#[ but any way-- /stop forgetting they don't know each other/. not beyond being familiar faces. ]

[iniziare]

/breathes calmly. Tifa—

#[ tifa lockhart. ] she had buried the twinges of guilt beneath the narcissism of self-sacrifice. beneath the belief of 'the greater good'. #[ one day i will go at that water tower scene one line at a time on here rather than in discord. ] #[ and i'll do so coherently and logically. ] #[ touching on the word choice of teenagers-- their physical reactions. these voice actors' performances of these lines. ] #[ gestures-- everything. there is so much here but it infuriates me because so much is overlooked. ] #[ and then i'm asked to look at an analysis and i truly feel like i'm told to walk through a dense set of woods with two lit matches. ] #[ or like twenty. ] #[ i've been listening to a tower; a promise for the last hour after having watched the scene for almost 2 hours on the 2nd monitor. ] #[ feral. /feral/ i am about this scene. square enix is nothing short of incredible at depicting human nature. ] #[ the spot where she chooses to sit; what not seeing his facial expressions is indicative of. ] #[ when we keep in mind that they haven't actually genuinely spoken before that moment-- ] #[ like remember-- nojima specified (i will find this back i swear) that cloud's recollection of even younger tifa... ] #[ going 'are you ignoring me?!' during that flashback? is not a genuine memory. it didn't happen that way. ] #[ can we stop forgetting that cloud is an /unreliable narrator/? ] #[ but any way-- /stop forgetting they don't know each other/. not beyond being familiar faces. ] #[ but even just in the moment. she can't see him and /he can't see her/. ] #[ can we talk about how... her 'sadness' initially isn't just aimed at cloud leaving? she specifically says 'all the guys are--'. ] #[ i can touch on every line but lemme focus on a few here-- cloud's little attempt at getting a reaction from her... ] #[ 'yeah. so i won't be back for a long time.' the cool guy. not only does it fail-- 'guess not'. immediate. no thought. no hesitation. ] #[ and then immediately goes to 'think you'll be in the papers?' ] #[ this is the first moment she smiles. you can see it amidst the blur but you can especially hear it in her voice. her tone brightens. ] #[ she looks up; wistful. and it's still there when the camera focuses on her and she mentions the wish. ] #[ and her phrasing is interesting-- 'and when you're a famous soldier'. that on its own can be seen as just phrasing but... ] #[ the inclusion of 'please? just once'. just once. it's not about cloud in specific. it's about being saved. ] #[ and ALSO; can we talk about how it isn't cloud who talks about SOLDIERs being heroes? ] #[ she talks about a 'hero'. not him. he doesn't mention heroes at all; can we talk about that for a second? ] #[ u g h. tag limit again-- i keep counting. don't mind me. i'm not saying tifa is 'selfish'. but i'm saying tifa is being selfish. ] #[ and that makes her an increeeeeedibly interesting character. but i need people to realize and talk about this? u g h. ] #[ also-- ALSO-- did this scene even happen this way? nOMURA AND NOJIMA?? ]

[enemyoflactose]

Euroshipping for @iamallyetnotatall . It's a little on the angsty side. I hope you still like it. I still need to come up with a title for this.

The sound of a keyboard being relentlessly typed at resonated throughout the massive office of the world famous, Seto Kaiba.

This wasn't at all unordinary. He was usually in his office working on coming up with either a new Duel Disk system, or coming up with a new tournament idea. Currently, it was the latter.

This wasn't a particularly important tournament. Well, not important for getting the King of Games title, or any title really. It was mostly a charity event in which the best duelists from around the world would duel not only each other, but whatever adoring fan they had.

Right now, it is just in the planning stage and it hasn't actually been announced yet. It still took priority over the new Duel Disk upgrade, he could work on that later.

“Hey! Seto!” The sharp yell of Mokuba rang through his ears.

“What is it Mokuba?” That’s weird, Mokuba usually doesn’t bother him while he’s working.

“It’s about time you answered, I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes,” he scolded, “Anyway, I was just coming in to ask if you got Ryou his gift yet, or y’know made any plans with him.”

Gift? Plans? Why would he need to do that? Was Ryou feeling down and he just hadn’t caught it yet? Or was there some sort of special occasion he’d forgotten about?

“Why would I need to do that? Did something happen?”

If looks could kill, Seto would've died the very moment he ended that first sentence.

“Are you kidding me Seto!?” He cried, “You Didn't Do Anything For Ryou For Valentine’s Day!?”

“Mokuba I have a job to worry about-”

“You also have a boyfriend to worry about!”

Seto didn't have a retort. He did have Ryou, and he was probably waiting for him to call for a surprise date.

The thought of him waiting for a call or for Seto to show up only for neither of those to happen, wasn't the most pleasant thing in the world.

“Mokuba, tell Isono to set up a date for me and Ryou. Preferably at our house.”

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+⁠*⁠.⁠✧⁠.⁠｡•⁠*⁠✧⁠*⁠。

“Thank you for staying late to help set up the new exhibit, Bakura-san,” Ishizu said, “this never would've been finished on time without you.”

“It's no problem, I'm always happy to help! And you know you can call me Ryou, right?”

Ishizu rubbed the back of her head and let out a breathy laugh, “Ah, I suppose I should now. I'm just so used to calling you by your surname.”

They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Ishizu spoke again, “By the way Ba-Ryou, do you have any plans with Kaiba-san this evening?”

This evening? Did Seto plan something and he forgot?

“Um, I'm not sure. I don't think so, why?”

“Oh,” she sounded surprised, “well I guess I should have expected that from you two. Valentine's Day isn't something either of you care for, is it?”

Valentine's Day? VALENTINE'S DAY?!

“I-i-I have to go. See you Monday Ishizu.” He stuttered and ran off.

*⁠.⁠✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡.•°✧⁠*⁠

Ryou ran down the streets of Domino. His feet hitting the pavement of the sidewalk in hard, fast steps.

‘Valentine’s day!’ he screamed at himself, ‘I can't believe I forgot!’

How he managed to forget the international holiday was beyond him. It was displayed everywhere, his friends were talking non stop about their plans, and Ryou had been given twice as many love letters and presents from unknown individuals. How did he manage to forget?

Coming to a sharp turn, Ryou slipped and fell face down on his chest.

‘First I forget about Valentine's Day, then I eat absolute shit. What a day…’

Crawling up from his fall and only wincing slightly, Ryou was suddenly lifted up and placed on his feet.

“Are you alright?” an all too familiar voice asked.

Ryou turned around and was greeted by the sight of the one person he really needed to avoid for at least an hour, “Seto..?”

“Hey, you're coming with me.”

Seto dragged him away from the corner and towards his car, tossing Ryou in the passenger side, and driving off once in his own seat.

Ryou fiddled with his coat’s collar, “so uhm, where are we going?”

“My place, I have something planned for you.”

Oh no… Seto had something for Ryou, but Ryou didn't have anything for Seto. He was the worst boyfriend ever. Tears were starting to prickle in his eyes. I can't believe this.

“Hey don't cry,” the soothing voice of Seto Kaiba demanded, “I know this seems like a last minute thing on my part, but that doesn't mean I don't care about you. I'm sorry I forgot.”

What? Seto hadn't remembered either? Well that made things less bad. Though he certainly had more of a reason to forget. Ryou didn't.

“I'm sorry, that's not why I'm upset,” his voice cracked slightly, “it's just that even though you forgot you still managed to do something for me, but I don't have anything to give you. Not even a card.” he was almost crying at this point.

Seto didn't respond. He only reached out a hand and ruffled Ryou's hair. This action soothed some of his nerves, but he was still upset.

“Don't worry about it. I don't care if you didn't get me anything, just that you owned up to it, and still want to be with me. We can still have a great Valentine's Day, but only if you stop crying and enjoy the evening with me.”

Ryou sniffled, and wiped the tears from his eyes. Seto was right… All that mattered was that they remembered now and still loved each other.

“You're right, I'm sorry.” he apologized.

Seto let out a sigh, and took his hand off Ryou's head to focus more on driving.

“Don't apologize for being stressed about this. Be glad we both forgot and not just one of us,” Seto snickered a bit, “that would have been worse.”

That little comment made all worries leave Ryou's mind, he smiled and let himself finally relax.

“Ok. Still love me?” He tried to cuddle up to Seto, but the seat belts made it difficult.

“Yeah. But only if you never bring this up again.”

Ryou giggled, and agreed. That was probably for the best. They could always have a better Valentine's Day next year.

#yugioh #ryou bakura #seto kaiba #euroshipping #the prompt was they both forgot Valentine's Day

[catsidhesilvie]

~Fleeting Moment~

Decided to do post-processing on this one bc I wanted to stomp her little heart into the dirt :)

Here's the closeup without the glow bc I spent too long reconstructing her eye bc of whatever tf it is that happens to face 4 miqo eyes when you look at them from any angle other than straight-on. Also had to fix clipping from her silly hat and his arm fabric:

Side note, I really need to look into how to make my screenshots higher quality. I need to play with my graphics settings but remember to lower them back down before raid ahaha.

I mayyyy go back in and actually paint over this for prettier lighting/details with a real tablet pen and not just my mouse ahaha. We'll see.

Lore/story stuff:

Wyra is demi/bi but never allows herself to get into a relationship (despite being an avid supporter of her friends pairing up/being a romance-reader in her own right) because she is too focused on being the WOL. She doesn't want to place a target on anyone's back. Luckily, she can get by with just a few crushes she has to stomp down since she is never attracted to anyone until they've been friends.

Wyra's Azem, Iris, was also ace, but was in an unspoken LDR/non-exclusive relationship with Themis. They were similar in age (Iris very slightly older), and both had been child prodigies with magic who grew in their roles on the Convocation. They had become friends before, when Iris was still Venat's protégé. When Iris was promoted to Azem, they were attached at the hip when duty allowed, and otherwise kept contact while Azem traveled or Elidibus was too busy with his own duties. The only reason they didn't make it official was because they were both too committed to their duties to commit to each other. Everyone else still viewed them as a couple.

Wyra is very similar to her Azem in personality, though she is more straightforward (Azem has the power of prophecy and tends to speak somewhat cryptically/be more erratic, generally), less confident, listens to others' opinions more before acting alone, and is a bit less stubborn; she does retain her predecessor's habit of leaping to self-sacrifice over the idea that anyone else dare risk themselves.

When Wyra goes back to Pandaemonium, she is slammed with the soul-baggage/vague memories/emotion of Azem, most of all when meeting Themis. She immensely struggles with this instant crush, as she had hated and pitied Elidibus in her own time... and love at first sight was very much beyond her usual experience.

As they continue the Pandaemonium story, Wyra admits that the Themis of Elpis is basically a different person from future Elidibus, in the same way or even a sadder way than Emet-Selch had been, since Themis had lost part of himself to Zodiark. After this admission, she stops resisting his friendship. Still, Wyra doesn't know what to do with her misplaced Azem feelings, and Themis's overt flirtation and flattery don't help it.

Add the mild inferiority complex Wyra has with her hopes to live up to Azem's legacy, and she spends a lot of time wondering if Themis treats her this way because he is conflating the two women, because he is a creep who likes to be overly friendly with familiars, because he is trying to manipulate her, or because he does truly see her as an individual and likes her for her. She also harbors guilt that only she had the knowledge that she would one day be the one to kill him, so she keeps some walls up partly out of what she deems respect for his Elpis-self.

Finally though, after defeating Athena in the Aetherial Sea of the present, Themis/Elidibus's memory form admits that he does care for HER. Not just as the inheritor of Azem's soul, now that he fully understood that, but as Wyra, and he points out that they are quite different despite their similarities. He expresses mild annoyance that he was fated to forget her until it was too late, though he knows that it all was worthwhile and he couldn't harbor regrets as long as it led to her saving the star. Then he gives her her first kiss before dissolving into aether :)

I think that the real past Themis's friendship and adventures with Wyra in Pandæmonium lead to him withdrawing a little from his relationship with Azem, which is ultimately broken when he becomes the heart of Zodiark despite Azem's insistence that they find another way. She is deeply offended by the idea of sacrificing so many -- especially him -- and is certain there is another option. Azem is off trying to save the world by herself when she dies in the first final days, and no one knows since she refuses to summon friends to a fight she views as unwinnable. That's why she doesn't respond later to invitations to summon Hydaelyn.

After the Pandaemonium story, Wyra is left in a bit of a funk because, while Themis's words helped her to move on a bit from her constant self-comparison to Azem, she obviously was left in an odd place of mourning yet another enemy-turned-friend -- but this time with tragic romance stirred in.

She does move on, though, and I think she may be more open to romance in the future since her soul has finally gained some closure.

#wyra lore #wyra #ffxiv #gpose #edited gpose #wolthemis #wolidibus #wolship #be cringe be free #finally give her a cannon wolship #then take it away 5 min later #muahaha #pandaemonium #pandaemonium spoilers #6.4 spoilers #accidentally ctrl+zed while typing this the first time after making a typo in the final line and it ALL got deleted omg I'm still so mad #demisexual #demisexuality #ace characters #character death #azem #iris

[all-about-seggs]

┗ Love- Lies- Bleeding

Pairing - Geto Suguru x Virgin!reader

Word count- 4.8 K

Warnings - Gaslighting, Corruption kink, snuff (not graphically depicted) and then reincarnation, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, adding blasphemy kink just to be safe.

A/n- Geto isn't a yandere here but it's Villan! Geto we're talking about so I think his actions are pretty in line with his current canon! Personality. Though a bit delusional. This is by FAR the longest thing I've ever written.

The gray cobblestones stretching across the shrine clicked against your thick wodden sandles, the quaintness of the place only making it seem unnaturally loud. It's was a regular autumn morning, which soon turned into noon as you felt the bright sun shining right on top of your head.

Having finished your morning tasks you were returning to the main shrine where the senior priestess would give you further things to do. Just the thought of more work non stop made you sigh at your monotonous shrine maiden lifestyle but as you lamented you heard footsteps behind you, the sound of which same as that of your own.

"Hey!.....", You turned around to see your little sister huffing as she catches up to you,

" y/n! He's here again!," The implications of her words made your face heat up, sure you were still a bit green and naive, but you made sure to discreet when it came to 'looking' at that one particular man that always seem to stand out among the hoards of faceless people you saw visiting the shrine everyday.

"How many times have I told you not to phrase it like that! You'll get me in trouble with the priestess!", Scrambling to get yourself together you retort sharply.

"Oh come on! Youre the one who used to stare at him from a distance like a lovesick teenager! Atleast now you're talking to him like a normal person", In terms of liveliness the sound of your back and forth was the only thing the place had.

"Watch it! If someone hears you we'll both get scolded", gently warning her again you find yourself turning back to where she came from. The other part of the premises where the peculiar man would be standing, as usual, in all his serene beauty, on the brigde overlooking the small lake.

A man in traditional Japanese cloths that you rarely see anyone wearing these days came to your shrine everyday, without fail for the past month. Everything from his attire to his elegant long hair left you in a trance and your eyes would naturally follow him.

Something about the fact how he'd always come here but never to pray or wish striked you as odd so at first you just observed and even before completely wrapping the situation around your head you two started sharing numerous conversations of the huge world that was right outside but so far away from your reach, his words fuelled the budding curiosity in your heart, the vastness of which made your trips to the lake, the most refreshing part of your otherwise monotonous daily routine.

Even if all you did was talk, a 'supposidly' demure maiden working in a shrine, skipping on her duties and rushing to the other side of the ginormous area to see a man felt almost elicit, scary even when you consider the consequences that would come if you were to get found out. The charisma his every action held was beyond resistance and you soon found yourself enraptured by the male despite everything.

"This is so pointless" you huffed, smiling out of self pity to hide the more frustrating emotions twirling within you.

"Yet you do it everyday", with a small nudge from her elbow you made your way straight to the lake, forgetting about your obligations as a shrine maiden, the responsibilities, the restrictions and all inhibitions put upon you in the name of god.

With quick steps you soon found yourself at the base of the curved brigde,

"Good afternoon Mr. Geto", your greeting came out in a rush, trying to ignore the warmth of your face, but your attempts at hiding your flustered state didn't go unnoticed by the man in front of you.

" Seems like you've been having quite a hectic day", smiling in his usual serene way Geto gracefully turns his head in your direction.

" Not any more than usual", calming your erratic heartbeat you slowly close the distance between the two of you and stand beside him on the arch of the bridge.

" It's really nice here", He remarked, his eyes sweeping across the tiny fishes swimming near the surface of the lake. You stared at him for a little while before finally asking the one thing that drew you to him the most.

" I always wondered, why do you come here everyday if you don't even want to go to the main shrine to pray?. Surely it's not just for this scenery."

" Hmmm? Pray for what?", Not particularly moved by your question he quizzically tilt his head.

"Well.....you know, the usual, success in job, finding a significant other or maybe even something materialistic? Although I doubt you're interested in the last one", you laugh a little to take the edge off your slightly personal question.

"Dreams come true through steadily applied efforts not praying", with his sage like appearance, his words didn't came off as a shock.

"Not the best thing to say to a shrine maiden but I guess it's somewhat true", Quipping back you just looked at him with a smile, silently revelling on your familiarity with each other.

"What about you? You never look like you're having fun while working here.... As if you're the one who's not satisfied with you're job" His voice took a more serious note and asked the question you always tried to push away but for the first time, you felt safe. Safe in talking about things what most people around you would call blasphemy.

"Yeah well, I wouldn't say it's my life's calling. It's basically following the ideals that has been written by others and just blindly following them day in and day out", just as you finished your sentence you realised how shallow and sad you just sounded but the slightly widened eyes of Geto was what made you mentally kick yourself before you hastily try to smooth things over.

" But! It's not that bad! Once you get used to-", after a few lighthearted words to clear the heavy atmosphere that was building up you were cut off with one long finger hovering just above your lips.

" It's okay, you don't have to worry about being judged with me", not touching your lips he quickly retreats his hand back,

"It's only natural to question your ideals and beliefs when you actually start thinking about them, it's a proof of growing up. I can say it was the same for me as well, I had thought I'd spend my whole life sequestered in 'that' place but...." His gaze takes on a far off quality as his words fade.

"What changed then?", Without even knowing why, you urged him to continue.

"Well, I grew up and realised mine were just idealistic views, far from practical."

"Wait! How old are you now?!", Unable to ignore your budding curiosity you went on,

With a soft flick to your cheek he snorted in amusement, his low baritone made you recognise your own rudeness as you rub the non existent pain off of your face.

"It's not polite to ask strangers their age, regardless of their gender, young lady".

"I'm sorry! It's just, your answer...... Was kinda vague so...." Trailing off, the fact that he didn't owed you any explanations dawned on you making you stop. But the sudden halt in your unabashed questioning didn't go unnoticed by the long haired man so he continued, as if reading your thoughts.

"Everyone's entitled to act idiotically every once in a while but you sure are abusing your privilege", he went on, after a few words of sass.

" It took a while but, I soon discovered my true feelings about the world I lived in and how I wanted to change it", The unshakeable conviction of his voice reverberated through your ears and there seemd to be more to the hint of darkness in his downcast eyes, but further questions left your brain as you felt genuine resolve through his words.

Before you could process what's happening, Geto pulled you in close, resting his hands on either side of the brigde railings, caging you inbetween the low wall and his body.

"How about we run away to a better world together?", not waiting for you to protest he spoke. The words falling from his lips were casual enough to make you overlook the outrageousness of their meaning and your oddly intimate position did nothing to stop your brain from short circuiting.

"The decision is yours y/n but I'll be waiting anyway," his voice seems to trail a little before he bends down, his thin lips ghosting over your right ear, " you see, I hate it when even the good gets destroyed along with the bad", with that he quickly pulles his body back, letting you have your personal space again.

"I'll come back here at 8 'o' clock tonight",

After announcing that smoothly, he turns his back away and walks off to the exit, leaving you gob smacked at his confusing words.You watch him saunter off, still to awestruck to move when you finally take a note of your own unsteady breaths and face that radiated heat rivaling the sun atop.

" Who would- even go along with that crazy idea", your meek words get lost in the now empty place but the longing in your eyes to see what lied beyond your conservative lifestyle was as clear as the autumn sky hanging above.

You turn your back on the place and jog off in an effort to escape your own complicated feelings on the matter. His casually spoken words clawed at your heart, an entire different life was just one step away and it was shocking to even you how much trust you were subconsciously putting in every single word he says.

The conflicting thoughts in your head kept you busy the entire walk from the bridge to at the door of the only home you had known for so many years and never once your feet held such hesitation as you entered the building to continue the tasks you had left behind for the momentary change you craved so much.

The evening passed by in a flash, the thumping of your heart only getting louder with each passing hour. You just got out of your bath and were getting ready to help with dinner when you heard two voices coming form one of the senior priestess's room

"I saw her talking to a man, he didn't looked like a -", their words weren't clear but one thing was. Their topic of discussion was you.

"No he was wearing a hakama", it was getting harder and harder to breath with every second. If they were to tell that to your other supervisors then it would become very difficult for you to live here.

"So he could be from a neighbouring temple, maybe just asking about something general?"

"But weren't they standing too close?"

Listening in from behind the door all you could make out was that they clearly saw you and Geto, but one thing was certain. You were about to be very strictly reprimanded for just having curiosity.

Before you could even think up of some excuses to get yourself out of this mess the previous offer of his night time rendezvous flashed in your mind. It got you thinking, if you were going to be made to stay under supervision for a while anyway then the least you could do was to meet Geto one more time so as to let him know that his idea was indeed crazy and that life wasn't that easy for you to give up on everything you've done until now just on a whim.

You couldn't exactly get to a proper conclusion, sure leaving seemed like the better option but the fact that you'll be heavily dependent on Geto for everything didn't sit will with you either. It's not like you had any other skills or connections and even if he said he'd take you with him, you weren't fully ready to trust him on that. Why would you? It's not like you two were connected or related in any way.

The meeting time was approaching fast and since it's dinner time soon most of the girls would be around the dining area to help. It was the perfect opportunity to slip out unnoticed and come back after explaining things to the kind person who brought a few extra colors in your dull life.

Shakily you made you way to the back door, knowing full well you're about to commit another offense.

In a few minutes you reached the bridge, it was empty right now, indicated that your are ether early or that maybe Geto was actually just messing with you and oddly enough you felt your stomach drop at the thought of the second option.

But before you could overthink out the negative options you sense eyes on your back and whirl around to see a happy looking Geto strutting towards you.

" I take it you have decided to entrust yourself to me?", Greeting you with his self assured words he smiles amicably at you.

" Actually- I've decided to not leave", you say, with both sadness and regret in your voice.

He listenes to you in silence, his face doesn't look convinced no matter how much you explain but he never interrupts you until you're finished.

" So, Is that what you really want? To rot in a place which binds you to unnecessary obligations?", He blankly says, after you're done.

"It's only natural to lose something in order to attain greater things y/n", steping in your personal space again he peers at you face, his eyes were slited enough to hide their true intentions yet leaving just enough space for the moonlight to give them an otherworldly glow.

His beautiful face just centimetres away from yours and before you can finish he grabs you by the chin and delivers a mind blowing kiss.

This wasn't good for your heart. Your previous resolve was melting, just like the rest of you. Geto quickly slipped his hot tongue inside your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny of it.

"Why are you going so far?", You ask, still not entirely convinced.

" Because we are the same, that's why I know what you want and I can give that to you. So trust me okay?", A few seconds pass as you both stare into each other, when you finally heave a sigh of defeat.

" I do want more than just a life of modesty,", having changed you decision yet again you look up at the man in a renewed resolve.

"That's my girl!", Almost excitedly he envelopes you in a warm hug,

"Well y/n? How exactly do you want to celebrate your new found freedom? ", giving his words a suggestive tone he leaned forward to press his lips against your ear, placing light kisses up and down its lobe.

A surge of heat runs through your confounded heart, voice raspy as you reply " Ofcourse I want to do it with you", the snickering above you made you realise the innuendo your words held,

" I meant the celebration! It as in the CELEBRATION OKAY?!", Frantically, you push against his chest to break your embrace, trying to explain the simple meaning behind your previous words but even so, you'd be lying to yourself if you said that the thought of sleeping with him never crossed your mind.

The unmarried virgin criteria you had to fulfill in order to be a shrine maiden was in the past now. So you couldn't find any reason to hold back now.

" I'd be an honor," Geto's melodious voice reverberated through the entire room and you whip your head upwards to look for the confirmation you needed.

With minimal amount of words Geto took you to a near by cottage, saying he atleast wanted your first time to be in a proper place. You thought he was staying at just a room in that cottage but it turned out he had rented the entire place.

For you, it was quite a luxurious thing, while it was something you'd love to revel in, you had other, more important matters to give your attention too.

With a soft click, Geto opens the bedroom door and ushers you in, you breathing coming out irregular, and you were almost shaking in both excitement and nervousness.

What if he doesn't like how I look like naked? Would he like it better if I had shaved? Wait- I hope I'm not wearing my ugly panties today!. While you were freting the small details, the long haired man quietly made his way towards the bed, where you sat, buring his face at the crook of your neck as his arms wrap themselves around you.

"White suites you",His voice rumbled in your ears, his tone as smooth and sweet as honey when he slipped his hand inside the collar of your top, parting the neatly tucked fabric until your chest was exposed. The sudden contact with the air and his hands made your nipples perk up. He fondles them a little while kissing up your neck and shoulders.

Slowly he undos the cloth belts that tied your red hakama to place and eventually you feel them loosen up and then down to the ground, leaving you in just your open white kosode.

Being so exposed in front of a man and that too for the first time made you instinctively cover your chest and crotch, but it was pointless really, because even your hands couldn't hide the dampness of your panties from the sharp eyes that seems to look straight through your meek attempt at modesty.

"Come on, show me everything", his eyes met yours, all attention on you and it was almost disconcerting how vulnerable his eyes made you feel.

Felling a warm rush of blood to your face, you slowly loosen the grip of your hands around your body, letting Suguru pry them off until they rested limply on your sides. Slowly you lie down flat on your back, shyly looking away.

"Getting embarrassed is fine, but there's no need to hid yourself, It's only natural to want to look at your lover's body",He says it with such low, sweet, seduction that your toes curl in response, the word 'lover' ringing in your ears sent your heart in a frenzy.

Slipping the rest of your garments off of your shoulders he gently kisses your ear, licking the contours of your jaw and all the way to the hollow of your throat. His mouth nibbed at the skin beneath as his smooth tongue caressed the marks it left behind.

Soon he latched his lips onto on of your nipples, his teeth grazing the hardened tips pulled a few moans out of you, his long hair tickled your skin wherever they fell and it took everything in you to stop yourself from grabbing onto them.

Moving lower, he soon reached your pussy, already dripping with arousal. You felt his breath on your folds as spreaded them with one of his hand and gave the smooth space inbetween a long lick.

Sucking on your clit with fervor, his arms around your hips traced it's dips and curves as he delves deeper into your moistened sex. Your moans were inevitable at this point, the feeling his mouth in the most intimate part of your body was making you shiver in ecstasy but as soon as he brought his hand near your hole you felt your thighs clench.

"Don't worry I'll only use one finger at a time to get you all nice and ready for later" Gentle reassurances flowed naturally out of his mouth as he covers his fingers in your slick before spreading your pussy more.

His digits push past your folds and buries themselves deep into your throbbing pussy, the sensation of being penetrated both new and arousing. Geto slowing moves his finger in and out as his tongue latches on to your clit again.

The sensations of being licked and fingered together intermingled in your body, bringing you closer to your release in no time. Although it was a good thing you didn't wanted to end it so quickly. He was undeniably good with his hands, knowing when exactly to add another finger or when to curl or rub them inside.

Maybe it's because it was your first time but the onslaught of your orgasm leaves you shaking and moaning wildly in the most unladylike ways you have ever acted. It was embarrassing how much you ended up enjoying while Geto did all the work.

Though he pushes you to your limit you can't help but want to watch his every movement, anticipation building inside you when he raises his head and props himself on his knees to get a better look at your blissed out face. You let out a sigh of longing as he bought his glistening digits to near your face as a proof of you how good he made you feel.

" I'm glad you like it honey", his voice dangerously seductive, he licks his fingers just as erotically, making you embarrassed.

" Let's move onto the part where you cum on my cock now shall we?", His crudeness may have been shocking but right now all you cared about was the cumming part so you let him manhandle your throbbing form until he properly lines himself up against your hole.

Suguru didn't removed his cloths fully, just loosened his hakama just enough to whip his member out.

" Deep breaths now y/n", his gentle guiding eased your mind, and so you relax your body to take him in because even if it's your first time, you were pretty sure he was big enough to make anyone ache.

A warm tingling pain tears through your core which soon mealted into something more euphoric, unbearably good even, making you cry out in ecstasy. He filled you up to the brim and you wondered how bad it will ache tomorrow. As soon as he bottomed out in you, the entire aura of the person about you changed and the room felt like it dropped a few degrees in temperature.

It was not what you'd expected as your first time. Not the painfully rough speed he started with. Not the large hand around your neck that threatened to cut off your air supply. And certainly not the cold, detached look in his face.

Even when your breathing was getting shallower by the second you still writhed in pleasure. It was alarming as to how much you were willing to entrust your entire self to Suguru who was nothing if not composed, keeping his hand firmly around your neck while thrusting his member in and out of your pussy, fucking you like some sort of rag doll.

Long gone was the mild mannered person you looked up at with heart eyes, maybe he was just different in bed, that's what you wanted to tell yourself but the lack of consent and the level of his roughness kept you from doing so.

He eventually let go of your neck, only to flip you on your stomach and shoved his cock inside from an even deeper angle. He didn't let you tap out until you came twice, with your third orgasm approaching just as fast.

The sumptuous heat from his body lingers on yours for sometime even after he pulls himself out

And you felt that the longer you stayed in his embrace, the more darkness seeped into you which would surely make you go numb eventually

You wanted to ask Geto what was happening but a few broken screams were the only thing you could make out, everything was sudden, how the pain made your vision go white to then pitch black and as your consciousness left your body all you could hear was Geto's calm voice.

" Next time you wake up, well be in a better world"

The few rustling sounds of fabric brought you back to the waking world, the dark blue skies outside with flashes of gold inbetween told you it was just the crack of dawn.

You slowly prop yourself up in a sitting position to look around the unfamiliar room.

You catch your reflection in the nearby window next to your bed, you looked the same save for the few indecipherable marks here and there.

" Good morning y/n", Quickly looking at your right, you see Geto just walking out of the bath, his mascular form only covered by a thin cottan kimono.

He was behaving normally, as if the events of last night didn't happen. So normally that you were starting to think you may have hallucinated the whole thing.

Walking towards your sitting form, Geto bends down to cup your jaw and layers his mouth on yours, the scent of his shampoo tingling your senses almost made you forget about everything else.

He breaks the kiss, gazing at your downcasted eyes, the heat from your face made him chuckle.

"Quite an innocent reaction considering all the things we've done", he smirks triumphantly at you, his eyes a mix of dark but intense passion. All the things huh. You thought. Your mind was still in a haze and it was talking longer to process your words and thoughts.

"What happened last night?, I can't remember everything properly", you were expecting straight answers, that how did you passed out or where you exactly were right now but Geto seemed to go off on his own tangent.

You were just like my past self,", were, he said. As if you're something else now. The man in front of you was changing his colors faster than you could comprehend his words and it was terrifying you.

"That's why it's my duty to show you everything that life has to offer, the entire extent of it. As long as you stay by my side.", Not paying an ounce of attention to your shocked state he want on,

" The people you were staying with before were only going to confuse you further, that's why I had to take you away".

"You are the most free and safest at my side, darling. But if you still want your preistess life back then, I'll be your god and you can spend the rest of your life worshipping me instead"

Of course, he didn't saw you as an equal who could stand beside him, you weren't even his lover, just someone below him who he needed to worship the ground he walked upon in. But even so, the fear you experienced just a few minutes ago dissipated, bringing back the curiosity that was at its height whenever he was around.

"Were you lonely?",Geto's eyes trailed up and down your face which halted in their track after hearing your words which oddly resembled pity.

" What-", the previously composed and slitted eyes expanded a little before his expression abruptly shifts, turning serious, making you flinch under its sharp gaze, the animosity that surrounded him contrasted with the previous tender kisses and touch.

With his one large hand he grabbed your face from the base of your jaw, painfully lifting it up until your entire body was a few centimetres above the surface of the bed.

" Listen up y/n, I didn't brought you here to dote on you and the only reason I wiped out your silly little shrine because I can't stand hypocrites who spread false teachings written by equally hypocritical people. It was your job to worship things you couldn't see before and now you have to do the same job for someone you can see. That's. All."

"Ofcourse, leaving isn't an option.I've turned your body into a reincarnated curse. If any of the Jujutsu tech people caught you roaming around, it'll be instant exorcism for you." He lets go of your face and sits next to your form, Geto was quite for a while, giving you time to sort out your own feelings on the matter.

You knew what was happening now. Inbetween those conceited words flashes of the warm blooded man behind the god slipped out and you had to resist the overwhelming urge to comfort the person who just confessed to have burnt down the shire you were living in just until a few days ago. Maybe your thought process was altered just like the rest of you body, or maybe you were always this crazy too.

The source of your sympathy was unknown but the twisted obsession of his was provided you with more solid answers.

Your meeting, the conversations, how you eloped together. All of it made sense now. He wanted to save you from the oppressive state of the place you had spend most of your life in, ofcourse he would. He was thinking of you in ways no one ever had. He loved you in ways no one ever will, or could for that matter.

And you,

You loved him too. You had to.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #smut #Jujutsu kaisen geto Suguru #suguru geto #geto suguru x reader #geto #jjk geto suguru #geto Suguru #Jujutsu kaisen x reader #Jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #geto Suguru smut #my writing #tw: Gaslighting #jujutsu kaisen scenario #jujutsu kaisen scenarios

[writer-ish]

φόβος, or the persistence of fear

prompt: to shower with my muse / for sex on a table/counter/desk / for our muses to try a new position + words: “make me” pairing: mason x detective (grace bennett) word count: 5.3k words | rating: super E!!! (minors dni) summary: φόβος (FO-vos) Greek. “fear”. Post-Book 3 Final Demo, Mason and Grace have some trouble overcoming their individual fears.

author note: i know you said “or”, lovely @detective-sweetheart , but to my eyes you were issuing a challenge as to whether or not i could do them ALL. i didn’t quite succeed, but hopefully it doesn’t disappoint. 😘 and, uh… *side-eyes the word count* ...yeah. really should get that ao3 account up and running huh?

warning: this smutty lil fic immediately follows the end of the final demo for book 3 (bobby route) so if you don't want any inkling of what that's all about, stay away.

XX nsfw prompts

X X X X

Saying that it had been “one of those days” would not only be an insult to days but to the concept of singularity itself.

By the time they roll into the warehouse, it's just after nine-thirty in the evening. The sun has already dipped beyond the horizon almost entirely, but there remains an eerie summer glow of light that seems to permeate the atmosphere. Not quite day, not quite night, but instead some liminal moment that feels almost otherworldly. Familiar, yet not.

Grace shivers.

Mason, sitting beside her in the roomy black SUV, turns towards her as the almost-imperceptible tremor runs through her body.

She meets his gaze, taking in his expression – tight and concerned, the grey of his irises stormy and conflicted – before she feels his hand reach across her lap and cup her outer thigh, tugging her closer to him.

They wait in silence as Adam parks and the rest of Unit Bravo gets out, Felix patting her leg reassuringly from beside her before exiting on his side. Mason gets out as well and turns to her, hands now shoved deep in the pockets of his leather jacket.

It's Grace's turn, so she gingerly exits, the weight of the day finally revealing the toll it's taken on her body. The fifteen minutes of inactivity in the car were, apparently, all it had needed as a reminder of what she'd endured in the last sixteen hours or so. All of a sudden she feels exhausted, weighted down, frustrated, and in desperate need of a shower.

"You good?" Mason asks as they walk together towards the entrance of the warehouse, shoulders brushing, a bit behind the others.

"Just tired," she responds, rubbing her eyes wearily. "Can't wait to shower and just lie down."

"Need any help with that?" The drawled reply is rife with a familiar irreverence, but there is something heavier in his tone that makes Grace glance up.

He's looking down at her, telltale smirk on his lips. But his grey eyes are dim and there's a furrow between his brows that isn't normally there.

"Yes."

Her quick response seems to surprise him; he stops walking and turns to look at her with an inscrutable expression. She can understand why—she isn't normally so brazen when it comes to his advances and she knows he revels in her shyness sometimes. Mastering the art of getting a rise out of her, making her flustered, teasing her and watching her blush.

But this time she doesn't care if her response feels bold or unlike her. Since dawn that morning, the litany of things she'd experienced were enough emotional and physical turmoil to last a person a lifetime, never mind a period that's comprised of less than twenty-four hours.

And now she wants Mason and she wants a shower and she wants to sleep. In whatever order she can have them.

Instead of saying anything flirtatious or sarcastic, he lets his eyes roam over her face for a moment and then he just nods and drapes an arm over her shoulders, leading her inside.

Upon entering the Warehouse, they’re greeted by Adam, Nate, and Felix, who appear to have been waiting for them. All three agents turn when they see Mason and Grace walking in, and Grace feels a pang of guilt, knowing that Adam will probably want to coordinate a meeting of some sort to go over the events of the day as well as next steps.

Sure enough, he intercepts them as they attempt to walk by.

“We should be debriefing on everything that just occurred." Adam crosses his arms and peers down at Grace. "And Detective, have you gotten a hold of Agent Bennett? I can’t seem to—“

Grace opens her mouth to reply, and perhaps Mason can feel the way her body leans away from him, already attempting to gear herself up for the meeting Adam has planned for them all, because he tugs her closer and begins dragging her away, speaking over her before she has a chance to respond.

“The Detective,” he announces, forcing her to keep pace with him, “is currently unavailable."

She can feel Adam's disapproval radiating at her back and she looks up at Mason helplessly.

"Stop," he commands her, then says over his shoulder: "She's had a rough day, okay? We'll meet in the morning."

Adam grumbles his reluctant acquiescence and Felix shouts after them: "Don't forget how thin the walls are!"

Nate splutters, as Mason throws back: "They're concrete!"

Nate’s splutters turn into a groan as Felix responds: "With you two it doesn't seem to make a difference."

Grace groans as well, feeling the heat surge up into her cheeks as she buries her face in her hands. Mason just laughs and continues to drag her along.

As soon as she gets to her room, she lets him in and then closes the door firmly behind them, leaning on it heavily with a deep sigh.

Mason is already walking around the small room, inspecting the current aesthetic. When the room had been set up for her, cues had apparently been taken from her own apartment. So there’s a vibe that can definitely be considered “cozy”, like her style – long white curtains, a plethora of pillows, a down comforter – while also being weirdly unfamiliar. It’s like a Sims version of her own place in some Bizarro universe. She isn’t sure if it makes her feel more at home—or less.

“What did you bring from your place?” His voice breaks her out of her reverie and she looks at him in surprise.

“Oh, uh—” Taking a look around, her brow furrows. “Honestly, not much. After what happened this morning, I didn’t have the wherewithal to grab anything that I really needed. Thank god there’s some stuff here. But I’m going to have to go back tomorrow and sift through the damage. See what can be salvaged.” She shrugs, then to her horror, she can feel her eyes inadvertently well with tears.

“Hey, hey—” Mason is in front of her before she can blink, tilting her chin up. “What’s that for?”

“Ugh, just—” She rubs her eyes frustratedly. “What a fucking day.”

“Yeah, you’ve been through it,” he agrees, before roughly pulling her into his arms. “One for the record books.”

His arms around her provide more comfort than he could probably ever understand and she feels her whole body wilt into his strength and his heat and his scent.

“I’m so sick of days ‘for the record books’,” she mumbles into his chest and she can feel his chuckle more than she hears it.

“Why don’t we see if we can make this one a bit better, hmm?” She looks up just in time for him to capture her lips with his.

Letting out a little sigh, she twines her arms around his neck and allows him to kiss her slowly, leisurely, taking little sips from her mouth, stroking her tongue with his own, stoking a slow fire that always seems to be maintaining a low burn in his presence. She presses her body closer, enjoying the feel of her breasts against his torso, his growing hardness pressing into her stomach.

He glides his hands down her back and cups her bottom, squeezing it appreciatively, before pulling her even closer still.

Moving his mouth to her neck, his teeth glide against her pulse point, and her heart skips a little beat when she feels the sharpness of his canines against her sensitive skin.

“Relax,” he whispers, kissing her softly right in the place where his teeth had just scraped. “This isn’t where I want to taste you.”

She lets out a little whimper and brings his mouth back to hers, kissing him fiercely, feeling the points and ridges of his teeth with her tongue crowding his mouth. He pulls her tightly to him, dragging her body up so her feet leave the ground, and then he drops her backwards on the bed, his knee already down on the mattress with her, poised to pounce.

“No—” she protests and before she can blink he’s off of her and standing at the edge of the bed.

“What is it?” His voice is calm, with none of the frustration she would assume he’d be feeling in that moment.

“No, it’s just—” She pauses and glances at the door to the ensuite bathroom, teeth digging into her bottom lip. “I really need a shower, before any… tasting happens.”

He blinks and then in a flash he’s on her again, his body pressing her deep into the soft mattress.

“For what it’s worth, sweetheart,” he says, nipping at her lips, “I’ll taste you whenever, however.”

“Reassuring,” she laughs, “but trust me when I say a shower is needed.”

“Then let’s get you wet.” She laughs again with a groan, allowing him to hoist her up.

He tugs at her shirt and she raises her arms accommodatingly, allowing him to lift it up and over her head. Piece by piece, he undresses her, hands grazing her skin with each article he removes, discarding the item as quickly as it comes off her body, until she stands in front of him fully nude.

Self-consciousness at her nudity is a forgotten pastime now that she’s with Mason. It’s something about the way he looks at her —he’s always just so pleased. With her or with himself she can’t tell, but either way it does wonders for one’s self esteem.

Even now, she can almost feel the heat emanating off of him, a hungry smoulder of pure energy as his eyes roam up and down her body.

“Shower,” she squeaks, not sure who needs the reminder more.

Instead of answering, he lifts her up effortlessly, dragging her thighs around him until she can cross her ankles behind his back. She feels the fabric of his clothing rubbing every inch of bare skin it encounters – the leather of his jacket against her nipples, his jeans between her legs – and he settles her onto a dresser that she literally hadn’t even noticed before that moment.

Her breathing escalates in anticipation and yearning, waiting for wherever his mouth or his tongue or his teeth go next, but instead he remains quiet and still, before leaning forward and resting his forehead on her shoulder.

She freezes, unsure what he wants or even what she should do. And then she feels it.

A light tremor, scarcely noticeable, running through his body.

Before she can react, his arms tighten around her in a crushing hug and she instinctively hugs him back fiercely, running her hands up and down his back, pulling him closer with her legs.

“Mason,” she whispers. “What—?”

With a growl, he lifts his head and captures her mouth with his own, teeth and tongues clashing in a hungry, desperate kiss. His fingers tangle in her hair as his thumbs caress her cheekbones in a juxtaposition of rough and gentle.

She kisses him back, trying to keep up with the shift in his mood. Pulling away with a gasp, she attempts to catch his eye.

“Are you—?”

Groaning, he leans in and kisses her again, hands running over her body in frantic strokes, as though memorizing the shape of her with his palms.

When he lifts his head again, she sees the conflict in his narrowed gaze, the grey irises stormy with anger and desire and another, less discernible emotion that causes gooseflesh to rise on her bare skin.

“Just look at you.” His voice is harsh, almost angry, and her jaw slackens in surprise at his tone. He tilts away from her as he speaks and she registers the absence acutely as cool air hits bare skin that now feels on display, her legs still spread open around him.

Shyness overcomes her as she becomes truly conscious of her nudity for the first time. She makes to close her legs and he grips them tighter around his hips so she can’t move them, his eyes flicking between hers, seeking answers and absolution.

“You’re so soft, so small,” he continues, his voice still rough with shades of anger, even as his words feel hollow and almost somehow reminiscent of—grief? “This skin, this body you’re in—it’s so weak.”

“Mason!” She finds her voice finally, confusion and indignation at war with one another in her mind as she tries to coincide his expression – which can only be described as tortured – with the hurtful things he’s saying.

“How can we let you go back out there?” His voice is raw now, the anger appearing to slowly fade away, leaving him worn-out and desperate in its wake. “Unprotected? Out in the open for any fucker to grab, to take. To hurt?” He gives her a little shake and she gasps. “Huh? How?”

Understanding dawns. Yes, it had been a rough day for her. One of the worst.

But it looks as though, maybe, it had been a rough day for him, too.

Immediately, her hands begin to move of their own volition, running up his chest and over his shoulders. His whole body seems to sag, the fight draining out of him completely, and he closes his eyes, turning his head away from her.

“I have the Agency,” she murmurs as she tries to soothe him with her touch, her tone, her words. She tucks her hands under his jacket and pushes it off until it drops on the floor. Smoothing her hands back up his arms, she doesn’t stop until they cup his face. “I have them to protect me.”

She turns his head and waits until he opens his eyes, his gaze still narrowed, but with a telltale furrow in his brow.

“And I have you,” she adds, softly. “To protect me.” She pauses, watching the creases in his forehead smooth even as his eyes drift away from hers once more. “I’ll be okay.”

He reminds her now of a beast being soothed; a wolf, perhaps—hackles still up, but with the understanding that the threat has passed, for the time being, at least.

She knows not to look too much into it; loyalty is intrinsic to Mason’s being. His defence of her would be his defence of any of them.

But she kisses his brow anyway, just in case. His cheek, too, even as he stiffens in her arms.

“I’ll be okay,” she repeats, “unless I don’t get a shower in the next thirty seconds.”

His expression shifts back to a familiar one: arched brow, lips curled up on one side, white teeth showing one sharp canine. He seems almost relieved, though at what she’s not sure – the reprieve? Her unspoken forgiveness? Her assurance?

Regardless, she knows she won’t get the answers she seeks and, sure enough, he says nothing, only lifts her back into his arms and carts her off to the bathroom.

She can’t help but laugh against his neck, although her heart still thumps an erratic beat at the odd moment they’d just had.

Depositing her by the sink, he peels off his shirt, dropping it unceremoniously onto the floor as he reaches inside the shower to turn on the water. He then strips out of his pants and underwear just as quickly, appearing more comfortable in his nudity than he is clothed—a fact that she’s come to realize is true.

She can’t help but take him in, flawless and muscular, a constellation of freckles across his upper body and arms. Unruly onyx waves tumble towards his shoulders and her fingers itch to run through them. His chest is covered in short, curling hairs that stretch across his pectorals and down, over his defined stomach and even further still. His prominent erection is unselfconsciously on display, flushed and waiting, apparently, for her.

Feeling the colour rise in her cheeks as she stares, she hazards a glance back up to his face.

He’s regarding her quietly, a growing smile on his lips, his gaze half-lidded and pleased.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?”

“Always,” she responds before she can lose her nerve, her face heating even more.

He chuckles softly, taking a step towards her, stroking his knuckles down her cheek. “The feeling is mutual.” He nods towards the running water. “Feel that and tell me if it’s okay.”

Hopping off the counter, she reaches her hand in. The water is scalding and she hisses out a breath, before adjusting it slightly cooler. She waits a beat until it runs at a suitable temperature on her palm and wrist. “That’s good for me. You?”

She finds herself craning her neck to look up at him. He’s standing tall in front of her, looking down without really tilting his chin. He has a half smile on his face as he watches her and she feels herself redden again under his gaze.

“I’ll be fine,” he says eventually, before crowding her until she has no choice but to take a step in.

Entering the shower fully, she allows the water to run down her back, tilting her head to wet her hair. He follows her in and runs his fingers softly down her chest, snagging on her nipples, already distended and aching.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, tracing over her lightly with his fingertips, playing and stroking. One finger circling a nipple before going down further until it grazes between her legs.

She bites back a moan as her eyes shut briefly, her palms pressing back against the cool tile of the shower for some sort of purchase.

He loops an arm around her waist and brings her to him, kissing her wetly, open-mouthed and demanding, their bare skin slipping against one another.

Swiftly, he turns her, pressing himself into the cleft of her ass. She can feel his hardness wedged deeply between her; a new sensation, but not entirely unpleasant, either. She wriggles experimentally and gasps at the titillating pressure.

“One day,” he murmurs in her ear, reading her mind, and she knows from the way he chuckles that her cheeks have gone truly red this time.

He strokes down her forearms, linking his fingers overtop hers before pressing them onto the tile so that her body is forced to tilt forward slightly. Then, he adjusts the spray of the water so it’s not hitting them directly.

“Open.” His voice is a gruff command and she can’t help but obey, her feet slipping slightly in her haste to spread her legs.

She feels his hand course over her wet skin, erection still pressed against her bottom, as his fingers move across her, teasing and playing, until they settle into the warm, liquid centre of her.

She lets out a protracted moan, her legs shaking, the relief of finally having him touch her right where she needs him to almost more than she can bear.

He strokes her masterfully, a finger delving into the wetness her body is producing just for him, for his touch, and then circling at the apex of her thighs. Her clit throbs with his attention and she can’t help but cry out as he applies steady continuous pressure. The shaking in her legs increases and his body presses against her even tighter, his other hand coming up to cup her breast, thumb strumming her nipple at the same pace as his other finger works her clit.

“I want you to come,” his voice grinds out next to her ear. “I want you to come all over my hand. I can already feel you dripping all over me, all over yourself. Let go, sweetheart.” He bites her neck lightly and she feels the sharp prick of his fangs on her sensitive flesh. “Let go.”

The pain and pleasure intertwine into a blinding flash of white light, her body convulsing as she cries out, her shout echoing throughout the small room. Her legs give way and he holds her steady against him, his arm the only barrier between her and the tiles.

She comes down slowly from her climax, her shaky breath echoing around them, trembling fingers still scrabbling for purchase on the wet tiled walls of the shower.

Before she can fully catch her breath, he turns her around wordlessly and crushes his mouth to hers again. She matches his fervour, opening her mouth and allowing him to consume her. Their kisses feel hungry, desperate, and she whimpers against his lips. Tightening his hold, he lifts her up into his arms, pressing her against the cool tiles. She can feel his hands splayed across her back, cushioning the impact, and she tightens her legs to draw him closer.

His erection is notched between her legs, stroking hotly up and down the teeming wetness there, both from the shower streaming between them and also, she knows, from her own body’s response to him, his nearness, and the promise of what’s to come.

She reaches between them and grips him, running her hand up and down his length as he tilts his head back and groans.

“Jesus, Gracie,” he bites off, and she can feel his fingers digging into her where they rest on her upper and lower back. “You gotta stop that, sweetheart, before I—”

“Make me,” she teases, revelling in these small, rare moments where she has the upper hand.

His head snaps up and she feels her heart skip a beat at the expression on his face, those silvery irises as thin as crescent moons against the deep black of his dilated pupils. His lips curl in a familiar smirk as he bounces her up higher in his arms. Laughing in surprise, she loses her grip on him and has to put her arms around his neck instead for balance.

At the new height he has her, she can feel the tip of his cock nudging into her liquid centre.

She lets out a breath that extends into a moan, feeling him enter her as she opens for him further. He holds her steady, hands cupping her ass as he guides her down, then back up, then down again, allowing her body time to accommodate him comfortably.

“Oh,” she whimpers, the sensation almost too much for her to bear. “I can’t—I’ve never—”

“Shhh.” He shifts and one hand goes to the back of her neck, drawing her head down his shoulder, while his other arm grips her around her hips. “I got you.”

Slowly, slowly he thrusts and pulls back, thrusts and pulls back, shallow and fluid movements, her body giving and giving some more, until he holds her tightly against him, their pelvises notched together, him fully seated within her.

There is never a moment in which she feels so vulnerable as the moment when they’re connected like this. Her body trembles with emotion, the full weight of the day finally crashing down on her. She tightens her thighs against his hips and her arms around his neck, tilting her head to kiss his wet, freckled shoulder, neck and jaw, happy that the steady stream of water from the showerhead prevents him from noticing the tears streaking down her cheeks.

She can’t do this right now, she can’t allow herself to succumb to this moment, these feelings, because if she does, she’s going to say something she regrets. Something that will ruin everything.

So she distracts herself with the physicality of what they’re doing and with the pressing need for release.

“Move,” she begs with a sob that hopefully he believes is impassioned rather than emotional. She rocks her hips against him, needing the moment to end just as much as she needs it to last forever.

He quickly and silently obeys, using her body to create a rhythm that matches his own, crowding her against the corner of the shower, holding her securely in his arms. She can feel his heart pounding against her body and without thinking, she digs her teeth into the soft skin where his neck meets shoulder, not hard enough to draw blood but certainly enough to leave a mark.

The sudden action, fierce and uncharacteristic of her, almost possessive in its intensity, clearly surprises him. His hips stutter against hers and his hands grip her tightly—so tightly that she knows she’ll be seeing the bruises in the morning. He lets out a hoarse shout and she can feel his release inside her and that’s all it takes to send her hurtling over the edge with him. Letting out a cry that matches his, she rides the wave of her own climax, her body holding tightly to his, inside and out.

They stay like that for a beat, hearts pounding, Grace’s breath echoing shakily against the tiles. Gently, Mason disentangles her from him and sets her down, still holding her against him firmly. He strokes her back until she can get her breathing and pulse under control.

Once she’s steady, he pulls away from her. She inadvertently lets out a whimper as the water, now lukewarm, causes goosebumps to rise on her skin, the heat from his body too tempting to be taken from her. She has no reason to be concerned, however, because he’s back on her almost immediately, this time with a soft, soapy cloth in his hand that he begins to wash with her with.

Long, languid strokes down her back, her arms, the backs of her legs. Gently between her legs as he washes away the intermingled essence of what they’ve just done, rinsing and rewashing, in light, soft strokes.

She allows him his ministrations, feeling sleepier and more languorous by the moment, enjoying the feel of him caring for her. She registers that the soap has a light scent, inoffensive to her own nostrils, but she can’t help but wonder if it bothers him.

Reaching up lazily, with an arm that feels sluggish and heavier than usual, she brushes the damp hair back from his forehead.

“The soap—?” she tries, taking the wash cloth from him and allowing it to drop between them. She steps back slightly and rinses herself with the water streaming down.

“It’s fine.” He shrugs. “I can only smell you.”

“Me—?” She realizes belatedly he means her arousal, and the evidence of their union, and her face flares up with heat once more. His smirk turns into a full fledged grin.

“Oh, sweetheart, if I could make you blush like that forever, I’d be one lucky son of a bitch.”

The word forever seems to hang between them and the smile drops quickly from his face at her sharp intake of breath.

“Turn around,” he says gruffly and she obeys quickly, reluctant to allow the moment to be shattered completely.

She hears the sound of another liquid dispenser and the telltale coconut scent of her favourite shampoo fills the humid space – when the Agency does something, they really do it right, she thinks, impressed and a little weirded out – before she feels Mason’s hands in her hair.

If she’d expected impatience or roughness from him in this endeavour, she’s pleasantly surprised to be proven wrong. For all his brusqueness and usual lack of desire to perform acts of service for others – outside those related to sexual pleasure – he takes his time with her hair, leisurely massaging in the shampoo, fingertips expertly pressing into her scalp and lathering the wet strands.

She tilts her head back and closes her eyes, a hum of pleasure escaping her lips. The warm water streams over her body and she’s convinced she’d be able to fall asleep standing if she let herself.

After a few more moments of quiet bliss, Mason places his hands on her shoulders and turns her back around. He gently tilts her chin up until the water is streaming over her hair now and she brings her own hands up to assist in rinsing out all the shampoo.

As she gets the shampoo out of her hair, his hands idly tease and caress her, his fingers running over her body once more in light strokes. The touch doesn’t seem to be intended to reignite anything; instead, it appears to be for the simple pleasure of just touching her.

They’re both quiet, the need or the desire to speak seemingly sapped out of them, and she allows him his touches, until all the soap is out of her hair and off her body. Then, she languidly opens her eyes and just watches him—watches how his eyes follow his hands as they move over her body, tracing her with his gaze as well as his fingers.

“Your turn?” she asks, finally, her voice a quiet echo in the small space.

He shakes his head and gathers her close to him, kissing her soundly on the mouth. “I’m good. Ready to come out?”

Instead of answering, she wraps her arms around his neck, stroking down his back and into his damp hair, the unruly waves curling around her fingers more than usual. She kisses him again, then nods against his lips, her eyes dropping closed of their own volition.

The rest is a blur. She feels him towel her off, remaining completely boneless the entire time and succumbing to his ministrations with nary a physical protest. He must dry himself as well, but who knows, because next thing she feels is him carrying her to her bed. She snuggles even more securely into his arms and she can swear she registers his lips against her forehead.

When he settles her on top of the covers she doesn’t even bother to do anything except burrow herself underneath them, still naked, hair frizzing and damp.

Her eyes are still closed, but she knows he hasn’t left, can feel him like a physical ache. Hovering but not touching or sitting. She doesn’t know if he’s in the process of dressing or stark naked. Doesn’t know if his intent is to stay or to go.

The need to keep her feelings inside, to not...ruin things, or push him away, is so, so strong. She could ask him to stay and he could go anyway, taking her heart with him. She could stay silent and wait for him to make his own decision, knowing the outcome would likely be the same.

As she wars with herself, feeling time ticking past, feeling him slowly slipping away, an image arises in her mind unbidden.

It’s his eyes.

She thinks of how they’d looked that morning, clouded with worry and not a hint of lasciviousness, even though she knew she’d been about ninety-nine percent see-through as she’d squelched up the drive.

How they’d looked when he’d apologized to her for his harsh words at Haley’s the other day, contrite and a little bit confused.

The way they’d held anger and, more than that, hurt when Bobby had spoken about kissing her.

And then she thinks about the look she’d seen in them as they’d all been overrun by Trappers and, immediately afterwards, as she had faced certain kidnapping by a supernatural he knew he could not defend her from.

He’d been terrified.

Those storm-grey irises, so familiar and already so dear, had been filled with abject terror and fear.

Fear for her.

The images fade as she hears him rustling, collecting his things.

She thinks again about how he’d been scared for her. Scared of losing her.

She’s scared, too.

She’s scared that all of this might be for naught. That she’ll fall deeper and deeper in love and he’ll soon be looking for a way out.

But tonight isn’t for fears, she decides. Tonight, they’re safe. Tonight, they’re together.

Tonight, he's hers.

“Mason?” Her eyes remain closed, but she hears his movements stop. She lets out a shaky breath, releasing the final bit of her trepidation, before speaking with conviction:

“I want you to stay.”

X X X X

👀 tags: @utterlyinevitable , @ethansramsey , @otherworldlypresents , @worldoffandoms , @raleighcarrera , @ejunkiet , @starrystarrytrouble , @terrm9 , @openheartthot , @octobereighth , @campsearchlight , @coldshrugs , @kelseaaa , @homeformyheart , @intothestrawberryjar , @magebastard , @kodysteach , @newfangledsoul , @silma-words , @lalizah , @detective-sweetheart , @lem-20 , @ifshebreathes-shesathot , @takemyopenheart , @v2itbwstct (if you want to be added/no longer want to be tagged, pls let me know!)

#the wayhaven chronicles #mason x detective #twc fanfic #mason x grace #twc mason #specialist agent m #twc #twc demo #twc demo spoilers

[softcallofdutyimagines]

Curséd Things | Chpt 2

Chpt 1

Witch!reader x werewolf!woods

After a whim to explore the forest deeper, you end up running into the wolfman again. The meeting does not go well, but you are determined to learn more about such a creature.

---

They always said people go missing in these woods.

Now you're beginning to understand why.

The voodoo, the... Monster.

There was always talk of a witch in these woods. You planned on being the witch of these woods.

It would appear the stories are true.

But you don't scare easy... Hell, the whole reason you're out here is to learn more about the arcane. A naive part of you wonders if it would be possible to make contact with whatever force is inhabiting these woods, but at this point... It seems unlikely.

No, you were a fool indeed to think that anything other then danger awaited you here.

Stories of the witch, you were more then familiar with. But... Stories of the beast, were never made.

That is where your curiosity lies.

You sit in the comfort of your room, the only room of the second floor, a small array of books around you. Along the wall stands a bookshelf built into it spreading from floor to ceiling. You don't have much to fill it just yet, but your sketch book, Grimoire, and occultology books will have to do.

One such occult and mythos tome lays open before you. It's turned to the section of cursed creatures, both of man and animal. In your hands lays an old, leather bound sketchbook. You sketch carefully and lightly on the old, yellow pages and think back to that night...

You only remember little features of the creature, but it's enough to fill little portions of the page. You draw it's paws, the texture of it's fur, and the shape of it's teeth and mouth, but of course, of all these things, you remember the eyes the most.

They were wild, intense, and focused, like nothing you've ever seen before, and yet... They were intelligent and sad and in pain too.

You lay down your pencil and stare at the perfect rendering of the creatures eye. So life like... It almost feels like it's looking back at you.

Your fingers wander to the page, the tips giving the illustration a gentle caress.

Who is this person? And what did they do to end up like this...

It's a perfect autumn day out. Sunny, but just enough cloud coverage to make it tolerable. A chilly wind tickles your ears, but your peacoat does a sufficient job of keeping you warm.

Today you mean to get a closer look at the twig voodoo dolls. If you could identify any information of the ritual, perhaps you could learn more about who you share this forest with...

It doesn't take long for you to find your way back. How could you forget after a night like that?

You take a deep breath as you take in the sight once more. Somehow, seeing them in the light of day doesn't make it much better. There's something uncanny about the little things. Something beyond the trophies of the victims attached to each one.

Like a whole forest of faceless eyes watching you...

You pull your coat tighter and fish around in your pocket until you retrieve a small notebook. Thankfully, it doesn't take you long to jot down the notes you need. This place gives you the creeps.

After a few more scribbles, you put away your supplies and take a deep breath. The air is crisp and smells of freshly fallen leaves. It is deceptively comforting.

You look back towards the way you came, ready to return. Then... A strange itching comes at the back of your neck. The little hairs of it stand up, but not out of fear. No, something more dangerous then that.

Excitement.

What other things might you find out in these woods? You're deep enough already to have come across signs of the witch, perhaps there's more you could find to deepen your understanding of the arcane...

You know you're a fool, but it doesn't stop you. With a smile on your face you go off, headlong into the depths of the forest.

The brush is thick here, and you find yourself battling to get through certain areas, but the sense of adventure and the scenery around you makes it all worth it. Leaves of purple, orange, red, and gold cover the trees and the ground, and a friendly few dance in the air around you.

You climb over a massive, fallen, rotten tree trunk. You hop and maneuver across a little creek. You dance around in an open clearing, feeling the sun on your face and the mountain wildflowers bending and swaying alongside you. They are impressed with your show, and wish you well as you continue on.

And well it is, even as you come across a badly decayed, crumbling brick building.

The ancient building greets you solemnly, but it does not bid you welcome. Long, spindly vines have consumed most of what remains of the original masonry. The window panes still hold some shards of filthy, darkened glass, just as the threshold has some remains of a stately wooden door.

You take a deep breath for courage. The air here tastes of rot and decay. Tepidly, you approach the gaping hole of an entry way and cross over.

The whole place is like a snapshot of a time past. All the furniture remains, although most of it is long rotten. Were it not for obvious neglect if the place, you'd almost think someone still lived here.

You wander further in and round a sad, sagging wall and freeze instantly.

There in the kitchen lay a pile of bones laid out in such a way that whomever they once belonged to was apparently left to decay where they were killed. A tatter of clothing and a partial head of hair still remain.

You clap a hand to your mouth, eyes wide in emotion unidentifiable. Without thinking you step back slowly, tears welling in your eyes. Ah, you know what this feeling is. Terror.

Someone is here. Killing.

As the tears roll down, you move your hand away, prepared to turn and bolt. Your back hits against a sturdy, solid figure. A low growl finds it's way to your ear...

You scream and jump away, turning to find... A man.

A ragged, filthy, terrible looking man.

His hair and beard are black as a raven and grown out with lack of maintenance. His face and skin are dirty and stained and some of the patches of filth are a little too reddish for your liking. His clothes, a tattered and torn set of military fatigues, hang from his skinny body. The damage looks to be more from natural wear and tear then anything else, which only confuses you further.

Surely he hasn't been living out here?

Of all the grime and filth, one thing stands out the most from the figure. His piercing, clear blue eyes. You're certain you've seen such eyes before...

The man looks you up and down quickly, sizing you up it seems. He sniffs in your general direction, then growls low again.

"What the fuck are you doing here!"

His voice is so loud, so angry, it nearly stops your heart out of surprise. The man doesn't even give you a chance to respond, "Get out! Now!"

He points towards the remains of the doorway and takes a few threatening steps forward. Terror moves you to action more then anything. For a moment you're afraid he'll grab you as you try to fly past, but before you even set to run, his pointing arm drops. He grimaces and holds his other hand over a bothersome wound.

Despite the speed at which you flee, your mind is quicker. Quick enough to know that the wolf man is hurt still from when last you saw him.

That very same night, the strange man consumes your thoughts as you prepare your dinner.

What was he doing there anyway? Who was he? You've never seen a werewolf before... You wish you could get to know him more.

You remember seeing him favoring that arm from when he was injured by the hunters. Would he possibly let you get close enough to help?

When the following day comes... That's just what you plan to find out.

You pack a leather satchel of healing items, adorn your sliver necklace, and head out early. It's a bit of a trek to get back out there, and admittedly... You do get a bit lost on the way.

At last, there it is.

With one hand holding your pendant for courage, you march up to the crumbling house boldly. You call out to the wild man, perhaps this time he won't feel the need to sneak up on you.

Unfortunately, you wait a long while.

So much so, that you consider leaving. It's only by some strange luck that you run into him on the edge of the house's property.

He growls and threatens you again, much the same as last time, but you bargain for peace.

"I-I'm just here to help you", you hold your hands up in surrender, and carefully point to his arm. The wound is looking bad.

"I don't need your help!", he barks, and storms past you. He appears to be limping now too

"Wait!", you catch up and get in front of him again.

"Will you fucking leave me alone!"

"All I want is to help! Aren't you the wolf? I see your arm is still inj-"

"I don't know anything about that, and I sure as fuck don't know anything about you, so get the fuck out of here!", he argues.

You assume he's lying. He nearly bit your head off that night, how could he possibly not remember you?

"What? Bu- Who even are you? Why are you out here?"

The man tries to walk past you, but he seems especially angered by your questions. He whips around, teeth clenched and seething.

"Look, if I have to tell you one more ti-"

He stumbles to the ground, tripping over his own lame leg. You instinctively come down to help him, only for be warned to back off.

"Stay the fuck away from me!", he swipes a hand at you, but it would seem it's his bad one. He can't even extend it, it hurts so much.

You kneel by him anyway, "Just stay still"

Your words are firm, but not unkind. Something about them compels him to comply. With an agitated growl, the man lays still in the cool autumn grass, always watching as you turn about from him to your bag.

Carefully, you take his arm and clean the injury. He jerks away and growls some more, but you're persistent. It's a tall task taking care of his bullet wound, but soon enough it's done and bandaged. He turns and sits up for his leg.

You think you may have gained a bit of trust.

He speaks to you first, "Why the fuck are you here, anyway?"

"I live here, in the cottage a little ways away from here. I heard there's a witch in these woods, bu-"

"Witch? No shit there's a fucking witch! Er, was, heh. See that pile of bones back in there? Bitch got what she deserved"

You freeze.

"You killed her?"

"Of fucking course I killed her, you see what she did to me! I didn't even do anything, I was just fucking... Lost and hungry!", he chucks a small stone.

"...Just for that?"

"Yeah! Now I'm just always hungry, but not like... For food. Not always. It's like... Wait. Why the fuck am I telling you this? Are you almost done!"

You try to calm him down and quickly finish bandaging his leg.

Once you're done, he scrambles to get up, "Fucking finally!", he starts to turn to bolt away, but stops, looking at you over his shoulder, "And uh... Thanks"

Before you can say a word, with impossible speed he disappears into the tree line. You're alone again.

#black ops cold war #call of duty #frank woods x reader #witch!reader #werewolf!woods

[sooibian]

Trespassing is Prohibited!

Pairing: Baekhyun x Fem!Reader ft. Chanyeol

Genre: Fluff! Fluff! Fluff! Crack. Friends to Lovers AU, University AU (ish) 

Description: Byun Baekhyun has had enough. He finally wants to ‘man up’ and make you his. But things continue to spiral out of control all thanks to his friend, philosopher, and guide (a.k.a. The Worst Wingman Ever) Park Chanyeol.

Warnings: A very rambly Baekhyun and a longwinding confession

Word Count: + 3k

-------------------------------------------

“You want me to talk about the weather?” Baekhyun squeaked into the phone after having breathed in helium from the blown up balloon in his hand.

“The weather, politics...the economy even.” Heaving slightly, Chanyeol spoke after a moment, his usual gruff and masculine voice reduced to a wafer thin high pitched squeal, sending Baekhyun into a fit of helium suffused giggles.

Taking another drag off of the balloon, Baekhyun warbled and piped, “Say...say that again. Say economy again!”

“Eco...econo-” Chanyeol’s extreme outburst of laughter at the sound of his own voice, rendered him unable to pronounce the final syllable.

All along, you stood at the door, comfortably leaning against its frame and eavesdropping on their conversation or the blatant lack thereof. Chanyeol suddenly wanted Baekhyun to talk about the weather, politics, and the economy? You thought you’d grown immune to your best friends’ antics but they continued to up the ante and left you baffled, amused, or both every single time. 

You cleared your throat to catch Baekhyun’s attention but it fell on deaf ears. He rolled around in bed, breathing in helium, laughing hysterically, chanting the words ‘economy, weather, and politics’.

“BAEKHYUN!” You screamed at last. He scrambled to face you, wearing an expression of a deer caught in the headlights. You finally had the entirety of Baekhyun’s eight second attention span all to yourself.

“YAH! YAH! YAH! What are you doing here?” Baekhyun retaliated and then whispered something into his phone, stuffed it inside his pocket, straightened his shirt and sat primly on the edge of the bed like a child who’d been caught eating forbidden candy. He threw you an accusatory glance but there was an unmistakable hint of embarrassment and panic in his eyes.

Peering over your glasses, you snapped at him, “I’ve come to pick up my phone charger because you obviously lacked the courtesy to return it!”

“Oh!” His lips protruded into a pout and he tilted his head to the side as if in deep thought, “I’ll bring it over in the evening.”

“Why are you acting so….dazed and confused?” Slouching, you took careful, deliberate steps towards the bed and sat down next to him. Leaning into his frame, you sniffed his neck and whispered, “Are you...Baekhyun don’t tell me you’re on something!”

Levelling his face with yours, he searched your eyes before flicking your forehead in response to your wild allegation. “Shut up! The audacity! You’re the one barging into my house in the middle of the day. Trespassing is prohibited!”

Confused, you pulled away from him and asked, “What are you saying?”

The corners of his lips drooped. Brows knit together, he replied, “You should’ve called first!”

His extremely out of character standoffishness made you uncomfortable. You were clearly not interrupting anything other than a helium infused gala which, truth be told, you were greatly annoyed at not being invited to. Neither were you inconveniencing him in any way. You were to simply fetch the electronic device and head home. And this wasn’t anything out of character for you either. You’d always felt free to walk into his goshiwon as you did your own. Yet, here he was, dark hair unkempt, dressed in his usual baggy clothes, accusing you - his best friend, his emergency contact, the one he moved cities with for University, the only one who had the passcode to his goshiwon - of breaking and entering. You knew Baekhyun since the day you’d learnt to walk and in all these years he’d made you feel a lot of emotions - happiness, sadness, mostly anger but not once had he made you feel unwelcome. 

Your heart sank to your stomach at this abrupt coldness.

“Baekhyun, you took my charger, remember? My phone died.” Fighting the lump in your throat, you explained politely and proceeded to rummage his desk drawers for the said item.

“Wait!” He came trotting after you barefooted as you dashed out of his room. He grabbed your wrist to hold you firmly in place. 

While you were no stranger to physical contact with Baekhyun, these past three months since your break up had started to get increasingly excruciating for you. A slight brush of his hand with yours sent tingles through your skin, made your cheeks flame, your legs turned to jelly, and alarms blared inside your head. At first you thought it was just your hormones messing with you - he was an attractive man and you’d only recently been deprived of love and attention but you’d slowly begun to realize it was something far beyond that. Something you had an inherent knowledge of but were not quite ready to confront yet. 

“I’m leaving.” You replied matter-of-factly. Yanking your hand free from his grasp, you didn’t bother to look at him. “Helium makes you stupid!” You yelled instead, and banged the main door shut behind you.

.

.

.

After a week of radio silence (though he was still clearly avoiding you at campus) Byun Baekhyun had finally started texting you again and you realized that he was now a changed man.

He'd gotten...boring.

Every morning he'd send you a no effort good morning text along with, lo and behold, weather updates! Bland messages ending with the same emoji. Mostly alternating between 'Good morning! Don't forget to wear a mask today, the fine dust level is scary! ☺️' and 'Good morning! Don't forget to carry an umbrella today, it might rain! ☺️'

You'd almost always reply with a disinterested 👍 but he remained undeterred. 

Now it was as if Baekhyun and Chanyeol came as a package. The duo seemed to be joined at the hip and they walked in the opposite direction every time they caught you approaching them. Movements frantic, whispering in each other’s ears as if they were plotting to start a rebellion to overthrow the Government. But the Morning Daily from Baekhyun remained unchanged. Until one day, you snapped and replied with an emoji depicting another special digit used to indicate an entirely different sentiment from the sweet old 👍.

.

.

.

Later that evening you were dressed up for a double date set up by your classmate Jiwoo, your only “friend” other than Baekhyun and Chanyeol. She was to introduce you to her boyfriend’s friend who she thought was your type. Not looking for anything more than just a stress free and light evening, you decided to dress to the nines, let your hair down, and forget all about Baekhyun’s pigheadedness. 

Dabbing on just a hint of blush along your cheekbones, you gave yourself a quick once over in the mirror. It was then that a familiar beeping reached your ears and you rushed out of your bedroom to greet the unexpected visitor with a snarky comment.

“Trespassing is prohibited!” Crossing your arms over your chest, you glared at Baekhyun through your glasses. Dressed in a black hoodie, head covered in the Nike cap you’d gifted him for his birthday, twirling a pen between his fingers he just stood there, smiling sheepishly with a bag from your favourite desserts cafe in his other hand. It seemed like he’d come straight to yours after his lectures.

His gaze hesitantly roved over you and he questioned softly, “Going somewhere?”

Slinging a shoulder bag on, you averted your eyes and remarked, “It’s none of your business.” 

“Yah! Don’t be like that”, he said with a soft chuckle yet his voice bore a hint of dejection and apology.

“That’s rich coming from you. Allow me to remind you how strange you and Chanyeol have been acting since the last two weeks!”

“I’m - I’m ready to..talk about it.” He quipped, awkwardly proceeding to put the box of desserts in the refrigerator. He then very comfortably took a seat at the kitchen table.

Hands on hips, you sauntered to the main door and shook your head, gesturing for him to leave. “Not today, Baek. I’m running late.”

He pulled back the chair next to his, and drummed his fingers on the table nervously. “Come sit. I won’t take too long. I promise.”

Letting out a deep sigh, you dragged your feet to the table and slumped into the chair.

“You look nice.” Lips stretched into a thin line, he stole a glance at you and said to his cuticles instead. 

“BAEKHYUN!”

“Okay..okay sorry… so the day you came home?”

“Please stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Drawing out sentences in a question.”

Inhaling deeply, a slightly irate Baekhyun replied, “I’m trying okay.”

“Listen, first of all I am really annoyed at not being invited to that helium balloon call? So I’d advise you to think twice before saying anything stupid. Tell me...why did you two think it was a good idea -”

Embarrassed, he interrupted to get that part of the discussion out of the way. “Chanyeol and I just wanted to know what we sounded like… over the phone, you know? We sounded..err...squeakier.”

“Okay...I hate to say this but ...makes sense, I guess? Why wasn’t I invited?”

“Because - ”

You leaned in closer, questioning eyes locked with his.

“Because -”

“Baek, I’m running late!”

“It’s because we were talking about you!”

“No? You were talking about politics -”

“Politics, weather and -”

‘The economy’ The two of you said in unison, face averted from each other to keep from laughing at the recent memory of Chanyeol’s oddly peculiar way of saying it.

“Yes..so Chanyeol and I were discussing how you probably don’t see me as a man? Like … a man man?”

Face scrunched into an expression of pure confusion, your mouth fell open to answer Baekhyun but no words came out. His lower lip had begun to wobble slightly and he rubbed his palms on his thighs before continuing. “He was of the opinion -”

“You’re literally the only one to ever pay heed to Loey’s opinions!”

“Yah! Don’t shit talk my Loey!”

“Yah! He’s my Loey too! Moving on”, pinching the bridge of your nose, you urged him to continue with a curt nod.

Baekhyun straightened his spine, threw his shoulders back and explained, “We had a thought.” 

“Both of you? The same one?”

“Ye-yes?”

“This is not going to end well. I can feel it in my bones.”

“Can you stop acting like you’re better than us? Just for a moment?”

“Fine! Go ahead.”

“We thought that it was about time you started to see me that way.”

“That way?”

“The way you used to look at your greasy vermin of an ex?”

“With sheer contempt and disgust?”

“That was after. I mean like before.” Hands balled into fists, Baekhyun looked at your expectantly.

“I don’t get it.”

He gave you an exaggerated smile as if to centre himself before throwing more vague questions your way. “What is the one thing - the only thing - I can actually cook?”

“Haejangguk?”

“Exactly! Do you get it now?”

“I have a thousand of reasons ...or ideas as to how you and Chanyeol would manage to relate Haejangguk with politics, weather, and the economy but I’d rather not dive into that cesspool. Instead I’ll allow you to explain.”

Baekhyun’s eyebrows shot up in concern as he explained softly, “Haejangguk helps with your hangovers. It took me fourteen tries to master! And it was Loey who ate every single spoilt batch. Without any complaints!”

“I wouldn’t say you’re any good at it even now but...sure whatever.” Rolling your eyes, you murmured.

Your phone chimed with a text from Jiwoo but before you could answer, Baekhyun snatched it from your hands and shoved it in the pocket of his hoodie.

“Pay attention. This is more important than that loser you’re going to meet.”

“Baekhyun!”

“No, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t watch you go from one idiot to another.”

“I’ve literally only dated two guys! Why are you suddenly getting territorial?”

“I am not getting territorial! What I’m saying is…  I spent these two weeks rehearsing the right thing to say to you but - screw that! And listen. You cannot do this anymore!”

“Do what?”

“You cannot waltz into my thoughts anytime you like! For instance I’m eating a tangerine, I think of how it would magically taste sweeter if I could only share it with you. Your face suddenly flashes before my eyes and I lose my mind while I’m doing the most mundane things like riding the subway or having a meal or talking to someone. I go grocery shopping and the first thing I pick up is strawberry milk and it’s not even my favourite! But I bought a whole damn carton because you love strawberry milk! I have cucumbers! Cucumbers! In my fridge because what if you crave oi muchim with your ramen some day and woe betide me if I DO NOT HAVE CUCUMBERS! I waste 4,050 Won every week on cucumbers but it DOES NOT MATTER because it would be nothing short of a tragedy if you want something and I can’t give it to you. Like, have you looked at yourself when you get upset? When your lips stretch into a thin line and your eyes ever so slightly lose their sparkle. It makes me want to pluck the bloody stars from the sky and lay them at your feet if it means that I can make you smile again. Do you know how warm you are? I mean, like, physically warm. Especially when you’ve woken up from a nap. So, so warm. I feel like wrapping you in my arms, putting your head on my chest and just...staying like that. Freezing the moment in time. Freezing the moment in time! Look at what you’ve done to me! I'm saying these cheesy things and I'm doing boring things like studying politics and understanding the state of affairs and keeping up with fine dust levels just so that you see me differently! So that I can somehow make you believe that you can rely on me. Think of me as more than just a friend who used to pull your pigtails back in the day.” 

The beat of your heart boomed in your ears. You hugged your coat tighter around yourself as if to conceal its conspicuous sound. Your throat felt dry and your spine liquified in the face of his overwhelming confession. You had a million things to say to him. And there was one specific thing you were dying to do the moment your eyes landed on his soft, strawberry pink lips.

Eyebrow cocked, you said in a low whisper. “Why not buy a jar of oi muchim instead? It’ll surely last longer than a week.” 

He buried his face in his hands and let out a shallow, pained wail and continued. “I'm done.” He looked up at you. Eyes droopy, lips pouty. “Put me out of my misery. Look, if you don't like me back the way I like you just ...forget that I said any of this. We can go back to being what we were at 7 o’clock. It's 7:30 now, we can rewind, 30 minutes. But don't...don't...what the hell how can you just sit there and act like you're watching a freaking movie. React! Say something! Actually...don't! Oh my god this is a trainwreck! I had rehearsed the right thing to say...but I got distracted by the indentations on the corners of your lips..I think I'm having a full blown breakdown… I just want to - ugh!"

"You just want to what, Baekhyunnie?"

You took his fists in your hands, eased them open and laced your fingers with his.

He clamped his eyes shut, slouched to make himself small, and muttered. "Don't call me that!"

Giggling softly, you repeated, "Baekhyunnie?"

Baekhyun flicked his eyes open. Unabashedly studying the curve of your lips, he whispered ‘Stop.’ His hand gently rested on your cheek, eyes seeking approval. You nodded in response, feeling your face flame. His honeyed gaze darkened as he leaned in closer, a sweet scent of bubblegum wafting in the space between you. His hand found the back of your neck, lips ever so slightly parted. Finding his movements excruciatingly slow you gravitated towards him while your breath hitched in your throat. He took your hand and placed it on his chest as his silken lips melted into yours. He held you like you were fragile, like he was experiencing the sensation of your skin on his for the very first time, committing every slight brush, every single touch to memory. You felt the wild hammering of his heart against your fingers despite the thickness of his cozy hoodie, your own reacting in likeliness. 

Baekhyun held you by your shoulders and gently pulled away, breaking the most delectable first kiss you’d ever had. Tilting his head to the side he looked at you briefly before making vague hand gestures and shaking his head. He opened his mouth to say something but found himself at a loss for words. Face flushed, he opened his mouth again after a while only to clamp it shut. 

Byun Baekhyun was processing.

After having had your fun with his perplexity, you smiled at him and raised an eyebrow questioningly, prodding him to speak.

“So...does this mean we’re?” He asked, voice faintly tremulous.

Pursing your lips to stifle a giggle you teased, “Yeah?”

“Am I your...I mean...are you my….girl-girlfriend?” Averting his eyes from yours, he inquired, while shyly rubbing the back of his neck.

Half shrugging, you answered, “Depends.”

Baekhyun’s face fell. “Depends?!” He exclaimed, almost in falsetto.

"Depends on whether you want to continue sending me daily weather updates.” You deadpanned.

“This feels like a trick question.”

“Yes or no?”

“N-no?”

“Then, yes. Byun Baekhyun, congratulations, you’ve earned the unequivocal and irrevocable right to call me your girlfriend.”

“Does it mean that you didn’t like the new and improved version of me?” He asked hesitantly, face clouded over with caution.

“That wasn’t the Baekhyunnie I fell for.”

“Yah!” Surprised at your sudden blurry confession, his eyes grew into large brown circles but the moment his gaze met with yours, his expression softened again. He smiled sheepishly and spoke tenderly, “Okay...noted. You too can call me your”, he cleared his throat, took your hand in his, placed a soft kiss on it and used his most dulcet voice to say, “boyfriend.”

-------------------------------------------------

A/N: hello, hello @you-did-well-moon​ hope you enjoyed this very cheesy confession from Baekhyun! 

@exolssecretsanta​

#exolssecretsanta20 #exosnet #exowritersnet #bbh-net #exo fanfic #baekhyun fanfic #exo fluff #baekhyun fluff #exo oneshot #baekhyun oneshot #baekhyun #baekhyun oneshots #baekhyun x you #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun romance #exo romance #baekhyun imagines #exo imagines #baekhyun fanfiction

[bored-storyteller]

Thank you dear Anon for your request! Also because, I had already started writing a possible sequel on my own, your request arrives perfectly!

Note: I imagined these events after the one-shot you find here. In any case there are only subtle references.

35- Tokyo Ghoul- Uta x human!Reader (pt. 2)

"Beyond the Mask"

Uta sees you there, curled up in the chair in front of the table like a wet little bird, despite the fact that you are now wearing his warm clothes, which fall softly on your frightened figure. He doesn't mind lending it to you, on the contrary, he tried to find something that wasn't too extravagant, coming out with a heavy black sweatshirt and wide gray pants. He thought that this clothing could help you put yourself at ease, but he also understands that being wrapped in his clothes for you doesn't have to be so reassuring. You probably accepted this only to avoid being immersed in the nauseating humidity of the body fluids that stick to your skin.

He can't tell if your following him was a sign of courage or fear. You didn't say anything, and the few words you whispered were kind; you also thanked him. It almost seems like you are straining to try to be calm, but it's the small, meaningless gestures that betray you. Earlier you insisted that he be the first to shower and change, although it would have been more logical for you to go first; yet perhaps for you that was a way to get the killer monster out of sight, or at least partially forget it.

Uta is unable to understand you right now, nor does he really pretend to, he is already grateful enough that you are intelligent enough to understand that it would be almost suicidal to return to your home in the condition you were in, especially after what it happened.

No, he doesn't pretend to understand you, but to understand himself a little more, yes. Uta is a labyrinth, with a thousand streets inside, which intersect and cancel each other out. A thousand paradoxical streets where after a turning point you can find someone completely different than the person you met. Yet all those roads are authentic and sincere, in their sweetness or in their violence.

He is aware of this, it is clear to him, but as the owner of his soul he should know how to pull the strings, understand what is happening inside. Yet he doesn't know now, or he can't really explain it.

He feels sadness, a deep sadness to see you so small and afraid. He would like to hope your snuggling up to him in that alley was dictated by mutual trust and not despair, but he doesn't even know if you're aware of that. He doesn't really want you to be scared of him, but at the same time he sees no way to stop it.

He also feels angry with you. Because deep down he knows that you are unconsciously judging him. The same fear you evidently feel makes him angry. He didn't eat you, right? So why do you have to be so scared in front of him? It was you who ran into his arms, wasn't it?

Yet he still can't tell you that, because you are doing absolutely nothing threatening towards him. You simply indulge him timidly, tremblingly accepting his care that will never be able to reassure you.

Maybe you've never really felt as confident in him as Uta hoped. Being in his house, first naked in his bathroom and now in his clothes maybe it wouldn't have been pleasant for you even if he had been human, let alone now with all the terror you've accumulated… after what you saw.

Uta is the author and accomplice of things that you would consider horrible, it is his nature, he is not able to change, he needs that to feel alive.

But you also make him feel alive. He likes that cordial, playful confidence that you take with him, the one that remains within limits, but which somehow transmitted the affection of a kind heart; like that time, when you playfully smeared his nose with red paint with the brush you were using. You apologized right away, but you laughed happily and enjoyed watching him, and Uta liked it, so much that he returned the favor with some yellow color.

You are spontaneous, and he likes it, even if now this spontaneity of yours is pulling you away from him, even though you try to pretend it isn't.

In the end, he really wants to take care of you. But how can he do it? He can't even really offer you anything other than a cup of bitter coffee.

He looks for a moment at his own reflection in the dark drink, so indistinct and blurry, before placing the cup on the shelf in front of you slowly.

You look at him suddenly, as if you have just woken up. Uta smiles kindly at you: he has always been kind to you. You smile at him too, but he could swear that you only do it to please him, for fear of a negative reaction from him.

He would really like to sit in front of you, so he can talk as you do every time you meet in the coffee shop, but he instead leans against the wall with his back, a wall quite far from your warmth and your presence. He too has a hot cup in his tattooed hands, but he doesn't really want coffee; maybe he just hoped that if he drank something familiar to you - something that didn't speak your language before he was devoured - you would trust again.

You take a sip, probably more out of politeness than out of desire, and your expression turns into a small involuntary pout as you perceive the bitterness of the coffee on your tongue.

Uta would find it funny if it weren't for the whole situation.

"I'm sorry…" his quiet voice of him draws your attention to himself. He doesn't really know what he's apologizing for. "I have no ... sugar ..."

The relaxed musicality of his voice is slightly cracked by uncertainty.

He has no sugar to console you, no regular sugar at least. It's already strange that he got the coffee. He never really welcomes real guests, only customers, now that he thinks about it; there are rare times when he really has to welcome someone outside of his "business", generally speaking.

You do not answer immediately, your gaze cannot help wandering over his figure, his body, his chest and his abdomen.

He smooths his baggy black sweater, as if to make you realize he's noticing your eyes, and then take a sip from his cup.

"Don't worry, it's okay ..." you assure "in the end ... I like to try new things ..."

Are you talking about sugar?

Your voice is a twitter that leaves him with vague hope. Are you trying to tell him something?

He's not really afraid of you going around talking, you told him you wouldn't and he knows you won't. You are not that different from Renji in this.

You turn the cup over in your fingers, looking at that dark liquid, and then turn to him again.

"Don't ... want to sit down?"

You ask him shyly, as if you feared rejection, but you asked him anyway.

You amaze him, of course. That is a little melancholy surprise, your calling him close, your giving him a little illusion of closeness.

But do you really want him there?

With a nod he slowly approaches, as if he is approaching a wounded animal - or prey - and he slowly sits in front of you.

The cups of coffee that nobody wants look at each other, placed in front, close together, like when you happen to meet at the end of the day in the cafe. It was a good time for Uta, he enjoyed pretending that there were no Ghouls and Humans, silenced his hunger so attracted to you and focused on the pleasure of your presence as if you were no different.

But now the charade is over, you two are not alike, and for some reason it hurts him.

Your gaze rests docile on his face, and he smiles lightly.

He is beautiful, you really think so. In a way, those red and black eyes are the only ones that fit him. Uta is not of an objective beauty, he must like him, and you really like him.

"You know..." your murmur puts him on alert "I ... I hear the news but ... it's hard to think that it could happen to you, when you hear about ghouls ..."

"It didn't happen to you."

His calm voice stops you immediately, and despite his flat tone makes you feel accused. He didn't hurt you, you can't say he's your turn. If anything, he is the turn of your tormentor.

"I ... no ... I meant that I had never thought of meeting one ..."

You justify shy, and he realizes he scared you. You're probably thinking that the first misstep you take will automatically become his next meal.

His lips press in a thin line, while he looks at you calmly.

"We are not that rare, you know ..."

He informs you, understanding that you would never speak if he remained silent.

There were ghouls even more integrated into human society than he. You were kind of his exception to him, his regular break from his violent life, even though he still had other human connections.

"Do you want to eat me?"

The question comes out suddenly, interrupting any flow of thought. It is less insecure than you thought, but deep down you both know that that's the core of it all.

He looks you straight in the eye, without giving in to the gaze and somehow gluing your pupils into his.

He could tell you that if he had wanted he would have done it already, he could say many things, yet he doesn't want to lie, he owes you and you owe it to him.

"It would be nice."

His voice is kind of calming despite the harshness of those words. As scary as they are, you don't react, and let him talk again.

"But it would also be extremely sad for me."

His tattooed fingers twirl around the slowly cooling cup, and you wonder if his heart has started beating a little faster, like yours, despite his mute expression.

"As tempting as eating you may be ... it would be very sad not to see you again."

A spark suddenly lights up in your eyes, it's so beautiful and bright that Uta opens his lips slightly in amazement, seeing that little light in you, so unexpectedly. He can't say if it is the hope of being able to live still that ignited it or that unspoken admission of affection, but that's okay with him.

"Would you be sad, Uta?"

You ask with a voice covered with expectations. He does not know how it happened, but it seems that your focus has shifted to something else, so suddenly.

Your cheeks just blush, and you smile as you look down at your hands. That smile isn't for him, it's for you. Uta wasn't hoping to see you smile again, yet there you were, wrapped in his baggy clothes smiling genuinely, as if you had suddenly forgotten the fear.

Your fingers intertwine in front of the cup, and your face doesn't dare lift up on him, but this time it's not fear that stops you.

“A Ghoul… sure, I had to know. In fact, in the end I knew it. Being a human would have been too trivial for you. "

Take another sip of coffee, and this time you commit yourself to putting up with the bitterness, even if you don't quite succeed.

Uta allows himself a slight amused smile.

"Oh yes?"

His is a rhetorical question that you just nod.

He drinks too, plunging both of you into a less heavy silence, but which still lingers in Uta's mind doubts that he would like to silence.

"Now where will you go?"

He is used to those he cares about disappearing far away. It wouldn't be new to see you walk away from him, he's not really hoping to be able to hold you back, despite what you said. Life simply changes people, and with them the world, he is aware of it, as he is aware of the fact that after this night the world between you two has changed, and as always you will be the one to change with it, while he will remain there, immobile.

"Do you want ... I have to go home?"

You ask confused, glancing towards the door. Night out scares you, you prefer the wolf's lair more than the dark and unpredictable shadows of the dark hours.

You didn't understand what he meant, how could you? Yet somehow Uta expected you to do it, he expected you to tell him this was goodbye. Yeah, is this goodbye?

"No, you don't have to go home if you don't want to ..."

It's hard to ask you to stay, to really stay. It is difficult to ask you to stay with him, because if you refused it would be a defeat, if you felt forced you would no longer be you.

“So you can't eat the food? Normal food I say ... so the idea of inviting you to lunch is out of the question. "

Your words break the melancholy in his mind again. He looks at you, his head slightly bent towards his right shoulder:

"Did you want to invite me to lunch?"

You wonder if it's really that surprising that you had such an idea. Should you be ashamed of it? Maybe this is inappropriate for him?

"I wanted. I mean, I've thought about it. It seemed nice to me. "

It seemed nice to you. You were cute, Uta often thought that. Here it is again, your gentle affection; it would have been a problem to refuse you if you really asked him to share lunch. He had never gotten used to pretending to eat human food, even though he tolerated smells quite well by now.

“Anyway, that's a kind thought of you. Thank you."

Without the glasses, his expression is even more gentle. It seems paradoxical, compared to the figure of him, but still, Uta is so unique.

"Not very kind if it kills you."

You mutter to yourself, looking away in embarrassment. In fact, now that you really know he's a ghoul a lot of your talk may no longer make sense.

"No ..." you hear him chuckle slightly, lightly and yet amused "we don't die so easily unfortunately for you ... I'd end up feeling extremely bad."

Suddenly the argument between you lightens up without either of you really noticing. He feels it, almost palpable, the boulder in his chest becoming light at the sound of curiosity that colors your voice as you confirm that you understand: it is the same curiosity as when you ask him questions about his masks, the colors he uses or his tattoos, he clearly recognizes it, which has now almost become part of both of you.

"I have so much to ask you, Uta" you admit, smiling at him fondly "but for now, thank you for everything you've done."

His nonexistent brows go up, looking at you as if he's asking if you were serious. But you did, sure, he knew.

"Thanks to you for bringing me dinner downstairs."

Uta doesn't mince words, he never did, and it was something you loved. He was always contemptuous and edgy in his calm and delicacy of him, it was a humor all of him, no one could ever look like Uta.

He makes you laugh, despite the macabre implied, and he's happy. He feels lighter, freer, and this seems to apply to you too.

One of his laboriously painted hands moves towards your face. He doesn't even notice, it's a gesture dictated by instinct, from his heart. Only when he's about to touch your cheek does he freeze, dumbfounded as to what to do, wondering in his head what the hell he was doing, why he did it.

He fears to see you retract at his touch, fears to see you hide and still does not understand why he fears so much the rejection of a human, a human who should be food and who instead twists his stomach with just a look.

He tries to retreat first, before it's late, but your hands stop him.

His fingers are now squeezed between yours, tenderly, as you tenderly bring them to your face. The hand that presses on his back is warmer than his skin, but the one that squeezes his palm has frozen fingertips, he feels them pinch against his skin. In yet another gesture of care for you, his fingers close on yours, to warm them.

And while you hold him he holds you, you hold both of you, and he knows you don't know him, that you haven't seen the dark side of him yet nor does he know if he will ever have the courage to show it to you, but for now that's okay .

Now he's no longer alone in his charade with you. You are no longer his audience, you are the actor who responds to his sentences in front of that cruel world. But luckily now, behind the scenes, his mask is no longer needed.

"I promise I'll take you for a better coffee tomorrow."

"I accept with great pleasure."

#uta tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul x reader #uta x human reader #uta x reader #anime oneshot #oneshot #Tokyo ghoul oneshot

[hobiwonder]

mission impossible | (m)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut, crack.

Warnings: Oral, dirty talk, unprotected sex, overstimulation, slight degradation. dom/sub themes (jungkookie being a good boy and then... not so good lol)

Words: 9k+

Summary: When you find out that your groupmate is whoring it up on tinder instead of handing in his part of the project, you go on a mission to teach him a lesson. And maybe get him to finish his part.

A/N: hello!!!! thankyou all for waiting patiently. or maybe you’ve just forgotten about me lol. it’s been a while since i uploaded anything!!! I hope you enjoy this crack as much as I enjoyed writing fuckboy but still a movable baby!jungkook. please don't forget to tell me ur thoughts. feedback keeps me going :)

If it was something strange, it would happen to you. You were not just saying that because of the hint of narcissism in your personality that made you think that everything was about you. Oh no. You never seem to catch a break these days. And quite honestly, you should’ve expected your dose of absurd to be handed to you soon. It had been a week too long without any fatuous incidents and/or people happening to you. Was this just a y/n thing? Was every girl with your name cursed? Maybe it had something to do with your astrological sign. That always seemed to be the explanation of a lot of your friends who did not want to admit to their faults that would land them in hot water. The usual “oh it’s because i’m insert-star-sign”. 

Were you really becoming that girl? Though it was hard to blame yourself for this one. Currently staring at your phone. More specifically, the defined abdominals of your group mate. A group mate who has not shown up to a single meeting. After a whole day of slaving away at your study desk, deleting and rewriting your discussion and evidential analysis to conclude whether or not it was a plausible inference that the movies, Whiplash and Black Swan were excellent cinematic representations of the ‘Obsessed Performer.’ 

Yeah. That was a mouthful. And you bet your right ass cheek that you were the only one out of yourself and Jungkook who had even watched the said movies. In the group of four, Jungkook and yourself were given the discussion and conclusion to write. The three of you who had been present at the initial group meeting had chosen your parts as was decided in the group chat prior. When all of you had received a text from Jungkook cancelling last minute, you’d snagged the conclusion as well as half of the discussion to write as just the conclusion would be a little too easy. And you had wrongfully assumed that your peer had been in some sort of ‘emergency’ since he always sounded like he was in a hurry to do something incredibly important. 

You’d pitied the seemingly sweet looking boy and told him that you’ll work together on the last two sections of the paper. And his bastard self had always been all smile emojis and ‘yes :)’ and just all around misleading. Sounding like he was diligently working on his part by himself and definitely will turn everything into you by Thursday. Thursday was yesterday and you had not received even a single message from Jungkook about where he was in terms of progress on the 1000 words he needed to write. Message after message, you weren’t even being left on read. And in concern you had messaged your group chat that maybe he was facing some real life crisis to be so MIA. Until this.

Until you had picked up your phone about half an hour ago to mindlessly scroll through your instagram feed and then in the last 10 minutes had decided to also go on to tinder just to humour yourself. You were well aware that tinder was a cesspit of weird and unhinged men who would only be a good enough to make a youtube video about or a horror story texted to your best friend. You were speaking from experience. Decent men on tinder was like finding a luxury vintage dress in half good condition at a thrift store. 

So when you’d swiped left for the 30th time - you’d finally come across the perfect face of someone very familiar. You’d almost swiped left on reflex before you’d brought the phone almost too close to see why the face looked so recognisable. Even without having actually ever met Jungkook face to face - apart from that first lecture - it was hard to miss that this definitely was him. Your mouth had fallen open, jaw just shy of touching your soft bedsheets. You’d found Jeon Jungkook on tinder. His perfectly coy smile staring right at you, the first few buttons of his black shirt open wide to capture your attention back to his smooth, muscular chest. Hastily dialling Momo’s number, you can barely contain your shock and anger and annoyance. All of it wrapped up in one powerful burst of dialogue that you subject Momo’s ears too.

“Bitch!!!” You can’t help screeching, mind boggled.

“What happened now? Jungkook finally reply to you?”

“No oh my god. I found his tinder. I found his tinder Mo. I found his tinder!” You were screaming again but you couldn’t help it. 

You were missing a Jeon Jungkook to rightfully scream at so poor Mom was bearing the brunt of your anger and maniacal laughter because your brain was having a hard time believing your luck.

 “Wait, seriously? Did you match him?” Oh wait. Of course. There was still another step.

Wordlessly you swipe right, hard skipping a few beats in anticipation. And when the screen shows that he swiped you right as well and that you could now message him, you’re laughing once more.

“So he did. Wow. What a piece of shit.” She’s also laughing albiet much more like a normal human being.

“I cannot believe this Mo. This fuckhead doesn’t read any of my messages for the last week and I find him matched to me on tinder?”

Just then, your phone vibrates. Telling Mo to hold on, you don’t want to believe that this is actually happening. You had just received a message from Jungkook. It had barely been a whole minute of you matching up with him on this app and he had already messaged you.

Jungkook: What has 36 teeth and holds back the Incredible Hulk? My zipper.

This must be a bad dream. Were the cameras of Punk going to start showing up form under your bed? Were you being punked? Not only was Jeon Jungkook just the worst partner out of all the group projects you had been in, he was most definitely a fuckboy. Who used terrible pick-up lines. Did he really not recognise you? Granted that your pictures were not the ones you had put up on facebook - it was still quite discernible that this was definitely you.

“Mo, he just sent me a horny pick-up line oh my god. I’m going to lose my mind.”

“Of course he did. I always thought he was a bit of a player. What did he say?”

When you read out the message, both of you are coughing from the laughter. This was too ridiculous and just very much like something that would happen to you. You had a group project due in less than two days and your group mate had turned out to be a bit of a horny bastard that was more concerned with getting his dick wet than messaging you back.

“You need to message him back, y/n. Pour the cold water on him already and tell him how badly he fucked up.”

“No way! I bet you he’s going to never message me back. At least on tinder i’m going to get a reply. Just how the hell do I ask him about the paper that he should’ve emailed me, like, yesterday? Ugh.”

“Just message him back, firstly. Or lose the only communication you just got. Do you know what dorm he’s in?”

“No idea.” Typing your reply and deleting it - much like your assessment that you were working hard on. Unlike him.

You:  Hulk always was my favourite Avenger :)

“You did not just say that! Grossssss.” Yeah. Humouring fuckboys was exclusively for post 6 tequila shots Y/n.

Chuckling at your own response, you’re trying to keep your cool while trying to keep Jungkook’s attention so he doesn’t stop messaging you.

“Mo, wait. I just had an idea.”

“Please, y/n, violence is not the answer.”

“I won’t hurt him you knob. Okay talk to you later!” Not a lot anyway.

“I’m telling the police I don’t know you if they come around tomorrow! Bye!”

Making a face at your phone for good measure - you go ahead with your plan. There was no way you were letting Jeon Jungkook get away that easily. You’d been working so hard this semester. Harder than you have ever tried and you would not let his sloppy self to bring down your grade on an assessment that was worth 40% of your grade. Nearly half. Neither did the people in your group deserved it.

“Just you wait, Jeon. I’m going to kick your horny ass.”

Jungkook: let my Hulk destroy any traces of bad fucks you’ve had.

Your eyes are almost bulging out of your head at his brashness. Did he really just ask you to fuck? This is the second thing he has said to you and it’s him asking to fuck you. You can’t believe how much of a textbook fuckboy he was. When you haven’t responded for a few minutes, you get another message form him.

Jungkook: if that was too forward ^-^

Jungkook: then what i said was a lie lol.

Jungkook: I'm probably the best fuck you’ll ever have.

You cannot believe your eyes. With each message, Jungkook is either confusing you or making you shake your head at how exactly like all the other boys on tinder he is. This was hands down, the longest conversation you have had with Jungkook directly. In the group chat he generally adressed everyone, shooting haphazard apologies right before meetings. Saying he would not be able to make it. It had frustrated you to no end as the date for submission got closer and closer. And to see him reply quicker than you, on tinder no less, was beyond infuriating. 

You: Well then. Prove it.

You: Where do you live?

You doubted that Jungkook would be reluctant to give you his address. That’s just not something you see happening. Maybe he preferred to go to the girl’s place? That wouldn’t matter to you either. Though convincing him to bring his laptop with him would be a challenge but you were fine to let him work on your own. There was no way you were letting him go without coughing up his part.

Jungkook: you sure?

You: wanna fuck. Hurry up.

Jungkook: you’re so sexy :)

You were going to literally lose it. Not sure why you were biting the inside of your cheek so hard to stop yourself from laughing at his messages. Jungkook was the epitome of a snapchat fuckboy. It was much more hilarious than you anticipated. You were expecting to be feeling the singular emotion of sheer hostility. But you were having too much fun with this. Especially when you weren’t going to actually fuck him but seeing how eager and self-assured he was, this was all the more pleasant. 

Jungkook texts you his address and you let him know that you’ll be there in around 20 minutes. He lived surprisingly close. Though him staying in an all male rich residential college was definitely not a surprise. Only kids with a lot of disposable income and no worries of being evicted avoided doing any actual school work. The rest of you were not privy to such luxury. The more you thought about it the more you knew how gratifying it will be to show up at Jeon Jungkook’s door with a pile of notes and your laptop. He was in for a treat.

Dressing in that one little black dress you had was only part of the plan. An attempt to fool him one last time before you handed him the checklist of what he had to do. You shrug on a large jean jacket that fell below your bottom to conceal your provocative dress, grab your bag after stuffing all the necessities and then set out the door. Dialling Momo’s number, you let her know where you will be incase anything happens. You could never be too careful.

“Yo, I’m going to Cornell college. Jungkook apparently lives there so I’m going to meet him.”

“Are you serious? He told you his address?!”

“Sure did.”

“I pray for his soul.”

“He made me suffer far longer! Whose side are you on, traitor?!”

“Yours but knowing you, he’s in for a LOT. Okay stay safe.”

“Yeah yeah. He needs to be safe not me.”

“Yeah that was what I was saying. Anywhore. have fun.”

“Bye.”

The closer you get to the college, you are starting to hear loud music. Was this even allowed on colleges? Were there not any volume restrictions given what time it was and the fact that it was managed by onsite staff? Arriving on the level Jungkook told you his room was, 4th, the music is even more noticeable. The sign pointing to the common room was where most of the bass was coming from and you guess maybe there is a function going on. Though the closer you walk, you realise that this was not just any event. This was a party. The cracks in the door gave away to the activities happening inside the large hall. Deciding not to wait any longer, you text Jungkook again. Being as serious as you can be to get him to meet you outside instead of carrying your backpack with you inside.

You: I’m here to fuck, not party.

Jungkook: it’s a good party tho. We can slowly take it back to my room ;)

You: I’ll find someone else.

You hope he takes your bluff.

Jungkook: love it when you order me around baby.

Jungkook: don’t forget who’s in charge. Me.

You can’t help but roll your eyes, still smirking at your phone. No matter what your initial intentions were, you had to admit that playing with Jungkook was fun. He was unacceptably attractive and looked like the type of guy you would reduce to tears. But none of that tonight. You had to stay focused. You’re about to type another message to speed him up but he beats you to it. 

Jungkook: room is unlocked. go in. i’ll be there in a minute.

Letting out a whoosh of air you’d been holding, you head down the hall, further away from the heavy bass and the party music. Somewhat hesitantly, you open the door to the room number he gave you. Nothing out of the ordinary. His room wasn’t messy. It was tidy. No sign of books. Just a bunch of sketches and film negatives strewn about on his  study desk. Shamelessly, you snoop around, trying to find any evidence that he studies at all. So far, you’d only found an industry grade recording mic, two different types of cameras and some more unused camera reel. 

Getting out your notes and the checklist you were going to hand to Jungkook, you get everything ready for when Jungkook arrives. You were not going to let him get away with this. Just another minute later, you can hear the footsteps getting closer. And for a moment, so does your heartbeat. You were quite confident in yourself but there was always a chance that Jungkook was more than a harmless oversexed college boy. All of the very rational fears are thrown out the window, however, as soon as the black mop of hair comes into view. Jungkook was incredibly handsome. Even moreso than his pictures. His hair was longer than the last time you saw him months ago. The long strands of inky black hair fell endearingly in his face, just to the middle of his eyes, parted right in the middle and curling slightly. He wore a long sleeved shirt with hip-hugging jeans that almost made you drool visibly. The saliva was positively pooling in your mouth but you swallowed it quickly to avoid embarrassment. 

Now, you were angry. You really were. You needed this assessment finished so you could start on other projects and without Jungkook finishing up his part, there was no way you would have finished yours on time. But you would be a bold faced liar if you didn’t admit that you were oh so tempted to abandon your vendetta and not ride him like a bronco. You could tell that unfortunately, unlike other men who strutted about with empty words - Jungkook would be the best you would have in a while.

And when he smiles, it’s not any easier.

“Hey you.”

“Hi.” Desperately trying to keep your voice even, you smile coyly.

Jungkook locks the door, running a hand through his hair before he stalks towards you. Confident as ever. You bite your lip, baiting him even further before you strike. Just when he gets close enough to you, you hold out an arm to keep him from touching you.

“God, you’re even more sexy in person.”

“Uh-uh, be patient.” He’s blissfully unaware, just smirking in return as he watches your hands roam his chest before going up to his face. Taking a step closer to him, you rake your nails up his neck, leaving little white lines from the scratches. 

“Close your eyes, Jungkook.” Jungkook, ever the obedient boy, closes them quickly. Awaiting your next move.

You can’t help yourself when he looks like this. Completely immersed in the feel of your hands. He was a good few inches taller than you but your platformed sneakers made it easier for you to teach him a lesson. His dark eyelashes kissing the tops of his cheeks, face so relaxed you would think he’s sleeping. You deserved to play a little at least, right? Leaning forward, you stop with the internal rationalising and just make the move.

Your lips meet his in a fiery kiss. His stoic figure melting as soon as your lips lock, hands grabbing at your waist while his tongue grazes your bottom lip. Jungkook is moaning in the kiss like he’s taking his first gulp of water after roaming the desserts. Momentarily, you forget your purpose for even being here in the first place. Wrapping your hands in his tempting long tresses and pulling, making even more sweeter noises to spill past his lips. He’s panting and restless. Moving his body against yours like he’ll die without it. Moving him backwards, you push him agains his swivelling study chair that was conveniently faced the right way. 

His hands are all over you as soon as he’s down on the chair with your legs straddling his thighs on either side. All you can feel are his lips and his tongue and his hands. All over you, sliding your jacket off your shoulders to travel his kisses down another path. The desperate intake of oxygen is enough to bring your head back in the game, barely. With Jungkook nipping away at the now exposed skin of your shoulders and neck, it’s hard for you to stay focused. Especially when the hard tent in those sinfully tight jeans is now pushing against your softest part. He’s impossibly hard and you’re impossibly soft down there. It’s a lethal combination because neither of you can live without the other being pressed against each other. When you push down on him he pushes his hips up with even more ferocity, moaning louder with every illicit rub of the thickness between his thighs. 

You’re addicted to the feeling and not sure how you’ll centre yourself enough to do what you actually came to do. God was really making you eat your words, huh? You were so close to ripping all his clothes off and fucking his brains out. You bet he’ll make the prettiest sounds when you ride him. His whimpers and moans just from gyrating up against you were enough of an indication. Sliding your hands back up in his hair, you yank it back from your neck to see his sweaty, glistening face looking up at you. He looked slightly inebriated. You had tasted the traces of vodka in his kiss but you had a feeling that a lot of his current state had to do with you and not the liquor.

“Jungkook?” He shamelessly rut his hips against yours, not fully hearing you, lost in his own lusty haze.

“Yeah?” Your lips close around the soft cartilage of his earlobe, tugging and flicking with your tongue, illiciting more salacious noises out of him. 

“How’s the assignment coming along?” It takes him a few seconds to respond but the urgency with which he was pawing at you has slowed to a halt like a broken down car.

“Huh?” Pulling back completely, you stare him right in his twinkly eyes that look like a deer caught in the headlights.

“The paper you’re writing on modern cinema?”

“How... how do you know about that?” You smile at him sweetly. Before you flick him across his forehead.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“I should be saying that you harlot!”

“Harlot? really? You were all over me just now. You are all over me!” You’re surprised he knows the meaning of the medieval insult. 

“Don’t try and weasel out of this! I’ve been waiting for your finished part since yesterday!”

“Wait... you’re y/n, y/n?”

“Took you long enough.”

“With your tongue down my throat? I wonder why.” You cannot believe you are arguing with a boy whilst still in his lap with his hands holding on to your waist.

Jungkook is trying his hardest to deflect and make you seem like the desperate one when he had been the one to want to fuck you from the get go. Getting off his lap, you fix your dress, tugging it down a little since the assault from Jungkook had almost bared your ass. Jungkook is still sitting in his study chair, dumbfounded.

“Finish your part of the discussion Jungkook. I have to write the conclusion and submit the paper.”

He is still staring. And now your eyes are travelling down to his thighs. Particularly the large bulge a little further up. A very substantial bulge that makes your mouth water once more. 

“Jungkook!”

“Sorry, what? I just had a dream that a crazy girl tried to get me to do my homework right before we were going to fuck.”

“Listen here you little shit,” You grab Jungkook’s chin, gently despite his theatrical reactions, tilting it up to look you in the eyes. His reactions are so comical you almost laugh. “I’ve worked too hard for you to just give me piss poor, last minute effort. I’m here until you finish it.”

“You cannot be serious.” Letting go of his chin, you step back, folding your arms against your chest for good measure. Raising an eyebrow for him to challenge you.

“You expect me to write a thousand something words with this,” He points between his legs, you roll your eyes, “still here? No way.”

“I don’t remember giving you a choice, pretty boy.”

“You think I’m pretty?” So pretty. But he didn’t need to know that. You swivel his chair around back to face his desk.

“Less talk and more work!”

“Y/n, you can’t- can’t make me!” He’s throwing his hands around like a child and it’s a little too cute for an annoying boy like him who’s put you through so much anxiety. Sitting on his bed, swinging your legs as your eyes look around at the paintings, you let him huff and puff.

“Oh yeah? Guess I’ll have to call the cops because of the weed you have.”

His nose scrunches up adorably. “I don’t have any weed.”

“But I do. Who will they believe?” His eyes widen once more as he realises what you’re saying.

“Are you seriously blackmailing me?” You nod, smiling brightly. Jungkook turns back around, head in his hands as he mutters to himself how his tinder hookups are always crazy.

“Hey! I wouldn’t be here if you did your work! or replied to any of my messages.”

“Um, I was going too? I was busy.”

“Taking vodka shots? Yeah I could tell.” The mention of the kiss is bringing a rosy flush to Jungkook’s cheeks. Such an uncharacteristic reaction for a guy with his looks and his confidence.

He was that much more appealing to you because of how he contradicted his own personality. You knew he was one of those boys who acted all tough but secretly wanted to be bossed around. Told to do this and that. Made uncomfortable and maybe slightly humiliated. They lived to please. And the way Jungkook had melted into your body almost as if asking for guidance earlier, you knew he was exactly like that. He may not even know it yet but you could have him in the palm of your hands in a matter of minutes.

“What do I get in return?” He’s still grunting his disapproval, but looking through the notes you put on his desk anyway.

“A good grade and a life longer than 22?”

“You’re crazy.”

“All the more reason for you to be quiet and work!” He pouts at you before quietly looking through the notes and logging into his laptop.

When you’re satisfied he’s actually working, you lay down on his bed, making yourself comfortable knowing that it will take him at least an hour to finish his part. You had practically handed him all the points, he just had to write his own opinion and synthesise the evidence you had collected. The part of discussion required each student in the group’s own thoughts and thus you couldn’t just make them up on Jungkook’s behalf. Nor did you want to. You were done doing two people’s work back in your freshman year. These were advanced level classes and you weren’t going to ruin your grade because of one person.

Thirty minutes later, you’re almost about to doze off when you see Jungkook getting up from his chair in your periphery. Sitting up in a flash - though a little dizzy - you point an accusatory finger at Jungkook. Said boy has stopped mid-standing up.

“Don’t you dare Jeon! Get back in that chair and finish your work.”

“Jesus.” He’s holding his head in his hands once more before he starts whining again. “Y/n, please. Can’t I just do this tomorrow and send it to you then?”

You think about it. You do. “And have you go off the face of the planet again? No way.”

“Please.” He drags out the syllables, pouting and blinking up at you and it almost works.

“No. Not a chance. Just finish it ASAP and I’ll edit it. But finish writing it. The sooner you’re done the quicker I’ll be out of your hair.”

He glares at you. And not the scary, tough man glare that might make you slightly nervous and fidgety that you’re getting on his nerves. It’s a glare a kid gives you when you tell them no more TV or no more xbox. It’s the most adorable thing you’ve seen Jungkook do tonight. Or maybe you’re just sleep deprived. Either way, you wanted to kiss the hell out of him. But you turn your head away, faux annoyance ebbed into your features as you wait for him to start writing again.

It works for another half hour, Jungkook now actually typing more than he’s complaining. It was only a thousand words that he had to write but there was a lot of information that needed to be condensed in those thousand words which meant he was typing and then deleting, repeating the process again and again until he looked to be halfway through. You were impressed at how much he was getting done. Maybe it was your watchful gaze that was making him perform at his peak. You were now just hoping that whatever he wrote was actually plausible and not just rubbish to get you out of his room.

“I can’t believe you’re making me work with a boner. You could’ve at least gotten me off.” His pout his still there as he types casually.

“Stop being a brat and keep working.” 

“Yeah? You’re going to make me write lines? ‘I am a brat’.” He chuckles to himself like he’s burnt you to a crisp with that one comment. 

Taking your hand off of your face, you sit up. You watch the way his biceps bulge under his shirt as he types away at his laptop, legs splayed wide under his desk as he supported a semi. It was still a sizeable dent but nowhere near as daunting looking as before. But none of that diminishes your desire for him. You watch him talk to himself quietly as he types, but now stuck somewhere as he types and deletes and then types a sentence again. 

You’re not sure what sets it off. Maybe it’s your frustration or that you think he owes you something more than just this. Maybe it’s the way he’s sitting? There are a lot of reasons you can use to justify your serious and formidable attraction to him. But you cannot deny that it was him from the get go. Just him in all his submissive glory that made you attracted to him. And that attraction was now getting the best of you. Maybe it was time to torture him in another way.

“No. I’ll do something much more to your liking.”

His head turns back around fast, fingers halting at his keyboard while he inspects the drunken look in your eyes. Slowly, you spread your legs, hands bracing yourself as they clutch the sheets on either side of you. Your heart is racing at the look in his own eyes. Primal and needy. 

“Get on your knees Jungkook.” His chest is rising and falling much quicker than yours. Like he’s holding himself back.

You patiently wait for him to listen to your instructions, watching him. Never breaking eye contact. You know it’s new to him. It’s too obvious for you to deny it. But you relish the look of surprise every time you say something he doesn’t expect. Slowly, get’s up from his chair. Never taking a step further as he drops to his knees, crawling forwards until he’s right infant of you. The room is not that big at all so it doesn’t take him long. Now, his wide, doe eyes look at you. Inquisitive and aroused and it turns you on even more. He’s all man with hard ridges and bulging muscles but the way he’s looking at you right now makes you feel like at the centre of his world.

“Are... are you going to- to make me eat your pussy?” the explicit question sends your nerve endings on fire. 

You’re a second away from grabbing his hair and shoving him right between your legs but the way his soft mouth says the dirty words - it makes you feel a very different kind of way. Now it’s you who can’t stop staring at him. Thinking about what else he has up his sleeves. You expected him to be vocal but never this. He is bold and shy all at the same time.

“Would you like that, Jungkook?” His eyes drop between your legs again, watching the way your panties cling to your increasingly wet folds.

Jungkook is moving between your legs more, eagerly nodding so the strands of his fringe rustle up and down in his face. His arms are going under your thighs, gropping them for good measure before he looks up at you with those eyes again.

“Please.” He’s almost whispering, longing lacing his every word. “Please, y/n. Please let me taste you. ‘wanna taste you.”

His words have turned into pleas and the pleas turn into kisses alongside your inner thighs and then any place Jungkook can get his lips and tongue on. Everything else is forgotten. It’s just you laying on his bed while Jungkook tries to get a taste of you anyway he can. His lips travel up to your covered mound, never daring to move the piece of fabric holding him back from his destination. Opting to only kiss over it, lick his way up your clit through the thin cotton that’s now moulding to your swollen folds.

“Do- do you deserve it, Jungkook? For putting me through so much h-headache? Oh.” Your moans accompany almost every word. Fingers laced into Jungkook’s luscious hair as he continues his hurried tasting of your arousal. 

His response is mumbled between your legs. You watch his veiny hands repeatedly grab at the flesh of your thighs. Kneading it desperately like he’s trying to distract himself from doing something else entirely. A yelp leaves his mouth at your tug on his hair. Pale skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He looks like an addict when he is looking at you like you’re giving him his fix and God, you want to kiss his swollen lips.

“Answer me, brat. Do you deserve anything from me?” 

“N-No.”

“Right. Yet you’re still begging to taste me like the needy little slut you are. Hm?”

Jungkook is whimpering, his lids fluttering. He doesn’t expect the smack across his face, a little too hard for what you had originally aimed for. The surprise is evident and for a moment you’re worried he’s going to be upset. Instead, his breathing is picking up even further.

“Answer me when I speak to you.”

“Y-Yes... Noona.” The breath is almost sucked out of you at his timid tone. And it only makes you want to push him further.

“Good boy.” His eyes are lighting up at the praise like hundreds of little galaxies called them home.

Sliding down towards the edge of the bed, you let your legs hang off, letting your toes touch the floor. Jungkook is still on his knees, watching you manoeuvre yourself around his bed before you reach for the hem of your dress. Watching his every facial expression as you strip. He looks up at you wide-eyed, taking in your soaked underwear and the thin black bra where your nipples pointed right at him. You can see his hands twitch by his side. You’d pushed them off you when you’d changed your position and were surprised at how calm and obedient Jungkook was being. Contrast to how much of an argumentative brat he was. But you had a sneaking feeling that he liked it when you called him that.

You were trying to remain calm yourself. Not give too much away on the dilemma you held inside your head. Thinking if you should take this any further. Though it was a little too late now, you guess. You were practically naked, wetter than ever before as Jungkook watched you with his wide doe eyes. Hunger evident with every flit of his gaze. You would feel cruel if you stopped at this point. So you let the rational part of your brain take a backseat and letting the consequences of tonight berate you in the morning after. Sliding your palms down your stomach, straight inside your soaked panties, you stroke yourself ever so slowly. Holding his heated gaze with cloudy eyes.

“Noona...” It sends another jolt of arousal throughout your already overheated body. He’s biting his plump bottom lip, sliding his hand up and down carelessly on to his erection that had grown considerably in the past fifteen minutes. Jungkook looks like the embodiment of desperation and it makes you rub yourself a little faster. Every time your fingers come in contact with your sensitised clit, you bite the urge to buck your hips brazenly. 

“Yeah, baby? You want to see?” You hold out your wet fingers to him and in a flash, you feel his warm mouth around your digits. He moans loudly like he’s been relieved after years of drought.

“M-More. Please, Noona. I’ll do anything please, please.” Now that didn’t take long. Chuckling at his agonised face, you throw your head back, enjoying the relief your own fingers brought.

But you were torturing yourself too at this point. You wanted to replace your small fingers with Jungkook’s bigger and more vascular hands. You remember the view of his body from the glorified hookup app. Knew what he was hiding under the baggy shirt. The sweet whimpers and ‘please’ sounds coming from him were a delicacy on their own. 

“Take my panties off then. With your mouth. Don’t use your hands... or else.” Your tone is stern enough to give you that satisfying flash going through his eyes. 

In seconds, he’s leaning forward on his hands and knees, eyes never leaving yours as he bites the cotton on your hips, dragging it down. The act itself is a little clumsy. In his haste, Jungkook is taking twice as long should he use his hands. But something about his complete compliance, his willingness to be accepted by you and his utter devotion to pleasing you is the ultimately your undoing. This may be a power trip but you were thoroughly getting ruined during it. 

At last, the cotton has reached your ankles. Quickly, you shrug off your dress as well, completely naked. He’s placed small kisses in greetings before he takes them off completely. Out of breath and out of his mind. The glazed look has taken a permanent vacation in his eyes and you were getting high on it. Jungkook was a communicator. If it wasn’t his mouth relaying the naughty words to you then his eyes were holding yours hostage, smouldering.

Bracing your hands behind yourself and never breaking away from his eyes, your ankles part. Jungkook’s eyes are automatically falling on the mess between your legs but he doesn’t dare move. Awaiting your instructions. Jerking your chin towards his general direction, you silently bring his attention back to his overly dressed self.

“Lose the pants.” His hands make fast work of his jeans. Falling back on to the ground to push them off. 

“Uh-uh. Keep them on.” His eyes widen at your command to keep the underwear on. You weren’t about to just let him have it.

Not yet.

“Noona...” The high pitched noise of protest only makes your nostrils flare. You wanted to live out your every dirty fantasy with him if he sounded this sweet with just watching. The desire was making your head spin and your palms sweat. 

“Yeah?” 

“Please... I’ll do anything.” His eyes twinkle in the dim light as he kneels infant of you. 

“I’ll eat you out for hours, let you sit on me face until I can’t breathe. Let you ride my tongue until you can’t cum anymore. Just please... fuck me.” The last two words leave him in such agony that for a second it truly sounds like he’s in pain. 

Which is ridiculous given the ted talk he just gave on the Perfect Words To Say to Ruin Y/N and Her Panties. You’re the one currently in pain from clenching your jaw so tight. Resolve like a skinny rubber band about to snap. Dirty talk was the chink in your armour. And by the way Jungkook’s face lit up and his words became a lot more sure and confident, you knew that he was weaponising his skill to control you fully. And you needed to put him in his place before you gave up your pride and rode him until you ran out of stamina or died from your body overheating. Whichever happened first. 

“Get up.” 

“Fuck yes-“ Jungkook’s blubbering about how you’re the hottest person he’s ever seen and that he knows he can blow your mind while you push him back on the bed and straddle his meaty thighs. When he begins to push down your panties, you push his hands off and rest them on his sides. 

“Keep them there or you won’t be coming. Understood?”

His curls bounce around his face as he nods, chest heaving when he looks at your hips move over the biggest bulge you’ve felt under you. You would’ve thought that he’d stuffed his underwear with socks if you couldn’t feel the burning heat his cock was pressing in to you, even through his boxers. Each roll of your hips pressed him to your every crevice like two puzzle pieces fitting in to complete the picture. 

“Oh fuck-... You feel so good noona. I-I’m going to cum if you keep going.” He’s resorted to use his hands at his sides to push him upwards, pressing himself with every gyrate of your hips downward on him.

“Yeah? you’re gunna cum from just this? Is noona making you feel really good?” 

Jungkook is lost in soaking up every sensation like a drunkard.  Gaze not leaving where your hips met. Furrowing his eyebrows in deep concentration as he thrust his hips up, rocking you off balance slightly. Your hands slide into his sweaty curls, pulling them hard enough to yank his beautiful face up and close to your own.

“Answer me what I ask you a question.” And he whines. Or moans.   Nevertheless it’s a lethal mixture of the two and you’re about to kiss him senseless.

“Yes. I-I feel really good. Noona is- oh fuck- g-gunna make me cum.”

“And are you going to?” He looks up at you nervously, trying to speaking amidst every roll of your flaming core onto his dick. It was getting harder and harder for you to speak as well. 

“N-No?” 

“Good. Because only good boys get to cum. Not needy sluts like you.” 

Now Jungkook whimpers like a wounded animal. Because you’ve upped the ante. Holding onto his shoulders while you grind down on his throbbing cock just the right angle so your clit is receiving the mind-numbingly pleasurable stimulation. You were going to cum any minute and it looked as if he was too.

“F-Fuck. I’m going to cum Jungkook. Your cock feels so good.”

“Noona please. Please s-stop. I-I’m going to cum-“

“That’s not my fucking problem. If you want me to fuck you then you better not. Understood?”

He looks utterly panicked. Torn between letting himself go to the unbelievable pleasure of this act alone and wanting to hold back and obey your every command. Jungkook’s lip is bitten red, chest heaving and eyes watering as he watches the erotic sight of your brazen bouncing on his lap. You’re putting on a show just to make it that much more difficult for him to hold back. But he somehow does. Watching your face contort with pleasure as your head is thrown back. Your moans are loud and lewd. Designed just to rile him up to the point of breaking.

“Oh god. I’m- I’m gunna cum baby.” With a shout, you’re riding out wave after wave of the liquid pleasure running through your veins like molten gold. 

It takes a solid minute for your eyes to focus on a singular object. Or a person. More specifically, an incredibly handsome,  glistening, starry eyed, muscular, put-micheal-angelo’s-david-to-shame, strikingly adorable man. Jungkook looked on the verge of losing his sanity. Yet, he didn’t stop watching you collect yourself, flicking the stray strands over your shoulder before you pressed your mouth to his.

You brought your mouth to his and kissed him hungrily. When your lips met, you heard him make a tiny sound. His body went rigid, and he wasn’t reciprocating. You think it might have been down to shock, though, because when your tongue slid past the seam of his lips, he opened them willingly and trembled against you.

Your fingers dug into his thighs, and he pulls you closer. You were on fire, felt like you were melting into him. Never before had a single kiss gotten you so worked up. She tasted like chocolate and strawberries. Jungkook rocked forward, and then you felt his tongue move expertly against yours. Of its own accord, a groan emanated from deep in your chest. When he brought his hands to your neck and massaged your throat, you whimper. He was hard as a rock and you finally wanted to reward him for holding out this long.

He’s chasing your lips when you break away, sliding his kisses down your neck as if breaking the contact will be fatal for him. “You did so good baby. Such a good boy.”

The praise seems to rejuvenate his body. Not that he needed to.  He was bursting at the seems with testosterone. The longer he went on without a release, the more unhinged Jungkook seemed. The incongruence of his raw masculinity with his alarmingly meek behaviour towards you was something you didn’t understand but it affected you the most. He surprised you with every move and you wanted nothing more than to own him completely. 

Jungkook makes a noise in his throat at the praise, sliding his hands down to caress the globes of your ass. “I’ve been a good boy. Now fuck me.”

His words are steady, deliberate and to the point. Scratch everything you said about Jungkook being meek. They send shudders down your spine where his hands reside. This was a man who looked on the verge of tearing something apart. And judging from the current situation, he was going to be tearing you apart. You’d let him, gladly. But being the cocktease you are- you push him even more.

“And if I don’t, little boy? Gunna beg?” A heartbeat later, you’re the one on the soft mattress and it’s Jungkook that’s hovering over you.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Then I’ll fuck you noona.” 

You’re not too mad because you’re wetter than before and the change in his demeanour has you besides yourself with the need to feel him inside. Jungkook’s teeth are tugging on your hardened nipples. Circling them with his tongue before sucking the puffy buds tenderly. The pressure of his suction is so delicious that you might just cum from this. 

“God! Jungkook, b-baby please. Fuck your noona.” He grins around a nipple, hands sliding inside your soaked core.

“I don’t know. Maybe I should make you wait like you made me. Hm?”

“Don’t be a brat. I’ll stuff your mouth next time with a sock Jeon J- oh fuck!”

He’d slid down your body, his kissing every inch. Your stomach, your hip bones, your thighs.

“I’d rather it be your pussy.” He whispered, bringing his mouth to your wetness, and then licked.

“Ahhh,” you cried out, clutching a handful of his hair. Jungkook chuckled and went at you in earnest. You were so soft and silky beneath his tongue. He met your gaze from below and came up for air. Jungkook watched you for a second before dipping his wet mouth lower again. The noises of your arousal pornographic. He saw you fist the sheets in your hands, your hips rising up off the bed when he sucked your clit into his mouth and flicked it with his tongue. He added some fingers to the equation, savoring the hot, tight feel of you.

“Please,” you murmured. “More.”

So he gave you more. He gave you everything. Before he knew it, you were touching your breasts, pinching your nipples as he devoured you, and you swear you could have come from the sight of Jungkook between your legs alone. he was simply glorious. Your voice was starting to get hoarse. Getting close to the edge before Jungkook ripped his mouth away.

“No! Jungkook, please.” You’re frustrated and angry and horny that he would do that. Even if you did the same thing to him. 

He was testing you once again but the raw need in his eyes told you that you were testing him too. 

“I’ll fuck you now noona. Nice and good. You want this cock right?” He’s holding his straining erection heavily, sliding down his boxers to discard them besides his bed.

You moan out your answer, opening your legs wide in invitation.

“Just fuck me before I change my mind.”

“Yeah?” His tone is mocking. His eyes twinkling with a cheeky grin on his face. You almost get up to kiss him because he looked so fucking adorable and hot and sexy at the same time.

Thankfully - or not? - he’s pulling you to the edge of the bed and in seconds, he has pulled you close to his chest. He circles the engorged head of him in your slit before pushing in to the hilt in one thrust. The sheer girth of him has you yelping, needing to adjust to the length of him as well. But Jungkook doesn’t allow you the courtesy of that.

His legs are spread in a powerful stance as his hands grip your legs from behind the knees. And then he’s thrusting. He’s fucking into you so deep, you can feel him in your throat. You must look like a fish at this very moment with your mouth opening and closing without any real sound. He feels hot and thick, like molten lava in your veins. you’re finally finding your voice when angles his hips slightly to the left - biting a spot that has you blinking up at the ceiling full of stars. 

“Jungkook! Oh god. Oh f-fuck. You’re so good baby. S-So good.”

“Yeah? You like how deep I am in your pussy? Answer me noona.” He’s quickening his pace, snapping his hips punishingly making you release a guttural scream.

“I love it. So much.” 

You watch the sweat drip off his forehead, the dimples in his cheek now very prominent as his tongue peeks out the corner of his mouth. He’s a sight you want to imprint on the back of your eyelids. You can see his lose his resolve, the creases in his forehead slowly deepening as the pleasure becomes too much for him. 

“God you feel so wet and tight n-noona. You look so hot when you cum. I w-wanna make you squirt.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head at his admissions. It seems like he’s lost all his filter, chasing the mind numbing pleasure he felt earlier. His words are bringing you even closer to the edge and your throat now begs for relief when you  let out another yell as he pushes you up the bed while still fully seated inside you.

“I’m gunna cum noona. I j-just need to... to- I don’t. I don’t wanna h-hurt you-“ His sweet face is contorted with worry, still thrusting steadily. You finally understand his point after a few seconds. Taking you twice as long to comprehend anything with the plethora of feelings your body was feeling right now. 

Cupping his face, you told yours upwards to place a small kiss on his wet lips. “It’s okay baby. You won’t break me. Just let go.”

Jungkook’s eyes are glassy and he stares in yours for a moment too long because your heart is doing summersaults, heading straight for your mouth. Too much emotion crammed into his big eyes and you just wanted to strangely hug him close to your chest. This day has been strange enough - so you do. You Pull Jungkook close to you. His face tucks itself in the crevice of your neck, whining and moaning. His breath tickles and sends shivers down your spine. And then he circles his hips against yours. 

From the hard and deep fucking, Jungkook circles his hips into yours. Slowly at first, his pelvis rubbing against your clit in just the right way before he speeds up. His hands find their way down your back again, pushing your hips up into his own, making your centres feel everything. You can feel him in every fold of your core and it’s all too much.

“Oh god.” Your hands scratching down his back, head tilted back, legs closing around his waist tightly.

“That’s it noona. Cum for me. Please, please. ‘Wanna feel you around my cock. ‘Wanna feel y-your cunt devour me. Cum.”

You scream so loud that you can hear a ringing in your ears. Vision flashing white as the indescribable pleasure starts in the pit of your stomach and coarse through your limbs all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes. It’s all consuming and breathtaking. Unexpected.

“I-I can’t hold it anymore. Can I-“ You’re unable to speak.

Still reeling from your orgasm, twitching from the sensitivity, but you nod anyway. You wanted Jungkook to let go inside of you. Wanted to give him the same pleasure he gave you. He was incredibly ethereal atop you. You wanted to see him come undone. And Jungkook was too far gone to think twice before hitching one of your legs up, the other arm grabbing the headboard as he thrust up inside you once again.

“Fuck, yes. God, you’re so good you’re so good. I could fuck you forever noona.” 

His eyes are watering, tucking his face back into your neck again before he pistons his hips against yours rhythmically. The only sounds in the room being the tacky noise of skin slapping against skin, the obscene squelch from the steady arousal leaking between you both. You’re so delirious from the mix of pleasure and the deliciously addicting pain. AT some point, you’ve stopped screaming and only whimpers leave past your lips, legs falling lax around Jungkook and hands fisting the sheets.

“Cum Jungkook. P-Please baby. Cum for n-noona.”

“‘gunna cum. Am I good noona? your good boy?”

“You’re the best Jungkookie. Cum for your noona.”

“Fuck! Y/n, f-fuck.” He’s shouting something you can’t properly hear because of the ringing in your ears from your own release.  Filling you with his hot release. The intense pressure that had been building between you has snapped the frail rubber band in your stomach again. And seems like Jungkook’s had too.

Moments pass, both of you trying to suck in air like it’s the last supply available. Then, Jungkook’s flushed face appears in front of yours with his signature cheeky smirk. He’s glowing.

“You squirted.”

“Shut up!” Your ears must be the shade of a tomato now as you swat his back for the comment. He lays besides you, cuddling up to your side with his leg laying on top of yours. Clinging to you like a koala and it’s too damn adorable. Damn it. 

“It was hot. You’re amazing.” Your heart flutters a little too violently at that and you have to suck in another breathe, pulling the sheets off of him and completely bundling them on you.

“Hey!”

“Hm? You’re going to finish that assessment.” You grin innocently at him and try your hardest to not start howling with laughter when you can see his face fall almost in slow motion.

“Are you serious?” You just sent him a kiss before settling in his bed for maybe a 12 hour nap. Just a tiny nap.

“Noona!”

“I’ll give you head when you’re done. Be a good boy.”

With the most adorable pout you’ve ever seen on a grown man, you watch Jungkook pull up his boxers, stomping away to his study desk.

“Wake me up when you’re done Jungkookie.” Your sweet tone does little to get the pout off his face but he does smile the whole time he’s typing. 

Of course, not that he let you see that

a/n: liked it? hated it? let me know!!

#bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #hope u like it!!!

[mimisempai]

Your hugs tell me I’m home

Summary:

With Loki's first hug, Mobius discovered a new world. He knows that after experiencing Loki's embrace, no other will have the same price for him.

Or

Another way for me to explore the hug from episode 5

Notes:

18th day of my 30 Days of Domestic Fluff. - 18: Hugs List here : X

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33704500

946 words - Rating G

A hug.

Something almost completely foreign to Mobius, until this particular day.

A multitude of unknown sensations, until the first embrace given by Loki.

The moment did not lend itself to tenderness, nor to declarations of love, nor to sentimentality.

However, in one gesture, Loki had managed to communicate so much and had allowed Mobius to reciprocate so much.

Mobius had held out his hand and Loki had not only grasped it, he had taken Mobius in his arms, widening the touch.

And even though Loki had said, "Thank you my friend," the emotion and all that was left unsaid went far beyond friendship.

Loki, in offering this embrace, had allowed their whole beings, their souls to communicate much more than words could have transmitted in the urgency of the moment, in the uncertainty of the future.

From then on, hug had taken another meaning for Mobius who also knew that no other hug would have the same importance as those that Loki offered him without restriction.

Nothing was better for Mobius than Loki's arms wrapped around him, enclosing him in a closed space filled with heat. Probably one of the safest places in the world for Mobius.

No matter the time, no matter the place, and no matter the form, the embrace of Loki's arms had the power to stop the world for Mobius. Just like that day on the Void.

From the moment Loki had embraced him, it had been just him and Loki, Loki and him.

And even after many months, the sensations were still the same, even stronger, because they were nourished by the love they now shared.

From the beginning, what struck Mobius most about their relationship was this harmony, this reciprocity, this complementarity.

If Loki was often underlining all that Mobius had done for him, Mobius never failed to remind Loki that he had done the same. That he had changed many things in Mobius' life and among all that Loki had made better in Mobius' life there were the nights.

Because there was not a night when he did not fall asleep or wake up in the warm and loving embrace of his lover.

Before Loki, Mobius never stayed in bed longer than the time he needed to rest. It wasn't that he hated the night, it was just that before Loki, the night emphasized the fact that he was so lonely. So much so that he always left a light on.

Now he looked forward to the night ahead and made it last into the morning with the presence of the one who shared his life.

Loki had changed everything, even his nights.

Now Mobius loved the night as much as the day and this night, like the others, was no exception.

After a trip to the bathroom, Mobius pushed open the door to their room, smiling with anticipation.  His eyes fell on a familiar sight and lit up with the same gleam of joy as on the first day. He was home.

That's what the sight of Loki, dressed only in Mobius' t-shirt and boxers, told him, because he had decided that Mobius' night clothes were now his too, the wet hair from the shower he had just taken and above all the warmth and love that came from the beautiful green eyes.

They looked at each other for a few seconds in silence and then, as always, Loki pushed himself up a little and lifted the comforter, a sign for Mobius to join him.

Mobius slipped under the comforter and pressed himself against Loki, the fear of being too clingy long gone because Mobius knew that Loki loved to hug as much as Mobius loved to be hugged.

Reciprocity and complementarity.

Loki closed his arms around Mobius and gently kissed the back of his neck as Mobius let out a contented sigh and then whispered, "I'm home."

Loi must have heard him because he tightened his arms around him and replied, "Welcome home."

After a moment of silence, Mobius whispered softly, "Loki."

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

Loki turned Mobius in his arms and Mobius could see a radiant smile on his face as he replied, "I don't know the reason for this spontaneous declaration, but you know I love you too.

Mobius pressed a kiss to his chest and replied, "I don't need any particular reason, I just wanted to say it," then he buried his face in Loki's hair which smelled of shampoo and Loki's scent.

Then Mobius put his arms under and around Loki's waist and hugged him just as tightly. Like in their first embrace, like their relationship, full of reciprocity.

Sometimes Mobius must have fallen asleep because he was awakened by Loki's fingers running through his hair as he whispered, "Mobius, love."

Seeing that Mobius did not answer, Loki continued,"Turn over so we can actually fall asleep."

Mobius grunted because he was very comfortable the way he was, with his head against Loki's chest, but he also knew that in the long haul he had to comply with Loki's request.

So he turned around and put his back against Loki's chest again and Loki wrapped his arms around him once again.

Mobius moved his hand forward to turn off the light.

Despite the dark night, the feeling of loneliness had never returned, there was the regular lifting of Loki's chest on Mobius' back, the regular puffing of air on his neck, the hair that sometimes brushed his face, and especially the warmth of Loki's arms around him.

A warmth that told him, "You're home."

A warmth that told him, "You're not alone anymore."

A warmth that told him, "I love you."

______

30 Days of Domestic Fluff - Lokius

Next day : 19 - Forgetting Something

As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd and english is not my native language I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless🥰

#established relationship #30 day otp challenge #lokius fics #lokius #loki series #loki #mobius m. mobius #moki #wowki #domestic fluff #snuggle #Kissing #tight hugs #hugs

[everafterkeiji]

Song: Paper Rings by Taylor Swift

Summary: Hanamaki finally seals your fate by proposing to you- with a crappy ring that is.

Pairings: Takahiro Hanamaki x fem! reader

Word count: 6.9k

Genre: absolute fluff and crack, curse words

A/N: not me screaming when i had this idea, I've never felt more single in my life- brb bawling my eyes out- also let's pretend their in the same classes✋

Well, fate isn't something to be entirely trusted upon and neither should Hanamaki.

"Aw, shit."

He cusses when you bump into him, considering his incredibly tall figure, you were caught off guard on who you even crashed into. A small clink sound lands on the floor as you immediately face the boy who was looking at the ground, quite weirdly searching his pockets.

"Sorry- wait you're Hanamaki right?" You asked him, familiar with his hair color. You've seen him play countless of times due to the support of the school for each of their games yet you've never been this close with him. With his state, you immediately question what's got him so frantic.

He eyes the pen that was dead on the floor and he pouts before crouching down to reach it before he dusts off the dirt on it. He opens the cap of it before mindlessly writing on his hand and frowning even more when the ink didn't held its usual consistency- every stroke of a word had it loosing its pigment.

"Man, 'Kawas gonna kill me." He sighs before putting his hands and pen in his pocket as he looks at you surprised. How can he dismiss that he'd bump into you? He immediately bows in a way to apologize to you, completely forgetting that you were the one to hit him.

You knew he was pertaining to the well known setter but you were solely confused in what he was so worried about. Looking at the pen in his pocket, you saw how the ink was full but there were black spillage in the inside. You raise your eyebrow in confusion.

Did he just drop a new pen?

"I'm sorry I dropped your pen- I can let you borrow mine." You propose to him as he takes the pen in his hands admiring it like a wound in someone's arm. Seeing how you were scrambling in your bag to reach for your pencil case, his eyes sparkled at how it contained numerous pens, highlighters and mechanical pencils.

"Looking at the murder you caused, I'm simply asking for more than one pen then."

You tilt your head in curiosity but instead you opened your pencil case as he digs his hand in there picking three pens making you want to scoff at how he picked the gel pens that were your favorite. He looked at each one, writing on his palm if everything was working. He raises an eyebrow at you making you question if this was a fever dream because of how random it was- he acted like he was in a stationary section and it benefitted him that this particular section was free.

He then takes your hand causing you to internally yelp at his actions. Your eyes trail to what he was writing, you noticed it was his name instead. You look up at him as he smiled. Once he finishes writing, he extends his hand out while with the other hand held a pen ready for you to take.

"What's your name?" He asks processing on your features and asking himself why he's seen you dozens of times yet he's yet to get your name.

"Y/N." You say as he gestures for his hand as if telling you to write it. Somewhat following your instincts, you write your name on his hand. After it, he peeks the spelling of it and then casually shakes your hand as introduction.

"See you around, Y/N! You saved my ass with those pens so I guess I owe you one."

"Those are expensive."

"Now hold on there-"

That was how you met and the universe couldn't even joke about how they put you two together.

Now here you two are, invested in a stare off as Matsukawas sleepy eyes often switch his gaze between you and his best friend.

"Makki, it's in a week."

"I specifically remember it's the week after that."

"You two are hopeless." Issei comments making you laugh as Makki pouts at how you agreed with him. Nevertheless, Matsukawa leans his head on his arm ready to fall asleep at any moment. You return to arranging your notes while Makki twirls a pen in his hands while glancing at you once in a while.

Truth be told, it seems that fate still worked its way to the both of you. Ever since your-rather unique- encounter, a friendship was bound to happen. He surely made an impression on you and how could you miss to not be around him? Soon enough, you were also introduced to his teammates and you disliked how it strengthened your bond with him. There was comfort in his presence and to see him fool around with his teammates always radiated an amazing energy between you and him.

You also wanted to thank Oikawa for being somewhat the reason your conversation led to where you are now.

"What'd the pen do to make you this- scared?" You asked as he puts both hands behind his head, leaning on the seat.

"It's a scary pen when it belongs to Oikawa." You turn to him confused as you rest your chin on the palm of your hand, ears perking up at how interesting it was.

"You're telling me you don't own a single pen and you always borrow Oikawas?" He scoffs with a smile before looking at you.

"Of course I bring pens, it's just better if it was from him." You let out a loud laugh, finding it hard to believe this was the sole reason Oikawa would commit murder on him. Hanamaki smiles at the sound of your laugh before shaking his head, at awe at the situation.

It was a coincidence how Oikawa always found a way to strike a nerve to Hanamaki when you visit them in the gym. He knew that beyond his teammates calm composure was a boy who undoubtedly likes you. Ever since Hanamaki returned the pen to him, he knew it wasn't his and in his mind, he asked himself who could've lent him a pen, more so that he had three brand new ones.

So when he sees you tagging beside him, he's taken his first lead to figure the two of you out. After a few more observations, he's convinced that you two were just blind to the feelings that were lingering around.

He's told Iwaizumi about it but all he got was a lecture on how he should let Hanamaki take it easy with asking you out. Which he also argued since it was taking too long, making Iwaizumi land him a smack to the head.

He had his boundaries, maybe not for himself, but for his friends he was more than willing to wait for this relationship to come together.

-

"So- a date? That's cool right? I mean arcades and shit."

"Makki, you're a loser."

"Arcades are awesome shut up."

"Yeah, for sure. Like Y/N is interested in 'arcades and shit'." Mattsun chuckles as Hanamaki lets out another pout as he sinks in his bed.

"I mean- we've gone on hang outs, she likes them anyway!" He argues making Mattsun shake his head with an amused smirk on his lips.

"So you're telling me you've actually had dates with her then?" Issei asks as Hanamaki shrugs making the other boy groan at the lack of response. Hanamaki raises his head, pursing his lips at the actual thought.

You have actually gone on multiple dates with him. If you could even call it that. To Makki, he thought they were just subtle friendly things but he realizes how he's actually grown some fondness in each place.

"Y/N no I'm telling you- if I were the mastermind, we'd be successful." He argues before taking a sip from his drink. You rolled your eyes as you let your mind ran through the scenarios of having a heist with him and the boys.

You two just finished a heist movie and now you had to endure Makkis fantasies of how it would go down if the characters were him and the rest of the volleyball team. He was so invested in it that you actually had an entire plot and characterization for each teammate.

He argued that he'd be the best mastermind to ever conjure a plan for a heist. A stealthy ninja is what he says he mimics. You tried to argue that Iwaizumi would be good at it, since you noticed how responsible and at control he was but it had Hanamaki listing his reasons.

"No one would ever notice me! Because you know what- their attention would be on Oikawa! Then boom, get in the getaway car with a shit ton of money and thanks to who? Me of course." You let out a laugh making him stop his occupied thoughts to take a look at you. He adores the sound of it too much, especially since he was the usual cause of it. He sees the way you were wiping your eyes with the scenarios he'd told you.

Then your laughter slowly fades when you started to eat again as Makki admires you and how you've effortlessly got his mind to set more dates just to see you this happy.

You look up from your previous position, looking at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Wait, where am I in the heist then?"

He looks at you, almost blurting out the initial idea he had for you in this specific role.

Honestly, I'd spend the money on you. Take you anywhere you wanted to go, Y/N.

That was what he wanted to say but his mouth translated it to a different saying.

"You could die-"

"Makki!" You shouted playfully, ruffling his hair. He laughs but unknowingly, his hand lands on top of yours when you sat back down.

"Excuse you, I can be a good distraction and assistance for action." You commented making him scoff.

"Yeah like you'd be able to hold a gun for a second."

"Please, I had Oikawa beg me to delete a photo of him."

"Okay maybe you are powerful."

You laughed once again, not even feeling how right it was for you to be holding hands like this. It felt comforting yet it brought your heart to speed up like it was in a marathon. You wondered if Makki felt the same, or was this another act of friendliness?

"I wouldn't want you to get hurt though." He whispers, making you smile and blush at the same time. As if it was another point on the score board for how many times he's had your heart go on a frenzy.

"Well, that's what the great mastermind is for right? To keep us safe and succeed?" You say, making him give a gentle squeeze to your hand, as you glanced down on them enjoying the way it looked.

As if I'm gonna let anyone lay a hand on you, Y/N. You're safe with me always.

After a few sly times where he'd hold your hand while you crossed the street or even tugging on your jacket when passing through a huge crowd so he doesn't lose you, he's realized he would absolutely drop the stars for you. He doesn't know whether he should feel terrified because of how he could put your friendship at risk but then he feels- almost relieved that the first person he could ever love is you.

It shouldn't even be difficult to ask you to hang out. You'd usually respond a second after he asks you, it's not even that big of a deal.

Now it's different.

He's finally gotten a clutch on his feelings and he thinks about his next moves. He often just let things happen, loving the way the moments just flowed naturally and perfect in some way but now he's choosing his words since he didn't plan on confessing in such a dorky way- especially when he just says it out loud without proper practice.

"Why don't you ask Oikawa for help then?" Issei suggests making the boy shake his head at the thought already.

"Do you know how much blackmail that idea comes with? He'll never live it down." Hanamaki says as he scrolled through his phone, almost frowning at the thought of humiliation coming from their captain.

"C'mon! He knows a lot of shit about flirting and dates! Maybe even help you in confessing, idiot."

He thinks about that deeply. Each member of the team would have completely diverse answers. As of the mean time, the only proper suggestions he'd get is from Iwaizumi, Oikawa and Mattsun. Though Mattsun has given him plenty of advices, he knew Oikawa was at the top for someone's idea of romance. The man has fangirls, he's obviously heard and experienced many hopeless romantic scenes in his life.

Iwaizumi would've actually been a lot of help knowing the guy is very good at maintaining control and responsibility. He'd give the proper date ideas, the mood to set. He looked like the perfect blueprint for Hanamaki to copy. He also believed that Iwaizumi would think nothing of these advices so it's a win-win if you ask him.

"Right, okay. I got this."

-

"Why me though?" Iwaizumi asks as Hanamaki spikes another ball.

"Look Iwa- I genuinely trust your judgment more. I just need help." Iwaizumi chuckles before collecting another ball.

"Fine fine. Just meet me after practice."

Hanamaki cheers when he hears him, even smiling now that he can figure out a way to show you how much he likes you.

Sure, he's doing it unintentionally sometimes. Tiny signs that should show you how he is absolutely in love with you. He'd show this in various ways as well. It comes as an instinct in some way. He'd hit you with a "let's have lunch" and you'd gladly accept. Mattsun has pointed out that Makki has already made a move on you countless of times but it had Makki questioning the depths of being friendly and going through courting you.

You haven't even made things official yet these so-called dates had your classmates wondering how your relationship started, even if it hasn't. Makki would always lean his head on your shoulder during lunch, to rest his brain from the lessons. For you, it's nothing. Makki has always been like this after you got comfortable with each other. This affectionate side of him even had Mattsun wonder why on Earth would he ask for help when he clearly doesn't need it.

The three of you are now seated in a lecture, boredom crossing your minds but Mattsun's mind was rattled by Hanamaki. After their conversation about asking help from Oikawa, he thought that Makki would actually go through the plan. Looking back on his motives with you, he just doesn't see a reason why he needs assistance from the setter. He can handle this all on his own, so scribbling down on a piece of paper, he throws it to Hanamaki who awakens by the action.

Hanamaki yawns as he opens the crumpled paper, his eyes widening and cheeks heating at the group of words.

'You can literally just confess to her now, even without shittykawa.'

He glares at Mattsun while the other boy shrugs with an expression that says "seriously, it's not that deep." He huffs before grabbing a pen and replying to his previous statement, then throwing it again.

'Try confessing to the girl you like during a lecture, Sherlock.'

Mattsun chuckles as Makki crosses his arms in front of his chest. His eyes land on you, who is fixated on the lecture. He smiles softly at the idea of a date with you, but this faint moment was ruined when Mattsun directly throws the ball of paper to Hanamakis face, earning a chuckle from some of his classmates.

He opens with eyebrows furrowed, annoyed at the shot.

'Not now dumbass, after classes. Just go up to her and say you like her, it's that easy dude.'

Hanamaki turns to him mocking his words while Mattsun rolls his eyes as Makki writes again. As he was about to throw the paper in Mattsuns direction, a student raised their hand hitting the paper and it suddenly landed on the floor beside you instead. The boys had their eyes widen as you saw the paper.

In a flash, Hanamaki picks up the piece of paper before you could grab a hold of it and you let out a gasp when he suddenly appeared in front of you. You blinked at him as he slowly walked away, wide eyed, to avoid conflict with the teacher.

You and Mattsun share a look together as you looked away, utterly speechless at what just happened. When you looked away, Mattsun hides his laughter by stuffing his face in his arm as Makkis cheeks never grew out of its red shade.

Meanwhile, Mattsun finally held a memory that he can never forget.

-

"It's not a big deal. You guys have been friends for so long. I don't think Y/N would mind." Iwaizumi comments making Hanamaki silent.

Can you really feel the same way?

A year of knowing you- should that be enough to fall in this deep? Is there even a requirement before someone can confess? Because in a span of time knowing you, there wasn't a moment where he regretted anything. He could thank the universe for one stupid pen, maybe even Oikawa. Everything that led to where you are now, he's never been more contented in his life.

During movies, your favorite spot was to lean your head on his shoulder. To just sling your arm around his waist on the way home, holding his hand while walking through crowds, it just fits. No matter where you were, what you were doing with him, it seemed like there wasn't an extra space in the puzzle pieces, it all connected.

But you two couldn't figure it out for yourselves.

"Well, does every confession need some sort of grand gesture?" He asks Iwaizumi. The ace bites his lips before kicking a rock on the path he was walking on.

"I don't really know. What does Y/N like anyway?"

"Hopefully me." Hanamaki jokes, but he deeply wanted it to be real. He figures if all of this asking for help was going to guarantee him something good, better yet, a yes from your lips. But first, he had to answer Iwaizumis question.

"She likes simple things- you know how she likes it when I like hold her stuff and all? She also likes those weird food thingys at one date-or hang out we had- you know that scent that reminds you of a romance movie-"

"Makki, you know her this well and you're nervous for nothing. I'm sure that she'll love whatever you do- you're friends for a reason." Iwaizumi says making Hanamaki sigh, hearing those words again.

"Exactly! That's the problem. Fuck- I can't even act like I don't like her. Am I being too obvious or friendly? I don't know where the line ends or starts. I shouldn't get nervous cause it's her- she doesn't care what I do- she's happy with whatever but I just want it to be.. perfect." He rants and ends it with a tired sigh. God, he was getting frustrated. At this point his feelings were overwhelming him, he just needed an outlet for it.

He can't just act like the sight of your smile doesn't make him smile as well, or even just seeing your sleepy state when you walk into class. If his heart didn't flutter whenever you were around, maybe by then you couldn't call it admiration but he just fell and there wasn't a way to stop him.

He didn't wanna stop either.

-

"Mattsun." You say as Mattsun lets out another laugh as you roll your eyes. It was after practice and since Takahiro couldn't walk you home because he told you he had to talk to Iwaizumi about something, Issei was the one to walk you home.

"This is gold." He states making you shove him a bit. He smiles when he sees you pout. This is where he decides. He could literally say how Hanamaki was asking him for advices like you are right now, but a side of him just wants to see what Makki could do. It was all too funny for him, even if hated how oblivious you two were.

If Hanamaki was falling for you with each day, you did the same. It was inescapable. You met him during second year and the fact that he had you tugging on your heart strings, it was something you can't ignore.

"What exactly are you doing?"

"I'm studying, 'Hiro. What's up?" You asked him as he raised an eyebrow at you. You stopped writing to look at him fully.

"We're at a mall." He states like you didn't know. It was bizarre to go to a mall cafe and your purpose was to study when you were with the spontaneous Hanamaki. That's on you for getting distracted on your strict teachers subject.

"Yes, Makki. I know that." He lets out a pft then takes the notebook of yours, closing it. Even putting on the caps of your pens and placing them back in your pen pouch. He also grabs your bag and placing all of those items inside.

You didn't stop him though. You've had enough with 'studying either way'. You'd die if saw how you weren't even taking notes, you were actually writing about how beautiful his eyes were. You were just purely lucky that he didn't care what you were writing because he thought it was about school.

"Happy now?" You asked him as he nods with a childish grin.

"Super. Let's go, cutie." Your eyes widened with his statement so you turn your head away to sling the backpack on your shoulder but he stops you before you could.

He removes his hoodie and hands it to you, making you stare at him.

"What for?"

"It's hot- well duh it's cold, Y/N. C'mon I wanna go to cinema. " He says nonchalantly as you take the hoodie and wear it. What causes you to stop midway was when he pulled down your blouse to prevent it from rising up when you wore his jacket. After placing your arms in, you blushed at minimal gesture.

It made Hanamaki let out a cough, when he did it like a reflex, not even thinking about it.

"Cutie huh?" You teased making him roll his eyes, though he was thankful that you broke the silence.

"Yeah no shut it."

There were many more memories that could list out why you liked him but maybe they just held the same reason.

"Leave him a note then if you can't say it in person." Mattsun suggests, even though he wishes he could've said something else. He doesn't know if that was a good suggestion or not. This could ruin whatever Makki was planning on doing. He should ask him about his plan later on so he can tell you what not to do in order for his best friend to succeed.

You reached the front of your house as you gave Issei a hug, to thank him. He pats your hair as your pull away from him.

"Hey, you've got this. It's you and Makki." He says smiling, assuring you. You nod at him as you sent a wave, him doing the same then walking away.

When you entered your room, your phone rang. Seeing Makkis name light up your room had you answering it in a heartbeat.

"Makki, what's up?"

"Hey, I just called to say I'm sorry I couldn't walk you home today. " He says running his fingers through his hair. He did want to walk with you but he trusted Mattsun. He couldn't waste the time Iwaizumi gave him for advice.

"It's fine, 'Hiro. Mattsun and I are fine." He smiles at what you said, while you left your phone on the nightstand you decided to change out of your uniform. While Makki decides on what to say next.

"Hey Y/N?" He calls for you, once you were done dressing up, you took the phone lying down on your bed.

"Yeah?"

"Wanna go out, for real this time?"

"I'm gonna go sleep." He says, biting his tongue, despising how he couldn't say it. He hears you yawn on the other end of the line.

"That's a lie but night Makki Makki!" You said chuckling as his ears turned red at the nickname. He shakes his head with a smile.

"Goodnight, dumbie."

"Hey! I called you a decent nickname."

"Wow okay then. Goodnight, princess."

Hold up, he said what?

I said that?

He quickly ends the call before you could let out a comment on what he just said. A wave of panic rushes to him not knowing your reaction. You covered your face with the pillows the surrounded you, letting out a frustrated scream.

Fuck.

-

The morning comes and Hanamakis heart was racing like he going to attend a deadly match but in reality he was just going to confess. He's set all the things that he needed for today, mostly the materials but he himself wasn't nearly as ready.

He's going to wear a uniform. How the fuck do you make that look presentable and polished? Should he wear a new hoodie for you to wear afterwards? Just- how?

He's been staring at himself for too long then he hears his parents call for him saying that Mattsukawa was at his front porch. He sighs before grabbing his bag and heading out of his room.

"So you ready?" Issei asks as Hanamaki shrugs. He wanted it to end right away but then again he wants things to slow down while he sees your reaction when does it.

"Fuck no. Iwaizumi helped me with a few things, he said something about gifts so I searched for some." Mattsukawa nods, as he thinks about what you were up to. Can it actually happen now? The two idiots would finally have the guts to confess on the same day?

"Honestly, this will be very entertaining. What time?"

"I was thinking kind of like after school." He says making Mattsukawa agree with him. It benefits the both of you. Never in a rush to admit, it could also give Makki some time to accomplish some of his plans.

"Do you think it'll go ok?" Hanamaki asks, almost nervous for his answer. Mattsukawa only smiles, knowing the possible ending.

"Yeah."

-

Betrayer. Oikawa thinks.

He lets out a pout of annoyance and when he spots you, he immediately walks over to you before Hanamaki could.

"Morning Oikawa! Have you seen-"

"Y/N-chan! I'll walk you to class today!" He says sweetly making you question in what was going on. He sees you peer your head over his shoulder, looking for Hanamaki which made him scoot a bit so your vision was blocked. Realizing that Hanamaki probably hasn't arrived yet, you shrugged.

"Okay, Tooru."

As Oikawa slings his arm around your shoulder, he could feel Takahiros stare as he walked with you. Even Iwaizumi had to double take on what he just saw.

"What's with him?" Hanamaki asks, feeling a slight burn in his heart when he sees you laughing with the pretty setter.

"I don't know, maybe he's just bugging her." Iwaizumi comments, making Makki roll his eyes. Mattsun takes notice of his behavior and lets out a chuckle.

"Aww, seriously. It's Oikawa! He's not going to steal your girl." Hanamaki blushes at his words and the boys eye his reaction, making them laugh at the change. Makki rolls his eyes before letting out a sigh, an act as if to reassure himself that things would go according to plan.

When Makki enters the room and meets your eyes, you already flash him a smile gesturing for him to seat with them. Oikawa sends a glare in his way making Mattsun lazily raise an eyebrow to the setter. Oikawa turns his attention to you once again, his chin on his palm as he stares at you.

"You're so pretty Y/N-chan! Wouldn't want that to go to waste do we?" Your ears couldn't really believe what you just heard. A sea of gasps echoed through the room when the compliment left Oikawas mouth. Murmurs of how luck you were started to spread and Makki was stood frozen.

"Flirting with my best friend isn't cute, shittykawa." Hanamaki comments, a distinct tone in his voice that didn't sound all too jokingly. The word best friend rings in your head as you actually felt a strike to your heart with his words.

How can you confess like this when you're down to rejection?

You felt like Hanamaki gave you a wake up call. Is this really the farthest you could go? Just friends? You let out a sigh, suddenly throwing away your previous plans of admitting your feelings for him. You gripped the pen in your hand as you tried not to be controlled by the pain.

Mattsukawa sees how your hand was trembling, replaying what Makki said, he nudges the boy next to him who was busy giving a cold shoulder to Oikawa. Mattsukawa prays that Hanamaki realizes what he just said.

Hanamaki feels the harsh nudge of his best friend making him look your way, a downcast evident in your features. Before he could ask you what's got you upset, the teacher walks in making Oikawa and Iwaizumi leave. Oikawa passes by Hanamaki making the tension even more noticeable.

Mattsukawa grips Hanamakis arm, to stop his mouth from sending a snarky comment and to hold him back from a glare. Hanamaki sits in his usual place as he ponders on what's gotten you this down. Was it Oikawa? What did he tell you? Could it be something that included him?

He sincerely hopes it doesn't involve him or else his hearts going to keep aching with jealousy.

-

What the fuck?

That was the only question that lingered in Hanamakis head.

Throughout the day, he figured that he'd be able to avoid you without you knowing what he was doing but instead, he found himself getting distracted in the fact that you sat with Oikawa between breaks. He couldn't even focus where to put the gifts in, he's totally forgotten about his locker and the possibility of you finding about it makes him panic.

He just hated how he feels the envy consume him. It took him a while to not give in to it. He had to continue, if he didn't- he would cower away. He wasn't going to waste another chance because of Oikawa, he can promise you that.

"You think Oikawa knew something? Maybe he's actually stalling you." Mattsukawa suggests, to remind Hanamaki that he was sure the setter isn't a barrier to his plans.

"He said something to her- I just know it. She's distant with me." He says tiredly, Iwaizumi leans on his arm to whisper to Hanamaki.

"Maybe he figured out you were going to confess." Iwaizumi says shrugging, Hanamaki shakes his head.

Are you turning him down then if this was real?

A way to softly push him away and tell him that your friendship mattered more?

If this was the case, he's leading his heart to a trap.

And it went like this until Makki had to confront Oikawa, sick of the change in you. It was practice time so he had the setter to himself. He knew you were waiting for him so he decided to take matters into his own hands.

He just wanted to be yours already.

"Oikawa, what did you tell her?" He asks quietly. Even if his heart held its beat because of jealousy, he's sure that the boy he was talking to had no interest in you the same way he has. Oikawa has never shown you signs of love or any affection at all. Sure, it was fun to be around him but he looked at you as a friend, a company he can find comfort in but who's to say Makki doesn't feel nervous?

"I didn't tell her anything what are you talking about?" The boy answers making Makki sigh.

"She's avoiding me. It doesn't make sense then." Oikawa raises an eyebrow at Takahiros expression. He looked so- distraught. It starts to sink in him how the lack of your presence takes a toll on his friend and there was the tiny ounce of regret that hits his mind.

When he sees Hanamaki open his locker to reveal a boquet of flowers, his eyes widen. He then closes them immediately, cursing himself for the misunderstanding.

"Isn't that what you were supposed to give Aika?" He asks, his throat dwelling with nervousness. Hanamaki furrows his eyebrows, evidently confused in how their classmate who he is even close to, got dragged into the situation.

"What-"

"Shit."

"Oikawa!"

-

I hate running.

He says to himself whie doing it, he's never ran this fast before. God, now everything was at rush. He had to pack his things immediately, make sure the sweat didn't cling to him like it did. He even had to rummage through his locker to make sure everything was inside his bag. Mattsukawa was also frantic. Iwaizumi was calm enough to knock some sense into Oikawa after Hanamaki tells the news on what exactly happened.

So here he was running to your neighborhood, flowers and all because he'd be dumb enough to be the guy in Oikawas misunderstood scenario.

"Oikawa!"

"Wait okay fuck I'm sorry- I might have heard something wrong earlier." He says, a hand to the back of his neck. Hanamaki isn't sure if he should feel relieved that Oikawa doesn't have any admiration towards or feel the fucking rage to strangle him for whatever led to this.

"What exactly did you hear anyway?"

"I can't just give the flowers to Aika. I can't act like an admirer of hers, I have to confess to her myself." Hanamaki says sighing as Iwaizumi and Mattsukawa nods.

Oikawa turns his back on the trio as he frowns at the idea of you and Hanamaki not being a couple. It seems that his friendly gestures didn't actually hold anything else, he'd fallen for Aika instead. Though he feels slightly pissed that Hanamaki led you on in some sort of way.

Once he sees you, he immediately goes your way in order for you to not witness the heartbreak that was about to unfold.

"Oikawa, I was planning to confess to Y/N. Mattsukawa suggested that I try to give her the flowers anonymously at first by letting Aika bring it to her but like I said, I didn't wanna look like an unknown loser." Hanamaki lets out a puff of annoyance as Oikawa rests his hand on the boys shoulder, now that tiny ounce of guilt grew and grew.

"I'm really really sorry, Makki." He says sincerely, Hanamaki sighs before nodding at Oikaws, accepting his apology knowing Iwaizumi could lecture the boy after his slip up.

"I need to go to Y/N now." He says but Kindaichi looks at his teammate with a water bottle in hand.

"Y/N-san left hours ago." He says as Hanamaki sends a glare towards Oikawa then he looks at Kunimi just to confirm Kindaichis statement. Kunimi nods before returning back to his unbothered state. Hanamaki lets out a scream of frustration as he dashes towards Mattsukawa and Iwaizumi, Oikawa being dragged along by his shirt.

"Oi, did you two fight?"

"Long-story short he thought I was giving the flowers to Aika. Now please, lecture the damn asshole- I need to find Y/N." He basically hands Oikawa to Iwaizumi who already landed a ball to the captains head as he runs off to his locker to leave immediately.

He could never adore someone else when you remained to stay at the top of his list- since no other name follows it.

He pats down his sweat with a towel before drinking water then spraying his cologne all around him. He was in front of your room door since your parents gladly invited him in while he mentions to be quiet at the sight of the boquet of flowers in hand and now it's finally happening. He was either going to face a prize or a bucket of tears.

Here goes nothing then.

He knocks on the door as you continued to scroll through your phone but you spoke, "It's open!"

He opens it softly, before stepping in your room, closing the door in the process. You look up from your phone only to get the life knocked out of you when you see Hanamaki.

"Hey Makki-"

"Y/N please I just need to tell you something okay."

He takes the vacant spot next to you on your bed as both your hearts pounded loudly with each second. Your mind couldn't stop racing at what he was going to say if it was just flat out rejection, meanwhile Hanamaki doubts what he bought you. He carefully takes your hand with his, caressing it gently while your cheeks were heating at the moment.

"Y/N I-"

You roll your eyes before ending the call, not even caring to know who called. Meanwhile, Makki wanted to stop himself from coughing from the embarrassment.

The phone rings. Oh, fuck me.

"Go on- really sorry." You say with a slight chuckle, as he smiles, thankful you read the room at how nervous he was. Instead, he went to his bag to find a certain box. Once he finds the blue box, he takes your palm and places the object on it.

You smiled at him you opened the box, praying that you don't let out a squeal when you see what's inside.

"Paper rings?" You say chuckling as Hanamakis eyes widen, threatened to pop out of his sockets since he was in full disbelief. You laughed as Hanamaki tried to get the back from you but you ran from your bed to wear the damn thing.

"Y/N!" He yells trying to reach the box from your hands but your laughter echoes through the room.

You're too fucking cute for me. You think to yourself.

"It's a perfect fit on me, Takahiro." You say even holding out your hand with the paper ring as Hanamaki hides his face on a pillow, an attempt to hide the humiliation. He can never bounce back from this. Where was the actual matching rings that he bought? The one with yours and his initials were embedded on? Did he leave it on his desk when he was trying to figure out your ring size? He was truly fucked.

When you tried to reach for him, the ring broke since it was surrounded by tape and it didn't really held strength to it. Realizing that it was folded paper, you opened it seeing scribbles and doodles from Makki.

Y/N's ring size is 6 maybe 7?

Get the flowers that Iwaizumi suggested. Which flower was it again? The ones that symbols love? Fuck it.

Does she prefer me with this perfume or not?

She smells amazing all the time, I hate it.

God, I like her too much it's unbelievable.

I feel like I'm proposing to her but I'm not complaining.

You immediately drop the paper to look at him, switching your gaze between him and the paper. You hid your face in your hands as you wondered if this was actually reality. Hanamaki likes you back? Proposing? It was overwhelmingly cute.

Hanamaki lifts his head from the pillow and he sees you looking like you were embarrassed for him. He immediately goes to you, hands on yours as he tries to lift them off your face.

"Do you want me to kiss it better?" He teases, hopefully it was able to grab your attention, and it did. You slap his chest from how flustered you were as he laughs before taking you in his arms, playing with your hair as your mind goes blank.

"Okay maybe the secret is out but I'm serious, Y/N. I like you- so fucking much it makes me wanna buy all the shit you want if we succeed in a heist- and I never wanna stop feeling this. The ring is crappy but I've got the actual one in my room so" He pulls away from your embrace as he lifts your chin to meet with his face who was intoxicatingly close.

"Do you accept my proposal of being my girlfriend?"

"If I said no?" You teased with a smile as he chuckles before locking his lip with yours, his hand finding its way to your cheek as you immediately kiss back, the pieces finally clicking in its rightful place. He deepens the kiss as your hand finds its way to the nape of his hair, pulling him closer while his own hands make a trip to your waist who he soon finds addicting.

He pulls away, caressing your cheek as your forehead touched, smiles plastered on either faces.

"I gladly accept, 'Hiro."

"Not like I'll take no for an answer, princess."

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu!! #hanamaki x reader #mattsukawa x reader #mattsukawa issei #hanamaki takahiro #oikawa tooru #hajime iwaizumi #aoba johsai #xine's world of romance

[abyssal-memories-and-dreams]

Thanks for writing the first fanfic on leona x shy mc reader. If you don't mind but can do do with the fem shy mc with silver pls.

Hi, Luv! Thank you once again for the amazing request! I hope that this is to your fancy, it certainly took a while for me to finish!

Without further ado...

Silver x Shy! Fem! Reader! Under the Willow Tree

There was one place that you often visited during your free time at Night Raven College. A place that would calm you among all the Overblots and other dorm quarrels. A place that would allow you to avoid all the chaos in your newfound life as a magicless student, free from all the recklessness of the A-Deuce duo accompanied by your furry familiar, Grim. You would often visit this place after school as a way to avoid the loud crowds and bask in the sunny afternoons. It reached beyond Coach Vargas’ fields and towards the edge of NRC’s borders. It was a bit of a walk, but you didn’t mind. After all, the view was worth the journey.

You happened to take in that view as you took a stroll to that place. Despite walking for what felt like hours, you enjoyed the gentle spring breeze brushing up against your face. The way that the sunlight peered through the cracks of the trees’ leaves and brightened up the foliage gave you a calming sensation, welcoming you further into the forest. It was just a little bit longer, you remembered, until you reached it. That special place.

How you were able to find it was not just your doing. You see, you had a friend introduce you to this place one afternoon - which was quite a surprise given that you were certain you wouldn’t have even one friend. Even more so, in contrast to Ace and Deuce, your friend was more mature and much more responsible for his own actions. He was also quite stronger than your other friends, which made you wonder why he even talked to you at all. Maybe it was the pursuit of a destressing environment, maybe it was just an appreciation for nature. Whatever it was, you somehow were able to bond after school in the library. 

That was where you met your dear friend, Silver.

Yet, for some reason, the title of “dear friend” didn’t sit right with you when referring to him. You tried thinking of him as a “close ally” or a “cherished companion,” but neither did those terms sit right with you either. A little bit distraught at the notion that you couldn’t find something to call the silver-haired boy, but that didn’t really matter that much. After all, today you were just about to meet up with him at your special place.

It took a few more minutes before you finally found it - a wide patch of land where the sun gently kissed every blade of grass beyond the edges of the small, green landscape. Right in front of it was a pond where you would often see frogs and fish wander about and the occasional doe would step on the land for a sip of water. What was the most special about this place was right next to the pond, where a single great willow tree shaded the ground underneath. It was the perfect place for you to relax, lying your head against the tree bark as the shadows made it possible for you to read a book for hours on end. 

That was exactly what you were planning to do.

You rested your head against the bark, grabbing one of your textbooks from your book bag as you got comfortable. You made sure you were close enough to the pond to watch the fish swim aimlessly, though soon your mind centered on nothing but the book as you awaited Silver. After all, this was one of the only places you would hang out together. Even when you first met him, he was always busy with something. Whether it would be his studies, his duties as a knight-in-training, or any errand he had to do that day, you rarely got the chance to spend that much time together. But that's ok - you were hoping that he would show up anytime now.

Just two classmates hanging out - as friends - under a willow together. He’s sure to come eventually, you thought. Any minute now.

...

The sun was wavering against the horizon as the day drew closer to evening and night. You had finished reading the chapter you needed for your history class long ago, so you picked up another textbook and started to read that. Then another. Eventually, you ran out of books to read and put your attention on the fish in the pond. One, then two, then a red and an orange and a blue - all kinds of colors and shapes and sizes that mindlessly wandered the limited space. Your heart sinks more and more with each passing minute. It must’ve been hours since you’ve been here, so where was he? Did he forget? No, that couldn’t be - he’s usually very serious on timely manners. Did he doze off somewhere? Even so, he usually doesn’t sleep for that long. Then it hit you - a question that you dared yourself you wouldn’t think of, for it pained your heart ever so.

Did he not want to see you?

Was he getting bored of you ever since you first met, opting to leave you by yourself in the middle of a forest with no way of contacting you? Or were you so desperate for the fact that you found someone else to bond with that you couldn’t tell that he was being disingenuous with you? 

Was this some way of mocking you? 

Tormenting you? 

Did he pity you? 

Where was he?

Where was your friend? Your ally? Your companion? Your anything?

“Hey,” a soft voice came from ahead as your mind went elsewhere for a moment before jolting back to your reality. You looked in front of you just as a similar silver-haired boy walked in front of where you sat. Despite the skies turning darker as time drew on, you couldn’t mistake him.

Silver.

Your friend.

“Hello,” you muttered back. You tried sounding as friendly as you could, but couldn’t help but feel as though there was a bit of annoyance in your voice. You hoped you didn’t notice.

“I apologize for making you wait so long,” Silver said. “I was caught up in an incident and had to help calm things down.” Despite feeling a bit down about the fact that it was nearing nighttime, you had to understand where he was coming from.

“Was it another Overblot?” You asked.

“No, just Sebek.” You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought. “I had to separate him from another student who mocked Malleus’ name.”

“Was he trying to fight him?”

“Maybe, if I didn’t stop him. I had to promise that we would train to get his mind off the ordeal.”

There was a silence between you two that must’ve lasted a while. Despite now acknowledging the situation, your heart still weighed heavy on you. You couldn’t even look at him without unintentionally staring him in the face. You wondered what was going on inside his head right now, why you weren’t looking at him as you realized your heart was starting to race against your chest. You knew he wasn’t trying to hurt you, so what was this feeling just now?

“Hey, do you mind if I sit there?” He asked, pointing to the seat next to you. “Unless you were planning to go - I know it’s kind of dark out-”

“No, it’s fine,” you blurted out, incidentally scaring yourself. Why did you even say that?

You watched as Silver stared back at you for a brief moment before nodding in compliance, taking his place by your side against the willow. You smelled the smallest hint of sweat behind all the layers of his uniform, wondering how long it had been since he last trained. Your heart continued to beat more frequently as you realized how close you were to him. Wanting to avoid eye contact, you turned your attention back to the pond, realizing now that you were having a more difficult time seeing the fish.

“Do you like this place?” Silver asked, breaking the silence as you turned back to face him.

“Yes,” you simply said. “It’s wonderful.”

“I’m glad,” he responded. “This is one of my favorite places on campus.”

“I can tell,” you agreed. “It’s become mine, too.”

Another pause. You start to wonder if he could sense your heart beating at this point.

“That’s good to hear. I’m glad someone can enjoy it like I do.” You nodded, but kept feeling a sense of dread in your gut. Unknowingly letting the thoughts from before plague your mind, you began to dissociate for a moment as questions plagued your mind again. Is he being genuine, or is this pity?

“Silver… why did you introduce me to this place?” Silver turned to face you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Well, I thought it was easy to understand - I thought that you would like it.”

“And if I didn’t?” Wait, what were you doing? Why ask these questions out loud?

“Well, if you didn’t, you didn’t - I don’t control what you like.”

“But would you think lowly of me for not sharing the same interest?” Silver turned to face you, bewildered.

“Why do you ask that? Of course not,” he responded. “Do you think of me that way?”

You turn back to face him, only to realize that your heartbeat banged in your eardrums the minute you stared into his eyes. “N-no, that wasn’t what wasn’t what I was thinking at all,” you stuttered. “I was just… wondering…” You tried finding the words, and you were so close, but your mind was blocking you for telling them a first.

“About what?” He asked. You sighed, finally breaking through your hazy mind to say what you wanted to say.

“Well, you’re trying to become a knight for one of this world’s most powerful wizards of this time. You probably have everything going for you - a good education, support from friends and family, everything. And me… well, I have nothing. No family, no magic… I’m an outsider. Probably what this world considers the bottom of the barrel here-”

“Wait-”

“And I understand that, it makes sense! I’m not meant to be here. I don’t know how I got here. I’m just hoping that Headmaster Crowley can find a way to get me back home so I can be where I belong,” you took a breath. “It’s just… I’m not special here. I don’t have any crazy powers or an insane upcoming to justify me being here. I’m just me. And I don’t get why someone like you - someone so special - would try and talk to me…”

Another pause filled the atmosphere as you both sat there, avoiding his gaze as he tried to find a response to that. Your heartbeat bumped so hard it might as well burst out of your chest this second. Why did you say that? He probably thinks of you as some weirdo now- wait, did he just laugh? You turn to face him again, and as you suspected, he started to laugh. Did something happen a few seconds ago?

“I-I’m sorry, was something I said funny?” You asked, wondering if you should be offended by this or not.

“No, not like that. I’m just surprised,” he said. “Why would you think I cared about something like that? Do you take me as someone so shallow?” Your cheeks blushed a dusty pink.

“Wait, no, I’m sor-”

“Don’t be,” he interrupted. “I should be the one apologizing. First, I nearly miss out on our company together, then I don’t realize you harbor these feelings of self-doubt.”

“Hey, it’s not like it’s something out of your control.” You responded.

“But I made you feel that way, did I not? And I don’t want someone I care for to feel like that.”

You paused for a moment before comprehending his words. “You care for me?”

He tilted his head in confusion. “Is that not obvious? I ask if we could spend time together on multiple occasions-”

“Silver,” you interrupted, now facing another dilemma. “What do you think of me?”

He paused for a moment to stare at you, his cheeks now turning a dusty pink. What was this boy thinking?

“It’s kind of funny… that’s the reason I wanted to meet you here today,” he said. Your furrowed your eyes, wondering.

“Go on…”

“Ever since I met you that one time in the library, I admired how much you wanted to learn despite your environment. I thought you were smart, and I wanted to believe you were kind. But you always kept to yourself most of the time, and I didn’t know how to approach you. I even went to ask my old man about it, which led me to the realization that I should introduce you to this place.”

You slowly nodded, taking in his words. “So we started hanging out here instead…”

“Correct. At first, I thought I wanted to do it just for platonic purposes, but… I soon realize myself growing fonder of you.”

Your heart felt like it couldn’t take much more than it already was. Was this what you thought it was? “Silver…”

He laid his hand on top of yours. “(Y/N),” he said. “What I’m trying to ask is this. Would you like to continue this relationship further?”

Your eyes widen. “You don’t mean…” He nodded. “But what about your duties? What’s the rest of the dorm gonna think?”

“I don’t think they would mind that much. I just don’t wanna pressure you into this relationship,” He looked to the side, poorly hiding his blush away. But for that alone, you couldn’t help but smile, bringing your free hand to his cheek as you intertwined your fingers in his, causing him to look back surprised by your actions.

“Silver, there is nothing more I would want now than to stand by you. Of course I’ll accept your offer.”

Silver’s eyes lit up in joy, a smile appearing on his face as well as he looks relieved by your answer. “You have no idea how happy you made me just now, (Y/N)...”

“I could say the same to you,” you responded. He chuckled, his forehead now closer to yours as he gripped your hand a little bit tighter. His eyes started to dart back and forth for a moment, his blush growing darker. “Hey,” he said. “Do you mind if we…?” He couldn’t finish his question, but his body language said it all. Despite your face flaring up as well, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Of course.”

Silver smiled once more as you timidly brought your face closer to his, your free hand now resting on his shoulder. Under the gaze of the moonlight that peeked through the cracks of the willow’s leaves and branches, only a few could’ve seen what was going on. The way that you kissed in almost complete darkness brought a sense of security for both of you, and now knowing that you two felt the same way, you understand that this moment might not certainly be the last. After all, you finally found a title to call the boy.

Yes, your dearest love, Silver - that sounds amazing for him.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #disney #twst silver #silver #silver x reader #twisted wonderland silver

[raichijin]

⋆͛♡⋆͛ the hangover; mirio edition.  ❥ a one-shot.

━━━━━ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. (tba)

preface; writing this was honestly so painful. a testatment to why i should never 1.) do collabs ever 2.) write long things. i am drained.

word count; 5k words.

starring; mirio, mina, shinsou, denki, unnamed boyfriend.

summary; after your boyfriend forgets about your anniversary, you spend some time with friends to forgive and forget about what happened. then it gets worse.

warnings; reader gets called some nasty names towards the end of the fic. watch out for that.

you were supposed to be spending this weekend with your boyfriend. at a resort, poolside, on vacation, or on a beach, or where ever he’d fancy peeling off the nice (read: expensive) swimsuit he’d gotten you for your five year anniversary.

he was kind, is kind, but not as committed to your relationship as he was to his job. not even a call as the clock struck midnight, almost an hour past your reservation, but a text the morning after with a short apology, and the sudden announcement that he’d be working late. again. you didn’t cry. wouldn’t, because shedding tears would cause a mess and a headache, and self-doubt is what’s tucking you in at night, telling you that maybe for tonight, tomorrow and the day after your feelings don’t matter.

cause his job is the one keeping you afloat. (your interest in the arts is cute, to him; like a hobby. nothing you could stay afloat with. it’s too risky, he insists, so to you, it became nothing. to others? it became offhand remarks at his high-end office parties. a joke to your in-laws. a breathed sigh of relief from your parents.) so more time is what’s best for the both of you.

that has to be it.

your friends figure out something might be wrong when you go ghost for days, bordering on a week.

you mention how it’s easy to lose track of time when you’re by yourself as you are, but they don’t buy it. say you need to loosen up, take a vacation of your own even when you say you don’t need it because you’re not working, give you sharp glares whenever you object. you don’t know why you thought you had a choice in the matter — especially when mina’s sugar mommy gives her enough money to afford 2 full suites at one of the most expensive hotels in the area.

denki also tags along, just cause, and brings his boyfriend; shinsou, with him.

if they know what’s going on, they never mention it. 

and it’s a little easier to cope that way.

you dip your toes, ease yourself into the night, before you’re being pulled into the deep end and your mind’s been left at the door, but your body is having a field day.

you should’ve blacked out two margaritas ago.

you think you did.

you’re too drunk to recall all of the rash decisions you made, or whether or not you maxed your credit card, but you’ve must’ve gotten separated from your friends somewhere along the way, because when you wake up, you are distinctly not in your bed, not in a tastefully decorated room, not in a hotel.

and mina, shinsou, denki? unless they’re in the adjacent room, they’re not here with you either. you’re still in your clothes from last night. your shirt is missing a button and you don’t have your shoes on, but beyond that, you’re perfectly fine.

a scraggly bed head lies next to you, who is, notably, more nude than you are.

he has no shirt. no shoes. no pants. his blonde hair is unruly and you’re so shocked you actually start to wake up. your eyes widen and you’re sitting up so fast you’re a bit dizzy from the sudden motion.

the room is spinning and you feel sick, the headache behind your eyes making you want to grind your molars into dust. and just as quickly as you sat up, you lay back down; shaking the bed with the force. the guy next to you isn’t as heavy of a sleeper as you hoped, though. he blinks open tired eyes, showing you the most exquisite navy blue, and the little bit of drool dripping down his chin might’ve been cute if he wasn’t a complete stranger.

though you can’t stave off the creeping anxiety, the silence as he comes to his senses doesn’t feel wrong, and you’re more confused than scared.

he rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm, and gives you a criminally bright smile, and though his voice is wrecked when he says “...g’morning, sunshine.”, you doubt yours sounds much better. 

the nickname makes you feel fuzzy, if only for a second.

“i, uh … good morning?” you sound awkward, but the guy manages to find humor in your predicament when he chuckles gently, sitting up without so much as a second thought. you can see more of his body when he does so, and when his hand comes up to ruffle his hair, you can catch the glint of a silver band, resting on his ring finger. 

then everything clicks into place.

did you cheat? was he cheating?

all of the things you’d been beating yourself up over settle thick over top like smoke clouds and a raging fire. you feel like you’re suffocating, and don’t realize you’re freaking out until a strong hand is wrapping around yours, which, in your panic, you squeeze.

you spot a matching ring on your hand, that you know for a fact wasn’t there before,

and you think that’s when you pass out.

you wake up (again) to a room with tacky but charming decor, the smell of breakfast, and considerably less of a headache than what you started with. now more lucid, with the strength in your body to walk and think, your first priority is finding your phone. you tap your pockets, check the bedside drawer and tables, under your pillow, in the cracks of the bed, under the bed.

no cigar. you’re digging through miscellaneous memorabilia, trinkets and clothes that aren’t yours for at least a minute before the guy you were laid up in bed with comes back to just to see you picking through the corners of his bedroom, banana in hand.

he stands in the doorway and clears his throat. he has clothes on this time, pants. “you’re awake? are you feeling any better?”

you startle, straighten your back and stand upright, your arms falling to your sides. “um, kind of. i — have you seen my phone?”

he shakes his head, offers you the banana. “you should have this though! it’ll fix that hangover, i think.”

“i … thanks.” standing and eating a banana in someone else’s bedroom is certainly … a time.

“i made some breakfast,” he says when you’re halfway finished, “if you want some.” he ends with a smile, and you feel those 3 shots of serotonin go straight to your brain.

granted, you shouldn’t be that happy.

he takes the lead and turns around, leading you down a narrow hallway into a quaint kitchenette with a lovely beach view and all the good summer vibes condensed into a single, small room. it makes your heart hurt even more when you realize you have someone home, someone expecting you to come back.

to a hollow apartment, a cold bed, a lukewarm welcome.

you have to force your brain to be quiet to even hear a fraction of what blondie is saying.

“alcohol basically just dehydrates you. the potassium stops that, gets you all your minerals and stuff back. i heard it works with beer, so i was thinking it works for other stuff too!” he sounds so chipper that it brings your mood up just to hear his voice.

so bold and sure, warm and kind.

“but if it doesn’t clear up in 30 minutes, i have some advil i can give you! don’t want you having a headache all day now.” he’s sitting you down at his small table and sliding some pancakes in front of you, some orange juice. eating feels like a chore, but you know you have to, or that you should try at least.

while you push around your food, blondie chatters away, and even if you just met, he has you entranced by the way he speaks. smooth like the butter on his toast as his stories flow effortlessly into one another, how easily he can chat you up is amazing; getting you from gentle chuckles to full blown belly laughter before you can get your first bite in.

there’s lulls in the conversation if you count the moments he takes to actually eat, but he keeps you on your toes with his personal anecdotes, and questions about yourself, forcing you out of your shell, little by little.

the thought of your boyfriend pushed back into the depths of your mind.

until you broach the topic of your friends.

you learn quickly that he’s a good listener, completely silent unless prompted, asking questions or making jokes only when you’re finished speaking. when he asks, you tell him about the ones that got you here, shinsou, denki and mina.

his eyes flash momentarily, a look of recognition, or maybe understanding, passing over him. he hums gently, head swaying as he does so.

“they’re a little rough around the edges but they’re like family, you know?”

“i get what you mean. they were very nice when i met them. especially at our wedding!” he sips his coffee.

“i — are you alright? you’re choking!” that you are. the guilt you felt when you first woke up and the rising panic ram into your gut like a freight train, and suddenly, you don’t want to eat anymore.

"what do you mean we're married?" you rub small circles into your forehead as this idyllic morning goes right back to being cruel hell. 

"yesterday, at the chapel," he twists his wedding ring with warm familiarity that makes your stomach churn. "i can't really believe it myself, like maybe we were meant to be? i know the universe works in strange ways like that."

you're sorry to burst his bubble, but you save the happily ever afters for fairy tales, not real life.

you pinch your forehead and heave an exasperated sigh.

"i have a boyfriend." you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to seek lost comfort. "and we don't know each other to begin with. can't even remember your name, i was so drunk."

you cradle your face in your palms, feel his stare bore into the top of your head.

"togata." you perk up.

“what?”

“my name. it’s togata. mirio togata.” 

“oh.” you rub your cheeks, pull them back with the heels of your palms.

“that’s a nice name.” an uncomfortable silence washes over you both before someone speaks up. mirio.

“so what do you want to do?”

you answer a little bit too fast in response. “i don’t know. i … i should call my friends. i still need to find my phone—” you stand up, ignore the onslaught of nausea, and look around the kitchen.

“help me look? and then … and then we can figure out all the other details later.” mirio carries both your plates to the sink, and busies himself with dishes for a brief moment, allowing you to find the bathroom nook and reorient yourself. you fix yourself up a bit, straighten out your shirt and fix your hair up. no time to take a shower.

you cup a hand in front of your mouth, breathe and sniff. eugh. 

“hey, uh, togata; got an extra toothbrush?” his heart might’ve lept when you called him by his given name.

“um! yeah!” rushing water obscures his voice a bit, but if he shouts he’s loud enough to hear. “check under the sink? i should have some there.”

“thanks.”

you rummage around in his cabinets, and in that time he’s managed to clean up the leftover food and put a shirt on. 

your phone having gotten lost or being stolen becomes more of a possibility the longer you think about it. you doubt you came back to his house to do anything but sleep. how many places could you have dropped it? you come out of the bathroom to mirio sitting back at the kitchenette table, holding his phone in his hand.

“hey togata … do you think you can call me?”

“i mean, sure, but i don’t know if i have your number...”

your anxiety makes you a bit snippy even when you don’t mean to be rude, but you can apologize when you get your phone back.  ”just give it to me then. i’ll do it.”

it rings a few times before someone picks up, which is a step up from going to voicemail, and the situation goes from okay to great when the croaky voice of shinsou answers, worn out and tired, but awake enough to make a greeting.

he says you’re not here to pick up the phone right now, you interrupt and say that this is you, and that you just borrowed togata’s phone to figure out where yours was.

“togata? who?” 

“my, my um. husband.” gingerly said, you can see mirio tense up in the corner of your eye.

“oh,” someone’s snickering away from the mic. denki probably. you can’t help but roll your eyes. “mirio?” you’re upset that he can remember his name but you couldn’t. “how is he?” you shoot mirio a look, he gives you a thumbs up.

“good. so, uh, where are you guys?”

two hours away. they’re two hours away by car and mirio’s pickup truck is exactly what you’d expect from him. it’s big, beat up, it’s blue, and it’s his pride and joy, even if it’s slow to start up. if anything, it feels a bit humbling to hear the low hum of the buzzing engine. brings you back down to reality, out of the lap of luxury.

reminds you of the way mirio laughs with his whole chest. that gentle, rumbling purr.

you’re sinking into the crunchy leather seat with a groan, then a laugh from togata; to which you swat at him. you give him the address so he can set it up with his gps, and get going. he messes it up a bit and then it’s your turn to laugh, much to his displeasure. he blushes from the embarrassment, and you pat his shoulder, still chuckling. it feels natural. waking up together. having breakfast together. unofficial road trip to meet back up with your friends because you got blackout drunk and are 100 miles away.

oh, right. you sigh softly and mirio looks over, thinking to comfort you by turning on the radio, greeted by soft pop and slow guitars.

the silence carries.

fifteen minutes into the drive, he thinks to ask about your boyfriend.

“what’s he like?” togata drums his fingers on the wheel with an air of anxiety almost, though you can’t imagine why he would be — unless he thinks you won’t react well to his question. you don’t mind however, and sate his curiosity without as much as a glance.

“oh, he’s nice,” your statement lacks the enthusiasm you’d expect when someone talks about their significant other. it seems sincere, yet exhausted.

“buys me whatever i want, when i want it, loves his job to death, and … we were supposed to be celebrating our anniversary this week.” dejection is visible in the way you slouch your shoulders, interest waning. mirio can’t help but exercise a little concern, filling in the gaps while he’s at it..

“and you couldn’t, because you came here?” you shake your head.

“what? no. i came here because he was too busy, and my friends thought i could still have some fun on my own. his job is important to him.”

“and your relationship isn’t?” your eyes narrow, glaring at him from the passenger's seat.

“the fuck’s that supposed to mean mirio?” 

“well, an anniversary is supposed to be more important than some job— don’t you think he should just take a day off? it wouldn’t hurt.” you lean against the car door, shoulder propping your head up as you peer out the window.

“i mean, i guess. but he’s keeping us afloat, so i can’t really complain.” togata’s eyebrows shoot up.

his tone is incredulous. “what, you don’t work?”

seeing you cringe away out of the corner of his eye is what makes him back track almost immediately.

“i’m so sorry! i’m — wow, that was completely out of line,” your embarrassment lessens when he apologizes, and you inhale sharply. 

“don’t worry. it’s, it’s fine.” you can’t help the way your fingers dig into the flesh of your arm, gnawing the inside of your cheeks, afraid of getting laughed at. mirio wouldn’t laugh at you, would he? 

“i, i used to make music. i was in a band in highschool, actually.” though mirio’s forced to keep his eyes on the road lest you two crash, you can see the way his smile reaches his ears, the silent ‘wow’ of awe making your cheeks heat up. high brow company doesn’t have much use for your talents unless it’s the violin, or something else that fits their lame-ass agenda. your bass chills in the back of your closet, a relic of the past, but a neat decoration.

you shake your head, too caught up in your own train of thought that you didn’t realize togata was speaking.

“i’m sorry, what’d you say?”

“oh! i was just curious, i asked if you sing?” you snort, then full on laugh, though mirio doesn’t seem to get the joke.

“oh, hell no. i don’t have the voice for it, nor the patience to do vocal training. i just played bass! thought it was easier than guitar because it only had 4 strings. i was wrong. maybe i could … show you sometime? i mean, it’s been a while, but i think i remember a few songs: have you heard of seven nation army?”

you talk with mirio about music at length, and learn that he’s a pretty big enthusiast himself and while he’s never played an instrument, he’s been interested in learning guitar. he brings up your band, and the memories of your senior year come flooding back; mina and denki convincing you to audition, your stage fright, recruitment later in spite of it. 

mirio can see the stars in your eyes when you speak, speaking so animatedly with clear adoration at the topic at hand, and he starts getting a creeping suspicion that back where you’re from, you don’t get to talk about this as nearly as much as you like. he realizes in the same breath that he doesn’t mind indulging you. he participates enough so you don’t feel like you’re chatting his ear off, but quiet enough to hear you fill in the empty space.

the way your hands move as you tell stories is adorable and so is your enthusiasm, he could hear you ramble for hours and never get bored. and he nearly does, it’s been an hour and you’re still talking — but then you take a breath, and apologize for no good reason.

he squints at you, confused.

“what’re you apologizing for?”

“i’ve been talking waaaaay too much. i’ve barely heard a word out of you for the last thirty minutes!”

“i thought you were having fun! i know i liked listening. besides, it looks like that you don’t get to talk enough about the stuff you enjoy. i’m willing to listen, so talk all you want!” the assumption makes you furrow your brow, and you hate that you feel like he’s right. 

your boyfriend either talks about his job, your friends, his parents, or nothing at all. no interest in music. no time for it. your friends enjoy reminiscing on occasion, but you don’t speak enough to them to get all nostalgic.

it’s … nice that he takes your feelings into consideration. you smile to yourself, saying nothing in response.

“we’re getting closer to the hotel — it’s 30 minutes away now.” it gets quiet again, before all the sounds you hear are the other cards and the slow hum of low volume music you’d forgotten about, coming from the radio. you turn towards the window to take in the scenery while mirio catches glimpses of you in his periphery, surprised at how adorable you look, doing even the most mundane of things.

mirio couldn’t remember much from the night before, well, can’t remember anything that wasn’t you. you weren’t completely out of it when you met him, but he could’ve misjudged, considering he wasn’t quite in his right mind either. didn’t know if it was the alcohol that made you so bold, but everything about you was so charming. 

from something as simple as your smile to how easily you chatted him up, despite his tendency to be a tad overbearing, you would take him and his attitude in stride. running around town, dipping in and out of nightclubs with your friends close behind, getting kicked out of said clubs, dancing and laughing together in another—

he huffs, pouting to himself. your boyfriend was so damn lucky.

he steps on the gas and starts going a little faster. you don’t seem to mind.

the rest of the trip was silence, and it wasn’t until he parked and stepped out of the car and said something.

“wow.” he whistles, low and long, until you pinch his arm to stop from attract the stares of passerby. “you guys could afford this? gosh. that’s like, three of my paychecks, maybe.” you chortled as he helped you out, quick to clear up any confusion.

“not me,” you walked in the lobby with him, going straight to the elevators after checking in with the front desk. “i could barely afford it! mina’s … uhm, girlfriend, paid for a room for all of us.” he arches a brow at the emphasis on girlfriend, but if he has any objections, he holds his peace.

“mmh. wonder what it’s like to be rich.” 

you laugh as you’re carried up a few floors, specifically to the more expensive suites, at least 12 floors up. “me too dude! mina is lucky.”

you’re barely knocking on the room door before denki is throwing it open and screeching, ushering you both in. they remember mirio from last night, which is upsetting, considering they don’t remember anything else: not how you got to mirio’s house, not how they got back home. not how they found your phone in the bathroom either, apparently.

“speaking of bathrooms, i’m gonna take a shower. keep mirio company, i guess." 

you have to look through your luggage for a change of clothes, and find your phone on your bed in your room, charging and you don’t think about going through it until after you’re clean.

coming back to nearly forty notifications from your boyfriend wasn’t on the agenda, and quite frankly, might’ve been a sign. some were calls but most were all lower case texts, each more foreboding than the last. holding your towel up with one hand, you scroll through your messages with the other.

 what the fuck is wrong with you?

 who the hell is this guy?

beneath it, a video of you and togata. your pupils dilate, and a deeply rooted sense of dread clutches your heart. it looks like a screen recording off of denki’s instagram account, of you two dancing. not overtly scandalous, but too close for comfort.

have you been cheating on me? 

for how long

how desperate are you? i say i have a business trip and you take it as an excuse to slut it up somewhere else?

you’re fucking pathetic.

heart slowly sinking, threatening to beat out of your chest, you can’t find it in you to scroll through the rest. you barely have pants on before you’re calling him up, frenzied and feeling out of breath. the phone barely rings twice before you’re going to voicemail and hearing the beeping tone. 

fuck. fuck fuck fuck.

you hang up, and try again.

this time, he picks up on the first dial tone.

“baby?” you nearly yell into the microphone, while the other end remains silent.

“what is it.” his voice is hollow, not even asking a question; rather making a statement. you choke on your words, are quiet for a few seconds at most before he’s barking at you. “i don’t have all day. i’m busy.”

“t-that video. it wasn’t, it wasn’t anything—” something slams in the background that makes you flinch, and he takes it as a good opportunity to cut you off.

“so the wedding wasn’t shit either? the way he was holding you, looking at you like that, like some lovesick fucking puppy?”

“w-what? what’re you talking about honey? it’s nothing like that—”

“don’t get fucking cute with me. i’ve seen the photos. that girl mina doesn’t know how to not publicize your life.” you feel like dying. 

“i knew i should’ve never settled for you.”

“you don’t mean that—”

“shut the fuck up.” there’s more shuffling on his end, a deep sigh. you’re too shaken to speak. “i wasted so much on you. gave you a house, a home, just for you to repay the favor by being a two-bit whore, sit on your ass all day and complain, and waste my time with those stupid fucking hobbies of yours.” what’s more terrifying is that his voice doesn’t wane or waver. he means it.

“... honey, please. please just let me explain!” you hadn’t even noticed the tears until you’re wiping them off your cheeks, your sniffling getting louder until you’re full on sobbing.

“there’s nothing left to explain. get your shit out by tuesday. we’re done.”

the line goes dead after that.

you don’t realize how much time has passed since you went to go shower initially, only that it’s been a while, considering how urgently mina starts knocking on the door.

“baby, are you alright? you’ve been in there for half an hour!” you can’t find it in you to respond. all it results in is choking on your own words, coughing and sobbing and tears and this fucking headache.

you don’t want to be seen.

mina announces that she’s coming in, and conversation behind the door quiets down until you can’t hear it anymore. just your own thoughts. she opens it and finds you in the corner, your knees to your chest while you’re just barely dressed, hair soaking wet. crying feebly until she rushes over and asks what happened.

you show her your phone. the texts.

she wraps her arm around your back and helps you up. hands you a towel so you can finish drying yourself off, and picks out some clothes for you to wear. when she turns around, she’s greeted by the concerned faces of your friends. mirio.

her face morphs from a look of concern to pure rage.

“what the fuck!?” she all but snatches your phone away from you, to which you pull your hands back and cradle you legs again. “who the fuck does this asshole think he is?” she looks down at you just then, and sees the red in your eyes, the tear tracks that stain your cheeks and a few drops dripping off your chin. you need your help more than you need her rage and half hearted insults. 

“you yelled.” shinsou states plainly. “is everything alright?” mina approaches them and ushers everyone out, closing the door, presumably to give you some privacy.

you dress slowly, the few minutes feeling like an eternity before you’re reaching for the door handle, clean and feeling like shit, for different reasons other than a hangover.

when you emerge from your room, mirio gives you a hug.

a hug that you melt into. one that you weren’t expecting but squeeze him back just as hard, tears that didn’t quite make it out seeping into the spot where you press into his shirt. his arms are comforting and strong, rubbing and patting your back gently, until the room is silent beyond your heartbeat and your sniffles, your friends milling about in the background.

“he said i have to move out.” your fingers dig into togata’s shirt. “pack up all my stuff and leave but i don’t know where i’m supposed to go—”

there’s a smaller hand patting your back when mina speaks up.

“d-don’t worry.” you can feel her hugging you too, a special warmth blooming in your chest. 

“we’ll figure something out.”

while you’re leaving the hotel, mina makes a call to her girlfriend camie to explain the situation, and by the time you’re back in mirio’s pick up, she said that camie offered to rent you an apartment in her name. the earliest she can get it was by monday, so she offered to let you spend the night for a couple days as well. denki says that he and shinsou could help you with things around the house: shopping, redecorating, etc.

togata is the one who offers to help you get your stuff. you arrange the date for monday, actually exchange phone numbers, and meet up at 8.

it makes sense; his car has enough space in the back, you don’t have much of your own stuff, but you nearly regret accepting the offer in the first place. something about moving out with your … husband in tow doesn’t sit well with you. almost seems like it’s too soon. 

but mirio’s charming enough to make the whole ordeal seem less like a fever dream. you’re beaming at him by the time you’re all done, laughing and smiling and so infectiously happy. by the time you both wind down you’re out of breath, wheezing in the front seats of the car.

he smiles fondly at you.

you can feel your cheeks heat as you return the sentiment.

then both of you are back on the road. the musics louder this time, and you get to show him how shitty you sing; which he insists isn’t so bad after all. it’s after twenty minutes of this that you’re suddenly struck by the irony of it all. 

“i can’t believe our first date with you was me moving out of my exes apartment.” mirio chokes on his spit, cheeks bleeding red as he does a double take, eyes flitting from the road, back to you, back to the road.

“wait.”

“that was our date?”

𝔱 𝔞 𝔤 𝔩 𝔦 𝔰 𝔱 ;  @mitsusuri​ @okayshin​ @tamasoft

#mirio togata x reader #bnha x reader #togata mirio x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #togata mirio #mirio togata #bnha pocuties collab #mirio x you #togata x you #mirio x reader #togata x reader

[guksauce]

~TickledPink!~

Part Seven

Pairing: Jjk x Reader Pregnant AU

Word Count: 4,367K

Rated: M

Book Warnings: Mentions of Sexual Assault, Mild Smut, Adult Language, Fluff City.

Author: @guksauce

Notes: Thank you to those who show this story and myself love 💖 Thank you to everyone who’s been on this journey with me.

Tag List: @jamkookies @jk97luv @1-in-abillion

For weeks the question of whether or not you were brave enough to move forward with this pregnancy loomed like a storm cloud over your head. Beyond the crashing fear you felt, the thought of who you were with and where you were now in comparison to the life you’d lived before, you were swollen with confidence from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. Still, the memory you try so hard to avoid thinking about climbs up the back of your throat like the rising sun through the windows in the kitchen, scratching and threatening to rip out a scream. The coffee cup in your hands shakes as you stare through the blinds; imagination turning the perfectly trimmed hedges into a dirty green dumpster. It overflows with the smell of rotten food, waste, and your now broken pride. The coffee inside the cup is scalding, and you're positive it is burning the prints right off the pads of your fingers, but you are too mentally exhausted to care. A branch of the tree in the yard, littered with forest colored leaves, sways in front of the sun and makes the rays shining through the gaps glint in your eyes. It turned what should be a beautiful golden glow into the dingy flicker of the broken sign at the diner that ugly rainy night. 

The you that stands in the kitchen begs to close your eyes. They burn as the result of not being able to think clearly enough to even blink. But the you that called Namjoon in the wee hours of the morning that day was caught in the crazed eyes of your offender. You remembered him being wild, rabid even. You also remembered that you wouldn't have been surprised if he had been foaming from the mouth under the black mask covering his face. 

Just as the sun breached the height of the highest trees, the kitchen exploded with a blinding light, Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata playing softly from the speaker on the counter behind you almost forcefully dragging your emotions out further and further. Where the sunlight streaming in should have warmed your insides and shocked you out of your inner turmoil, it instead highlighted your pain and the drops of salty tears painting wet trails down your cheeks just as Jungkook stepped into the kitchen. Halting in his tracks, his eyebrows cinched together and his heart dropped to his stomach as he watched your pain shake your frame to its core. It took all of five long strides across the kitchen to reach you before he rested his chin on your shoulder and wrapped his comforting arms around you. You recoiled for a moment, so lost in your memories that the arms that intended to protect you blended with the ones that swore to harm you. 

“Shhh. It’s alright y/n.” He cooed softly, coaxing you away from the demons that haunted you and into a new unfamiliar world of bliss. “It’s just me. Im sorry.” His voice was barely above a whisper, tangled in the strands of your hair that had fallen in your face. The silence that followed was calming to say the least. The longer the two of you stood facing the warmth of the sun and the beginnings of summer's lush greenery beginning to bloom in the garden, the more you felt the weight of impending events to come wear off of you. Spinning you in his grasp, Jungkook guided your arms around his neck, pulled you closer, and easily lifted you off your feet in a dizzying twirl as the piano notes dramatically swirled around the morning lit kitchen, resulting in a fit of giggles from both of you. You let this feeling sink into your bones and will your muscles to relax and mentally ask politely for your heart to stop pounding in your chest in such a violent manner. It feels so good that you can't stand the thought of having to ruin it, but your thoughts won't stop attacking you. 

“I have my first Ultrasound appointment today.” You share. He doesn't stop swaying but his familiar chocolate orbs gaze down at you with an emotion that not even he is sure fits the situation. It’s just a smile. One you don't expect to see, but it's littered with what you can only imagine being...excitement? But why? Unbeknownst to you, somewhere inside him...he is. However, he can see by the expression on your face, that despite his excitement, you are terrified. 

“Whatever happens y/n, you are not alone. I know this is beyond cliche to say but, everything will be alright. There's no way in hell me, or Namjoon, or any of the others are going to let you go through this without support.” You don't mean to but, you watch the way his lips bounce off each other when he says words like “Me” and “be”. They glisten in ways that could make any woman weak, but the meaning spilling from them means so much more to you. It pains Jungkook to add what he's about to but he says it anyway in hopes that whatever worrying thoughts you might be having, sort themselves into the appropriate folders. “Whatever decision you choose to make, I will be right here with you.” Another comfortable silence falls over both of you as you lean closer into his embrace. 

“This might be too much to ask but...would you come with me today?” You ask and hold your breath, waiting for his answer. You expect him to say ‘No’. You almost WANT him to say no when the weight of your question pulls your eyes from his lips down between where your bodies pressed together, just as Namjoon rounds the corner to the kitchen. 

Namjoon had been gone all day. Caught his favorite coffee shop right at opening time where he ordered an iced americano and a raspberry scone. He had run eight miles to the park with the lake he liked to visit, and watched the reflection of the clouds in the water for an hour before running back home. When he’d arrived, instead of heading straight upstairs like he normally would have, the dryness scratching at the back of his throat begged to be squelched with cold water from the fridge. But upon hearing your question before he’d dared to peek around the wall, he watched. Watched the way Jungkook let his arms hang loosely at the small of your back. Watched the way the tips of your fingers absentmindedly played with the curls resting at the nape of his neck. The two of you looked so natural together that Namjoon almost felt the raspberry scone forcefully lurch its way up his throat. It isn't that he didn't want you or Jungkook to be happy, but he'd always imagined it would be him holding you like that someday. Namjoon closed his eyes and swallowed hard, willing the fluffy pastry contents of his stomach to go back down and stepped into the kitchen. 

Jungkook doesn't hesitate to answer your question with an excited “Of course!”. He didn't know what it was about this situation, but he couldn't deny that even in his young age, helping you through this and being part of the experience was everything he wanted. There had been so many days and nights that he had admired his mother for becoming the strong woman she is today through being a mom. Jungkook could say the same for his father after watching how he had supported young kook’s mother in both big and small ways. Jungkook understood the importance of bringing a child into this world and thus the importance of assuring that the child that he or she would always have people in their life that love them unconditionally. The corners of his lips twitched up in a smile when your eyes flashed up to meet his. The surprise that widened them caught every glint of light streaming in through the window and in that moment, Jungkook saw you in a new and vivid way...but so had Namjoon. 

“I promise i'll take care of you.” Koo whispered, his warm breath fluttering against your cheeks. Joon, after finally deciding that he couldn't take it anymore, burst through the room and ripped open the fridge, snatched out a bottle of water and knocked three more over in the process. You don't mean to but you find yourself taking a large leap away from Jungkook. The expression he wears is full of understanding but it doesn't keep him from grinning at the blush coloring your features. 

“Good Morning Joonie.” You don't recognize the forced voice that flies from your mouth. It's too high and sounds distorted, making Jungkook smirk more and huff out a small breathy laugh. You glare at him and kick out your leg playfully in his direction but you could say the same for your vision as well when you finally scan the kitchen in its entirety; distorted and warped. “How was your run? I planned on catching you before you left but you were gone before I could get to the bottom of the stairs.” 

If it weren't for the fact that you had grown up with this man, the very carefully placed facade Namjoon wore would have slipped right past you. But you noticed the way his shoulders were slumped and the lack of a whistle sang through his lips, breaking the silence in the kitchen. But above all, it was the “Uh…” he only does when he's especially nervous that he started his next sentence with that let you know something was up. 

“Uh, morning. And sorry about that. I was trying to get to the bakery when they opened. You know how much i love scones.” What could you say to that? You knew he liked scones, but you were almost certain they’d never really been a favorite of his. Then again, he's been living a much different life than the one you knew his 16 year old past self to live. It's upsetting, you think, how time has gifted you with a lifelong friendship with this incredible man but somewhere along the way that same time has made you forget who he is...or only remember who he was and have no idea who he has become. Sparing a glance up at you, he shakes the bottle of water in his hand and smiles before exiting the kitchen. 

“Hyung!” Jungkook calls after him and follows him out of the kitchen, leaving you alone with your thoughts again. But this time doesn't feel so heavy. Your coffee has cooled to a comfortable temperature and your mind is full with how it feels to be wrapped in Jungkook's embrace. You think about how ridiculously school girlish you feel when you're with him and bounce on the balls of your heals in attempts to keep yourself from squealing until the coffee in your belly starts to make you feel queasy. 

A glimpse of a single white butterfly catches your eye. Its tiny little wings flap tirelessly as it floats past the window. It looks oddly familiar. Or perhaps feels familiar. That feeling...That fluttering feeling. You rest a hand over your thickening torso and swallow hard as you take a seat at the kitchen table. How...familiar…

It's time. The clock on your phone strikes 12:00PM and an alarm follows promptly after, screaming obnoxiously in your face. It's time. It's time. You’ve just downed your third mug of coffee when Jimin enters the kitchen and waves at you with both of his happy little hands. It's time. You never once moved from your spot, glued to the chair ever since you saw the butterfly. Time had flown by you. You wonder if you ever even blinked. It's time. There's a spot on the table that holds your attention. The wood, though it's already dark, looks burnt in a particular place. It looks like a black hole and you treat it as such, staring aggressively at it and wishing for it to swallow you up whole until a set of ringed fingers enter your line of site and brush over the surface. 

“One night we had a food fight and somehow someone's napkin got mixed up in the chaos and dropped onto a candle we had lit in the center.” Yoongi. His voice is low and comes out slow and smooth. You dare trail your eyes from his fingers to his face, much like the black abyss you'd imagined the spot to be, you find his gaze on the burnt table is farther away than you expected, reminiscing a moment in time when you didnt exist in their home. “Hoseok had to get the fire extinguisher and covered our dinner in white fluff.” A smile twitches on his dry lips. Regardless, it's nice to hear him speak to you again. 

“We laughed forever.” Tae says as he rounds the table and takes a seat next to you. His presence alone makes you feel better, the goofy expression he wears when you look at him makes you laugh and shake your head. 

“We had to throw it all away.” Jimin says and sets a bottle of water in front of you with a smile and nods at you as if to say ‘Drink up.’. So, you do. 

“So many wasted noodles. I'd been looking forward to eating them so bad.” Jungkook says, pouty lips and rosy cheeks making his fair skin glow and his dark curls darker. The lot of them laugh together in agreement as Jungkook holds a hand out to you. “Ready?”

A nod of your head ‘yes’ feels more like a magical bewitched wiggle of your nose because you're already at the clinic before you can take your next breath. From the passenger's seat you watch Yoongi’s hands on the steering wheel glide effortlessly over the matte black finish. You wonder if asking him to come was too far fetched of an idea. He hasn't seemed bothered. In fact he had not seemed like anything. Not a single muscle in his face had twitched, not a single hint of emotion. He'd simply scooped his keys off the counter and held the door open for Jungkook, Namjoon, and myself. 

When he puts the car in park, you dread the moment he takes his hands off the wheel. You stay seated, your body swaying to and fro as the weight of the car shifts while the guys all file out. 

You can do this Y/n. You can. You got this.  

Joon opens your car door for you and carefully helps you out one step at a time. From where you stand in the parking lot, you can see the giant letters on the front of the building that read (MEDICAL FACILITY). They Are daunting and make you shiver and lean into Joon’s side. 

“It's alright y/n.” He whispers to you quietly and kisses comfortingly into your hair. “Joonies got you.” 

Inside it's so much harder to exist in this life and coexist in the presence of others once you've found a spot in the waiting room. Namjoon promised to return with your bag from the car before you could blink, a panicked skip in his step when he ran back out the rotating door in the hospital lobby. Jungkook watched his back like a lost puppy after Namjoon all but shouted an order at him to get you signed in. Since this morning the tension between them had been high and clouded and you wondered where Jungkook had followed him to before leading you away to your current terror. 

It's too white in here. The chairs look like they have not been updated since the 70’s. The plants in the corners of the room had begun to wilt, filling the space with stagnant water and rotting soil mixed with the pungent scent of sterilizer. The flickering fluorescent lights above you bring back memories you wish you could avoid forever but it only highlights exactly why you're here. There's a painting on the wall that looks like a really old silk painting. The material is worn and frayed at the edges but the dull grey strokes depict what looks to be a man in a carriage being pulled by the likes of a Dragon through a body of water. Your eyes scan the length of the dragon just as you hear the nurse call for the next patient as though your head was underwater, glancing down at the plaque that reads “Man Driving the Dragon.”

Worry settles in the pit of your stomach when you realize neither Jungkook nor Namjoon are back, and the mountain in the back of the painting starts to look intimidatingly large when a hand rests on your knee. Your chair had begun to squeak under the shaking of your leg, and Yoongi could tell that you were starting to panic when your eyes had latched on to the painting. He didn't say anything; rubbed his thumb over the fabric of your jeans just once and it was all you needed to crumble the mountain in the painting and relax all of your muscles. For a moment you worry you've bothered him, but when both boys come rushing back to your side, he gives your knee a small pat and stands just as your name is called. All at once your body shakes, your heart drops to your stomach pounding hard enough to keep your legs from moving, the message never reaching your brain. The nurses jacket flows behind her, softly brushing the back of her knees while she scribbles information on the clipboard in her hands. 

“Breathe Y/n.” Namjoon whispers in your ear when he notices your eyes scan every room you pass, searching for something to distract you or to frighten you further, you aren't sure which one. He’s careful when he touches you, fingertips gripping your elbow to guide you back to the here and now. The overwhelming scent of steryl fries every hair in your nostrils and starts a storm in your head, the hallway closing in around you. Jungkook is there as you start to sway, a hand on your back to steady you and you catch a glimpse of Yoongi at your flank with his hands out in front of him. Suddenly the nurse is stopping in front of you, the door is opening and streaming out of the room through the dark is a very soft off white glow, followed by a smell that reminds you of the eucalyptus body wash setting on the shelf in the shower at home. 

And that's what this feels like out of the blue, a sense of homeness. It's the pink orchids in full bloom on the counter, the jar of fluffy cotton balls and the assortment of blue tinted tissues next to the reclined leather chair in the center. It's also the bottom half of the walls painted sage green and the top a crisp white in a way that makes you think of decorative ideas for the nursery at home. But above all, it's the three men following behind you and the four others waiting for you at home that gives you the most comfort. 

After a quick change of clothes and the prick of a finger for blood work, you're comfortably laid back in the chair just as the cold gel is squeezed onto your belly. The sonographer that replaced the nurse is bright eyed and almost overly hyper as she presses the device to your stomach and chirps happily in a way that somehow reminds you of Jimin. 

“I'm excited to show you your baby today, miss Y/L/N!” You don't know where it stems from but the smile on your face spreads from ear to ear as a fuzzy black and white image appears on the screen. But then she's pointing at the screen to something small in the middle and your eyes are glued. 

“This little spot right here...is your baby!” When the Sonographer turns back to make sure you've seen it, her smile turns from excited to warm. The men with you have crowded around you gazing with awe at the monitor. Namjoon behind you with his hands on your shoulders. Jungkook at your side, kneeling down so his face is inches from yours. And Yoongi at your knees leaning with his fingers pressed into the taut leather of the chair to get a closer look. 

“Wow…” Jungkook breathes out, absentmindedly lacing your fingers together. You squeeze his fingers just as Joon squeezes your shoulders tenderly and Yoongi falls to his elbows at your thighs patting the same spot on your knee as he had before. 

“Everything looks good too. It’s exactly where it’s supposed to be.” The sonographer speaks quieter and separates her last couple of words like she knows it's exactly what you need to hear right now. A moment of anxiety makes you think she's saying it because she's judging you for what happened, but when you tear your eyes from the screen and catch her gaze, you know she's being genuine. “I'm going to give you all a couple minutes to look at this while i go grab your copies. I'll be back in a moment.” With a smile she bows softly and leaves the room to us. Yoongi watches the way Namjoon and Jungkook lovingly caress you and feels a pang of guilt in his stomach. 

“Actually, could the two of you leave for a second? I'd like a moment with y/n.” He asks, standing straight and the boys share a worried look. 

“Hyung…” Jungkook mumbles looking at you, to which you nod after squeezing his hand. 

“It's alright. It's not like he's going to eat me or anything.” You assure him softly. Both boys obey their older brother and exit the room. Yoongi hold a hand out to you and you take it without hesitating. You'd been waiting for the opportunity to just sit down and talk with him since the moment you stepped foot into his home. 

“I just wanted to apologize for…” His eyebrows sinch together, that forever deep in thought look on his face passes through complex stages of emotions and it's so endearing that you struggle to do everything in your power not to giggle. He starts again, this time with more confidence in his voice. “I wanted to apologize for doubting you. For not believing in Namjoon when he needed me most. For not realizing what you meant to him. To Jungkook. And in turn...Me.” It's not what you expect to hear from him.  

“It feels like a dream to hear you say that. You’ve been right about all of it from the beginning. It was an unrealistic expectation to think all of you would just be completely okay with having to deal with the change of someone new in the comfort of your home.” Yoongi nods slowly, taking every word of your thoughts into consideration. 

“Yes, they may have been true at the time but the change was good. Your presence shook up our world and gave our minds a new direction. You sparked a new inspiration in us. I wrote five songs yesterday. Namjoon wrote three. Even Taehyung had me look over some new lyrics. And Jimin a melody for a song we've been stuck on for a while now.” Again you're unsure of what to say but you feel at home all over again as though a line had never divided the two of you to begin with. A knock at the door breaks the bubble but a weight feels lifted from your shoulders and the future feels lighter. 

Four printed copies of your ultrasound crinkle quietly as the boys all pass them around. The entire group is snuggled around you on the couch. You Are snuggled into Jungkook on your left, Jin leans close on your right with Namjoon cuddled up behind him. At your feet Jimin leans back against Yoongi’s chest between your knees with Hobi curled up between Jins knees, and Tae between Koo’s with one of his legs thrown over Tae’s shoulder as he fidgets with a rip in Koo’s jeans. The fireplace is roaring, fat raindrops pelt the windows, and Tae’s favorite jazz mix plays softly in the background. The long day of events runs through your mind like a roll of film, buzzing softly but you finally feel like it's okay to accept the love they just keep offering to you for nothing in return. It's exhilarating but your heart is at ease all the same. 

In your hand you observe the child growing inside of you and you take a deep content breath and nuzzle further into Jungkook’s side. He’s been just as content if not more since seeing the baby for the first time. Since seeing your face light up in a way he had not experienced yet. Now you were glowing and warm and he swore to himself that he would do his damndest to keep it that way. With his cheek pressed into your hair he observed the photo with you over your shoulder, imagining teeny tiny hands that looked like yours and smiled, kissing your temple. He smiled more when your chest rose a little higher, your body shivering against his as you let out a shaky breath. 

“Someone help. I can’t find it. Where is it?” Jin whines and everyone bickers at him for not being able to see it, laughter in their voices as they tease him. Namjoon attempts to point it out but you giggle when he’s too far over. Behind you, Koo chuckles and points at the baby in Jin’s picture. 

“It's this little bug right here.” He says and you smile at the nickname. 

“Little bug. That's so cute.” You say. 

“Looks more like a peanut.” Tae says, looking up at you with a wide boxy smile. This moment feels precious, surrounded by real unconditional love. Welcome to your new beginning Y/n. 

Part Six

Master List

Part Eight

#jungkook #BTSau #AU #Fanfiction #bts fanfic #pregnancy au #OT7 dads #single dad au #jungkook x reader #kookie #namjoon #joonie

[pars-ley]

Come away with me

Pairing: Jimin x f reader ft Namjoon x f reader

Summary: Roses are dead, my soul feels blue, come away with me, I only want you. Being forced into an arranged marriage is not ideal, even less so when you're hopelessly in love with someone else. But with your choice, could come bloody consequences.

Genre: arranged marriage au / affair au / angst / smut / fluff / mafia au / 

Rating: 18+ (nsfw)

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Oral f recieving / sex / finger foreplay / mention of murder /

Beta reader: @taegularities​ thank you so much!

A/n: This is for the btswritersclub February prompt 'dishonest love'. 

When you die, do you think you'll be able to go back to the time you were the happiest, and relive those moments forever? 

Or if there's a life after this one, maybe it'll be another chance at happiness with the person who satisfies your soul completely.

Either way, your mind only sees one person behind your eyelids. And replays one moment…

Your bare breasts shine from the orange light of the fire, bathing you in a golden glow as you watch his soft, gentle lips cascade slowly down your body. Every part of your flesh he meets, sings under his touch and creates a pathway of goosebumps, leading him onward.

"You're so beautiful," Jimin whispers against you, an involuntary shiver vibrating down your spine.

You smile at his words, fingers smoothing the hair from his eyes so you can see him. His intense stare, so full of love and adoration makes your heart ready to burst in your chest, pouring emotion singing his name at full force.

His fingers are on you and in you, manoeuvring in a way only he can, knowing your body and pleasing you in ways that make your back arch and your toes curl. Your fingernails find anchorage in the soft pile rug beneath you as you ground yourself from floating away, as the feel of his hot, wet mouth on you is enough to tip you into the abyss.

When your quaking body eases under his touch, he climbs slowly up your body, his lips journey upward leaving a trail of wet prints behind him.

You pull him into a fiery kiss, tongues dancing a heated rumba. The taste of you on his mouth brings fresh heat straight to your core.

You have never felt more free and more happy than in this moment. You do not allow yourself to think about tomorrow. You want to drink in everything about this night.

"Run away with me," he whispers. 

His words are exactly what you long to hear and what you long to do.

"You know I can't." You stroke the side of his face, the curve of his cheek fitting perfectly in your palm.

"You can. Forget about what your duty is. Forget about your father. Live for yourself."

A sad laugh escapes you. "If only it was that simple."

He sits up, pulling you up with him. "It can be! Come away with me. We can go anywhere you want. Your dad won't find us, we can just live our life." 

Tears sting your eyes as hope overwhelms you. Could it be possible? To live your life freely with him and forget about everything else? 

"Please, choose me and I swear I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you as happy as you make me."

The desperate plea in his eyes has you melting and in this moment you truly believe it's possible.

You nod as he responds with a heart stopping beam, one that has you weak and wanting to do everything in your power to make sure it keeps dazzling you.

His hands capture the sides of your face, lips moving against yours, pouring every ounce of love into this kiss.

You make love on the rug in the firelight until the early hours of the morning. He draws his name from your lips more than once and you relish in being able to say it so freely. You've had a taste of freedom with him and you know you can't go back now.

"Pack a bag. Meet me at the old oak tree on the edge of town at noon?"

You nod as he strokes your face with his thumb, bringing you the most amount of comfort from such a tiny action.

As he sneaks out through your window, your heart leaves with him, feeling safe and loved in the warmth of his embrace.

You watch until the dark night captures him completely from your sight.

You and him forever, how it's meant to be. Could your dream become a reality?

You race to fetch your bag and begin shoving clothes and your most prized possessions in every crevice.

A knock on your door has you frozen in place before shoving your bag under your bed in time to see your mother’s face peer in.

"I thought I saw your light on," she says sweetly as she steps in, closing the door behind her. "Wedding day jitters?" she asks. 

You nod automatically, guilt already threatening to boil over inside you.

"I thought as much. I was the same when I married your father." She walks over, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, patting the space beside her. You do as she asks, as usual, and take a seat.

"Let me tell you something, and I want you to listen to every word." Her eyes blaze into yours, the sweet, cheery side gone, leaving you with only the intimidating and menacing side that made your stomach turn and your palms sweat.

"Before I married your father, I was in love with a boy. Handsome, charming, caring, adventurous, everything I'd ever wanted in a man, everything I could have hoped for. We had a very passionate relationship and we were seeing each other right up until the night before my wedding. That night he asked me to run away with him."

Your eyes pop but you dare not speak before she's finished.

"I wanted to, lord knows how often I still think about that moment but I chose not to follow my heart but to follow my duty, that's what matters the most, dear. I wouldn't have this wonderful life with my lovely dresses, my jewels, our cars, our boats, everything. I'd be a peasant, living the simple life. Is that what you want?" She raises a sharp eyebrow in your direction and you swallow the lump of fear in your throat. 

You want him, you'd gladly give up everything else but you dare not say those words out of fear of the consequences.

She sighs. "I know it's hard, believe me, giving up what you love and desire the most is not easy but it is worth it. Kim Namjoon can give you everything your father gives me. That's all I want for you, dear."

You don't miss the silent earning she's giving you as she stands and heads for the door.

"Because I love you, I'll give you the chance to make this right. Send a message to Park Jimin, telling him why you must marry Kim Namjoon and that he must leave you alone, and I will spare his meaningless little life." She shuts the door behind her, leaving you with a thick silence that grabs your throat and suffocates you.

Your dream is slipping away through your fingers as you grapple at it, attempting to keep it.

You want to run to him now. To grab him and never let go. You wish you could protect him but you can't. 

Seeing his face in your mind, you clutch your chest and let the sobs wrack your body. The love of your life further away than you could have imagined.

You want to run to him, to escape with him now but you dare not put him in any more danger, knowing he must already be being watched by your father’s people.

You were trapped, a prisoner in your own home, in your own life, destined to follow you mother’s footsteps and be the wife of a mob boss, enslaved in a loveless marriage forever. 

That is your destiny. As much as you want to believe differently, you have no choice. You couldn't risk Jimin's life for your selfish wants. He is more important than anything, he deserves to be happy with someone freely.

You sit at your desk and pour all of the love you have left in your words on the paper, printed forever for him to look back on, knowing you sealed your heart in the envelope just for him. Letting him know this sacrifice isn't an easy one and that he will have your heart for eternity and beyond. Begging him not to come and save you as the idea of a world where he isn't living could not keep you too.

You print the wax seal and scrawl his name across the front before letting your tears escape freely until you're lulled into a painful and restless sleep.

You snap out of the memory of last night and stare at your reflection in your long, ornate wedding gown, not a hair out of place, the perfect makeup concealing bags and red rimmed eyes.

You go through the motions of getting ready on autopilot, all noise fading into the background, everyone around you passing in a blur. You feel numb at the prospect of what you're about to do. 

You'd sent one of your fathers errand boys off with your letter, telling him exactly where Jimin would be. You can't bear to think of what his reaction will be when he reads it, you don't want to imagine the heartbreak your words will cause, you are already dealing with enough of your own.

In no time at all you are at the cathedral in the lobby, flowers in hand and desperately holding back the tears you feel burning behind your eyelids. 

"You look beautiful, darling," your father whispers as he intertwines your arm with his.

The empty pit in your chest that used to house your heart is throbbing with grief and mourning at the life you're entering and for the one you're leaving behind.

You take a deep breath and steel yourself as the large, oak double doors open and you're faced with the sea of guests turning back to admire you.

At the end of the aisle you see him, the stern, expressionless Kim Namjoon. Soon to be your husband. Looking at you with utter...indifference. As if you were nothing more than a simple business deal. Which is exactly what you are to him. You look away from his unrelenting, icy stare.

Thankful for the veil, concealing your true feelings behind the mesh fabric.

You glance at the faces you walk past, most people are here because of your parents, they're people you've never met or who you hardly know.

A familiar set of crescent eyes and plump lips draw your attention, capturing all your focus immediately as your stomach drops.

Jimin.

Your Jimin.

All you want to do is run to him, but you dare not falter and draw attention to him. How did he even get in?

Why is he here?

He moves slowly along the row towards you, panic seizing your organs and squeezing them in an alarming grip.

Your breath hitches in your throat and as it leaves your lips in a rush, your father follows your gaze and spots him. 

Everything stops. Everyone looks around to him and all you can hear is the hushed chatter of the people around you.

You can't bear to tear your eyes away from him as all he does is offer you that breathtaking smile that makes you believe in gods, and angels and everything in between.

You shut your eyes tight wanting to keep that image burned in your mind and not wishing to see whatever is about to happen next...

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[spencers-dria]

Meet Me in the Woods

Someone To Stay Ch. 7

Spencer x fem reader

After dinner, the guys and girls split up into their separate rooms, taking turns in the showers. After you finished washing up, you put on some red, plaid pajama pants, a black tank top, and a pair of slippers that looked like bear paws. You made your way into the kitchen, where Rossi was cleaning up.

"You didn't happen to bring marshmallows, did you?" You ask, eyebrows raised.

"You read my mind, kid." Rossi gives you a wink as he hands you a bag, already full of everything you need.

While he finishes, cleaning you make your way outside. All you can hear is the sound of crickets and the wind in the trees. It's like music to your ears, so peaceful. You walk across the back patio that overlooks the lake, heading towards the fire pit. Sitting on one of the log benches, you start to pull out all the supplies you need. After gathering some kindling, you start a fire in the stone fire pit, giving it a poke here and there to help get it going. Within a few minutes, the fire has grown to a decent size, and you can feel it's warmth from your seat.

It's not long before the doors open and the rest of the group joins you, gathering around the fire. Everyone grabs a skewer and starts roasting their marshmallows. Derek gets a little over eager with the fire and keeps burning his, so JJ has to help him out. The chocolate Rossi brought to use isn't plain Hershey's, but instead it's Ghirardli chocolate with different fillings like caramel or raspberry! These have to be some of the best s'mores you've ever tasted.

Once everyone is snacking on their s'mores, you hear Spencer speak up. "Alright! Who wants to hear a ghost story?"

The group lets out some claps and cheers for him.

You watch as his face changes and he lets the group get quiet as he sets the mood for the story. He pulls a candle out from somewhere behind his seat and lights it in the fire. He holds it in front of his face as he begins to speak, but stops when he hears a snicker. He turns and gives you a serious look.

"I'm so sorry!" You and JJ both giggle, trying to pull yourselves together. "It's just really funny watching you take this so seriously."

He rolls his eyes at you, but you swear you almost see a smile. He tries to get back in character before starting.

"In Fredericksburg, Virginia...there is a hospital that would seem completely normal to most people. But to anyone who has been a patient on the 4th floor, they know better." He uses overly dramatic inflection in his voice, which only makes it more humorous.

"Really Spencer...the hospital where I work?"

He stops again, turning to you. "You know what ghosts really hate? People who interrupt. That's right! And they're coming for you next." He gives you a shove, and neither of you can keep a straight face anymore. You're both laughing, trying to catch your breath.

"Hey! I want to hear the rest of the story!" Penelope pipes up.

"Oh please he's just making it up as he goes along. It's not even that scary." You joke, playfully.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that, but I think we all know who did hear it..." he says in his spookiest voice. "Anyways! Like I said, the 4th floor is haunted. Patients who stay in rooms 26  and 27 have reported seeing a young boy and young girl. They say the girl always asks them if they want to play with her ball. Other patients have said they can hear a ball bouncing in the hallway in the latest hours of the night."

You shift, a bit uneasy in your seat. This was starting to sound familiar. It reminded you of stories you had heard from coworkers...but how would he know about this? You normally aren't spooked easily, but as Spencer continues, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

He continues the story. "They say the only people they really go after are the staff. They wait until their guard is down, the sneak up behind them, and..."

"GOTCHA!" You jump up from your seat as someone grabs you from behind.

You look down to see Derek Morgan, bent over with laughter, tears in his eyes. Spencer is laughing just as hard, if not harder. The rest of the team joins in, and after your nerves settle, so do you.

"You planned this didn't you?!" You yell at the two of them, trying to stifle a laugh and be serious.

The pair of them still laughing too hard to even  speak. You have your answer.

"Well that's enough fun for me. I'm headed to bed, anyone else?" Rossi gets up and everyone else joins him, heading inside.

When you step inside, you grab your green, plaid, wool blanket off the couch and carry it back out to the patio. Everyone is already getting ready for bed, so no one notices. You spread it out on the deck and turn off the porch light. You finally lay down on your back, looking straight up at the night sky. You could see a few stars from where you live, but out here there are more than you could ever count. It looks like pixie dust, spread across a deep abyss of black. You take a deep breath in, smelling the forest. For you, it doesn't get any better than this.

You soon hear the patio door open and close, followed by footsteps. You see Spencer standing over you, looking down at you with curiosity. He's changed into purple PJ pants and a Star Wars shirt.

"Whatcha doin?"

"Taking it all in." You smile up at him.

"Mind if I join?"

You scoot over, making extra room as you pat the spot next to you on the blanket.

You let out a long sigh, feeling completely content and relaxed. "I don't know what it is, about space, the stars, the galaxy...but I have always been so mesmerized by all of it. Part of me just appreciates how beautiful it is and part of me appreciates how it is all so much bigger than me. It's beyond what I can ever wrap my head around. There's nothing I wouldn't do to one day take a trip up there."

"Do you know the story of Perseus?" Spencer asks before explaining. He's learned not to underestimate your random knowledge as well.

"Believe it or not, I do actually."

Spencer smiles to himself. "I'm not surprised. Anyways, so there is Cephus at the top, Cassiopeia below him to the right, then Andromeda, and finally Perseus at the bottom left."

Your face twist in confusion. You don't see any of it, but you're too embarrassed to admit this, so you nod as if you see them. You sometimes forget what Spencer does for his job. He scoots closer to you to share your line of vision. He then looks at you and smiles before grabbing your hand and directing your pointer finger along the path of each constellation.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" You ask him.

"What is?"

"All of it. The stars, the trees, the sounds, the smells...it's perfect." You close your eyes feeling completely at peace in this moment.

You don't see Spencer roll his head to look at you.

"Yeah, really beautiful." He responds.

You feel your body relaxing and slipping away from the moment as you fall closer towards sleep. The next thing you know you feel arms slipping underneath you and lifting you from the ground. Mostly asleep, you absent-mindedly wrap your arms around the figure carrying you. You feel your body being carried up and then tucked underneath you bed comforter. Your eyes flit open for only a moment. Through the thick darkness you barely make out Spencer's outline climbing back down the ladder and quietly slipping out of the room. This is the last thing you see before you are awoken by the scent of smokey bacon.

You open your eyes and look around the room to see all three other ladies are still fast asleep. Sunlight is dripping into the room from between the curtains. You carefully make your way down from your top bunk and tip toe out of the room, trying to avoid any squeaky wooden floorboards.

When you finally reach the kitchen, you are surprised to see Hotch cooking breakfast. He's smiling and flipping pancakes at the stove. You haven't known  him very long, but this is still not something you would have expected from him.

"Goodmorning" you yawn, rubbing your eyes and adjusting to the sunlight flooding in from the large kitchen windows.

"Morning!" he beamed. "Care for some pancakes?"

"Pancakes sound wonderful, thanks! Need any help?"

"You can set the table if you don't mind."

"Not at all! Happy to help," You give him a smile as you start to pull place settings out from the cabinets.

"So, pancakes from scratch...where did you learn that?"

He lets out a small chuckle. "Rossi's not the only one who can cook ya know. Truthfull though, I learned a lot from my wife Haley. She was a great mom, and a wonderful cook." He smiles as he seems to get caught up in a memory, but you can here the sadness lacing his tone.

You can't help but inquire. "Was?"

He looks down at the bacon he is now grilling, avoiding eye contact as he continues.

"She was my ex wife for only a little while before she was killed. It was a serial killer that the team should have...that I should have caught." He has stopped cooking and is now gripping the counter infant of him, as though he was trying to keep himself from falling over.

You may not know him well, but your job had made you fairly comfortable with talking to people dealing with situations such as this, so you decide to approach him. You place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, that you and your son have had to go through that. No one should ever be put through that much trauma. But I can tell its made you really strong. And your son, he's lucky to have a dad who cares so much about him and keeps him safe."

Hotch takes a deep breath before continuing his cooking as he flips a few pieces of bacon and pours another pancake. He then turns to you and gives a warm genuine smile.

"Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate it, truly. We have all been through a lot. And I'm not the only one who's lost someone because of this job..."

He trails off when you expected him to continue. There was something about the way he said that last part that made you believe he wanted to say more. Could he be talking about Spencer? Who did he lose? What happened to them? When did it happen?

Questions start to flood your mind but are quickly pushed to the back as the rest of the team starts to make their way into the kitchen for breakfast.

Everyone is talking about their plans for the day. So you turn to Spencer.

"I have something fun planned, if you're willing to trust me."

He raises his eyebrows, intrigued.

"Well I trusted you yesterday and I turned out okay" he laughs.

"Well it's definitely more laid back, even relaxing. If you want you can even bring a book."

He puts his elbows on the table and leans forward on his hands. You've clearly peaked his interest.

"Ok you've won me over. What is it?"

"A surprise." You smile as you grab both of your empty plates and bring them to the sink to wash them off.

"Well can you at least tell me what I need to wear for this?"

You take a minute to think.

"Definitely sun screen and probably something can get a little bit wet or dirty and also some sturdy shoes."

You both make your way to your rooms to get ready. You find the other three ladies already getting dressed and packed for their planned activities.

Alex is getting ready to go on a hike with Rossi and Hotch. JJ and Morgan are taking some rental jet skis out on the lake. Penny will be relaxing on her float again.

You put on a grey tank with an open, oversized navy flannel, some grey khaki shorts, and chacos . You grab your north face backpack and head to the kitchen to sort through the snacks. The backpack gets filled with granola bars, fresh fruit, cashews, and water bottles.

As you are finishing up, Spencer makes his way out of his room. He's in a half zip grey long sleeve, khaki shorts and tennis shoes. It doesn't look ah all like something he'd usually wear.

"Nice outfit" you smile at him.

"Oh uhh thanks, I borrowed the shirt from Hotch and the shorts aren't something I usually wear, but I brought them on the trip just in case." He seems to be blushing a bit. You feel bad, thinking you've must have embarrassed him.

"No really though, the outdoors look, it works for you." You elbow him as you giggle. The blush on his face turns a dark shade of red. Maybe he's really not used to getting told he looks good. This seems a bit crazy to you. He's ridiculously attractive. So much so that you brushed off any possibility of anything happening the night you met him. Spencer was just a friend, and that's exactly what you needed.

You throw on your back pack and lead the two of you out the glass doors and down the patio steps. You make your way further away from the cabin until the only thing left surrounding the two of you are trees.

The two of you walk for a couple minutes in a comfortable silence. You take in the sound of leaves crunching under your feet, wind in the trees, birds chirping. You look up to see sunlight streaming through the leaves of the trees above you. The path is covered by a canopy of green and gold. It's almost magical. You finally look over to see Spencer with a big smile on his face. He's looking around in awe. You have a feeling he doesn't do this sort of thing often.

"Wow" he breathes out. "It's so beautiful and calm. It's almost a bit..."

"Magical?" You interject. He looks down at you in surprise to see you smiling back up at him. He just smiles and nods.

You finally make your way to dock at the edge of the lake. You toss your back back into a red canoe tied up on the dock.

"We're going out on the lake?" He questions.

"Yeah is that okay?"

"Yeah that's ok. I've never actually been in a canoe before, I'm not sure how much help I'll be rowing."

"That's ok, Spencer. We're just here to relax and have fun" you reassure him.

You motion for him to step in first. You untie the boat from the dock push it off into the water as you jump in at the other end. You instruct him to turn around and face the front and hand him one paddle. You call out instructions to help him with pace and directions. After a couple minutes, he starts to get the hang of it. I mean, he has a PhD in engineering, you're not surprised.

Eventually, the boat is fairly far from shore and you both put down your paddles as he turns to face you. You reach into your backpack and pull out blankets to lay across the seats. Then you pull out the snacks and the water.

"A picnic on the lake, huh?" He gives a slight chuckle.

"Yeah" you shrug. "A bit cheesy, I know."

"It's perfect." He glances up at you with a genuine toothy grin on his face. He looks really happy. When you see this you can't help the ever growing smile on your face.

"What gave you this idea?" he asks as he starts munching on some cashews and grapes.

"Well, I love hiking, I love the water, and you already know I love food. So why not combine all three? Plus, there's just something really therapeutic about being in a boat out on the water, rowing, the only sound is your paddle in the water."

"Well I hope you don't mind, I brought something. I didn't know what we'd be doing, but I thought it might come in handy. Um it's not mine and Derek had to show me how to set it up. It's probably stupid anyways."

"I wanna see!" You give him a light shove on the shoulder.

He reaches into the backpack he brought and pulls out a Bluetooth speaker. Next he pulls out his phone and you hear the beep as it connects. You're incredibly intrigued at this point. The next thing you know, you hear the hear the gentle harmonica and acoustic guitar as "Ghost on the Shore" by Lord Huron fills the air around you.

You lean back on your hands, tears threaten to fill the brims of your eyes.

"Spencer... this is really, really sweet. How did you even find this song?"

"I noticed you looking at some of their music in that coffee shop with the music store. I listened to a little bit, and I really liked this song. I figured you would too."

"It's one of my favorites."

The two of you spend more time listening to music,

snacking, and just taking in the beauty of the nature around you. Way off in the distance you hear laughter and can see JJ and Derek racing around on their jet skis. You decide to head back and join the others, music still sounding from the speaker tucked into a side pocket of his backpack. "Meet Me in the Woods" echoes through the trees as you hike back towards the cabin together. Today had turned out even better than you ever could have planned.

#Spotify