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dreamyjoons · 4 years

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Our ‘Get Along’ Shirt - pjm

⇢ another day, another endless round of you and Jimin bickering. It’s never ending, all-consuming, and your friends have had enough. Namjoon decides to end it once and for all - with help from a shirt for squabbling toddlers.

Genre/warnings: smut, 18+! ‘enemies’-to-lovers, swearing, semi-public smut, mutual masturbation, fingering, honestly at this point a sweat kink, multiple orgasms, light choking, some spitting, unprotected sex, creampie.

Words: 14.2k lol

A/N: well hello! I’m back baby, and to celebrate i had to exorcise some Jimin demons. Did i talk about him sweating a lot? Yes. Did i use my favourite pic of him for the header? Also yes. Don’t @ me, i already know. I hope you enjoy!!!

"You're so wrong about this, it's actually kind of embarrassing."

"No you're wrong, only an idiot would think the way you do."

"Guys, no one - and I really mean this - no one cares about what kind of cups you need for beer pong. You've been arguing this for like twenty minutes now." Hoseok huffs, sitting back into the couch.

"Eighteen minutes." Namjoon sighs, tipping back his cup and gulping down its contents.

"But solo cups are far superior-"

"Jimin, they aren't!" You snap, dragging your glare away from his rolling eyes, deciding you never wanna look at him ever again.

"Please stop." Jungkook sighs, slipping off the chair beside Hoseok. His eyes flick between you before scanning the rest of the people in the room, slowly moving to the thump of the music. "Gonna find Yoongi and Tae." He mumbles before disappearing through the mass of bodies.

You'd been at the house party for less than three minutes before you and Jimin found a reason to have an argument. At first, it was how late you were - even though you found out he only got there five minutes before you. Then when you commented on the music choices to Yoongi, he found a way to disagree - despite you both knowing he loved the artist. On and on it went. Now here you were; Namjoon and Hoseok on the couch watching you both with bored expressions, Jin tuned out and typing rapidly on his phone beside them. Jimin stood to your left, and you made sure to keep him totally out of your sight.

But it was getting harder to hear him, thankfully. And he was losing steam. The house was crowded and loud, lively dancers everywhere and the smell of alcohol rich in the air. It was already way too hot out, but being stuffed inside at this party was causing everyone to sweat. You could see condensation forming on the walls.

The house was huge and expensively decorated, belonging to some producer friend of Namjoon. Marbled floors met white walls, a rug carpet covering the floor that made you wince when you thought about the price. It was sprawling and full of a ridiculous number rooms. Yet still, people had to squeeze between the spaces, excuses and polite taps lost in the fury of heat and confinement.

You held your can to your forehead to cool yourself down but it had grown warm waiting for you and Jimin to finish your current spout. You grimace but take a sip anyway - at least if you get a buzz you can ignore him for a little. You felt a pit of guilt at making Jungkook leave. But you were riled up, and you couldn't back down. Not to Jimin.

You saw Jimin tip his head back to drink out of the corner of your eye, but you daren't look at him. He was as insufferable as he was hot as hell, and not just in temperature.

However, you had managed to take a better look at him earlier in the night. His beige silk shirt was already sticking to his skin, tucked into tight jeans blacker than you had ever seen. Who wears silk to a house party? The necklace that he always wore sat just below his collarbones, and you're reminded of all the times you've wanted to throttle him with that damn chain. He'd been pushing his dark hair back all night - you could tell by how it fell about his face, silky strands falling into his eyes. Was he wearing some kind of lipgloss too? You grumble into your drink. He was too pretty for his own good.

At first the sparring was fun. There was an attraction there, on your part at least. It was spicy, something hot and fast, a way to see how compatible you were. Maybe you had some feelings for him. Possibly, potentially.

But over time it devolved. It felt like he'd say things just to get a rise out of you, to draw your attention into a battle with him. And now here you were, bitterly avoiding the man's existence.

"God, why is it so hot here?" Jin gasps, blotting his face with his sleeve.

"Probably haven't got the air con on." Jimin shrugs, taking a swig from his glass.

"It's on-" You start, eyes flicking to where you thought you could see a vent in the ceiling. It was open, so you assumed it would be on - it had to be.

"I highly doubt that."

Jimin gives you the look he always does - where he tilts his head back and stares into your soul. His plump lips part, tongue pressed behind his teeth, goading you into his trap. He gets his way every time.

"Why would they not have it on? It's burning hot even without a house full of people."

"Then it's clearly a crappy unit." He shrugs, but his words are quick and his eyes are still intensely focused on you.

"Jimin have you seen the rest of this house? Don't be dumb-"

"Shut up!"

You and Jimin spin to your friends who had all shouted in unison. The ones who could still stand to be around you both arguing, anyway. Several of the dancers that were nearby stopped to look at the exclamation but slowly drifted back into the music - albeit before taking a step further away from your group.

"Enough. I'm gonna put an end to this once and for all." Namjoon gets to his feet and strides away with purpose, standing a head above nearly everyone in the crowd.

You shiftily look at Jimin before silently waiting for Namjoon to return, confusion thick in your brain. You awkwardly chewed on your lip as the seconds ticked by, before finally he stalks back, his bag under his arm.

He throws himself back into his seat, flips open the top of his bag and rifles through.

Finally he pulls out a heap of bright yellow material, and with a small noise, he dumps his bag beside him before bolting up. He unravels the material and holds it up to you, grin growing on his face.

It takes you a few seconds to focus on what he is holding out to you and Jimin - but when you realise, you gasp.

"'Our get along shirt'? Namjoon you've gotta be joking." you splutter, scanning the shirt.

It was a sickly yellow, 'our get along shirt' printed on it in what appeared to be black glitter. It could probably fit both you and Jimin in it, maybe Yoongi could slip in too. It looked somewhat roomy, but that was not the point.

"What?" Jimin asks, lips parted as he stares into the glitter.

"You're both gonna wear it and get over whatever bullshit is going on here." Namjoon says so casually, as if he was asking the time or giving directions. But you saw the seriousness in the minute movements of his face. The clench on his jaw, the hardiness of his eyes.

"We're adults Namjoon, you can't expect us to wear that." Jimin's face had gone into a full blush, but his frown was deep as he stared at Namjoon.

"You are both gonna wear it."

"No-" You shout, but Namjoon pointedly huffs at you, and you take the hint.

"Put the shirt on. By the end of the night, either one of you will have killed the other or you have this sorted out. Because if not, you'll end up pushing us all away. For good." Namjoon finishes with a sigh, the depth of his gaze so severe it confirms that he isn’t playing with you.

You look behind him at Jin and Hoseok, and the direction in which Jungkook had walked away. Jin and Hoseok looked deadly serious, no hint of a smile or a cackle of laughter like you'd expect.

He had a point. You knew it. But it was so hard - Jimin couldn't let things lie, and you couldn't back away from a fight when it was him you were fighting. But to see others dropping out from around you...

"Hand over the shirt."

You spin to stare at Jimin. His face was tight, jaw set and eyebrows drawn. It had dawned on him too, just how far this had gone. But he obviously didn't like the idea of it, and neither did you.

"Fine but if I do kill him I’m taking you all down with me as accessories." You sigh, reaching forward and taking the shirt from Namjoon.

“How long have you had this, Joon?” Jimin asks, fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

“Long enough.”

You turn it in your hands and with a deep breath, you pull the shirt over your head, sticking your arm through the sleeve and head through the collar. Your left arm hangs loosely in the shirt, and you begin to fret about what you should do with it. Maybe you should just stick it in your pocket? You don't wanna brush anything-

Before you could follow that train of thought, Jimin tugs you and the shirt towards him. You follow, gulping thickly. He casts one last look at Namjoon before putting his head under the bottom of the shirt. within seconds his head is through the collar, his shoulder bumping yours as he tries to get comfortable.

The air is thick around you, the extra warmth of him being so close to you making the heat rise on your face. You were strongly aware of every microscopic move he makes, your senses keenly aware of his proximity. He lets out a harsh sigh, and you feel the breath ripple over the collar and down the shirt. A pout settles on his lips, glossy and wholly enticing - and entirely too close.

His face was inches from yours, shoulders stuck rigidly together as you subtly wrestle for space. The shirt was obviously made for kids, and much smaller than you had originally anticipated. Two kids would be able to almost comfortably stand side by side. You and Jimin had barely enough excess shirt, but the collar was far too small. His hand grazes mercilessly across your thigh, the hardness of his rings pressing into the material of your jeans.

You hear a click of a camera, and your attention snaps up to see Hoseok taking a photo of you both on his phone. With both you and Jimin glaring at him, he snaps another and giggles.

"One for Jungkook." He grins, before flipping his phone to you.

Instinctively you step forward to look, but the lack of space drags Jimin along with you. He crashes into your back, a steadying hand reaching out for your hip, a strangled grunt by your ear. You choke on your breath, and weakly tug at the collar as if it was the cause of your shock.

His hand is warm, the heat pulsating from his palm across your hip. If you weren't sweating before, you definitely were now. You shuffle back a little, easing the tension in the shirt that tugged tightly against you. Jimin brings up a hand and anxiously pushes his hair back from his face, his jaw set so sharply you could cut your finger on it.

"Well, there's bound to be a few teething problems but I'm sure you'll both work it out." Namjoon smiles, eyes bright and full of mischief. "Come on boys, let's give them some space."

You give Namjoon the fiercest glare you could muster before he walks away, but all he does is chuckle at you. Hoseok waves brightly whilst Jin merely winks - until soon all that remained was you and Jimin, hot, flustered and already tired of it all.

"Okay, now that they're gone-" Jimin mutters, twisting in the shirt so that his back was against you. You shuffle back as not to touch him, your mind a hazy hot mess.

Your hand dances threateningly close to his ass so you snatch it up to your chest, staring at the ceiling and holding back an agonised groan.

He brings his hands up and after a few seconds you hear a loud rip.

You snap your head to him to see that he'd ripped the collar almost to the end of the shoulder, giving you more space. You let out a breath and you both adapted to the space, but his shoulder was still brushing you. At least his face was at a less dangerous distance from yours now.

"Do... you wanna sit?" He asks quietly, A faint pinky blush crossing his cheeks. You forced your eyes away, determined not to be distracted.

"Jimin, Namjoon's gonna flip about the shirt."

"No he won't-"

"Yes, he will-"

"Ah, can we just sit?."

You huff, weighing his words before silently nodding, moving forward slowly to give him time to get his brain in gear. He stepped behind you and you shuffled around so that you wouldn't be sat under him.

"Okay sit." You order, and to your surprise he followed your words. You both crash back into the couch, his arms pressing back against you, his legs spread and pressed against yours.

You sit, the silence stretching. You finally get the smell of his cologne, the silk of his shirt sleeve brushing against your arm. It was filling your senses, and though it had only been seconds, this was stretching for an eternity.

And there were all those emotions you felt towards him, rushing to the surface, bubbling beneath your skin.

"Okay this is dumb, why are we doing this?" You grumble, slamming your head back against the cushions, desperate to be away from his heady scent.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes, so you pointedly avoid meeting his gaze.

"Because we don't want to lose our friends." His voice is low, the cogs turning in his head.

"Yes I know that, but why do we have to 'sort our problems' from inside the same damn t-shirt?" You snap.

"I... don't know. But I'm not gonna lose friends. Them or you - so get used to being stuck in this shirt with me."He purses his lips in thought, but you’re struck by his words.

"Well it's you who's stuck in here with me." You snark, unable to stop yourself before you say it.

He huffs out a laugh through his nose, and you can’t help but smile. You finally meet his eyes, and like a kid caught doing something he shouldn’t, he snaps his eyes away.

“So we have to like… work on our problems?”

“Apparently.” He murmurs, throwing himself back into the seat.

The temperature feels ten times hotter than when you weren’t sharing clothing. Your hair sticks to your skin and you shift uncomfortably. Everywhere you touched him felt like it was on fire, every sensor in your body and edge and firing. You force yourself to breathe, in and out. Park Jimin was not going to get the better of you.

But he seemed affected too.

His swallows are thick, adam’s apple bobbing with each gulp. You could see his ringed finger tapping in his leg whilst his other hand was pushing back his hair a little more aggressively than usual.

“So uh…” He starts, but tapers off when you look at him.

“Yeah?”

The seconds tick on, the gap between you non-existent. You avert your eyes and try to focus on the crowd that swirls around you.

You couldn’t help but notice the fact that things were going well. No issues were being resolved per se, but you hadn’t fought properly for a few minutes. And for you both, that was progress. Even if every word that comes to your mind flights away, leaving the silence to stretch.

“Maybe-”

“How about-”

You both blurt words at the same time, letting out an embarrassed laugh as you squarely avoid looking at each other. The music seems louder, making it harder to think about anything that wasn’t directly in your senses. Essentially you were stuck in a Jimin lockdown.

“You go.”

“Oh, I was just going to say I’m gonna need a drink or two for this.” you confess, heat burning across your face.

“That’s… Not a bad idea actually. Let’s go to the kitchen.” Jimin rushes, a little too enthusiastically. It seems like he’s a little on edge too.

Without thinking he tries to stand up, causing you to get ruffled inside the shirt as he staggers to his feet. You’re ripped through the collar of the shirt, your face getting knocked into his hip. Your eyes widen and your breath catches in your throat as he’s slingshotted back into the chair beside you. Your head reemerges through the hole, leaving your hair vigorously disheveled.

“I-, I’m sorry!” He grits, a reddish blush bursting across his cheeks.

You bring up your hand inside the shirt to touch it to your face whilst the other tries to right whatever mess your hair had become.

“It’s fine, just, we gotta move as one.” You mumble, flicking your gaze at him.

“Agh, this isn’t gonna be easy.” He sighs, shuffling to the edge of the chair.

You take a deep breath and follow his lead. You put a tentative hand on the couch to shuffle yourself to the edge, but jimin had the same idea. He puts his hands on top of yours, but instantly snatches it back. He mumbles to himself before turning and giving you a nod. With a steadying breath you both move, almost effortlessly getting off the couch together. It takes you by surprise at how straightforward that was, until the clatter of a noise reaches your ears over the din of the music.

Following the rattle of the noise you look down, only to watch your phone skittering across the floor.

“Oh, shit.” You murmur, watching it stop out of reach. “Jimin, my phone!”

He follows your gaze to where it lays on the floor, narrowly avoiding being stepped on by dancers. Your heart flutters as people step around it, totally unaware.

“Go, go!” He mutters, placing the palm of his hand at the bottom of your back, steering you towards it.

You flush as you’re pushed through, stopping just above it. You’re both jostled by the people around you as you stand guard above your phone. People were dancing dangerously close to it,and all it would take is one drunken fool to stamp on it or you for this to end in disaster.

“Okay let’s drop, carefully this time!” you order, but Jimin scoffs at you.

“I’m trying to be careful!”

“Just don't thrash me about again, that would be nice-”

“I’m not doing it on purpose! I can if you want me to-”

“Oh my god, stop, just bend over and help me!”

“That sounds dirt-”

He starts, but before you let him manifest that in your mind you start to crouch, the force pulling him down to bump his chest into your back. The heat of him crashing into you is instant, an insatiable warmth that spreads in contact. He puts a stabilising hand on your hips as his breath rolls across the back of your neck. A shiver trickles down your body despite trying to hold it back.

“What did you do that for?” He grunts, his mouth closer to your ear as he tries to rebalance himself.

“Y- you’re taking too long trying to argue!”

He presses himself off your back and shuffles down beside you. You finally get crouched on the floor, tentative hands placed on the sticky surface to stop you from toppling over. Jimin crouches next to you, his body facing yours with his leg behind you, tight against your back. It was hard to stay focused with him pressed against you like that, but you know he was just trying to stay stable. So why were you blushing so hard?

Carefully you reach out, your fingers just brushing the edge of the phone. You’re just able to get your fingers over the edge when you’re slammed from the side. Your phone is knocked out of your reach once more as you’re thrown onto Jimin, both of you landing in a tangled heap.

You let out a yelp as you’re falling, the impact to the side of you bristling with shock. His back hits the floor and you land awkwardly, right on top of him.

“Watch what you’re doing, you moron!” Jimin snaps after your head slaps onto his shoulder.

Your heart slams erratically against your chest, his words stinging. You’d come to blows many more times than you can imagine, but he’d never spoken to you in that way, not ever.

“God, I’m sorry.” you murmur, pressing yourself up off his chest, your face practically aflame.

“What? Oh, no no, not you! Whichever idiot smacked into you. Are you alright?“ He asks, his fingers gently gripping your chin and turning you gently in his hands.

Your eyes are wide as he stares at you, your fingers twitching on the silk covering his chest. Once he’s satisfied that you’re okay, he softly releases you. You bring your gaze back to his, beads of sweat rolling down your face.

Jimin looks down to his hand and back up to you after realising what he had just done, before he clenches his fist closed and puts it down to his side. His forehead is creased, his face burning bright.

“We should… ah, should get your phone.” His voice is low, barely audible above the music. But you hear him all the same, stealing your hand back from his chest.

You swallow thickly, stabilizing yourself as you crouched back on your own two feet. Your phone isn’t too far out of reach, but just beyond the touch of your fingertips. You strain, tugging Jimin along behind you. His throat is pulled against your shoulder, but it was no good, you still needed the stretch.

“Hold on.” You mumble, slipping your head out from underneath the collar.

You keep your arm inside the shirt sleeve for plausible deniability - you’d never be able to lie to Namjoon if he asks if you stayed in. But you pull your head out from the bottom of the shirt and reach out, gripping your phone and snatching it up. You shove it in your deepest pocket of your jeans and pat it, relieved.

You crawl back to Jimin and try to climb back into the shirt. He throws the bottom over your head and you push it through - only to slam your head into his arm.

“Ah, sorry!” You yelp, trying to push yourself past him.

He tries to guide your head back up through the collar but manages to get his rings caught in your hair. You yelp at the tug, your hands flying up to untangle him.

“Sorry, sorry!” He shouts, bringing his other hands up to slide his rings off altogether.

Once they’re off his fingers it’s easier to free your hair. With the rings tucked safely in his pocket and with gentle easing, Jimin moves your head up to the collar of the shirt. You rapidly brush your hair out of your face and look at him out of the corner of your eye.

He’s flustered, roughly pushing the hair that sticks to his sweaty forehead back. His lips are parted and his eyes are fixed away from you.

Briefly, the thought of just running away from him crossed your mind. There’d be no more issues if you never saw his face again. No more embarrassment! Of course it was a silly idea, but it would be better than getting the opportunity to make yourself look like an idiot again.

You huff out a breath, blotting your damp forehead with the back of your hand. Your brush with the floor had left your clothes feeling sticky, and your brush against Jimin had set everything else on fire. You needed some fresh ai-

“It’s too hot for this, I need some air.” Jimin shifts in his spot, gesturing to the backdoor that was through the kitchen and blocked by a thick group of party goers. You follow the direction he points and nod enthusiastically.

“I wanna grab some water too.” You murmur. Ignoring his presence.

The people that stood between the cloying heat that you and Jimin were trapped in and the cooler climate outside were dense. You’d have to fight through, but the reward of fresher air to clear your head of Jimin was too tantalising.

With a look at Jimin, he motions with his hand for you to proceed. You roll your eyes at the gesture but you take a cautious step forward, slow and deliberate.

You started pushing your way through, bodies warm and fluid as you tried to champion the way. Jimin got ganged much closer to you, practically pressing into your back as you moved. You focus on finding a path ahead, ignoring the beads of sweat that form in your hairline.

Something had changed between you. This is the closest you had been together, the most you had touched, the longest you had been alone. And you wanted to hate it. You certainly hated how messy he must think you are. But you didn’t. A trickle of something different slides down your body, all your attention focused on his hand on you.

The music changes to something even louder and riles the crowd up. With a swell of movements in the dancers you’re sent flying, knocked by some erratic dancer’s elbow. With the force of the shirt Jimin is dragged with you, crashing into your back and pinballing you against another person.

Subconsciously you turn back to him - but as soon as you’re pressed together, you realise how big a mistake that was.

Stomach to stomach, his face is barely an inch or two from yours. His fingers wrap around your wrist, chest rising and falling as you stare at him.

The sweat that had rolled down his face had reached his throat, dropping down the column and hovering at his apple. The minutest of smirks pulls at his lips, and you realise you’ve been caught.

He swallows, purposely. The bead rolls the rest of the way down his throat, dropping below his necklace before disappearing down the neckline of his shirt. The silk was clinging to his skin in the heat, and it took every ounce of dignity you had not to look down. You could see in your periphery, and that was more than enough. The man was hot, in every sense.

Your eyes flick back up, a different kind of heat burning up your face. You anxiously lick your lips, eyes finally meeting his. He has an eyebrow propped, a smugness radiating that let your blood boil. But his gaze drops to your mouth, watching your tongue gloss across your lip before looking back up. You can feel his breath hit your chest as his cheeks flushed more than they ever had. Now you were the one to have an audience.

Maybe this was it - the answer. You just needed a moment for everything to click, you could reach an understanding! It had nothing to do with how his stare left you feeling like you could burst in every way possible. Or that his pupils seemed to be blown wide, big enough for you to swim in. His fingers were hot against your wrist, and it felt almost as if his pinky was tracing the tiniest circles into your skin-

“I need the bathroom.”

The words are blurted loudly in your face, and for a moment you forget what reality is.

“I- what?”

“Bathroom. Gotta go. Bathroom stuff.” Jimin splutters.

Before you can respond - not that you knew how to - he turns from you. His hand still holds your wrist as he pulls you through the crowd, uncaring as to who he pushes aside. All you can do is stare at the back of his hair and be lead.

“Jimin what the hell?!” You yell, ignoring the glares of the nosy partiers.

Your voice is lost, muffled by loud music and Jimin's deaf focus. You finally break free from the throng of people but your journey doesn't end. You're being whipped past busy rooms until you hit the staircase. The odd person watches you in fascination, some even snickering at what was written so plainly in glitter on the shirt. you felt your face burn, and make a silent note to fight Namjoon at the soonest opportunity.

He begins scurrying up the staircase, and with your wrist still firmly in his iron grip, you're soon flying up behind him. He casts a shifty look behind him to check you were still attached, his face flushed but his eyes focused. You have to remember to regulate your breathing.

"God, careful!" You snap, almost stumbling on the top step.

He doesn't acknowledge that he hears you, but then he slows for a second before darting down the winding corridor. He rushes into one of the rooms, a sprawling guest bedroom, before finally letting your wrist drop from his grip. It was almost bigger than your entire place, with an ensuite and even a door leading out to a balcony.

You close the door behind you before Jimin drags you towards the ensuite. Once he's at the open door he pulls his arms through the sleeve and slips out from the shirt. You know you're in the privacy of a bedroom but you suddenly get nervous, eyes turning to the bedroom door.

"We're gonna get in trouble." You murmur. Namjoon is a mind reader, you’d stake your life on it - he'll know you're separated and find you.

"You gotta relax. We're not gonna be spotted through floors and walls. Unless you wanna come in here with me?" He asks, that trademark smirk pulling at his lips. Your stomach flutters, but it is a relief to have a flash of the jimin who pushes your buttons back.

"I -wha- no! Just hurry up, god." You splutter, turning your back to him.

"I won't be long."

With that he saunters back, his cheeks blown out as he sighs, and finally closes the door for some sweet separation. You step back and move to the balcony - the door was unlocked so you push it open and finally breathe.

The air is still warm, but instant relief from being cooped up inside with Jimin washes over you. You close your eyes and soak up the moment of peace, the shirt hanging off your solitary frame.

Your brain was barely processing the situation you were both in. It was enough being stuck in the same item of clothing as someone, but with Jimin? It was hard.

But then again, it was also easy. It was too easy to get wrapped up in him, to be so close, to let yourself be taken with him. It was a place you had hoped to be before, and somewhere you couldn’t go.

You and Jimin were tumultuous. You weren’t sure why it had to be that way. It’s not like either of you were toxic or nasty people - so why did you have to make a stand on everything? Why does every time you stand off with him make the hairs on your neck stand up, make your heart beat so fast in your chest you swear he could hear it?

Maybe it was because you did, after all this time, like him.

You're snapped out of your thoughts by an erratic knocking at the door. You dart your eyes to it as if you could see through the solid wood, your heart in your throat.

"Y/N? Jimin? You there?" Namjoon calls through the door, and you swear under your breath.

"One second!" You cry, scrambling back from the door and scurry to the ensuite.

"Jimin! Open up!" You whisper at him, your voice a hurried rasp.

"What?"

"I'm coming in!" You wait a few seconds just in case, and then finally throw the door open.

"Y?N!" Jimin yells, scrambling back against the basin.

He was standing with his silk shirt in his hands, His lips parted in shock as he stares at you. His chest was heaving, the faintest glimmer of abs visible behind the thin fabric. Your face was burning almost as much as his, your jaw dropping. His hair was tousled, strands covering his wide eyes as he stared at you.

"Wh... Why are you topless?" Your breath is barely above a whisper as you fight to keep your eyes on his face.

"It's so hot!”

“I’m hot! Do you see me taking my clothes off?” You rush, using every ounce of restraint in your body to not lick your lips.

The thought of you and Jimin taking your clothes off together flashed through your mind and you internally screamed at yourself. This was not the time to unpack that, though you’d be lying if you said the thought hadn’t crossed your mind before.

“Wah- uh, you... I was trying to cool dow- why are you barging in here?!" He rushes, taking a hasty step towards you. To have to sort through your frazzled thoughts before you remember why you were there in the first place.

"Namjoon! He's at the door!" As if to accentuate your point, Namjoon raps on the door again, calling out to you both.

"Agh!" Jimin cries, rushing forward and grabbing the hem of the shirt you still wore.

He begins to get into it as he pushes you towards the door. You could feel the horror fill your veins as the heat of his body slips in beside you, his hand at the small of your back as he guides you. Your arm brushes against his bare hip, the skin hot and smooth. You snatch your arm up and hold it against your chest as if burned and ignore the rapid change in your breathing.

"Why haven't you put your shirt on?!" You whisper, but he just huffs.

"To save time, Now show me your pretty smile and let's get rid of him so I can get dressed." Jimin's hand is on the door, and all you can do is stare at him, eyes wild.

"My wha-"

The door flies open, but you're still staring at Jimin. Pretty...?

"Well hello." Namjoon is leant against the doorframe, arms crossed as he gives you both a crooked grin. His eyes flicker to the room behind you, his eyes landing on the bed just beyond you both.

"Just needed the bathroom." Jimin rushes, hand once again settling in his hair.

"I didn't ask." His voice is light, but his eyes are fierce as he scans you both thoroughly.

"You were thinking about it, though." Jimin mutters. He tries to cross his arms at Namjoon, but with one arm under the shirt and one over he soon drops it. Your gaze was still stuck on him though. Pretty?

"How's the shirt working out, you both talking?" Namjoon asks, and you finally snap your attention to him. He's already watching you and raises an eyebrow. You scramble to stamp down your emotions, despite every nerve in your body sizzling.

"Oh yeah, we’re the best of friends now, right JimJam?" Your voice is bubblegum sweet, giving Jimin the goofiest smile you could muster.

"Totally! We've been braiding our hair and sharing juicy stories. We're basically besties."

Jimin beams at Namjoon, before stepping close and wrapping an arm around your waist to hug you. It was all part of the charade, of course. But as you're pulled back against his chest, you swear your heart could explode. His hand sits lightly on your hip, his every breath rolling down your neck. It didn’t matter that the move was practically hidden under the shirt.

"Yeah..." you laugh, but it's more of a choke as you pat his hand over the shirt and avoid meeting Namjoon's probing gaze.

Jimin clears his throat awkwardly behind you, his finger twitching on your hip. The heat between you swealters, every inch of your skin electric against his body.

Namjoon's eyes flick between you. You could see his thoughts brewing but they never pass his lips. Instead you and Jimin wait, his hands singeing your skin where they rested, his bare chest like fire against you.

"Well, I can see you're obviously working on something. But until you're actually convincing, you can stay in that shirt." He shrugs, grin widening across his face. With a final flick of his eyes, he pushes off the door frame and heads back towards the stairs.

"This is ridiculous Namjoon!" You yell at his back, crossing your arms across your stomach.

"Maybe - but you're both still wearing it." He smirks back over his shoulder.

You yell incoherent words at his back before huffing out a breath. Your fingers twitch in anger, putting a stubborn hand on your hip, the skin hot under your touch.

Faintly you realise the contact isn’t registering on your hip, and it isn’t until Jimin loosens his grip on you that you realise your hand had been resting on his. His hands fall from your body as he shuffles away, swallowing a throaty gulp.

You couldn’t look at him. It was all fun and games to begin with- oh, who were you kidding? This had been sucky, but something had shifted. You needed air, a chance to breathe, to not be tethered to the man that seems to haunt you.

“Need air.” Your voice a rasp as you step back into the room.

Jimin barely shuts the bedroom door before you’re marching to the balcony, not caring about whether you drag him along or not. Once you’re outside you heave in a breath, letting the air fill your lungs.

“That was too close.” You murmur, fiddling with the hem of the shirt.

“How was I supposed to know Namjoon would be keeping tabs?”

“I’m not blaming you Jimin! Why are you making this into an argument too?” You snap, your eyes fixed on the treeline on the edge of the property.

You feel him wriggling aggressively next to you, only to look back and see him climbing out of the shirt. You watch in horror as he slips out from under the sickly yellow material, keeping his bare back to you.

“What are you doing?” You yelp, scanning over the edge of the balcony for any sight of your friends. They couldn’t see you apart, they would never trust either of you again.

“What are we doing?”

“We’re meant to be working this out from inside the same ugly shirt-”

“No not right now. I mean, kind of. I just… Why did we let it get this far?”

You let his words hang in the air, your thoughts scattered. The thump of the music below drifts up to you, the mass of partygoers that stood out in the gardens laughing and chatting loudly. It seemed a world away from the tension that fills the air between you and Jimin.

He turns back to you with a look on his face so intense you can’t place it. But you could tell he was tightly wound - his shoulders were squared and his jaw was tight. He avoids making eye contact with you for as long as he can. But when he finally does, it was too easy to get lost in what you see there.

“We just argue, I guess.” you shrug, averting your eyes from his chest and stomach. This wasn’t the time to be fawning over him. It was hard - he was beautiful, there was no escape from that. It’s one of a million reasons you had liked him in the first place.

“You can't tell me you’re happy with that explanation.” He huffs, crossing his arms.

“Of course I’m not but what do you want me to say? You don’t like me, you’ve made that plain enough. Not everyone gets along.”

You bite your lip, admitting the words you’d been too scared to think out loud. But when you hear a faint gasp, your eyes shoot up to his face. His lips are parted, a look of abject shock written on his delicate features.

I d- I do like you.” His voice is so quiet you can barely hear him. But you do, and the words strike deep.

You can’t open yourself up to this right now. Namjoon will find a way to know that you’re both separated, and the rest of the guys will drift away. You want to be civil with Jimin, not have your entire soul bared open to him. You couldn’t survive that.

“Can you please put your shirt back on?” You mumble, your eyes laser-focused imploringly on his face, but he doesn't hear you, barrelling on.

“It’s not like I enjoy arguing with you!”

“Then why are you making it so difficult?” Your voice cracks, the hurt of your never ending battles threatening to surface.

“Do you know how hard it is to get your attention-“ he starts, his fast flow of words immediately cut off as he gawks at you, delicate fingers slamming over his lips.

“What?” You blurt, processing his words.

“No no, nothing! Forget it.” he shakes his hands at you, eyes wide and face blushing a deep pink.

“Jimin! What do you mean, get my attention?”

“I… yeah. We’re always with the guys, I guess I didn’t know how else to get you to focus on me.”

“Why?” Your voice is faint, a million thoughts crashing in your head.

“No, forget it!”

“Jimin!”

“Ah, I like you, okay?”

The air around you thickens, the distance between you a thousand miles yet still too close. Your heart thumps rapidly in your chest, your eyes wide as saucers and your skin prickled with goosebumps.

“You- huh?”

“I… like you. A lot. It happened pretty quickly.” He sighs, running a shaky hand through his hair.

"Why have you never told me?"

"Because it's humiliating as hell?" He laughs bitterly, his eyes darting to anywhere but you.

"Jimin..."

"No seriously. If I had told you, you'd reject me because why wouldn't you? All we do is argue."

"You think I'd reject you?" You ask, voice quiet as you step closer to him. His gaze finally snaps back to you at your movement.

"I mean, I... yeah?"

He runs a hand roughly over his face, turning his back to you. He looks so flawless in the moonlight. But he always looked flawless to you. Watching him fret like this was something so alien to you, but so human, so Jimin. You couldn’t let him suffer these feelings alone.

"Well, I wouldn't have." You mumble.

“You- what?”

Your brain scrambles, your heart hammering in your throat. He stares at you, wide eyes and chest heaving as if he was winded. Swallowing thickly you press on, despite the fear that churns in your gut.

“I wouldn’t reject you, Jimin. I… uh. I like you too.” You fiddle awkwardly with the hem of the stupid shirt.

The whole scenario had you feeling like a girl going through a childhood crush again. Though last time you had a crush on a boy who was fighting with you, you punched him in the nose. It was doubtful that would work this time around-

“Jimin?” You ask, watching as he shrinks back on himself.

You watch as he breathes, his chest rising and falling, the rapidly cooling night air raising goosebumps across his skin. It was hard to keep your brain on track.

After a moment he meets your gaze with a softness so potent it was enough to choke you.

In two steps he was on you, his lips crashing against yours. Your entire body threatens to shut down, the shock rippling through you. Before you even had a second to comprehend how good his lips felt against yours he pulls back, fear in his eyes as he worries.

You know then what you want. Who you want. You wondered why you wasted so long arguing to get it.

With your blood thrashing violently in your veins you reach your hands out to his face, caressing the smooth skin of his cheek before you surge forwards. The feel of the gloss on his lips smudges as you let yourself be consumed, the slightest hint of cherry seeping in.

Kissing Park Jimin. You. You’re kissing him. Your eyes slam shut as you sink into him, electricity crackling on your skin.

With no doubt in his mind at all Jimin slides his hands to your hips, fingers curling into the shirt as he moves you back, pushing you into the wall. You moan into his kiss, and he smirks against your lips. To trip him up you press the kiss deeper, letting the tip of your tongue dance at his pretty lips, wanting to taste him.

He does you one better, turning the tides and pressing the kiss back to you, tongue flicking to you.

Just like normal, you weren’t one to back down from Jimin.

Letting a hand move into his silken hair, you brush it back the way you’d seen him do a thousand times. But instead of letting your hands fall out of the soft locks, you let the strands wind around your fingers and give it a tug.

Jimin lets out a low groan, breaking the kiss to pant against your lips. Pride flows through you, but so did a sense of admiration - it was something you wanted to hear from that pretty mouth over and over.

“That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, Y/N.” He whispers, tugging sharply on the shirt so that your body was flat against his.

You try to not let the gasp from you come out too loud, the lines of his body startlingly apparent as you’re pressed together.

“You think that scares me?”

At your words he smiles. It spreads slowly, but soon his whole face is alight, brightness shining out of him. With his fingers at the hem of the massive shirt, he gives you a filthy giggle before kneeling and slipping himself inside of the material.

“What are you doing?” You yelp, feeling the familiar sensation of being stuck in the stupid shirt with him again. But it was different too, it wasn’t suffocating like before.

His head popped back up through the ripped collar, grin still annoyingly plastered across his face.

“Shouldn’t you be trying to get me out of this shirt, Park Jimin?” You whisper, breathless as he presses you back against the wall.

“I can’t deny that you have too many clothes on.” He smirks, delicate fingers sliding up your shirt to rest on your hot skin. “But there’s something… ah, satisfying about having you in this shirt.”

“Seriously?”

“What’s the matter Y/N, don’t think you can handle it?” His fingers circle agonisingly slow on your hips, a mischievous glint catching in his eye. He knows you so well.

“You’re gonna be the one who can’t handle it.”

“Prove it.”

You almost growl at him as he presses your buttons, but the burning in you meets the heat in your stomach. You need him more than ever.

You pull him back against you by the hair, crushing your lips together once more. He moans into you, nails pressing into your hips as your lips collide. You roll your hips against him, the fire in your veins white hot as he stutters against you. He breaks your kiss to gasp needily, eyes shut tight as your stomach brushes against the bulge in his tight jeans.

His eyes finally open, unfocused and swimming. But after a second he fixes his gaze on you, determined. A flicker of anticipation fills you, awaiting retribution.

His fingers move from your skin to the hem of your shirt, tugging it up until you have to help him. The shirt you were sharing was making it difficult, and you start to regret ever letting him get his way. But as soon as you are free he presses back into you, his hot skin flush against yours, his fingers idly tracing the straps of your bra.

Just with the gentle brush of his fingertips he nudges the straps down your arms, goosebumps rising along his trail. He presses his lips to your cheek, pecking slow, soft kisses across your cheekbone as he moves towards your ear. You sigh as his mouth moves lower, plump lips pressing dainty kisses down your neck. With you swept up, his hands move behind you and unclip your bra.

A gasp passes your lips while his own are still planted at your neck, sucking on a soft spot there. Your bra slides off your body, landing with a quiet thud on the floor of the balcony.

His fingers find their way back to your hips, slowly caressing their way up. An excited shiver catches you, and you feel him laugh against your skin. His warm hands find your breasts, thumbs rubbing over the soft skin before finding your nipples.

You suck in a breath as he kisses back up your neck. He pauses to capture your lips again, lulling you into him as his thumbs brush out across your nipples.

With your staccato breathing he smirks once more into your skin. Not one to ever be outmanoeuvred by Jimin, you decide it’s time to flip the switch.

You purposefully run your fingers down his stomach, featherlight and teasing. He hitches his breath, mouth detaching from your neck as he waits, anticipating your every move. His hot breath rolls down your neck, rippling off your chest. You hide a smirk in his hair and focus on your goal.

Letting your fingers rest on his belt buckle - no doubt something obnoxiously expensive - you begin to undo him as slow as you possibly could. You slide it off, inching it so little that you could feel him get restless against you.

“You’re a nightmare.” He whispers, looking up at you through his eyelashes.

“I’m just savouring the moment.” You offer softly, the soft clinks of the buckle resting against his thigh.

“You’ll pay if you tease me like this.” His voice is high, airy. The voice of a man in complete control - though you knew that was far from the truth.

“Mm, sure Jimin.” You smirk, bringing a hand up between you to his face.

You angle him back up to kiss you, which he does with ferocity. You smile into him, the power to provoke him rich in your veins.

Your hand sinks back to his belt, and with him distracted you pull it off him fast, dumping it somewhere on the floor and popping the button of his jeans. He gasps into your kiss, fingers automatically flexing across your breasts. You hold your reaction to yourself, intent on giving nothing away until you are ready.

You tug down his zipper, pressing it back onto him so he feels the teeth unclipping against his boxers. You knew they were gonna be some annoyingly expensive brand too, but the thought of getting him to ruin them for you was intoxicating. He leans his forehead against yours, the desperation rising his face palpable.

With a sharp tug you drop his jeans to his mid-thigh before moving your fingers back to him, running teasingly around his waistband. You didn’t have to look under the shirt to know his boxers were tented, his erection straining against the fabric. You dip a finger just below his waistband, tracing along the lines of his hips. He lets out a choked breath, hips subconsciously bucking into you.

“Y/N…”

“What?” You ask sweetly, moving your fingers to brush along his pubic bone. Your knuckles barely graze the base of his shaft, but he lets out a murmur of swear words as his eyes flicker.

Not one to be overshadowed for long, Jimin lets his hands drop to your hips and immediately flies to your zipper. He presses his crotch into you, and you feel just how hard he is for you. With a flapping mouth you watch him, challenging eyebrow raised.

Everything was a game. One that you were intent on winning.

Plucking at your courage, you slide a hand back down, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock. His hips stutter in your hand, a gush of air forcing out of his lungs.

He felt good in your hand - really good. Firm skin, warm and pulsing in your hand. You experimentally ran a finger along his underside, tracing the vein all the way to his tip. He lets himself go then, head thrown back, eyes tightly clasped. A low groan rumbles from his throat, his fingers stilling on your zip.

“Feel good?” You whisper, pressing your lips to his.

“Ah, mm…” Is all he can manage as his head falls back.

He’s totally lost in your touch, and you’d barely started. A ripple of excitement darts through you, the sight of having Park Jimin needy and in your hands was too powerful to overlook.

A small giggle falls from your lips, the tiniest of noises. But it’s enough to spur him back to reality with his dark eyes finally refocusing on you.

He takes a breath to center himself before pulling down your jeans slowly. You feel the material slide over your hips and sit above your knees. Your panties quickly follow, thrust down faster than you can blink.

He lets a hand drag back up your thigh, running across to where you want his hand the most. Your touch on him falters as anticipation runs through your body. Ever so slowly he lets a finger stroke across your slit, barely grazing your skin. You wrap your free arm over his shoulder, taking a grip of his soft hair.

He smiles at you, and you let your eyes drag across his face. He drags his bottom lip between his teeth at your scrutiny. You can’t help but admire him: the way his lipgloss is smudged up across his cupid’s bow, the sweat that seemed to be dribbling so aesthetically down his sharp jaw, the blown out pupils of his deep eyes. Your breath catches in your throat as you soak him in - and that’s when he decides to strike.

He slips his fingers between your folds, feeling how wet you are for him, before sliding his fingers up to your clit. He applies only the slightest bit of pressure but it’s enough to have you gasping at his touch. He lets out a soft moan as he feels you, letting his fingers move in the tiniest circles.

You slowly rock your hips on his fingers, knotting your own in his hair. You instinctively flex your hand only to have his hips instinctively thrust his cock into your hand.

Deciding to move things on just a little, you move back just enough to see his cock in your hand. His eyes flutter open at your movements, only to blow wide when he sees a trail of spit drop from your lips onto his tip. You catch it with your thumb and rub it into his tip, rolling it down his length.

A low moan leaves him, his free hand coming up to wipe your bottom lip ever so delicately. You meet his eyes, a fire burning there just for you. He drags you into a kiss, his hand scrunching in your hair.

His hand start to move again, circling you and getting into a slow rhythm on your clit. You moan into his kiss, starting your movements too until both of you were breathless messes.

The kisses became scattered and sloppier as you both let your hands work. The delicate touch of his fingers was enough to blur your vision, and your firm grip that was growing in speed on his length rendered him weak in your hands.

His own hand moves deftly, nimble fingers moving between circling your needy clit to running through your wetness. His jaw slackens each time he feels how wet you are for him, pride drifting somewhere in his lust-blown eyes.

Jimin is slick under your grasp, rock hard as you twist up and down his length. Staggered gasps fall from his lips, getting more and more careless as you drag him higher.

His circling gets a little more pressure, and it’s enough to send your head lulling back, barely able to focus on the task literally in hand. You returned his zeal, putting an extra squeeze on his length. The choke that passes his lips sends pride through your already thrashing veins. His face twitches; his forehead creases, pretty lips part slightly further, eyebrows jolt. You know he’s close, and you have the power in your hands.

But he has you, too. The pressure pulsing from your core builds, your eyes slamming shut as you're barely able to form words. You can feel it rising, teetering on the edge of something good-

-until he jerks his fingers from you. You whimper at the loss of his fingers, orgasms skittering disappointingly away from you. Your eyes open as you snap your bereft gaze to him.

“Fuck, Y/N, too quick-“ he murmurs, grabbing hold of your wrist and gently pulling your hand of his throbbing cock.

“Jimin?”

He’s fully flushed, strands of silken hair stuck to his forehead. His chest rises and falls rapidly with his chest, eyes wild.

“I don’t wanna cum just yet.”

“What if I wanted you to-“

“Don’t argue with me on this,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to your lips. But then his voice drops low, lips pulled into a deadly smirk. “I have to make you cum first.”

You barely have a second to swallow down a gasp before you’re pulled from the wall to crash against his lips.

You hold him against you with the collar of the shirt you were still trapped in, matching his energy as he kisses you desperately. Your hands are held tight against his chest, his cock resting teasingly against your stomach.

His hands let go of you to grab your hips, steering your towards the edge of the balcony.

Once you're spun he pushes you gently, bending you over to lean against the railing. Forgetting that you’re stuck in the same damn shirt, he gets yanked down with you, body flush against your back. He lets out a tiny giggle into the back of your neck and it’s as if your heart could stop from the sound.

The cool of the metal railing presses into your chest, hands bracing it through the shirt. You look to the party happening below, guests hovering out in the garden to escape the heat of the sweaty party. You were pretty well out of sight - as long as nobody looked up.

“There’s quite a few people down there.” Jimin’s lips are by your ear, making the hairs on your neck stand on end.

“Don’t think you can make me loud enough? That’s a shame.” You smirk, unable to stop teasing him.

“You’re gonna regret those words baby.”

The pet name strikes deep within you. It’s perfect coming from Jimin, warmth radiating across your body. And you couldn’t blame that one on the heat.

Jimin presses his body onto your back, thick erection settling just above your cheeks. You feel the heat of his hand smooth from your thigh round to the front of you. He takes a few swipes across your clit to make you jerk beneath him before his fingers drift further back.

He swirls a finger around your waiting hole, agonizingly slow. You gasp at him, pushing your hips back into him. His shaft brushes against your cheeks and you can hear him suck in a desperate breath. Spurred on by his own need, he dips his finger gradually inside.

It’s slow, pushing past his knuckle until his finger sits inside you. You feel your walls pulse around him, desperate for more. His hand stills, taking his time to pepper kisses behind your ear. He nips playfully at your lobe, taking his sweet time with each movement.

You know he’s doing it to make you suffer. And god were you suffering, using every ounce of restraint to not whine for him.

Slowly he turns his finger so it sits better inside of you. The graze of his knuckle causes you to moan, and you feel him smirk into your skin.

“That’s what I was waiting for.”

He slowly begins to pump into you. It’s instantly better than his stationary finger, but still agonizingly slow. You needed him, harder and faster.

“Jimin…” you whine, pushing your rear back into him. He tuts into your ear, stilling his fingers.

“You need to let go, Y/N. I’ve got you.” He punctuates his point by kissing a trail along your shoulder.

You bite your lip, his words hitting a little deeper than just him getting you off. You always had to be in control of yourself around Jimin - you had to win, had to be alert. You couldn’t let your emotions get hold of you.

But it was all out in the open now. He knew how you felt - and he feels the same too. Maybe you can let go, just a little. It didn’t mean you had to start losing arguments any time soon, though.

You nod, turning your head to where he was pressing kisses into your skin. He beams at you, eyes scrunching as he surges up to catch your lips.

His movements cause his thumb to brush across your clit, and you moan wantonly into him. He pulls away to peer over the balcony, the loud noise escaping you both. You follow his gaze, but you’d drawn no attention. Not yet anyway-

He looks back at you and winks, the move cheeky and completely Jimin but he silences by pulling his finger almost completely out of you. Your jaw drops at the sensation, but just as quickly he pushes it back inside you, as far as he can go.

You bite the collar of the shirt to muffle your noise. His skin was still hot against yours, a sheen of sweat building on your forehead as you focused on him.

Mercifully he begins to fuck his finger in you, curling inside you. You inhale sharply through your nose, eyes shut tight as you let yourself go.

He carries on for a few more pups before he lets a second finger coat in your wetness. On the next thrust into you, he gently presses in a second finger, and you feel yourself clamp down at the stretch. Jimin keeps pressing kisses against your skin, but he gets breathless, his own erection pressing tauntingly at your back.

He sits his fingers for just a few seconds, letting you get used to him before he works them back out of you. In and out, in and out. He’s slow again, teasing you to the point of madness. You groan in frustration, but it was just what he was waiting for.

He thrusts his fingers deep into you, fucking you fast. Your hips roll to meet his pumps, the drag of him inside you delicious.

He brings up two fingers to your lips, and instinctively you take them into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digits. You make sure to meet his eye as you run your tip up the crack between his fingers, eliciting a groan from him and a buck of his hips against you.

He pulls them from your mouth and moves them between your legs. His fingers find your clit, and to match the rhythm that he was fingering into you, he begins to circle your needy bud.

It pushes you over the edge, almost literally. You cling onto the balcony as you’re thrust into it, Jimin sucking marks into your neck. You groan, the contact all over your body making you weak. The wet noises that surround you are pure sin, making you bite down on your lip. Jimin groans into your skin, teeth sinking softly into your shoulder as his fingers work fast.

“Fuck!” You yelp as his fingers brush your soft spot inside.

You slap a hand over your mouth as you stare down into the garden below, fear icy in your veins as you hope you’re not spotted.

Jimin doesn’t stop though. He hides his head in your neck, thrusting his fingers faster now that he knows your weak spot.

A few people below scan around them for the source of the swearing, but thankfully none of them think to look up. You bite your lip, eyes closing as you let yourself fall back into Jimin.

“That was a close one, huh?” He whispers, a lilt of a giggle in his voice.

“Shut up.” You murmur, voice cracking as he circles your clit so well you almost see stars.

“That’s no way to talk to the man who’s got two fingers deep in your-“

“Fuck, Jimin please!” You gasp, his next words dancing at the front of your mind.

The circles on your clit get defter, pressure hitting you just right as your hips start to roll uncontrollably. You grip tightly at the railing, unable to stop the flow of moans that echo from you. Being spotted from below is less important as you can feel your orgasm rising, your legs feeling weak underneath you.

Your skin prickles from the heat generating between your bodies, Jimin’s hot breath rolling across your neck as you flush harder.

“I’m gonna...” you whimper, your words lost to pleasure.

“Cum baby, all over my fingers.” His whisper sends shivers through you, a welcome change to the heat that dribbles down your temples.

He curls his fingers on every thrust to bring you closer to the precipice. You push back against him furiously, riding his fingers and your knuckles turn white on the railings. You feel it coil in your stomach, and you know you’re so close.

“Let go Y/N.” He whispers, breath ragged from exertion, but still peppering your marked skin with tiny kisses. You screw your eyes shut as you embody his words, letting yourself give in to the feeling.

“Jimin!”

Your orgasm crashes around you, a litany of swear words moan from your lips. Your walls clench down on Jimin’s fingers, twitching under his fingertips. You slam your hand over your mouth as your moans subside, wide eyes scanning the crowd below.

Heads turn in your direction, and before you can begin to scramble Jimin pulls you back from the balcony to stand flush against him. Your heart pounds in your chest, but the thrill that runs through your veins is undeniable.

He finally pulls his fingers out of you, the gush of wetness and noise make your face heat up. He wraps that arm across your chest and holds you against him, a wide grin wrinkling his eyes. You kiss him, soft and delicate, plump lips locking with yours.

Once you pull back he grins again, before moving the fingers that were in you towards his lips. your mouth parts as you watch him slip the digits inside, taking his time to suck off the taste of you. A light whimper leaves you as you watch him finally slide them out from between your lips with a pop, devilish glint in his eye.

Witha shiver you turn in his grip, pushing him firmly back against the wall.

He hisses lightly as his back hits it, and hisses louder as you're bungied in the shirt against him. He lets out a laugh and you do the same as you right yourself. But you can't keep yourself away from him as your lips are on his again. You flick your tongue at his, the taste of you on him.

“Wanna be inside you...” he whispers between kisses, his hot fingers idling their way up and down your sides. You groan at his words, nodding dreamily at him.

“God, yes please.” you sigh, feeling his lips trace kisses along your jaw.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” He smiles against your skin, grabbing you by the hips and spinning you both.

He pushes you back against the wall, the bite of the wood pressing into your skin.

“I’ve never heard you so passive.” He laughs, thumb and finger coming up to gently grip your chin. You grin at him, a flutter in your stomach.

“Don’t get used to it Park Jimin.”

He tips his head back to laugh, a pinky flush hot on his cheeks. All you can do is watch in awe, soak him in as he glows in the moonlight. But then he looks back down at you with the stars in his eyes and you realise that, yes - this is what you had wanted all along.

You bring his lips crashing back down to yours, letting your fingers knot in his dark hair and you touch him, drink him in. The silken strands flit through your fingers, and you idly think to yourself about him running his own hands through it. You can see why he does it now.

His thumb strokes across your chin, gently pulling your face from his. You open your eyes to look at him, the flush on his face even brighter.

“Ready?”

“Give it your best shot.” you smile, peppering his jaw with kisses.

You’re stopped in your tracks when he hoists one of your legs over his hip, a teasing eyebrow raised at you. Not to be bested, you hook your leg over his ass and pull him against you. You feel his erection sit against your stomach, hard and leaking onto your skin.

He takes hold of himself and strokes across your wet slit, coating himself. A withered sigh escapes your lips as you watch his frown deepen. His face contorts as he concentrates, teasing himself just as much as he was you. You lean forward to let a trail of spit fall from your lips and drip down onto him, coating his cock even more. You don’t know what possessed you to do it again, but the way he stuttered in a gasp made it well worth it.

Then with an agonisingly slow pace, he begins to press himself just inside you. Your mind clears, all that you can see and feel is Jimin. You had waited long enough.

A wimpery sigh strangles from you, Jimin pressing against your walls until he is fully seated in you. He was so warm, stretching you in all the right places, as close to you as he could physically be.

You give him an encouraging squeeze with your leg. He takes the hint and slowly starts to pull out of you, hair flopping in front of his eyes as he looks down to watch himself pull out of you. The drag of him is good, too good, as you let a warble of noises fall out of your mouth. He doesn't seem to mind though, his focus transfixed elsewhere.

"Jimin..." you whisper, fingers digging into his skin as he slowly begins to reach a rhythm.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, any mischievous glint in him gone. He was a man on a mission now, aiming to make you feel as good as possible. You could feel that in every stroke, the way he let you feel the length of him drag almost fully out before he pushes back inside you.

You start to roll your hips back at him, determined to not let him have all the fun. The tentative thrust of your hips had his head snap up to you, a fresh sheen of sweat glowing on his skin. You try to play it off coolly - another attempt to throw him off his game - but he squeezes your ass cheeks and holds himself deep in you, and your resolve melts away.

"Don't start something you can't finish." He smirks, and despite the need to fight him bubbling in you, you tip your head back and laugh.

"I guess that applies to both of us." You smile, pressing forward to kiss his lips softly. "Now fuck me Park Jimin, or we're really gonna have a fight on our hands."

He laughs against your lips, a gentle bubble that rises from his chest. But he takes on your words, pressing you hardest against the wall and hiking your leg higher.

He only goes slow for a few thrusts, getting a feel for you before he decides to ramp it up further. 'Typical Jimin' seems to float through your head, but you just grip him tighter, moving to meet his thrusts. You wanted to savour how full he made you feel for as long as possible.

His speed picks up, a hand moving to the underside of your raised legs and digs in deep. You let your own hands slide to his hair, keeping hold of the soft locks as he starts to hit harder inside you.

The sound of your skin making contact seems to echo loudly, and you barely spare a thought to people below working out what the noise was. You didn't care if they heard any more.

It was so hot inside the shirt together, and you could feel beads of sweat rolling down your chin and down your neck. This definitely wasn't helping the heat problem at all, but there was nothing on earth that would make you stop. The edges of Jimin's hair were getting damper, and with every tug of his hair he let his head fall back into your touch. His throat was bared to you, salty beads dribbling down his hot skin.

You murmur a series of curses as you watched him, the thrum of him being underneath you almost unbelievable.

But then he pulls out a power move.

With fast thrusts he rolls his hips, his cock dragging almost perfectly across your soft spot inside, and all your senses seem to leave you. He repeatedly manages to hit your spot and you are sure he is planning to end you, it was the only way to explain it. Death by good dick, you could see it now.

"Fuck fuck fuck." you repeat like a mantra, The wet slaps that echoes just adding to the sensation.

"Wanna turn you." He mutters breathlessly, and a part of you is glad he's also feeling so affected.

You can't seem to vocalise an answer so you nod emphatically, unhitching your leg from its vice-like grip around him. He pulls out of you and you almost complain, but then his hands are on your hips.

He spins you and presses you against the wall, lifting your leg up and lining himself back inside you again. You're practically dripping for him, so it doesn't take much for him to push back inside. You push your ass back into his thrusts making his movements stutter, and with a playful squeeze he whines behind you.

A small smirk picks up on your lips as you roll your hips back at him, starting him out of his stupor and back to where you need him.

He pounds his hips into you and you have to steady yourself against the wall. The shirt bunches awkwardly, caught in your grip as the rough wood of the wall digs into your skin. Jimin presses his front against your back, the hotness of his skin pricking against your own.

An arm slides around your waist, guiding you, holding you steady as he ferociously fucks into you. His other arm settles across your chest, his fingers clenching across your collarbone. His mouth is by your ear, ragged breaths blowing across the taut collar of the shirt and hitting the warmth of your body.

“Y/N.” Jimin groans, the lilt in his voice uneven as his hips crash into yours.

Your entire body was tingling, the pleasure from your core and the bite of the wall against your bare skin a fight for your senses. You could feel perspiration form on your forehead making your hair stick to you awkwardly but it didn't matter.

Jimin filled you in every way. The hot touch from his fingertips on your waist and across your chest, the heat of his stomach at the base of your back, the soft moans that he sings by your ears.

"That's it, baby." He groans, his fingers curling onto your skin.

The hand that he has sat on your waist slinks across your stomach to reach between your legs, letting his fingers circle your throbbing clit. The pressure makes your eyes slam shut, letting your head fall back onto Jimin's shoulder behind you.

A small single laugh falls from his lips, but your inevitable clench off your walls around him cuts it short. He thrusts a little harder, rocking you against the wall. You have to brace yourself as he fills you repeatedly, his athletic hips working overtime.

The hand that has been pressed to your chest finds its way to your throat, holding just below your jaw. You let out a moan as you cover his hand with yours, pressing his fingers into your throat.

"Shit..." He gasps, his hips stuttering.

"I bet you've been wanting to strangle me for ages." You rush, voice cracking as he circles your clit a little harder.

"Only when I've thought about fucking you."

The moan that leaves you is barely human. In fact, you were barely human any more. you were turning to putty on his cock and under his fingers. It wasn't going to be long until you reached your peak.

His fingers press into your throat under your guidance, the delicious bite making your vision slowly pool. You gasp, shivers tingling down your body. He lets up his grip a little to let your blood flow one more, your body practically vibrating from stimulation.

"Close, Jimin..." you whine, rocking your ass back into him.

"Let loose for me, Y/N." He whispers, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear.

He lets out one last surge of energy, fucking into you and rubbing your clit with a renewed vigour. you throw yourself back at him without care, chasing the high he was leading to you.

With a few more pumps and circles on your clit, you come undone.

Your body pulses on him, clenching down hard as your orgasm crashes through you. Your fingernails dig into his hand and the wall, a strangled cry of his name bursting from you. You cum hard on him, helping him finally reach his peak too - you could tell by the way his hips stuttered, the way he throbbed inside you.

"Cum, Jimin." you whimper, rocking your throbbing core on him.

He doesn't hold back, pumping a few stuttery thrusts into you as he cums. He fills you, gasping against your ear as your walls milk him dry. He thrusts until he can’t anymore, slowing his hips as the fullness inside of you trickles out past his length.

Both of your movements slowly lull to a stop. Jimin holds your body close against him, ragged breath hot against your ear. Your skin is prickled from the heat but you nestle into him anyway.

He finally pulls his softening length from inside you, a small dribble of your combined juices trickle down causing shivers to cover your body.

Turning your head you smile at him, slightly out of breath and dewy. The sight of him is godly: Messy hair sticking to his damp forehead, a pretty red blush spreading across his cheeks, plushy lips parted and sucking in breaths. He smirks back, a lazy grin growing. He moves closer and kisses you, gentle brushes of his lips against yours.

His hand that sat on your throat moved to stroke your cheek, and you let your hands thread in his hair as your kiss trails off into small pecks.

The air is different around you. It’s still hot, swirling close and untempered. But there’s something else too - a coolness, an understanding. A person behind the battle lines. Someone you could lean on, and someone who could keep up with you in an argument.

You pull back from him and look at him, his eyes slightly starry and his lips swollen from all they had been doing. With a soft smile you rub your thumb across his cupid’s bow, wiping off the last of his lipgloss.

“We should probably go downstairs, right? We don’t want Namjoon sticking that long neck of his out here.” Jimin whispers, his eyes finally focusing on you.

You nod, but not before pressing one last soft kiss to his lips. Now you’ve started, there was nothing in the world that could stop you from peppering him.

“Yeah.” You sigh, voice cracking slightly.

But neither of you move, both unwilling to be the first to break apart.

“I don’t want to leave here either.” He smirks, but it’s softer. Not the smirk he throws out to purposely disarm you, though it still has that effect on you.

“Where do we go from here though?”

“I guess we’ll have to work that out. Maybe we can discuss it if you let me take you out tomorrow?” He asks, eyes darting over your face for an answer.

Excitement crackles through you, electricity rippling through your head to the end of your fingertips. A smile rises on your face, and you can see the relief flow through Jimin.

“I’d love to.”

“Perfect. Now, let’s go and rub in the guy’s faces how well we’re getting on.” He laughs, his eyes crinkling.

He kisses you one last time, hard and fast, satiated for now. With that you finally separate, Pulling your clothes back on before facing each other again.

The shirt felt big now. Too big.

You couldn’t get close enough to him. You both head for the door when you feel Jimin’s fingers interlock with yours. Your entire body flushes as you open the door to the bedroom, the wall of heat from the house hitting you both.

You’re both undeterred though, determined to find your friends. You pull him down the stairs, not caring at who stares at you both in the sickly shirt. The house felt hotter, a visible mist descending over the sea of people.

You find them where they last left you, congregating around the couch. When you stop in front of them with Jimin in tow, they all take it upon themselves to scrutinise you. It was quiet for a long while, and you could feel your resolve buckling. You didn’t want them to see through you, see what happened. But you wanted them to know that things would be okay. For all of you.

You can only imagine how you looked. Out of breath and flustered, both of your hair messy and fully damp. They couldn’t see your hands knotted together inside the shirt, but they didn’t need to. The demeanor change between you both must have been glaringly obvious.

“How’s it going?” Namjoon asks, glaring between you.

“Good, we, uh. We’re getting on. Yeah.” you smile awkwardly, completely lost on why you were being so suspicious. You had more guts than that!

“That was smooth.” Jimin grins. He was worlds away from you, utterly content and calm.

“Oh my god, shut up.” You roll your eyes, but give his hands an extra squeeze under the shirt.

“Where have you guys been? I haven’t seen you all night.” Jungkook asks with wide innocent eyes, and for a moment you feel like if he knew what had just been happening he would have been tainted.

“Oh, just… exploring.” Jimin smirks, and you fight the urge to pinch him. Who knew this would go to his head?

Well, you knew. You shouldn’t be surprised at all.

“About time.” Jin sighs, eyes still glued to his phone. The others laugh and throw in their agreements.

“What?” you and Jimin both yell, eyes scanning your ‘friends’ suspiciously.

“We knew you both liked each other. It got a bit weird towards the end there but we knew you’d work it out - or Namjoon would.” Hoseok shrugs, but his face is bright as he grins at you both.

“The shirt was a bit of a, well… drastic option.” Namjoon's smile was crooked, but his eyes were bright as he grinned at you.

“Oh… I don’t know what to say.” You murmur, heat creeping across your face again.

Jimin, however, throws his head back and laughs, slapping a hand on his chest for good measure. You stare up at him in shock, but you can’t help the smile that grows on your face. He was infectious. And your friends understood. You feel a tightness unfurl in your stomach.

“Well, it worked out. It worked out really well. I mean just so so good-”

“Jimin, shut up!” You gasp, eyes wide as he winks at Namjoon.

Well, it’s good to know that the fire is still there between you. He was still impossibly infuriating and unendingly Jimin - but it was all for you. And it was only the start.

“Sorry baby.” He whispers as he lets go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist pulling you into his side. You flush at the move in front of the others, but easily melt into his side. You had been waiting for this, after all.

“I’m glad.” smiles Namjoon, warm eyes flicking over you both in the stained and rumpled ugly item of clothing. “Maybe we should burn the shirt, though. Just for hygienic reasons.”

#ksmutclub #smutcentralnet #btswriterscollective #bts x reader #bts x you #bts reader insert #bts smut #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin x you #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #jimin fanfiction #jimin fanfic #my writing

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choco-exe · 3 years

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the one where tsukishima and sakusa go too far with teasing their crush

anonymous asks: Hiiiiii I LOVE ur writing, and I was wondering if I could request the haikyuu boys (whoever u think fits best) who constantly tease (borderline insult) their crush, who one day just breaks down from their harsh words and say to them something along the lines of “why do you hate me?”, and how the the haikyuu boys react to that. If possible, end with something fluffy 🥺? (Like a confession) TYSMMM ❤️❤️

a/n: hello! aww im glad you do :D wait i just realized you said to have the boys react to their crush saying why do you hate me- fuuuuu- ahem please forgive me for not reading the ask correctly ;w; i hope you still enjoy, nevertheless! and why did i write these long-

tw: mentions of self hate, kind of toxic behavior from sakusa

𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚊 . . . 🖉

☾ he’s gonna be meaner the more he likes you ☾ like if he’s only realized he developed a crush on you, he’d treat you the same, but if it’s been weeks and you haven’t picked up the hint, he’s gonna be treating you like trash ☾ you find him staring down at you with a dead eye stare ☾ “what’s up, kei?” “you’re so short you look like a toddler” “..i’m the average height for a high schooler though-” ☾ his comments about your height never got to you, but then he started to target other regions of yourself ☾ like he’d give a rude remark about a low score you got on the quiz, or how you always look dead inside well he isn’t wrong ☾ whenever he said something negative about you, you just shot back a counter and brushed it off ☾ after a month of this going on, though, his words started to sting a bit ☾ “hey kei-” “can’t you stay quiet for one second? it’s like you blab out words every chance you get” ☾ imagine your surprise, since it was unusual of him to comment about you talking ☾ and one of your biggest insecurities is being annoying to others; you knew you tend to ramble about things, and a nagging voice in the back of your mind was always telling you about how people around you would get fed up with it ☾ did tsukki mean to say it like that? of course not; he was meaning to have a bit of humor in his statement ☾ he just said it in such an annoyed tone and way that it made it seem like he was bothered by you talking ☾ “..sorry, kei. my mind wandered for a bit..” ☾ you figured that he just had a bad day, and you were over it after a full night of sleep i could really use that ☾ the voice inside your head grew louder, however, and tsukishima’s comments didn’t help at all ☾ “stop bothering me about the homework; cant you see i’m busy? ugh, fine, take my notes if you’re that stupid-” ☾ “if you want attention, listen to this playlist. it should satisfy your longing for voices; i need to study for a test now” ☾ it got to the point where your mind was yelling at you about being a nuisance, and the final piece you needed to break just so happened to be during a practice match..

“You did great, blocking them all, Tsukki!” You exclaimed, flashing him a grin as you pass him his water bottle and towel. In all honesty, you were forcing your smile so hard, it began to hurt your jaw. “I could’ve blocked better if someone wasn’t screaming the whole time,” the middle blocker said, wiping sweat off his forehead. You had been passing out water bottles to the other players, but you stopped dead in your tracks when his words hit your ears. “Y/N-chan..?” Shimizu asked worriedly, eyeing your expression that Tsukishima couldn’t see. The said blonde took off his goggled to switch them out with his regular glasses. “It was just a practice match; getting hyped up wasn’t exactly the brightest idea your mind conjured up.” Putting his glasses on after wiping the lenses, he looked down at you to see your tear ducts brimming with your sadness. “..huh..?” You touched your face as a tear slid down your cheek. The other club members looked at you in concern. “Ah- don’t worry, everyone..” You wave your hands frantically as Daichi and Sugawara stare disapprovingly at Tsukishima. “It’s nothing to worry about. I’m just gonna.. step outside for a bit.” You forced another smile out onto your face, then quickly scampered out of the gym. The silence was so thick, you could slice it with a sword. Four-Eyes clearly didn’t expect you to be that emotional over his statement, as his face was filled with a small mixture of concern and confusion. He ran after you, shoving his things in his hands to Yamaguchi and leaving the rest of the team shocked into standing still. You had fled to a nearby bench, where you collapsed onto and shoved your face into your hands, desperately trying to stop your tears from shedding. How stupid, you thought. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Look what you did; you made the team worry about you, and they’re all going to resent you the moment they find out the reason behind your crying. “Y/N.” Jolted out of your thoughts, you looked up to find Tsukishima staring down at you with an unreadable expression. Almost immediately, your face became flooded with streams of tears. You quickly looked down at your lap, fidgeting with your hands. “I-I’m sorry for talking so much, Tsukki, I’ll try to keep my thoughts to myself-” “Shut up, Y/N.” He interrupted. You sighed and calmed your breathing. “This is what I’m talking about, Tsukishima.” You muttered, putting your face in your hands once again. “I’m just a pest to everyone; anyone I encounter will automatically hate me-” “Stop insulting yourself, dammit.” The middle blocker clenched his fists in anger. “You aren’t a nuisance, and you most definitely aren’t one to be hated on- I know I can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, but did it really affect you that much-” You slowly took your face out of your hands to see the blonde crouching, staring up at you. “'Did it really affect you that much?’ What do you think?! God, it really seems like you don’t consider my feelings at all, Tsukishima! I’ve been suspecting that you hate me, but why-?!” Said boy quickly clasped your hands in his, surprising you greatly. His usual expressionless face was morphed into one in a slight panic. “It’s because I like you, idiot!” Taking a moment to process his words, your whole face flushed a scarlet-red. “What?” The tips of Tsukishima’s ears were dusted with a soft coral-pink hue. “You heard me. I won’t repeat myself.” He averted his eyes from yours, squeezing your hands in nervousness. “I-” You were internally melting inside; who would’ve thought the salty beanpole would like someone like you? “But you would always push me to the side! Telling me you were busy and such!” Tsukishima stared at you like you were the biggest dumbass in the world. “I gave you my notes because I knew you didn’t have the energy to take them in class, and the playlist was a collection of songs I thought would suit you. Are you that dense?” “Who are you calling dense?!” You replied hastily. “And for your information, I haven’t given you my answer yet! Let go of my hands, and I’ll tell you, okay?” The middle blocker leaned in close to your face with his dead eye gaze. “It’s an agreement or disagreement, Y/N. What is your response?” You leaned back into the bench, but Tsukishima followed with your movements. “Um- I-” Your words crossed with each other, the lack of personal space making your head spin. “Yes?” Satisfied, the lamppost removed his hands from yours and flicked your forehead. “Simple as that, shortcake. If you want to freeze to death outside, that’s fine by me.” He began to walk back to the gym. “Wha- I’m not short!” You exclaimed, running after the four-eyes. “Also, I’m not the one who’s been sweating profusely for the past hour, so speak for yourself!” Tsukishima gently smiled as he heard you rapidly firing back at his comment. Looks like she’s back to her usual self. 𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚜𝚊 . . . 🖉

✤ obviously he’s gonna be commenting about your hygiene 24/7 ✤ the fact that he’s developed a crush on you doesn’t help, either; it means that you should be extra clean if he were to date you ✤ and of course he has to remind you almost every hour of the day; whether it be by text or in person ✤ now, you didn’t mind him checking up on you every couple of days, but every hour?? ✤ you’re convinced that sakusa has had some sort of trauma in the past, fighting with germs ever since he was a child okay not really.. unless? ✤ he doesn’t even do this to the other people he’s acquainted with; you’ve asked koromi about it, and he says sakusa just sprays him with holy water a disinfecting solution ✤ now you’re confused as to why you’re getting special treatment from him, when you two aren’t as close as him and his cousin ✤ so you personally went to his class to ask him about it ✤ “hey kiyoomi, why do you remind me to be clean every hour that you’re awake?” “because you shouldn’t have a single germ on you.” “but it’s literally the same message every time; at least make it seem more interesting” “cleaning yourself should be simple, not complicated” ✤ you got fed up with it as another week went by, which is understandable, since this clean freak was spamming your phone hour after hour without missing a single text ✤ the fact that sakusa was willing to put effort into reminding you about your hygiene was kind of sweet, but the same message every. single. damn. time. was annoying you like hell ✤ and when you tell him to stop and that you already know how to get rid of germs, he gave you a disgusted look ✤ this had to be one of the most nasty expressions he had ever made, because you stood paralyzed to the floor ✤ “i have been reminding you for your own good, y/n. why don’t you just appreciate what i do for you, instead of complain about it?” ✤ your mouth stayed shut, your tongue feeling as though it was glued to the top of your mouth ✤ “don’t mention anything like this again” ✤ you meekly nodded, and he strolled out the classroom ✤ the moment he was gone, you collapsed onto the floor out of fear, shivering as you replayed the scene again and again in your head ✤ the main question that circled your head was: why was he acting so controlling? ✤ the night after, you texted sakusa, and asked him to meet up with you at your favorite spot ✤ surprisingly, he complied. and you were waiting for awhile by the time he got there..

“Sakusa, hi!” You greeted your friend with a small but warm smile. The ace frowned; it was unlike you to call him by his last name. In fact, it had been months since you’ve said his name with such coldness in your voice. “..why did you call me out here?” He questioned in a low tone. Your eyes grew dark as you thought about what to say to him. “I wanted to talk to you about what happened yesterday. I feel as though we need to.” Sakusa’s own eyes narrowed as you spoke each word. “Are you still going to complain about my reminders to you?” Shaking your head, you stared at your feet while hugging your arms to your chest. “Of course not, I heard what you told me to do. I just.. wanted to know why you got so angry, is all.” The jet-black haired boy stared down at you, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to remember what specifically happened the day before. “I don’t know what you’re remembering, Y/N, but I wasn’t angry in the slightest. Are you sure you aren’t thinking of another memory of yours?” Your head snaps up when he said that he wasn’t angry. “Yes, I’m very sure.” You firmly say. “Maybe you don’t think you seemed angry, but you were downright furious. It was.. kind of terrifying.” “Are you saying I was out of control yesterday?” “No, just..” You subconsciously hugged your arms tighter to your body, trying to make yourself as small as possible. “..intimidating.” Sakusa tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. You found him intimidating? Just from a little conversation that happened because of you’re questioning ways? “I’m tired, and I’m sure you are, too,” you continued, not catching on that your friend was becoming annoyed with your talking. “Which is why I want to end this quickly. Sakusa, I have a life, too. As much as I appreciate what you do for me, I can take care of myself without your help-” “You’re repeating the same words you stated yesterday, just in different phrasing.” The germaphobe harshly cut in. “I said this once, but I will say it again, for your sake. I am doing this for your own good-” “-and I know what’s good for me and what isn’t, Sakusa!” You exclaimed, your arms no longer crossed. “I can make my own decisions! I’m not some dumb little kid you have to look after-” “Y/N-” “-so just drop this already! It doesn’t help anyone; it doesn’t help me, it doesn’t help you-” “Y/N.” Sakusa lost all patience. He towered over you, his hands clenched tightly into fists. You slightly shrink at his actions, your arms up in defense. The ace didn’t seem to notice your fear as he took a step forward. “You are crawling with so many germs, I can practically see them all over you. You are in no condition to be deciding on your hygiene, when you can’t even rid of the many dirt particles covering your skin.” He took another step forward, and you step back, unsure of what to do. Sakusa broke out of his anger when he heard a slight sob leave your lips. “Why do you hate me so much, Sakusa?!” You asked, pain laced into your voice. “I’m perfectly capable of not being dirty, can’t you see?! Why can’t you just leave me alone-” You used your sleeves to start wiping the tears away, although they doubled to replace the ones you removed. The ace hesitantly enveloped you in a hug, making you break down even more. “Sakusa- no- you’re gonna get germs on you-” You stammered, resisting the temptation to bury your face into his chest. “..I made you cry. I need to pay the consequences.” Said boy murmured, rubbing shapes onto your back. You continued to cry for a good 5 minutes, before slowly pushing him away. “..thank you.” You sniffled. “I know consequences has nothing to do with that. Why did you-?” “I like you, Y/N.” He cut you off, making your eyes widen. “The reason why I’d been constantly reminding you to wash up is because I thought I should date someone who was clean to the touch. That was wrong of me, so very wrong. I apologize, and it’s fine if you reject-” You shut him up with a kiss to his mask. “Are you traumatized yet?” You asked, trying to crack a smile. “That’s my revenge from yesterday.” Sakusa blinked multiple times before realizing what you did. “..I guess I deserved that. So is that a yes..?” You broke out into a beautiful, radiant smile this time, the moonlight making you glow even more than you already were. “Of course, Kiyoomi!”

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justjessame · 3 years

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A Little Ass and A Lotta Sass Chapter 51

“Kiara Jade, you put your baby brother down this instant,” the look I gave my flame haired mini-me had her lower lip pushing out into a pout that I knew would make her Daddy give in if he were anywhere in the vicinity. Unluckily for her, he wasn’t. “Now, young lady.”

With a huff that was far more Negan than me, or so I told myself, she carefully set her little brother back onto his own two feet, making certain that he had his chubby fingers latched onto the table in front of him before she let go completely. Turning back to me, she gave me a look that was full of spite and vinegar.

“Don’t give me that look,” I held open my arms and she stomped over to me, begrudgingly letting me pick her up - not really that much heavier at four years old than she had been at two. Kissing her nose, which she had wrinkled up as she studied my face, I winked at her and she broke. Giggling and kissing mine in return, I shook my head. “You are too much like your -”

“Daddy!” She was wiggling to get out of my arms, rolling my eyes, I released her, laughing as she rushed to Negan - barely giving him the time to set down Lucille and catch her.

“There’s Daddy’s little princess,” he was saying, kissing her cheek. “And look at his little man,” his eyes landed on Jace where he was bouncing while holding onto the table edge. “Having fun, buddy?”

Jace gave his signature happy giggle, combined with an easy greeting of “Da-da,” since he wasn’t quite as feisty as our little lady was. Dark haired, with my green eyes - I pitied anyone he pinned in that gaze when he grew up.

“You need to tell your little princess that she isn’t big enough to pick him up,” it was a familiar battle. Kiara wanted so badly to use her little brother as a real life baby doll, yet he was TOO big for it. Even when he was an infant and not a toddler he was too big for her to play pretend with - but she was headstrong, and God knew where she got that from.

“Kiara, are you giving Mommy heartburn again?” She giggled and he shook his head with a dramatic sigh. “You know that she isn’t in the right MOOD for that,” Negan came closer, reaching out for me, his arm wrapping around me and pulling me close to both of them. Kissing me deeply while she made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a gagging sound. When he pulled back, his hand touched the growing bump that was proof of just how little in the MOOD I was for an argument from our first born. “How’s the sickness been today, sweetheart?”

Unlike with Kiara and Jace, this third round had me hugging the porcelain throne at all hours of the day. Laura spent more time in our apartment keeping me company and watching the two little ones than she and I did out and about. That probably added to Kiara’s urge to play house with Jace as her life action baby.

“Rough,” the thought of food made me want to vomit, much less the smell or taste of it. Which left cooking duties to Negan, Laura, or Arat - I ate bland and drank plenty of fluids, monitored so closely by the doctor that I hated him more this round than ever before.

“I hate seeing you so tired, baby.” He kissed my forehead, and sighed. “Maybe this is the last one, huh?”

I chuckled. “Sure, Negan.” Shaking my head, I pulled back and looked up at him. “I’ll hold your hand while the good doctor snips you, alright?”

He blanched and Kiara touched his cheek, always so empathetic to her Daddy’s feelings. “You scared, Daddy?” Biting my lip, I waited for him to answer her.

“Course not, princess,” he kissed her nose and set her on her feet. “Go play with Jace, but DON’T pick him up.” Tapping her nose, he swatted her butt and she went giggling to the table to get Jace interested in the blocks. “Come here, Mommy, let Daddy hold you for a bit.”

Pulling me onto his lap on the sofa, where we could watch our two little minis playing, Negan held me and told me about his day.

Since working out a negotiation with the other communities, making sure that each was contributing what we could and working with one another to make the best out of the worst - somehow things seemed to be getting better. Even when new trouble drifted through - Whisperers and other strange groups that would have been harder to fight, but with the groups communicating and willing to figure shit out as a family, well no threat stood much of a chance.

Dad and Michonne had welcomed a son, my new brother RJ - before Jace was born and we had just as much trouble keeping Kiara from picking him up as we did her brother. Judith was one of her favorite playmates, and so was Hershel, but even with better communication visits were frequent. Less so when I was pregnant, especially since this time was so fucking pleasant.

“Rick’s coming for a visit,” Negan murmured, quiet so Kiara didn’t hear. Pappy Rick was STILL one of her most favorite humans on the planet, and a hard pill to swallow. “Sucks that THIS one,” his hands were cradling my bump, “wasn’t conceived in his humble abode.”

I couldn’t hold back my laughter. “You really can’t stand not being able to tease Dad about that, can you?”

“Fuck no,” he whispered, his lips against my ear, causing more than a little bit of distraction from my upset stomach. “I hate not being able to fuck with Rick about where each of our kids were planted right here in this gorgeous hot oven of yours,” that tongue of his was flicking against my skin and I felt like coming out of my skin - Negan and his damn cheating, while the kids were awake and Laura wasn’t in the fucking apartment.

“You suck,” I muttered, and I felt the heat from his breath as he laughed silently. “You’re getting me all hot and fucking bothered and the kids are RIGHT there, asshole.”

“Just think,” his teeth were teasing my sensitive skin now. “Once they go to bed, OR Laura comes back -” I nearly growled. “It’s on.”

#negan x ofc #The Walking Dead #rick grimes daughter #mention of smut #alternate universe #marriage #FLUFF AND SMUT #Family Fluff #pregnacy

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sxvxrxssnape · 3 years

Text

broken crayons and half a peanut butter cracker

snapetober day 28: “what did you do?” / day 25: headache plot what plot? there’s no plot in parenthood

Tentatively, he opened his eyes.

There wasn’t an immediate assault of pain as he blinked through the tired haze still enveloping him, so he figured it was safe to fully open them. Severus sat up, carding lazy fingers through his hair, and glared at the part in his curtains that allowed soft sunlight to filter into his bedroom.

He had gone to bed last night, suffering, after finding his jar of headache balm both empty and repurposed for inane childish use. He’d immediately binned the idea of staying up to brew a new batch, electing for an early bedtime and a moment of well-deserved peace under cool sheets instead.

It was early, especially for a Sunday morning, but the bright June sun had no qualms against rising as such. He might as well take this time to brew, before the next inevitable headache came.

Dressing quietly in a pair of trousers and a grey henley, Severus crept out of his room and peered through the door across the hall. He could make out the sprawled-out outline of a toddler fast asleep in their crib, the knitted blanket Minerva had made him only covering a singular foot. He sighed as he made out the rising and falling of a tiny chest and flicked his wand to fix the discarded blanket before closing the door with a gentle click.

He still wondered how they both ended up here.

There was a twist in his stomach, a tug on a shard of something sharp in his chest, whenever he thought about Lily. It had only been a couple of months since she had died - since she had been killed, not just at the hands of the Dark Lord, but in a way, also at the hands of himself.

Taking in the child who had nowhere else to go was the least he could do.

Jumping off the Astronomy Tower was the other, but Albus had warded the Observation Deck not too long after his breakdown in the circular office and though it irked him that the Headmaster had such little faith in his - admittedly - suicidal potions professor, he should at least know Severus wouldn’t do something quite so. . .dramatic.

Or maybe he would.

Fine, Albus had a point, but Severus was still allowed to be mad about it.

He grimaced as he walked into a discarded toy, accidentally causing the contraption of colorful plastic to light up and start singing. His wand was still in his hand, so he cast a silencing charm over the boy’s door and flicked the off switch on the activity cube.

The cube wasn’t the only thing littering the corridor, or the rest of his living space truth be told, and he could feel the remnants of last night’s headache reigniting. He could make out a half dozen jars scattered on the floor as well and scowled as he picked up the one holding something inside.

If that little brat was playing with expensive potion ingredients, he was going to owl him back to Hogwarts and demand Albus rehome him, no living relatives be damned.

Instead, he found it full of broken crayons and half a peanut butter cracker.

On second thought, he might just rehome him anyway.

He stalked into the kitchen and started brewing a pot of coffee, mentally going over the ingredients he would need to brew the much-needed headache balm. The sweet, earthy smell of dark-roasted Columbian beans permeated the air now, so he poured himself a mug and stirred in sugar.

He shook his head at the choice of mug - a tacky green thing that read “happy holidays” in the worst possible font - and took a long sip. It had been a gift from a first year - and not even one of his own first years at that, but a bloody Hufflepuff who wasn’t even good at potions - but last Christmas had been his first ever as a professor and despite scowling down at the child when handed the gift, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of something whenever he looked at it.

So yes, he had packed up the stupid mug when term ended and it was time to go. It wasn’t even the strangest thing he had packed up. This time, he had an orphaned toddler he had been coerced - manipulated, guilt-tripped, asked by the child’s own dead mother, take your bloody pick - into taking with him.

At least he didn’t have to return to Spinner’s End.

If being handed the keys to a small cottage in Solva was the payment for raising a child, he supposed he could have done worse. Of course, the little house hadn’t been chosen with his comfort in mind, but more with the safety and well being of The Boy Who Lived.

Oh, Merlin.

He was really doing this, wasn’t he?

It had been easy when the school year was still ongoing - Minerva and Pomona especially, were keen to take little Harry Potter off his hands whenever he had a class to teach or potions to brew. He had just gotten the hang of walking then and could often be found stumbling through the castle corridors and babbling away to bewildered portraits and students alike.

Now though? Now it was him and him alone against an almost two-year-old who was insistent on getting into everything and disregarding every boundary Severus had set. He was just like his wretched father, but Minerva had simply laughed at him and insisted that’s just how toddlers were.

He didn’t bother to point out she had inadvertently called James Potter a toddler.

He was too busy freaking out over how his path had led him to this particular point in life. He didn’t know how to be a father - all he had to go off was what not to do, and that largely consisted of not shoving a child down the stairs or drinking himself stupid.

Severus finished his coffee and set the empty mug aside. He opened a cabinet and began pulling out what he would need, easily settling into the familiar routine of filling the cauldron with water, picking marjoram and peppermint from the windowsill planter, prepping his ingredients, and began brewing.

This wasn’t the first time he’d nearly thought himself into an anxiety attack over Harry’s permanent existence in his life. He didn’t even care how it had happened anymore, all he cared about was keeping the boy alive for the summer.

He’d deal with the the rest of his life part later.

He fished out the steeped bitterroots from the simmering cauldron and moved them to the cutting board, finely chopping up the softened magenta plant. Normally, he would discard them after this step, but he was intent on experimenting this morning in hopes of increasing the potency while also decreasing its unfortunate side effect of putting him to sleep after a few hours.

These days, he needed to be more alert and clear-headed.

Keeping the bitterroot in should do just that.

“Let’s see what happens then.”

Severus dropped about half of the chopped bitterroot into the cauldron and watched it carefully, wand at the ready in case the potion had an adverse reaction. The light blue brew was slowly becoming grey and he pursed his lips, adding a few more drops of peppermint oil as an inhibitor and nodded when the potion turned back to blue.

He turned the flames off and floated the cauldron onto the kitchen table, resting the hot pewter on top of a wayward oven mitt, admiring the ribbons of herb scented steam that curled from the finished potion. Now it just had to cool before he could store it - or test it.

Setting the cutting board back on the table, he took his assortment of knives and measuring devices to the sink and spelled the tap on. As water ran over the dishes, he began rifling through the refrigerator for anything he could use for breakfast.

It seemed they needed to make a trip to the local market soon - this afternoon, preferably - and he scowled at the thought. Picking up groceries wouldn’t be such a chore, he thought, if someone didn’t insist on picking up every interesting stone they passed or kept veering off the path to follow the ducks.

He was holding onto a carton of eggs and was moving aside containers of unlabeled potion ingredients for the last bit of swiss he knew was somewhere, when he heard an excited little yell sound off behind him.

He peered over his shoulder and dropped the carton of eggs in alarm.

“What are you - get down from there!” he shouted, taking in the scene before him.

The messy-haired, green-eyed one year old that should still have been asleep was now perched on top of the table - and how the bloody hell had he managed to climb up there?! - and was peering curiously into the waiting cauldron.

Harry had stepped in the remaining bitterroot and had a tiny fist full of Merlin knows what, and was sprinkling his finds into the cauldron just as he had seen his guardian do many times before.

Severus whipped out his wand and cast a shield charm on the cauldron as he rushed to the table and picked up the delighted child, moving him out of the way before the potion could potentially explode.

“What did you do?!” he demanded of the insufferable toddler, setting him down on the farthest possible counter and glaring down at him.

In response, Harry only clapped his hands and tried to peer over his guardian’s shoulder. “Ba!” he squealed, pointing at the cauldron.

Severus rubbed at his temple, another headache threatening to flare up. How had he been so careless to not listen in for Harry? To leave the cauldron somewhere he could reach - and how had he?! Hadn’t he learned better by now? The boy had been in his care for how long now? Six months altogether? Two weeks out of Hogwarts? And Merlin, what a mistake this was turning out to be.

He rested his forehead against Harry’s for a moment before setting him back down. He had half a mind to floo call Minerva and ask her to take Harry for the day while he brewed a new batch of headache balm and maybe drafted a plan to off himself.

He returned to the abandoned cauldron and blinked. The potion was still the same shade of blue he had left it. He swirled a stirring stick through it and eyed it carefully, but the balm soon became a muddy brown as he fully incorporated whatever Harry had added.

He tested a small bit of the potion on the inside of his wrist and hissed as the skin blistered, immediately wiping the ruined potion off on the hem of his shirt. He turned to glare at the toddler and found he had wandered over to the discarded carton of now-broken eggs and was playing with bits of shell, a bit of yolk rubbed into his curls.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake.” he sighed, in equal parts amusement and defeat. “What are you doing now?”

He vanished the eggs, much to the child’s confusion and levitated the spelled-clean, pajama-clad boy into the air. “Come, Mr. Potter, I believe we have breakfast to locate.” He reached over and turned the still running tap off and grabbed the floating child.

He hoped Minerva wouldn’t mind the company.

“Nack?”

Severus shook his head, biting back an affectionate grin as he grabbed his cloak and a handful of floo powder. “Yes, you can have a snack.” he confirmed, with a very serious voice, tossing the powder into the grate.

He draped the cloak over the boy, covering his face, and stepped into the fireplace. ------ self-indulgent trash where i based baby harry off what my own toddler did? he didnt ruin a headache balm but he definitely decided to drop a handful of odds and ends into my coffee cup so same thing. the egg incident was a nightmare and sev should consider himself lucky that he has magic

anyway, hello, for my birthday today i wrote neurotic dad!snape i might delete bc ik how dumb this was

#snapetober 2020 #severitus #snapedom #severus snape

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xddaengx · 4 years

Text

Welcome Home: Spoilt

⚬ Pairings: Jimin x Reader ft Hoseok x Reader

⚬ Warnings: Mentions of Death | Mentions of Neglect? | Angst |

⚬ Word Count: 3.6k

⚬ Summary: With you and hobi getting ready to move, Jimin has started isolating himself from you - watching the two of you from afar, as happy as daisies, though as much as he seems to hate your new companion - he can’t help but want to be apart of the family.

⚬ Author’s Note: This is a repost of the second part of the Welcome Home: Series (as I wanted to change some minor things). I am hoping to post the third part very soon, so please stay tuned. You can find the masterlist for my series HERE. And if you would like to be added to my tag list just let me know. (either in the replies to this post or in an ask)

“Hobi, I don’t know if this is a good idea.” You say softly to the dark haired hybrid - who stands in the kitchen wrapping your ceramics in newspaper before packing them away in a large cardboard box.

“What do you mean? Why the second thoughts so suddenly? I mean, you already put down your deposit on the house and you said if you were going to live anywhere - you wanted to live somewhere out in the country, somewhere secluded.” He responds, stopping his motions of wrapping up kitchen ware moving to sit next to you on the couch. “I thought this was your dream house.” He adds as he sit besides you.

“I thought so too, but when I told Jimin the other day he just had me second guessing some things.” You respond, looking through the photos of the house on your computer.

It really was your dream house.

It was everything you had dreamed of escaping to when you and your ex-fiancee were still together.

“What do you mean he was making you second guess things?” Hoseok asks as he leans his head lightly on your shoulder, looking at your computer as you continue to flip through the photos.

“I don’t know - he just seemed so upset, so betrayed. It just made me realise how heart broken I would be to have to leave him behind. He was my only friend for four years after I moved here - he was always there for me and now I feel like I’m abandoning him.”

You had told Jimin that you decided to move almost six days ago and you hadn’t seen the sassy cat anywhere in the halls - not even on the steps out the front where you drank you coffee every morning. You were almost certain he was avoiding you, and it had started to make you second guess your decision.

A few days after you had told Jimin, you and Hobi had started to pack up your apartment, and as your furniture started to lessen and the apartment was starting to look more empty, you couldn’t help but wonder why the cat was avoiding you.

“I’m just gonna go sit outside for a bit - I need some fresh air.” You say softly to Hoseok, who nods his hand giving your own a tight squeeze as he watches you leave the apartment. He had noticed your routine over the past few days - you would go outside at the same times everyday and sit on the steps waiting hoping to catch a glimpse of Jimin.

Hoseok was always quick to catch onto things - but even he had to admit it took him a while to notice what you were doing. He had been watching you and the cat hybrid interact for months now and had to admit you two seemed to have a connection he didn’t know about.

He could see it in the way Jimin looked at you when you were focused on something else.

He could see it in the way Jimin would bang on your front door - rushing into your bedroom whenever you woke up screaming in your sleep.

It was easy for Hoseok to be jealous at first, to want to keep the two of you separated - all he wanted was to keep you for himself - but something about Jimin gave you so much joy and comfort that he couldn’t dare seperate the two of you. So everyday he would sit and pack things while you waited outside for the pretty kitty.

You would often sit outside for hours before you would give up - no sign of the feline in sight. He always had a way to break your heart without even meaning too. Today was no different - and after waiting out on the steps watching your most recent Korean drama for more than two hours you were about to get up from your spot on the steps and head inside - when a familiar large yellow blanket was draped over your shoulders.

“You really shouldn’t be waiting outside when it’s so cold. At least put a blanket on before you leave your apartment.” The voice you had been searching for, for days finally said from behind you. It took you no hesitation to spring up from your spot on the steps turning to face the hybrid in shock.

“You came? I honestly didn’t think you would’ve come out here at all.” You say looking over the thinning hybrid.

Jimin’s hair was a mess on top of his head, his clothes loose around his body and the large bag under his eyes showed he hadn’t been sleeping very well.

“Yeah, well, some of us are busy.” He says, his tone cold as he avoids your eyes turning to look at the ground instead. “Just start taking better care of yourself.” He whispers, moving to walk back to his apartment.

“Why have you been avoiding me Jimin? I thought we were friends?” Jimin’s head turns down to the ground as you question him, not giving him much time to respond before you add. “Do you not want to be friends anymore?” Jimin’s head whips around as he looks at you in disbelief. His mouth opening and closing a few times as he tries to respond.

“How could you say something like that?” He questions you, his eyebrows furrowing in hurt as he takes a step away from you. He looks you over quickly before scowling.

“How can you say something like that when you’re the one leaving.” He spits, his tail flicking furiously behind him as he continues. “You’re the one leaving me behind - So I’m sorry if I’m not feeling up to being buddy buddy with you and that dog... You promised me you would never leave me behind.” He lets out a sigh before spinning on his heel and rushing off to his own apartment.

“Shit.” You huff, pulling Jimin’s yellow blanket around you tighter as your trudge back to your own apartment.

You really have a talent for messing things up.

“Maybe talking to him is the best idea.” Hoseok says as he watches you pace back and forth in the lounge room. It had been a week since Jimin had exploded at you, and it had really started to bother you. You had told Hoseok later that night what had happened and why you had come back to the apartment so miserable.

“Well, I can see where he’s coming from. I would probably be pretty upset if you were moving away from me too.” He had told you after your repeated what Jimin had yelled at you before he stormed off. You rubbed your faces in frustration before flopping onto the couch with your face against the cushion - before sighing that you had to find a way to make things right or you wouldn’t know how to function anymore.

You had spent the past few days after your first talk with Hoseok trying to find a way to make up with Jimin - to apologise for making him so upset.

“How can I talk to him, if he won’t come anywhere near me?” You question the hybrid who sits besides you patting your head lightly, like you do when he’s as stressed as you are.

“Maybe you should talk to Mrs Park - she might know more.” Hoseok suggests, the idea finally lighting up a fire in you. Mrs Park - Jimin’s owner - was a very kind old lady and had always been extremely happy to see you come around. Maybe if you asked her to help you win Jimin back he would have no choice but to finally talk to you.

“You’re a genius.” You hum, placing a quick peck on Hoseok’s forehead before rushing to grab your keys off the bench exclaiming that you were running to the store to grab something before heading over to Mrs Park’s apartment. Hoseok just nodded as you disappeared from the apartment leaving him a blushing mess of the couch, as he presses soft fingers the the burning spot on his forehead where you had kissed him.

“God damn that girl.”

Armed with flowers and Mrs Park’s favourite chocolates in hand you knock quickly on her front door - waiting for a few moments before knocking again. It’s another few minutes before you hear rustling behind the door.

“I told you that I’m packing - I still have another wee— Oh, it’s you.” You’re surprised to see Jimin open the door - his frame somehow looking a little smaller than it had a week ago - his hair still a mess on top of his head. “What’re you doing here?” Jimin asks, looking down at the small care package in your hands.

“I thought I should pay Mrs Park a visit - thank her for everything she’s done for me - Is she here?”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? Is she at a doctors appointment?” You ask - looking behind Jimin at the gloomy apartment. Mrs Park had been in a wheel chair for the past year and never really left her apartment much without Jimin so her not being here wasn’t something you were expecting.

“No.” Jimin answers your question - something was definitely wrong.

“Where is she Jimin?” You ask getting a better look behind him at the empty apartment, two suitcases sitting in the lounge room with Jimin’s clothes spilling out. Jimin steps to the side letting you enter the empty apartment before turning to face you - his face flushed red as he hold back tears.

“She had a stroke two week ago…” He begins, not being able to hold back for much longer as he lets out a soft whine, raising his hands to wipe at the tears on his cheeks. “…She didn’t make it.” He finishes his sentence as you rush forwards wrapping your arms around his neck. He’s quick to wrap his own arms around you letting everything come undone.

“Oh, Jimin.” You coo, patting the hybrids head softly as you try not let your own tears fall.

No wonder he had looked so run down a few days ago.

Mrs Park had gotten Jimin when he was a toddler and had raised him since then - he had practically lost his mother. “It’s going to be alright.” You whisper continuing to rub circles on his back as he tries to calm himself down - his sobs turning into small hiccups. You manage to pull his head from your shoulder as his crying comes to an end wiping the tears off his face softly.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Have you been living here on your own?” You question him, your sadness growing as he lets out a small nod.

“What was the point in telling you - you’re leaving anyway.” He whispers, taking a step back, pulling his face away from your hands.

“Jimin…What about those suitcases?” You sigh at the cat hybrid, motioning to the two bags sitting in the middle of the empty room.

“Mrs Park’s son is allergic to cats.” He says quickly. “He was taking me to the rescue shelter next week.” He adds, his hands clasping in front of him as he watches your mouth fall open - your anger boiling.

“Are you kidding me? Jimin this is something you’re supposed to tell me. Were you just going to wait until I left and suffer on your own?” You snap at him.

“And what could you have done? Legally her son has ownership of me now - he can do whatever he likes. And don’t worry you and your new best friend can still go live happily ever after in the country - Mr Park said that purebred usually get adopted quickly…people like to have purebreds.” Jimin snaps back his tail flicking behind him - his ears pressed against the top of his head.

“Is that what you want? We both know what people do with purebred hybrids, Jimin. You should’ve told me Jimin. I would’ve been able to do something.” You know that yelling at Jimin isn’t fair but you can’t help it. People could be awful and the future of Jimin being a breeding stud terrified you.

“What would you have done?” Jimin prods taking a few steps towards you - so close that your chests are almost touching.

“I don’t know Jimin…”You pause for a moment trying to ignore the tense feeling in the air. “…I would’ve taken you with me. I would’ve tried to adopt you and take you with me.” You add, your words faltering slightly as Jimin continues to glare down at you - both of your breathing heavily and glaring at each other.

Isn’t it funny how quickly things change.

Jimin hands reach for your face without a moment of hesitation - his lips finding yours just seconds later. You can’t help but let out a groan, as your hands find their way into Jimin’s hair, his hands trailing down your body until they reach your hips - gripping them tightly.

The two of you take small steps back - entwined in each other - until your back hits the front door, Jimin’s hands moving from your hips to grip your thighs tightly, lifting them until the sit tightly around his waist, his body pushing you further against the door.

Jimin lets out a low growl as his lips move away from your own pressing small kisses down the side of you cheek until he reaches the small curve where your jaw and neck meets, his sharp teeth grazing the skin lightly. You press your head back against the door, squeezing your eyes shut as you let out a breathy moan - Jimin’s lips moving further down your neck until they press gently against your collar bones. His hands move under your shirt moving gently up and down your sides as he pulls his mouth away looking over you.

“Look at what you do to me.” He whispers, his left hand moving to your cheek to tilt you head down towards his - your eyes opening slowly. His pupils were sharp slits, his hair a mess on top of his head as you run your finger through his white locks. His lips were a bright pink your lipgloss smudged over his lips.

He sends you a small grin with a breathy laugh before leaning forwards and capturing your lips with his once more - this time much softer, the kiss between the two of you seeming to say everything you couldn’t with words. His hands move back to your thighs, gently prying them off his waist so your stand, your feet firm on the ground in front of him. He presses a few more chaste kisses to your lips before parting, pressing his forehead against your own - his eyes tightly closed.

“God…You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.” He whispers softly, as you finally pull your fingers from his hair moving them to gently stroke his cheeks as he lets out a shaky breath.

“Did you mean what you said?” He questions you quietly, his eyes opening slowly his pupils back into the large circles you were used to his gaze watching you closely as you nod - your breathing still ragged.

“Would you still do it?” He asks you next his fingers drawing small circles into the skin on your hips - his attention focused on a small corner right on the edge. “Would you still take me with you? Would you still adopt me?” He adds his own breath hitching as you nod again.

“In a heartbeat.” You whisper with a small smile that Jimin returns before pressing his lips to yours once more.

“God…I love you so much.”

“What if this doesn’t work?” You question Jimin, who stands by your side fiddling with his fingers, not looking up from the ground.

“It has to.” He answers quietly, giving you an encouraging smile as you knock on the apartment door in front of you. It only take a few moments before the door swings open, a short stocky man standing in front of you.

“Are you Park Myunghoon?” You question, the man gives a quick nod, looking over Jimin with a snarl. “My name is Y/N, I live down the hall - I was a good friend of Mrs Park and her hybrid Jimin.” You say motioning to the hybrid behind you before turning back to the small man.

“I’ve heard that due to Mrs Park’s unfortunate passing and your allergy to cats that Jimin will be given to a rescue centre to be put up for adoption.” The man seems to smirk at the end of your sentence probably being able to guess where you were going with this.

“Listen Kid, I understand the you want to help your friend but the rescue centre already offered me a thousand for him - and they already have a potential buyer.” He says almost dismissing you, but you take a step forwards, somehow being at eye level with the man.

“I can see you’re a smart man Mr Park, but I just feel like only a thousand is such an injustice. With a feline hybrid with Jimin’s heritage and a purebred ragdoll - which are rare in themselves - only a thousand is a rip off. If you sign the adoption papers today I’m willing the offer you two thousand five hundred for him.” You say quietly trying to bargain with the money hungry side of the man. You words seem to work as he looks between you and the hybrid hesitantly. “I have cash.” That seems to be what gets the man to sigh, reaching his hand out impatiently. Jimin steps forwards with a pen and the papers necessary telling the stubby man where to sign before he tucks them under his arms taking a few steps back.

“Thank you for your business, Mr Park. We hope we won’t be hearing from you anytime soon.” You say handing the man a bulging white envelope - before turning on your heel and ushering Jimin out of the apartment building to your car parked on the curb.

“I can’t believe that worked, it just seemed way too easy.” You huff as you slide into the drivers seat, Jimin sliding into the passenger seat besides you.

“I told you - he’s a shallow man - nothing a bit of cash wouldn’t solve.” Jimin says with a large grin - Mrs Park had left some money in case of emergency in Jimin’s name - ten thousand she left for him - and the poor man was too dumb to find a way out of giving Jimin what he was owed.

“I guess we should break the news to Hobi.” You add, Jimin had put his suitcases in your car two days ago - not ever wanting to have to return to his old apartment after the papers were signed - too many memories, too much lost.

It’s been two weeks since Jimin joined your small family - Hoseok and Jimin seeming to have an unspoken truce and were seeming to be putting up with each other well. The day you broke the news to Hoseok he seemed surprised, he had no idea what the two of you had been planning and the surprise addition to the family made him a bit uneasy.

You didn’t blame him.

He had only been with you for a few months himself but you had already begun changing everything - adding more people, moving house things were a bit hectic for the adjusting hybrid. He had sulked for a few days but came around eventually when Jimin proved himself to be handy around the home, as much as he liked to follow hoseok around and knock things over.

Jimin’s new favourite past time has become annoying Hobi as much as possible. His favourite way seemed to be by being overly affectionate with you. Almost all day Jimin would stand besides you with his hand in yours, his head nuzzling into your neck - a small grin sprouting as Hoseok lets out a scoff.

It doesn’t take long for Hoseok to finally snap, sneaking into your bedroom one night when Jimin is showering.

“Why aren’t you that affectionate with me?” He spits out, as he looks at you reading your latest fantasy series cuddled under your blanket.

“What do you mean?” Your quick to ask placing the book besides you as you sit up further looking at Hoseok in concern.

“You and Jimin cuddle and hold hands all the time, I even saw him try to kiss you the other day.” He responds, throwing his hands up in defeat when you still don’t seem to understand his words. “Why don’t you do that with me…I want to cuddle and hold hands, but you always seems so awkward around me - like you don’t like being near me.” He finally says and you sputter a little trying to hold in a shocked laugh.

“Hobi, you know that’s not true - I love being around you.” You chuckle watching as the boy pouts moving to sit at the end of your bed. “You probably think I’m being awkward cause I don’t want to push you to do something that might make your uncomfortable. I would love to be more affectionate with you, I just want to be sure if that’s what you want too.” You explain and Hoseok seems to relax a little bit, moving closer to you on the bed, taking your hands in his, as his thumbs rub small circles into your palms.

“Have you and Jimin kissed before?” He asks softly, not looking away from your palms not even as you choke on the air your breathing in. You nod slowly as you take in deep breaths.

“Then you have to give me one too.” He says his pout returning on his lips, al you can do is roll your eyes, a small grin spreading across your face as Jimin saunters into the room his torso bare as his towel is wrapped around his waist.

You sigh ignoring the scandalous feline before leaning forwards and pressing a chaste kiss on Hoseok lips, pulling away with a raised brow.

“Happy?” You ask, Hoseok nodding furiously in response.

“Anyway big boy.” Jimin whispers as he leans over besides Hoseok, “We’ve done much more than just a little kiss.” Jimin teases as he walks back to the bathroom with his clothes in hand leaving you shaking your head and denying his claim.

“He’s lying.” You spit out glaring at the bathroom door, not noticing how Hobi’s ears flatten against his head.

“It’s offical…I’m going to kill him.”

“Hobi, No.”

TAG LIST: @littlewolfieposts @sana-b @purplelady85 @btsxdoll

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justahopelessssromantic · 4 years

Note

But my another one is a imagine is a where u and angel have a child but it’s mixed and he doesn’t tell anyone so y’all end up in an argument and end up as a breakup but get back together if that makes sense

*I’m sorry it took a little while but I finally got it done! 😁 I hope you love it and it’s what you were hoping for 💕 Thanks so much for the request girl!*

*gif not mine*

Warnings: Some Fluff and Some Angst with a good old fashioned happy ending

The infectious sound of your daughter’s laugh woke you up from your slumber with a smile on your face. Sitting up you looked on at Angel as he had your three year old pinned under him, blowing raspberries onto her belly, causing the fit of giggles that had your heart swelling with love.

“Papi stop!” She squealed between giggles as she pushed on his head with all her little might.

Creeping silently out of bed you tried to sneak up behind him, your daughter catching sight of you and screaming for you to rescue her, “Mommy!”

Angel pulled away from his little girl, her breathing heavily as she tried to catch her breath and squirm away from him. He turned around to face you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a grin on his face.

“Don’t you dare,” you said slowly, knowing full well what he was up to.

“I think it’s mommy’s turn, don’t you mija.” He said standing up and prowling towards you.

“Get her Papi!” Your daughter screamed enthusiastically.

“I’m serious, don’t Angel,” you said trying to keep your giggles down as you backed away, hands in front of you defensively.

You turned to make a break for it out your bedroom door, Angle quickly catching you around the waist and dragging you back before laying you across the bed. You tried to fight him off, laughing, as his hands tickled your sides knowing that was your weak spot.

Your child cheered and egged him on bouncing up and down before climbing her way onto the bed.

He finally let up, the three of you in a fit of laughter now. He looked into your eyes as he hovered above you, both breathless as your laughter died down. He licked his lips staring at yours before he leaned down, your lips meeting in a kiss, his tongue slipping his way into your mouth.

Both of you caught up in the moment, you seemed to forget about your little toddler sitting nearby, “Eww blechk,” she said, sticking her tongue out, making a gagging noise.

Pulling away you both laughed at her reaction.

“What? You mad I’m giving mama all the kisses?” He teased, pulling her into his arms and placing a big wet kiss on the side of her face.

“Papi your beards scratchy!” She complained, rubbing her face with her little hand.

You smiled just enjoying your Sunday morning with your family wishing this mood would last the whole day but it wasn’t long before Angel’s damn phone went off interrupting your perfect day.

“Yo,” he answered getting off the bed and walking out into your living room as he took the call.

Putting on a fake smile you got up pulling your daughter into your arms, dreading what you knew was coming, as you carried her out on your hip, “How about we get some breakfast, yeah?” She smiled up at you nodding.

You walked with her into the kitchen opening the cupboard and pulling out the pancake mix, bowl, and utensils, setting her down on the counter as you began scooping out some of the mix into the bowl.

You waited for Angel to come back, trying to listen in to the conversation but not being able to hear much from his hushed voice. You heard as he ended the call before retreating back into the bedroom.

“Chocolate chips, chocolate chips!” Your daughter chanted reaching for the bag laying on the counter.

You ran your hand gently across her cheek before placing a small kiss to her forehead, taking the chocolate morsels and pouring some into the bowl.

You listened as you heard Angel’s bootsteps trudge into the kitchen before stopping behind you. He gripped your waist before placing a kiss to the top of your shoulder, “I’m sorry, mi dulce.” He murmured.

Your shoulders tensed as you already knew what was coming. You didn’t want to turn around and face him, knowing you would snap, and not wanting your daughter to see that.

“Where you going Papi?” (Y/D/N) said, disappointment in her voice.

Angel sighed as he stepped back, his heart breaking, as he looked at his whole world looking at him pouting.

You collected yourself before scooping your daughter up and setting her down on the ground, leaning over to talk to her, “Why don’t you go pick out a movie? We can watch it while we eat our breakfast.” You said gently. You knew this would be enough to distract her as you never let her watch tv while eating.

Hurrying off she ran into the living room to make her selection.

Standing up straight you leaned back against the counter arms crossed as you looked at Angel now fully dressed, cut and all.

“Don’t look at me like that (Y/N),” he sighed running his hand through his hair, “you know when the club needs me I have to go.”

“And what about your family? What about when we need you?” You huffed, trying to keep your voice low, “Why can’t you just tell them to fuck off because your spending the day with your family for once, like you promised.”

He gave you a look, eyes pleading.

“Oh yeah, that’s right. They don’t even know we exist!” You spat, throwing your arms up.

He went to respond but you cut him off, “And why is that exactly Angel? Are you ashamed of us? Afraid of what they will think about your big bad boy persona if they knew the truth? Why are we a secret? What are you afraid is gonna happen if your two worlds collide? Felipe and EZ know about us, so why can’t the club?”

He looked back at the clock behind you, knowing he didn’t have time for this right now. His shoulders drooped and he frowned. If he was late Bishop would have his ass and he was already walking on thin ice with el presidente right now.

“I can’t do this right now,” he pleaded, “but I promise we will talk about this when I get back, por favor querida.”

“If you leave right now Angel, we won’t be here when you get back.” You said, meaning every word, you had had enough.

Angel hesitated, being between a rock and a hard place, he looked once more at the clock before back at you, hoping to be calling your bluff, “Please mi amor. We will talk when I get back.” With that he left you, hopping onto his bike and riding away as you listened as the rumble got quieter.

Tears filled your eyes as you couldn’t believe he actually left you. He chose the club over you, but what hurt worse was that he chose the club over your daughter. Wiping your eyes quickly you pulled on another fake smile as your daughter came bounding into the kitchen with her favorite movie.

“Alright let’s make some pancakes!” You exclaimed over the top clapping your hands together.

—————————————————————————————————————

Angel pulled into the driveway, turning off his bike and climbing off exhausted. It was late, the sky almost pitch black and they had just got back from the other side running an errand for the cartel. All he wanted to do was kick back and relax with his girls curled up against him on the couch, taking his mind off the stressful day. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen. He promised you that you guys could talk about it so that’s what he was going to do.

Unlocking the front door he stepped into your home flicking the light on, he assumed you would be waiting up for him so he was surprised to find your shared home completely dark, but then again it was late, maybe you were just in bed already.

He kicked his boots off hanging his cut up by the door. Walking down the hallway he slowly pushed your daughter’s room door open expecting to see her fast asleep, but finding her bed empty. She must be in your bed he thought. It wouldn’t be the first time she slept with the two of you.

He stepped into the bedroom and that’s when he noticed his bed was also vacant, completely made up and untouched. This is when he started to panic. He rushed to the dresser opening your drawers and finding them empty. Slamming them shut violently he rushed back into your daughter’s rooms doing the same with the same results.

You really left him. You weren’t bluffing.

He sunk down onto the floor leaning his back against your daughter’s bed as he clutched his chest. He had never felt this heartbroken or lost before in his life. It was as if someone cut off one of his limbs and he didn’t know what to do.

Pulling out his phone he tried calling you, but of course you didn’t answer, so he called the next person he could think of, “I fucked up Pops, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

—————————————————————————————————————

“I told you he was no good. I told you he was trouble. I told you to leave him long before he knocked you up, but no!”

You rubbed your temples, elbows rested on your knees, as your best friend went on and on with the told you so’s. You knew she didn’t like him from the beginning but this was the last thing you needed right now.

“Enough!” You yelled, catching yourself and quieting down as you looked at your sleeping child not far away, “I get it, okay?”

“I’m just saying.” she said much more gently as she sat besides you, “I love you guys and I just hate to see you hurting because of some asshole.”

“I know,” you sighed, “it’s been a long day, I think I just want to try to get some sleep.”

“Of course,” she stood up resting her hand gently on your shoulder, “you are welcome to stay here as long as you need.” Walking out the door closing it behind her she left you and your daughter in the small guest bedroom.

Laying down you pulled her close inhaling her comforting scent, already missing having Angel snuggled with the two of you.

—————————————————————————————————————

It had been a couple of days since you left Angel. You ignored every call he made to you and refused to tell him where you were but he already knew where you’d be. Your daughter kept asking about Papi and you tried your best to avoid and divert her questions, not really sure how to explain it to the toddler. She was a daddy’s girl and was not taking the separation well which only made matters worse for you.

The two of you were in the car now with EZ heading to have lunch. He called earlier and you gave in hoping that things would be better if she at least got to see her tío and he promised that he wouldn’t try to ambush you with Angel.

“You know you can’t keep her from him,” he said as you drove down the street. He knew it was a tough situation between you and his brother but he also knew it wasn’t right to keep the child from her father. Angle loved you and that little girl more than anything, EZ could see that, and that’s what started the fight in the first place.

“Why not? He kept us from the club.” You said stubbornly.

Your daughter sat in her car seat in the back playing with the new toy motorcycle EZ had bought for her.

Sighing EZ stopped at a stop sign before turning left in the opposite of the diner you were planning on having lunch at.

“Where are we going EZ?” You asked, starting to get suspicious.

“I just need to make one quick stop.” He said, keeping his eyes on the road. Pulling up to the scrapyard he pulled into the lot parking the car. Angel was outside leaning against his bike.

“You promised,” you scolded EZ giving him a glare.

“Papi!” Yelled your little girl when she saw her daddy waiting outside. She squirmed in her seat excitedly, trying to wiggle her way out of it.

Taking a deep breath you exited the vehicle slowly making your way over to Angel arms crossed once again as he met you halfway.

“(Y/N),” he started to say.

You cut him off, “What are we doing here Angel? What is this place?”

“Look,” he said, running his fingers gently down the side of your face, easing some of your tension with his touch and voice, “All I wanted to do was protect you, mi dulce, and in the end I only ended up hurting you. You and her are everything to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you, but the club has a lot of enemies and it’s dangerous. I couldn’t bear the thought of you coming into the crosshairs from it. That’s why I wanted to keep you separate from it.”

You looked into his eyes seeing that he was being honest with you and you reached out to tenderly touch his face. “I believe you,” you whispered, “I’m sorry for thinking the worst in you. I shouldn’t have left like that. She needs her father and so do I.”

Smiling relieved Angels wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in tightly to his chest before kissing you.

“Icky!” Your daughter yelled from EZ’s arms behind you.

You all laughed as you pulled away and EZ handed her off to Angel as she reached out desperately for him. She wrapped her tiny arms around his neck hanging on tightly, “I missed you Papi!”

“I missed you too, amorcito. Now come on I have some people I’d like you to meet.” Grabbing your hand with his free arm he walked with you leading you into the clubhouse.

Your daughter buried her face in her father’s neck as she looked at all the men about the room. “It’s ok mija. These are all your tío’s.” She picked her head up at the familiar word looking to her tío EZ before all the other men.

“This is my family,” he introduced you two to the club, “My girl (Y/N),” he squeezed your hand, “And our daughter (Y/D/N).” He smiled proudly showing his girls off to his other family.

The men came up to you one by one introducing themselves. They were all so kind and welcoming, you could see the familia bounds between them. Your heart leapt with joy and you leaned up to kiss Angel, thankful he finally let you in on this part of his life.

Angel grinned as you both watched your little girl smiling and playing with EZ and some of the guys, his arm holding you tightly against him around your waist. His heart swelled, for the first time in a long time he felt complete as his two worlds came together beautifully as one.

Everything Taglist: @jad3djay

#angel reyes #angel reyes imagine #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #requests

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wonderwomanfantasy · 5 years

Text

Enemies with benefits

I am a sucker for soft Dabi

Dabi x Hero!reader

word count: 2.320 (about)

warnings: smut, cursing, violence, injury and slight gore (Dabi gets a staple ripped out) blood.

Summary: Dabi sure as hell didn’t mean to fall in love with a hero. but here he was, pulling his punches at the last second, and you aren’t exactly helping by stealing his clothes and staying the night. but he should have feelings because this isn’t a relationship. It’s just sex.

Dabi had never meant to fall in love with a hero. And he was sure you had never planned on being in a relationship with someone like him. If you could even call whatever this was a relationship. The term 'fuck buddies' seemed to fit better. All the same you were still here in his bed, wearing only his shirt and cuddling into his chest, and of course, he wasn't pushing you away. He moved a strand of hair out of your sleeping face, before gently pressing his lips to your forehead. It was a romantic gesture he would have never tried if you where awake.

Dabi wrapped his arms around you holding your body close to his. You squirmed in his grasp, settling into a comfortable position. Maybe you didn't love him, maybe this was all just sex for you, but moments like this really got his hopes up. Of course, catching feelings were against the rules. You and your stupid rules.

Rule 1.) No feelings, Just sex. After all, what would happened if people found out you were dating? A Pro hero and an evil villain, what would people think? And besides, where would you go to on dates? Nowhere public that's for sure.

Rule 2.) No special treatment. He would still kick your ass if he saw you outside of his bedroom, and you would still try to arrest him. He couldn't even save your name in his phone. And as much as it pained him-No flirting on the battlefield.

And last but not least, Rule 3.) No one else. This was a rule just for Dabi and it wasn't really a rule. Every time he got someone else beneath him, or on top of him for that matter, they always failed to satisfy. It seemed that you and only you could satiate his hunger.

Dabi had been the one to approach you first. The club was dark and there were so many people. Countless, sweaty bodies colliding to the heavy base of some song he didn't know the name of. Even still, he had spotted you at once and recognized you the same instant. I mean how could he not know the face of the Hero who had tried to kill him countless times. But you just looked so damn good in that dress. Your costume didn't do justice to your curves, not the way this skimpy little thing did. He couldn't stop his feet from moving to your side. Or his hands from falling to your waist and yanking your ass against his groin. Dabi was always one to play with fire.

Maybe you didn't recognize him, although that was hard to believe, or you just didn't care who he was. Either way, you followed his lead. Grinding your rear against his hips. Your fingers running over his scared chest in feather light touches. you where the one to pull him out of the club and lean him up against the cold stone wall of the building. He had never thought about kissing you before, now it was all he wanted.

He had kissed you passionately while his fingers dug into your exposed thighs. His mouth traveled from your lips to your jawline, then your neck. He bit at your flesh, twisting it between his teeth before licking away the pain with his warm tongue. “I'm going to fuck you so hard, you aren't going to be able to walk tomorrow,” he growled into your collar bone.

“you better or else I'm going to walk my ass back here and find someone who will,” you snapped bringing your thigh between his legs, right against his growing bulge. He loved that you didn't roll over and give him what he wanted. He loved having to work for what he wanted.

It had been an amazing night. So amazing that he had given you his number. Well, the number to a burner phone but that's not the point. It wasn't often the two of you could hook up, you were busy a lot and he was in jail, a lot. But when he could have you it was always amazing. Over the months you staid the night more often, and every little thing he learned about you only made him love you more. It had been almost three whole weeks since he had last seen you but luckily the two of you had a fight.

Not a domestic fight (was it wrong that he wanted to have domestic fights with you?) but a real fight with blood and punching. You could be ruthless when there were other people around.

“Damn, Baby that hurt,” he muttered looking at the staple you had just ripped out of his cheek.

“Don't you 'baby' me,” you snarled dodging one of Toga's knives as it whizzed past your head. He swung at you his fist engulfed in blue flames. You avoided it narrowly and stopped his foot with your dumb High healed boot. Honestly, how could you even fight in those things?

“Get out of here Dabi, you're only getting in the way!” Shigaraki shrieked like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Dabi knew he wasn’t giving his all in this fight. You sure as hell weren't pulling any punches, but he couldn't bring himself to hit you as hard as he used to. He didn't need Shigaraki yelling at him twice. He wasted no time leaving the base and stumbling his way back to his lonely apartment. As he walked, he silently prayed you would get away unharmed.

He staggered into his bathroom and looked at himself in the small mirror above the sink. He looked like shit. The right side of his jaw was dark with blood and there was already a bruise forming on his temple. He dropped the staples on the lip of the sink and slouched down on the linoleum floor. His head was swimming and the harsh fluorescent lighting wasn't helping.

The next thing he knew he was being jolted awake by a pounding at his door. It could be you. or it could be Shigaraki. “It's unlocked” he shouted hoping his voice would carry through the thin walls of his apartment. Just a moment later you were creeping into his bathroom.

“hey Baby,” you purred crouching down beside him

“don't you Baby me,” he said mocking your voice. You winced.

“I'm sorry Babe, let me clean you up,” you whispered. He let you sit him on the edge of the bathtub and pull out your medical Aid kit. Dabi was glad you were using your stuff and not the half empty bottle of vodka and hello kitty band-aids he always used. You cleaned off the blood, stitched up his wounds, and even put his staples back in for him. All the while kissing him softly to distract him from the pain.

“there all better,” you said cheerfully

“don't tell me that means your leaving now,” he whined grabbing your wrist. He could always get away with being clingy when he was hurt.

“well my options are Paperwork or hanging out with you, and honestly, you are a lot more fun.” you purred kissing him again, this time more flirtatiously. He stood, cupping your face gently, and pressing you against the cold tile wall. His hands developed minds of there own and groped your ass. Normally he would be rough both of you fighting for dominance. But tonight he just wasn't in the mood for anything rough, plus he was still kind of sore from the ass kicking he had just gone through.

“aren't you tired?” you asked sliding your hands up his shirt. He was tired, but he was also horny.

“you're just going to have to gentle with me,” he purred. Dabi grabbed you by the thighs, you jumped up wrapping your legs around his waist. He smirked and surprised you by biting your shoulder.

“I'm delicate,” he whispered in your ear sending a shiver up your spine. He carried you to his bed his teeth nibbling along the side of your neck. He laid you down on his bed. He was out of breath already. You hooked your leg around his hips and flipped him so he was beneath you

“naught little thing,” he chuckled. You sat up on his lap and took off your shirt, revealing your black sports bra.

“Shut up and let me take care of you,” you said pulling off his shirt as well. Dabi had to say it was nice having you pamper him. You kissed him gently, letting your tongue explore the inside of his mouth. Dabi ran his hands over your back, holding you close.

Your mouth traveled lower, kissing his chest you ran your fingers over his nipples tweaking slightly. He hissed, making you twist his nipples once more, before moving lower. You kissed his hips while undoing is jeans with your hands. Dabi angled his hips up so you could slide his pants down his legs. You ran your fingers over his tented underwear.

“don't tease,” he grunted closing his eyes. You pulled his half hard cock out of his boxers. You pumped him slowly. You licked the underside of his cock the way he liked. You continued to tease his cock until he was rock hard and leaking pre-cum.

“what do you want?” you asked, flicking your eyes up to meet his Azure eyes. There was a cold fire burning in his eyes that sent a wave of heat to your core.

“I want you to be good for me and sit on my face,” he growled. You were quick to remove the remainder of your clothing and scramble up the bed to meet him.

“are you sure you Dabi? You don't have to do that for me,” you whispered. He thought about it for a second and cupped your face pulling you in for a kiss. It was sweet and passionate, almost loving. You would have called it romantic if it was coming from anyone other than Dabi. You must be misreading thing again, because Dabi didn't do romantic.

You flipped from beside him to on top of him, giving him better assess to your mouth. His hips would buck up grazing his cock against your clit teasing you both with the bare minimum of friction. You kept having to remind yourself to keep things slow as not to hurt Dabi any more than you already had. Dabi didn't seem to have the same struggle as you did. He turned the kiss from sweet and passionate to sweet and Lazy and the teasing didn't seem to be affecting him as much as it did you.

“I need you inside of me babe,” you whimpered pulling away Dabi smirked.

“then take what you need baby,” he said, his voice like soft velvet. You took him in your hand again pumping him while lining him up with your entrance. You never grew tired of the soft ache that accompanied him filling you up. You took a deep breath trying to relax as Dabi tried not to buck his hips as you stretch your self out on his cock.

“you feel so good I missed this,” you moaned digging your nails into his chest. He settled his hands on your hips, ready to try and control your pace.

“I missed you too,” he whispered so quietly you almost couldn't make out the words. It sent a shiver down your spine. You didn't understand why he was being so sweet to you. maybe you had hit his head harder than you originally thought. Your heart insisted that he really did love you but you knew better than to get your hopes up.

You rocked your hips up and down slowly. He cupped your face and brought your mouth back to his as you moved your hips up and down. Dabi really loved your mouth, he loved how soft it was and how well it fit against his, he could die kissing you. Or fucking you for that matter.

You moved your body slowly, moving up his length than sinking back down. Dabi groaned into your mouth when you clenched around him. He slid his hands up your sides feeling your curves before wrapping his large hands around your breasts. He squeezed your soft mounds and rolled your nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

He started rocking his hips up into you as his kiss and his fingers got needier. He couldn't seem to get enough of you. You could feel a tight ball of pleasure building inside your core as you continued to ride him.

“Fuck, Dabi I'm going to cum fuck I'm so close,” you panted speeding up the buck of your hips.

“I'm close, too (y/n), G-gah just like that,” He moaned pushing his hips up into you. He dropped his hand to your pelvic bone fondling your clit as you rode him. Your thrusts faltered as you reached climax. Dabi rocked his hips against yours chancing his own orgasm. You could feel hot spurts of cum fill you as you came down from your high.

You didn't even bother cleaning yourself off you just grabbed one of Dabi's shirts and fell asleep. Beside him. The fight and the sex had both tired you out more than you thought.

That's how Dabi got you here in his arms. He wished he could spend every night like this. With you cuddled into his chest. He closed his eyes pressing his lips to your forehead again.

“Dabi? Are you awake?” you whispered. No, no he wasn't awake for you to persuade him to let you go. You would just have to stay the whole night because he wasn't ready to let you go.

Your lips where so close to his, he could feel the soft puff of your breath hit his chin. “I love you Dabi,” you whispered against his lips. He jerked away to look at you in the darkness.

“What?”

edit: a lot of people wanted a follow-up for this so, here is part two

#mha dabi #dabi x reader #dabi x reader smut #imagine dabi #bnha dabi #my hero academia #my hero acadamy #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia head cannon

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meganshinsou-tm · 4 years

Text

Crimson|Ink. (m)

↳ chapter eleven: seoul

❧ genre: tattoo-shop/hitmen au | tattoo artist/hitman kirishima

❧ fic warning: major character(s) death; happy ending

❧ chapter warnings: piercing session, needles

❧ chapter song: Seoul by RM

♬crimson|ink playlist | ♧ character profiles | artist credit

[multi-chap masterlist] [previous chapter - next chapter]

Kirishima groaned as he stood from his stool, he had just finished an excruciatingly long piece on one of his clients and finally they were done for the day. After cleaning the guy up and bandaging him Kiri gave him aftercare instructions then sent him on his way to the front.

He spent the next few minutes cleaning his tray, taking apart his machine and sanitizing the chair and tray, disposing of his used needles and ink cups. Cracking his neck and knuckles, Kiri set off for the kitchen to get a drink. When he rounded the corner his red eyes fell upon you at the counter, humming and bopping along while you were occupied with something.

Grinning, he walked to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, after taking a sip of it he made his way behind you, hooking his head over your shoulder and cringing immediately.

“What the hell are you doing?”

You smiled and turned your head, looking him in the face. “Uh eating?”

“You know the entire point of pizza rolls is what's inside of them, so why are you squeezing all the shit out? Not to mention it looks disgusting!”

You elbowed him lightly causing him to grunt before placing himself beside you. There was a plate on the counter, full of cooked pizza rolls, the innards of them piled on one side and just the breaded shell of them piling up on the other.

“I’m not squeezing all of it out, just a little. These things are way overstuffed and that shit burns the sides of your mouth when they just explode. It’s called taking precautions!”

“It’s called wasting you weirdo.”

Your (e/c) eyes cut sideways at Kiri, making him smirk. He was soon gifted a middle finger and a friendly “fuck you Eijirou,” to which he just shrugged chuckled.

“Well only if you’re offering.”

A chuckle passed your lips before your teeth playfully tore into a pizza roll and you started to chew it lazily while crossing your eyes and moaning, body slumping over onto Kirishima and becoming like dead weight on him.

“Still wanna take that offer,” you muffled the question.

Kiri knew you were trying to look as idiotic as you could but it was also adorable. You started to eat the small items one by one, dramatically groaning and moaning, falling over the man and causing him to struggle and push you off until he just decided to wrap his arms around you. Kiri chuckled, teeth nipping and trying to steal one of the pizza rolls from your fingers. It got to the point where he was literally fighting you for one out from between your own teeth. Eventually the cheese spewed from the side of it and Kiri won the prize but he decided to rub the food across your cheek and smear its contents.

“Eww Kiri, stop,” you whined and tried to push him away.

Since your day out together, you and Kirishima had pretty much completely started over and were growing closer. He was becoming like one of the other guys to you, more touchy and comfortable, playful and friendly, just more fun to be around.

Of course he had his days sometimes but the good days finally started to outweigh the bad ones. You didn’t dread seeing him every day anymore, wondering what petty insults he’d spew out. Instead of insults the two of you would banter and joke, all in good fun. You were finally growing closer.

After Kiri had made enough of a mess on your face he let go and ate the remainder of the pizza roll still hanging from his teeth.You lightly punched his shoulder and grabbed a napkin to clean up with, feeling the oily substance clogging your skin.

“And you say I’m wasting.”

Kirishima chuckled and drank the rest of his water and tossed the bottle into the trash can. He grabbed a napkin himself and wet it with warm water then stood before you, his hands cupping your face.

“Here, let me help you,” he smiled.

You stood there and let him wipe your face clean, reaching a few pieces that were close to being in your hair and eyes, which were examining his face closely. The sharp edges of his jaw and chin, the plumpness of his lips. How deep the red color of his eyes really were and also that scar on his right one. Your hand came up, fingers lightly tracing it.

“I still find the story about this scar to be extremely funny and adorable.”

An amused look crossed Kiri’s face as he tossed the napkin in the trash can then took your hand that stroked the scarred flesh and lowered it down. He walked to lean back against the counter and you took a spot next to him, both of you crossing your arms and you laughing at the obvious size difference when the muscles in his arms flexed under the sleeves of his raglan shirt and his chest somewhat bulged. You tried your best to size up to him, earning a genuine laugh from Kiri himself. After you relaxed and shrunk back down, Kiri ran a hand through his spiky hair.

“You find me almost blinding myself as a toddler funny and adorable?”

“Okay when you put it like that of course not,” you replied, rolling your eyes with a smile.

Kiri smiled back, always amused to fuck with you, “Having a glass eye would’ve been badass though.”

“I guess it would be pretty hot, but I like your red eyes, so if it means anything, I’m glad you only got away with a scar.”

“Well aren’t you sweet,” Kiri cooed and looked at you with a grin.

Rolling your eyes again you lightly flicked his forehead and passed him to go to the fridge and got a bottle of water. After unscrewing the lid and taking a sip you wiped your mouth and stood before the red-head, a finger poking his chest.

“Eijirou, I’m always sweet, what are you talking about.”

“You’re like a damn sour patch kid little one,” he grinned and grabbed your hand, encasing it in his massive one and pulling you forward, “One minute you’re sweet yeah, but then you can turn sour, it may be hours later but it happens.”

Your head shook and your lips pouted, “Why I’d never,” you replied.

“Bullshit, I can see your horns showing right about -”

Not a second after the word left his mouth your hand holding the water bottle was coming up to be pressed to his neck, Kiri was fast though and grabbed your wrist before the ice cold bottle could touch his skin. His tongue clicked as he shook his head at you and you giggled.

“My point exactly you little fucking demon.”

“Pft, you act like I’m the only one with horns here, ” you chuckled and brought your free hand up to tousle one of Kiri’s spiked up horns, soon his other hand was gripping that wrist as well.

You gasped at the ferocity of his hold and the intense gaze he held. Your own eyes couldn’t leave his sharp crimson red ones. Suddenly you were now the one leaning back against the counter, the massive tattooed red-head standing before you, small wrists still tightly gripped in his giant hands. You swallowed nervously feeling how his aura changed drastically from playful to now predatory. Kirishima could tell how you were shrinking beneath him, not so playful anymore.

“Oh I’m completely aware of my own little one, and of how much bigger they are than yours,” he chuckled, the sound bringing a light to your eyes and coaxing out the girl inside of you that always loved to meet a challenge no matter what.

You hummed in reply, (e/c) eyes sharpening at Kiri and the tip of your tongue rolling between your canines as you smiled sinfully at him. Going to jerk your wrists from him once more, Kiri only tightened his grip but you pulled with so much force it brought him face to face with you, the tips of your noses brushing as you breathed upon each others mouths. He was right where you wanted him though. One of you were going to crack and it was going to be him.

“Scared Potter?” You questioned in a terrible British accent.

“Shut it Malfoy,” Kiri replied with a flawless British accent and smug look.

The two of you stared silently for a second before falling out into hysterics, laughing, snorting and cackling together. Tears were pricking your eyes and Kiri’s face fell to the crook of your neck as he tried to hide his own. He had let go of one of your wrists and casually your hand slid down his palm until his fingers clasped around it, holding it gently in his own.

It was the polar opposite of how he held your wrists. Instead of rough and fierce it was soft and tender, like there was a distinctly different way he needed to touch the two different areas. You smiled and his head pulled away from your neck. Kirishima looked down on you, freeing your other wrist so he could wipe the joyful tears from the corner of your eye. With a hum you melted into his hand.

The man wanted to verbally awe at how sweet and cute you were, your long lashes fluttering shut and your cheek nuzzling his palm that easily cupped the entire side of your face.

“You know you got that sour patch thing wrong Ei. Don’t you know your slogans, ‘first they’re sour then they’re sweet’,” you chuckled and the lids of your eyes opened slowly.

“I guess I did,” Kirishima replied almost mindlessly, letting his hand caress from your face and into your hair.

This wasn’t the first time Kiri had been caught up in you. Ever since making up, more and more he found himself slipping, letting you lure him in with those damned eyes, that sweet voice and spitfire attitude. He couldn’t say it out loud, not yet at least, but you were so perfect - perfect for him.

Through the weeks when he’d feel anxious or fed up with a client or sketch that wasn’t coming along, it was like you could sense his energy and just appear in his room to take his mind off things. Sometimes you’d waltz in wanting him to teach you drawing techniques or just to whine to him about how Sero and Bakugou were teasing you.

You calmed him. Especially on days after he’d come back from being an executioner. Even before you came along, on those days Kiri would always be in a mood, sometimes still high on the smell of blood and the adrenaline coursing through his veins. It felt like he was an animal, trying to shake it off while the inner beast craved for more. On those days he wouldn’t take customers, just shack up in his studio and draw. Now, on those days you’d find him, and just the sound of your voice calling out his name or your hand touching him would immediately put that beast to sleep like you were some kind of tamer - his tamer.

Without another thought Kirishima was bringing his face closer to yours, you looked unafraid, in fact it's like you were waiting for him. Your free hand came up, cupping his own that held your face and you breathed out his name in that soft and airy way that always made him melt.

“Shit, am I interrupting something?”

Kiri’s sharp red eyes glanced sideways to see Bakugou standing at the end of the counter he had you pressed against, your body went limp, a quiet whimper leaving your lips and tugging at his heart. Maybe the intrusion was for the best though. Slowly Kiri lowered your hand and his, but he wasn’t going to leave you hanging without some sort of kiss. With a soft smile he pressed a tender peck on your forehead, you hummed with content and smiled as he pulled back away.

“Alright princess, my turn,” Bakugou sneered playfully before grabbing your wrist himself and pulling you towards him roughly.

Kirishima rolled his eyes at the blonde who started to slather your cheek with playful nips and pecs, making you giggle and push away.

“Down boy, down!”

Chuckling, Bakugou calmed and released you so he could get himself a drink. Kirishima plopped down in one of the chairs by the table and asked what he was up to, to which he shrugged and sighed.

“Well I was going to see if y’all wanted to go ahead and close up. I’m about to blow my brains out with how fucking dead it’s been all day.”

You started to clean up your plate of pizza rolls and checked the time on the microwaves clock.

“Katsu, it’s only like six, we don’t close until ten on weekends.”

“We can close whenever we want to princess. Plus, there’s no point in just sitting on our asses.”

Kirishima huffed and crossed his arms behind his head, leaning back in his seat and letting his giant legs stretch out. “May be dead for you, I just got done with a four hour piece. Did you ever think that maybe people just don’t want to come see you Bakugou?”

“Fuck you shitty hair,” Bakugou snarled, crossing his arms and glancing over at you minding your own business. He grinned and clicked his teeth, tilting his head in your direction. “I know someone who does though.”

Your brow rose and you looked over to the blonde before pointing to yourself.

“Me?”

Bakugou chuckled and slid closer, “Yes you princess. Didn’t you want a piercing a few weeks ago? On that pretty little face.”

“I did! What were the ones you suggested again?”

He smirked and brought a hand up to cup your chin, his thumb ran over the plump flesh of your bottom lip then across the your cupid’s bow. Kiri’s red eyes narrowed while he watched Bakugou touching your lips, the same lips he should’ve been ravaging right now had he let himself go wild.

“I suggested a little monroe, right here,” Bakugou replied and poked right above your top lip, “And a nose piercing but like I said, your face is too fucking pretty do much more than that.”

“Oh yeah, well I think the monroe is really cute. I just don’t think I want a nose piercing though, and I don’t want a cliche belly button piercing either.”

You thought for a bit longer and Kiri watched closely, Bakugou shrugged and took a drink of his water. Your fingers snapped and you beamed.

“My nipples!”

Bakugou spit out his water, at the same time him and Kirishima both let out a shocked, “What?”

“You heard me! I want my nipples pierced! I think they look pretty good on some girls and with my quirk I won’t have to suffer for months, waiting on them to heal.”

Kiri shook his head and stood from his seat, “What’s with you and always wanting something that requires you to be practically topless huh?”

“I’m confident in my skin Kiri, there’s no shame in that.”

“Yeah Red, stop body shaming our girl here, if she wants to pierce her tits then let her pierce her tits!”

Kirishima glared at Bakugou.

“Shut the fuck up, I know what you’re doing!” The red head looked at you, his eyes pleading, “Look if that’s what you want then go for it, but maybe I can take you to another place?”

“Ei, why would I go anywhere else when we have one of the best of the best right here. Plus, I trust Katsuki.”

The blonde gave Kiri a shit eating grin from behind you, soon his arms were around your waist and his head was hooked over your shoulder and he pressed a kiss to your jaw.

“Yeah Ei, she trusts me. You shouldn’t want anyone else doing this for her anyway. I’d fucking murder someone before I let her go to another place.”

“See, he’s got my back Eijirou, I’ll be fine.”

Kiri groaned and went to try and plead more but you were quickly dragging Bakugou by the hand out of the kitchen and to his studio. The blonde flipping Kirishima off and sticking out his tongue. With a growl Kiri took off after you, following into the studio.

“This will be fun and I’ll have some new work to show off to the guys!”

“You’re not going to be flashing your shit around here,” Kirishima sternly stated.

You chuckled and took a seat on the piercing chair. Kiri followed like a puppy, right by your side and not looking to leave. Your hand grabbed his own and you smiled.

“I was talking about my lip piercing. Don’t worry Ei, the others will be just between me and certain special people.”

“Me, I’m special people!” Bakugou grinned as he pulled out all the tools needed.

Needles, jewelry, napkins, gloves, a marker, alcohol pads, etc. Bakugou mentioned he’d do the lip piercing first since it wouldn’t take long and was the easiest.

You sat and let him disinfect your upper lip. His face extremely close to your own as he used a marker and carefully marked the perfect spot to place the piercing. You turned to look at Kiri, asking his opinion. Shortly he smiled and nodded, saying that it looked perfect. Your small hand squeezed his and you turned to look at Bakugou again.

“These will be cold,” he mentioned and held up some small clamps.

Using them, he took your lip between them, causing you to gasp. The marked spot was easily visible through the hole of the clamps and they securely held your lip still. His other hand reached over to his tray and grabbed the piercing needle, placing the tip of it right on the inside of your lip. Your eyes crossed as you tried to look down at the clamps. Bakugou had to stifle down a chuckle from how dumb you looked.

“Okay, you’re gonna feel a pinch but it won’t last long. Take a deep breathe in and - “

Right on cue with your exhale Bakugou pushed the needle through the flesh, your eyes blinked and hand squeezed Kiri’s again at the pinch the blonde mentioned and you hissed but the discomfort was extremely short lived.

You watched Bakugou smile proudly and praise you with a, “good girl.”

He threaded the end of the jewelry on the end of the needle then pushed it all the way through, placing the used tool on his tray and grabbing the studded top of the jewelry and twisting it on top of the piece he was holding in your lip. The process was over as fast as it had begun. Bakugou grabbed a napkin and dabbed the small amount of blood clean before he stood back and grabbed a small mirror.

“Take a look princess.”

You grabbed the mirror and smiled upon seeing the shimmering stud placed perfectly above your top lip, resembling a much more extravagant beauty mark.

“Aww, it’s so cute Katsu!”

After handing the mirror back you quickly healed the piercing and wiggled your lips around and giggled at the weird sensation of metal in your mouth. Looking sideways your eyes were seeking approval from the Kirishima.

Kiri smirked and poked at the piercing, “It suits you little one ... alright that’s it. Let’s close the shop now!”

“Eijirou,” you giggled and whined as he tried to tug you out of the chair.

Kirishima sighed defeatedly, “Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes I’m sure. What, do you think they won’t look good on me or something?”

Red eyes rolled and Kirishima tried his hardest not to even vividly picture what you’d look like with those sinful piercings or the things he’d crave to do.

“That’s not it at all, they’ll look great. It’s just ... they’re a lot more painful than what you just got.”

“Hey shit for brains, stop trying to scare her. I know what I’m doing, I’ve pierced plenty of tits in my career. Look princess, do you want this?”

You looked at Bakugou and nodded eagerly without even thinking.

“Alright, then get your sweet ass up and go strip for me.”

Kirishima glared at Bakugou and if looks could kill the blonde would be way past dead.

Your body hopped down from the piercing chair and you pat Kiri’s chest as you walked by him, Bakugou playfully smacked your ass moving you along towards the divider that was located in the corner of the room without another word.

The two men stared at each other, Bakugou with the smuggest of smug looks and Kiri seething with envy.

“You’re fucking enjoying this aren’t you,” Kiri growled.

“Oh you have no idea, now if you’d kindly leave, you know shop policy Red. These types of piercings are private.”

Kirishima looked over to the divider you were standing behind, his jaw clenching at the thought of what was about to happen. He didn’t not want you to get the piercings, he just didn’t want you to get them from Bakugou.

His friend was very cunning and the two of you already flirted way more than you and he did. In fact the two of you were way more touchy and sexual in your interactions. This situation would only rile Bakugou up even more, Kiri knew it but then again he had no control over you, no claim to you.

You were free to act on your own accord. It was times like these where Kirishima would second guess his actions and be more inclined to finally just put aside his stupid ways and confess his feelings, if it meant having you to himself and only him. But if he did that right now it would partly be for the wrong reasons.

Finally Kirishima decided he’d confess to you, but in due time.

To do it out of spite or sheer jealousy would be ignorant. You were both in a good place with each other now, sometimes taking things slowly was for the best. Kirishima wanted you, more than he fucking wanted life itself, but he had already fucked up too much and he was trying not to do it all over again, plus you still needed to know about the beast he kept caged until a certain phone call would release it.

With a sigh he shoved Bakugou out of his way and slowly stormed out of the room without a word, closing the door shut behind him.

Your head poked out from behind the divider at the sound, eyes looking at the door then to Bakugou who was gathering all the utensils and tools needed for your next piercing. Your lips jutted out in a pout briefly at Kiri’s disappearance before you sighed and crossed your arms over your chest, walking out from behind the divider and back to the piercing seat.

Bakugou turned his head to glance at you from his peripheral and smiled. He glanced back at his utensils and went about explaining the process to you. How all his tools were extremely and thoroughly sterilized. His hands held up two separately packed needles, one for each breast, a packaged set of clamps, and two barbells for the jewelry. There was also a type of jelly the needles would be dipped in the ease the process and a shorter set of barbell jewelry.

“These are longer than usual ones but its to allow room for swelling, but after you’ve healed yourself I can replace them with normal length ones. Of course, it being a piercing, it’s going to be uncomfortable but trust me it’s not unbearable. Do you have any other questions before we get started?”

You nervously chuckled, arms still crossed over your chest and a hand reaching to scratch the side of your neck. “Uh - do they have to be ... h-hard?”

Bakugou smirked, watching your face blush red from the question.

Usually you were a raging ball of witty sexual remarks, confident and not in the least bit bashful. This look though was appealing to the blonde. He shrugged his shoulders and clicked his tongue as he picked up the package with the clamps in it.

“Nah princess, that's what these are for. They hold the nipple in place, they aren’t the most comfortable thing and they’re probably the most painful part of the process but they help as a guide for the needle.”

You seemed to deflate with a sigh and nodded.

“But if you really wanted me to, I could tease them for you, free of charge.”

You chuckled and went to playfully kick at the cocky man, but he caught your ankle and tugged harshly, pulling your body down the chair and making your back come into contact with it. You gasped when he was suddenly before you and between your legs, all at once you were reclined back at an angle and almost shell shocked from your mind trying to catch up. Red eyes glared intently at you, full of fire and pride.

“Or do you want to do that for me yourself?”

“You fucking wish Katsuki,” you grinned underneath him.

Bakugou’s face lowered and his nose brushed along your cheek as his warm breath fanned your ear before his teeth nipped at it. A low chuckle left his lips and it caused a shudder to ripple through you.

“You fucking bet I do. I still haven’t had my fun with you yet princess, you said to name a time and place right?”

“Katsu,” you breathed out through gritted teeth, his own dragging down your cheek to take hold of it. Your eyes glazed over and stared into his own.

“Hmm,” he grunted and released your flesh then let his tongue lightly lap at the teeth marks, his hand squeezing your thigh. “What if I said right now, right here? Make a filthy little mess of you on my chair.”

You started to breathe heavily, Bakugou’s hand on your thigh traveling up. Slowly your arms started to uncross and fall to your sides, hands gripping at the leather of the chair. Bakugou looked down at your bare chest now littered with black ink, a wicked smile crossing his handsome face. A breathy ‘fuck’ left his lips and his head lowered slowly and you screwed your eyes shut.

There was a fire building low in your gut, skin hypersensitive and thoughts nothing but mush. Out of nowhere something extremely cold was wiped across one of your nipples, causing you to flinch and all arousal immediately disappear.

“What the fucking hell Bakugou!”

“Oh I’m sorry princess, were you expecting something else,” he chuckled as you looked down to see him wiping a now warm alcohol pad across your sensitive bud.

“Fuck you,” you rolled your eyes, head falling back against the chair.

“All good things come to those who wait, don’t worry, I’ll fuck you sooner than later. But for now, let me do my job and make these pretty things even better!”

Kiri sat impatiently in the kitchen, a hardened finger carving a small line into the table from constantly moving it back and forth while waiting for your piercing session to be over.

A few more minutes and he was jumping up from his chair when he heard the door down the hall opening, your precious giggle echoing down and into the kitchen. Soon you stood before him, a smile on your face that now gleamed even more from the jewelry that adorned your top lip. Kirishima smiled back and you walked closer to stand before him.

His hand cupped your cheek, relief washing over him to see you were free from any telling marks and free from the studio room period.

“You heal yourself?”

You nodded with a grin and grabbed at your breasts to squeeze lightly, “I’m all good Ei, feels perfectly normal and pain free. Well - I mean it doesn’t feel normal anymore, it’s a different feeling but you get what I’m saying.”

The red head chuckled, his thumb nudging at the piercing on your face. “I really do like this one, it’s cute.”

“Thanks Eijirou, I’m really glad you like it. Play your cards right and maybe one day you can see the others.”

Kirishima went to reply but soon Bakugou was beating him to the punch and yelling out your name from down the hall. You both looked to see his spiky blonde head peeking out from the doorway of his room.

“Remember I told you we’d go out when we got back from that deal?”

There was a light in your eye, body turning to face away from Kiri and to Bakugou.

“Yeah, why?”

“What do you say we go to the club tonight?”

Kiri silently groaned behind you, nostrils flaring. It was like he couldn’t get a fucking break today. Bakugou grinned smugly at his friend, knowing he had been cock blocking him at almost every corner. You nodded at Bakugou then turned back around to Kiri and took his hand.

“You’ll come to right? We can all go out together!”

It felt as if the heavens had opened up and an angel was finally giving Kirishima an opening, a break! That angel being you with that perfect smile and those pleading eyes, pleading for him.

Kirishima smirked and looked up at Bakugou who was just shaking his head, smile still on his face and not even phased that you were including everyone else.

Fingers came up to cup your chin, looking up, red eyes looked back down and a sweet peck was pressed to your cheek before a sharp toothed grin sparkled.

“Of course little one, whatever you want.”

#crimson ink #tattoo shop au #hitmen au #eijirou x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader #enemies to lovers #slow burn #bnha writing blog #mha writing blog

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hopeisour4letteredword · 4 years

Text

look through your textbook (cause i’m history) ch2

Content warnings: implied/referenced domestic violence

Summary: After dropping out, Yuri’s life is a haze of working and trying not to lose his damn mind. Then he meets Estelle.

Read it here or check the notes for the link to AO3.

Estelle spends a whole morning huddled down in front of Yuri’s clunky old laptop. He doesn’t have internet at his apartment right now, so they bring it over to the community center. Hanks helps her for a while, but soon the morning crowd trickles in, and duty calls him away. Yuri is banned from helping, on the grounds that he has no business advising anyone on how to interact with the police. He wishes he could do something for her, aside from repeatedly confirm that yes, he’ll be a block away the whole time; yes, she can still stay with him afterwards; yes, he will break into the station and whisk her away to safety if the police try any bullshit.

“I thought I told you to get away from her and not give any advice,” Hanks says, smacking Yuri away from Estelle’s side with the soft end of a broom.

“It’s not advice,” Yuri protests. “It’s reassurance.”

"Do n’t you listen to a damn thing that boy tells you,” Hanks tells Estelle, sternly. Estelle smiles nervously at both of them, eyes crinkled up despite the dark bags underneath them. She didn’t sleep much last night, according to Yuri’s creaky old box springs. That or nightmares, the way she was tossing and turning. It doesn’t make a difference which it was, really. “Keep doing what you’re doing.”

What she’s doing is reading a lot of advice blogs and mumbling to herself about her rights. Just watching her raises the metaphorical hackles of Yuri’s protective instincts. Hanks has a point, though. The less Yuri is involved, the better. He keeps himself busy in the kitchen for the rest of the morning. At least he can be sure the chicken stock won’t try to coerce Estelle into returning to an abusive household.

After lunch, they pack up Yuri’s laptop and get ready to go. Hanks unexpectedly flags them down before they make it out the door.

“Be careful, you two. Yuri, you’re on your best God damned behavior, you hear me?”

“Sir yes sir,” Yuri says, dryly.

“Young lady, you take this.”

“Huh?” Estelle fumbles with the solid object he drops into her hands. “Your—your phone? But—“

“I turned off the password lock,” Hanks says. “And Yuri’s name is plainly labeled in the contacts. That should stop him getting antsy and bursting in because he thinks it’s taking too long. I imagine it’ll make you feel a smidge better, too.”

“Thanks, Hanks,” Yuri says. He doesn’t have the heart to brush this one off. It really does make him feel a fuck of a lot better to know Estelle will be able to reach him even if she can’t get out of the building.

“Mind you, I want that back, of course,” Hanks says, patting Estelle on the shoulder. She clutches the phone to her chest, wide-eyed.

“Thank you so much...!”

Yuri flippantly salutes Hanks, reaching for the door. “Alright, boss, I’m clocking out for now.”

“No, you aren’t; community escorts are on the clock. Same as it would be if you were taking her to a clinic. Don’t argue with me, son. You need to pay for that gas somehow. Get a move on.”

“A clinic?” Estelle asks, as Yuri shepherds her out the door and into his car.

“Planned Parenthood, usually,” Yuri says. He turns the key and the car rumbles angrily at him, put out that he continues to expect it to function. He gives the dashboard a consoling pat. “Or other reproductive health clinics. Anywhere you can get an ob-gyn. Family planning services. You get the picture.”

“I think I do.” Estelle endearingly turns with Yuri to check behind the car as they reverse, then pull out of the parking lot. Even his shitty car seems to be a novelty to her sometimes. “You do an awful lot for the community center, don’t you?”

“Mm. Yeah. No more than they’ve done for me, though.”

There’s a moment of silence where Estelle fidgets with the sleeve cuffs of Hanks’s jacket. Yuri keeps an eye on her in the corner of his vision, but he can’t get a very good look at her expression. He needs to focus on the road. The last thing they need right now is for him to break a traffic law or cause an accident and get pulled over.

“Can... can you keep talking?”

“Sure. Any requests?”

“Ah... tell me a story about you and Flynn?”

Yuri ends up telling her the story of Repede’s blind eye. It’s not too gruesome if he plays it right, and he’s got a bit of practice at that from curious kids at the center. Yuri was her age at the time—God, that was a weird thought—and he’d been new to dog-ownership. Repede broke out of the hovel he and Flynn called an apartment overnight. After hours of searching in the dark, Hanks had hauled them both inside by their ears and forced them to rest. Repede turned up on the doorstep the next morning, face horribly scratched and howling for all his tiny little lungs were worth. Yuri was terrified to so much as wipe him off, in case he made the wound worse. All he could do was bundle Repede up in the cleanest towel he could find. He didn’t have the car yet, so Hanks called them a cab and Flynn, stuttering with panic, had asked to be taken to the vet their Coach used to take Repede and Lambert to.

“So you’ve got these two scruffy, sleep-deprived teenage boys obviously losing our minds while trying to keep a grip on this bloody puppy that was just—I know it sounds wrong, for a dog, but really the only way to describe it is screaming,” Yuri says. He flicks his turn signal on. They’re getting close to the police station. “And the poor receptionist was trying to ask for Repede’s info, but we didn’t know what to tell her, because we hadn’t taken Repede to the vet before—don’t look at me like that, we’d only had him two months or something, it’s not like we skipped out—and all the sudden the vet comes out to see what all the noise is about, and he takes one look at us and he goes, ‘that’s Lambert’s pup.’”

“Lambert?”

“Repede’s dad. He was our fencing coach’s dog. Apparently the vet worked with Coach at ZU back in the day, although we didn’t know that until later. Anyway, he whisked Repede into the back and told us to wait in the lobby, ‘cause it wasn’t going to be pretty. I was flipping my shit, because, you know, we’d only been taking care of Repede for a little while, and the wound looked so bad I had convinced myself he was going to die.”

“Oh, Yuri.”

“I was also running on like two hours of sleep at the time, which may have contributed. Anyway, Flynn had to sit there for like an hour, literally holding my hand, telling me that Repede was going to be fine and everything would be okay. He was freaking out too, but he still babysat me while I lost my min d . It was fucking heroic. And we were covered in blood that whole time. I mean, the receptionist took us to a sink where we could clean up a little bit, but some shit is just there to stay unless you change clothes.”

“Ew.”

“Uh-huh. But after a while the vet popped back out and he was like, ‘your dog is fine, come see him.’ They had knocked him out and stitched him up all pretty. Funny in retrospect—I wish I had a picture. Repede was boneless. Puppy puddle.”

“Maybe Flynn has a picture?”

“I don’t think so. We were both too busy being relieved.” Yuri pulls over in front of the police station. Estelle is a rigid line of tension in the passenger seat. “Alright, princess. You’ll just have to get this over with and hurry back out to get the rest of the story.”

Estelle’s lower lip wobbles. “You’ll have your phone on the whole time?”

“Max volume. Texts and calls.”

“And I don’t have to go back. I can—I can still stay with you.”

“Long as you need.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“You’re gonna be A-okay,” Yuri says, firmly, “Just like Repede was. Look, you’ve got the beat-up face and everything. You have to be okay. It’s just cinematic parallels at this point.”

Estelle smiles, even though it doesn’t reach her eyes, as she clicks open the car door. “Where are you going to be parked?”

“You see over at that corner?” Yuri points down the block, through the windshield. “I’ll be at that convenience store. I’ll go in and buy a snack at some point so they can’t boot me out, since I’m a paying customer.”

“I’ll come find you when I’m done.”

“Sure thing.” Yuri holds his hand up to her. She stares at it blankly. “What? Come on. High five for good luck.”

Estelle slowly presses her palm against his and holds it there for a beat, looking at him dubiously. Yuri snorts.

“Okay, we’ll work on that one later.”

“Is this not—?”

“Nope, nuh-uh, this is a problem for post-police Estelle. Out you get.”

She puts Hanks’s phone into her pocket and slides out of the car. She gives Yuri another halfhearted smile as she closes the door, mouthing bye through the window. See you, Yuri mouths back. He doesn’t pull away from the curb until she’s all the way inside. When he does, he’s muttering curses under his breath.

Dammit. She’s going to be fine. Cinematic parallels. Estelle is a smart cookie, and she spent all morning preparing. She has Hanks’s phone. She’s a legal adult.

Yuri wishes he had brought Repede along. But there was a toddler read-along today at the community center, and Repede likes to lounge on the carpet between all the kids, soaking up their attention while he naps. It’s not like there’s anyplace close to the station where Yuri could be exercising with him, which is the only way he could justify it. If Repede isn’t getting a workout either way, he might as well do the one he likes better. Yuri’s the human here. He can suck it up.

He pulls into the lot of the convenience store and cranks the parking brake into place with more force than necessary. His forehead thuds against the top of the steering wheel, well away from the horn. Maybe he shouldn’t have told Estelle a Flynn story. Now he just fucking misses Flynn. He always does, has for the last few years, but now it’s sharp and immediate. He misses knowing that Flynn could take Repede out between classes when Yuri was too busy. He misses having his best friend there to tell him shit’s going to be alright. He misses Flynn being able to cheer him up just by being there, misses Flynn helping him do school shit even if it was too simple for him when it was stupidly hard for Yuri.

The problem is that it’s so easy to talk to Estelle about Flynn. Everybody at the community center drives him up the freaking wall treading on eggshells about it. They’re always watching him when Flynn comes up in conversation, waiting for him to snap and get mad. They only know scattered fragments of why Yuri and Flynn aren’t the same unit they used to be, but they know enough to be wary of bringing it up. Estelle, though. Estelle doesn’t know any of it. It’s bizarre to Yuri. They nearly physically fought the last time they saw each other, and Flynn told Estelle that Yuri is his best friend. Estelle will go, one time Flynn—and Yuri can go, yeah, that’s Flynn alright, did he tell you about this other time? And there’s no secret second conversation about whether Yuri’s about to go completely unhinged. It makes him run his mouth more than he should. He didn’t even tell Hanks that Flynn held his hand in the vet lobby while Repede had surgery. He doesn’t think anybody but Raven knows about that, if Raven even remembers.

If he doesn’t get a grip, Estelle is going to figure out a lot more about how he feels about Flynn than he wants her to. She��s not an idiot. Worse, she’s a romantic. She’ll connect the dots.

...Now he’s worrying about Estelle and missing Flynn and kicking himself over his shitty feelings again. Great. Fantastic. This afternoon is going just swell.

Yuri lets himself out of the damn car and goes into the convenience store to buy chocolate or something. He needs it.

Yuri is used to his friends just opening the door and hopping back in the car, so when Estelle taps on the window, he jumps about a foot in the air and almost hits his head.

“Sorry,” Estelle says, cracking the door open to peer in at him. “Can I—?”

“Yeah, get in,” Yuri says. She climbs into her seat and draws her knees up so she can wrap her arms around them, and takes a deep, shuddering breath. Yuri watches her for a moment, then reaches past her to get into the glove compartment. “Hey. Here. Got you something.”

“Huh?” Estelle sniffles a little. Her eyes go big when she sees what Yuri is offering her. “Oh, you didn’t have to—“

“It’s convenience store chocolate,” Yuri says. He pokes her in the arm with it until she frees a hand to take it from him. “Not exactly a crazy luxury gift. I got the receipt if you want a different flavor, though.”

“No, this is good,” Estelle mumbles. She unwraps it, sniffling some more. “’M—‘m sorry. I know c-crying makes you uncomfortable.”

“That’s my problem. You worry about yourself.” Yuri crosses his arms, leaning back in his seat to watch her. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Th-they wanted me to go back.” She scrubs at her eyes. “I knew they would. It’s okay. I expected it. You were right, they couldn’t force me to do anything because I’m eighteen.”

“Still shitty, though.”

“Y-yeah.”

“They give you any other problems?”

“I had to argue with them about n-not telling my guardian where I was staying. But they said they would officially delist me as missing. That’s what—what matters.”

Yuri nods, slowly. “You just tell me if there’s anyone I should be running off the property if I catch them near the apartment, alright?”

“Ah. Okay.” She nibbles at the chocolate. “...Will you, um, tell me the rest of the story about Repede?”

“Sure. Lemme pull out first.” When they’re both seat-belted and Yuri has managed to exit the parking lot without running anyone over, he drums his fingers against the steering wheel. “Where was I?”

“P-puppy puddle.”

Yuri huffs out a laugh. “That’s right. Poor Repede. Raven—that’s our vet—he gave us a bunch of antibiotics to give Repede, and talked us through what to expect during Repede’s recovery until he woke up. Once he was conscious they got the cone of shame on him. Only time he’s ever needed one, while we had him. Think he had one when he got fixed, too, but that was before we took him in.”

Estelle giggles wetly. “P-poor thing. Borzoi pups are all—all skinny, aren’t they? He must’ve been falling over with the heavy cone on his head.”

“God, you would think so, but Repede was a big boy when he was a puppy. Solid chunk of dog. He was like that even when Coach had him, so it wasn’t our fault for overfeeding him or anything . Probably the German Shepherd blood. They’re a little thicker than Borzoi pups. I definitely do have pictures of puppy Repede, I’ll find them for you when I get home from work tonight.” Yuri sifts through the memories and snorts fondly. “Didn’t help much with the cone, though. I don’t think losing one of his eyes was doing him any favors either. The first few nights after the surgery were terrible. He would wake up and try to get some kibble or water, and he’d knock over damn near everything in the apartment, so of course that would wake us up, too. Even if we managed to sleep through that, he would get frustrated and start crying. ”

“But you were already so tired!”

“Like I said, rough couple of nights. We ended up having to coordinate a schedule of who got up to deal with it at what times on what nights. Hanks kept telling us it was a practice run for having kids someday.”

Estelle cocks her head, more alert. “Kids? For you two, together? Flynn didn’t tell me—”

“No.” Yuri grips the steering wheel tighter and prays his cheeks aren’t red. “No, not together. Just in general. It was a bad joke either way—I’d make a crummy dad .”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“You’re very nice to say so, but you’re also very wrong.”

Estelle gives him a thoughtful look. Yuri hurries on with the story.

“Anyway, giving him the antibiotics was probably the worst part. Raven gave them to us in a syringe at first, to squirt into his mouth, but Repede would lose his mind when we tried to open his mouth to give it to him. It was hard to hold his head still without aggravating the wound. So we tried switching to pill form and mixing them into his food, but the little brat would just pick them out and we’d find a little pile of them in his empty bowl after he ate.”

“What did you do?”

Yuri grins nostalgically. “Wrapped ‘em in bits of deli turkey.”

“Yuri!”

“Yeah, Flynn yelled at me too. He damn near killed me the first time I did it. Still, it was the only thing that worked, and we were too exhausted to fight over it. Repede would be so excited to eat the turkey, he wouldn’t realize there was a pill until it was too late. Flynn did get to say ‘I told you so’ a lot afterwards, though, because I’ve never been able to keep deli turkey in the house since. Repede is convinced it’s for him.”

“Can’t you just keep it away from him?”

“Nope. He’s a dog on a mission.”

Estelle smiles, small but real. Some of the tension has left her posture. Good.

“That whole ordeal is probably why Repede hates the vet, now, anyway,” Yuri says. He mentally plots their route back to the community center. He should have enough time before bartending to drop Estelle off and take Repede for a run.

“Maybe if you switched vets...?”

“Nah—I don’t think it’s just Raven, since he’s not very happy to see any of the vet techs, either. I guess it could be the location itself. Best vet within a convenient distance, though—if you ever meet Raven, don’t tell him I said that, okay? He’d be fucking insufferable about it. But he did us... a lot of favors, back then. Had to guide me through a lot of stupid first-time dog-owner stuff. Least I can do is give him my business.”

Estelle’s been looking out the passenger-side window, but now her head lolls against the headrest to face Yuri. “Hey, Yuri?”

“Hm?”

“Why do you talk about Repede like he was yours and Flynn’s when he was a puppy, but just yours now?”

“...Flynn’s pretty busy with school these days.” Too busy to be wasting time on some stupid drop-out. “I’ve got more free time, so I took Repede. He hasn’t seen Flynn in a long time. I don’t know if he would remember Flynn now.”

“You don’t have very much free time at all, though.”

Yuri cocks a smile with as much conviction as he can muster. “Yeah, because I’ve filled it all with Repede. It doesn’t really look like free time any more. It just looks like Repede time.”

Estelle is quiet for a moment. Just when Yuri starts to hope that she’ll drop it, she says, “You miss him.”

Yuri brakes maybe a little too sharply at a stop sign. Their seatbelts snap taught. Estelle yelps.

“Sorry,” Yuri mutters. “Noticed the sign a little late. Miss who, Repede? It’s true, I do miss Repede when I have to leave him for more than five minutes— ”

“Flynn. You miss Flynn, don’t you?”

Yuri tries to fast forward through all the different ways this conversation could play out in his head. What’s the answer least likely to swamp him with a discussion of his feelings and his current relationship with Flynn? If he tries to say no, Estelle might tell him why she thought he did, and he doesn’t want to deal with that kind of self-awareness. The truth is probably safer. “...Yeah.”

“Why don’t you call him?”

“He got a new number at some point since I last saw him in person.”

“Wh—oh.” Estelle frowns a bit. “I think I remember when that happened. He didn’t give you the new number?”

“Nope. Probably didn’t have mine memorized, or something.” Or he just figured it was as good an excuse as any to move on to better social circles, and leave the squalor of his past behind. That’s what Yuri’s been betting on.

At least, it was until Estelle showe d up and started saying weird shit about how Flynn still talks about him.

“I could give you his new number!”

Somehow, that catches Yuri completely off guard. He glances over at her. “You have his number memorized? Wow, princess. I didn’t realize you were that into him.”

“I’m—“ Estelle splutters at him, red-faced. Yuri grins despite himself as he turns back to the road. “I am not! It’s not like that! I forgot I didn’t have my phone—”

“Uh-huh. I’ll start working on my speech for your wedding.”

“Yuri! I don’t like him that way! And that’s not even—Flynn doesn’t even like g—“

Girls. Estelle slaps a hand over her own mouth before the rest of the word can slip out. She looks at Yuri, wide-eyed and pink-cheeked. Yuri considers messing with her some more, but decides to have some pity.

“Relax. I already knew Flynn was gay. I’m just screwing around.”

“Oh, good,” Estelle breathes, slumping back in her seat.

“Anyway, speaking of your phone, maybe we should figure out a plan to rescue some of your shit.”

Estelle wrings her hands. “...I don’t know. I don’t think there’s a good way to get into my old home without having to talk to...”

“ Don’t you worry,” Yuri says, cheerfully. He was just trying to find a way to divert the conversation away from Flynn, but he’s quickly warming to the idea. He doesn’t have bartending too late tonight. “I’ll take care of that. Just wait and see. You didn’t have any plans for tonight, did you?”

“This is illegal!” Estelle hisses. Yuri, halfway through the action of pulling himself over a brick wall, gives her an incredulous look. She’s been trying to dissuade him since they came within a few blocks of the property. Apparently Estelle is willing to stand up when people try to steamroll past her. She just picks her battles.

“How? I’m pretty sure you technically still live here, legally.”

“It’s still breaking and entering! And theft! ”

“Oh, wah wah wah. It’s not like we’re really stealing. It’s all your stuff.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works!”

Yuri snorts and pulls himself the rest of the way up, perched on the top. “Are you coming, or do you want to wait here?”

“I—I don’t want to start my new life with a criminal record!”

“So wait.”

“Yuri!”

“Relax, I’ve got this under control. Which floor is your room on?”

Estelle makes a high-pitched sound of aggravation and tries to scramble up the wall after him. She almost topples back down halfway up, and Yuri has to reach down to haul her up by the collar of Hanks’s jacket. The jitters probably aren’t doing her coordination any favors.

“What happened to not wanting a criminal record?”

“If I come with you so you know where to go, everything will be faster, and we can be done and leave sooner.”

“You can tell me where to go from here, you don’t have to be involved.”

Estelle gives him a sulky, anxious look. “I don’t want to—to just wait alone in the dark. What if someone comes by?”

“Hide in a bush.”

“Flynn and Hanks were right, you are a troublemaker.”

“I can’t tell you how flattered and alarmed I am that it’s taken you like a week and a half to figure that out.”

Yuri did sort of count on Estelle staying behind, although he gets why she doesn’t want to now that she mentions it. There’s no car in the driveway right now. What if her guardian comes back while Yuri is inside? Still, now he has to factor her into his entry and exit strategy. Damn. He should have just made her give him an address, left her at home and winged it from there.

“Okay,” Yuri mutters. He swings his legs over the other side of the wall and starts his descent. “Just... do what I do, alright? I’ll try not to do anything too crazy. Lemme know if you can’t keep up and I’ll figure something else out.”

“A-alright.” Estelle tentatively lowers her leg over the edge of the wall, searching for the uneven bricks Yuri used to get down. Yuri hops down the last few feet and gets under her, spotting her in case of a fall. It seems to help with the mental side of things, at least. Estelle stops trembling so much and plants her feet more confidently. Yuri whisks her off the wall when she gets as far down as he jumped from.

“I don’t suppose you know whether there’s any security cameras?”

“Ah—yes, but—but we’ll be able to see them, there’s a little light when they’re on.”

“You sure they’re not motion-activated?”

“Y...yes?”

Well, there’s only one way to figure out for sure.

They creep around the perimeter of the property. Estelle murmurs directions and notes about the layout of the property. Here’s the garden; there’s the shed, but that definitely has a security camera, so don’t go that way. The greenhouse doesn’t have a camera, but it’s locked. Estelle thinks it will be, anyway, and Yuri’s not going to stick his fingerprints on every random surface just for funsies. Back door to the kitchen is a no go, too. There’s a chance the housekeeper might be around. Obviously they’re not going through the front door.

“I...” Estelle looks at him sideways, wringing her hands. They’re crouched in the shadows of the small orchard on the far side of the house. “I never locked my balcony door? But it’s on the second floor. There’s a tree, but no branches until higher up—I don’t know if it’s...”

“Oh, princess,” Yuri says. “Have some faith. I will make it climbable.”

“M-maybe for you!”

But she still helps guide Yuri back around the house and points out the window. It’s dark, which isn’t surprising. Estelle hasn’t been in her room for at least a week and a half. They’re too close to the ground floor windows now to risk talking, even whispering, so Yuri just pats her on the back and hoists himself up on the nearest decorative garden statue. From the top, he leaps to grab a tree branch hanging ten feet off the ground. It’s a solid jump, there’s no getting around it. Estelle’s wide eyes gleam in the moonlight as she clambers up the statue after him. Yuri hastily climbs up to straddle the branch. If she gets a bad grip, he’s going to want to be stable enough to catch her.

She wobbles at the top of the statue and casts a fretful look at Yuri. Yuri’s not feeling so hot about this himself, really, but at this point all he can do is flash her a thumbs-up and lean forward, body pressed to the branch to extend his reach below it.

She jumps.

The tree shu dders violently. Estelle gasps. Yuri hisses through his teeth, straining to keep his grip on Estelle’s free hand. She managed to get one hand onto the branch, at least, but she’s scrabbling not to lose her hold. The longer this goes on, the less likely someone inside will be willing to write it off as a bird or a raccoon or something—honestly, though, with her fingertips sliding over bark, it seems more likely that she’ll plummet to the ground and break something.

But right as Yuri starts to seriously consider freaking out, she grits her teeth, stretches up with Yuri’s help to get a second hand on the branch, and somehow, somehow works her way up to sit beside him. It’s fucking impressive. Yuri didn’t know she had that kind of arm strength. She really is a determined little monster when she puts her mind to it.

From there, it’s not easy, but it’s easier. The tree is good for climbing once you’re on it. Estelle shadows Yuri’s footwork, even with her second-hand sneakers slipping where the traction has worn down. Yuri helps her swing out of the branches and onto the balcony. He reaches for the door. Estelle catches his wrist, shaking her head, and opens it herself.

Of course. Estelle leaving fingerprints won’t alarm anybody if someone investigates the break-in. Yuri should have thought of that.

Estelle’s room is cast in odd angles of shadow, but Yuri can still tell that it’s exactly as frilly as he expected. Gauzy pink drapes surround the bed. The sheets gleam like satin. The moonlight makes the carpet look snow-white. It’s horrifyingly clean, too. Yuri has never seen a carpet that looked less walked-upon than this one. For fuck’s sake, did they steam-press her carpet the second she left the house, or does it always look like this?

He glances at Estelle. She stares at the room like she’s never seen it before.

No, wait. She doesn’t look like she’s seeing it at all. Shit. Yuri didn’t think this through. He should have been ready for the chance that coming back here would make Estelle dissociate.

“Estelle,” Yuri hisses, as quietly as he possibly can. It’s rough. He’s not built for low volumes. He touches her elbow. “Estelle, stick with me.”

Estelle looks down at his hand, blinking sightlessly. Yuri jostles her a bit. That snaps her out of it. She shakes herself out, jaw clenching. Yuri passes her one of the drawstring backpacks he brought with him.

“What do I grab?” she whispers.

“Whatever you want.”

“But...”

“Irreplaceable family shit. Books. Any clothes you really like.” He holds up the other bag. “Just point me to what you want and I’ll grab it for you.”

Estelle’s face falls. “I can’t fit all of my books.”

“That’s what the library is for, princess.”

“I don’t have a library card.”

“I have some great news for you about public libraries, but we’ll save that for later. Come on, let’s hurry up.”

Estelle’s wardrobe is baffling to Yuri. Almost everything in it is nicer than the value of all of his clothes put together. To get to the clothes she wants, she has to shove aside a whole row of hangers with fancy dresses on them. Thank God she doesn’t seem to want to take those ones with her. She points him to her bookshelf, whispering, “As many as possible!” and tiptoes off toward an ensuite bathroom. The floor doesn’t creak a peep. Yuri’s not sure he’s ever been in a room where it was possible to move this quietly.

He gives Estelle’s personal library his full consideration, which is to say he stares at each title for about two seconds and tries to picture it in the Lower Quarter’s public library. If he can’t, he grabs it. Most of the fiction gets left behind this way, but he figures Estelle will forgive him once they get her a library card. It’s gonna be awkward if she’s no longer interested in hardcover nonfiction novels about the history of European mythology or what the fuck ever, though.

Estelle emerges from the bathroom again, clutching her bag to her chest. On her way back to Yuri, she stoops to retrieve a pair of sneakers from under the bed. They’re fucking pristine. Yuri has seen shoes in shoe commercials that looked more used. She peers at what’s left on the bookshelf. Yuri allows her to double-check his work with as much patience as he can muster, but it’s not long before he nudges her insistently again. She huffs but obliges, crossing over to her desk. She retrieves several notebooks, then hesitates. Yuri peeks around her. Her hand hovers over her phone.

“It’s your call,” he says. “But I wouldn’t put money on that not being tracked.”

“I know,” Estelle says, miserably. She reaches down to turn it on and Yuri winces away from the sudden illumination of the screen. “Oh, no... I knew everyone might worry, but this is...”

“Maybe they’ll figure it out when the posters go down.” Or they’ll think she was found dead in a ditch, but Yuri probably shouldn’t say that to Estelle. Oh, hell, maybe Flynn thinks she’s dead in a ditch. Yuri is intimately acquainted with how badly Flynn copes with grief. Maybe they should be looking into secret, safe venues of contact. It won’t be from Estelle’s old phone, though, because she gives it one last wistful caress and leaves it on the desk.

Somehow, Yuri gets them both back out the window, down the tree and off the property without making too much of a ruckus. They sprint back to the edge of campus where Yuri left his car. For a few minutes, Estelle is too busy wheezing to say anything, and Yuri is more than happy to drive them through quiet streets bathed in yellow lamplight in silence. He likes the cover of night. It feels safe. He appreciates that, after the luxuriousness of Estelle’s house up close showed him that he was in way, way deeper than he’d thought.

“Oh, drat,” Estelle says, abruptly. Yuri side-eyes her.

“What now?”

“I ought to have at least gotten my contacts out of my old phone. I wanted to get Flynn’s number for you.”

“Christ’s sake, Estelle. Don’t do that to me. I thought we needed to go back for something important.”

“No! No. That was—this is enough. More than enough. You shouldn’t have—and I mean you really, actually shouldn’t have. I can’t believe you made me into a criminal!”

“I don’t see how it’s breaking and entering and stealing if I escort a lady back into her old house to pick up her own shit,” Yuri says, rolling his eyes. He does, in a clean-cut legal way, but it’s a stupid case to make in the first place. Everything they took was Estelle’s. Honestly, none of it seems to be worth much by itself. With a little luck, Estelle’s guardian or whoever won’t even notice that anything is missing until it’s way too late.

“It was extremely illegal!”

Yuri drops his voice several octaves to drone, blandly, “Your honor, the defendant is responsible for the theft of her own fucking notebooks, which have absolutely no commercial value and are basically useless to literally anyone else.”

Estelle laughs, once, sharp like she can’t help herself. She pushes at Yuri’s shoulder with almost no real force. “You’re awful.”

“Hey, no hitting the driver.”

“You didn’t even flinch!”

“I let you hit me, someday you’ll do it while Ted’s watching, suddenly Ted thinks he’s allowed to hit me and then we’ll all die in a fiery car crash.”

“You’re absurd.”

Yuri snorts. “You sound like Flynn.”

“I probably sound like everybody who knows you!”

“Absurd? Nah, that one’s all Flynn. Most people stick with ‘dumbass.’”

“Well,” Estelle says, primly, “I can’t imagine why.”

“Ouch,” Yuri laughs. He pulls into his apartment’s parking lot. “Right in the heart. I don’t know if I’ll ever recover.”

They’re still sniping at each other when they exit the car and head inside. The banter keeps up all the way to Yuri’s door, but Estelle is definitely sagging before they’re halfway up the stairs. She drags her feet on her way across the threshold, dropping her bag of rescued possessions on the couch before she collapses in a pile on the floor, next to Repede. Repede lifts his head enough to sniff at her suspiciously. When she offers her hand, he licks it, then unexpectedly leans over to lick her on the nose. Estelle half-laughs, half-yelps.

“Yuck! Repede!”

“Aw,” Yuri says. He kicks off his shoes and leaves the bag of Estelle’s books with her other shit before throwing himself down next to her and Repede. Repede quickly turns to plop his head into Yuri’s lap, tail wagging. Yuri strokes his back. “You’re getting used to her, aren’t you, bud?”

“He’s a good boy,” Estelle says. She pats Repede’s belly. He huffs a little, but allows it. “Repede, Yuri told me all about what a brave puppy you were today.”

She traces her fingers across his muzzle to touch the scarred side of his face. He doesn’t react much—he never has, not since it finished healing.

“I wish I was as brave as you,” Estelle whispers.

“I told you,” Yuri says, uncomfortably. “Cinematic parallels. You pulled through, just like him. I didn’t even have to force-feed you your antibiotics.” To Repede, he adds, dryly, “Unlike someone.”

Repede, who is a dog and has no clue Yuri is shit-talking him, yawns widely.

“I wish I could be strong,” Estelle mumbles. Her eyelids are drooping. Her whole body is drooping, actually. She wobbles unsteadily, even sitting down. “I wish I could... could go back and talk to my friends and not be so scared. That I could just knock on the door and ask to pick up my things. I’m such a baby.”

“Estelle,” Yuri says, around the lump in his throat. He reaches out and catches her by the shoulders as she sways forward, then eases her down so her head rests on Repede’s side. She sniffles a bit. “Being afraid of an abuser doesn’t make you a baby. Sometimes running away is the brave thing to do.”

“It’s not like he hit me that often.” Her fingers curl into Repede’s fur. He whuffles anxiously. Yuri strokes his head, trying to give Repede the comfort he wishes he knew how to give Estelle. “I should have stayed. I overreacted. I’m so stupid. And now I’m causing you trouble, and...”

“Estelle, c’mon.”

“It’s not fair.”

“No,” Yuri says. He rubs her back. “It’s not. But it’s not your fault.”

“I should have...”

“You should get some sleep is what you should do,” Yuri says. He heaves himself to his feet, then crouches again to scoop Estelle into his arms. She buries her face against his shoulder as he lifts her. Shit, she’s heavier than she looks. He grunts with the effort. “Okay, princess? Let’s get you to bed. In the morning we’ll eat a good breakfast and go talk to Hanks, and you’ll feel better. It’s gonna be alright.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah. I promise.”

He carries her to the bedroom and dumps her on the bed. She clings to his shirt when he tries to pull away.

“I d-don’t want to be alone—”

“Okay,” Yuri says. “Then let’s get you into some pajamas, and I can sleep on the floor in here for tonight.”

“I’m s-sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I took you someplace that was shitty for you tonight. Of course you’re upset.”

Estelle changes while he brushes his teeth. Once he’s got on his own soft sleep shirt and old shorts, he flops down in a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor. Repede curls up behind his knees.

“Thank you, Yuri,” Estelle mumbles, from under the comforter.

“It’s no problem. Wake me up if you need anything, alright? Anything at all.”

“...Okay.”

Yuri wakes up to smoke.

“The fuck?” he croaks. Repede sticks his head in through the open bedroom door, whining quietly. Yuri kicks his way out of the blanket cocoon he’s tangled in and staggers into the kitchen.

Ah. Estelle.

“I’m sorry,” she starts, wide-eyed and near to tears in front of a blackened skillet of what possibly used to be eggs. “I just wanted to—“

“Windows first, apologies later,” Yuri says. He yanks open the living room window, then grabs a magazine off the coffee table to wave uselessly through the smoke. Estelle coughs. “Damn. I forgot to change the batteries in the smoke detector.”

“A-are we going to—?”

“It’s fine, we’re fine. Go open the window in the bedroom, will you?”

Estelle hurries to obey while Yuri opens the kitchen window. The smoke isn’t as bad as it could be, given the apparent death of the detector. Seems like it’s already clearing out a bit. He picks up the spatula Estelle abandoned to prod at the lump of charcoal in his skillet.

“I wanted to make breakfast,” Estelle says, miserably, from somewhere behind him. “To thank you. But I messed it up.”

“Of course you did,” Yuri says. He scrapes at the skillet a little. It spreads charcoal around. “You haven’t ever cooked before, have you?”

“No...”

“You should have gotten me up. I could teach you.”

“But it wouldn’t be thanking you if I made you work more!”

“Yet here we are,” Yuri says. “Besides, I don’t need to be thanked, Christ. Open the trash for me.”

Estelle dutifully opens the cupboard the trash bin is stashed inside. Yuri pushes the less stubborn bits of charcoal into the bin, kicks the cupboard closed, then dumps the pan into the sink to soak.

“You do need to be thanked,” Estelle says. Yuri gives her an exasperated look over his shoulder; when he opens his mouth, she adds, hurriedly, “I want to thank you.”

“Well stop it,” Yuri grumbles. He goes into the cupboard for a new pan. At least the smoke is clearing out relatively fast. “Are there still eggs?”

“Y-yeah?”

“Alright. We’re going to give the smoke another minute to disperse, and in the meantime you can get a small bowl down for me and take the eggs back out.”

Yuri fucks off to find batteries. When he returns to the kitchen, Estelle is waiting anxiously with a small bowl and the egg carton. The air is only faintly smokey. Yuri grabs a chair and shoves it under the smoke detector.

“Crack the eggs into the bowl,” he says, as he clicks the cover off. “I’ll watch from here.”

“How many eggs?”

“Four.”

“You eat four eggs at once?”

“What are you going to have for breakfast?”

Estelle gives him a baffled look, like it hadn’t even occurred to her that she could make her own breakfast too. “I—I guess eggs?”

“If we have four eggs left, do four. If we don’t, I’ll just split whatever we have with you. We’ve got bread. We can have toast or something too.” Yuri sighs as he slides the new batteries into place. “I guess we need to go to the store. Shit.”

“I only used two eggs before,” Estelle blurts out. “We’ve still got five eggs.”

“Yeah, but I was gonna make shakshuka tomorrow.” Yuri puts the cover back on the smoke detector. Estelle finally, hesitantly removes an egg from the carton. She taps it lightly against the side of the bowl.

“Harder than that.”

“I’ll get egg everywhere!”

“You won’t.” Yuri climbs down from the chair. “You need a clean break to pull it apart, or you’ll get bits of shell in everything. Here, I’ll show you one.”

Yuri dumps the dead batteries into the garbage along with the still-faintly-smoking wreckage of the burnt eggs, then washes his hands. Estelle watches raptly as he plucks an egg out of the carton and snaps it against the edge of the bowl before pulling it cleanly apart.

“Like that. Now you—yeah, okay, that was a lot better. Now the next two.”

Estelle furrows her brow and does as instructed. She still gets a piece of eggshell in the mix, but nothing Yuri can’t fish out with his fingers. “Why are we using a bowl? Can’t it just go straight in the pan?”

“It can if you know what you’re doing.” Yuri shrugs, leaning his hip against the counter as he monitors Estelle’s dismemberment of the final egg. “For a beginner, though, it’s easier to make sure all of the eggs will go in the pan at the same time. Are we doing sunny-side up, or scrambled?”

“Uh—scrambled?”

“Okay. Let’s both wash the raw egg off our hands, then you’re gonna get the milk out.” Yuri towels off his own hands as Estelle opens the fridge, then reaches into the silverware drawer for a fork. “Just dump in a little bit.”

“How much?”

“A little bit. Like I said.”

“That’s not very specific.”

“Well, I just eyeball it. Here, I’ll do it the first time so you can see. Just—this much, about. A glug.”

“A glug,” Estelle echoes, side-eyeing him dubiously.

“A very precise measurement,” Yuri says. He flashes her a grin and hands the milk back. “Put this away.”

Salt and pepper to taste and whisking the yolks into the whites, at least, Estelle seems comfortable with. While she does that, he dumps some cooking oil into the new pan and turns on the heat.

“You’re a good teacher,” Estelle tells him, as she carefully pours the beaten eggs into the skillet. “You should teach classes.”

Yuri snorts. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I don’t have the patience for teaching as a job.”

“But you do!”

“I’ve taught stuff for the community center occasionally. I know I’m not cut out to do it full-time. You’re an angel of a student compared to most people, princess.”

Estelle tries not to visibly preen at the praise and mostly fails. Yuri laughs. “Here, grab the spatula. What you want to do now is—“

“You could’ve gotten her in a lot of trouble.”

“I told her she could stay behind.”

“Yuri.”

Yuri sighs. Estelle is on the other side of the community center, helping some of the kids with their homework. Yuri has to leave for the bar in ten minutes, and he was starting to think he might escape without the lecture, but no such luck. “Hanks.”

“Boy, what am I going to do with you?” Hanks sighs too, leaning back in his chair. “I thought you would have grown out of this by now.”

“Sorry,” Yuri says, snippy and insincere. “Really shitty of me to want her to have some of her own stuff that she likes again.”

“You know that’s not what the issue is, son.” Hanks rubs his temples. “You’re too impulsive. What if you had been caught? Forget Estellise. What do you think would have happened if someone had caught you?”

Yuri shrugs. “Nothing good.”

“And you still did it?”

“It was a calculated risk.”

“Your damn calculations are off.” Hanks scrubs a hand through his beard and fixes Yuri with a tired look. “I wish your old coach was still here. You were always better behaved for him.”

Yuri’s stomach drops. Hanks seems to realize his mistake as soon as he makes it, hastily opening his mouth again, but it’s too late for that now. Yuri is already shoving his chair back, the legs screeching on the floor. Estelle looks up from the other side of the room; Yuri sees her in his periphery before he turns to the door.

“Yuri?”

“I’m going to work,” Yuri gets out, through gritted teeth.

“Yuri, come on—“ Hanks tries. Yuri strides away without looking back. He shoves his way out the community center’s doors. There’s a quick patter of footsteps behind him, but it’s not Hanks’s gait, so Yuri forces himself not to lash out when someone catches him by the arm before he can get in his car. Estelle blinks up at him with her big green eyes.

“I thought you had a few more minutes.”

“I’m leaving early.”

She chews on her lower lip. A little guiltily, she admits, “I told the children you would do a knife trick for them if they finished their homework.”

Against all odds, that punches a short bark of laughter out of Yuri. He feels a little of the tension go with it, but the damn ache in his chest doesn’t go anywhere. “They’ll have to do their homework tomorrow, too, then. Tell them I’ll do two knife tricks to make up for it.”

Estelle beams at him. Her hand is still resting gently on his arm.

“Are you...” The smile slides off her face. “Are you upset? When you left, it seemed like...”

“It has nothing to do with you,” Yuri says, too sharply. Estelle’s face falls further. God dammit. Estelle is the last person who deserves Yuri’s ire. Trying to speak more softly, he adds, “Hanks chewed me out and I got mad because I’m secretly twelve. That’s all.”

“It didn’t look like you were mad about being lectured,” Estelle presses. Yuri swallows down a bitter sigh. He doesn’t want to talk about Coach in the middle of the community center’s parking lot when he has to drive to work in five minutes. He doesn’t want to talk about Coach at all, really. Estelle has enough baggage of her own without trying to unpack Yuri’s.

“I don’t really want to get into it right now.”

Estelle still looks a little hurt, but she nods. Her hand drops from Yuri’s arm as she steps back.

“Hang on.” Yuri digs into his pocket and fiddles with his keyring, then holds a fist out to Estelle. “Here. Gimme your hand.”

Estelle complies, her wounded expression melting into curiosity. Yuri presses a set of keys into her open palm.

“Take these. You can just go straight back to the apartment instead of having to wait for me to finish up at the bar.”

Estelle stands up a little straighter, with her mouth a little o of shock. “Are you sure? Is that really okay?”

“Sure. What’re you gonna do, rob me?”

“Well, I—I could! Hypothetically!”

Yuri rolls his eyes. “Right. Just take Repede for a long walk in the evening before you steal all of my shit, then. And I’m gonna need you to let me in or leave the door unlocked when I get home.”

“Okay!” Before Yuri can do much except fight down the reflex to throw her across the parking lot, Estelle launches herself forward to wrap Yuri in a hug. Yuri grunts in surprise, arms trapped. “Thank you so much!”

“It’s your apartment too, for now,” Yuri says. He manages to wriggle a hand free to pat her on the head. “We’ll get a second key tomorrow or something. I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you!”

Yuri waves as he drives off. It’s—an odd feeling, almost distracting enough that he stops feeling so nauseated. He’s taken on down-on-their-luck guests before, but he’s never given them his fucking keys.

Well. That’s the power of Estelle, he guesses.

#fluri #Estellise Sidos Heurassein #yuri lowell #tales of vesperia #long post #Feeling Pretty Good About the Trouble That I’m In #still no flynn just yuri Pining

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nauseateddrive · 4 years

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I ALMOST KILLED MY FURBY by Kristine Brown

"One day, you'll say, 'I want kids.'"

Surely. Pfft.

"...so keep in mind that when you do have children, you know that..."

I find that when it comes to offspring, precedents are implausible. But, go on.

"When are you having kids?"

Thanks for your concerns, people older than myself. By the way, I'm twenty and I just moved in with the guy.

* * *

Many of these discussions took place in 2012. Today, I'm twenty-eight. A generous plenty say I look seventeen, twelve on days speckled with sunshine and free of humidity. I have not seriously dated a man in more than two years. Silence is joyful, and my bank account is calm. I should also mention that my vocal chords are so much less strained because I've hardly engaged in another argument about when to get pregnant, how many times, and who would perform tasks of necessity while the other did all the indoctrination. My first relationship - the only serious one I've had - was outwardly quirky in that Wall-E and EVE sort of way, but if anyone was our neighbor, he or she would tell a different story. My live-in boyfriend had a dogged coldness resembling Kevin Lomax from The Devil's Advocate, and my meltdowns were just as grating as Mrs. Lomax's pleas to just "make a baby." Oddly enough, he was the one proposing plans for The Spawning. I just wanted him to spend time with me more.

My opinion on kids? I would make for an unfit mother. Possibly because of maladaptive behaviors, my urge to crush Pepsi cans to bite-sized accordions, a desensitization to insults my friends would classify as "bullying." I couldn't possibly impart a set of ethics to foster happiness and prosperity in the life of a child. "Oh, but that would be my job, love bug." Let's assume that besides diapering, clothing, breastfeeding, and these advanced duties to follow, I couldn't possibly have any sort of influence on my child. Doubtful.

Sometimes, whether at work or in a doctor's office, I witness an angry child thrashing a baby doll, or a careless, soporific child who drags the tiny mannequin by the hair. The parent may reprimand the child, and might even say: "Look what you did to your baby. No, don't do that!"

I can't say I've had these experiences, at least at a very young age. I never took an interest in baby dolls. Now, I do remember having multiple miniature dolls either given to me by older children or found in the clamor of Saturday swap meets. I do remember the Ken and Barbie, not genuinely Mattel but sufficiently humanoid to warrant their being called such. And with the screech of cheap Velcro, their garments were gone, and Ken slept on top. Well, I thought they were sleeping, but adults were displeased with my mission in choreography. I never saw those miniature knockoffs again. Predictably, I was supervised as I played with the Native American doll set. The male was removed, and eventually, so was the horse.

The clarity of my childhood memories astounds a handful of people, partly because of my current tendency to gloss over details and fail to follow directions. I could readily retell the plots and messages of numerous commercials in the mid-to-late '90s, the older Generation X-ers nodding and smirking in a way that asks, "Why do you know all this?" I was especially terrified of public safety announcements. "Only you can prevent forest fires" disconcerts me as much as "Hi, I'm Chucky. Wanna play?” But one campaign I couldn't tolerate was the one with the shaken baby. The teddy bear etched in stone, the infant's screams in the background, a camera in a dance of epilepsy. Then you see the whole tombstone and something along the lines of "Our Beloved Child." I think I was five or six at the time, but that was quite a horror flick.

What the frustrated adult committed against the baby, I would replicate three years later. To my Furby.

We were better off then and at this point my parents had learned the rules of Keeping Up with the Joneses. But they didn't buy the Furby. Even now, I question the merits by which he entered our home. Oreo. That's what my babysitter's older sister introduced him as, placing the box in my twiggy little arms, pinching my cheeks because that's what people do to you when you're eight, chubby, and loudly pretentious. She was fired the week after. I still remember being asked if the Furby was supposed to be paid for.

So consensus states that Furbies are Satan's little mercenaries. Infantilized Gremlins, wingless bats with beaks, sorely mutated flying monkeys. Whatever they may be, and in whatever year they were manufactured and marketed, we know that each and every Furby could use obedience classes with S.T.F.U. Consulting (I suppose we should add "LLC" to this, protecting the venture from lawsuits should the classes not work). That little gem plastered onto their foreheads? I don't believe it was ever a sophisticated camera, or a recording device. I couldn't teach Oreo anything. If I couldn't make him dance like my friends could with theirs, how could my children follow simple rules? Not that I was making this irrational connection in 1998, but my friends often joked that as much as I carried that loudmouth around, he was "kinda" my baby.

Furbies have this creepy voice a bit too similar to that of an aggressive cougar you've either known or heard of with a burgeoning case of emphysema. Yes, I also remember some graphic anti-smoking ads. I think above all demands, mine's signature croon was "Hungry." I'd press my finger on its plastic red tongue to hear those simpering "Mmmm"s and so many "Hungry"s that wouldn't cease no matter how often I fed the damn thing. Frustrated, I'd bury Oreo beneath layers of blankets, chuck him in multiple pillowcases, wedge him beneath the wall and my mattress. His nighttime cravings annoyed us all.

There was a point where I was reprimanded harshly for walking by Oreo during his "naps." We had had it with his shit.

We couldn't figure out how to turn the fucker off. Honestly, I don't remember anyone even taking steps to activate the Furby. He came into the world as is. It's eerily similar to those robotic babies they hoist onto high school freshmen in state-mandated health class. Abstinence only, this will teach you. And in those health classes I do remember some frustrated girls perpetrating acts of legitimate mannequin abuse. Kind of like those angry toddlers in doctors' offices. Oreo once again begged for food. I couldn't quite teach him to dance on cue. He never did anything other Furbies did in all the commercials. I knew you could rub them on the tummy and all, but I thought, "What if I turn him upside down?"

And he hung from my grasp, looking very much like an obese bat that lost its wings long atrophied. Characteristically, he screamed, "Weeeeee. Fun!"

My intention was to punish him. So I shook him.

"Weeeee. Fun! Tuba, woah! Do do do do do dooooo..."

(Oreo uttered this phrase multiple times. I could never really make out exactly what he was saying, but I am certain that he did say "Tuba.")

As my hands were too tiny for one to do all the handling, I tried to spin him around. Really, I churned the animatronic butterball in multiple directions, my arms growing tired, my frustrations projected.

"Woahhh! Woahhh!"

I continued with this odd punishment.

"Woaaaahhhh! Me scared!"

The cry was loud. But that "Me scared" was a bit unsettling. It was a mix between a coo and a gasp, like he knew what I was trying to do. But I continued in my campaign to silence Oreo.

"Whooopeeeee! Fuuuunnnn!"

Blatantly contradicting the sentiments expressed immediately prior. I continued.

"Woaaahhh! Me scared! Heeeee."

That "heeee" actually sounded remorseful. I felt a twinge of remorse. But it wasn't enough, as I did continue.

Repeatedly, he would cry about being scared. And suddenly, a snorting sound. And while he hung upside down, the base of his odd little person in the clutches of my white-knuckled hands, he spoke the awaited mantra.

"Wooooo. Wooooo. Wooooo. Something something. Cocoa."

(Again, it's often hard for me to properly recall exactly what that thing said. I'm pretty confident he said "cocoa." He had some decent taste.)

And silence. For a good two years. Despite several jabs and pinches in evenings to follow, Oreo persisted in his slumber. Or coma.

Twenty years later, and I'm ordering books on Amazon to better address my anger, impatience, and tendency to seethe. Babies, and children in general, stay absent in my plans. But really, no one would take the story of Oreo seriously enough in reviewing my constant fears. That day, I became a little scared of myself.

Kristine Brown shuffles between poetry, prose, data entry, and wishing she could properly fly a kite. She photographs strangers' cats and writes poems for them. You can find these poems on her blog, Crumpled Paper Cranes (https://crumpledpapercranes.com). Her writing appears in Hobart, Philosophical Idiot, Burningword Literary Journal, among others. Her novel, Connie Undone, will be released on March 1st, 2020.

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swellwriting · 5 years

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What do we do now? - Part 8

Part 8 - Lavender Honey

A/N: Remus never gets tired of the dragon egg jokes, everyone else may be but he’s not. A little bit of fluff, some stupid Bertram comments as per usual, some smut, and a cliff hanger ending all in one chapter! ALSO please like/ reblog/ comment if you read and feel free to send in drabble requests for this story (Fluff/ angst /smut whateva u feel like)

Warning: This chapter contains smut! It is clearly marked and easy to skip if its not ur cup of T.

Word Count: 4k Series Masterlist

The angry pounding at the door continued as Y/n and Remus came to their senses. Through all the banging and yelling Bertram's door remained closed, either he was sleeping through this whole thing or he was purposefully ignoring it.

Y/n got up and stretched as she made her way to Bertram's bedroom door, unaware that he had locked himself in there since she hadn't read the letter he left them last night.

She tapped loud enough for her knocking to sound separate from the stranger outside. “Bertram, there is someone, someone very angry, at the door.”

“I know!” Bertram whined, he was sat against the door listening and dreading having to face his problems, but at least he wasn't running away like Remus or Y/n probably would in this situation.

“Are you going to answer it? What do they want?”

“No! I won't answer it, can’t you tell he is angry?”

“Well, I don't think he is leaving anytime soon.”

“Just tell him I'm not here!” Bertram yelled in the same whiney voice, like a toddler.

Y/n got up and walked towards the door, she grabbed her wand from the floor beside the makeshift bed and yelled to the other side of the door.

“Bertrams not here!”

The person stopped pounding on the door and yelled back, still just as angry. “Bollocks he’s not there, a course he is! And he is going to answer to me! He is going to open this damn door!”

Y/n stepped away from the door and looked at Remus who was standing away from the window even though the curtains were pulled shut.

Remus walked over to Bertram's door and knocked. “Bertram, he isn’t going away. What did you do to piss him off so much anyway?”

“I don't know! Maybe I sold him the wrong potion, maybe I got the bottles mixed up, I do that sometimes.”

Y/n sighed and placed a hand on her forehead, stressed with this entire situation. She turned to the door again and just repeated herself. “Look, I'm very sorry I wish I could help you but Bertram isn't here, I don't know what else to tell you.”

“That’s it, I'm going to report this to the police! And if they think I'm crazy I’ll find the magic police, someone will make you accountable, there must be regulations for a business of this sort. You can’t sell me a love potion that is actually a fire breathing potion and expect to get away with it!”

Remus peaked out the window and watched as the angry man stormed down to the road and got in his car speeding away and disappearing into the distance.

Y/n placed her head against the door, relieved to at least have made the man go away.

“Good morning.” Remus joked as he fixed the blankets on the bed and flicked his wand transfiguring the bed back into a couch. “Fancy some breakfast?”

“Please.” She groaned and they went to the kitchen to find some sort of food. Y/n sat on the stool against the counter and propped her head up with her hands watching Remus try to sort through the fridge.

“Slim pickings I'm assuming?” She asked and Remus closed the fridge with a nod.

“I could always fry up some Dragon eggs?”

“Very funny. Is there any bread in the cupboard there?” Y/n asked and Remus opened the cupboard beside the fridge.

“Yes, there are seven, seven loaves of the same type of bread. And we have a toaster, all we need is,” Remus paused as he looked through the other cupboards, “Peanut butter?”

“Perfect.”

Remus made them both toast and sorted through the cupboards to find them some coffee and tea.

They sat silently, backs arched as they leaned their elbows on the counter in front of them, kitchen islands are really impractical for posture. Bertram opened his door and peeked out, hoping they wouldn't see him but they both turned their heads in sync, looking at Bertram when his door creaked and gave him away.

He was very clearly trying to sneak out.

“If you were trying to sneak past us you could have gone out the window, or even apparated away?” Y/n questioned as she munched down on her toast, she wasn't angry with him and Bertram was visibly relieved.

“I thought you might be sleeping, I was trying to be quiet.”

“We spoke to you less than five minutes ago.” Remus deadpanned from behind his coffee mug.

Bertram just nodded, accepting that he had been caught and was out of dumb excuses.

“You really fucked up.” Y/n said as she wiped some crumbs off the counter, “mixing up a love potion with one that makes you breathe fire? A big difference with those, a dangerous difference.”

“Honestly I think they are equally as dangerous, given the nature of some love potions and all,” Remus commented, humour dark like his coffee.

“I know.” Bertram pouted in the same whiney voice from earlier, falling onto the couch with a huff.

“Well next time he comes you should really talk to him, offer him a free dragon egg for his troubles or something.” Remus teased.

“We can just Obliviate him? If he comes back.” Y/n said giving Remus a questioning look as if to ask him for his input.

“You want us to obliviate him?” Remus asked.

“I mean it’s what we are supposed to do when we find out a muggle has seen magic of some sort.” She explained.

“You’re right, I guess it keeps our hands clean too. If he does find the ministry somehow and he gets here before them at least we can say we tried.” Remus offered but Bertram stood up walking across the room swiftly.

“He won't be able to contact the ministry he’s a muggle!” He argued.

“Well, he found a way to get his muggle hands on magic potions so if he’s determined I'm sure he will find a way to contact them somehow, we just have to hope he tries to come back here first.” Y/n placed a hand lightly on Bertram's shoulder, trying to comfort him as his wide bloodshot eyes gave away how stressed and tired he was.

Bertram just nodded slowly, squinting his eyes as he was in deep thought. He offered no explanation before grabbing his wand and a fist full of floo powder before disappearing in a flash of green fire.

“Okay, see you later Bertram!” Remus sarcastically said as he stood up and patted his palms against his legs looking around for what to do now. Y/n was just standing there leaning against the counter waiting for Remus to do or say something. It was nice being in one place after weeks of travelling, nowhere to go. The forest was nice in that sense but it was like camping, and you can only enjoy camping for so long. There comes a point where a real hot shower and a big warm bed are deeply missed.

“This cottage is really nice actually, needs a bit of cleaning though.”

“Are you suggested we clean it?” Y/n asked with a smile, cleaning wasn't nearly as much of a dreadful task when magic was involved.

“Sure.”

With no further words exchanged the two started cleaning, falling into a good rhythm, they really were a good team. Y/n opened the curtains and cracked the windows to let in some fresh air, Remus found a closet with cleaning supplies that flew out and started cleaning once he opened the door.

They started grabbing books that had fallen off the moving bookshelves and arranged them neatly, Y/n ran her fingers across the spines as she skimmed through the titles, “there are some good books here.”

“I’d hate to say Bertram has good taste.” Remus teased.

“There's no way these are his, they are his grandmothers I'm sure, I think everything here is.”

“Except the illegal stuff.” Remus joked and they both laughed, Y/n placed a finger over the shiny book that would open the storage room but looked hesitantly at Remus before daring to move it.

“We should let the cleaning supplies get in here don't ya think?”

“Yeah, they will be gentle. Better than if we, or dare I say, Bertram, were to try and clean in there.”

With a giggle Y/n pulled the book out, stepping back as the bookshelf disappeared into the floor. She stepped aside and the cleaning supplies that had just finished cleaning the kitchen and living room went inside. She stood patiently, watching as the charmed cleaning supplies cleaned everything, dusting the shelves and mopping the floor, cleaning the burnt cauldron so it sparkled again. They flew out and Remus was waiting on the other side of the room to let them into the basement. After that, they dared to even let the supplies in Bertram's bedroom and the bathroom that they hadn't even noticed.

Y/n and Remus stood in the doorway of the bathroom, it was nice, arguably the nicest part of the house. Maybe that's just the opinion of Y/n and Remus, two people who have been living outdoors and on this wild runaway adventure with no nice bathrooms, and also the biggest introverts you could ever meet.

Maybe that’s why this cottage with its secluded location, wall-length bookshelves, large windows, comfy couches, isolated backyard and now a lavish bathroom with a huge bathtub and separate shower, was so appealing to them.

“We have cleaned the entire house, now it’s time for the house to clean us!” Y/n said excitedly as she ran across the room to the bathtub and kneeled in front of it placing her arms and hands over the side as she admired the smooth porcelain.

“Not sure that makes sense but I get the point.” Remus teased.

Y/n looked up at him with the biggest eyes of admiration, the kind she had always looked at him with, though he was unaware of it most times. “If you need me I’ll be in here for the next five years.”

“I think that’s ample time for relaxation, would you like me to grab you a book and your pyjamas from the car?”

Remus leaned down a bit as he spoke to her, grabbing her cheeks gently and squeezing them before he moved his hand to the side, she nuzzled her cheek into his palm as she smiled, shutting her eyes. It was a peaceful expression, Remus almost didn’t want to look away.

“It's not even noon, you think I should put my pyjamas on already?” She asked, eyes still shut and a smile still across her face.

“Well, why not, it's not like we are going anywhere.”

“You’re just full of brilliant ideas today aren't you.”

Remus chuckled as he placed a kiss on her forehead before standing back up and leaving the room. As he shut the door, not knowing when Bertram would be back, he heard the tap turn on and the sound of Y/n shuffling through the cabinet for bath products.

When he got back, with a good book that he picked out for her guessing what she would like based off how well he knew her, and a pair of pyjamas which were just plaid pyjama shorts and a very oversized t-shirt that he recognized as probably being one of James’, he knocked quietly before creaking the door open.

“I have your requested supplies, Mini.”

“You sound like my potions assistant again.” Y/n joked from inside the tub, she was fully submerged and hidden behind a mountain of purple bubbles, the room smelled like lavender and honey and the bathwater was so hot the mirror was already fogged up.

“No potion supplies here, just a book and some Pj’s.” Remus smiled as he tried to avoid looking in the soapy water, he placed the items on a dry part of the counter beside the sink.

“Come ‘ere” Y/n almost whispered and Remus instantly abided before she even finished her words.

He leaned against the side of the tub, knees against the floor and elbows resting on the edge, his sleeves already a bit damp. Y/n grabbed some bubbles on her fingertips and rubbed them across Remus’ face, leaving some to pile up on top of his nose. He scrunched his face up as if it bothered him but his smile and red cheeks gave him away.

“How can I ever thank you?” she asked quietly as she ran her fingers through the curls that fell in his face, getting them wet as she played with them.

“You can thank me by having a relaxing bath with me sometime.” He suggested.

“Some time? But there's one right here right now!” She said in a slow teasing tone that made Remus’ heart beat faster, he gripped the side of the tub, knuckles turning white as his mind raced.

“You want me to come in there? With you?” He asked timidly.

They hadn’t done much since that night in the car, even that was mere foreplay, they hadn't even kissed that much since then, not having a moment alone without Bertram hovering around. Neither of them being big on PDA.

Y/n just nodded, a wicked smile on her face.

Remus put his hand in the water swooshing it around, “If I get in there it will overflow and spill everywhere.”

“Oh no, too bad we don't have a magic mop in the other room.”

*****Smut starts*****

She smiled as she got on her knees bringing her upper half out of the water, wet and sudsy skin making Remus blush more. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him close so his lips were on hers, she kissed him quickly, unsure of how much time they truly had. Remus moved his hands to her breasts, rubbing his fingers gently across the bubbles, brushing against her nipples with his fingertips and before he knew it he was being pulled in with a splash and a flood spilled on the floor.

The bathtub was big enough that they could both fit if they were careful but they were in such a heated hurry that they splashed about as they moved around, kissing intensely only pausing to smile on each other's lips. Y/n had her back against the porcelain tub as Remus hovered over her. His clothes were too wet and heavy to easily take off on his own so Y/n slowly peeled them off piece by piece as he slid his hand between her thighs.

Her legs spread as far as they could since she was pinned beneath him, his knees on either side of her hips. His fingers pushed inside her with little rhythm, every time he moved his arm the water would spill over the side of the tub a little more.

Her fingers fiddled with his pants, trying to get them off him but the effort proved useless. He smiled against her cheek as he moved to kiss down her neck before pulling his fingers away and moving his hands to grip her hips, carefully wrapping her legs around his waist and then lifting them both out of the tub. Taking careful steps around the bubbly puddles and then placing her on the bathroom counter. The cold smooth tile underneath her warm bare skin.

Remus was still wearing his pants, his shirt and sweater were successfully taken off by Y/n in the tub. He stood between Y/n’s legs as she wrapped them around his waist and pulled him closer to her. She continued her mission from before, if she was completely naked why shouldn’t he be. It took a bit of teamwork to get his soaked jeans off of him, building up the tension and impatience they were both feeling for one another.

She wanted to see him completely naked for so long, the last time they did this it left too much to the imagination, and when they went swimming he was hidden under the water from her examining and detail searching eyes.

She didn’t get to spend too much time admiring his pale skin, covered in scars and odd freckles here and there before he grabbed her face, kissing her roughly before pushing inside of her. They both gasped, shocked at the new feeling. His hands moved from gently holding her cheeks to grabbing her hips, pulling her closer to him with each thrust.

She wrapped her hands around his shoulders, moving her hands over his wet back, digging her nails in to keep him close.

Remus placed a hand on the mirror to steady himself. This was not the smartest way for them to do this for the first time, it was clumsy and slippery and desperate and exploratory and not thoroughly planned out like everything they do together. His hand slides against the glass of the mirror as he thrusts faster and deeper, his forehead is pressed to hers because he can’t focus on this and kissing her at the same time.

She wants to say something but isn’t sure what’s right to say, her mind is clouded and all she can think of, all she can feel is him.

“Rem, Remus…” She muttered through scattered breaths as the tension-filled her stomach as she came undone. Remus thrust a few more times before coming, kissing her and pushing her against the mirror to her back.

He pulled away from the kiss, smiling sheepishly at her and she just smiled back at him.

“Now I feel like I need another bath.”

“That can be arranged,” he teased before he kissed her once more.

*****smut ends******

Bertram rushed around the small kitchen making some sort of food, Y/n was sat on the stool at the kitchen island and Remus was stood on the other side of it, trying not to be in Bertram's way. They were unfazed by the commotion Bertram was causing, he insisted he didn't need any help.

Bertram had been gone almost all day and had only come back around 6 pm, with a few groceries in hand thankfully.

Y/n looked at Remus from behind her mug, her eyes travelled from the floor and then up to his face. He was already looking at her. They both stayed like that, silently examining each other, a smile broke across Y/n’s face, simply because he made her happy.

They looked at the faces in front of them, wondering how they went from strangers to classmates, to acquaintances and then to this, whatever this was. They went from existing in the same small world to being each other's whole lives, their points of view focused on each other.

The background blurred when she stared at him, she took a sip from her tea and he raised a teasing brow. He was about to tease her, tell her to take a picture as it would last longer, but smoke passed in front of his face catching both their attention.

It was clear Bertram really did need help.

Remus chuckled and turned to help him as Y/n watched in amusement from her seat. After a few struggled minutes Y/n was presented with a plate with two burnt pancakes on it.

Before they could all sit down and enjoy the sweet moment and the hopefully sweet pancakes, there was a loud banging on the door again. All of their smiles faded.

“Bertram! Open the door. Answer me you lying bastard!”

Remus was the first to stand he walked over to the door and went to turn the nob to open it but Bertram ran up behind him.

“No.” He whispered but Remus shook his head.

“You can’t hide forever. Just obliviate him.” Remus said before he forced the door open, his wand in his hand hidden behind his back.

The man started yelling but Bertram said nothing in response he stared blankly at the angry man in front of him.

“Bertram, do it!” Y/n yelled from her seat as she watched nervously.

Bertram shook his head, a clear look of fear on his face so Remus pushed him aside, silently casting obliviate on the angry muggle in front of him.

Suddenly three Auror’s appeared, wands drawn. The muggle man looked around confused as ever as to where he was and what was happening.

“You obliviated him?” One of the Aurors asked as she looked at the muggle.

Bertram shook his head, making them believe that Remus was who they were looking for.

“So you are Bertram Aubrey then?” The woman asked Remus and he shook his head. One of the Aurors stepped forward, Remus recognized him.

Of the three Aurors in front of them, there was a woman he didn’t recognize but looked not much older than him, and two men who he recognized as Dirk Cresswell and Davey Gudgeon.

“No, that's Remus Lupin,” Davey said.

“Uh yeah, that's Bertram, but I am the one who Obliviated the muggle, that's a law. I followed the law.” Remus said, he was panicked but he was trying to sound calm and sure of himself as he spoke slowly and clearly.

“We know the laws, and being apart of the black market for potions and creatures is against the law.” The woman snapped at him.

“I'm not,” Remus argued but he was interrupted by Dirk.

“Then why obliviate him?”

Remus didn't want to admit that he knew what Bertram was doing and he couldn't think of any excuses fast enough.

“That's what I thought,” Dirk said as they went behind Remus and used a spell to lock his arms behind his back, they did the same to Bertram.

Y/n ran to the door, not worried about being arrested herself.

“You can’t take him! He's innocent I swear.” She pleaded, tears filling her eyes at the sight of Remus being pulled away.

“Well, even if he is, he just obliviated our witness so I think he will prove useful. Stay safe out here all alone little lady, there are wolves in these woods I hear.” Dirk teased.

“Sorry about this Y/n, and I’m sorry about James too. Just stay here in case we need to come back for you, we have no reason to take you in now but please don't run.” Davey said before they all apparated away leaving Y/n standing in the doorway by herself, unable to do anything to help them.

She was alone now, in a place that wasn’t home and only felt like it because of who she was with. The backseat of the car felt like home with Remus there, the forest felt like home and the shitty motels did too as long as Remus was there with her. But now he wasn't.

Loneliness consumed her and she fell to her knees as she whispered to herself.

“What do I do now?”

The emphasis on the I hurt, because the honesty of it all was that Remus wasn't there to ask her this. He wasn't there for her to focus on and guide, Bertram wasn’t there to be clueless and she had never felt so hopeless and powerless. How could Davey look at her, offer his empty apologies to her and then take them away anyways, leave her there? They weren't close friends at all but he knew James, how could he take Remus away like that?

She sat like that for an hour staring down the driveway, until a black shaggy dog ran down the road and stopped at the door, staring at her through the thin screen.

At first, she thought it was a wolf, but as it got closer she realized it wasn’t.

She didn't fear the dog, she welcomed anything to cease the loneliness, but its eyes seemed not those of a dog but of a human.

Where did this mysterious dog come from?

Part 9

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justjessame · 4 years

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The Love of Two Hunters Chapter 1

I ran down the stairs of my dad’s house, yelling as I clamored down. “Daddy? Do you know where I put my-” I stopped at the bottom when I realized he had company. That would explain the loud motors I’d heard while packing, I thought. My gaze ran over a guy a little younger than me, another guy around my age, and then HIM. Shit. I took a breath and realized that my dad was glaring at the three of them and hadn’t even glanced my way. Thank God.

“Daddy?” I called again, noticing that none of them had heard or noticed me. Suddenly four pairs of eyes were on me and I felt a little bit uncomfortable with the attention. “Um, hey.” I gave a small wave, praying that John had the common sense to pretend we’d never fucking met before. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you.” I stood on the third stair from the bottom. “I just need to know if you’ve seen my flip flops?” It was lame, but the truth, and I could feel John’s smirk from where I stood even without glancing at his face.

“Daddy?” The older of the two younger men whispered at my dad. “Bobby, there something you haven’t told us?”

I bit my lip, my dad’s glare clearly not for me. “Shut up, you idjit.” He growled and smiled at me. “Sweetheart, I think you left them outback.” I nodded and smiled. “These guys just came to watch the football game with me, guess they forgot to CALL.” His glare returned to the source of his ire.

“Thanks,” I grinned, thinking that whatever John Winchester and the other two men were actually here for, they would definitely be getting an earful.

I jogged down the last three stairs and ran through the house to the back door. Letting it shut behind me, I looked around the back stoop, and sure enough there they were. Grabbing them, I considered waiting to let my dad give his visitors the tongue-lashing he wanted to. After all, I knew precisely how much he hated people just showing up on his doorstep without calling first. Not that he’d get pissed at me, but when other people turned up while I was visiting, he’d lose his shit. To put it politely.

Waiting until I felt that Dad had no doubt got most of it out of his system, I opened the back door and listened. I couldn’t hear anything, but I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt arms wrap around my waist and pull me tight against a hard chest. “Shh,” I felt his hot breath beside my ear, so I knew he was leaning over me. Jesus, John Winchester would be the fucking death of me. “Hey,” his voice, deep and smooth rolled over me as I relaxed for a moment in his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me who your dad is?”

I rolled my eyes. “One, I didn’t know you knew my dad, John. And two, you should probably let me go, before my dad kills you.” I felt his chuckle rush through me, and found myself smiling. “Seriously, he’ll chase your ass with a shotgun, I’ve seen it happen.”

He turned me to face him, forcing me to tilt my head up. Trust me to always fall for the tall ones. I bit my lip taking in his face. “I think I’ll risk it,” his head dipped and his lips brushed mine. I sighed and closed my eyes, letting myself enjoy it for a minute. I could hear Dad’s voice from the library, gruffly grumbling at the two other men. John pulled back, listening. “I think he’s hitting his stride with my boys.”

I raised my eyebrow. “Your boys?” I knew he had kids, he’d shared a great deal of his life story with me, but I had somehow always pictured children. “Those two are Dean and Sam?” I could hear the incredulous tone my voice took and he grinned down at me picking it up easily.

“That would be them.” His thumb brushed over my bottom lip and I had to fight the urge to flick my tongue against the calloused pad. “Why didn’t Bobby ever tell me about you?” I could tell it was a question he didn’t expect to be answered, which was good, because I really had no idea. “Why haven’t I ever seen you here before?”

Now that I could answer. “I told you, John, I live with my grandparents.” I shrugged, that was the simple answer, the rest was so complicated that I didn’t know or understand half of it. “You’re going to have to release me, before he catches you pawing at me.” I softened the blow with a smile. “I’m leaving to go back today.”

He sighed and unwrapped his arms. “Back to school?” As though he realized what season it was, he shook his head. “Back to your grandparents’?”

I nodded, and pulled away. “Yeah, my visits to Dad aren’t long, but they’re memorable.” I smiled up at him and whispered, “let me know when you’re back in my neck of the woods, ok?” I bit my lip and rushed to take the stairs back up to my room, so I could finish packing and get on the road before Dad deemed it too late to go.

I was still gathering my things when I heard a light knock on my door. “Come in.” I kept stopping to try to think about whether I was leaving anything behind, I was in the process of one such moment when Dad opened the door. “Hey, Daddy.” I offered absently as I tried to remember where I last saw my toiletry bag. The bathroom would have been a safe bet, but I knew it wasn’t there, I’d checked. I realized that Dad hadn’t said a word, and I stopped to look up at him. “Daddy?”

“Honey, I think it would be best if you stayed the night.” He looked conflicted at the mere thought, but I glanced out the window and realized he was right. Shit, I’d lost the light. “I know we talked about you going today, but-”

“I know, Daddy, the night holds terrors that I don’t even know about.” I’d heard this since I was old enough to remember the words, but I was certain he’d been saying it for far longer. I sighed, knowing that he was upset because the Winchesters were here, and he didn’t want me to meet them, or anyone from his life here. “I’m sorry.” I felt like I’d screwed up by fucking up and not being ready to go earlier. It was just that, I really truly loved being with him. My dad, this amazing guy that just freaking loved me so much and made every moment with him memorable.

“Oh, sweetheart, nothin’ for you to be sorry about.” He pulled me to him and I sighed into the feeling of his hug. My dad was so soft and sweet, that hugging him would be the easiest way to comfort me, even during my earliest childhood and I was still getting used to the visits. “Just hate that those idjits had to ruin our last day.” His voice was gruff, but I heard fondness even in the word idjits.

I grinned and pulled back. “Why haven’t you told them about me?” I had never asked the question, never thought I should, but now it was bothering me a bit. “Why don’t you want your friends to know about me, Dad?”

He sighed and sat on my bed. I took a seat next to him, pushing one of my bags out of the way. “Honey, some of the people I deal with, they deal with some bad things.” I squinted, trying to decide what he was telling me. “I don’t want you involved, it’s dangerous, so if they don’t know about you, then you can’t be targeted.” Jesus, he made it sound like the mafia.

“Daddy?” I took his hand and asked a question that I doubted he would have thought I’d even know to ask. “Are you a hunter?”

His eyes widened, and I knew. Confirmation, finally. I had wondered, after meeting John, and seeing some of the things he’d said or done. The things he used, the way he spoke, all of it sounded like my dad. “Of course I’m a hunter, honey.” He brushed it off, about to talk about deer or some other nonsense.

“You know what type of hunter I mean, Daddy.” I said, rolling my eyes. “You hunt the bad things in the darkness that you’ve been warning me about since I was a toddler.” His hand clenched in mine. “It’s ok, really.”

“No,” he stood up and began pacing. “Sweetie, you don’t understand. You can’t understand. Keeping you away from all this, from them,” I knew he meant other hunters, not just John, but I felt my heart clench. “Keeps you safe. We don’t just hunt them, honey, they hunt us too.”

I wanted to understand, but I also knew that NOT being a hunter could make you hunted too. That’s how I’d met John, after all. He’d been in the town I was going to college in, working on my Master’s degree, hunting for something stalking the coeds of my college. We’d met, after he’d finished it, he was covered in blood, some his own, and I’d offered him a place to clean up. Adrenaline was a great aphrodisiac. As was the fact that I could see the safety in his eyes, the clear proof that he was a good one. Of course I couldn’t tell Dad this, not even close to it.

“But, Dad,” I stood and took his hand again, forcing him to stop pacing. “I’m not a child anymore. You know that. I don’t want to have to hide or rush away so no one sees me when I visit. And I don’t want your friends to be shocked when I call you ‘daddy’ or ‘dad’ because they don’t know. I feel like some kind of dirty little secret.” It rushed out of me, and I realized that it had bothered me more than I admitted even to myself.

Dad’s eyes pinched at my words, I knew it hurt him to hear, but how did he think it felt to feel it? “Aww, sweetheart, you’re not a dirty secret.” He wrapped me in another hug, kissing the top of my head. “Why didn’t you tell me you felt like this?” I shrugged. “Damn it, I’ve done so much wrong, that even what I thought I was doin’ right was wrong.” I felt him sigh, but he didn’t pull away, just held me, giving and getting comfort. “Come downstairs, guess it’s time you met the idjits I deal with all the damn time.”

I giggled and pulled back. “Does that mean I don’t have to rush back tomorrow?” I asked, hoping that he knew that I’d stay forever if he let me. He gave a gruff snort and I called it a win. “Let me toss my things away, at least for now, and I’ll be right down.” He kissed my forehead and smiled.

“That’s fine, Parisa. Take your time.” I smiled, realizing that he’d used my name, usually it was terms of endearment, but this time he used the name my mother had picked. I’d once looked it up, and realized that she’d picked a name that meant ‘like an angel’. That was a hell of a lot to live up to, but I also realized, when I met John and he told me things about his life, that angels weren’t always so innocent. He walked out of my room, taking a long look at me before he closed my door.

I sat down on the bed. Taking a beat to get my thoughts in order. One harsh truth down, I thought, now how and when could I explain about John and I?

#john winchester x ofc #bobby singer's daughter #supernatural fanfiction #alternative universe #eventual smut

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0pretty-setters-squad0 · 4 years

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Dumb Project (F) Oikawa x Reader

Hey guys! I think I may turn the last chapter in to a full story in a book of it's own. Maybe Oikawa will be a love interest in that one.... maybe it'll be Oikawa x Reader x Kuroo.... who knows? Would you guys be interested in that? Let me know in my PM or DM. Anyways- on with the story. Oh! Slight mention of dirty thoughts, but nothing anywhere near graphic.

I was walking down the halls of Aobajohsai, just trying to make it to your last class of the day when I heard squealing behind me. Great. Oikawa fangirls. I move to the side of the hall as I let the group of girls pass, all giggling as they headed to find Oikawa.

As I walk in the classroom, I sat my bag down before pulling out a notebook and pencil to get ready for class. This was my English class, and I was fairly confident in my ability when it came to the class. I knew that my class would be assigned a project today, and that would suck due to the fact that you were busy most days after school, seeing as I'm the manager for the boy's volleyball team. A few moments pass and the desks next to me filled up as my classmates entered and took their seats. Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Matsukawa were all in the class with me. I hoped that my teacher would partner me with Hanamaki or Iwaizumi. Oikawa was my last choice of partners from everyone I really knew in the class. "Alright class, today we'll be working on...." the teacher began as she started the class. I droned out for the most part, other than taking a few notes here and there. The class went fine, it was all simple, and all I had to do was listen to the teacher while she talked about whatever I was meant to learn. I took notes subconsciously without really paying attention to what I was writing. Seeing as it was the first day back from break, the project would probably the annual poster that was assigned. The project was about break and all that crap. Usually partners weren't assigned, but maybe the teacher switched things up this year. The lesson had finally come to an end, and I was just ready to see who I had been stuck with. "Now, onto the project I'll be assigning," the teacher began handing out rubrics, "I'll be assigning your partners. The project will be about your break, but the catch is, you must make a poster about what your partner did over break. You'll need to use color and images, along with a header and everything must be in English." I glanced over the rubric, seeing all the points I had to include. Who my partner spent break with, what they did, where they went, and if they had images from break, I could include those for bonus points. "Alright, time for partners," the teacher spoke. I mentally crossed my fingers and hoped to not be stuck with and idiot.... or Oikawa, because that would just set me back. "Akazawa and Nakayama, Hitarashi and Inaba," she went on calling out partners, "Iwaizumi and Matsukawa," she had gone on until nearly everyone was taken. Well shit, there went the best two partners in the whole damn class. "Oikawa and L/N," the teacher finished calling names. Of. Fucking. Course. I was now stuck with Oikawa for the whole week working on a project. I see Oikawa walk over to me and sit at the empty desk in front of mine. "Hello L/N-Chan, glad I didn't get stuck with a terrible partner," he sent me a kind smile, which was actually pleasant to look at. "Sup, Trash-Kun, wish I could say the same," I said, turning a page in my notebook so you had a blank paper. "What is with you and Iwa-Chan, always calling me trash? It's rude you know," Oikawa crossed his arms across his chest and stuck out his bottom lip, pouting. "It's fun," I shrugged. "Oh come on, it can't be that fun," Oikawa responded, still pouting at me like a toddler. I raised an eyebrow at the setter before me. "Hey Iwa-Chan," I hollered to Iwaizumi who was sitting a couple desks away, "Isn't it fun calling Oikawa trash?" "Yes, very," Iwaizumi responded smiling. "See? Told you," I smirked at Oikawa, leaning forward and ruffling his hair. "Oh, whatever, let's just start working on the project," Oikawa leaned over to my desk. "Well, let's both make a list of everything we did over break and then see where that leaves us," I suggested handing Oikawa a piece of paper to use. "Okie dokie, whatever you say, boss," Oikawa gave me a thumbs up as he took the paper from my hands. The two of us used the last few minutes of class to list everything we did during break. Well, not everything, I mean, I'm a teen, I had phone service, let's just leave it at that. "Well, since we're already together, wanna walk to the gym together?" Oikawa asked, extending his arm like a true gentleman. I hooked my arm through his. Even Oikawa had his moments. "Why thank you," I said like I was royalty. "My pleasure," Oikawa responded, giggling. His giggle was so fucking cute. Wait, what? Since when did I find his giggle cute? Oh, well, just don't think about it, I have a practice to get to. Just as expected, as soon as the two of you left the English classroom, you were met with Oikawa's lady followers, or as Iwa and I called them, the Trash Cans. I can't even remember how the hell that nickname really came to be, but Iwa and I certainly found it funny. Oikawa just held me closer to him and kept walking to practice. He didn't want me to get pushed away from him by some of the more aggressive Trash Cans. "Sorry about that," Oikawa said slightly embarrassed. "It's okay, it isn't your fault they're obsessive," I reassured him. The two of us made the rest of the way to practice just walking, after the two of us had fallen into a comfortable silence. "After practice, did you maybe wanna go to the café and work some more on the project?" Oikawa asked. Almost seeming nervous. "Sounds good to me, as long as you don't feel too tired after practice, I don't want you to overwork yourself, Trash-Kun," I joked. "I'm gonna come up with a nickname for you one day, and you're gonna regret calling me Trash-Kun all these years," Oikawa deadpanned as we reached the gym doors. "You get back to me on that one when you think of something," I patted Oikawa on the shoulder as I walked toward the bench to set down my bag and prepare for practice. "Oh I will," Oikawa muttered to himself. Practice was going well, we only had about 40 minutes left. The team was currently working on serves, and my job was to gather up all the volleyballs that had been served and put them back in the basket where they could be served again. The only problem was that I were trying to do this in between serves. I had been doing this forever, so I had gotten used to dodging stray volleyballs, and to date I had never been hit. "L/N-CHAN, DUCK!!!!" was the last thing I heard Oikawa say before I felt a volleyball collide with the side of my head. I had been caught off guard, so the ball took me to the floor. "Oh my god, L/N-Chan I am so sorry," I hear Oikawa say, running over to me along with Iwa and Matsukawa. "It's fine, I'm fine," I brought myself up into a sitting position, my legs stretched out in front of me. "At least the ball hit the top of the met before hitting you in the head, that slowed it down a lot," Matsukawa explained, relived I wasn't hurt. "L/N, your nose is bleeding!" Iwa exclaimed, grabbing a nearby towel and holding it to my nose. "Yeah, I hit my face off the floor, so don't worry Trash-Kun, this isn't from you hitting me," I explained, patting a pale Oikawa on the shoulder to reassure him. "Okay, okay, but you're not doing anything else today. Go sit on the bench and get your nose to stop bleeding, and I'll walk you home after practice. "Oh alright," I said, getting up and walking to the bench, Iwaizumi still holding the towel to my nose as you walked. "Iwa-Chan, stay with L/N-Chan and hold the towel until she stops bleeding," Oikawa ordered once you reached the bench. "Trash-Kun, I can hold my own towel," I told the captain. "Well, as team captain, I say Iwa-Chan is gonna hold the towel, end of story," Oikawa said in a more commanding voice. "Fine," I sigh, just sitting there while Iwa held the towel under my nose. Oikawa walked back over to where I had fallen and began wiping up the blood from my nose that had spilled on the gym floor. "Thanks for holding the towel, Iwa-Chan," I smiled at the boy. "No problem, L/N-Chan, as long as you're okay," Iwaizumi smiled back. I was lucky all the boys were so protective and caring towards me. One time, they even helped chase off a second year that was always following me around. Practice ended immediately and the boys took to cleaning up the gym. That didn't take as long as it usually did, everyone just wanted to hurry home I guess. "I'm fine, you don't have to hold the towel anymore. I stopped bleeding a while ago," I told Iwa-Chan. "Wait why did I hold this towel for so long then?" Iwa asked me. "Well, would you rather have practiced?" "Oh my god, L/N, you are a fucking god send," Iwa engulfed my in a huge hug. "Why the hell do you still call me L/N?" I laughed, hugging him back. "I dunno, you just never told me otherwise," Iwa shrugged. "Well, I've known you since forever, so call me Y/N, ya dork," I flicked Iwa in the forehead. "Same goes for you Y/N, henceforth, it's Hajime to you," Iwa- Hajime said in a funny accent. "Sounds good, Hajime," I laughed "Alright, well, I'm gonna head off, but take it easy, short stuff," Iwa ruffled my hair, "and we're still on for dinner at the pizza place tomorrow right?" "Uh duh, you're my best friend, of course we're still on for our friend date," you giggled. "Okay, just making sure. How did I score so well in the best friend department?" Iwa smiled fondly. "Well I didn't do too bad either, 'Jime," "'Jime?" "Yeah, like Hajime, but just 'Jime. A new nickname," "Hmmmm," he acted as if he was thinking, " I like it." "Good, because I wasn't gonna stop calling you that," I laughed. "Alright, well I will see you tomorrow," Hajime booped my nose. "See ya then," I hollered as he walked out of the gym. Oikawa and I were the last to be there, he let everyone else go while he continued to make sure everything was in order. "All done?" I asked as Oikawa approached me. "Yep," he responded, picking up his bag and mine. "You don't have to carry that," I told him. "It's fine, Klutz-Chan," he giggled. "Klutz-Chan?" I perked one brow. "Well, you do seem to always get hurt. Last week, you fell down the stairs and got a black eye, at practice a few days ago, you tripped over your feet, three days ago, you nearly ran straight into a pole, but thanks to me pulling you out of the way, you didn't-" "Okay, alright, I get it," I slapped my hand over Oikawa's mouth, "What a shame, I was gonna start calling you Oikawa instead of Trash-Kun, but since you have a nickname for me...." "Noooo, please don't." "Well, fine, I give in," I laughed. "Now wait a damn second," Oikawa seemed like he was thinking. "What is it?" "You've known me just as long as you've known Iwa-Chan, if not longer, and you just started using his first name, why dont you use mine?" Oikawa gave me puppy dog eyes. "I dunno, just didn't think you'd want me to," I told him truthfully. "You're one of my best friends, of course you can use my first name," Oikawa told me, with a goofy smile on his face. "Well alright then, Tooru, let's get going to the café then," I said, starting to walk. "Wait, the café? I said I was taking you home, not to the café to work, L/N-Chan," Tooru scolded. "First- it's y/n now," I smiled sweetly, "and second, you know as well as I do that I don't like going home. Plus, I'll always take the chances I get to hang out with the volleyball master, Oikawa Tooru." "Okay, fine, but we are not going to the café to work, let's go get some take out for dinner or something," Tooru suggested. "Oh thank god, I am starving and was counting on the donuts at the café," I laughed, suddenly aware of my hunger. "Okay, now we can get going, Y/N." Tooru seemed to really like calling me by my first name. I liked using his too, but I'd deny it if I was asked. "Where are we going for food?" "I was thinking the ramen shop on the corner." "Oooooh, that's my favorite." "I know, why do you think I offered?" "Ah, you know me so well." We chatted about random things on the way to the ramen shop. When we got their, we ordered our regular orders and waited. We ordered it to go because Tooru's parents weren't home, they were gone for a week long trip. Tooru and I got take out all the time when his parents were out of town because he hated being alone. Iwa made jokes that were definitely not PG about me being over at Tooru's without supervision. Not like they paid any attention when they were home either. Tooru and I could literally suck faces in the same room and they wouldn't know. We walked to Tooru's and set up our food and such in the living room so we could watch a movie right after we ate. The two of us were pretty quiet as we ate, seeing as we were busy shoveling food into our mouths. "Okay, before we pick a movie, I wanna know what you did over break. That way we can say we worked on our project," Tooru smiled as he picked up the remote. "Alright, well, I spent most of my time with you and Iwa helping you practice, but other than that I spent most of my time in the treehouse reading," I thought of the treehouse we had all made out of whatever we could find in our garages when we were kids. I was out in the woods, so nobody could find it, but close enough to get service. "That's all you did? Really?" Tooru looked at me surprised. "Well, uh yeah," I blushed, thinking of the other things I had done in the treehouse during break. "You stayed there didn't you?" Oikawa asked me, concerned. "Yeah," I sighed, "You know I hate going home, it just seems empty without my sister there. And with everyone at the house being all depressed and shit, it doesn't help me mood," I explained. "Is that why you didn't want me to walk you home?" "Well, yeah, but I really did want to hang out with you. You are my best friend after all." "Why are you blushing?" "What?" "You're blushing. Why?" Well, I thought the blush would be gone by now. "Guess I'm flushed. Maybe I'm sick," I shrugged, playing innocent. "Must you lie to me, Y/N?" "I'm not-" "I've known you most of our lives, I know when you're lying." "It's private, and I don't wanna talk about it." "Oooooh, Y/N is having dirty thoughts isn't she?" Tooru teased. The blush grew. "Based on the fact that your face just got redder, I'm right." My face got even redder. "Yep, okay. Time to use this blush to my advantage. I'm gonna name names and that blush is gonna tell me exactly what I wanna know," Oikawa's confidence grew with each word. "Iwa?" Nothing. "Not Iwa, okay. Matsu?" Nothing. "Not him either? Hanamaki then?" Nothing. "Hmmm. OH MY GOD. Would it happen to be the one and only Oikawa Tooru?" he smirked. Shit, face, why you gotta give it away. "Oh? Me? Well I am flattered." I felt like crying. Despite his seemingly nonchalant act, he probably fucking hated me. Without warning, a few stray tears dripped down my cheeks. "Y/N, why are you crying? It's okay, talk to me." I was pulled into a deep hug by Tooru, who was letting me cry on his shoulder. "I just don't want you to hate me because I had those thoughts," I sniffled, looking up at the concerned boy. "Well Y/N, tell me this. Do you actually like me, or did you just have some dirty thoughts about me?" "At first, I just thought about you in some not so innocent ways, but recently I've been seeing you in a completely different way. I mean, before I just saw you as my annoying, and very attractive, best friend, but now when I look at you I see a really sweet guy that I think I have very strong feelings for." "That's okay, Y/N, I like you too, and I'll do whatever you need me to so you can figure out your feelings. I may be the person who's causing these confusing feelings, but I'm still your best friend and I'll do anything to help you," Oikawa explained, and that only made me like him more. Why the fuck does he have to be so sweet? "Let me kiss you," I said quietly. "Okay, whatever you need." I slowly separated from the hug and moved to sit on his lap. I didn't straddle him, just sat sideways on his lap. I sat there for the longest time, just looking at Oikawa's face. I watched how his eyes would look from my eyes to my lips and back again. I watched how his mouth moved as he inhaled through it and exhaled through his nose. I saw his smooth skin as I looked across his face to his hair. I slowly reached to grab his hand and place it on the side of my face so he was holding my head. His other hand was wrapped around the back of my waist, coming to rest at my hip. My hands now sat on his chest, tracing over the lettering on his shirt. "Oikawa Tooru, kiss me," I spoke, voice barely above a whisper. Tooru didn't hesitate to pull me in and place his lips on mine, both of us moving together perfectly. After what seemed like an eternity, we both pulled away and rested our foreheads together. "So what's the verdict?" Oikawa asked softly. "Well, it was more than just thoughts. I think it may even be more than a crush." "Well, if you're saying what I think you're saying, then I love you too," he whispered back. "I think you know my mind better than I do." "Well, duh, why else would you like me?" Tooru giggled that damn giggle again. "Oh, shut it," I leaned in to kiss him again. Maybe he wouldn't slow me down on this project after all. It is the reason we finally confessed.

Hope y'all like it, I needed some Oikawa fluff in my life. DOn't forget to suggest. As always, thanks for reading. -Smutty-Senpai

#oikawa #shittykawa #oikawa tooru #fluff #x reader #hq oikawa #tooru #trashykawa

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godofevrerything · 4 years

Text

Hell Rising Chapter Six: Rin

"Ivan, hurry up." I hissed.

"Hang on, Saundrine! I'm not as fast as you!" he panted.

I flicked his forehead, giving him a small shock. "I told you. Call me Rin."

He winced. "Okay. And you don't have to shock me."

"Yeah, I do." I scoffed.

We crept along the walls of the alley. There police cars around, so we had to be careful.

Bang

We jumped.

Ivan looked at me in fear. "W-what was t-t-that?"

I rubbed my hands together, making them spark. "Stay here."

"What!" he yelped. "N-no! I can't let you-"

I clamped my hand over his mouth. "Shhh! I can't let you come. I don't want you to get hurt, okay? Stay here, and if you don't hear me call for you in two minutes, then run."

He stared at me and then slowly nodded his head.

I went forward slowly, holding my breath. There was a thud, and a yelp.

I froze.

And then I jumped.

"Ahhhh!"

It was a girl. A blonde girl.

And then something, no, someone slammed into me.

Kicking, punching, pulling, pinching.

I couldn't tell if it was a wild cat or a toddler that attacked me.

"Rana! Rana, stop!" the girl screamed. "She's not going to hurt me!"

The girl rushed forward and pulled my attacker away.

It wasn't a wild cat.

Or a toddler.

Instead it was a girl about my age, with messy dark hair and bared teeth.

She stood in front of the blonde girl in a fighting stance. Her eyes were narrowed with suspicion, and fists clenched.

"Rana, it okay! She's not going to hurt me." Blondie said.

"That depends," I scoffed. "You gonna hurt me?"

"Was that a threat?" Rana growled.

"No. Just a fact." I sneered.

Her eyes flashed furiously. She stepped towards me, and every fiber of my body was suddenly on alert.

There was something about her that screamed danger. Maybe her posture, or wild hair.

No.

It was her eyes.

Bright brown, with something more sinister than anger in them. Her eyes were almost glowing.

For the first time in a while, I could feel sharp fear swirling inside of me as well as anger.

I balled my fists and brought them up.

Rana's head snapped to my hands. She paled suddenly, leaping back from the sparks.

Fear shone in her eyes.

I was confused. Most people were stunned and scared of my hands but they weren't, well, as terrified as she was.

I held out my hands. "Hey, calm down. I'm not going to hit you, don't worry."

She leapt back, crashing into the trash cans. Fear was radiating from her.

"Rana!" Blondie gasped.

Blondie raced over and pulled Rana up. Rana looked at me, breathing hard. She was shaking in fear.

"Look, I swear-"

"Rin!"

We all jumped. I slashed my hand out, whipping a rope of electricity at the intruder.

Ivan ducked, dropping to the ground.

"Ivan!" I gasped. "Don't do that! I could kill you!"

He peeked up at me. "But you didn't."

"Yet!" I sputtered.

"Ok, who the hell are you two? And why the hell are you guys even here?" Rana demanded.

I pulled Ivan up. "Well, it's a long story. And one that we won't tell you two."

"Umm, do we have to be so hostile?" Blondie asked. "How about we introduce ourselves?"

"Or how about we don't." Rana snapped. "And we both leave and forget we ever met each other."

"Sounds good." I snorted. "Come on Ivan, let's go."

"Wait!" Ivan yelped.

We frowned at him.

"Why can't we work together? I mean, groups are more successful than just two people. Twice the eyes and ears. Twice the safety." he explained.

I glanced at Rana. Her eyes were narrowed, thinking it over.

Meanwhile, Blondie was almost jumping in excitement at Ivan's suggestion.

"Rana, listen to him!" Blondie gasped. "He's right. Strength comes in numbers."

Rana turned her gaze to me. I looked back at her, and raised my eyebrow. She frowned.

"Look," I sighed. "We don't trust each other, that's obvious. But our friends have a point. There's strength in numbers. If you're willing to cooperate, then I'd like to become a group, even if it's just for a week or so."

I held out my hand to her.

Rana raised her chin. "Trust is important though. Without it, we'll crumble."

I shrugged. "You can leave any time you want."

She hesitated.

A police siren went off in distance, making us all jump.

"Choose quickly." I urged her.

"Fine. But only if you never use your powers against me." she relented. "Or around me, for the matter. Unless we're fighting officials or something."

I sighed. "Of course. That goes without saying."

She hesitated, and then reached out and shook my hand.

I nodded. "I'm Rin."

"Ivan!" Ivan said cheerfully.

"My name is Darcy." Blondie introduced herself, smiling.

"Rana." Rana said.

I gave her a small smile. "Great. Now let's get going before the police come over."

Thud

"Oof!" I yelped.

I shook my head and glared up at my opponent. "What the hell, Lanis?"

She grinned at me. "Sorry, I couldn't hear that!"

I got up and brushed off my pants. "Oh shut up. Don't play the helpless deaf girl, now."

She twirled her baseball bat. "I'm not playing anything. And you must be a damn moron to get beat by the so called helpless deaf girl."

I glared at her. "You caught me off guard and you know it."

Lanis grinned. "Officials aren't going to wait for you to pay attention. I thought you knew this stuff. I mean, you've been on the run for your whole life."

I scoffed. "Sometimes I get distracted."

Lanis's smile dropped. "Rin, you can't get distracted. I'm sorry that you and Rana fought, but if it's bothering you that much, then go talk to her. Come on, it's been three months."

I closed my eyes. "I won't. I don't have anything to apologize for. And anyway, she tends to spend all her time with Jae or Kamira."

Lanis rolled her eyes. "Kamira pretty much sees Rana as her role model, or hell, even an older sister. And Jae and her just click. If you don't like that your girlfriend is spending so much time with Jae, then resolve your argument and then talk about it."

I opened my eyes and groaned. "You say that like it's easy. For one, Rana needs to apologize. I refuse to speak to her until she does. Two, I don't mind her spending time with Jae."

Lanis raised her eyebrow. "Alright, Miss Rin. For one, you're pretty damn arrogant to not even speak to your girlfriend unless she apologizes. I hope you realize that she's just as stubborn and prideful as you are. Two, you sound pretty jealous of her and Jae."

"There is no her and Jae." I snapped.

"And here I thought you weren't jealous." Lanis snorted.

"I'm not. There's nothing to be jealous about, anyway."

"Mmhmm."

"Oh hush. Why don't you go make out with your boyfriend or something?"

Lanis laughed. "Marcus is out in a mission. He should be back later this evening. Then I'll make sure to make out with him."

I picked my staff up. "Yeah, go ahead."

Lanis chuckled. "I'll see you later."

I watched her leave the Arena, her advice rolling around in my head. Lanis gave good advice. And I did miss Rana.

I sighed and tossed my staff up in the air. Maybe I should talk to Rana.

"Hey."

I groaned. "Jae."

She laughed. "Aw, you didn't even have to turn. Have you memorized my voice already?"

"Hard not to memorize it when the damn thing constantly comes out of your mouth." I scoffed.

Jae glared at me. "You ought to wash your mouth out with soap."

"Why," I asked. "Nothing going to change. The truth doesn't get scrubbed out. Too bad I can't scrub out you."

"Why the hell are you so damn aggressive to me?" Jae snapped.

"Oh, haven't I made it clear? I don't trust you. For the few months that I've known you, you've made no attempt to speak to me civilly, you've been going so far as to avoid me, all the while going out of your way to talk to Rana. I don't know what you have against me, forgive me if I don't trust you." I spat.

She scoffed. "You've been aggressive to me from the moment we met."

"No," I sighed. "I was being cautious."

"Just sounds like you're jealous."

I gripped my staff tightly. "No."

She snickered. "Well, you should be."

I froze. "What is that supposed mean?"

"Well, Rana's just been telling me about how awful you make her feel. How you're always showing off, and never being considerate about what she's been through. You always complain about your mother. Not to mention that you're always using your powers, even though you know she was tortured by electrocution. Sounds to me that you're an awful girlfriend."

I glared at her. "You're lying."

She sighed. "Look, Rana didn't tell you any of this because she didn't want to burden you. You know she's like that."

"No, Rana would've told me if it was this bad." I snapped.

Jae folded her arms. "No, she wouldn't have. She bottles everything up until-"

"she explodes!" I yelled. "Yes, I know how she is. I know me girlfriend!"

"Evidently you don't!" Jae yelled back.

I flinched.

Jae groaned. "Look, I just wanted to let you know. I care about Rana. I know that she still loves you, and you love her. I'm not trying to steal her away. I just want what she deserves. And she deserves to be with you."

I narrowed my eyes. Jae stared back at me, her gaze open and honest.

I hesitated. "No, Rana,"

I paused. Jae did have a point. Rana has a tendency to bottle everything up. Then she'd go and rant to someone else about the problem. She did this with Darcy before, multiple times.

I looked up. "She really said that?"

Jae nodded. "Look, I'm going go grab a bite to eat. You decide on what you want to do. Good luck."

I watched her leave, a pot of uneasiness swirling in my stomach. Was she telling the truth? Did Rana really feel that awful around me?

I remembered the terror in her face when we met. And how she used to leap back from me. But that was four years ago.

But then I remembered her nightmares. How she would wake up, screaming and crying. How she physically couldn't sleep, her insomnia keeping her. The lat night talks. The dark circles under her eyes.

And how she still kept a small distance from me when I used my powers.

How she shuddered when I electrocuted an official.

And how she flinched when I accidentally shocked her, even in her sleep.

I looked down at my hands, tears building up. Did I still terrify her?

Maybe Jae was telling the truth.

But, my mother was a separate issue. I rarely spoke about her. Maybe one time for every fifty times that Rana spoke about the Facility.

Anger burned in me as I remembered our argument.

"It's not their fault that your mom was dumb enough to get roasted!"

How dare she. How dare she say that about Amma, and then go and complain to a stranger.

She could've spoke to Ivan or Darcy. Or better yet, me.

Jae...

Maybe she really was telling the truth.

It made sense.

I wiped the tears off of my face. Oh, hell yes I would confront her.

I tossed my staff to the wall and stormed out of the Arena. Oh, she was going to get it.

I walked into the mess hall, and people backed away from me.

I looked around, and spotted Rana sitting with Jae and Kamira. I went over, trying to keep a cool face.

"Rana?" I whispered. "Can we talk?"

Rana stiffened. "Hell no."

I froze. "Excuse me?"

She turned and glared at me. "You heard me. Hell no."

"Leave us alone." Kamira snapped.

I glared at her. "Hush. I wasn't talking to you."

Rana turned to me, standing up. "Don't talk to her like that."

I glared up at her. "We have to talk."

"We have nothing to talk about." she spat. "I've heard enough."

I frowned. "What you are talking about? We haven't talked in months."

She let out a hiss. "Fine. You want to talk? Follow me."

I sprinted after her, half pissed off and half confused. What did she mean by she's heard enough? I barely said two words to her.

We reached an empty corner of the main market. Rana whirled to me, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Well? You've got one minute."

"What's going on?" I asked. "You've never come around and apologized to me. And now you've been spilling everything to Jae? For Allah's sake, you're just spilling everything to Jae like you've known her for years!"

Rana scoffed. "She's easy to talk to. We just click. And anyway, that's no excuse for you to go around and talk about me to your new best friends."

"What?" I yelped. "I never did that."

"Sure you didn't." Rana sneered. "Don't act dumb, Saundrine. Jae told me everything. She told me that you've been complaining about me to Lanis and Marcus. Talking about how I'm so arrogant and dramatic."

"And you believe her!" I cried. "You barely know Jae! Rana, she's manipulating you!"

"Yeah right! Jae is one of my best friends!" Rana snapped. "Of course I believe her. But not like you would know anything about friendship. After all, you've drifted away from Ivan, Darcy and I. Not to mention that you bad mouth me to your new friends!"

"Now hang on," I yelped. "I've never bad mouthed you to anyone. Yeah, I've talked about the fight to Lanis. Sure, I've said that you can be overly aggressive and dramatic, but-"

Rana burst into laughter. "Well obviously you don't know what bad mouthing means! Because that's exactly what you've been doing! Now if you'd excuse me, I'm going to go talk to some people who actually don't think that I'm overly aggressive and dramatic!"

"Rana!" I yelled.

I jumped in front of her, blocking her path. She froze, glaring down at me.

"Look, just listen-"

She clamped her hand over my mouth.

"Hush! You hear that?"

I froze.

And I could hear it.

Yelling. Stomping. Crying.

From the mess hall.

Rana took off. "Come on! They aren't this loud unless something bad happened!"

I ran after her.

When we came into the mess hall, it was chaos. Everyone was screaming, some people were even crying.

I made out some words.

Help Oh my God Officials Attack

I paled. Oh no.

We pushed our way to the front of the crowd. There was Jae and Rocco standing in the front, with a boy.

No, a man.

Bleeding, with his wheat colored hair messed up and clothes ripped.

It was Marcus.

"Marcus!"

Lanis raced past me and grabbed Marcus, her eyes wide. "Oh my God! Are you okay? What happened? Where does it hurt? Why are you bleeding so much? Who did this to you?"

Marcus yelped in pain. "Nothing! Doesn't matter."

"I beg to differ!" Lanis shrieked. "What the hell happened?"

"Wait," I hissed. "Where's Ivan?"

"Rin! Rana!"

Ivan came barreling at us. He scooped me and Rana up in tight hug.

"Can't breathe!" Rana sputtered.

He set us down, his eyes wide with concern.

"Are you two alright? You didn't get hurt, did you?" Ivan demanded.

"We're fine." Rana muttered.

We looked him up and down, checking for any injuries. Luckily, he seemed fine.

I exhaled in relief.

"Darcy!" Rana gasped.

She whirled around, panic suddenly filling her eyes. Her body shook, swiveling her head around, looking for Darcy.

"Get out of my way! Rana!"

Rana sprinted towards Darcy's voice, her eyes wide. Darcy came bursting out of the crowd, gasping loudly. I watched Rana hug her tightly.

"Oh my God! Are you okay?" Darcy gasped. "You aren't hurt, right? I can't lose you now. I refuse to lose another sister!"

"I'm fine, I'm fine." Rana mumbled. "More worried about you? Are you okay? Did anyone hurt you? I'll kill them if they did!"

"I'm okay. Just a couple of bruises, don't worry." Darcy answered.

Rana checked her over again, relief filling her face. She crushed Darcy into another tight hug, and Darcy squeezed her back with even more force.

"Darcy!" Ivan yelled.

He charged forward, and swept her up in a tight hug. She laughed loudly, hugging him back.

"It's okay Ivan. I'm okay." Darcy laughed.

Ivan set her down. "You sure?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Don't worry."

"So you didn't get hurt?" I called out.

Darcy turned to me. "Yeah, I'm fine. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I sighed.

"Rin was with me." Rana added. "She didn't get hurt."

"As touching as that is," Jae yelled at us. "We need to know what in the fresh hell happened to Marcus!"

We turned to Marcus.

He was breathing heavily, looking like he just ran a marathon. Lanis had her arm wrapped around him, supporting her boyfriend's weight as best as she could. I noticed that most of the bleeding came from cuts on his face, save the blood dripping from his arm and the cuts on his stomach.

At Jae's shout, he looked up. Marcus's eyes were focused, and he pulled himself up to his full height, barely even wincing. I knew he'd be alright.

"The Admin's men were chasing me." he said. "They're coming to the Haven."

"What?" Rana croaked.

Her face lost all of its color at Marcus's statment. I reached out to hold her hand, but she stepped back, terror filling her eyes.

"Rana?" Darcy asked. "Rana, it's going to be okay."

Rana let out a strangled laugh. "Okay? No it won't! They'll come in, guns blazing, and they'll kill us all! Or worse, we'll meet Ricker!"

She took another step back, her body shaking. She was smiling, but it was shaky and painted on. Her eyes were wild with fear. She looked like a rabid animal.

"Rana," I whispered. "Rana, look at me. He won't hurt you."

Her eyes darted me, breathing hard.

She was about to have a breakdown.

"Liar." Rana gasped. "I can't trust you!"

I flinched.

"Somebody calm her down." Lanis whispered.

"Rana, it okay." Darcy breathed out. "It's going to be okay. We evaded him countless of times, remember? And I'm here. Ivan and Rin are here."

She went over to Rana and reached out, putting her arm around Rana cautiously.

Rana looked up. "Really? Are you telling the truth?"

"Yes." Darcy whispered. "Yeah, trust me. We won't let him hurt you."

Rana stared at her, and then slowly relaxed a bit.

"We're here." Ivan reassured her.

Rana's met mine.

I steeped forward and gave her a smile.

She looked away from me, focusing on Darcy, Ivan and Jae.

Her expression melted into calmness.

"You okay?" Marcus asked.

She nodded. "Yeah. Don't worry about me."

Lanis looked at her carefully. "You sure?"

She nodded again, suddenly turning to Marcus.

"Marcus, are you sure that the officials were chasing you?" Rana asked.

"Yes." Marcus answered.

"There you all are!"

We turned.

Rocco came running over, pulling Kamira behind him

Kamira yanked away. "Jae! Lanis! Rana! Are you guys okay?"

"We're fine." Jae chuckled.

"Everyone else?" Kamira asked.

We all nodded.

"I'm more worried about you." Rocco gasped.

Kamira glared at him. "For the hundreth time Rocco! I. Am. Fine!"

Rocco opened his mouth, but Rana spoke.

"We need to everyone out. We have to split up and move everyone out as soon as possible."

"Agreed. Rocco, you get the people in the front half of the mess hall. Move them down one of the paths. Get them on the move to another city, now." Jae ordered.

"Marcus, you get the people in the back half of the mess hall. Move them in a separate direction from Rocco." Rana added. "We have to spread out."

"I'll get the people in the market on the move." Lanis volunteered.

"What!" Marcus yelped. "No, you have to stick with me!"

"No, I don't." Lanis snapped. "I'll be fine, Marcus. Don't worry about me."

"But-"

"I'll be fine. You need to worry about yourself."

Marcus pulled his shirt up and wiped the blood form his face. When he was done, I could see that most of the blood must've come from the cuts around his eyebrows.

"I'll be fine." Marcus sighed. "But Lanis-"

Guys." Rana snapped. "Get the dramatic goodbye over with. We have to go, now."

"I'll be fine." Lanis said.

She kissed his cheek briefly, and then murmured something in his ear. Marcus nodded, and then they both ran off to their posts.

"Alright." Jae sighed. "Rana, you get-"

"The people in the training grounds. You get the people in the arena, Jae. Rin, you get the people in the infirmary, okay?" Rana ordered.

"What about me?!" Kamira demanded.

Rocco grabbed her shoulders. "You're sticking with me, sis. I won't lose you."

"No! I'm going to help. Rana, Jae, tell him!" Kamira cried.

"Rocco, she can lead the people in the houses." Rana said. "I know she's young, but Kamira has made a name for herself. We're out of adults to lead, and Kamira is respected."

"No." Rocco spat. "She's my little sister. She will stick with me."

"No, I won't." Kamira growled. "You can't make me."

Rocco glanced from Kamira to Rana to Jae. Kamira and Rana were both glaring. Jae gave him a sharp nod.

"Fine." Rocco hissed. "But if she gets hurt, I will personally kill you all."

"I will be okay." Kamira scoffed. "I'll see you soon."

She sprinted through the crowd and out of the mess hall.

"Look," I snapped. "I'm going with Rana. Someone else can take the infirmary. I refuse to leave Rana with Jae."

"Saundrine Iago!" Rana yelled. "Now is not the time for your damn rivalry! Get going, innocent people's lives are at stake, for Gods sake!"

"It's not a rivalry! And someone else can handle them. Can't you see what's happening? Jae's mani-"

"All I can see is that people are in danger and you're refusing to help them." Rana spat.

"I-"

"I'll take care of it." Jae volunteered.

"What? No, you're already covering the Arena. Saundrine, get over with your tantrum and cover the infirmary, now. You don't have a choice." Rana spat.

"She shouldn't help if she doesn't feel the need to." Jae scoffed.

"Excuse me? Of course I feel the need to help those people. It's jus-"

"Then act on that need."Rana interrupted. "Do something instead of standing there and throwing a fit."

"We'll go." Darcy volunteered. "Ivan and I can handle it."

"Yeah." Ivan agreed.

"Thank God." Rana exhaled. "Because somebody refuses to."

She glared at me.

"We got it." Ivan nodded.

Darcy gave Rana a tight hug. "Promise me that you'll be okay."

Rana nodded. "I'll be okay. We'll see you guys soon."

"You too, Rin." Ivan demanded.

I smiled. "I'll be fine. You guys take care of each other."

Ivan hugged me and then Rana. Darcy gave me a quick hug. They stepped back and smiled at us both.

And just like that, my friends were gone.

"Come on." Rana told Jae. "We got to go."

They took off.

I ran after Rana. "Wait!"

She didn't answer.

I grabbed her hand. "Rana, hang on!"

She yanked her hand away. "Don't touch me. You've changed, and I don't like it. I don't know what happened, but as of now, I don't really care. I don't know who you are now, and I don't trust you. Touch me again, and I'll make you break your own wrist."

I stared at her in shock.

But it didn't matter.

Rana has already disappeared.

#Hell Rising #original story #dystopian

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