#I got mad because this one short didn’t go into detail about how this guy killed this woman

[ijwrsmff]

hii<3 can we get a buggy x reader hurt/comfort where buggy accidentally hurts reader but makes up for it with something sweet so just (again) a lot of fluff at the end~ (i loved your other writing for buggy 🩷)

THANK YOUUUUUUU! That Buggy post got a lot of love, I'm so happy people like Buggy as much as I do XD

Mentions of blood, but no details.

Word Count: 1,407

A party was a party! Everyone on Buggy’s crew were drinking, singing, breaking bottles, and just all around being wild animals. You were no exception to that, having downed a few drinks yourself. Simply enjoying the party for what it was. What were you celebrating? You were sure there was a reason, but it seemed everyone forgot the second the booze was brought out. 

You hadn’t seen your captain in a while, but you weren’t too worried. He tended to get a little out of hand at these daily parties, always wanting to be the center of attention. He was pretty good at it too, with shows and jokes, a lot of clownery. 

After a while, you were pretty buzzed. Some of your other crewmates were absolutely shitfaced. Also not unexpected. Even Cabaji, who always drank less than the rest, was passed out on the ground with a half empty bottle in his hand. Another crewmate walked up to him with the intent to finish off the unfinished drink, but Cabaji clung to it even tighter and growled at the man. Literally. Growled. 

It was a pretty good time, but everyone started cheering when they saw Buggy climbing up to the crow’s nest. He could practically fly, but despite that fact, he was climbing. Clearly drunk out of his mind. Everyone could hear his cackling as he ascended, and finally reached the top. 

“HOW ARE MY FREAKS ENJOYING THIS LITTLE SIESTA! Or…was it fiesta…ESTA! THIS ESTA!” It made the few of you on the crew that even knew minimal amounts of spanish chuckle at the incorrect usage of the words. Everyone cheered regardless, and Buggy took one last swig of his now empty bottle and threw both his hands in the air. “TO…what are we celebrating again?” He looked deep in thought but the look was gone in an instant. “TO THE FUTURE KING OF THE PIRATES!” 

The cheering continued, and Buggy jumped up and down a couple times and tried to take a drink from the empty bottle. Obviously, there was nothing in it so he threw it down to the deck. However, luck was not on your side at that particular moment. Out of everyone on the crew, the bottle was flung directly to your face, breaking the bottle and possibly your nose at the same time. 

The shock caused you to fall down and remove any remaining glass from your face. It hurt, but you’ve felt worse. Mostly from marine battles, or even from other pirates. But the shock made it hurt even more. Somehow, you weren’t even as shocked as Buggy and the crew. There was complete and utter silence, and Buggy’s eyes were wide. 

Not wanting to ruin the party, you laughed with a wince, “Good throw captain! Right in the face!” It made some crewmates laugh loudly, and others just chuckle awkwardly. Especially knowing how the captain felt about you. They didn’t want to have a bottle thrown at their faces on PURPOSE! 

You stood and stretched, not wanting to show your pain in front of these guys. “Welp! I better go get cleaned up. TO THE FUTURE KING OF THE PIRATES!” You yelled with a laugh, and handed your drink to the closest crew member. They all cheered, and the party resumed. 

The walk to your room was short, but as you approached the door a hand stopped you. Just a hand. No body attached. There was only one person in the world who could do that, and you smiled until you turned and saw Buggy walking towards you with a way-too-serious face. For a brief moment you thought he was mad at you. 

“Captain? What’s wrong?” You said, and it made him smile for just a second. Of course you had a potentially broken nose because of him, and were still checking on him before yourself. “If it’s about my face, don’t worry about it. Remember when we were at that last island and fought the marines? Man, that one guy sure packed a punch!” And you laughed, but he didn’t laugh with you. 

“Shut up.” He said, and you flinched at the tone. “Come on.” He reattached his hand and walked towards his captain’s quarters. The walk was silent, and you had to wonder what you did wrong. You tried thinking of anything it could be, but you were drawing a blank. 

“Captain?” He pulled you into his room, and shoved you on the bed. You sat on the end with a confused face. “Captain?” You repeated, wondering what he was trying to do here. Why did he look so mad? “Seriously, the marines punch harder than any bottle, I’m fine re-”

He cut you off, “SHUT UP!” He grabbed something from his desk and returned to you. But this time…he looked broken. “I know the marines punch hard…but a marine didn’t do this. I did.” Buggy reached for your face with a rag, and began cleaning the blood off. It was quiet, and neither of you knew what to say. 

He cleaned the blood for a while, and groaned when one particular spot on your forehead kept bleeding. “I…” He said, but he looked more and more pained seeing the shape your face was in, “I’M SO SORRY!” He yelled and it made you jump at the sudden volume of his voice. 

“Captain…” You started, only to be cut off once again. 

“Not captain. We’re alone.” He peeled a shard of glass from your face, and threw it aside. He would surely step on it later, but that’s a problem for future Buggy. You almost tried to remove his hand from your face, but he glared to stop you. “I know you can do it your damn self, but I don’t care. I’m doing it.” 

“R-right. Sorry…Buggy.” It wasn’t necessarily a rule that you not call him Buggy in front of the crew, but he did tend to get flustered when you said it. He didn’t wanna show that weakness in front of the people he commanded. And even now, his face turned a bit pinker when he heard his name coming from your mouth. 

“I’m sorry…” He muttered, as he wrapped your head after cleaning up what he could. He didn’t apologize often, so it meant a lot to the both of you that he said it not once…but twice. 

“It’s okay…” You reached up and cradled his face, “I know you didn’t mean to.” With a heartwarming smile on your face, he felt compelled to smile back. “You’d never hurt me on purpose, I’m not upset. I promise.” And you put a hand to the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss his nose. 

Now his entire face was the same as his nose. “H-hey! Stop it!” He stuttered, and “tried” to pull away. He didn’t at all really want to, but he was trying to make it seem like he did. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you, w-stop!” He muttered as you continued to press kisses upon kisses to his face. 

“I’ll never stop!” And you playfully laughed, pressing kisses to his cheeks, nose, forehead, and lips. When you pulled back, he was pouting. “Awww! Buggy, you're so cute when you’re flustered!” Teasing him was just so fun. Especially because he tended to tease you back. 

“Shut up!” He ran a thumb over the bandage on your face and leaned down to kiss the bandage. Buggy tried to regain his composure, but it was shaky. “Hey…now maybe you’ll have a nose just like mine.” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully and you both laughed. 

“I’d love to have your nose. One of my favorite things about you!~” As you leaned up and kissed his lips. He melted. Absolutely melted. He kissed back with passion, and eventually pulled away to lift you up and place you at the head of the bed. He laid down with you, and pulled you into his arms under the covers. 

“Shut up. You’re hurt. So sleep. Brat.” Though he winked to show he wasn’t actually upset. Just concerned. He ran his hands across your back and massaged your scalp. “...I do…love you though.” And he buried his face in your neck so you couldn’t see his embarrassed face. 

“I love you too Buggy…thank you for taking care of me.” A yawn escaped, and you ended up falling asleep soon after. 

“And I always will. Always.” 

#opla buggy x reader #x reader #gn reader #one piece buggy x reader #one piece x reader #fluff #request #buggy one piece #buggy the clown #hurt/comfort #tw; injury #tw; blood

[softshrimpy]

How To Woo A Hot Principal

Step 9: Ask Her To Dance

Summary: Working at the weathervane was exactly what you needed. The routine, the people, your co-workers. It certainly helped that a certain tall, blonde, fucking gorgeous woman happened to frequent the cafe. Now some may call hopelessly flirting with your customers inappropriate behavior.

But truly, when it came to Larissa Weems, who could blame you?

Guys its a nice dance! Definitely not a chapter preceding deep plot building.🦐✨

Tags: @variant-2402 @the-bagel24 @eveymay @kimiinou @muffintopxs @h-doodles @bbykens @lilfartbox1 @bigolgay @winterfireblond

(pls let me know if you want to be tagged/ I missed you!)

Chapter 8

Cross Posted on AO3 here

HTWAHP Masterlist

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

“I’ll see you later love, have a great day!” You called over your shoulder as you exited Larissa’s office.

You close the door behind you, smiling to yourself. You’re about to make the trip to your car when you run into two of your favourite Nevermore students, Yoko and Enid. The two of them are standing in the hallway just outside Larissa’s office with their arms crossed, staring expectantly up at you.

“Uhm good morning?” You offer.

“Did you ask Principal Weems to the dance?” Enid asks, doing her best to give you what you assume is meant to be a stern expression.

“The dance…?”

“The Rave’N. It’s a dance happening this weekend. Ask her.” Yoko explains.

“I mean I need a few more details but-“

“You have to ask her now!!” Enid urges.

“But I-“

“Please!” Enid pleads, and goddamn it the puppy dog eyes are out again.

You sigh, wondering how you got to the point where teens dictate some of your actions. You turn around, knocking on Larissa’s door before poking your head through. She’s sitting at her desk with her cute glasses resting on her nose again. She glances up at you, obviously confused as to why you’re back so soon.

“Darling? Is everything alright?” She asks, pausing her typing.

“Do you uhm. Would you like to- I mean I ran into Enid and Yoko and they mentioned this dance that’s happening this weekend and I was just wondering if you’d like to go with me?” You ask, suddenly nervous as fuck.

“Dear, are you talking about the Rave’N?” She replies.

“Uhm yeah? Should I not be…?”

“No, no, it’s just…we host the dance and I usually attend only as a chaperone. I wouldn’t want to force you to come along just for me to spend all evening breaking up troublesome teenagers.” She explains.

You make your way over to her, spinning her chair so that she’s facing you. She helps at the movement, looking up at you in confusion. You grab both of her hands before getting down on one knee. Now she’s really looking at you as if you’ve gone mad.

“Larissa Weems, it would be my honour to accompany you on an evening of breaking up horny teens and drinking punch.” You state, grinning up at her.

She takes you in, kneeling in front of her and looking up at her with so much adoration. She pulls you up and onto her lap, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, then another to your chin, and another to your nose.

“You’re far too adorable darling” she smiles, resting her forehead against yours.

“Is that a yes?” You grin, wrapping your arms around her neck and breathing her in.

“I suppose…” she hums.

You giggle, pressing a kiss to her forehead before standing from your place on her lap. You all but skip to the door.

“I’ll pick you up at 7 sharp,” you say, shorting her finger guns.

“It starts at 6 darling.” She chuckles, “And it’s on Saturday. You’ll want to wear something white.”

“5:45 it is my fair lady!” You amend, blowing her a kiss as you leave.

——————

You and Larissa made more solid arrangements later in the week. She had explained she would be checking the hall before the dance so it would be better for you to meet her there.

You decided to get her a corsage (because you were fucking in love with her and didn’t care if it was cheesy.) It had an assortment of white flowers in it, you really hope Larissa likes it.

You arrive at the dance about a few minutes early, making your way into the venue while marvelling at the decor. You look around the hall, remembering how Enid had explained the theme was “climate crisis meets extinction event, but in a fun way”, which you’re getting from the abundance of white and fake icicles in places.

However, your admiration of the room is cut short when you spot Larissa. She’s just finishing speaking with the DJ, giving you ample opportunity to stare at her like the work of art she is. She’s wearing a silver calf-length dress, with sleeves coming just over her elbows. She’s paired it with a pair of white gloves that are giving you terribly inappropriate thoughts(you’ll revisit those later). She’s still wearing her signature red lipstick and her hair up, although the style is a bit more intricate than usual. She looks ethereal, breathtaking, awe-inspiring.

By the time you realize you’ve forgotten how to breathe Larissa is making her way over to you, sporting the most dazzling smile. You manage to resume human functioning just as she comes to a stop in front of you. She looks you up and down, taking her sweet time and making your face flush.

“You look amazing. Like, I genuinely forgot how to breathe when I saw you amazing.” You blurt out.

You nearly squeal when she blushes and opens and closes her mouth at your words. You reach up to cup her face and press a chaste kiss on her blushing cheek, grinning up at her like the lovesick gay you are.

“Oh! I got you something,” you exclaim, “here!”

You offer her the corsage, watching her face to try and gauge her reaction. She stares at it, her face giving away nothing which makes you backtrack in case she hates it.

“It’s. I-it was a silly idea. You don’t have to wear it, I can just uhm throw it away. We can just forget I even brought it.” You ramble, lowering the corsage.

She stops you, staring down at the little assortment of flowers.

“Would you help me put it on?” She asks in the softest voice.

You nod, smiling up at her as she holds out her hand for you. You slip the corsage over her wrist, adjusting it to sit just right before squeezing her hand. Her eyes are sparkling, bright with emotion, one that looks almost like…love?

She opens her mouth to speak when you hear a gaggle of teens arrive, taking Larissa’s attention. She glances at them and then back at you, a conflicted look on her face. You squeeze her hands before nodding in the direction of the students.

“Go on, go be the sexy principal you are.” You chuckle.

She sends you a bright smile before heading off to greet the arriving students. You make your way over to the punch table, grabbing yourself a drink while watching Larissa as she chats with the students. She looks so proud and happy, and t warms your heart.

You eventually make your way back to Larissa’s side, essentially attaching yourself to her hip from that point on. She doesn’t seem to mind, in fact, she keeps shooting you the cutest looks between greeting the kids. When Enid arrives (with some boy who you vaguely recognize) she all but squeals at the two of you. The two go off to get drinks(something they’re calling yeti-tini’s which you find rather cute).

“I really thought she would be coming with Wednesday…” you murmur.

“Mmm…I think it will take them a bit of time for those two to stop dancing around their feelings,” she hums.

“At least we figured things out pretty quickly.” You deadpan, earning a snort from Larissa.

The rest of the night goes pretty smoothly. Wednesday shows up sporting a lovely black dress, with Tyler of all people (he’s a lovely kid but you do not see the chemistry there.) You and Larissa are gossiping about the different students when Marylin comes up to you.

“The place looks pretty great! I don’t know what the other Rave’ns have been like but I think we outdid ourselves.” She grins.

“You both really did do an amazing job.” You comment.

“Larissa, you went to school here, didn’t you? Do you remember being filled with joy and hope during your Rave’n?” She asks.

Larissa’s face falls a bit and she glances away from Marylin to look back over the sea of teens.

“All I really remember is disappointment…” she starts, “The girl I asked turned me down for someone else. Gomez Addams, in fact.”

“Wednesday’s father?” Marylin asks.

You’re smart enough to put two of two together and figure out Wednesday's mother is probably the ex-paramour she had mentioned a while back. You can’t help but wonder what on earth possessed her to turn down Larissa. I mean she was a walking-talking goddess.

However, you don’t think to much about it due to Larissa’s downright sad expression. Marylin heads off to go keep an eye on the punch bowl, leaving the two of you alone again.

You grab her hand, tugging her along behind you as you weave through the crowd. Larissa follows you, confused. You lead her into a nearby classroom, close enough that the music can still be heard.

“Darling, I do hope this is not an attempt to seduce me in a dark classroom.” She laughs. “We really should get back to chaperoning-“

You turn around and shush her with a finger on her lips. She stares down at you, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. You grab her hands and place them on your waist then wrap your arms around her shoulders. You start swaying gently, smiling up at her.

“I wanted to ask you to dance but thought doing that in front of a bunch of gossip-hungry teens might not be the best idea.” You explain.

She stares down at you, shocked before letting out a laugh. She shakes her head at you, swaying along to the muffled music.

“Alright, but just one song.” She hums.

“One song with a literal angel? I’ll take it.” You grin.

She rolls her eyes at you, smiling that cute little smile she has. She truly looks like an angel, all dressed in white with her sparkling blue eyes. She truly is the most gorgeous woman in the whole world.

You grab one of her hands and lift it over her head, stepping up onto your tip toes. She looks down at you, amused but ducks under your admittedly low arm in an awkward twirl anyway.

“I’d try to dip you but honestly I have the upper body strength of a twig.” You joke.

She laughs at that, a bright, loud sound that makes your heart flutter and your brain turns to mush. You don’t think you’ll ever tire of making her laugh and smile like that. You want to spend the rest of your life making her happy.

You slow your swaying as the song ends, beaming up at the dazzling blonde.

“Thank you for this darling…” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I know it doesn’t make up for your shitty dance,” you start, “but I would’ve killed myself if I didn’t get at least one dance with the prettiest girl at the dance.”

Despite the darkness of the classroom you manage to make out the blush on her cheeks. You stretch up and press a kiss to her lips. You move to settle back off of your tip toes when she chases after you, biting down on your lower lip. She wraps her arms around you, pulling you flush against her body. You moan into the kiss, allowing her tongue to lick into your mouth. Eventually, she pulls back, pressing one last kiss to your lips. You stare up at her smug, beautiful face, mouth agape.

“What- what was that for?” You breathe.

She simply grins down at you and shrugs, looking far too magnificent for your self-control.

“I’ll see you back inside then.” She hums, using her thumb to wipe some smudged lipstick from your face. “Maybe take a moment to…compose yourself hm?”

And with that, she saunters away, leaving you gaping and flushed in the dark classroom. You decide to go to the bathroom to “compose yourself” as Larissa so aptly put it.

“And she told me not to seduce her in a dark classroom, Gods above.” You murmur.

You’re making your way back from the bathroom when you bump into Yoko, the two of you stopping to chat for a bit. The two of you talk for a long while, she was telling you about all the gossip going on (which you found far more entertaining than you’d ever admit). The two of you are in the middle of discussing the Enid-Wednesday situation when you hear a scream from the direction of the dance.

You both exchange a look before bolting towards the commotion. When you reach the hall you notice groups of red, drenched students running out the doors. When you get inside you notice everything is covered in what you’re praying is red paint. You quickly locate Larissa, who’s standing in the middle of the mess looking both extremely pissed off and close to tears.

You quickly make your way over to her, doing your best to avoid getting too damp. You take her hands, doing your best to help her calm down while making your way out of the ruined dance.

You get back to her quarters and help her change out of the red-stained dress(thank god it was paint and not blood). You get her to take a shower and change into more comfy clothes, telling her you’ll help her sort out all the cleanup and sort everything out.

She’s almost calmed down a bit when her office door is thrown open. You’re about to fight whoever it is when you realize it’s a very freaked-out Yoko.

“Yoko what on earth-“ you start.

“Wednesday ran off into the woods. I overheard her talking to Tyler about it and he said he’s called his dad.” She interrupts.

“What? Why would he call sheriff-“

“It’s Eugene.” Yoko breathes. “He’s been attacked.”

#HTWAHP #larissa x reader #larissa weems x reader #wednesday #larissa weems

[falloutjuli]

MORE JOHNNY CONTENT. I got mad brainrot so yeah, I can’t stop writing for him. This time I wanted something comforting, so this came to be. Just casually 5k words of Johnny and reader being two depressed fucks that form a cute friendship and then more.

Fall Out Boy title reference because I can. Try to stop me, I’ll wait here.  

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

Johnny x suicidal!Reader - The Kids aren’t alright. 

Wordcount: 5,4K

Short summary: MODERN AU - While you contemplate jumping off a bridge, you meet a peculiar guy who keeps you grounded. Through time, you turn from strangers to friends to more than words can describe.

Warnings: Mention of suicide, depression, self-hatred, all that Jazz. Gyro and you bully Johnny.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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

Your hands gripped the iron railing harder, the metal warm underneath your touch by now. You gaze at the water underneath you, how it taunts you with its flow and the reflecting lights. It looks inviting and yet you can't bring your body to jump over the railing to become one with the water. A sigh escaped your lips as you thought this over. 

In theory, everything was set. This wasn't your first time at this bridge after all. The letter was written, all affairs in order and yet, despite the set up, you felt not ready. So, you just kept staring, going through the dark thoughts that brought you here. A tear escaped your eye, and it would remain only one, you lacked the energy to actually cry at this point. 

"Contemplating suicide?" A voice asked behind you. Your expression soured and without looking away from the water underneath you answered the person who dared to disturb you. 

"If you're gonna ask me to fuck you since I'm gonna ef myself off anyways then do me a favor and jump over the railing yourself." You spat. It wasn't the first time some guy tried to get a pity fuck simply because they assumed you were gonna kill yourself. 

"I wasn't gonna ask for such a thing, but even if then I'd need your help to get over the railing." You turned your head you were met by sapphire blue eyes that looked similarly tired to yours. The guy those gorgeous eyes belonged to sat in a wheelchair, so that's probably why he couldn't make the jump himself.

"Sorry." You said dryly, wiping the tear away that had escaped your eye earlier. "Normally the strangers that wanna speak to me here are perverts." "That sucks." He simply shrugged and now the two of you were staring at the water.

 "Contemplating suicide?" You asked him the same question as he did to you. "Mhm." Was the simply hummed answer. "Life just sucks huh?" You struck up a conversation, unsure why exactly. Everyone else in your life you were trying to push away, yet him you invited to a conversation. 

"Yeah, tell me all about it." A moment of silence passed. "For how long?" 

"Pretty much since I was a kid. I have a pretty shit father. And you?" The boy casually mentioned. It was a strange situation, but you felt somewhat comfortable, so you didn’t mind talking to him more. "Teenage years. Then it was better for a while but now all I mainly do is sit in my apartment all day and think about ending it."  

"You're copying my life story? How rude for someone who just told me to jump over the railing." The boy joked next to you, and you chuckled. "That's the first time in a while that I was able to laugh at something." You said and let go of the railing. "Glad to help." 

You two turned to face each other and take in every detail. The guy was good looking, those eyes were absolutely stunning despite the sorrow they held, golden hair that poked out from under his beanie and framed his face in a beautiful way. A bright blue hoodie with stars for a top and casual sweatpants with vans for bottom. 

You wondered if he inspected you so thoroughly too and judging by his eyes wandering over you he might. 

"Thank you." You said, unsure if he'd get it but going by the faint smile on his lips he did. "No, thank you." And with that, you each turned to get going home. -------

With heavy steps you made your way to the space you dreaded and loved at the same time. 

You had been away for a week. But today it was too much again and so you returned to probably stare at the water again, pussy out and then go home to continue lying in bed. A heavy sigh was let out and you took a deep breath of the cold night air. Just as you were almost at your usual spot you saw the guy from a week ago. 

He was next to the bench in his wheelchair, staring out at the city. You contemplated turning around, not wanting to bother him or anything, but your sluggish steps dragged you to the bench in the end to plop down next to him. "Hey." "Hey." You two greeted each other as if you were friends. In reality, you didn't even know each other's names. 

"Rough week?" He asked and turned to look at you. "Doesn't even begin to describe it. Judging you're here yours was shit too?" He nodded. A moment of silence passed. 

"I don't know whether or not to be glad to have met you again. Because while I like talking to you... Meeting here, at this place at this time of night..." You knew what he was implying. 

"Meeting here is bad, because it means we are here to do something else originally." He hummed in approval. "What's your name?" You finally asked him. "Johnny." 

"Y/N." You answered before he needed to ask. Now you sat there in silence. "Do you have therapy?" You eventually asked him. "Yeah. I have to otherwise I'm sure my friend would kill me. "Sounds adorable."

 "He's a good friend, but I feel like he doesn't really know what's going on in me." "I know what you mean." You mumbled and thought about your friends who had claimed to be there for you only to immediately turn once you weren't happy go lucky. You two fell in silence again. A comfortable one. -----

  Weeks passed. Sometimes you were alone at the bridge. Sometimes by coincidence, Johnny was there too. You had learned quite a lot about each other by now. Johnny is a university student. Before that he was a jockey and a good one at that. 

But an incident which he didn’t want to elaborate on, left him paralyzed from the waist down, which ended his career prematurely. He comes from money but has cut ties with his family and now lives with his best friend, an Italian medical student. 

You also told him about yourself, your home life, which also wasn't the best, how you were now living alone in a tiny apartment to try to fix your life but that didn't work out so now you continuously came to this bridge to end it all. Johnny did it because he struggled massively with his depression and self-hatred. Meeting him had already become the best thing in your life because talking to him grounded you, made you feel valuable. Like you mattered to someone. Today when you came to your usual spot it was empty. Nothing surprising, Johnny and you never agreed on times to meet, it was by coincidence. Yet when you reached the bench, you normally sat on next him there was a paper taped to it. "-⭐ 559-xxx-xxxx "

The star. Johnny wore stars on his clothing and beanie regularly and his last name was Joestar so potentially... He left the note here earlier for you to have his number? Nervously you got your phone out and typed the number in to shoot him a message. "You're lucky I found it." Not too long after a message came in. "Y/N?" "No, the pervert who found your message. Yes of course it's me." "Thank God. I was nervous once I got home you might not come today, and the note would get destroyed." "You're a lucky one." You typed and decided to walk back home already. "I know I am. How are you?" ------

The next time you met Johnny was on his home turf. 

You had texted with him a good chunk before, and he invited you over to his place. To say you were curious and nervous was an understatement. You'd meet Gyro, the Italian Johnny lived with, see his apartment, and room and deepen the strange friendship you two had.

It was a weird feeling, since you had previously only meet on a bridge both of you wanted to jump off to end your life. You pressed the doorbell nervously and waited a few seconds before a tall, blond man opened the door. He had long beautiful hair and shining green eyes with a flashy smile thanks to the gold grills. 

"Gyro I assume." You said, somewhat intimidated, unsure how to carry yourself. You offered your hand and Gyro pulled you into, giving you a friendly hug, making you almost trip over in the process. 

"So, you're the bridge friend! It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you, Johnny talks a lot about you!" Gyro proclaimed and your blood ran cold. Did Gyro know? "Johnny is over in his room, second door to the left. I'm busy cooking for us tonight, so I'll catch you in a bit yeah?" 

Gyro had something about him that made you feel comfortable despite everything. His energy and smile were a little infectious and you could easily tell why Johnny liked him. "Thank you. Good luck with the cooking." "I don't need luck, it's in my blood." He grinned, before disappearing in the kitchen. You grabbed your backpacks strap a little tighter before you went to Johnny's room, knocking before you entered. 

You didn't know what you thought his room would look like, but it certainly wasn't like this. White Ikea furniture, a big desk with his wheelchair in front of it. On it a high-tech computer. Big wardrobe, opposite to it and to the right, right next to the door was his bed with Johnny on it. 

"Glad you could make it." He said, a smile on his lips. "And miss out on seeing your room and getting to know the funny man that just pulled me inside? Wouldn't miss it for the world." 

On the wall next to Johnny’s bed were several framed pictures which you quickly inspected. Many were of his horse, Slow Dancer, some were with Gyro and Johnny on horses, riding, or doing some fun stuff together. 

"Describing Gyro as Funny feels like a hate crime." Johnny said dryly. "Aw, I like him. He seems fun." You saw a glint of jealousy flash over his face. "No worries, I like you even more." You sat down, next to Johnny on his bed and looked away. 

"Did you tell him why we met? He called me bridge friend." 

"No, no, don't worry. He thinks I just go there to relax and get out. If he knew what I originally went there for, he wouldn't let me leave the apartment without him." 

"Okay, good. I was afraid for a second." 

"Don’t be, I'd never tell him anything you told me that you'd probably don't want him to know. All he knows is pretty much that I met you while out and kept meeting you there. He also gave the idea with the note." 

That was very nice of him. Being immediately branded as "mentally ill", "unstable" or anything was one of your worst nightmares. Before you could say much, Gyro popped his head in. "Dinner is almost ready!" He proclaimed before leaving again. 

"Come on. Let's go." Johnny just said and went to get the crutches near the bed end that you hadn’t noticed until now. You quickly went to grab them for him as you were closer. "Didn't know you could partially walk." 

"I don’t like bragging with dat Physical therapy. I'm also not very good at it, still relying on my chair a huge chunk of the time." "That's still progress though." Johnny tried his hardest to suppress the smile on his face. You just went for the door, opening it for him. 

"After you M'Lady." Johnny rolled his eyes and went ahead so you could follow him to the living room where Gyro had set up the tiny dinner table. You took a seat next to the window with Johnny next to you. Next to him and the window too would Gyro then sit, who now came in, cursing in Italian, probably because the stealing bowl in his hands was burning them. 

"Cazzo." He said as he put it down and you curiously eyed the dark green bowl. Spaghetti. You had to smile. "Well then, I hope it tastes as good as it is hot." Gyro mumbled, taking his seat opposite to you. The first few minutes you simply sat in silence since you were still a little nervous and didn't know what to do. 

"So, your name's Y/N?" Gyro asked with a smile, flashing his grills again. You nodded, forcing an awkward smile. Johnny eyed you, noticed your discomfort and sneakily slid his free hand under the table to take yours. A kind smile adorned his lips, he was trying to make you comfortable, and he easily succeeded at that. Not that you’d let him know that he had too much of an ego already.

"What a pretty name!" Gyro said resting his head now on his hands. "Thank you. Gyro is pretty and quite unique too. You're from Italy Johnny mentioned?" "Naples to be exact. So, you and Johnny are friends?" Before you could answer said blond chimed in. 

"Yeah, but I might need to reconsider because they called you funny." Gyro happily clasped his hands together, his smile growing wider. "Oh Johnny, we both know you’re laughing at my jokes too. You just don’t wanna admit it!" 

The evening was one of the nicest you had in a long while. Gyro and Johnny were incredibly comfortable to be around and got you out of the hardened shell you had developed. 

---------

You unlocked the door with the spare key Gyro and Johnny gave you a while ago. Your backpack was uncomfortably warm by now, so you were happy when you dropped it off once in Johnny's room. 

Can you come over, spare some time? It's a bad day.

Johnny had sent that to you, and you made sure to not lose time before dropping by. 

"Hey." Johnny mumbled. He was entangled in his bedsheets, his head messy, and expression tired. "Hey." You answered and began opening your backpack, a familiar smell immediately invaded Johnny's nostrils. You placed the red box carefully next to him, waiting for his reaction. 

"Did you seriously stop by a McDonald's on the way here to bring me a fucking happy meal of all things?" Ah good, his snarky side was still intact. 

"Yeah. Thought you might like the toy and you apparently need a Happy meal today." Johnny chuckled, falling onto his back and hiding his face with his arm. "You're crazy." 

"That's why you like me." 

"Did you bring Gyro something too? He'll be pissed if he gets back and sees he didn't get anything." You laughed and went back to your backpack, grabbing another happy meal. 

"Of course. Lemme bring it to his room, be back soon." You said and left for Gyros room. You opened the door and placed it on Gyros messy desk that was cluttered with medical books and papers. You pushed it a little aside to not place the meal on anything important and then marched back to your blond friend who needed you today. 

"Did you get it for the “My Little Pony” toys?" He asked as he spun around the plastic horse in his fingers. "Yeah. Got you Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie for Gyro." 

"You're ridiculous. Just because we both ride?" You nodded proudly and went to grab your single burger. "Eat, you need it." You reminded him as he begrudgingly shoved some fries in his mouth . 

You both sat against his headboard with Johnny soon resting his head on your shoulder as he chewed on a cheeseburger. "What has you down today?" You finally asked, curious why he had asked you to come over. 

"Today is my accidents anniversary." You furrowed your brows. "You shouldn't keep track of that." "I'm not. The date’s just engraved in my brain. Whenever I wake up on this date, I'm immediately reminded of it." 

Oh Johnny, you thought and went to grab his hand. It was nicely warm, and you intertwined your fingers with his. "Then how about we make it a habit of doing something fun that day. Get your mind off it?" 

With a hesitant and lazy nod Johnny agreed and you pulled out your phone to save it in your calendar. You checked the "Yearly reminder" option and went to type in the name of the appointment. "Johnny Day" you named it and heard a chuckle from you shoulder. 

"A whole day dedicated to me?" Now you nodded and smiled as you went back to your Home screen which was a picture of you Johnny and Gyro together, just doing funny faces. You tossed it aside, as it wasn't important as the blond next to you. Seeing as Johnny was done with his food, you put it away, and then gestured for him to properly lay down.

 As he did as asked, you did the same, resting you head on his shoulder, one of your arms draped around his waist. Johnny's arms also found your frame, pulling you close to him. "You know..." You began as your hand lazily drew circles in his side. "I had a horrible day too. But being here with you now... It made it an okay day." Johnny smiled lazily. "Knowing I made your day better makes mine better." 

You two remained like that. Just holding onto the other and enjoying the warmth and comfort that was provided. 

 "I'm home!" Gyro called out into the dark apartment feeling bad for not being able to be there for Johnny today. He knew very well what day it was and when Johnny didn't even really speak to him early that morning, he just knew what was going on. But he unfortunately had important classes today that he absolutely couldn't skip no matter how bad he wanted to. 

Once in his own room, Gyro was confused by the happy meal box placed on his desk. He giddily looked inside finding a pony toy and some food that has been cold for a while now. Gyro immediately had a suspicious who might have deployed that there. 

With whispered nyo-ho-ho’s he tiptoed to Johnny's room, carefully opening it, only to completely forget his mischievous plans as he saw Y/N and Johnny cuddling together on the bed, soundly asleep. A dreamy smile painted his expression as he just couldn't believe how adorable they were. 

As silently as he could he closed the door again, going back to his room to see if he could heat up his nuggets again. He made a mental note to thank Y/N for their kindness tomorrow. 

-------

You let your head crash against Johnny headboard. Your phone bored you, so you tossed it aside and listened to the mechanical keyboard sounds Johnny made while typing. 

You contemplated just dipping, going home to live your depressive episode in your own four walls without having to worry about Johnny and Gyro. It has been a shit week kind of. 

Nothing went right, pure stress from all sides, stuff that would have anyone down, but you just felt particularly exhausted and drained. Even coming over felt like a chore today and it wasn’t much better than Johnny was a busy bee, typing away code and text without much of a pause. 

You looked over to the blond who downed his third coffee of the day and read something on his screen. Maybe you bothered him? Was he secretly hoping you'd finally leave? Probably not, you knew him well, but intrusive thoughts are intrusive and often illogical, so you were stuck with that. But knowing you'd probably rip him out of his flow you decided to just remain on his bed, not making the effort to leave. 

From the other side of the wall, you could hear Gyro cursing in Italian, he probably got something in his online questionnaire wrong. Somehow that was soothing. The silence with the keyboard sounds and occasionally sounds of a strange Italian man made you feel at ease, so it was better to remain here and not sit in silence in a dark lonely apartment. 

You shifted and went to rest your head on Johnny's blue pillow that smelled just like him. It involuntarily made you smile a little. You simply closed your eyes trying to get some rest and recharge energy by simply trying to relax. And it worked wonders. Your head felt empty and light, letting you just lay there, taking in the sound of Johnny typing away. 

Until the typing stopped. You looked over, wondering why the typing had stopped only to see Johnny looking at you worryingly. To your further surprise, he got up from his wheelchair, which he prefers to use for his desk, and made the few steps over to the bed, using the desk for support before dropping on the bed.

 Once on it he crawled up to you, carefully pressing your back against his chest. "What's with you, you have been so silent all week." He said and you felt bad for making him worry and stop in his work. "Just a shit time. You know how it is." You heard him exhale through his nose, signaling his approval. 

"No need to worry. You gotta work on your assignment." You tried to remind him, not wanting to keep him from more important tasks and to be frank, you felt like the very least important thing all around. But Johnny's grip around you only tightened. 

"Not happening. I'm staying right here with ya. You have been there for me so much recently, the last I can do is be here with you. Also, I have been coming along so well today, I can easily take a break." Absentmindedly you nodded and took hold of his hand. "It's important though Johnny." 

"Right now, you're the most important thing for me. Let me be there, okay Darlin’?" Arguing with the Kentuckian was pointless you knew as much. He was a stubborn asshole, and therefore if he decided to lay with you on the bed, nothing could change his mind. 

"What has you feeling down?" He asked you just shrugged, carefully to not accidentally hurt him by doing so. Death by a shoulder into his face was certainly not cool. "I dunno. I guess everything? This week has just been me making a fool of myself everywhere. From me missing appointments, forgetting my stuff and lots of added stress on top of all that... It's just a lot currently. Lots of people tell me I’m bothering them."

 You turned to lay on your back, Johnny remained on his side, studying you face. You just looked up at the ceiling, as you continued. “I’m not bothering you or Gyro too, am I?” 

Johnny quickly rebutted, “Never. I’d rather you are here and give me an excuse for a break than you sitting alone in that apartment of yours, hear me?” 

You nodded, feeling the breaking point coming as tears build up in your eyes. Crying in front of Johnny wasn’t embarrassing at least, he too had cried in your arms before. It was no big deal. 

“Stay the night yeah? M’sure Gyro won’t mind cooking for one person more. Right?” The last part he screamed, loud enough to summon the Italian from the next room. 

“What was that?” Gyro asked once he too was in the room. You crying, while cuddling with Johnny wasn’t even odd to him anymore. He had walked in on you two doing weirder things, like getting drunk together and quoting old memes. 

“I said you wouldn’t mind cooking for one more person when Y/N stays the night.” “Of course not. You’re always welcome here!” Gyro proclaimed and you thanked him for it before you noticed something. 

“Every time I’m here Gyro cooks. I’m starting to get the feeling Johnny doesn’t cook at all, because he can’t each the top shelves.” Gyro began crackling like crazy and Johnny immediately deadpanned. “I-It’s because he can’t look into the pots o-on the stove!” Gyro managed to press out between his laughs and you laughed like crazy too. 

“I hate you two so much.” Johnny mumbled and let go of you to sit up. “Making fun of my height when I’m in a wheelchair. That’s offensive I’ll have you know!” “Gyro is also taller when you’re standing though.” You argued and earned a flick to the head from the blond man. 

Gyro finally managed to get a grip and made his way to the kitchen, still laughing. “How mean of you, I offer you to spend the night, in my bed of all things and you make fun of me!” Johnny complained and you went to hug him.

“Im sowwy Jownny.” He was cute when he was pouting. “At least you’re laughing, so I accept you making jokes at my expense. For now.” You smiled and kissed his cheek. “There ain’t much to make fun of though. I’m better when I make fun of Gyro.” Johnny raised an eyebrow. “Really?” 

“Yeah. Come on get in your chair, lets bully him back while he cooks.” Johnny did as asked and let you roll him into the kitchen. Normally he didn’t like someone rolling him around. You though? 

You were allowed pretty much anything when it came to him. Even making fun of him.

-------

You huffed and puffed as you moved the boxes. 

"Il mio Dio, Y/N." Gyro mumbled as he went to grab one away from you. "What's in there?" He asked as he watched the poorly scribbled note. "My anime figures." He looked at you with a deadpan expression that you were only used to from Johnny. 

"Ah come on, you already moved in last week. Don't judge me." You complained and grabbed the last two boxes of your own. "Yeah and thanks to us, you won't even need to care about setting up the furniture, we already did that." You bickered with Gyro a little more until you two finally set the boxes inside your new room. 

A while ago Johnny and Gyro had asked you if you wanted to move in with them, in a bigger apartment of course, as it became a totally normal thing to spend a huge chunk of time there already. You happily said yes, excited to not sour in your old apartment anymore but instead to live with your two closest friends.

 Johnny was busy unpacking some of your stuff already while you and Gyro went to get the last boxes from your old apartment with his pickup truck. Once in your new room, you felt content with how Johnny was decorating things already.

 "I'll hang up the pictures though, we don't want them at waist height." You joked and earned an elbow to the ribs from him. "Come on you can't even complain at my work so far." 

You really couldn't. He had set up your plastic plants nicely, made your bed already, however he managed that, Gyro and you must have taken a while, and put the bedside lamp on the table. "No no, you're doing fine. Can't wait to unpack everything and get settled in." 

"Can't wait to finally rest in someone else's bed." Johnny joked. In the time you have known one another Johnny has never been in your old apartment. It was simply a good bit away, wheelchair unfriendly, and super cramped. 

Even Gyro said so and he was in the already empty rooms.

 And it was a regular thing that you and Johnny shared a bed. Gyro considered you two a couple already, besides not officially being one or anything. The blond Italian simply enjoyed watching you two dance around one another, feelings clearly blossomed in both of you. 

"Who said you're allowed in my bed, Johnny?" 

"I did and I know i am." 

"That attitude of yours will be your death someday." 

Silence lingered as you two kept unpacking and sorting. You let Johnny keep on decorating your boards and table, while you were busy stuffing your clothes into your new wardrobe. 

While you were busy trying to get your hoodies into the tiny space, Johnny found something in your box that peaked his interest. A tiny book decorated with Stars and a horse, probably drawn by you. 

Johnny checked over his shoulder, you were still busy and cursing, trying to fit stuff in so he decided to have a look. At the first page his note with his number was taped in. 

He flipped ahead to check what else was here. Receipts from when you guys went out , movie tickets, pictures of you, Johnny and Gyro. You had collected memories in here, he concluded and flipped towards the end. There was a picture of him and you on Slow Dancer that Gyro had taken. Underneath it read "Keep going. For this." Around it you had doodled pretty stars. 

Johnny had been so amazed by this that he didn't notice your looming presence over him. "Weren't you taught not to snoop." You spoke, making Johnny almost jump out of his chair. 

"Sorry, sorry, i was just intrigued." "Dummy." You mumbled and flicked his head, taking the book away into your bedside table drawer it wandered. "It's cute." He spoke. "Thanks. My therapist advised me to try to visualize what keeps me motivated and Honestly ever since I met you, it's been wanting to make more experiences and memories with you." You confessed casually. "Same here." Johnny said with a faint shade of red on his cheeks. 

The buzzing of the apartment door had you both snap out of the situation, and you knew what it meant. 

"Pizza is here!" Gyro proclaimed, setting the boxes down on the couch table. Johnny was already going through Netflix's catalog to pick something to mindlessly watch. 

Once decided, you three sat there, watching some parody movie. Gyro was seated next to Johnny, and you sat on the floor in front of the paraplegic. Dinner was silent, except for Gyros occasional bad jokes as he found the movie not entertaining enough. 

His two friend were soon sick of his antics though, so when Gyro offhand mentioned he still had to go and study some more, the other two silently thanked god for it. 

At first you were alone in your new room, just stretched out on the bed, enjoying the way Johnny had set up things so far, but you knew you'd make it even more homely in the next few weeks. This too would soon come into the book. 

A knock on the door soon interrupted your train of thoughts and you moved to look who entered. It was Johnny to no one's surprise and he casually came over, having taken his crutches from his room. 

"You're getting better at it." "Stop lying." You chuckled. Johnny hated being complimented on his walking progress. 

He described it was "patronizing. No one compliments you when you're normally walking either so why now?" You knew it was mainly Johnny's self-hatred that made it hard for him to accept compliments, so you made sure to give him enough to get used to them. 

Johnny sat down on your bed, the mattress shifting a little as he did and put away his crutches before he scooted over closer to you, embracing your figure in his arms. "Are you happy?" "Now I am." You answered, a chuckle escaped Johnny's body, as he held you closer. 

"I was mainly talking about your room and the apartment but alrighty." You inhaled Johnny scent as you were pressed against his chest, your head resting in the crook of his neck. He felt like home. He and Gyro did. The two had taken prime slots in your heart and you were always in better mood with them around, even on your worst days. 

"Johnny?" "Mhm." He mumbled, obviously just as tired as you. "I love you." "Me you too darlin'." He squished you a little and you gave his neck a kiss in return. 

It was nothing but a casual confession. Just words to properly express and define your feelings towards him now. The lines between "Friend" and "Lover" had long been blurred already. You two didn't need labels. 

You were simply Y/N and Johnny, who found deep appreciation for one another when you met on a bridge you wanted to jump off. 

#jjba johnny x reader #johnny joestar x reader #johnny x reader #jjba x reader #jjba johnny #jjba gyro #mhmm yes comfort #johnny lovers unite

[she-karev]

Pregnant (One Shot Request

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: One of Two

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

AN: Hey guys I see you liked my last post and I got a one-shot request to do another time skip for Amber and DeLuca. I hope you guys like it and I’m up for one shot requests if you have any. I'll try to post part two by Wednesday.

Summary: Amber gets bored during maternity leave and texts Andrew who comes over.

Words: 1741

October 20, 2022

I sit crisscross on the king bed making a lazy raspberry sound as I flip through the pages of Watchmen. Graphic novels aren’t what I usually read but I got desperate after finishing the whole shelf of books in the study. I’ve read everything from classics like Jane Eyre to new releases like Iron Widow. After that I asked Levi for a recommendation and he immediately dropped off this huge comic book. The art is good, the storyline is surprisingly relevant to society’s political landscape and the characters are interesting. But it has barely kept me from chronic boredom that comes from maternity leave or as I like to call it, maternity prison.

My little sidekick is in her eighth month of gestation and it’s pretty evident to anyone with eyes given how I look like Pluto. If Pluto had boobs and was wearing her husband’s Harvard shirt with gray sweatpants. After the New Year I told Andrew that I was ready for us to start trying to have a baby. The pandemic was over, I was caught up in my residency thanks to Webber and Andrew was finally back in the O.R. as a general surgery attending. The timing couldn’t be better and around March we found out we were pregnant and then a few months later we found out we were having a girl. There was a bump when the residency program shut down for a bit but it restarted with a new batch of interns and me being promoted to Chief Resident.

Unfortunately, that joy was short lived, I had to go on maternity leave about a few weeks later when the exhaustion kicked in at 35 weeks and I’ve been glued to the bed ever since. And to make matters worse Levi was assigned temporary Chief Resident so that was another cloud looming over my head. The only thing that keeps me somewhat sane in this bed is my husband and baby daddy coming home and detailing every step of his surgeries so I don’t become dumb. Which is why I sent an impulsive text that I’m sure will make Andrew angry at me.

I hear running out in the hall and the door bursts open revealing Andrew in his navy scrubs and blue fleece telling me he came straight here the second he got my text. He looks around worried until he finds me criss cross in the middle of the bed looking healthy as a clam despite my text saying 911. I grin at him trying to look innocent so he doesn’t get too mad at me for worrying him because I was bored and needed contact with the outside world.

“Hi honey.” I greet him normally and he looks at me in shock before confusion sets in his face and I explain, “I might have possibly fibbed in my text don’t be mad.”

“You-” Andrew groans frustrated before laying it out, “You texted me 911.”

“I know.” I take a sip of my water bottle as Andrew walks to the edge of the bed staring down at me clearly peeved.

“I came straight here from work because my very pregnant wife texted me 911 and I was afraid she was in labor or bleeding out. But instead, I find her in bed chilling and acting like she didn’t almost give me a heart attack!” I wince at the exclamation, “God Amber what is wrong that you have to scare me like that?”

“I can’t be held accountable.” Andrew scoffs at my excuse and I continue, “I can’t be held accountable for my misguided actions because your baby and me have gone insane from bed rest and boredom. Will it make you feel better if I said sorry for almost scaring you to death?”

Andrew’s face softens slightly, “Well I think the knots in your hair are punishment enough so yes.”

I look in the vanity mirror to my left and see that my normally composed blonde hair is all over the place due to laying on my pillow for 10 hours. I look back and see my husband grinning amused already past his anger and I frown at that, “Yeah that’s right laugh at your pregnant wife who has permanent bed head let’s see how that ends for you.”

I stand on my knees and crawl over to the edge to face Andrew who chuckles while I pout, “Okay in all seriousness is there a logical reason why you texted me 911 when there is nothing emergent?”

“I’m bored out of my freaking mind.” I explain bordering on yelling while Andrew is looking at me affectionately with his bright green eyes, “I’ve been at home for five weeks, five weeks, do you have any idea what that is like?!”

“I have a feeling your gonna tell me.” Andrew puts his hands on my hips to keep me steady.

I hold up Watchmen to prove my point of how bored I am, “I’ve read all the books in our shelves I always say I’m gonna finish, I tried watching Netflix but you know it just makes me miss human contact more and to top it off while I’m shackled to this bed like that lady in Gerald’s Game my husband is at work saving lives and actually making a difference because unlike me he doesn’t have a big bowling ball under his shirt. And I think the baby is bored too and she sent that text because she’s hungry for more of your surgery stories and a reminder that there’s a world outside this bed. She’s very stubborn about what she wants.”

“She takes after her mother.” Andrew quips in amused and I narrow my eyes at him causing him to chuckle, “Look I know it’s hard being cooped up in here but you heard what the OB said bedrest is important and you were reaching your limit. I had to practically carry you out of the on-call room when I found you passed out after your lap chole.” I groan at that memory because it’s when I admitted I was exhausted and ordered to go on leave until after the baby was born, “You were doing the work of eight people it’s not good for your stamina and it would’ve affected the baby too.”

“You don’t know that.” He raises an eyebrow at me and I continue, “I’m like an M1-A1, it’s a tank and it can survive anything and get the job done.” I look down at my huge belly pouting at my changing body, “I mean I’m already as big as a tank right now and my bikini days are getting narrower by the minute.”

“I never really liked bikini’s anyway.” He’s trying to console me again which he always does when I complain about how big I’m getting, “You look way better in that sweater than some tacky string.”

“Stop being nice, you know my hormones make me unpredictable.” I remind him again, “The nicer you are the more it makes me want to choke hold you.”

“In that case you look like a bloated whale.” Andrew jokes and it doesn’t amuse me at all, “Better?”

“Not in the least.” I sigh and wrap my arms around the back of Andrew’s neck and say sweetly, “Just stay here and tell me stories about life on the outside.” I run my fingers through his wavy hair to add effect but it doesn’t work. He looks enticed but he’s gotten stronger against my seductions over the years.

“I can’t, I have a surgery this afternoon.” He steps back to my disappointment, “Plus I gotta help Marsh with the skills lab for the interns while Hunt is in the ER. And as much as I want to, I can’t stay here because your bored or Grey will reprimand me. Find something to do while I’m working so the time will pass by and you won’t be so bored.”

Suddenly a light bulb goes off in my head on how I can keep myself busy, “Your right.”

He exhales in relief and turns to leave, “Thank god I’ll see you tonight, I love you.”

“Oh no I’m coming with you; you’re taking me to work.” I get off the bed, go to our closet and put a black coat over my clothes and slip into my black crocs. I can see Andrew turning to face me again with an annoyed look.

“That is not happening babe.” He tells me bluntly but I don’t listen as I grab my purse, “Okay you and the baby need to listen to me. I am not taking you two to a hospital with the germs and blood and diseases it’s not happening I’m putting my foot down.”

I widen my eyes at that and he emphasizes by crossing his arms against his chest, “I’m just gonna watch from the gallery and catch up with my friends and see if Schmitt is still alive. It’s not like I’m getting a scalpel come on man.”

Andrew stands his ground, “Nope still not happening, if you want new books order on Amazon and get express, I don’t care about the price as long as it keeps you in bed and following doctor’s orders.”

“I’m a doctor, you’re a doctor, our siblings are doctors and all of our friends are doctors. I’m pretty sure we both know what’s safe and not safe for me and the baby too.” I remind him, “A hospital is the best place for me to kill time because if I go into labor, I just have to walk five steps to a bed in OB. Please take me with you, think of it like take your daughter to work day.”

He looks at my belly and back up at me, “I think we’re a little early for that.”

“Take me with you.” I sternly command.

“No.” Andrew says with finality causing me to narrow my eyes at him as he keeps a composed face. I mimic his stance crossing my arms across my chest and glaring at him to assert dominance. Even in my condition I stand as his equal and he knows it, he knows I won’t go down without a fight so he has to do the same. We stand there silently for a few moments, me in my pajamas and him in his scrubs, waiting for one of us to budge.

#greys anatomy #greysanatomyedit #greysedit #grey's anatomy #amber karev #andrew deluca #elizabeth gillies #liz gillies #giacomo gianniotti #headcanon #oneshot #one shot request

[hyunlixsbbygirl]

❥Drama Talk

Only Friends episode 9

✨I am not prepared✨

I like that Top isn’t bombarding Mew with details of the party and is just making sure that he’s okay for now.

Seeing both Sand and Ray look so… hurt and tired is heart wrenching. They both need the comfort of the other but I have a feeling that they won’t let the other in. I love that Ray is admitting that he’s finally understanding his feelings though - he doesn’t specifically say his feelings are for Sand but the way he looks at him just screams it.

This whole “if you want to hit me then do it” is not the vibe. Like I know Sand won’t hit him (push maybe) but we all know Sand is a lover first and a fighter second - only fighting when needed. Ugh, why can’t they just kiss and make up already?

😳Nevermind…

The desperation in this kiss though! They have been CRAVING that connection for awhile, like the way Sand didn’t even hesitate to kiss him back and how they both are just grabbing onto each other as though they are long lost lovers finally reunited - it’s just amazing.

WHY DO YOU ALL JUST GRAB THE DAMN PHONE AND START RECORDING WHENEVER YOU SEE SOMEONE KISSING?!?!?!?!?!

Like bro… I don’t care if you know the person. You just don’t record them for your personal vendetta! Jesus…

Okay, does Boston have like a massive dick or something? Like why are all these guys (who see the red flags clear as day) all end up trying to go back? Boston literally lays it on the damn table that he is not into relationships and only wants one night stands and yet for some reason these guys just decide to ignore the warning sirens going off and fall for him anyway! Like bro HAS to just be like well endowed.

Ooh! Roomie camping trip! Our boys honestly needed this - like they’ve both been through hell and deserve to just rest and relax for once without worrying about anything. Time to really think over their feelings and what they really want since no one seems to actually tell them to do so or even care about their needs. Granted, them being masochists honestly makes so much sense.

Ah. The first mention of this “daddy Dan” person this episode. I genuinely want to know what kind of person he’ll be - similar to Boston in that he just lures people to bed and ditches them or similar to Top in that he was once a play boy but fell for one of his prey?

Hmm… a new boy toy for Mew?

Oop enter Top stage left. Honestly, thank goodness. I feel like Mew would have left with that guy if Top hadn’t been there to step in.

And enter Ray stage left - like what happened to wanting Sand? You said you understood your feelings now and yet you went to Mew knowing that he’s not the person you really want. Like you are more confused than me in math class.

The way Ray looks at Mew is completely different than how he looks at Sand. With Mew it’s just comfortable, it’s like he’s not quite forcing himself to commit to this two year crush but he’s also not fully into it. With Sand, he looks like he just met the one person that could save him for good and is just really into being with Sand in every possible way. I will say that I’m surprised Mew let Ray kiss him without Top being there - like he just seemed so turned off by the idea of them kissing at the party.

I think the reason Ray got so mad about Mew not sleeping with him is because it’s forcing him to see that he’s just a rebound. Mew doesn’t actually love him the way he wants him to - Mew loves him as a friend but nothing more. Ray wanted to believe that this wasn’t the case but Mew is proving it by stopping him from progressing past a short make out session. It’s also forcing Mew to admit to himself that he still wants Top though, even though he wants to forget about Top.

I know it looks like Ray is going to Sand for sex but hear me out… I think Ray was testing Mew, he wanted to see if Mew really loved him or not and he got his answer so now he wants to test Sand and see if Sand truly likes him or not - it’s his way of sorting through his feelings; if Mew rejects him, he can finally move on and be with the person he really wants to be with. If Sand rejects him then he didn’t really like either of them. If Mew had slept with him, he would have stayed with Mew believing he really loves him just like if Sand accepts him, he’ll know that he really wants Sand. Just wait…

HOLD UP….

NICK….

Don’t tease me… didn’t I just say last week that I wanted to at least see Sand and Nick make out? ISTG

I LITERALLY DID! DONT EVEN TELL ME THIS IS HAPPENING!

Okay…

Now that I’ve stopped screaming. I will say that while that kiss was honestly really good, I’m glad they realized that they would never work as boyfriends. I mean Nick and Sand are cute but they just don’t work in that sense. I love that they’re laughing it off while cuddling too, it’s just so wholesome and sincere.

Ray actually drove to Sand…

Does Ray have like a threesome fetish or something 😂 my man has brought this up three times already like boy get out of here! I can’t with you. I will say that Ray cuddling up to Sand like a monkey is adorable though.

Top is incredible - going after Mew’s moms in order to win him back. Honestly, job well done my dude!

WAIT! Sand and Ray have been sleeping together this whole time?! Since when? Like since the first time we saw them or like did they stop and then start up again sometime around when Sand showed Ray that audio clip? Like I need this story!!!

Yes Sand baby! Put up those boundaries! I am so proud of you for speaking your heart and mind and letting Ray know that you aren’t going to be his side piece!

I understand where Ray is coming from though; he likes Sand and wants to be with him but Mew is special and has been for years - letting go of his feelings for him won’t be easy no matter how much Ray wants to let go. I was in that position before and up until about 3 years after he dumped me - I would have gladly ran back to him even though I had feelings for someone else at the time. It’s hard to let go of familiarity in order to have something that brings you true happiness.

YAS TOP! That is how you win someone back! Not with dirty tricks but with showing your true feelings and offering nothing but respect for them until they feel like they can forgive you!

Nick 🤝🏼 Rain “Daddy doesn’t mean father in this case” It means you’re hot and please fuck me

Oh so Boston was there hmm? I think he saw Nick and Dan kissing so he put on a show with another guy just in case Nick saw them. Boston wants Nick to be jealous, he doesn’t know why but he knows he does. My theory is that Boston really loves Nick but refuses to admit it because he’s scared of committing to someone who has the potential to hurt him.

Oh… Nick’s speech to Boston is heartbreaking but like it needed to happen. Nick needed that closure for himself to no longer hurt but you can tell it hurt Boston in a way that he wasn’t expecting. I mean he actually left his hit it and quit it situation to go after Nick. Something about those words got to him. Interesting.

This conversation between Sand and Ray though; you can tell that Ray is asking these questions to see how much Sand cares for him - the more he realizes that Sand really loves him, the more he’s letting go of his feelings for Mew and finally allowing himself to feel the love he has for Sand. Them confessing that they’ve never been like this for anyone though?!?! My heart is racing!

THIS BED SCENE!!

This isn’t just two people having sex - they were making love. They were putting their feelings for each other into that and really giving themselves to each other finally. Those cheek kisses afterwards too though! Like if they don’t become end game I will cry for the rest of my life.

See, Mew isn’t even mad that Ray picked Sand. He even admitted to using Ray to piss off Top. They both saw the signs and still tried to force themselves to be with each other because it made sense at the time. I am glad that they can walk away from this as friends and even joke about it. It shows that their bond as friends was truly strong.

Who is this now?!

Going to Top’s apartment too? Like sir, who is you and why are you hot?

THAT WAS BOEING?!?!?!?!? EXCUSE ME?!?!?!?

Bruh! What was that preview though?! I am not ready for this! Like I’m glad Boston is realizing how much of a shitty person he is but like why is dragging Nick into it?! Also are Top and Mew end game then? So Ray actually goes to rehab for Sand?! I AM SIMPLY NOT READY FOR NEXT WEEK

#only friends #only friends the series #drama talk #Thai bl #sandray

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Rambling about and beyond a podcast below the “keep reading” link.

Quick update on this post: So, um... Stuart Goldsmith and I talked it out and we’re cool now. No seriously, that’s actually what’s happened. Weirdly. Very fucking weirdly. It’s been a weird couple of days. It’s been a weird week.

So, last week I learned some of the type of thing I learn all the time, guy in sport that I know to some degree turns out to be bad, but in this case it was made worse by the fact that the guy was in my own city and a friendly acquaintance of mine and the victim was a teenage girl I knew but had no idea it was happening basically in front of me for years, and also the guy recently died. So learning that messed me up a bit. I’ve spent some time since then throwing books across the room in frustration and also throwing my hands up in the air because everything in the world is absolutely fucked so nothing matters. And in the process, have managed to at least mildly insult two separate comedians by writing things I did not expect them to read.

The news from last week sparked some discussions of similar situations, as it always does, and one of those similar situations reminded me a bit of some of the stuff that guy I hated from that podcast was bragging about. That reminded me that I never did make a decision about whether to cancel my monthly financial contributions to it, and I decided this was the time to do that, because fuck everyone. So I went in and canceled my subscription, and there was a mandatory field for entering the reason. It didn’t occur to me for a second that anyone would read it, I assumed it was an automated process. So I wrote one fairly frustrated sentence, did get a tiny twinge of satisfaction from being able to vent into the void, and canceled the money.

Got an email within three minutes asking me what I was talking about, and immediately freaked the fuck out because holy fuck. That moment of “Oh shit he can see me.” And that is how I found myself, literally one day after writing a post on this blog about how I can’t even communicate with people who feel like celebrities within my little community so that really happens around actual famous people, in a short email correspondence with a comedian and podcast host I really like. I managed to articulate my issue, and got a substantial, thoughtful reply that I won’t describe in detail because it was, absolutely fucking ludicrously, private correspondence. But basically, he gave me exactly the explanation I’d wanted, which confirmed why that one mess of an interview does not define or represent him or his work. I thought of that explanation weeks ago - the factors that made it a break from his normal direction, the good intentions that went wrong in the moment, what happened as a result, and how he sees it differently now.

When I first thought of that potential explanation, I thought it was reasonable, and if it were true and I could see him say so, I’d be able to get past that one episode and go back to enjoying the podcast. I actually went looking for that last month. I Googled to see if there was any backlash at the time, because I wanted to get my respect for him back, and thought if I could find someone else getting mad at him, I could feel like consequences had already been dealt so I don’t need to get mad all over again eight years later. If I could find someone getting mad about it and him responding by explaining that he doesn’t condone that stuff, then that would really lay it to rest. I didn’t find anything like that.

This week, I finally did get what I thought I wanted, which was to read his explanation after I sent him some backlash myself. I got exactly the explanation I’d hoped for, learned I’d guessed correctly down to a couple of specific details, and I didn’t find it remotely satisfying. It just made me sorry I’d dredged this up for no reason. I took some ugly shit from years ago that no longer matters, and put it into the inbox of someone I think is brilliant. Why do that? Why couldn’t I have just assumed my benefit-of-the-doubt-giving guess was correct, instead of making him actually tell me so?

I mean, I’ll talk some shit on here when I think it’s warranted, but as soon as I realize it’s been seen by an actual human who might be affected, I immediately feel terrible about it. The correspondence consisted of a couple of emails, and by the end I was so sorry that I’d started it, I closed off by saying I apologize profusely for making you go over this bullshit, please pretend that when I got the chance to email you I used it to say “It’s amazing how you drew out about eight different sides of Andy Zaltzman than never came out in hundreds of Bugle episodes”, and not anything else. And then I closed my laptop and decided I might have to hide under my bed for the rest of my life.

The other instance was when I went to a comedy club last week, and my brother texted me during the show, so after the show ended (only after it ended, I might have gone a comedy club while drunk and miserable and not a great audience member, but I wasn’t bad enough to be looking at my phone during the show), I texted back to let him know I was at a comedy club where he used to perform a lot. I told him what comedians were on, and he asked me what I thought of the host. If I’d been sober, I’d have known to be careful when answering that question, because my brother knows all these people. But I’d been drinking whiskey since 1 PM because I’d just found out a guy I’d liked was a horrifying person and I couldn’t even yell at him because he was dead. So I texted my brother that I really didn’t like the host at first, but I thought he saved his better stuff for between the later acts, because by the end I thought he was okay. My reply was a screenshot of my brother sending a screenshot of my message to that comedian, with the words "feedback lmao". Honestly, he probably wasn’t even bad, not even at the beginning. I just wasn’t in the mood to laugh, that’s not his fault.

So the lesson is that sometimes when I write things down with the assumption that people won’t see them, people do in fact see them. And that has me thinking I should maybe be slightly more careful about shit I post on here. I don’t think all the real people from Twitter are really going to come over here, people threaten that all the time and then it never happens, but this current threat does go much farther than most and has me slightly worried. I like feeling like shit I write down can only be seen by a very few people who are even stranger than I am if they’re over here. Freaks me right out if real people can see me.

I think that’s something I got bad for during the pandemic, feeling uncomfortable with people seeing me. I got so used to getting to stay where no one can. So even though real life’s supposed to be happening again, I find it easier to retreat into comedy that occurs across the ocean and this niche website, where no one sees me. Maybe it’s for the best if I start feeling like comedy and internet posting about it are also not a completely insulated bubble; then actual life won’t seem as daunting by comparison.

Anyway, I can’t seem to undo the cancelation of my podcast subscription, but once it actually runs out I will renew it. And episodes of the Comedian’s Comedian podcast may start working their way back into my rotation. I listened to the Isy Suttie episode last night, it was lovely. Lovely person, Isy Suttie. Everything’s fine.

[siderealscribblings]

“I am ninety-nine percent sure I know who Chat Noir is.”

It was a heck of a thing to drop out of the blue, but since Marinette revealed her identity to Ladybug, Marinette had gotten used to Alya texting or calling at odd hours with sudden revelations.

(“THAT’S how you knew Lila was lying?!”)

(“So when you skipped on our hangout sess a few months ago, was it because-”)

(“I’m just saying, I know I guy who might be able to doxx Hawk Moth.”)

Unlike her usual stunning revelations though, this one was not one Marinette already knew.

“Okay,” Marinette said, blinking to keep her eyes from completely bugging out of their sockets. “How do you-”

“I just felt like I should be honest, you know?” Alya chuckled. “Since...you know-”

“Yeah, no...thanks,” Marinette said, slightly dazed. “I...um...how do you know?”

“Well...let’s just say I noticed a pattern,” Alya said, chewing on the corner of her lip. “Do you want to know who-”

“No,” Marinett said, before quickly adding. “I mean...it would be better to keep things between us secret for now.”

Alya opened her mouth, an argument on the tip of her tongue, but seemed to swallow it with a nod. “Okay...yeah, sure, I get it.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust him,” Marinette said quickly, maybe more for her own benefit than Alya’s. “I do! I swear! I just-”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Alya said quickly.

“And he’s wanted to reveal ourselves to each other for a long time,” Marinette muttered, ignoring Alya’s easy-out. “I was the one who insisted we keep our identities secret and I’m just...really, really not looking forward to the conversation where I tell him I was the one to break our no-sharing rule...you think he’ll be mad?”

“You tell me ,” Alya said, throwing her hands up. “He’s your partner-”

“He’s going to be mad ,” Marinette moaned, burying her face in her hands. “And hurt and-”

“And...so what?” Alya asked.

“So he’s my partner and we already have this...trust...thing between us,” Marinette sighed. “Long story short the last Guardian wasn’t a very good teacher to him and he’s had to deal with being locked out of the loop before...I just worry that I keep asking him to trust me while constantly keeping secrets from him.”

“And he’s keeping one from you,” Alya said gently. “Kind of a crappy situation all around but...well, let’s just say I think he’s a really understanding guy.”

“I don’t want to be in a relationship with someone who constantly has to just understand me though,” Marinette said with a wince. “Sorry, I don’t mean to keep dumping all my Ladybaggage on you.”

“I’ll tell you if I’ve had enough,” Alya said firmly, squeezing Marinette’s wrist. “I don’t mind; really.”

If she lived another hundred years, she would never stop trying to return the kindness and understanding Alya had displayed to her since revealing her identity.

“Thanks,” Marinette said,, the movie on the screen forgotten as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “So...n-not that I’m prying for details but...this guy you think is Chat Noir-”

“Sounds like you’re prying for details,” Alya snickered. “Don’t tell me you’re curious about him.”

“Of course I am!” Marinette huffed. “Wouldn’t you be?”

“I don’t need to be curious; I figured out my boyfriend’s identity by myself,” Alya said smugly. “You want covert deets?”

Marinette weighed her words carefully before speaking. “Is he...out of costume...when he goes home...is he happy?”

Alya’s expression was unreadable for a long moment. “Do you want the truth or...do you want me to say something that will make you feel good?”

“Well that tells me the truth probably sucks, doesn’t it?” Marinette sighed, rubbing her eyes. “He’s got...he’s got a lot of friends, right?”

“He has a...few really good ones,” Alya reasoned.

“And his family?” Marinette asked.

“His family...exists,” Alya said as diplomatically as she could. “Look, we’re treading on major spoiler territory here; can you tell me what you want to know so I can pull it out from all the other information?”

Marinette stared down at her hands thoughtfully for a moment. “...being the Guardian by myself has been one of the loneliest times in my life. I have you now; I had Master Fu for a lot longer than he did. It would make me feel better if I knew Chat Noir was...okay outside the suit. But I think you just answered my question.”

“Look, I can’t tell you how he feels,” Alya said, rubbing Marinette’s shoulder gently. “I can’t read minds, Mari...but-”

“You think I should tell him about me?” Marinette asked hesitantly.

“I think that’s your call,” Alya said. “Do you want my advice?”

“You think I should talk to him,” Marinette said, deflating a little.

“If he finds out from someone who isn’t you, it’s not gonna do wonders for the whole Trust thing you got going on,” Alya said. “And...look, I think it’s great you reached out to me. And I think whatever you want to do with your identity is your business...but I think he deserves the same opportunity to confide in someone. In fact...I think he really needs it.”

“But how do I know he’ll pick the right person?” Marinette blurted out. “What if he picks someone who Hawk Moth compromises and-”

“Didn’t you just say you trusted him?” Alya asked, stopping Marinette’s catastrophizing in her tracks.

“I do...I promise I do...but-”

“You either do or you don’t,” Alya said softly. “And telling him that you broke your rules and he can’t is not going to convince him you trust him. Saying you trust someone is like saying you’re going to work out; you don’t get the results unless you actually do it.”

“I could pick someone for him,” Marinette muttered, looking up at Alya. “Someone trustworthy.”

“Someone you trust,” Alya said. “This has to be someone he trusts. Or else what’s the point?”

“You already know though!” Marinette said.

“ Hey Chat Noir, I completely trust you with my life but also, I’m going to make the choice of who you can and can’t talk to about your personal business,” Alya said, watching Marinette’s nose wrinkle in irritation. “Tell me how that chat is going to go.”

“You know ignoring your advice is getting harder now that you know about me,” Marinette grumbled, crossing her arms.

“Ignore it if you want; just don’t be surprised if this pushes you apart,” Alya shrugged.

“It won’t, he’ll…” Marinette trailed off. “He wouldn’t stop being my partner over this, right?”

“And if he did?” Alya probed. “Just pick a new Chat Noir.”

“I don’t-” Marinette swallowed, shaking her head. “No...I don’t want another Chat Noir.”

“Then you’re going to have to keep this one,” Alya said, squeezing her shoulder. “That means being honest and fair with your partner; if not about your identity, then about his .”

Marinette nodded mutely, turning her gaze back to the movie as Alya stood up. “Want something from the kitchen?”

“I’m good,” Marinette said, fidgeting with her bracelet as she tried not to dread the conversation she knew she had to have.

---

To his credit, the storm of accusations she imagined would come out of Chat Noir’s mouth did not come; Ladybug might have felt better if they did.

Instead, her partner looked dazed, blinking and nodding as his gaze turned away from her. “...okay-”

“I swear this is not about you,” Ladybug said quickly, tugging on Chat Noir’s arm as he turned away from her. “And it doesn’t mean I don’t trust you! I swear I do.”

“No I...I understand,” Chat Noir said, the cheer in his voice becoming more and more forced. “Um...you know, I-I have a lot of homework to do tonight-”

“Chat...please look at me,” Ladybug said, tilting her partner’s face towards hers. Of course she had made him cry, but she tried to push down her guilt. This wasn’t about what she did; given the same choice, she would have picked Alya again, even if it meant hurting Chat Noir in the process.

“I know I don’t have a lot of opportunities to display how much I trust you,” Ladybug said, licking her lips. “So it probably feels like I just tossed aside a huge chance to show how much you mean to me...but this was about me doing what I needed-”

“You don’t need to...you’re the Guardian-”

“That doesn't make me your master !” Ladybug said emphatically, startling Chat Noir out of his daze. “That doesn’t mean I can control who you talk to and who you confide in! I still...I still think we’re too close and rely on each other too much to jeopardize our working relationship...but if there’s someone in your life you trust, I...I want you to have the same opportunity. To confide in someone you trust.”

“Not you though,” Chat Noir muttered.

“There has to be someone else,” Ladybug said almost desperately. “Tell me I’m not the only person in your life you can rely on…”

Alya had been such a positive force in her life since she had told her; she thought back to all the times they had stayed up late talking, all the times Alya had listened to her vent about akuma, all the nights she held her hand because she had watched Chat Noir die to save her yet again.

Was there no one Chat Noir could turn to when he was alone?

Chat Noir seemed to chew it over for a long moment, blinking back tears still as he tried to grapple with the fact his relationship with Ladybug had shifted out from underneath him yet again. “...do I have to tell you who it is?”

“I think it’s better if you don’t,” Ladybug said softly. “Sorry...if I knew who you trusted, I might be able to figure out who you are. This way...I’m not the only one keeping secrets-”

“I don’t want to keep secrets,” Chat Noir grumbled.

“I know,” Ladybug sighed. “And I promise, I swear, the minute Hawk Moth is gone, there will be no more secrets between us! This... mess of half-truths and half-lies will end and we can just be-”

The idea of being something to Chat Noir outside the mask was something not even Alya knew; a secret all her own that might never come to light.

“This is just for now,” Ladybug said firmly. “Not forever.”

Chat Noir nodded, once again resigned to a fate someone else had picked for him. “I get it...I do.”

“Are you mad at me?” Ladybug asked.

Chat Noir weighed the answer for a long moment. “...no,” Chat Noir said with a shrug. “Just...can we pick this up some other time? I wasn’t kidding about the homework.”

For the first time there was a real wall between her and Chat Noir and Ladybug was shocked by how much she detested it.

“I understand,” Ladybug said quietly. “But I meant what I said when I said you should find someone to turn to. I wish I could help you with everything, but-”

“For now...you can’t,” Chat Noir nodded, putting on a brave face. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Ladybug let Chat Noir slip out of her fingertips, momentarily reaching out to pull him back before thinking better of herself. She didn’t expect him to be sunshine and rainbows after telling him, but as firm as she was in her convictions, it still sucked to see him in pain.

Just deal with it yourself like he has to, Ladybug thought as she watched Chat Noir turn and dive off the roof of the building. Alya’s had enough on her plate...you don’t need to bother her with-

Her resolve lasted until she transformed, blinking back tears as she pulled her phone out of her pocket.

---

“Did I do the right thing?”

Alya said nothing, running her hands through Ladybug’s hair as she laid her head on her lap.

“Sometimes...doing the right thing hurts people as a result,” Alya said carefully. “It’s just a sucky part of life.”

“I hate it,” Ladybug sniffed, wiping her eyes with another tissue. “I think he thinks I love keeping secrets from him but...I really hate it. It makes me feel so alone...and I don’t want him to feel that way either.”

“And he can figure out how to feel less alone himself now,” Alya said soothingly. “This guy...I know he has at least one really great friend.”

“Like you?”

“...maybe a little better,” Alya said fondly. “I know he’d move earth to put a smile on Chat Noir’s face, so maybe let this problem fall in his lap instead of yours. You don’t have to do everything to make everyone happy all the time.”

“I want to,” Ladybug muttered.

“ Everybody includes you ,” Alya said firmly. “Take care of yourself first ; let Chat Noir take care of himself now.”

“I worry about him though,” Ladybug said quietly.

Alya glanced down at her phone, seeing a message from Nino flash on her screen.

Nino: hey babe

Nino: can’t make it tonight

Nino: adrien sounds really upset and said he wanted to talk to me about something

“Don’t." Alya smiled as she laid the phone on the bed beside her. “He’s in good hands.”

Ao3 

#my writing #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #ladynoir #platonic alyanette #post-Gang of Secrets #ml spoilers

[erodasfishtacos]

HSLOT PHILLY

Like, comment, share, and come talk if you enjoyed the fic.

I write for free - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here.

-

Harry is predictable.

He falls into the same patterns during every tour since he was on the Up All Night with One Direction.

The excitement that comes with the first couple of shows begins to fade as he starts his world wide tour that doesn’t end for nearly eight months.

His constant adrenaline wears off and his exhaustion from not having toured in two years settles deep in his bones.

YN senses it from a mile away, has nearly eleven years experience dealing with her jet-lagged, exhausted, and stubborn husband.

It hits the day of the Philadelphia show, they got in late the night before, and YN always set her alarm for seven thirty in the morning to workout.

Ninety-five percent of the time, Harry got up with her and they either did a jog around the new city or they took advantage of the in-hotel gym.

Four percent of the time, he would whine and tug the comforter over his head, whimpering, “M’too tired, baby. Stay in bed w’me.”

And then the one percent, which was today.

The alarm emits a low, constant beep that rouses YN, in the time she takes to rub her eye and come back into reality - Harry hisses with a sharp edge, “Turn tha’ fuckin’ thing off.”

She bites her tongue at his tone, reaching to turn it off but she can already tell what day they’re going to have.

YN slips out from under the covers and automatically gets a comment from her husband, it another whiney demand, “Cover m’feet, y’too the blanket off them.”

“Yes, your majesty,” YN replies reproachfully, rearranging the blankets before quietly moving around the room to change.

“Stop makin’ so much noise.”

“Turn off tha’ light.”

“S’too early f’this, d’you not care that m’tired?”

She chooses to ignore the remarks, hoping that he can sleep off the attitude.

When YN is about to leave, he grumbles, “Y’need to kiss me goodbye.”

Harry purses his lips for a soft kiss, not moving a muscle, and after that - she leaves to head down to the gym.

YN is required a body guard, definitely when she isn’t with Harry or a group of people, and she decided not to follow those rules today.

She had her TPWK water bottle in hand, a cute workout set on ***, and her AirPods tucked in her ear with some Spice Girls playing.

It’s only about twenty minutes into her exercise, a light jog on the treadmill, that a young girl slips up beside the machine.

YN is kind, stopping the belt to smile for a selfie before the girl scampers off and she resumes her run - music blasting.

However, what YN didn’t know, is that fans had found out early in the morning which hotel they where at and a hoard was rushing towards the small gym.

It’s not even ten minutes later when a swarm of fans in rushing into the work area, lining up around her machine with their phones flashing and recording.

She tries to be nice, “Hey! Uh, I’m just trying to workout. I’m sorry, but no pictures please.”

Then there is loud protest and people shoving each other, begging and pleading for a selfie or for her to sign something - all because she was Harry’s wife.

There is literally no exit to escape to, so she relents and anxiously calls Frank - one of the body guards - to come retrieve her.

-

The whole way back up to her hotel room, Frank is lecturing her about safety and how she could have gotten hurt.

And when he scans the keycard for her hotel room, she feels her stomach drop because Harry is sat against the kitchen counter.

His brown locks are rumpled and going every which way, just in his briefs that are low on his narrow hips, and absolutely irate expression on his face.

“Are y’fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Harry snaps, brow furrowed and jaw clenched - his arms were crossed tightly against his chest.

“Good morning to you, sunshine,” YN mutters, shutting the door and kicking off her tennis shoes to the side.

“Don’t,” Harry replies sourly, “Please explain t’me why I get woken up by Frank to be told y’getting mobbed in the gym? And y’didn’t to call him.”

YN bristles at his tone, giving him a pointed look as she steps further into the room, “It’s not a big deal. I just wasn’t thinking.”

“Y’right about that, y’weren’t thinkin’. It is a big deal, y’could have gotten hurt - shouldn’t have t’babysit m’own wife,” Harry huffs, stomping back over to the bed and sliding back under the covers.

“You better watch your tone-“

They’re interrupted with a knock to their door, Harry throws the covers over his head and leaves YN to open the door.

It’s Jeff, who barges in with a coffee in one hand, “Come on, H. Did you forget? You have soundcheck early today and then you have to meet with FullStop to review the details of that new merchandise contract.”

“No, move it,” The popstar groans, muffled from the heavy blankets over him, and his manager and wife give each other a knowing look.

“We can’t. Get up, we need to leave in fifteen,” Jeff replies casually, unbothered as he sips from his to-go mug.

It has Harry dramatically ripping off the covers and getting out of bed, as he charges off towards the bathroom, he shouts backwards, “Wish someone would have fuckin’ told me! Like m’manager or m’wife!”

“Oh my god, here we go,” YN groans quietly to Jeff, snatching up the few things she needs for the venue as well as Harry’s and shoving them in his duffle.

He comes out a few moments later, dressed in running shorts and a vintage Queen shirt - going to tug on his Nikes without a word to either.

But in true Harry fashion, even when he’s mad, he’s still a gentleman. He slips the duffle off his wife’s shoulder so she doesn’t have to carry it.

“Thank you,” She murmurs but he avoids eye contact, being the first to open the hotel room and trudge towards the awaiting car.

It’s a quiet ride, Harry looks out the window with a deep frown and puffy eyes - eyes heavy from the lack of sleep.

Usually, he’d be curled into YN - snuggling as close as possible and asking for her to pet his hair to soothe him.

Not today. But he does have his hand on her thigh.

There’s already fans at the arena and Harry doesn’t acknowledge them - keeps his head down and walks quickly into the private entrance past the barricades.

When a irritated fan screams, “Asshole! We waited all night here for you!”

YN watches as Harry goes to turn, to say something but she pushes him forward through the door to prevent him from doing something he’d regret when wasn’t in a foul mood.

They manage through the long hallways, filled with bustling tour crew, and everybody there to make the show happen.

Sound check isn’t as fun as it usually is, the band stays low-key when Harry does exactly what he needs to do and nothing more.

And after the merch meeting, Harry has reached his limit apparently.

He was so tired, so fucking moody that he couldn’t deal with anymore human interaction.

YN has to step in when she gets a text from Harry Lambert.

Come get your husband. Sarah’s Kitchen.

She sighs, excusing herself from hanging out with Jeff and Glenne - she can hear him from the hallway and now she’s finally get irritated.

“I asked for that specific brand. It’s literally one of the only things I’ve asked for on this tour.”

YN takes a deep breathe before stepping in, there are crew trying not to stare as Harry complains to Sarah about something unimportant.

“Harry,” She says flatly, “Come on.”

He snatches his water bottle and follows his wife out without another word, trailing behind until they end up in his dressing room.

“You need to stop. You’re being a literal nightmare today,” YN tells him, watching him as he digs in the duffle.

“Where is m’charger? Did y’not pack it?” He ignores her words.

“I must have forgot. Harry, I know you’re tired but you can’t be treating everyone like-“

Harry pushes back the bag, seething for no reason, “I’ll treat people however the fuck I want!”

“You’re acting like a spoiled popstar right now,” YN replies, attempting to stay level-headed and calm with him.

“S’my show! M’tour!”

“Yes and everyone is here to support you and you’re treating them like shit. Including me, I’m your wife - the one person in the world that’s here for you no matter what and you’re being downright mean.”

“Y’so fuckin’ sensitive,” Harry mutters angrily, digging around to try to find a charger in a different bag.

And…that stung a bit.

When he doesn’t get a response, he looks up and notices how her demeanor had changed - it brings him back to reality for a little bit.

“I’m not going to stay here and be talked to like that because you don’t feel good. I’ll leave you alone because you are being insufferable.”

“Bab-“

YN is already out the door, storming back to Sarah’s kitchen to apologize for her husband’s diva behavior and everyone shrugs her off - knowing it’s not her fault.

She is sat down with the band and a few others when her husband saunters in, he doesn’t look at anyone else as he walks up to his wife.

“Baby, can I talk to you?” He mumbles, his warm hand coming to cup her shoulder.

“Harry,” YN says back, they’ve been together for so long that those words are all she needs to say for him to formulate a response.

“Come nap w’me please, need you. I’ll apologize t’you,” Harry says, his palm encompassing and big on her.

“Harry,” She repeats.

The crew looks on in amusement as Harry huffs, he lifts his head and speaks loudly to the room at once, “I apologize for my behavior. I have no excuse for getting upset like I have been today. I hope you guys can forgive me.”

Everyone assures him that they forgive him, most of them have dealt with actual spoiled celebrities and Harry was just having a bad day (which still really wasn’t that bad.)

“Okay, come on, bunny,” YN agrees, satisfied and can’t help but smile a bit when she stands up and Harry automatically intertwines their fingers to hold her hand.

The sofa in his dressing room folds out to be a bed and they still had hours before the show.

Once they’ve locked the doo and settled down on the mattress - they’re both laying on their sides, facing each other.

“M’sorry, darlin’,” Harry whispers, “I haven’t been very nice t’you today. I was just upset about the gym thing and just being so tired.”

YN hums, combing throwing his fluffy curls with her fingers as his hands explore over her hips and belly like always.

“You always get like this every once in a while on tour, like a little spoiled popstar,” YN says softly, no sharpness in her tone, “You also need to be nice to your wife.”

“M’always nice t’my wife,” He mumbles childishly, leaning forward to nip at her chin, “I am sorry, know tha’ when I act like that it embarrasses you.”

“You’re better than acting like that,” YN reminds him, allowing him to tug her into his warm, now bare chest, “I’m never gonna let you turn into some fame monster. You’re gonna stay the kind, funny, compassionate person I met when I was young.”

And when YN doesn’t get a reply, she glances to see Harry’s eyes shut, mouth slightly parted as he breathes rhythmically and his entire face relaxes as he sleeps.

“Still my boy,” YN murmurs lovingly, nuzzling before letting sleep overtake her.

-

#hslot!harry #hslotrry #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #Harry styles angst #husband!harry #harry styles huband #erodsafishtacos masterlist #file #Harry styles au #update #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing request #harry styles angst

[adelheidvonschicksal]

I could do a scenario where reader loves to mess with megumi's hair, but suddenly she stops because she thinks she's bothering him.

The first time you notice how soft his hair is was when you were returning to school after a long mission.

You were riding in a car with the entire first-year gang. Nobara sat in the front seat next to Ijichi while you were placed in the back between Yuji and Megumi. The ride back was a long one. After an exhausting day of exorcising curses, you were all tired. Nobara and Yuji ended up falling asleep minutes into the ride, leaving Megumi to watch the sights passing through the window and you shyly trying to make conversation with him.

It's hard considering the strong crush you have on your fellow classmate. He was intelligent, kinder than he really let on, and fairly mature (at least compared to the people you’re usually around). His good looks were the cherry on top of the entire package. Everyone knew Megumi was a pretty boy and often teased him about it. He had fair skin, long, thick eyelashes, and your favorite being his dark hair. It looked so soft whenever your teacher would pat his head, flattening out the black tresses and ruffling them, much to Megumi’s chagrin. But you really wished you could feel as well.

You were the type of person to show your fondness for others through touch. Some people liked it, and some didn’t. For example, Yuji normally had no problem with you touching him, even welcomed it. You weren’t brave enough to ask someone like Megumi for the same sort of relationship, so you kept your hand to yourself when it came to him. At least until Megumi fell asleep, leaning against the car door for support. It’s then you saw your chance and carefully reached to touch one of the longer spikes.

The little black point wavered at your poking, lightly curling around your index finger as you swirled it around. You giggled to yourself about it. It’s thicker and fluffier than you imagined and also incredibly soft, proving Kugisaki’s theory about a ton of hairspray wrong.

Suddenly, a bump in the road cut your touching short, and you quickly jumped away when Megumi’s eyes began to flutter open.

Suspicious, he asked, “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” you said calmly despite your heart thumping under his gaze, but he dropped his interrogation as you all pulled into the school’s parking lot.

That was three months ago.

Now, the two of you were dating, and you saw that as permission to continue your physical intimacy with your more introverted boyfriend.

“Good morning, guys,” you greet your classmates and teacher with a wave, saving your happier actions for Megumi as your hand immediately goes towards his head to ruffle his hair. You pull your hand away but not before letting your fingers clasp your favorite cowlick. Giving a gentle tug, you let it bounce back into place with a smile.

Megumi groans softly, his mouth pursed into a slight frown as he goes to fix his hair back into its normal disarray.

Gojo claps, bringing your attention towards him. “Well now that everyone’s here, let’s go shopping.”

With that, the five of you head to the shopping district despite the heat bearing down on the city. You spend about an hour walking around before deciding to take a break so Nobara and Gojo can catch their breath in the shade while you return some clothes you bought a few weeks earlier across the street. Megumi and Yuji go to buy all five of you drinks, but it isn’t long before you hear Yuji yelling from outside the store.

“Sensei! Kugisaki! Fushiguro is getting hit on! We have to protect (L/Name)’s relationship!”

Before you could even stop them, they’re already up and running in Fushiguro’s direction. Sighing, you grab your card from the store owner and run to catch up with your group.

When you arrive, Kugisaki and Itadori are already clinging to him and ranting something about being in love with him before Gojo saunters up in his best casual wear to challenge them. You have to stifle back a laugh as he goes on about music practice and homewrecking before the event ends with Megumi smacking Yuji in the head as Nobara and Gojo stalk off, defeated.

Hearing your laughter, Yuji cowers behind you with tearful chibi eyes. “Do you see that, (Name)? Fushiguro is so mean. I was only trying to help him and that's the treatment I get .”

“You didn’t help at all. You were nothing short of embarrassing.”

You giggle at the two before reaching out to your silently fuming boyfriend. “No need to be so grumpy, Megumi-kun, or did Gojo give you too much violin homework,” you sing out teasingly, earning a growl about how it isn’t funny as you playfully scramble his hairstyle.

“And that! Will you stop with that?” Megumi demands and forcefully shoves your hand away. “It’s so annoying. You don’t see me petting you all day like some damn pet.”

“Oh,” you say, stepping back from him in your shock. This is the first time Megumi has brought up how you chose to dote on him. Yes, he’d quietly grumble about it from time to time like most things, but he never yelled at you about how you chose to display your affection. You guess you never really realized how much it truly bothered him. Biting back the hurt in your voice, you apologize. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

Megumi grunts softly in response, and Yuji decides it’s probably best to ask Gojo to take you all home for today.

It isn’t long after that Megumi begins to notice your interactions with him starting to change. He apologized for yelling at you soon after the event, but you were still much less touchy with him even after accepting his apology.

Normally, you’d grab onto his hand without so much as asking or surprise him with kisses on his cheek. Now, you only hold his pinky from time to time and only if he asks. You also stop your go-to of rubbing his head when you’d greet him or playing with the ends of his hair when you were bored.

Megumi thought maybe something was bothering you, but then he noticed how you’d still laugh and joke around with Yuji and Nobara, your hand gripping onto their shoulder when they’d tell an extra funny joke or affectionately patting them on the back. That wasn’t the worst though. The worst was when you’d absentmindedly sweep Yuji’s hair back into place when it got messy from training. The jealousy it sparked in Megumi was the last straw that makes him decide to ask you what was wrong.

You’re surprised when he tugs on your sleeve, interrupting your conversation with Itadori and Kugisaki. “Hey, can we talk?”

“Sure,” you say, nodding off to Itadori and Kugisaki before following Megumi to the waterspouts outside. You both sat together on the brick square surrounding the structure. It’s a few quiet seconds of you staring at Megumi as he folds his hands in front of him and lazily taps his foot. Dark blue eyes stare at you before dropping back to the ground.

“Are you still mad at me for yelling at you the other week?”

You shake your head. “I told you it’s fine. I’m not mad at you about that.”

“Then, it’s something else,” he decides, and he desperately tries to rack his brain for what else he could have possibly done wrong, “I’m sure I didn’t forget your birthday or anything. Do you not like me anymore or something?”

Gasping, you deny his claim, “Of course I like you, why would you think I don’t?”

“Because you’re not so friendly with me anymore like the way you are with the others, so either you’re upset with me, or you don’t have the same feelings for me as you do with them.”

“It’s neither of those things. With Yuji and Nobara, they’re both sociable people, but you aren’t like them. You don’t like all that kind of stuff, and I don’t want to annoy you by doing things you don’t like.”

Megumi scowls at your confession, sighing because he remembers exactly why you must be talking like this so suddenly. He specifically called your touches annoying, and he inwardly curses at himself for it. “You’re wrong. It’s not that I don’t like it…” he begins unsurely then pauses.

“Then, what?”

Megumi groans softly, an embarrassed heat starting to build in his cheeks as he quietly croaks out, “Feels good.”

“What’s that?” you ask, scooting closer so you can hear him better.

Megumi blushes lightly and cranks his head to look away from your cutely confused blinking. “It feels good when you do it,” he repeats robotically.

“When I do what?”

“When you play with my hair,” he hesitantly explains in more detail, “When Gojo does it, it’s aggravating, but I don't mind so much with you.”

Hesitantly, you ask, “So is it okay if I do it now?”

Megumi nods. “If you want.”

Cautiously, you lift your hand, pulling back in doubt a few times before ultimately sliding your fingers through his hair and rubbing. Megumi groans softly at your touch, and you realize that all those rushed noises of aggravation were actually him moaning from how light and comforting your touch was. You move your hand forward and backward some more, massaging his head until his head starts nodding and his eyes flutter a bit.

You giggle at him. “Are you falling asleep? You’re such a kid.”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.”

You laugh louder as he scoffs to hide his embarrassment.

“In that case, you can sleepover with me tonight, and we can do this if you want,” you offer sweetly, and Megumi glances at you, thinking it over. As your smile grows and your hand hits that sweet spot right at the nape of his neck, he couldn’t deny that he liked the idea of falling asleep with you playing with his hair.

“I’d like that.”

#megumi x you #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #megumi fluff #jjk megumi #look at me finally writing something sfw for him #i have like 5 wips that all revolve around this boy

[violettelueur]

ITADORI YUJI + FUSHIGURO MEGUMI + GOJO SATORU + RYŌMEN SUKUNA || HOW THEY WOULD APOLOGISE TO THEIR MAD S/O

| featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + gojo satoru + ryomen sakuna from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors and a lot of my side comments

| form : headcanons

| published : 27 november

| request : Hello! How are you? Hope you’re taking care of yourself :3 can I request headcanons for Itadori, Megumi, Gojo, and Sukuna making their s/o really mad for x reason and what they would do to make it up to them/apologize? Thank you have a great day/night!

| barista’s notes : hiya! this one was kind of hard for me to do since it was hard to come up with reason on why you were mad at them (some of them are really stupid in my opinion...ʕ ﾟ ● ﾟʔ) but this update is going to be the last one for the night since it is 12am aka midnight and i’m going back to school after being in isolation for 14 days!＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／thank you so much for requesting for a cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and please come again soon!

ITADORI YUJI:

Itadori will be the most clueless boy ever and doesn’t even know that you are mad at him in the first place.

It might take a few days or a few hours at best for him to realise that you were mad at him - probably Fushiguro will tell him that you are pissed at the boy.

Once he FINALLY finds out that you are angry at him, he would try to think back on what he could have done to make you angry at him - and boy, does he think long and hard because once again to remind you: he is clueless.

Did he do something stupid again? Did he accidentally eat your food again? Did he forget something? DID HE FORGET AN IMPORTANT DATE? 

Yes, when he tries to recall what he did that made you annoyed at him, he does tend to overthink it.

You know what you were mad at him for? He had indeed eaten something of yours by accident. The reason why you were mad at him was because he ate the last of your ramen that you were saving after the mission that you were set was finished.

Now since Itadori thought he was completely screwed, he would full-on plan a whole game/movie night with you. 

Sukuna would lowkey mock the dude as Itadori was preparing his room causing our poor boy to worry even more since Sukuna was making him feel more nervous.

This preparation of his will include the game consoles set up, piles on DVDs on the table for you to choose for the both of you to watch and your favourite ramen that he brought from the closest store - that he also still doesn’t know he ate accidentally ate - cooked and set on the table for you guys to munch on.

Once everything is prepared, he would slap Sukuna’s mouth if he is still talking and would make his way to your room.

Now, this can go two different ways:

1. You are too stubborn to give in and refuse to leave the room that he would beg you and lowkey will physically drag you out of your room.

2. You would sigh and agree to follow him to see if he realises what was the issue and see what was going on because there was a lot of ruckus in his room from what you heard.

Once you see his room, you are generously surprised at what he had prepared since you didn’t think he would put this much effort to apologise to you - you generally just wanted a verbal ‘sorry’ but this was too cute to not forgive him.

Once both of you settle down and get into what YOU had chosen to do, he would apologize in a nervous tone since he STILL doesn’t know why you were mad at him.

“Yeah babe, I’m really sorry for what I did, well...I still don’t know what I did but I kinda notice you were mad at me and I didn’t know what to think since I thought I forgot a date that he planned or-”

This boy will ramble and ramble until you stop him by kissing him since you didn’t realise that he was overthinking it.

“Baby, don’t overthink it, I was mad because you ate the last ramen packet that I was saving but this whole thing really was a lot then what I expected, but thank you so much for preparing this whole thing! I love you!”

“Am I forgiven then?” - this boy I-

“Yes yes yes you are, I forgive you Yuji”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI: 

Fushiguro Megumi. Now how do I say this? This pretty boy will be between not realising that you are mad and realising instantly that he had angered you.

When he doesn’t realise that you are mad at him, he would notice the small behaviour changes that you express from a slight frown on your face or now you would give him short answers.

Short answers being: “yeah”, “alright”, “okay”, “nah” ect, with the longest answers being “that’s fine/cool” or “I’m not feeling it”

But! That was only towards him, with the other guys you would give more detailed answers to them, making him surprised since he probably asked the same thing.

Once he realised that you were annoyed, (like Itadori) he would try to wonder what he had done wrong and (unlike Itadori) he would most likely figure out what he had done wrong this time.

The reason why you were mad at him? You were angry at the pretty boy because he was hiding his feelings again.

Even though you knew that Fushiguro wasn’t one to express his emotions freely like the others, you both promised each other that you would go to each other when either one of you was having issues or problems that were bothering you.

And since you knew that Fushiguro held in his emotions, you allowed him time to come to you when he needed - but this time, you knew there was something that was bothering him extremely to the point where he was getting distracted during missions

Distracted to the point where he was nearly hit if you didn’t come to protect him and allow him to snap out of his daze.

Now that the reason was identified, Fushiguro would quickly try to figure out how to now apologise to you. 

Since Fushiguro is a good listener, he would most likely buy a small bouquet of your favourite flowers since he remembered you mentioning that random fact from a conversation that you both had around when you and Fushiguro first met, trying to get to know each other.

He doesn’t apologise in front of anyone because this little issue was about you and him and not everyone else.

So when he found you somewhere in the hallways, he would lightly place a hand on your shoulder before shoving the flowers in front of your face - since he didn’t want you to see his flushed face.

Of course, you are really surprised since who wouldn’t be when a bunch of your favourite flowers just randomly appear in your face.

Once you take the flowers from his grasp, he would probably have a hand scratching the back of his neck - why was he nervous now when seconds before he was just fine?

“I’m really sorry…….for not telling you what was going on, I just didn’t want to bother you with my issue and all that,” - this would be said in a low mumble that you nearly couldn’t catch what he said.

“Mimi, telling me what is bothering you isn’t a bother, I want you to be okay, just please when you’re comfortable to come to talk to me, if you need a shoulder to lean on, I’m right here,”

There are times when Fushiguro forgets that you don’t mind him ranting off when he needs to and that you are a shoulder that he can lean on - he just used to keeping everything in until he met you.

“Also, you remember my favourite flowers, thank you so much, Mimi, you are forgiven, I love you,”

Just seeing you smile at him again after so long is enough for him to smile as well, knowing that you have forgiven him.

GOJO SATORU:

Mr Gojo ‘steal your girl’ Satoru. 

Now this man will make you mad on a daily but not to the point where you are now.

And Gojo will notice INSTANTLY that you are mad at him because he is so used to making you mad due to his constant teasing.

But this time you weren’t mad at him because he took his teasing over the line. No, no, no, you were mad at him because he was late for your date.

Even though Gojo is known to be very handsome and the ‘perfect’ person to everyone on the outside of the shaman world, his lateness was one of his worst traits about him.

Sometimes you ask yourself if he does this on purpose - but in the back of your mind, you know that he attracts many curses and that he had to fight them - but this time, you knew that he was late because he was just late.

So while you’re waiting for him with a slight scowl on your face, you would constantly check your phone to see if he texts you or just to check the time.

Of course, he would send the usual ‘I’m going to be late’ with a cute emoji at the end - like that was going to make your anger lessen at all.

But when he does text you that he had arrived at the date location, you were ready to explode at him for making you wait - for like how many dates now?

However, once he arrives with his fashionably late safe, he would come prepares - Haha try to get mad at him now~

In his hands, there would probably be a white bag containing the souvenir that he had been wanting to give you after his mission but didn’t have the time to, or a white box containing your favourite cake from your favourite cake shop/cafe/bakery.

Damn it, this guy knows that food always solves every issue~

“Sorry for being late to our date honey~ I wanted to get you your favourite cake that I forgot that there was going to be a long line at this time, hope you can forgive me~”

THEN THIS MAN WILL TILT HIS SUNGLASSES GLASSES TO LET YOU SEE HIS CRYSTAL BLUE EYES - LIKE WHY????

Damn it, now you can’t stay angry at this man.

The fact that he dressed up so nice, got you your favourite cake and let you see his beautiful eyes made you realise that you can no longer be mad at him.

Like the boy put in the effort today…

Taking the cake from his hands, you would probably blush and say “thank you...but I’m still mad at you”

If you say this, be prepared for this man to cup your cheeks and continuously kiss you, trying to affectionately make you forgive him. 

Okay okay okay, now he’s just trying to be very very cute.

“Am I forgiven now honey~ I’m sorry that I made you wait, please don’t be mad at me”

“Okay, okay! I forgive you!”

Expect that cheeky smile that he would give you after you forgive him - I mean like, you have to now.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

Apologise? Would he? Does he even know what ‘sorry’ means? Do you think he would?

If he really cares about you, he would probably push away his pride and there would be a 50/50 chance that he would apologise, so don’t expect it much.

But if you were really mad at him and ignore him for most of the day, he would probably get very very annoyed.

Why weren’t you paying him any attention? Why weren’t you looking at him? Why weren’t you asking for him to shift with Yuji and let him have you all to himself? Why?

The reason? You were mad at him because he exorcised a curse that you knew you had the capability to do yourself.

Does he think you're weak? You were just angry at the thought of Sukuna thinking you were frail since you were an independent woman and he had no right to do your goddamn job.

Once he gets to his boiling point, he would demand Itadoru to switch with him and if his vessel would ignore him for your sake, he would continuously shout at the boy even when he is trying to sleep - poor Itadori……

Once it gets too much for the boy, Itadori would run to you and just randomly grab your shoulders to stop you from what you were doing and quickly explain what was going on.

“Okay, I’m going to switch with Sukuna and you are going to talk to him. He’s been annoying me ever since you stopped talking to him, please shut him up!”

Then before you would even get a single syllable out of your mouth, he would just switch quickly to let the both of you deal with your situation.

“Okay woman, talk to me! What have I done?”

You would probably just stare at with an annoyed look and tut at him before turning your head away like he doesn’t exist.

However, he doesn’t take this action of yours lightly and would probably grab your chin - gently since you are mad at him - and would just start leaving biting your neck.

“Sukuna! Stop it, the marks are going to show!”

“Not until you tell me what I have done wrong woman”

“Sukuna! OKAY! You think I’m weak and I hate the fact that you think I am, I can exorcise curses myself you know!”

Ha? You were mad at him for protecting you? Sukuna thought that it was ridiculous that you were mad at him for that reason - but will just go with the flow because even though you were just a powerful sorcerer to him, you being angry was a slight fear of his (Sukuna fears Oh my….)

“Idiot, I was protecting you”

“I can protect myself dickhead”

“Ha? I apologise, then, there done, do you forgive me?”

Sukuna….what type of apology was that?

If you say no, he would just continue to bite on your neck to make you forgive him since he really wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer.

“Sukuna! Stop it!”

“Not until you forgive me little one,”

Ah, that nickname always gets to you, doesn’t it? - Girl, I don’t blame you….

“FINE FINE FINE! I forgive you, just stop biting my neck”

Looking up at you and looking you at dead in the eyes, he would literally say, “I don’t think so, I was actually having some fun marking your neck, let me continue little one”

I-.....go ahead…….

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #jujutsu kaisen hcs #jjk headcanons #jjk hcs #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #itadori yuji #itadori yujii #itadori yuuji x reader #yuji itadori x reader #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk itadori #jjk fushiguro #jjk gojo #jjk sukuna #itadori yuji headcanon

[xjoonchildx]

greedy | myg x reader | chapter five: do we look like recruiters to you?

summary: being a loner has never bothered yoongi until now.  until you.

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 6.7K

notes:  thank you all so much for rolling with the changes to my posting schedule. it’s been a while since i posted an update and i really wanted to give you guys a chapter. plus it makes more sense, in my mind to break it out like this.  in this chapter, you’ll notice that ko starts calling OC “jagiya.” thank you to the korean reader who brought to my attention that my previous nickname for her didn’t fit as well as this one! 

anyway, you guys make me endlessly happy with your feedback on this story. i’d love to hear what you think of this chapter.  beta read by @hobi-gif​ because i would wither away without her analysis. also beta’d by the awesome @btsarmy9593​ who has been so awesome to give me her feedback. thank you to @augustbutwinter​ for the words of encouragement. and of course, the boos @ladyartemesia​ and @untaemedqueen​ pitched in to help me in this journey as well.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

*************************

Min Yoongi wakes up with a problem.  Well a few problems, actually.

The first is that he has to pee.

The second is the head-to-toe pain that starts to register the moment his sluggish brain kicks into gear.  He starts from the bottom -- gingerly wiggling his toes, carefully stretching his legs -- and slowly works his way up, taking mental inventory of what hurts and what doesn’t.

A lot of shit is landing on the hurts list right now.

The third problem -- and perhaps the most pressing -- is the problem pressing into his side right now.

Your hair is still damp.

Yoongi noses into it and lies in the quiet for a while, breathing you in while you sleep.  You smell like his shampoo and his soap.  You’re wearing his t-shirt and basketball shorts.  You are covered in him; fitted to him.  Solid and warm and real.

Which brings him to his next problem.  

This is the kind of feeling that’s way too easy to become addicted to.  The kind of feeling that makes you do stupid shit.  Take away the mangled body and the looming safety concerns and this is easily the best morning of his life.

That’s why when you stir and burrow a bit deeper into his side, Yoongi ignores the pain radiating from his sore ribs.  He ignores the way his arm has fallen asleep under you, ignores the intermittent buzzing of his phone from the nightstand warning of missed texts.

He ignores the tiny voice in his head that says don’t get attached to this feeling.

Yoongi ignores everything but you and this because right now, it’s the only thing he wants to think about.

And then he’s drifting off again.

***************************

This time, Yoongi wakes up alone.

The deep steadying breath he takes while he’s trying to work up the nerve to get out of bed hurts like hell.

Everything hurts like hell, actually -- the back of his head where he can feel scrapes left behind by the brick wall, his jaw from where he took that driller to the face.  His knee from where he jammed it into that fucking goon’s stomach.  

But his shoulder is what’s really fucking everything up right now.

He can’t remember telling you where to find the sling or how you got it on.  Can’t remember you positioning his pillows around his injured arm or slipping into bed beside him.  He’d been so fucked up by the pain and the adrenaline withdrawal that he’s pretty sure he blacked out at some point.  

So Yoongi lies there for a minute, trying to piece together what he can remember of last night.  

The memories come back to him blurred and disjointed, out of order.

He remembers feeling like he might vomit when you shoved his shoulder back into place.  Awkwardly accepting your help taking off his jeans so he could shower.  Nearly falling to his knees under the hot water.  Pulling himself together long enough to stash his gun in a drawer when you’d stepped away.

And it’s that last memory that makes his chest go tight.

Last night, hiding his gun seemed like the right thing to do.  A way to keep you separate from the ugliness he normalized a long time ago.  But this morning the half-assed lie of omission makes him feel guilty as hell.  A pathetic attempt to delay the inevitable.  Chewing gum jammed into the crack of a dam.

He has to tell you about that gun.

So he gets to work on dragging his ass out of bed.  It takes him way too damned long to sit upright, way too damned long to slide himself off the edge of the mattress.  Longer than that to slowly limp his way into the bathroom where he pees for what feels like a solid ten minutes.

He’s still rubbing the sleep from his eyes when he spots the bright red toothbrush sitting in the cup on his sink.  

It’s just some cheap throwaway he brought home after his last visit to the dentist -- a long-forgotten backup that’s been stashed in the cabinet under the bathroom counter for months.  But now it’s sitting out in the open, in that cup. Right next to his own blue one.

Yoongi stares at it and scrubs a hand over his face.

And that tiny voice in his head gets a bit louder.

************************

He finds you seated at his piano, bare-faced and hair tousled.  Fingers tracing light patterns across the keys of his custom instrument, gaze taking in all of the tiny details he paid a small fortune for.

He could have stayed there for a while, just appreciating the view had you not caught him staring.

Your dark eyes flick up to find his and Yoongi’s pulse quickens at the warmth in them.  At the soft, shy smile that comes over you just before you clear your throat and lower your eyes back to the keys.

“Beautiful,” you sigh.  

No kidding, Yoongi thinks.

He crosses the room slowly.  Tries his hardest not to limp but the throb in his knee makes that nearly impossible.  Sadness flashes across your face as you watch him sink heavily onto the bench beside you.  

“I can help you, you know,” you admonish softly.

Yoongi shrugs, motioning to the sling.  “You already have.”

He stills when you reach one hand out to brush your fingertips across the redness on his jaw.  You stroke your thumb across his aching cheek and Yoongi leans into the touch, savoring the feeling of your skin against his.

“Yoongi,” you whisper, “I’m so sorry you’re hurt, and -- ” you pause to shake your head sadly,  “-- and I’m so sorry it’s because I put you in this position.”

Yoongi sucks in a deep breath.

He can’t bring himself to tell you that he can’t think straight when he imagines what could have happened if that fucking goon had gotten you alone.  Can’t bring himself to admit out loud that he could have pulled his gun and ended that piece of shit without losing a second of sleep.  

Would have, had you not been there.

“Better me than you, Doc,” he says thickly.  “You made the right call.”

You press a gentle kiss to his throbbing jaw.

“You still mad at me?”

You whisper the words into the shell of Yoongi’s ear and a slow heat builds in his gut.  

“Yeah,” he lies, dropping a kiss on the delicate skin below your jaw.  He ghosts the tip of his nose against the curve of your neck and you shudder under his touch. He’s forced to check himself, leaning back for a few inches of badly-needed space.  

On the bright side, at least his dick isn’t broken, too.

He clears his throat.  “If that guy had brought backup -- ”

“ -- If that guy had brought backup, he’d have been out of the car long before you left his buddy in a pile on the floor,” you interrupt gently.

Yoongi chuckles.  “Just admit you’re terrible at following directions.”

“You happen to have your MRI results around here anywhere? I’d be interested to see what they say about that shoulder.”  

You raise one brow when Yoongi narrows his eyes at you in response.  “No? Well, then I guess I’m not the only one who’s bad at following directions.”

“Guess not,” Yoongi admits with a smile.  

Your turn your attention back to his piano, touch reverent as you slide one hand across the rich black lacquer.  

“When you first walked in, I was going to say something really dumb like do you play?” you admit with a laugh.  “But no one owns something this magnificent unless they have a passion for it.”

“Yeah, I play,” Yoongi murmurs.  “When I have two functioning arms.”

He’d intended to earn a laugh with that tease, but the joke falls flat.  Sadness creeps back into your features.

“Yoongi,” you say quietly, gaze dropping into your lap.  “I honestly don’t know what would have happened to me last night without you.  And all I can think about this morning is why?  Why did you do this for me?”

Fuck, that’s a loaded question.  

If Yoongi had the balls, he’d tell you straight up that he fell for you the moment he laid eyes on you at Songdo .  That you feel like his chance at something more.  But Yoongi doesn’t say any of that.  

Instead, he coughs up a weak white lie.

“We’re both out here flying solo Doc.  We have to look out for each other.  Besides -- ” he tips your chin up with a gentle press of his fingers and finds your dark eyes glassy with unshed tears.  “ -- I have a thing for that smart mouth of yours.”

He earns a tiny smile from you then, just the slightest curve of your lips.  And he’s this close to kissing the soft, sad expression right off your face when that voice in his mind fucks everything up again.

Tell her about the gun.  

The thought is like a bucket of cold water over his head, jarring him from the intimacy of this moment.  Yoongi swallows thickly before opening his mouth to tell you the truth.  But before he can speak, you do.

“I have something of yours,” you say, reaching into the pocket of your borrowed basketball shorts.  Yoongi watches you produce a worn handmade bracelet and holds his palm open to accept it.  “It fell out of your jacket last night,” you explain.

He rubs his thumb over the smooth metal corners of the cross that dangles from aged leather.  It brings back the memory of his baptism -- of the day Mrs. Bak proudly gifted it to him while he was still damp from the ceremony.  It also brings back the memory of last night -- when he’d clutched it between his fingers and sent a silent plea for protection skyward.

It’s been a long time since he’s prayed.  It’s been a long time since he had anything to pray for.

“Are you religious?” you ask softly.

Yoongi shakes his head.  “Honestly? I don’t know.”  A self-conscious heat creeps up his neck.  “Just makes me feel better, I guess.  Is that dumb?”

“No,” you reassure quietly, bringing one warm hand up to cup his cheek.  Yoongi covers your hand with his, laces his fingers in between yours.  “Not dumb at all.”

Tell her about the gun.

“Doc,” Yoongi whispers thickly, “We need to talk about something.”

Your hand falls away from his face and your spine goes stiff with tension and Yoongi almost loses his nerve.

Almost.

“Okay, so I was, uh -- carrying a gun last night,” he starts, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck,  “I carry a gun all the time, actually.  I hid it because I didn’t want to freak you out.”

You say nothing, expression unreadable.  And Yoongi keeps talking.

“But I don’t want to keep things from you,” he says quietly.  “I want you to know exactly who I am. No half-truths.”

Your eyes drop back down to the piano.  You pluck at one of the keys and a somber note rings out, lingers in the air between you before you speak.

“You have a gunshot wound in your back, Yoongi,” you murmur.  “It’s not exactly a leap of logic.  Besides, I already saw your gun.  It was in your drawer last night when I got you a change of clothes.”

Yoongi nods slowly, processing the fact that you’d discovered the gleaming silver piece and hadn’t written him off right away.  You’d still slept in the crook of his arm last night.  You’re still here right now.

“And yeah, maybe it does freak me out a bit,” you admit.  “But after what I saw last night, maybe I can understand a bit, too.”

Yoongi lets go of the breath he’s been holding and takes your hand in his.  Maybe is as good as he could have hoped for at this point.  Maybe is not a dead end.  

“I have something to tell you, too,” you admit after a moment.  “I’m due at the hospital in a few hours.”

“Doc,” Yoongi groans, hand tightening reflexively around yours.  “You can’t go back there.”

“I don’t have a choice,” you insist, pulling away.  “This isn’t just some job I fell into, Yoongi.  This is years of my life.”

Yoongi is quiet for a few seconds, willing his rising agitation to subside.  He’s careful to check his tone before he speaks.

“You’re not safe there.”

“I have to go back.  I don’t have a choice,” you repeat.  “I can’t afford to get blacklisted and Lee is still my boss. And if he’s already got wind of what happened last night, he’s going to be gunning for me even harder than he already has been.  I have to tread carefully.”

Yoongi shoves a hand through his hair.

“You have to meet me in the middle here, Doc,” he exhales.  “There’s got to be something halfway between you walking right back into that hellhole and you losing your job.  Take a couple of sick days.  Give me some time to figure out who your boss is working with and what I can do about it.  Can you do that?”

You’re quiet for a moment as you consider his proposal.

“Yeah,” you concede softly.  “I can do that.”  

You lift a hand to brush a lock of hair out of his face and press your mouth to his.

Every cell in Yoongi’s body stands at attention.  He cards his fingers into the soft mass of your hair and kisses you slowly -- carefully -- all too aware of the way he’d manhandled you last night.  

Not even the pain in his jaw could take away from how good it feels to touch you like this.  Not even the ache in his ribs could stop him from leaning into you. He slips his tongue past your lips and you whimper, fingers curling into his sore knee.  

He could not give a shit.

Yoongi leaves your mouth to trail kisses down your jaw, and you tip your head back, offering him the soft expanse of your neck.  He accepts it gladly, mouth hot and open on your skin, savoring your scent and taste -- enjoying the way he can feel your pulse fluttering wildly under his lips.

He’s enjoying it all so much that he gets careless.  The elbow of his injured arm connects with the sharp edge of the piano and he recoils instantly.

“Dammit,” he groans. “Fuck.”

“Oh, shit,” you gasp, clapping a hand over your mouth.

The pain is so potent it seems to radiate all the way from his arm to his temples. Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut as he waits for the ringing in his ears to subside.

“Yoongi, your shoulder, it's -- it’s really bad,” you admonish quietly.  “If you keep going like this, the damage is going to be permanent.”

“Trust me, I know,” he sighs.  “I’m going to get this looked at, I just haven’t.”

“I want you to see a friend of mine at Asan today,” you urge.  “He’s a good doctor.  He can get you some pain relief.  Get you back to working condition.”

Yoongi nods weakly, pain still ebbing from his arm.

“But it’s not a substitute for an MRI and it’s not a substitute for surgery,” you warn.  “This is just a temporary fix.  You have to be careful.  Whatever you’re planning, just please be careful.”

Yoongi skates the pad of his thumb over your lips before kissing you just one more time.

“Don’t worry about me, Doc,” he murmurs.  “I’m going to have some help.”

**************************

It’s amazing what a pair of high-powered steroid shots and a bottle of industrial-strength painkillers can do for a guy.  

Yoongi pulls into the parking lot at Maekju feeling almost human again.

If the text messages that have been blowing up his phone all afternoon are any indication, everyone is here tonight.  Everyone with the exception of Namjoon, of course.  He doesn’t drink anymore and even when he did, he always preferred to drink alone.

Jungkook is the first person Yoongi spots, leaned up against a pool table, beer in hand.  He’s watching Jimin and Taehyung face off at billiards while Seokjin and Hoseok sit side-by-side at the bar, deep in conversation.

The maknae’s eyes go a bit wide when he takes in Yoongi’s unusual gait and immobilized arm.

“Holy shit, hyung,” he breathes as Yoongi approaches.  “What the hell happened to you?”

Seokjin whips around in his barstool at the sound of Jungkook’s greeting, but Hoseok doesn’t take the bait.  He stiffens in his seat but refuses to turn around. Stubborn bastard.

“Yoga accident,” Yoongi mutters, stepping up to the bar next to Seokjin.  The older man smirks as he takes a long pull of his beer.

“How’d you drive with that thing on?” Seokjin asks, motioning to Yoongi’s sling.

“Carefully,” Yoongi says dryly.  “Listen, can you give me a minute with Jung here?”

Seokjin’s critical gaze bounces back and forth between Yoongi and Hoseok, who is still resolutely pretending not to notice the conversation taking place just inches from his face.  He stares into a television mounted high above the bar and sips his whiskey with feigned indifference.

“You two need couple’s counseling, I swear,” Seokjin groans, rolling his eyes. He stands to his feet to relinquish his barstool and claps a hand over Yoongi’s good shoulder.  “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Hoseok, the fucking infant, grabs a newspaper abandoned on the bartop and proceeds to pretend to read it.  Yoongi slides into the stool next to him anyway.

“Miss me?”

Hoseok doesn’t answer.

“You’re not gonna say hello?  Not gonna ask me why it looks like I spent all night falling off a cliff?”

“Nope.”

Yoongi waves off the bartender who starts walking in his direction.  The last thing he needs is a drink.  He’s got so many painkillers in his system right now that one sip of booze would probably have him under the bar in seconds.

“Come on Hoseok,” Yoongi sighs.  “Don’t be a dick.  I’ve literally never seen you read a newspaper.”

“I like to stay informed,” Hoseok shrugs.

“Well, I’m trying to talk to you.”

“Oh, so you talk to me now?” Hoseok snickers.  “That’s new.”

Hoseok’s probably earned the right to his petulance, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying.  Yoongi starts to reconsider that drink.

“Jung,” he groans.  “I’m trying to apologize here.”

“So apologize then.”

“Fine,” Yoongi mutters.  “I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole lately.  I’ve been twisted up over some shit that has nothing to do with you or family business.”

Hoseok grabs his whiskey off the bar and finally -- finally -- pivots to face him.

“A giant asshole,” he corrects dryly.  

“Yes. A giant asshole,” Yoongi repeats.  “We good now?”

Hoseok sips his whiskey slowly, eyes narrowed at Yoongi over the lip of his glass.

“Buy me a drink.”

“Fine,” Yoongi hisses, flagging the bartender.  

Hoseok leans back in his barstool, looking a bit smug.

“Now this shit you’ve been twisted up about,” he starts, brow cocked.  “Would this have anything to do with your secret doctor friend?”

“Maybe,” Yoongi admits, scratching at the back of his neck.  His injured shoulder is tired from carrying the extra weight of the sling.  He rolls it gingerly as Hoseok looks on.

“Would this have anything to do with why you look like you got jumped on your way in here tonight?”

Yoongi’s cheeks warm at his partner’s blunt observation.  “Maybe.”

Hoseok drains his whiskey just as the bartender arrives with a fresh one.  He takes a long drink before setting his glass back down on the bar.  His lips purse thoughtfully as he levels Yoongi with a long, assessing look.

“Okay,” he says calmly. “So who do we have to go fuck up?”

**************************

Dr. Lee Geon just looks like a fucking weasel.

Yoongi glares at the man as he strolls into the coffee shop a few blocks from Songdo with just minutes to spare to his shift.  

Lee bears little resemblance to his photos on the hospital website.

He’s thin -- just this side of gaunt -- hollow cheeks prominent below dark under eyes beneath a sparse dusting of greasy hair.  Were he not dressed in a rumpled lab coat and equally creased scrubs, Yoongi might have missed him entirely.

Across the room, Hoseok peers at Yoongi over the top of yet another borrowed newspaper -- is this the guy? -- and Yoongi answers with a furtive nod.  

He goes over the plan they’d worked out in the car in his head.  They’d find the guy -- make sure he was the guy -- and then follow him out of the shop.  Catch him just before he got into his car.  Shake him up a bit before shaking him down for information.

There’s one thing Yoongi still hasn’t worked out, though.

Just how much he’s going to allow himself to hurt this asshole before sending him on his way.  Lee slowly shuffles his way to the front of the line as Yoongi imagines jamming his fist into the man’s stupid fucking face.  Imagines doing it over and over again until the piece of shit is unrecognizable.

Yoongi watches Lee order his drink as he kneads at the tender muscles of his shoulder.

Ditching the sling was probably a bad idea -- definitely against doctor’s orders -- but it was a risk he was more than willing to take.  He’d downed a couple of painkillers and shoved his shoulder into a brace and decided he could deal with the dull throb just for the night.  

No way in hell he was going to confront this scumbag looking like some kid who just fell off his skateboard.  

It doesn’t take long for the barista to put together Lee’s drink.  He grabs his coffee and Yoongi tenses in anticipation of his next move.  But instead of heading for the exit, Lee heads for the bathroom instead.

Yoongi locks eyes with Hoseok across the room and Hoseok raises one brow.

Change of plans?

Yoongi nods.

*****************************

Lee’s coffee sits abandoned atop the sink ledge.

Yoongi and Hoseok slip silently into the bathroom and get right to work.  Hoseok blocks the door as Yoongi quietly creeps past the stalls, ducking his head to peer beneath each one.  Lee’s scuffed sneakers are the only pair of shoes he spots.

His ears pick up on a faint sound coming from inside the locked stall.

It’s a kind of soft, intermittent rasping.  Yoongi concentrates on the noise, isolates it until he comes to the realization that it’s sniffling he’s hearing.  He turns to Hoseok and taps his finger against the side of his nose and Hoseok nods his agreement.

Yoongi shakes his head in disgust.  Is there a single substance this idiot isn’t addicted to?

It takes a moment for the sniffling to subside.  It’s followed by a few seconds of quiet rustling in which Yoongi can picture Lee carefully pocketing whatever’s left of his coke.  The noises from behind the brushed steel barrier finally stop and the next thing Yoongi hears is the distinct clink of the latch coming apart.

Lee swings the door wide -- gets one look at what’s waiting for him on the other side -- and nearly jumps out of his skin.  

He startles so hard that he almost falls backward into the toilet.  But he catches himself, regaining his balance and staring back at Yoongi with wide, worried eyes.

Yoongi stands there and says nothing.

“Excuse me,” Lee mumbles, eyeing him wearily as he tries to slide past.  He takes two steps forward then stops in his tracks when he spots Hoseok.  Lee swallows thickly, eyes darting back and forth between both men.

“Is there a problem gentlemen?” he croaks.

Yoongi takes a step towards Lee.  He shrinks back when Yoongi reaches for his badge, yanking the retractable cord as he pulls it close to examine it.  Yoongi runs his thumb over the raised lettering on the laminated card, letting the taut silence linger for dramatic effect.

Then he lets go of the badge without warning, fighting a smile when Lee flinches as it snaps back into place.

“Yes, we have a problem,” Yoongi confirms pleasantly.  “And yes, it’s you.”

The little color left in Lee’s face immediately drains out.

“Look, I don’t know who you guys are, but you don’t w-want to mess with me,” he stammers, voice cracking comically halfway through his flimsy threat.  “I know people.”

“Oh shit,” Yoongi’s eyes go wide with feigned concern, “You hear that, Jung?  This guy knows people.”

“Sounds scary,” Hoseok chuckles.

Lee starts to breathe harder, chest rising and falling faster.  Pupils blown with fear and coke.

“Now, here’s the difference between you and us, Dr. Lee,” Yoongi explains calmly.  “You know people.  But we -- ” he motions to himself and then to Hoseok, “ -- are people . Do you understand what I’m trying to say here?”

Yoongi punctuates his point by brushing the edge of his open leather jacket aside, allowing his pistol to peek out from underneath.  Lee’s eyes lock on it as he nods slowly, pulling deep, noisy breaths through his nose.

“Great.  Now we don’t have to play the game where you pretend not to know about the bullshit you’ve been pulling over at the hospital, right?”

Lee shakes his head slowly.

“So that means we also don’t have to play the game where you pretend you didn’t send some fucking street goon to rough up a little old lady, either. Right?”

The man’s mouth drops open like his first instinct is to deny that accusation. But he steals another look at Hoseok and shuts it instead.

“And then -- ” Yoongi jabs Lee in the chest with one finger and the man jumps back, “-- you tried to send that same goon after your own resident.  But here’s the thing, Doctor Lee.  She knows people, too.”

Lee’s body goes rigid.  Yoongi watches him process the information with his drug-addled brain, a flare of recognition finally sparking in his dull eyes.

“I saw you at the hospital,” Lee whispers.  “You know her.”

“Don’t worry about who I know,” Yoongi shrugs.  “Worry about what you’re going to say in your resignation letter.”

He advances on the man again, closing the space between them.  Lee tries to back away, but he runs out of room.  He tilts against the stall door.

“Resignation letter?” he echoes weakly.

“The one you’re turning in tonight,” Yoongi explains coolly.  “Before you get the fuck out of Songdo and then get the fuck out of Seoul.”

Lee sputters for a moment, grasping for his next words.  

“Well, where am I supposed to go?” he bleats.

“Do we look like recruiters to you, man?” Hoseok cuts in sharply.  “We don’t give a shit where you go -- you just have to go.  You sure this guy is a doctor, Min?  He seems way too dumb to be a doctor.”

“Nah.  This guy’s a junkie pretending to be a doctor,” Yoongi accuses, dropping any pretense of good humor.  “Pretending to be a tough guy, too.  But all of that ends tonight.”

Yoongi grabs Lee by the chin, jerking his head into place and forcing the trembling man to look him in the eye.

“In ten minutes, you’re going to walk your ass into that hospital.  You’re going to tell them you are leaving.  You are going to take that piece of shit pharmacist and anyone else who’s involved with you.  And then you are never going to step foot in this city again.”

He pauses to enjoy the way Lee’s pupils dilate even wider with fear.

“You’re not too high to understand what I’m saying to you right now, right?”

Lee shakes his head weakly, jaw still pinned in Yoongi’s vice grip.

“Great. Now just one more thing before you go on your merry way,” Yoongi says, voice low with menace.  “Give us the name of your street guys.”

Lee panics.  “I can’t,” he whines from between compressed cheeks.  “They’ll kill me.”

Yoongi grips his face tighter, crushing the man’s jaw and using it to push his body flush against the stall.  His fingers and knuckles turn white with the force of his grasp and Lee groans weakly at the pain.  

“I will kill you,” Yoongi seethes. “Me.  Right fucking now with my bare fucking hands if you don’t give me that name.”

Lee is sweating so profusely that Yoongi wonders briefly if he’s having a heart attack.  He’s probably got enough coke in his system for that to be an actual concern.  But the pathetic little shit manages to pull himself together long enough to follow directions.

“Kkangpae,” he wheezes.

Yoongi’s iron grip stays in place, even as he turns to Hoseok, even as both men exchange a look.  That is something he did not see coming.  Perhaps his recent personal issues are family business, after all.

He finally releases Lee’s jaw and the man rears back, breathing hard.

“You have exactly one day to get the fuck out of this city,” Yoongi instructs quietly.  “And that is not an offer I’m prepared to make twice.”

Lee licks his dry lips, nodding his head slowly like he’s just come out of a trance.  “Okay.”

“Great chat,” Yoongi smiles, patting Lee’s cheek.

Hoseok leaves his post at the door to cross the cramped bathroom and reach for the coffee Lee abandoned minutes ago.  Both men watch in silence as he turns it up over the sink, pours it out, and then tosses it in the trash.

He heads back to the door and holds it open.

“Damn Hoseok,” Yoongi murmurs as he brushes past.  “That was cold.”

*********************************

YOU

There’s buzzing.  Of that, you’re sure.

But in those first few moments that you’re rousing, you can’t be sure if you’re hearing it or dreaming it.  You’re disoriented.  It’s the second time in as many days you’ve woken up in an unfamiliar bed.

Shafts of sunlight pour through the blinds and you squint at them, trying to get a sense of the time of day.  If the amber tinge is any indication, it’s late into the afternoon.

The buzzing sounds again.

You roll to your side to grab your cell phone off the nightstand and blink at a long list of waiting texts.

ko: wake up sleeping beauty [ 11:36 AM ]

ko: i have news [ 11:45 AM ]

ko: big news [ 12:22 PM ]

ko: and gaeran tost-u [ 1:02 PM ]

ko: ready for you to wake up now [ 1:43 PM ]

ko: don’t mind me just gonna bang a few pots and pans [ 2:11 PM ]

Any curiosity over Ko’s big news is overshadowed by the way your heart drops when none of those messages is from Yoongi.  

Before you’d left his apartment, he’d asked you to stay.  He’d cleared his throat and looked down at his hands and explained that he’d feel better if you weren’t alone until this entire mess was settled.  But the way he looked at you in those last few minutes together made you feel like his proposition was about much more than just your protection.

It made you want to say yes.

Never mind that it’s insane to feel so at home in his personal space -- or that coming to that realization might have sent you into a mild panic.  In the end, you’d had to say no because you couldn’t bring yourself to leave Ko on her own while this madness played out.

You rub the sleep out of your eyes and fire off two quick texts.

you: i hope you’re okay. please be careful [ 2:33 PM ]

you: up now. be down in five [ 2:34 PM ]

**************************

Ko makes good on her promise of gaeran tost-u.

You’re greeted by the pleasant smell of the sugared egg dish as you walk down the stairs.  Ko sits at her kitchen table, eyes shining with excitement, and pushes a plate at you when you slide into the chair across from hers.

“Eat,” she orders sweetly.  Your stomach rumbles on cue and you waste no time digging in.

“This is really good,” you declare around a mouthful of bread and eggs.  “I might have to live with you forever.”

Ko smiles wide and the expression makes you feel warm from the inside out. The bruising on her face is barely visible now, easily hidden with a little makeup. Her eyes crinkle with happiness as she watches you eat without saying a word.

“Alright,” you sigh, loathe to stop eating even for as long as it takes to speak.  “Spill it. You look fit to burst.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” she complains cheerfully.  “Dr. Lee is gone.  Walked into Songdo last night and walked out forever.”

You gasp halfway through your next bite, sputtering as you try to catch your breath around a mouthful of toasted bread.  Ko stands to grab you a glass of water which you gratefully accept.

“Well, don’t die on me now,” she teases, “Because there’s more.  Nang left, too.  And Tuan and Beom from pathology.  All four of them quit without even so much as a notice, Jagi.  Isn’t that wild?”

You sip your water slowly and Ko’s eyes flash as she watches you.

“Yoo called me early this morning and said the entire hospital is talking about it. There’s a bunch of crazy theories going around.  And here I am, drinking my tea.  Thinking about how you took a few sick days and showed up here. Thinking about how healthy and rested you look right now.  Isn’t that interesting?”

You nod, jamming the sandwich back in your mouth for an obnoxiously large bite.

“And I can’t help but wonder if there’s some connection between this very convenient development and my very sweet, secretive friend.”

Ko’s mouth twists into a teasing smile as you chew your food absurdly slow.

“That sandwich isn’t going to last forever, Jagi,” she says dryly.  She lifts her teacup to her mouth and takes a dainty sip.  “And trust me, I have nothing but time.”

She leans back, cup in hand.

“Okay, so I might know something about it,” you admit after a while.  “But there’s still a lot I don’t know.  And I’m not sure how much of this you want to hear.”

Ko tuts under her breath.

“I want to hear it all.  I’ve got quite a few years on you and trust me, very little shocks me anymore.  So now you spill it.”

You take another sip of water and clear your throat.

“Okay,” you exhale.  “So there’s this guy -- ”

“ -- Oh, I love it when stories start like this,” Ko interrupts.  She props her chin up with her hands like you’re telling a bedtime story and you shake your head with a wry smile.

“He’s been kind of… helping me, I guess.”

“Helping you,” Ko echoes.  “As in helping you out of your clothes?”

“No,” you deny hotly, cheeks warming.  “He’s a friend.”

Ko doesn’t bother to call you out on the weak lie.  But her face says what her mouth doesn’t when one skeptical brow raises high.

“Go on.”

“I told him about what was going on at the hospital and he said he could help me,” you explain slowly.  “So I’m pretty sure he figured out a way to run off Lee and Nang.”

Ko taps her finger against the side of her teacup.

“So let me see if I have this right,” she muses.  “You tell this friend -- who you’ve never once mentioned, by the way -- that you’ve been having this very dangerous trouble at work.  And then your friend somehow manages to convince two grown men who’ve worked at Songdo for years to give up their high-paying jobs and up-front access to IV drugs overnight.”

You shift uncomfortably in your chair.

“And just like that -- ” Ko snaps her fingers for emphasis, “ -- they’re gone without so much as a fuss.”

You nod weakly.

“Jagi,” Ko’s voice drops low.  “I take it your friend’s not a mailman, is he?”

“No,” you mumble.  “Definitely not.”

Ko hums under her breath.  She carefully lifts her teacup to drink, eyes trained on you over the rim.  Her quiet scrutiny makes you anxious.

“Can I ask you a question?” she asks after a long pause.

“If I said no would that stop you?”

“Not a chance,” Ko laughs.  “Would this friend happen to be the mysterious, handsome man who asked for you in the ER a few weeks back?”

Mind like a steel trap, this woman.  You should have known Ko would make that connection and fast.  There’s no point in denying it, so you don’t.

“Yes,” you whisper thickly. “He is.”

It’s hard to get a read on Ko’s reaction.  Over the years, you’ve come to rely on her sweetness and wisdom and warmth.  But now, as you stare into her dark eyes and try to interpret her careful expression, you realize there’s something else you need from her.

Her approval.

“Ko, I think I -- ” you pause to choose your words carefully, “ -- I think I might be in really deep with this guy.”

Ko snorts.

“Oh, I think you might be right about that, Jagiya .  And if he’s helping you with something like this?  Chances are, you’re not alone.”

“Yeah,” you exhale, wringing your hands together beneath the table.  “Thing is -- I need you to tell me I’m not making a mistake here.”

The corners of Ko’s mouth lift into a soft expression of surprise.

“Oh, Jagi,” she chides sweetly.  “You know I can’t tell you that. I don’t know anything about this man.”  She reaches across the table to cover your hand with her own.  “But you do.  You’re the only one who knows how you feel about him.  And you’re the only one who knows if he’s a good man underneath it all.”

Ko squeezes your hand and you turn your head before she can see the tears that threaten in your eyes.  The amber sunlight outside her kitchen window is shifting orange now, flares of light reflecting off the glass.  

You stare at them and think about Yoongi.

Until now, it’s like you’ve been splitting him into two different men -- the bruised, bloody con artist from the exam room and the quiet, teasing flirt from the coffee shop.  Until now, it’s been the only way to reconcile your complicated feelings.

But it's well past time you accepted the truth.

The same Yoongi whose cheeks had pinked when he’d asked you to stay is the same Yoongi you watched beat the shit out of a hired thug.  The Yoongi who carries a cross is the Yoongi who carries a gun.  They’re two halves of one whole.  

And you can’t pine for one and reject the other.

Your cell phone buzzes from the pocket of your pajama pants.  You reach for it, relief coursing through you when you spot Yoongi’s name on the screen.

yoongi: one more thing to do before we can talk [ 3:01 PM ]

yoongi: it’s cold outside, be sure to bundle up [ 3:01 PM ]

Yoongi’s random mention of the weather confuses you.  You stare at the texts and Ko stares at you, concerned by the baffled expression on your face.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, no,” you insist, shaking your head.  “Just, um -- ”

Bundle up.   A tingle runs up the length of your spine as realization slowly creeps over you.  

“Excuse me for a moment,” you murmur, slipping out of your seat.

Ko watches you dash up the stairs, slack-jawed.

You make a beeline for your borrowed room, throwing open the closet doors to find the coat you’d left hanging there on arrival.  The coat you’d worn to and from Yoongi’s.  You hurriedly dig into the pockets, fingers immediately making contact with something hard and jagged.  

You pull it out.

The shiny silver key in your palm looks like it’s never been used, sharp edges gleaming in the waning sunlight streaming into this room.

You don’t have to guess what it’s for.

You just close your fingers around it and hold it tight.

*****************

tag list!

@heroesfan101 @kpop-saved-ruinedme @mono-kookie @ctvrty @bluewhale52 @thenopekid @uhgood-dooghu @youwannabelostandnotbefound @yiyi4657 @daydreambrliever @mstbeautifulmmt @darktsuki0 @mademysongtakeflight @fireflyinsummer @paperpurple @btseditsworld @outrofenty @taestannie @sloanferg @codeinebelle @lachesissays @peachyseokjini @mxxnarchive @preciouschimine @jiminiscricket @loveyoongles @clearfishmugbonk @coffeeismylife28 @jalexad @djasheyash99 @mxxnarchive @btsmylife21 @rm4lyf @scraithed @rkchmestizangmaldita @captainorangegoose @mrsfortune1306 @neverthefirstchoice @krystle1990 @meowmeowyoongles @katerbees @btsbunny07 @fuckshituplikeaboss @nightshadevinter @laabellaavitaa21 @spookyricewithsoysauce @veronawrites @athenakyle @nightalight @jammyhc @poohsaidhi @jeon-joker​ @liebeoppa @jeonmisha @ambersaesthetics @katy23rnvlues @iridescent-5 @jadeblackwoll @hesperantha @kaitswrld @140503at-dawn @rayasunshine33 @shrimpmsg @katbonv @crom-lus @rm4lyf @wisetacojudgespy @jeonmisha @angstyyoongi @ahgasearmyfan @cheesecakes-randomshitz @bansheehunteremissary @prybts @singjisu @barbikatherine @mygscafe @kpopheart2 @deathkat657 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @vari8tions @mygscafe @sugaslittlekookies @moonsjoons @moon-and-solar-smiles @rageyoudamnednerd @mayafravoli @illwritetomorrow @minyoongiboongi @httpminyg @ahgasearmyfan @monaco91 @blackcrystalswan @yoongitoo @singjisu @mixedfandxms @iamnamjoonsbxtch @delicate-snow-flake @theariel85 @ardoren @sumzysworld @jrobmorebangtan @fangurl-ontgeside @angiexyoung @study-clouds @jaxx-7 @sleeping-with-the-fishies

#yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #min yoongi smut #min yoongi x reader #ficswithluv #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #btswriterscollective

[bananonbinary]

Time for a Salty Meta Post about Martin!

people who’ve followed this blog for a bit know that spending six hours combing through text for some goddamn sources is my specialty, so i compiled every time jon ever talked about martin’s work in season 1. which for the record, he stopped complaining about all the way back in episode 26, where he was angry that martin of all people got hurt.

things jon gets mad at martin for:

not being able to find records that don’t exist

not being able to find someone based only on a first name

the Dog

not wearing trousers in his off-hours

being the one that got caught up in the jane prentiss thing

mag 004 and mag 012 both have jon taking potshots at martin over research that was proven accurate by outside sources

things jon has never once complained about:

martin not understanding the filing system and just putting stuff away at random

martin being clumsy, constantly ruining things, spilling tea everywhere everyday, etc

martin turning in incompetent, poorly-edited, or badly formatted reports

martin not understanding the terminology used, skills expected, etc., and generally being extremely new to the field

please for the love of god stop making martin the silly bumbling idiot who can’t do anything right just because he doesn’t have a formal education. there’s zero evidence for it in the text, and it’s really weird to act like a 4 year degree would outweigh the *10 years* of job experience he has, not just in academia, but in the institute itself by season one. my boy has worked there longer than ANY of the rest of the main cast. screw you guys.

tl;dr: martin is never once shown to be bad at his job, jon pretty much only ever gets mad at him for the really stupid first impression and also not finding stuff that no one else was able to find either. after martin got hurt, jon talks about his research basically the same way he talks about tim’s or sasha’s work.

fucking proof under the cut:

(i didnt include the s1 finale or martin’s statement bc that’s just...two entire episodes of them talking to each other, but there isn’t really any notable Martin Complaints in either of them imo)

I swear, if he’s brought another dog in here, I’m going to peel him.

[pre-launch trailer]

.

Well, technically three, but I don’t count Martin as he’s unlikely to contribute anything but delays.

[...] Alongside this Tim, Sasha and, yes, I suppose, Martin will be doing some supplementary investigation to see what details may be missing from what we have.

[MAG001 Anglerfish]

.

Martin couldn’t find any records of Ex Altiora as a title in existent catalogues of esoteric or similar literature, so I assigned Sasha to double-check. Still nothing.

[MAG004 Pageturner]

.

I had Martin conduct a follow-up interview with Mr. Woodward last week, but it was unenlightening. Apparently there have been no further bags at number 93 and in the intervening years he has largely discounted many of the stranger aspects of his experience. I wasn’t expecting much, as time generally makes people inclined to forget what they would rather not believe, but at least it got Martin out of the Institute for an afternoon, which is always a welcome relief.

[MAG005 Thrown Away]

.

Martin was unable to find the exact date the original house was built but the earliest records he could find list it as being bought by Walter Fielding in 1891.

[...]

We cannot prove any connection, but Martin unearthed a report on an Agnes Montague, who was found dead in her Sheffield flat on the evening of November 23rd 2006, the same day Mr. Lensik claims to have uprooted the tree.

[MAG008 Burned Out]

.

According to Martin, who was here when they took this statement, it was at this point in writing that Mr. Herbert announced he needed some sleep before continuing. He was shown to the break room where he went to sleep on the couch. He did not awaken; unfortunately succumbing to the lung cancer right there. Martin says the staff had been aware of how serious Mr. Herbert’s condition was, and had advised him to seek medical aid prior to giving his statement, but were told rather bluntly by the old man that he would not wait another second to state his case. I can’t decide whether this lends more or less credibility to his tale.

[MAG010 Vampire Killer]

.

“Veepalach” might also be a mishearing of the Polish word “wypalać”, according to Martin, which means to cauterize or brand. Admittedly, if Martin speaks Polish in the same way he “speaks Latin,” then he might be talking nonsense again, but I’ve looked it up and it appears to check out.

[MAG012 First Aid]

.

I sent Martin to look into this ‘Angela’ character - not that I want him to get chopped up, of course, but someone had to. Apparently, he spent three days looking into every woman named Angela in Bexley over the age of 50. He could not find anyone that matches the admittedly vague description given here, though he informs me that he had some very pleasant chats about jigsaws. Useless ass.

[MAG014 Piecemeal]

.

Martin declined to help with this investigation as he’s “a bit claustrophobic”

[MAG015 Lost John’s Cave]

.

There simply aren’t enough details given in this statement to actually investigate, short of Martin confirming that Mr. Vittery did indeed live at the addresses he provided.

[MAG016 Arachnophobia]

.

Oh, he’s off sick this week. Stomach problems, I think.

Blessed relief if you ask me.

[...]

I asked Martin to try and hunt down Mr. Adekoya himself for a follow-up, but have been informed that he passed away in 2006. 

[MAG017 The Boneturner’s Tale]

.

MARTIN

Well, I need to tell someone what happened, and you can vouch for the soundness of my mind, can’t you?

ARCHIVIST

…

That is beside the point.

[MAG022 Colony]

.

Martin! Good lord man, if you’re going to be staying in the Archives, at least have the decency to put some trousers on!

[MAG023 Schwartzwald]

.

Martin found one other thing while combing through police reports for the Hither Green area. About a month after this statement was given, on May 15th, 2015, police were called out to once again investigate the chapel.

[MAG025 Growing Dark]

.

I know, but it would have to have been Martin, wouldn’t it? I mean, anything goes wrong around here, it always seems to happen to him. Anyway, we’re getting off topic. Why didn’t you report this?

[MAG026 A Distortion]

.

Martin made contact with the son, Marcus McKenzie, but he declined to talk to us, saying that he’d “already made his statement.”

[MAG027 A Sturdy Lock]

.

Tim and Martin had a bit more luck investigating Tom Haan, though only really enough to confirm that he seems to have completely vanished following his departure from Aver Meats on the 12th of July.

[MAG030 Killing Floor]

.

Martin’s research would seem to indicate the place employed a reasonable number of international staff they preferred to keep off the books

[...]

TIM

Ah well, that’s actually what he was asking, huh! Um, apparently Martin, uh, took delivery of a couple of items last week addressed to you. Did he not mention it?

ARCHIVIST

No, he… Oh, yes, actually. I completely forgot. He said he put it in my desk drawer, hold on.

[MAG036 Taken Ill]

#the magnus archives #LISTEN #i am once again asking people to remember that martin has MORE job experience at the institute than literally any other character #(except elias or i guess maybe rosie) #he's the goddamn veteran not the newbie #fan wank /

[v-hope]

Wineless

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff, established relationship

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: What do you do when you’re out of whiskey and there’s a fancy bottle of wine lying around, which belongs to your girlfriend who just so happens to be out of town? You drink it. And then replace it before she gets back. Or well, at least you intend to, for there’s no way of replacing it when she arrives one night earlier and catches you red-handed.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol (kind of obvious but still)

A/N: Hellooo, I had this request in my ask box for a longgggg time and I had wanted to write it ever since yet never found the right timing, until last night at 2am lol. I hope you guys enjoy!

Whiskey. Whiskey. Whiskey. Whiskey.

Yoongi hummed inside his mind, tapping on the counter a couple of times as his eyes searched for the bottle of strong alcohol he could’ve sworn he had left on that very shelf three weeks ago. Or maybe it had only been half of it, now that he thought about it, for he had drunk some of the expensive liquor that same week you got it for him, when he had been struggling with one particular verse he could just not feel contented with.

Although there was also that one other time last week when he came home not feeling his best after a bad day...

He pouted, defeated eyes still searching around as realisation hit him that there was no bottle of whiskey on sight and there would apparently be no whiskey at all for him that night.

Bummer.

You wouldn’t be home until the next day and he would have a long, lonely night. Hoseok had called him a few minutes ago informing him the bridge of the song he had taken upon writing and needed to turn in by the end of the week was now needed by midnight tomorrow. So, there were only two ways to get the inspiration he so badly needed:

You.

Whiskey.

And right then, he had none of them.

Or well, maybe not precisely, but he could always use some variety, right? So he thought when his eyes fell on the fancy bottle of wine your mum had gifted you when you got the promotion you had so determinedly worked for — the one that had now taken you on a one week business trip to Tokyo, and far away from him and your shared place.

He thought about it for a while —that being three seconds—, before his hand was grabbing it and his feet moved over to where you kept the glasses, grabbing one of them as well before he made his way over to his home studio so he could get started on the new track right away.

Now, he knew how bad it looked, even more when he knew you had been saving it for a special occasion — what special occasion exactly, he had no idea, and he was pretty sure neither did you. But, in his defense, you would be back home tomorrow evening, and that gave him a good couple of hours to drive around the city looking for the same brand —and year— of wine he had stolen from you. Come on, he wasn’t leaving you wineless, of course. He wasn’t a douche. He was just drinking it without your permission… and then replacing it so you would never notice.

Yeah, that was it. That was perfect.

Only he didn’t count on one little detail, and that was you making it home one day earlier. Not wanting to have him worry and make some time out of his busy schedule to go pick you up at the airport like you knew he would, you had decided not to tell him — never having guessed such decision would end up backfiring on both of you. On Yoongi, for he would have no way to replace the bottle before you found out, and on you, for you were now left without that fine wine you had been looking forward to drinking at some point.

“Working so late?” your sweet voice had his head snapping in your direction in a heartbeat.

And maybe if you weren’t so caught up on the way his eyes lit up at the sight of you, you would’ve noticed that part of them held some kind of panic in them — turning around on his chair and rolling it ever so slightly to his right so his body would block the empty bottle from your visual range.

“B-Babe…” he stuttered, partially because of the surprise your unannounced arrival had caused him, partially because of the alcohol having already started to hit. “You didn’t, um… I didn’t know…”

“I know,” you cut him off, knowing well enough what he meant. “Sorry I didn’t let you know, but I was getting here late, as you can see, and I didn’t want you to worry about having to go get me and all that…”

Just like that, he forgot about the wine of yours he was trying to hide altogether, smiling softly and stretching his arms out for you to hold his hands — that being exactly what you did not even two seconds later, having now fully entered his studio and letting his warm hands pull you close to him.

Not really giving you a choice —and not like you would’ve chosen any different—, he pulled you onto his lap, allowing you to sit comfortably on his legs before his hands left yours so they could rest on your back instead, smiling when you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck and leaning in just enough to give your lips a lingering kiss.

“I missed you” he mumbled against your lips, earning a giggle from you and another small kiss to be pressed on his mouth. “Felt so lonely without you…”

“Have you been drinking?” you teased him, both because of his sweet words and because of the way his lips held a rather familiar bitter taste to them.

Of course you would notice right away.

He chuckled, because it was either laughing it off or panicking right before the inevitable happened. And that’s exactly when your eyes fell on the already emptied bottle resting next to a glass on his desk. The one bottle of yours you had been saving and that was now long gone.

It was fair to say, your previous smile was quickly erased from your face — an upset frown taking over your factions instead.

“Tell me that isn’t the one my mum gave me last month”.

And, you see, laughing in these kind of serious situations is never the best thing to do, especially when you know your significant other is upset. But, in both his state and how nervous he was at the idea of you being mad at him, it was all he could do.

“You’re laughing?” you scoffed. “You’re seriously laughing right now?”

He shook his head no, resting his forehead on your shoulder as another chuckle escaped his mouth instead of giving you a proper answer.

“Yoong—”

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” he slurred.

Although inevitably feeling your heart flutter, you rolled your eyes. “You are not trying to get out of this situation with that lame ass line”.

“But you truly are so, so beautiful, baby” he nuzzled that one soft spot in your neck, causing goosebumps to form on your skin.

“Yah, Yoongi. I’m serious” you called him out, placing your hands firmly on his shoulders and gently pushing him away so you could stand up.

“No, no” he stopped you by wrapping his arms tighter around your waist. “I’ll replace it”.

“That’s not the p—”

“I’ll buy you all the wine in the world if you want” he promised. “I was going to replace it to begin with. You were supposed to get here tomorrow”.

“So now it’s my fault for getting here earlier?”

“I mean,” he shrugged. “If you had let me know beforehand...”

Another scoff came out of your mouth, this time crossing your arms over your chest. “Unbelievable”.

“Please don’t…” a tired sigh escaped his mouth. “Please don’t be mad…”

You stayed silent, eyes fixed on the still half full glass next to the empty bottle as you could not help but sulk over the spilled milk, or well, the already drunk wine.

“You just—”

“Please,” he cut you off once more, this time speaking in that cute pouty tone of his you could never help but melt at. “I love you…” his words came out muffled as he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Don’t be mad... I’m sorry”.

This time, a sigh escaped your mouth. What else could you do anyway? The wine was already gone and you were left with a soft, drunken boyfriend who was really trying to make the situation better. Or well, at least trying as hard as his current state allowed him to.

“You better get me the exact same one, Min Yoongi” your threatening words didn’t match the way your face was now resting on his head, as he had buried his face in the crook of your neck by then.

“Mhm…” he breathed, eyes closed as he somehow managed to pull you even closer.

“I mean it, Yoongi” you stood your ground. “Tomorrow”.

He chuckled, planting one more kiss to the spot his mouth had been resting on before he went back up to your eye level. “Tomorrow” his lips parted into a gummy smile. “Don’t keep saving it for too long though…” he lovingly pinched your sides. “Might have to drink it on my own again”.

“Yah!” you pulled slightly away, squinting your eyes in a threatening way the he couldn’t help but find the cutest. “My wine. I will see when it’s the right time to drink it”.

“Our wedding night”.

You froze. “Huh?”

“Our wedding night, tops” he stated, and you were not sure if that was the alcohol speaking or he had really been thinking about marriage with you for a while now. “If you haven’t drunk it by then... we’re having it that night”.

A light, breathy laugh escaped your mouth. “Will we even be home that night?” you questioned, his eyes staring into the wall behind you letting you know he had not taken that into consideration. “Besides, in that case I would only get to drink half a bottle, whereas you’d technically had downed one and a half”.

“Pft,” his shoulders went slightly up. “Okay then, alcohol measuring police”.

Throwing your head back as you now let a throaty laugh out, you went back to him, running your fingers through the short strands of hair falling over his forehead and pushing them back, earning a smile and then a muffled giggle from him when you caught his bottom lip in between your longing ones.

“I will get you two bottles then” he quietly proposed when you pulled away. “One for you to share with me and one for you to get drunk on your own whenever you want”.

“Okay, okay” you giggled, not really minding the whole wine incident anymore as he pressed his lips tenderly on your cheek. “Isn’t there something you’re forgetting, though?”

His eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought at your question — eyes travelling to his left and wasting no time in grabbing the glass that still contained a good amount of wine in it. “You can have what’s left”.

You rolled your eyes. The proposal, he was forgetting the proposal. And you couldn’t help but find amusement in the fact that he had been so quick to talk about your wedding night when there had never been a proposal to begin with. Bold of you to believe you would get your drunken boyfriend to talk about it, though.

Nevertheless, all that aside, you did not hesitate for even a second before you took the glass from his hand.

“Oh,” he blurted out when you were taking a small sip, a smile once again parting his lips as he suddenly seemed to remember something important. “And you just wait for the ring”.

#bts #bts imagines #yoongi imagines #min yoongi #bts fluff #yoongi fluff #kpop #kpop fanfic #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts scenarios #yoongi scenarios #bts reactions #yoongi reactions #bts x reader #min yoongi x reader #bts yoongi #yoongi #bts imagine #yoongi imagine