#Like it was so jarring and uncomfortable till I noticed what was off

[lavender-descendentheart]

He ha this poster made her seem SIGNIFICANTLY more powerful and important then she actually ended up being ya know got wiped by wukong and then later does absolutely nothing while being dumbed down then dies after getting a hint of backstory that was interesting and had a chat yep

no I’m not sad or angry shut up I’m not crying as I’m writing this nope

why did they have to make her look cool in this? She did nothing!

[ceilidho]

prompt: price/reader bear shifter fic. PART 3. (part 1 here) (part 2 here)

-

The man at your till is making you feel increasingly uncomfortable. 

He’s a stocky man, not quite as imposing as John, but still big. He’s particularly unnerving because the man has been standing by your till for the past few minutes without having anything in his hands. No basket in sight. Not a rutabaga or a bushel of carrots or even a single jar of olives.

It’s as if he just blew in off the street; dark hair mussed from the wind, shabbily dressed for the winter as if the cold weren’t even an issue for him. The intensity of his stare makes your skin crawl though, and it’s even worse when he decides to strike up a conversation with you. 

It’s like he only came into the shop to stare at you and make creepy, suggestive comments. Laswell comes out from the back when his presence starts to make even the other customers uncomfortable, but all that does is relegate him to the parking lot, where he’s free to loiter and stare at you through the window all he wants. 

You delay the inevitable for almost half an hour because you keep talking yourself out of calling John. It’s not like you’re not familiar with each other by now—he’s taken you to diners and cafés, and you’ve brought him tupperware filled with stew and casserole on the days when you’ve watched him slump up the steps of his front porch, looking haggard and about to fall on his face—but it feels intrusive. A favour you wouldn’t normally ask of him. It almost feels like you’re using him, actually. 

Still though, after some time you almost feel like you don’t have a choice. You either call John or the police, and the latter option is vastly more unappealing. Then you’d really be causing a ruckus for nothing. 

Since your phone is stored under the desk by the till, you take a second in between customers to dial John’s number, listening to it ring with your back to the window. That makes your shoulders tense up even more, acutely aware of two eyes burrowing into the back of your neck. The anxiety puts a cramp in your belly until you hear John pick up.

“John,” you whisper into the phone, hand cupped around the receiver. There’s static on the other end before you hear him grumble your name. “Are you—is this a bad time?”

“No, s’good a time as any,” he says, voice thick and heady. “What’s the matter, honey?”

The sound of his voice makes you shiver like it always does, but the effect is muted under the droning of your anxiety. Like a pale imitation of its usual force. 

“I just was wondering if—would you mind coming down to the shop for a bit?” 

“What for? Need help stocking the shelves?” he asks, still lighthearted. Maybe you’re keeping your cool just a bit too well because he hasn’t yet detected the undercurrent of fear making your voice almost tremble. You glance over your shoulder again and shudder when you see the same man still loitering in the parking lot, eyes locked on you. When he smiles, it’s mean. 

“Actually I—I hope this isn’t rude but there’s…this guy’s been hanging around outside for a bit and…” you start, then stop to chew on your lip. “Well, he’s really starting to freak me out.”

You can almost hear him straighten up on the other end. “What’s that?”

Now his tone makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You’ve never heard him sound like this before—alert all of a sudden, a hard edge to his voice that you might have associated with his work persona if you’d ever seen it before. It fills you with comfort and worry all at once. 

“He came in earlier and he was…well, he kind of came in looking confused and then—I think he noticed me looking at him strangely or something, which I—well, I don’t think I was making like, a weird face or anything, but—”

“Did he say anything to you?” John asks, cutting you off. 

You cup your hand even more around the phone so it muffles your words. “He said I smell…fecund? I don’t even know what that means, but…”

He goes silent for a moment before he speaks again. At first, you think he sounds almost calm, but you clock the way his breathing pattern abruptly changes. “I’ll be there in a few. Don’t move, honey.”

He hangs up before you’re able to say another word. You hold the phone to your ear for another couple of seconds before your eyes inevitably dart back to the window, where the other man is still staring at you, his upper lip curled. 

You try your best to focus on your job, checking each new customer out while steadfastly avoiding looking out the main window. It wouldn’t do you any good anyway. In your peripheral vision, you see the dark shadowy form of the man still leaning against his car, eyes still trained on you. It won’t be dark for another hour or so, but the fact that your shift only ends when it’s well past the daylight hours makes your hands tremble when you scan a container of hummus. You mess up the code for artichoke three separate times.

You don’t see the moment John pulls into the parking lot, but you hear the commotion and your head whips around just in time to see him dragging the other man into the woods behind the grocers, one big arm wrapped around his neck. He’s somehow bigger than the man you’d thought towered over you, making his struggle seem pointless as he's dragged off by John. 

It’s over so quickly that when the two of them disappear past the treeline, you almost think you imagined it for a second. Then another second goes by and you find John’s car haphazardly parked in the lot, the door still open. At least he managed to turn it off.

“Kate, did you—” you say, turning towards when you remember last seeing her restock the boxed panettone display only to find your manager standing in front of your till, staring out the same window as you. 

“Shit,” she says, blinking. A bit awed. “Never seen John that mad before.”

“He’s, uh—I called him because that guy wouldn’t leave. I thought maybe he’d…I don’t know what I thought he’d do, honestly.”

“You know, we could’ve called the sheriff.”

You don’t want to admit that your first thought was always John. Not the police. “Oh. I guess.” 

The two of you keep staring out the window. Neither man emerges from the treeline. 

“Should I—”

“Don’t even think about suggesting that you go check on him. He’s a grown man and you’re still on the clock.”

“Got it,” you mumble, a bit peeved.

Kate looks at you from the corner of her eye. “Besides, John’ll have my head if he finds out I let his favourite cashier chase after him into the woods where he just dragged off a man harassing her.”

“He wouldn’t do that—”

You’re cut off when a customer waiting at your till clears their throat, forcing you to leave your station at the window. Kate’s smug smile haunts you while you ring the impatient customer up. She heads back to her office before you’re able to say your piece, leaving you to stew in silence.

There aren’t usually many customers in the middle of a random weekday, so you have nothing to do except stare out the window and fret. Your heart skips a beat any time the trees sway with the breeze. Another customer gives you a bit of a hassle over a two-for-one deal that your scanner didn’t pick up and you almost snap at them. 

You finally make the decision to leave your till when the trees rustle and your heart stops for a second before John steps back out into the parking lot, looking dishevelled but no worse for wear. His hat is gone. There’s a nasty cut on his lip and it seems like his shirt has been fully ripped open, exposing a wide, hairy chest and two thick pectorals. You do not stare at the way the hair on his chest whorls around his brown nipples. 

His eyes are locked on you through the window and his brows furrow when he watches you jog to the doors. When they slide open, you hear him shout from across the lot, “Back inside.”

“I can—”

“Get back inside.”

You pout, but listen, taking a step back in and letting the doors shut with a whoosh. You wait anxiously on the balls of your feet until they slide open again when John finally crosses the parking lot in only a few short seconds. He zips up his coat before coming inside, depriving you of the view. You have to school your face so that your pout doesn’t deepen.

“Are you okay—” you ask when he steps into the grocery store, but no one in this town seems to be able to let you finish a sentence because he cuts you off almost immediately.

“Where’s Laswell?” he asks, almost rhetorically because he sidesteps you after a brief touch to your chin to tilt your head up, eyes tracking across your face as if looking for something to rile him up even more. “Kate.” 

You shush him when you trail after him towards the back where Kate’s office door is wide open. His voice carries on a good day; after his tussle out in the forest, it seems to boom across the store, drawing curious eyes. You smile weakly.

“Busy today?” It’s the first thing out of his mouth when he reaches the door of Kate’s office. Her chair is already turned to face him, arms crossed over her chest and blonde hair pulled up into a tight bun.

“It’s normal,” Kate says, almost like a challenge. “Business as usual.”

“Good. I’m taking your cashier home then. That gonna be an issue?”

Kate rolls her eyes. “I’m trembling. You didn’t get all of this out with the other guy? Still need a good fight?”

“Please, John, I can stay—I’m really sorry about all of this,” you say, turning from John back to Kate, a bit frazzled now that it’s sunk in. A faint tremor works its way through you. You don’t even realize the way you unconsciously grip John’s jacket, anchoring yourself in place. 

“Honey, we’re going home,” John stresses, fitting a hand against your low back, drawing you a bit closer. You move into him without a thought, like a natural pull. 

Kate’s eyes soften when she meets yours. “It’s fine, I can cover the till for the rest of the afternoon. John’s right—just go home. I still know how to work a register, you know.”

He doesn’t let you stay a moment longer to argue or insist that you stay and cover your shift. He sweeps you out the door with a warm hand still low on your back, letting you briefly grab your coat and bag before hustling you to his car. It’s freezing inside from the wide open door, so he blasts the hot air until you slump into the passenger seat, the heat lulling you into a stupor. 

The drive back home—whatever home at this point means—is long. Part of you wonders whether he’ll drive you to work tomorrow to pick up your car or if you’ll be forced to take a bus, but it isn’t the time or place to be thinking about those things. 

“What’d you do with him?” you mumble, turning your head to stare at the side of his face. The cut of his jaw is hard, obscured somewhat by the beard growing in heavy with the winter, but deeply masculine like something out of an old western. You think you’d happily count every bristle without complaint if he let you.

“Taught him to mind his manners,” John says. The answer is short, to the point. It makes you tremble. 

“Like, to respect women?”

He turns his head to look over at you. It’s just for a moment, brief in the grand scheme of things, but it feels significant. Pointed. Sustained. “To not touch what isn’t his.”

The truck never so much as wavers on the road.

[tafeekafee]

⌛⛰️ Hold me tight

Title from Paradigm (ATEEZ)

Summary: San sits out during filming for a stomach ache … turns out it’s not just a stomach ache…

CW: emeto, pain, diarrhea (mentioned), ambulance, hospitals, hospital equipment 

Sickie: San Caretaker: Seonghwa + Yunho + Hongjoong

San stood in front of the mirror, mustering his outfit for the new WANTEEZ episode. He couldn’t deny that the navy shirt and the black pants looked nice together like the stylist noona had pointed out. She seemed very proud of her work and San was sure that ATINY would like the look.

That didn’t mean that he didn’t feel like tearing off both clothing items. They were suffocating. He was already sweating under all of it and for once he nearly wished for one of his revealing stage outfits. At least they were cool. Additionally, the waistband of the pants was pressing into his bloated stomach and it was uncomfortable.

San had woken up feeling less than amazing that morning and it had just gotten worse. The drive to the filming location had taken all his will to live, sandwiched between Wooyoung and Yeosang who had been squabbling all the way. He supposed he should have been glad he wasn’t in the other car, apparently Yunho had gotten really motion sick and San was sure - that while normally not easily sympathy sick - he would have followed suit in puking up his meager breakfast. 

Needless to say, he was not feeling up to filming.

But he was an idol and life needed to go on. Even if he was feeling awful and the pain in his stomach was not getting better. 

“You okay?”, Seonghwa asked, coming up to him and whispering in his ear.

San nodded, looking up at his hyung. “I’ll be fine.”

“So you’re not fine right now?”, Seonghwa said, raising his eyebrow in a way that meant that the elder would have an eye on him for the rest of the day. Damn perceptive hyung. San just hadn’t wanted to lie but well, that’s what he got for being honest.

“Just a small stomach ache, hyung”, San answered reluctantly, “I ate some snacks last night, I think that was a bad move.”

Seonghwa stared at him like he knew that San had just lied to his face, twice. The stomach ache was not just small. And he hadn’t eaten snacks last night, in fact he had gone to bed early and slept through his alarm until Mingi had come banging against his door and complaining that he should turn off the obnoxious sound. Seonghwa had been at Hongjoong’s dorm till late, apparently, so he hadn’t had a chance to notice his dongsaeng going to bed suspiciously early. 

Then their eldest nodded. “Tell me if you need something.”

“I won’t”, San said, crossing his fingers behind his back for good measure, and as Seonghwa’s eyes widened, he quickly added: “Need anything, I mean.”  

It looked like Seonghwa wanted to say something more but they were called to the set.

⌛

Their MC for the day was Hongjoong - annoyingly observant Hongjoong who now would be preoccupied with hosting today and would not be able to notice if something was up with San. Small mercies.

“Today, we are going to have secret pirate missions”, Hongjoong announced, causing some of them to cheer and the others to groan, “everybody will draw a lot and read their mission. If the mission is not complete by the end of the hour, the ones who didn’t make it have to do penalties, decided by the ones who managed to do their mission. Understood?”

They chorused their agreement and Hongjoong was given a jar by the filming crew, walking around to let every member draw a gold piece of paper.

Seeing the reaction on every members face when they read their missions was likely hilarious and San did try to laugh along with them but he quickly gave up doing more than smiling. Every laugh sent a stab through his abdomen, the pain getting worse. Seonghwa looked gleefully, while Yeosang and Mingi seemed confused. Yunho seemed to already be scheming, as did Wooyoung. Both Hongjoong and Jongho groaned when reading their missions, causing laughter of schadenfreude to ring through the room. San furrowed his eyebrows as he read his mission: Walk like Jack Sparrow at all times without anybody pointing it out.  He was probably in luck - that didn’t sound half bad. Actually, maybe he would get away with not walking at all.

Then Hongjoong took back the mic and read out his script: “There will be a special mission: Find the captain patch. If you do, the other missions are over. Whoever finds it … gets to be captain for today?” He looked up to stare at the director incredulously. “This is mutiny!”

Wooyoung instantly started to cackle loudly, joined by Yunho and Seonghwa. San could have sworn he heard Mingi whisper: “Finally.”

“The clock starts now!”, the director called, probably scared of Hongjoong, and instantly the group scattered. 

San waited until everybody was gone and awkwardly walked into the pirate ship themed house. The way that Jack Sparrow walked, while distinctive, was pulling at his stomach and causing unnecessarily pain. He distracted himself by scanning the first room. Mingi was searching through a cabinet but otherwise it was empty. San walked further inside and turned to the right where he found a sofa, in a small half-hidden alcove. Perfect.

As quickly as he could handle he walked over and sat down carefully, hoping that sitting down would not hurt. It didn’t - much. He grabbed the first pillow he could find and pressed it to his stomach. It seemed to help the pain a bit. 

It was really perfect here, if he was honest. He didn’t need to walk. The pillow helped the pain. He might not find the captain patch that way but he didn’t want to be captain anyway. Not having to do the penalty the other members thought of was his main focus.

He had to admit that the set was really impressive - it looked like an old pirate ship all with nooks and alcoves, small decorative details that made it all the more realistic. For the fun part there were crocheted kraken plushies scattered through the room and San didn’t doubt that the other rooms would have their own secret. San wished he felt well enough to explore them.

He stayed sitting there until the cameraman, who he had forgotten had followed him, hesitantly spoke up. He was a new guy, so San wasn’t really familiar with him. “San-ssi? Shouldn’t you like walk around and look for the patch? It’s going to be boring if you just sit here.”

San shook his head. “That isn’t my mission”, he said and the cameraman nodded in agreement.

⌛

Despite his most fervent wishes that staying still might help, it did not. San wasn’t sure if the pain was getting worse or if now that he had nothing else to concentrate on made it even less bearable. Maybe it was a mix of both. Pressing the pillow against his abdomen helped for a bit but every time his grip loosened the pain got worse. 

He was even contemplating asking the director to sit out but he didn’t want to be a problem. Cutting a member out was always a hassle and he didn’t want to worry ATINY. 

Then Seonghwa came in. “Here you are, San-ah”, he said, then mustered him thoroughly. He knelt down beside San and took his hand in his. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

San nodded but apparently it wasn’t convincing at all.

“What’s the matter?”, Seonghwa asked, gesturing at the cameramen to stop filming. “Is your stomach still hurting?”

“...yeah”, San admitted, “it’s really not liking me, hyung.”

“Oh, poor you”, Seonghwa mumbled, tethering on the edge of babying him. San found he barely minded. “Do you want to sit out on filming? I’m sure we can work out something.”

“I don’t want to disappoint ATINY. This seems like it’s going to be a fun episode”, San reluctantly mumbled.

“ATINY cares more about your health. We can have a notice saying you weren’t feeling well today, or as long as you need. All of us have sat out during filming before. You know that the fans will be sad but worried, never disappointed”, Seonghwa said gently.

“I … okay”, San mumbled, “I really just want to sit and not be filmed.”

“Alright, come on.”

Carefully Seonghwa helped him to his feet. Never once did San let go of the pillow. It really was a comfort item at the moment, if he couldn’t have Shiber this needed to be enough. Seonghwa wrapped an arm around his shoulders and led San through the set. In the room San had passed through earlier, Wooyoung and Yunho were chasing and laughing at Jongho who was wearing a pirate hat and holding onto it for dear life. Hongjoong was … was he sporting a hand drawn eyepatch?

“What’s going on?”, the captain asked as they emerged, rushing over to meet them half-way.

“San-ah isn’t feeling so good, he’s going to sit out the rest of the filming”, Seonghwa explained. Hongjoong looked heartbroken - a stark contrast to his comically painted face - likely very worried, but nodded. He brushed back a strand of San’s hair and whispered: “Feel better, baby.”

“Thanks, hyung”, San mumbled and let Seonghwa pull him with him until they arrived in the crew room. Immediately they were swarmed by managers fussing over San. While it was a bit overwhelming it was also comforting. 

Seonghwa explained the situation again and the director quickly agreed to let San stay in there with a manager to watch over him. Seonghwa, however, was required to go back to filming. Five minutes later San was settled laying down on a couch, the pillow still in his grip and pain meds taken. Over a screen he was even able to watch the different cameras and a manager had even procured some crackers and plain food for him, even a cup of tea.

⌛

San was already half-asleep when the mission announcement came with a gleeful Wooyoung having won the captain mission. As Hongjoong reluctantly had to call him captain, he looked like he was biting on a lemon and regretting all his life choices. It was very funny and ATINY would love it, San was sure of it.

Then the secret missions were revealed, not one mention of San. His sudden missing would probably be edited in as a text notice. Despite feeling awful, San was interested in the reveals and with a groan he sat up to watch the screen.

The first one to hold out his piece of paper into the camera was Hongjoong. “I had to draw an eyepatch on a member”, the captain explained, “it never specified it couldn’t be me and I really don’t want to do the penalty. So my dignity, along with my title, is gone.” Yeosang and Jongho cheered, happy to see Hongjoong so defeated but Yunho protested that it was cheating. In the end, Wooyoung used his captain privileges to decide that Hongjoong had passed the mission, explaining he did not want to be in Hongjoong’s bad cards when he got his title back the next day. Well, even more than he already was.

Then it was Wooyoung’s turn, who had managed to put a gold coin sticker on every members’ phone, causing them to pull out their phones in astonishment. All except for Yunho who frantically started patting his pockets until Seonghwa pulled it out of his own pocket, causing yelling. Especially once Wooyoung realized that Seonghwa had peeled off the sticker, thinking it was Yunho’s mission. 

The eldest had successfully stolen something from every member. He held up Hongjoong’s hair clip, Yeosang’s hair tie, one of Mingi’s socks (which Mingu somehow hadn’t even noticed get stolen?), Wooyoung’s ring and Jongho’s Jjongbear keychain, causing the maknae to pout and try to steal his son back. Then, lastly, he pulled out one of San’s bracelets. Bastard. He hadn’t even noticed that that had been Seonghwa’s first move. Wooyoung quickly got used to his power surge and decided his own (since the sticker had been one the phone at some point) and Seonghwa’s mission a success.

Yunho, a bit annoyed but still happy enough, announced he had managed to turn around every pistol in every room but then he was shown a video of Jongho, who must have figured out his mission, turning them back. Wooyoung decided it was a failed mission, causing Yunho to shout in defeat and trying to argue that then Wooyoung’s mission was a failure too. But he was not captain.

Yeosang had not managed to initiate a sword fight between two members, so he, like Yunho would receive the penalty. Mingi also hadn’t found the secret treasure chest he was supposed to find and was the third to fail. 

Lastly, Jongho had indeed managed to wear the pirate hat for the right amount of time, he had already been at minute eight of ten of wearing the hat when he was discovered and had successfully defended his accessory for the next two minutes.

⌛

The rest of the filming San dozed on the couch, only waking up when he turned in his sleep which caused his stomach to twinge painfully. The pain meds hadn’t seemed to help. Once or twice, he thought Hongjoong and Seonghwa peaked in on him, but he wasn’t sure. At some point a manager woke him up to make him eat a bowl of soup but he was barely awake for that and quickly dozed off again.

San did wake up, however, when his shoulder was shaken gently. He couldn’t suppress the whine in his throat when his stomach was jostled. A hand came to rest against his forehead.

“He’s running a fever”, a voice whispered. 

“What are we gonna do?”, another voice asked.

“Management decided we don’t need to film tonight”, the first voice said, “let’s just get him to bed.”

At the promise of sleep on an actual bed, San opened his eyes.

“Hey, baby”, Hongjoong greeted, smiling at him gently. Even despite his grogginess and the disorientation San was able to spot the poorly hidden concern. “How are you feeling?”

“My stomach still hurts”, San admitted. There was no use in lying. “I don’t feel good, hyungs.” Behind Hongjoong Seonghwa waved at him, looking as worried as the captain, if not more.

“Hm, you’re also running a fever, San-ah”, Hongjoong said, “manager-hyung said he’ll take you to hospital tomorrow if you don’t feel better or if your fever gets higher than 38.6°C at some point.”

“Okay”, San mumbled, “can I sleep more now?”

“We need to go back to the house they rented for us. It’s a ten minute drive. Do you think you can handle it?”, Hongjoong asked.

“Anything to sleep”, San said, pushing himself upright. Immediately his stomach protested and he doubled over, pressing his arms against his abdomen. Oh, fuck, it hurt.

“You’ve been sleeping all day, San-ah, and you’re in pain”, Seonghwa said, then turned to Hongjoong. “Shouldn’t we bring him to the hospital now? That can’t be normal.”

San nearly hoped Hongjoong said ‘yes’.

“No, let’s … let’s wait. Going to the hospital is a big hustle and I don’t want ATINY to see him like this. Don’t worry, if he really needs to go, I’ll make it happen.”

⌛

The drive to the house was horrible. San sat flanked by his oldest hyungs, both of them holding onto him. He had his face buried in Seonghwa’s shoulder, despite the pain it brought, it brought more comfort. The street to the house was not in a good condition and the constant up and down left San on the verge of tears. 

By the time they arrived San looked at Seonghwa with pleading eyes and soon he was lifted into Yunho’s strong arms, his hyung holding onto him tightly. 

Settled down on the couch, Yunho didn’t leave his side, instead choosing to run his fingers through San’s hair. He had been tasked with sticking a thermometer into San’s mouth the moment they had arrived and now it beeped. 

“38.8°C, jeez, you’re not kidding around”, Yunho commented, putting it aside. “Hyungs said to keep you awake for now. You won’t be able to sleep through the night if you sleep all day.”

San doubted that. He was so tired. Next to the stomach ache and the fever that Seonghwa had easily diagnosed by laying his hand against San’s forehead in the car, he had acquired an unsettling feeling in his stomach that with his current state of being was a sure sign that something would want out of his body in either or both directions at some point. He already dreaded that, moving seemed too much of an effort. 

“But I’m so tired”, San whined. He was aware of how pitiful he sounded but he couldn’t care less. He just wanted to feel better now. 

“I know, kiddo”, Yunho mumbled, sounding a bit overwhelmed. Tears gathered in San’s eyes and before he could stop them they flowed down his hot cheeks. “Oh, San-ah, don’t cry, please.” 

San couldn’t help it though and more and more tears gathered in his eyes and then he was full-on crying. Yunho did his best to comfort him, cradling him as much as he could without hurting San, and wiping away the frustrated tears with the sleeves of his shirt. His whole body was shaking from the force of the sobs and it was starting to upset his stomach even worse. 

Oh no. San felt himself flush, embarrassment coloring his cheeks. Sure, they all had been sick in front of each other before but some things weren’t meant to be shared. Besides, he could already imagine how badly it would hurt. 

“Yunho, where are the others?”, he asked frantically.

Yunho frowned but quickly counted on his fingers: “Let’s see, Wooyoung-ah was tasked by Seonghwa to cook, I think he, Seonghwa and Yeosang are in the kitchen. Hongjoong and Jongho are preparing the rooms and Mingi is taking a shower, as far as I know.”

Shit.

“Do we have a second bathroom?”, San questioned, already pushing himself up. He was running out of time, his stomach cramping badly.

“Uh, I don’t know? I can get you a bucket?”, Yunho said, eyes wide.

“No, I need a bathroom”, San insisted, flushing and feeling more tears prickle at his eyes again.

“Oh. Oh, okay, come on”, Yunho said and quickly lifted San to his feet, guiding him into a hallway San hadn’t seen yet.

“Hyung?”, Yunho called and immediately Hongjoong stuck his head out of one of the rooms.

“Yunho-yah?”, he asked, then mustered San who had pressed himself into Yunho’s side. “San-ah, what’s…?”

“Is there a second bathroom?”, Yunho interrupted him, not caring about honorifics at all.

“Oh, no, I don’t think so?”, Hongjoong said, paling himself. He clearly understood what nobody said out loud. 

“Damn, okay, hold on, San-ah”, Yunho said and handed San over to their captain, Hongjoong holding onto San tightly. The younger could only curl up into himself, a hand on his stomach and begging that he could make it. Hongjoong whispered gentle reassurances at him but San was barely able to focus on anything but his stomach throwing a fit.

“Mingi, get the fuck out of the bathroom now”, Yunho called and pounded on the door, “and I mean now, it’s San-ah.”

To their utmost relief Mingi seemed to have just finished his shower as the door unlocked not ten seconds later and he hurried out, dripping water everywhere and hastily wrapping a towel around his waist. 

San didn’t have it in him to wait any longer and pushed past the stunned members, fumbling to lock the door before his stomach revolted.

⌛

Twenty minutes later he dragged himself out of the bathroom, Seonghwa waiting for him, sitting on the floor by the entrance to the living room. San leant against the hallway wall, his hands pressed against his cramping stomach and just blinked at his hyung. He was so drained and his whole body was in shut-down mode. He was covered in sweat, the humid heat of an after-shower bathroom not helping his situation at all, and ready to collapse to the floor and just pass out. He was so exhausted he couldn’t even really feel embarrassed anymore though Seonghwa’s presence itself was a confirmation that all members knew how he had suffered. 

“Hey, baby”, Seonghwa said and jumped to his feet, not hesitating to wrap San in his arms despite how disgusting he himself felt. 

“Hyung”, he whined, pressing his face into Seonghwa’s chest, taking comfort in the way Seonghwa rubbed his hand up and down his spine.

“You’re so sick”, the eldest mumbled, worry oozing from his words. “The managers will take you to the hospital if you want to go, Hongjoong called them. Your fever is higher than we expected and you’re so unwell.”

If he had the capacity, San would have broken down at that statement. The members knowing was one thing but management? He liked the managers a lot but it was still a sensitive issue. Now, all he could do was shake his head against Seonghwa’s shoulder.

“I just want to sleep, hyung. Can I go tomorrow if I don’t feel better?”, he asked, biting his lip. He didn’t think he could handle a hospital trip at all. All the waiting, sitting around on uncomfortable chairs, prodded by nurses and doctors alike and given medication via an IV he didn’t want? All of that without one of his hyungs by his side? No, he couldn’t do it.

“Yeah, we can do that”, Seonghwa said, sounding a bit unhappy with San’s decision, “or if you feel like you need to go tonight, we’ll make it happen.”

“Thanks, hyung.”

Seonghwa pulled away from him and pressed a gentle kiss against San’s head. “You don’t have to thank me, baby. Come on, let’s go sit down.”

⌛

Once he was placed on the couch again, sandwiched between Seonghwa and Yunho, Hongjoong appeared from the kitchen where Yeosang, Wooyoung, Mingi and Jongho apparently were eating. He was carrying a bowl of soup and San felt himself pale. While his lower stomach had calmed down, nausea had taken its place and he didn’t feel up to eating. At all.

“I’m not hungry”, San mumbled, eyes slipping shut. He was so tired, eating and fighting nausea were too much of an effort. Yunho, having seen how tightly San had hugged the pillow earlier, handed it back to him and San curled over it, the pressure relieving some of the pain. While it was just a random pillow stolen from a random set it was the cuddle buddy he had, Shiber still tucked in San’s bed back at the dorm.

“Please, San-ah, just a few bites”, Hongjoong said, close to begging. His eyes were shining from worry and he was speaking in a tone of voice more appropriate for shy baby animals.

“Hyungie”, San pleaded, voice breaking. He didn’t want to eat.

“San-ah, baby, you need nutrients. You barely ate anything today and you're losing too many fluids with the sweating and … your stomach issues”, Seonghwa insisted, brushing back a strand of San’s hair. “Please.”

“Okay”, San agreed. He wanted to fight his hyungs even less than he wanted to eat.

The relieved atmosphere didn’t hold on long. The moment Seonghwa lifted a spoon to San’s lips and the soup flowed into his mouth, San’s body took over control. The salty taste of the light broth was enough to trigger his gag reflex and he heaved. Nothing came up, his stomach not  triggered enough but the soup in his mouth dribbled down his chin partly onto Seonghwa’s hand.

The oldest quickly pulled away, mindlessly wiping his dirtied hand on his trousers. It was, after all, just the soup San hadn’t even managed to swallow down and Seonghwa had dealt with worse and more disgusting situations before. Embarrassed tears shot into San’s eyes but Seonghwa shushed him.

“Okay, okay, you don’t need to eat”, Hongjoong assured quickly, likely seeing how San’s eyes had turned teary again. He reached across the small TV table and wiped San’s chin with a tissue he had procured from somewhere.

“Can I go to sleep now?”, San begged, not caring about the disgusting taste in his mouth or the churning in his stomach. 

“Do you want to take a shower or anything?”, Yunho asked, tilting his head so he could look San in the eyes. 

He shook his head. “Just sleep, please.”

“Alright”, Hongjoong agreed with a sigh, “who do you want to come with you, Seonghwa or Yunho? I can come too, but I need to keep management up to date first.” The captain sounded heartfelt sorry, probably wanting nothing more than to comfort his dongsaeng himself. But he couldn’t.

That still left San with the choice between the other two. Seonghwa seemed the obvious choice, the eomma-hyung, the one San always wanted close when ill and who knew what to do in every situation. But he also missed sharing a room with Yunho since their move into different dorms and Yunho was the perfect person for hugs with his huge frame and comforting hugs.  

He looked between the two of them indecisively, until Hongjoong giggled a bit. “You three are all tall but I think the bed might actually fit all three of you, if you want.”

“Can we do that?”, San asked, eyes wide and mentally pleading with them to say yes.

“Yey, sleep over”, Yunho said, enthusiasm in his voice, and Seonghwa nodded. “Do you want me to carry you?”

San hesitated for a moment but then nodded shyly. Walking all the way across the hall to the bedrooms seemed so far, so he wrapped his arms around Yunho’s neck and rested his head against his shoulder.

⌛

Seonghwa insisted on making San change into sleep clothes and gargle some mouthwash since he didn’t feel up to brushing his teeth. San let him do what he pleased, staying limp like a ragdoll against Yunho’s side. Finally he was allowed to lay down. The bed felt like heaven. Sure, he probably could have slept on hard concrete and found it amazing but San was just glad to not have to hold himself upright.

“Do you want to sleep in the middle?”, Yunho asked carefully, “or would you prefer a side?”

San gave it a bit of thought. He did want the comfort of his hyungs, both of them. But the way his stomach felt and had already acted up he thought the side of the bed was probably safer. So he just rolled to the side and reached out to Yunho. “Cuddle me?”, he asked his tallest member, craving his embrace.

“Of course”, Yunho agreed and laid down next to San, gathering him in his arms. “Sleep well, San-ah. Wake us up if you need us.”

⌛

Sleep was not nearly as healing as they had hoped. Quite on the contrary. He couldn’t have been asleep for too long, he thought, but Yunho and Seonghwa were both asleep next to him. San had desperately wished to sleep through the night and wake up feeling much better but apparently it wasn’t to be so.

He didn’t have to wait long to figure out what had caused him to wake up. A sharp pain, worse than anything he had ever felt before, shot through his stomach and he instinctively curled into himself. 

The next second his mouth started to salivate and his throat worked on its own. Before San knew what was really happening he scrambled to his feet, nearly crashing to the floor in his hurry and due to the weakness of his knees. Yet he knew he was about to throw up and he would not do that in bed. But he also didn’t want to be alone. He reached over and shook Yunho roughly, the older member nearly immediately sitting up. 

“San-ah?”

“Help me”, San whimpered and pressed a hand to his lips. Vomit was already starting to fill his mouth and he knew he needed to get to the toilet right now. He stumbled from the room, not waiting for Yunho and crashed into the bathroom door before managing to open it. He didn’t even make it to the toilet, instead throwing himself at the sink.

Warm vomit sprayed from his mouth, coating the white porcelain. San didn’t even really remember eating much today but apparently it was enough to cause this. He gagged helplessly again and again, unable to even close his mouth. His throat kept working overtime and soon he felt the acrid sting of bile in his nose. A huge hand landed on his shoulder just as his knees buckled and somebody caught him. 

Words were thrown above his head, two people talking to each other but he couldn’t distinguish the voices. 

Another shooting pain went through his abdomen and then … it stopped. San would have nearly cried with relief if it didn’t scare him so much. Something felt wrong. Pain like that didn’t just stop.

“Hyungie?”, he asked, letting himself go slack, trusting that he would be caught. “Can you take me to the hospital?”

⌛

San drifted between consciousness and sleep. 

He didn’t know where he was.

But it didn’t hurt.

Sometimes a familiar voice was there, or two.

He, at times, could even make out some words but it didn’t make sense.

Somebody was holding his hand.

It was nice.

⌛

Hongjoong never ever wanted to be awoken like that again, Seonghwa running into the room he shared with Jongho and Mingi, flipping on the lights and crying.

All drowsiness left as his mind made sense of the words “San-ah”, “unconscious”, “hospital”.

He didn’t even care to call the managers, he dialed the emergency number and pressed the phone into a shocked Jongho’s hand. While he was the youngest, Jongho would be best at staying calm and level headed, though he wasn’t very familiar with caring for sick members.

As he burst into the bathroom behind Seonghwa, Hongjoong found a teary Yunho holding an unconscious San in his arms. The youngest of them was pale, though his face was flushed red. Fever radiated from his skin, hotter than he had felt all day. 

Yunho told them how he was woken by San asking for help and running to the bathroom, he himself bolting behind the sick member to find him being violently sick. Seonghwa had just arrived when San just fell over, unconscious, after asking to be taken to the hospital.

Hongjoong stayed kneeling beside the sick man, stroking back sweat-soaked hair and shushing his whimpers. He stayed there when Jongho entered, clutching Mingi’s hand and informing them that an ambulance was on the way and that the managers would meet them there. He stayed there when Yeosang stumbled inside, worried after hearing the commotions. He stayed there until the paramedics arrived and Seonghwa gently pulled him into his arms.

“Did he ever have his appendix out?”, one paramedic asked. Jongho gasped.

Hongjoong was filled with dread, memories long buried resurfacing. 

Being so sick himself, throwing up in a meeting with the CEO. Unable to keep anything down and the high fever. Vomiting up blood on the drive to the hospital and the danger of sasaengs. 

Subconsciously he grasped Seonghwa’s hand tighter as he denied the question. 

“You think it’s appendicitis?”, Seonghwa asked, seemingly remembering the same things as Hongjoong.

“I think his appendix ruptured”, the paramedic said, “we’ll rush him to the hospital now.”

“Can I… can I come with you?”, Hongjoong asked quietly. He couldn’t stand the thought of letting a member this sick out of his sight.

The paramedic nodded and within a minute San was strapped onto the gurney and Hongjoong found himself in the back of an ambulance, clutching his dongsaeng’s hand tightly.

He couldn’t tell how long the drive was, suddenly San was wheeled through doors he wasn’t allowed through and then he was pulled into an embrace by the manager-noona who was waiting for him.

A doctor asked them into an office and Hongjoong was barely able to follow the conversation between the two managers and the doctor. He kept playing with one of the rings he had forgotten to take off before bed and only looked up when he saw the male manager sign a document.

“Surgery”, the noona whispered, apparently noticing how spaced out Hongjoong was, and rubbed his upper arm in comfort. “Don’t worry, you know it’s a standard routine.”

If he hadn’t been so focused on staring at his own lap and blinking back tears he would have seen the doctor open his mouth to protest and then think better of it.

⌛

Filming went on the next day. They were all paid actors and they knew well enough that the show needed to go on. The manager who had stayed at the hospital with San kept sending them updates and finally they received the message that he had woken up.

The director had pity on them and decided to cut out some content so they could leave earlier. Not even half an hour after the relieving message came through they were squeezed in two vans and on the way to the hospital, even Wooyoung insisting on coming despite his emetophobia and hate for hospitals in general.

San was incredibly groggy when they arrived but was smiling ear to ear as he saw them. Not even the nasal cannula dimmed his smile. Mingi and Yeosang had even ducked into the hospital gift shop and bought a plushy which San immediately wrapped into his arms. Wooyoung jumped over his own shadow and hugged San closely, never once leaving his side for more than a few steps at a time. Seonghwa, after hugging San to his heart’s content, pulled Wooyoung on his lap, sitting on one of the provided chairs. 

“How are you feeling, baby?”, Hongjoong asked, sitting down on the bed beside the younger. San was still pale and slightly feverish but the manager assured them that the doctors thought he was healing well. 

“Tired but it doesn’t hurt anymore”, San said weakly, smiling. “Why did it stop hurting, hyung? I don’t really remember anything after going to bed, just that the pain went away somehow stuck.”

“Your appendix burst, San-ah”, Yunho explained, having spent every minute of the filming breaks online and researching until Jongho had confiscated his phone. “That’s when the pain went away.”

“Oh”, San said, “I don’t think that was good?”

“Not at all”, Jongho added, still looking a bit frightened. Seonghwa had reported that while he had managed to get Mingi and Yunho to cuddle up together and they fell asleep eventually last night he had stayed up for a long time with the worried maknae. 

“It’s over now, though”, Hongjoong soothed, “it’s healing well and that’s all that matters. Soon you’ll be able to join us again.”

San gave them the widest smile.

Notes: for the lovely and amazing @dudadragneel who requested this ages ago 💜 also check out her blog!

Masterlist links: Tafee - Full Masterlist Tafee's Masterlist - ATEEZ

[mageofseven]

When Heat Cools: A MephistoMC Love Story

Chapter 4

Taglist: @astroseuss @fcxyviixen @jar-of-moondust @marvelous-maniac @missloserqueen

"So...what's with the whole 'mi corazón' thing?" MC ended up asking.

The two were now laying in bed next to each other.

"It's Spanish for 'my heart'." He smiled that same prideful way he did whenever he gloated about whatever knowledge or object he possessed.

"No shit, dude." The human laughed. "It's a human language though; how the hell do you know it?"

Mephisto raised an eyebrow.

The woman shook her head at him, expression suddenly changing from one of lightheartedness to one of annoyance.

"Noble children learn at least few human languages during their childhood." He explained. "Demons have always been a very academically driven race, just like the Dark Magicks before us, but many subjects are too challenging for us as children and that's why we wait till early adulthood in modern day to study at RAD. In order to keep our minds busy as children and keep our intellectual curiosity alive, they fill our time with the more elementary subjects from the Human realm like your languages, but also your various forms of math and sciences. Your people's physics was not nearly as difficult for me to master as some said it would be."

"Mephisto, do you even realize how condescending that sounds?"

The man merely blinked. Honestly, he doesn't understand what he did wrong this time and he usually picks up on it right away.

MC huffed.

"Your people have a history of talking down about about my people, of speaking of us as weak and inferior yet have no problem teaching their children a key element of various human cultures such as the languages we speak and teach them the maths and sciences, the culmination of all that my people have learned as a race, just to show off how their children can do it better?"

...okay when worded like that, the nobleman can understand why his love is upset.

"I...okay, I see your point." He agreed. "However, I did not mean to offend."

The human sighed and laid her head against his chest.

"Yeah, I know..." She mumbled. "Like...it's not a bad thing that you know this stuff. It just sucks that the reasons the adults around you made you learn it all were so...ya know."

Mephisto pursed his lips. Through her, he was growing to see a lot wrong with the way his family and his people did things and it was...a very uncomfortable situation. He used to fight it, double down with the 'humans are inferior' talk, but since that night and especially now that he has dedicated himself to this woman and their child, he can't afford to hide from the truth of that matter for the sake of his own comfort. That would be disrespectful to MC, but also to his half human child.

Noticing how upset he was, the woman quickly continued the conversation.

"So, what other languages did you learn?"

Mephisto wrapped an arm around her waist, resting his hand on her small belly.

"Well...French, Turkish, Arabic, Swahili, Yoruba, Ukrainian," He listed off before sighing. "I started learning Swedish, but my mother had scolded me, said I was too old for such 'childish endeavors'."

"I take it that's how they see Human realm knowledge?"

"...Sadly, yes." He admitted, giving her belly a gently rub.

His parents have made it very clear how they felt about humans over the years...how were they going to react to this baby then, their grandchild? After accepting that he will not abandon his child or the human he loves, at least?

Honestly, Mephisto still had no idea how to handle his parents, but knew he had to figure out some way to bring about their acceptance--or at least, their leniency.

That when MC's bedroom door opened.

"Look, I gotta--" Mammon said guiltily before pausing in his tracks. "Wait, the hell is he here for?!

The woman sat up.

"Mammon, relax--"

"The hell should I relax for?" He stepped further into the room and glared at the nobleman next to her. "After all the shit ya put her through, ya still stringin' her along?"

Mephisto tightened his hold on his girlfriend as he stared the the Avatar of Greed down.

"I am doing no such thing." The noble retorted. "Maybe you would be better off not speaking of things you know nothing about."

"Mephi." The woman scolded him softly; the last thing she needed was these two fighting.

"Oh I know nothin', huh?" Oh boy... "Well, who the hell do you ya think was here for her while you were runnin' like a coward these last couple months, huh?"

"You're one to talk." The Mephisto said bitterly. "How many times have I seen you run from your brother after you've stolen something from the school? You wouldn't know bravery and accountability if your precious big brother stapled it to your face--"

"That's enough!" MC covered her ears and was now crying on her bed.

"Shit..." Mammon mumbled.

"Mammon, just go..." She sniffled.

The greed demon looked like he was about to say something, but thought better of it. Instead he headed out the door just as she asked.

"Mi corazón..." Mephisto reached out to her, just for MC to gently push his hand away.

"Please go home." She asked him. "I...I just want to be alone right now."

The nobleman watched her guiltily for a moment longer before nodding.

Mephisto...he may not like most of the brothers, but he's going to have to learn to get along with them for MC's sake.

[mahoushoujotechsupport]

ok episode 16 time!

oh wow i forgot how jarring this episode feels after episode 15 since we just like go right back to where we left off in 14 after sophie's death and the eri reveal

also look at that, prospera got up from her desk chair but immediately sat down again. i wonder if belmeria is aware at all about prospera's mobility issues too

forgot about this line lol this makes suletta somehow getting her into hots-san pretty much a miracle

ok yea yea prospera shrug memes aside, this part of this scene is so good lol. like prospera just fucking calls belmeria out on her hypocrisy. belmeria is such a coward lmao.

i don't really have an opinion on the fact that she lived to see the end, but i feel like she doesn't get shit on enough for being complicit in all the evil shit peil gets up to. i was really excited to see prospera call her out at the beginning of this episode when i first watched lol

the news broadcast frames are always so interesting to me in this whole show lol. like it's probably the easiest and kind of laziest way to do worldbuilding, but given how few eps we got and what a mess s2 is, i guess i'll take it

also cracking up at the wording on this last screencap and focusing entirely on the spacian economy instead of you know the earthian lives being snuffed out for literally no reason

wonder if they'd been planning to be turncoats since this moment

i mentioned it before but like this little lesbian snuck cool-san around this whole time lol

also imagine how she felt the moment she turned her phone back on to find a barrage of messages from suletta

i dont think i'd ever stopped to read the messages here as secelia is scrolling through her phone, so it's interesting to see that last one asking if suletta saved everyone

the most confusing shot and line to have ever happened in this entire show lmao

how strong is chuchu that you need suletta and lilique to hold her back

jubeju gone but not forgotten to the memes

the birth of something so insane lmao i still can't get over sabinika's existence

even with magical permet minerals creating quantum entanglement internet capabilities across electronics, how are we supposed to believe guel just made his way up the space elevator with no money or identification

god i really wanted feng jun to play a bigger role in everything and then lol

best boy till

ah, here we go...

i wonder if any of the earth house kids picked up on miorine getting upset when prospera showed up. like you'd think maybe till or something wouldve noticed, right?

this scene was so satisfying after what a creep el5n has been since his introduction

love this frame composition. this entire scene is honestly one of my favorites and the voice acting throughout it is top notch

really gotta wonder about the people who were hating on miorine mid-season. like were they just not paying attention? so much of her emotions are displayed to us through her body language

and i really just love the part in this scene when suletta starts fidgeting and we SEE miorine notices this. we SEE miorine notice that suletta is deeply uncomfortable with this conversation. it's such a blink or you'll miss it moment and i just really appreciate that detail

i really wish we would have gotten miorine finding out more about the vanadis incident on-screen instead of it being part of all the things that got off-screened in the second of the show

like at some point her and suletta had to have talked about all this, yeah? suletta even has "first-hand" knowledge of sorts because of eri pummeling her with data transfer memories

i just really want to see that conversation so bad. i can't imagine how miorine feels knowing it was her kuso oyaji that started all this and destroyed elnora's family. it just adds to my headcanon that miorine has not forgiven him at the end

prince miorine

ok no lie, i was in a terrible mood yesterday and then i opened twitter on my phone and the first thing i saw was anilu's prince ferdinand miorine and i just turned into that meme and was like "MIORINE!"

*looney tunes wolf whistle gif*

yeah ok getting whiplash again with this episode right after 15. the weird jump back to 14 plot is just so strange

this is a great episode though. like it already heightens the tension and we know something is about to happen but god none of us were ready for 17 lmao

i think i watched the greenhouse conversation a million times after this ep aired and after the 17 break week. i really can't express how amazing i think the voice acting is on that part and although i honestly don't know shit about sound engineering, the softness and vulnerability in miorine's voice throughout that whole scene is just amazing

alright, definitely not watching ep 17 tonight, but gonna try and watch tomorrow

[sunshinetemptress93]

Behind The Mask

A Harry Styles one shot

Welcome to Behind The Mask! A one shot for the new year thanks to two amazing friends who cooked up the idea. This will have smut, obviously, but nothing too harsh that I think would need a trigger warning. There's some hair pulling and pinning down but that's it.

Hope you enjoy!

*****

"Large cappuccino with 2% for Mary!" My tiny voice isn't heard for the third time calling out another order that's been ready for 10 minutes. I try and peer around the mass of people standing at the counter, frustrated that this cup of coffee is getting cold. "Hello! Mary!? Large cap-"

"Mine." A middle aged woman pushes through the bodies in front of me and snags her red paper coffee cup. "Have a nice day."I grumble under my breath.

Another day covered in milk splatter, Carmel syrup, and coffee grinds is how I spend my Sunday morning at Urban Bean coffee shop. I feel like I live in this building for how often I work, but I don't really mind it. It's not exactly my dream job, but until I finish my masters degree in biomedical engineering, serving grumpy middled aged stock brokers and socialites from the upper west side is my life six days a week.

I knew the big move to New York was going to be tough but with my best friend Davina by my side, i wasn't scared in the slightest. She made sure to show me the ropes once I landed on her doorstep that hot June evening; she was my savior in more ways than one. Helping me blossom after a bad breakup with my ex, graduating college with nothing but 20 bucks in my pocket and a need to escape Georgia, Davina took me under her wing without hesitation.

Six months in and I felt a little more in the groove of the big city life, and with 3 weeks off of school, I was really getting to know my new home. Spending lots of time in museums, reading poetry in the park, and finally mastering the subway system, I was almost passing as a native New Yorker.

Well, in my head at least I was. That was until I opened my mouth and the Georgia southern drawl and incessant need to call everyone ma'am and sir no matter their age gave me away.

"S'cuse me." A man's deep voice laced with a British accent breaks me from my inner thoughts. He stood across from the counter in a very expensive looking red wool sweater and brown corduroy trousers. His crystal clear green eyes pierced through me, softened with kindness. "Sorry, yes what can I get you!" He smiled at me when I acknowledged him which is a rarity in this city. "Can I just have a coffee?"

"Any cream or sugar?"

"No thank you."

I nod and plug in his order. "that'll be $.6.25." The man hands me a 20 dollar bill so I open the till to get him his change. He raises his hand and shakes his head, a curl falling forward and into his eyes. "I don't need any change."

Wow. No one ever tips. Especially more than 2 bucks.

"Thank ya sir!" I set the change into the tip jar next to the register. "Itll be a few minutes."

"No worries, I'm in no hurry, love."

It was strange having someone speak more than 4 words to me here, that north east attitude not being a myth here. But of course by his accent, he is not from here. Preparing a few other beverages ahead of his, I hand them off to the other patrons. It's strange, but I could feel his eyes watching me the whole time. It didn't make me uncomfortable though, a nice change of pace from the predatory gazes I get from most men.

Finally getting to his, I pour from a fresh pot into our signature red paper cups and cover it with a lid. Turning back around, he was still standing at the counter, "here ya go!" He takes the cup from my grip, fingers grazing my own. I notice his fingers adorned with a slew of rings; a gorgeous gold lion head and one with what looked to be a bird, a robin I think. They looked expensive. He must come from money.

He didn't act like some of the other guys that looked well off that were around his age, but I wasn't complaining. "Thank you..." his eyes cast down at my name tag, "Iris. Pretty name."

My cheeks felt warm at his words, "um thank you! Have a great day!"

His gaze stayed on me longer than I expected, inspecting me almost. "See you 'round, Iris." The mystery man turns on his heels and saunters out of the coffee shop leaving me feeling stunned by his beauty. People seemed to step aside as me walked past, creating his pathway to the exit. He had a precise that was impossible to ignore. He exits the double glass doors and turns, locks eyes with me once more and winks.

He was beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking.

"Um hello??" A nasally voice cuts through. "Where is my latte!"

Jesus, Mary and Joseph...

"Comin' right up sir."

*****

"Iris!!!" The front door clicks open and is slammed shut as Davina hollers from the doorway, excitement ringing through. "Come here!"

I close my book, climb off my bed, and pad down the hallway. "Yes, dear?" Standing in the kitchen she was clutching a small black card in her hand, bouncing up and down on her heels. "Get dressed. We're going shopping."  

"Whyyy?" I ask skeptically.

"Becauseeee..." she races over to me smiling from ear to ear. "We need to find an outfit for the most prestigious party of the year."

Panic sets in. I was not one for parties. I also wasn't one for socializing unless it's absolutely required, like a birthday party or second cousins wedding which I still didn't always enjoy, but I would attend out of obligation. I love my alone time with a good book, curled up in my room with my fur baby Luna, listening to my favorite indie playlist in peace. I couldn't stop the groan that escapes my lips. I lean against the edge of the counter and sigh, "Davina I wanted to stay in! You know, pajamas and movies with you and Luna." Anxiety builds inside of my chest at the thought of some wild party with a hundred strangers.

She rolls her eyes, "Iris come on, you've been here for six months and haven't been out hardly at all."

Davina was much more into the night life than i ever was. When we met in college, she was the one out all night making wild memories with her sorority sisters while I had my butt planted in the library as often as i could. Don't get me wrong, I did have some experiences while in college, but a wild night out was never my thing. Being the last of five kids, I was raised with traditional values and lots of rules, so branching out and navigating life outside of what my parents taught me was not an option while living under their roof. My entire adolescent life consisted of church every Sunday, no dating, and god forbid I try and wear make up that made me look like... wait, how did my father put it? A trashy whore? 

Yeah, that sounds right. 

I went into college like a scared little bird that was shoved out of the nest when they weren't ready, stumbling around not having a clue what direction was up, waiting to be picked off. It was a game of survival of the fittest and I was the weakest of prey.

The massive adjustment period I went through learning who I was outside of the box of conservative ideals I was born into wasn't the easiest. I'd always been the one who didn't want to conform to the idea set in place that women go to college for one thing and one thing only: to find a husband. I wanted more from life. I craved knowledge and growth, and my parents were disappointed to say the least when they discovered I wasn't going to marry my boyfriend fresh out of college. They adored him, probably more than me, but little did they know he was the farthest thing from a gentleman.

Then I met Davina in an advance statistics class my freshman year. She was the kind of big sister I truly needed. She always looked out for me and taught me how to stand up for what i deserved. She pushed me to find out who I was outside of the only version of myself I knew at the time.

"Iris, I want you to experience New York the right way! Stay out all night, drink too much champagne, make out with a hot guy! You're 24 years old, now start living like you are." Davina twirled the end of her curls around her perfectly manicured seafoam green nails. "I'm not taking no for an answer." She states.

Well shit.

"So... what's the hype." I sigh in defeat.

Her coffee colored eyes light up immediately. "Every New Year's Eve there's a strict invite only shindig thrown for people in the entertainment industry. Working in PR, there's always a chance our agency is selected. The person who throws it never reveals themselves, but it's the most anticipated event of the year. I found the invitation on my desk today and you're going to be my plus one. Pleeeease?"

Picking at cuticles I contemplate my options: do I finally let loose and have a true blue New Year's Eve with my best friend or do I hold up in the apartment and hide away from whatever was out there waiting for me? Her brown eyes beg silently until I finally decide to cave. I can't say no to Davina when she begs like a toddler who wants one more cookie before dinner.

"Ok. I'll go."

she places the card down on the counter top and grabs my hand, "thank you thank you! Now let's get you out of your house slippers, put on your happy face, and let's go find something hot to wear."

*****

Shopping sucks ass, I've never been a fan. With too many options that cost too much money it was such a deterrent, and yet when i walked into that little boutique and my eyes landed on the most beautiful dress to wear, I was done for. A slinky chain mail mini dress that settled at the top of my thighs, perfect for whatever tonight was going to bring. It was the only one on the rack, it was my size, and it was on sale.

It was as if it was made for me for this exact night. I knew right then and there it was fate.

Touching up the last of my hair with the flat iron, Davina saunters into my bathroom in the hottest outfit I'd ever seen her in. Adorned in head to toe white glittery trousers, a matching blazer, and a sequined bra top underneath that complimented her figure perfectly.

She eyes me up and down and smirks, "we are so going to be the hottest two there tonight."

"You're absolutely right." Running my hands through my straightened locks, I assess how I looked. I felt hot.

Davina insisted on scattered little stars across my left cheekbone and around my eye for the final touch, which seemed unnecessary since this was a masquerade themed party, but what Davina says goes.

"You'll be removing your mask anyways at midnight, so it'll just add some extra pizzazz!" Davina pinches my cheek and taps the tip of my nose. "You about ready?"

"'Mhm!" I grab my lip gloss and my black mask adorned with beads and feathers. "Let's get this party started!"

An Uber waited for us downstairs so we race out of our apartment hand in hand ready to paint the town.

Davinas words, not mine. She's quite eccentric, and she was determined to make this night one to remember.

The ride was long, about an hour from our apartment far away from the major city lights and chaos that New Year's Eve brings. Turning down a narrow dirt road, a vacant building appears ahead. Large empty spaces where windows once stood illuminated in hues of blue and purple lights. The closer we got, the more apparent the jagged pieces of glass around the frames became. The perimeter was bordered with dilapidated wire fencing like this place had been abandoned for decades. It gave me the creeps. "D, if you get me murdered out here I swear to god-"

A huff leaves her, "Iris, take a Prozac and calm down."

I shove her shoulder playfully, "I don't take Prozac.... I take Lexapro and not enough anti anxiety meds in the world will make me calm right now."

"I promise it's going to be incredible. I went to the one last year and when I tell you it was the best night of my life," Davina fans herself and whistles. Always with the theatrics. "just trust me."

The car comes to a bumpy halt and thrown into park. "You ladies have fun and be safe!"

"Thanks again!" Davina hollers as we stumble out of the back seat onto the gravel road. Wearing stilettos was probably not very practical out here but hey, you live and you learn. "Don't break an ankle tonight, got it?" Davina teases.

"Oh fuck off!" I scoff.

The air was icy and the wind was wild, a typical New York winter night. Goosebumps covered my exposed flesh so we race up to what looks to be the front door, large dark gray steel being the main barrier between me and a wild night. The music was booming so loud the metal was making the slightest rattling sound. Before I could utter a word, it creaks open sinisterly slow and a tall blonde woman in a tight green velvet dress slips out. "Welcome." Her voice was low and sultry. "Please put on your masks."

Davina and I simultaneously tie our masks across our eyes, adding to the veil of mystery and suspense.

The woman shines a satisfying smile, "enjoy the night and don't forget, those masks do not come off until midnight." She pushes the door open a few feet more and gestures her slender arm inward allowing us entry. The warehouse was illuminated with flashing colorful lights painting the 32 foot concrete walls. There were multiple levels to the inside of this place, covered in the most elaborate decor. Acrobats hung from enormous hoops, contorting their bodies in the most fascinating shapes. Fire eaters were entertaining a group of onlookers on the main stage and house music bass rattling the inside of my chest.

The safety of my mask made me feel more confident in such a foreign place, bringing out a side I didn't know I had buried deep inside. I was enthralled with the visuals around me. I can't believe I almost said no. It made me feel free.

A man in full tuxedo garb approached us with a tray of champagne flutes, offering two to us. Alcohol was flowing, bodies grinding, and the air felt heavy in the best way.

"This is incredible." I mutter.

Davina leans over and pecks me on the cheek, "I told you lovey. Now let's go party."

*****

I'd never experienced anything like this before in my life, and I think I'm addicted to it. My anxiety was gone completely as the hours ticked by, three glasses of champagne will have that effect.

Propping myself against the bar, I waited for the bartender's attention when a presence next to me makes itself known. "Having fun?"

"M'sorry?" Turning to my left a stoic gentleman dressed in a deep green suit with a lighter green satin button down underneath was standing incredibly close to me. "I asked If you're having fun." His mask was matte black; simple, stylish, but covered almost his entire face. He was unrecognizable. His voice sounded relatively familiar, but i could barely recall where I'd heard it before. I cleared my throat, "um yeah i am! This is the coolest party I've ever been to." The man shoots me a soft smile, "good. M'glad. What are you drinking?"

"Vodka cran."

He nods and leans over the bar grabbing a bottle of vodka and a glass. "Um I don't think you're supposed to do that." I state. Pouring a shot, he places the bottle down on the shiny black bar top and proceeds to find a bottle of cranberry juice. "Don't worry, Chase won't mind." He seemed... too comfortable doing this right now.

Sliding my fresh drink to my waiting hand, I thank him. His gaze scans my mask, then down the length of my body. He goes to say something when another body next to me knocks into my back, spilling some of my drink. "Hey!" I scold. Turning around I'm met with a man who's barely able to stand up on his own two feet. His gaze lingers on my breast and he smirks. "Sorry hot stuff... you here with anyone? Because I could keep you company if you need." He slurs. He reeked of tequila, musty cologne, and smoke.

"Umm." My words fail me. Typical.

He was making me uncomfortable with the closer he got. "I'm sorry... I-"

"Hey mate, back off alright?" The mystery man who poured my drink stands next to me, hand laying gently on my shoulder. "She's with me." His voice was firm. Not possessive, but territorial, "you can go now."

The drunk raises his hands in surrender, "Sorry. I didn't know." He takes a few steps back and disappears into the crowd. I turn up and look at my knight in shining armor. "Thanks, you didn't have to do that."

He shrugs, "seemed like you needed some assistance there. And..." he points his finger past me, "I was not leaving you with that guy. Seemed like a situation that could have easily gone wrong."

I let out a sigh of relief, "You're right about that. Why do men have to be like that?"

"It's a shame. Men like that give the rest of us a bad reputation."

"Well you're my savior tonight." I smile at him and he smiles back. "Wanna grab a seat?" He asks.

"Sure thing." He takes my hand and leads me to a section of velvet red couches, secluded a tad from the mass of people raging around us. He guides me to sit down first and then he nestled in next to me. Not too close, but not too far. He was sort of cautious with his movements, like they were thought out meticulously.

"So what's your name? What brings you here?" He asks.

Twirling the straw in my glass I hum, "I thought this party was all about mystery?"

He chuckles under his breath, "Well since it's my party, I think I'm allowed to break the rules a tad."

My heart was pounding, my hands became sweaty around my cold glass. Whoever this was, he's important enough to have these infamous parties and still remain anonymous.

"We'll just use fake names to keep some mystery. How's that sound?" He presses.

"Ummm. Sure. I'll be...Eloise." I extend my hand to shake his and he follows suit. I'll be...Gary."

Without giving too much of himself away, he let it be known he's involved in the music business. Producing, writing, performing, even has his own label that he refused to tell me the name of.

Damn anonymity.

I was so curious about him, but I know this would be all I'd get. At least he was kind and from what I could tell from his physique quite attractive. He had an energy about him that felt safe, unlike most of the men in attendance who jump right into gross comments about my body and unwanted touch. He never crossed a line with me without invitation. The ball was in my court the whole time.

He gave me his undivided attention when I spoke, and as the night went on, we got more comfortable with each other. His finger traced circles on my arm slung over the back of the couch sending shockwaves through my body with each drag. The longer I sat here, the more I desperately wanted to know who he was.

Before we knew it, a giant screen rolled down from the ceiling with a clock ticking down to midnight. 1 minute appeared above us and everyone began to cheer. Gary looks up for a moment and back down at me, licking his lips. "1 minute." He murmurs. "Think you'll still find me interesting once the masks are removed?"

I quirk my lips to the side, pretending to have to think about it. "Hmmm I dunno. I mean that's part of the appeal right? Once the mask is off the fun kind of ends."

He leans forward and lowers his lips to my ear, "the fun can definitely continue, love, if you want it to."

Recognition slaps me in the face and I pull back from him. "Wait." I stutter.

Panic flashes across his eyes, "M'sorry I didn't mean to-"

I wave my hands at him, letting him know it wasn't what he was insinuating. "No, no it's not that! It's just... I think we've met before? The coffee shop?"

His mouth falls open in shock, "Wait... today?"

I nod nervously.

He unties the back of his mask and pulls it down slowly. Once fully out of the way, my stomach drops. "Oh my goodness." I couldn't believe it. Of all the people I meet tonight, it's the gorgeous man that stood before me 12 hours ago. "Iris, wasn't it?" He asks, voice raising an octave .

I smile and pull off the ties of my own mask. "You are correct. Now what's your real name so this can feel less weird?" I laugh.

"Harry. The names Harry." His smile widened as he spoke, "I can't believe this."

"Neither can I!"

10... 9... 8...

The two of us stare at one another completely dumbfounded at the chances of the two of us crossing paths a second time in one day.

7... 6... 5...

"My offer still stands. Wanna get outta here?"

4... 3... 2...

"Yes." I answer without hesitation.

1! Happy new year!!

Confetti explodes from the ceiling and cascades all around us, covering us both in shiny pieces of glistening silver. The pyrotechnics on the main stage light up the vast space making it easier to see him now, and holy moly was he even more beautiful in this setting than before. He leans forward at the same time as me, our lips connecting without hesitation. He tasted of mint and whiskey, lips soft and supple. The kiss was brief, but heavenly. I break from him for a second knowing I'll want to devour him right here on this couch if we continued.

Harry's eyes land on my lips, tucking his own bottom one between his teeth. "Let's get outta here."

*****

I made sure to find Davina before leaving with Harry, letting her know I'd keep my location on and get home safely. She praised my willingness to go home with some random guy telling me how proud she was. Funny thing to be proud of but hey, she wanted me to have a proper New Year's Eve and this was apparently the way to do it.

Harry had a car drive us back to the city, a silver Escalade with blackout windows, blocking us from the outside world. He had a very hard time keeping his hands to himself but I was definitely ok with it. I found myself strangling his lap, making out heavily with no concern for the driver. I'd never done anything like this before, but it was thrilling. Harry's large hands stayed on my hips, ever so gently rubbing his thumbs on my hip bones.

The driver clears his throat to get his attention, "Mr. Styles, we're here." Harry pats the side of my leg to stop my attack on his neck. "Hey, let's go inside." He whispers.

With the car now no longer moving, realization of how uncomfortable this driver must feel right now hits me. "Ohh umm ok, sorry." I giggle.

Harry shakes his head and pinches my side. "Don't worry about it."

I swing my legs off Harry's lap and climb out of the car. He thanks the man and says goodbye before walking me up the stone steps to the front door of a gorgeous brownstone that took my breath away. He leads me up the steps, unlocks his door, and enters behind me. Shutting the door and securing the lock, Harry grips my wrist and spins me around. I gasp when I collide with his heaving chest, pupils dilated fully. "Now..." his index finger trails down my throat. "Where were we?"

He connects our lips once more with a sense of urgency. His tongue grazes my top lip and slides between them, a whiny moan escaping me. With my hands on his chest, I begin to unbutton the rest of his dress shirt. Harry walks backwards into the house towards the living room, shrugging off his jacket and shirt in one swift move, never separating his mouth from mine. I couldn't help but glance at his physique that was now on full display, clenching my thighs together at the site. His body was decorated with blank ink, abs so defined you'd think he was hand sculpted by Michelangelo himself. "Fuck.." I utter under my breath.

His hands grip my dress in handfuls, humming to himself. "Think you need to get more comfortable, darling." His fingers tug at the hem of my dress, so I raise my arms for him to pull it over my head. It lands on his hardwood floors with a thud and clink, leaving me in just my dark green satin thong. I cross my arms over my bare chest out of habit, but Harry's hands settle on my forearms. "No need to hide, Iris" he utters. He kisses my lips once, my left cheek twice, then my right. "Embrace your beauty. Let me admire it." I pull my bottom lip between my teeth nervously and lower my arms to his hips.

His mouth travels down my jawline and sucks slightly at my throat. "Fuckin' perfection." He moans.

Allowing him to take full control, he lays me down on the sectional, slotting his knee between my legs. The sexual tension building was becoming painfully unbearable. My hands travel to his belt and undo it as fast as possible. Harry kicks them off and onto the floor, the outline of his erection visible beneath his underwear. Hovering above me once more I pull his hips down to connect with my core. I desperately needed relief from the teasing in the back of the car.

If I didn't get fucked soon I was going to explode.

My hips roll against his cock, a moan vibrating against my mouth. Harry's hands find their way down my stomach and between my legs where I needed him most. The pads of his fingers run over the material of my thong making me shudder. "Mmm you're soaked already, I've barely touched you."

His hand pulls my thong to the side to gain better access to my clit, adding the perfect amount of pressure with his index and middle finger around my most sensitive bundle of nerves. I cry out in pleasure, head thrown back in bliss. His fingers sink into me to stretch me out and curl just right, that all too familiar knot forming quicker than I expected. Harry lowers his head down to my left breast and flicks his tongue over my hardened nipple over and over again. He knew exactly what he was doing because in a matter of minutes, the bubble in my tummy was about to burst. The way my body reacted to just his hands, I couldn't wait for what was in store. A string of curse words fall from my lips needing to come so badly, but Harry had other plans. He pulls his fingers out of me quickly, making my gasp at the loss of fullness. I furrowed my brows at him, a little irritated. "Don't frown, I'll take care of you, promise." Harry takes his now soaked fingers between his lips, sucking them clean. Jesus he's sexy... "you better because that was a mean thing you just did."

Harry bends down and pulls a condom out of his wallet on the floor, discards his briefs, and tears it open with his teeth. "Don't you worry, love. I won't be mean any longer." Pumping himself a few times before rolling the condom down his shaft, I took in the size of what I'd be working with and felt a flood of nerves course through my veins.

Don't be a little wimp, Iris.

Harry nestles himself between my thighs once more, propping his weight up on his left arm, lining himself up at my opening. "You wanna stop at any moment, let me know, yeah?" I nod in response but he cocks his head at it. "Words, Iris. Need to hear yes."

My heart clenched at his need for verbal consent. "Yes. I understand. We stop when I want to. Same goes for you." I confirm.

With that, Harry pushes into me slowly, giving me a moment to adjust to the difference of his fingers verses his cock. I gasp and grip his shoulders tightly, feeling that wonderful burning sensation that I love so much. His strokes were fluid and slow, taking in every flutter of my walls around his massive length. "Oh my god..." I squeal.

Finding the perfect rhythm, Harry leans down and nuzzles his nose into the crook of my neck. "So fuckin' good." He moans. Hot, opened mouth kisses trail across my throat while his hips snap into me harder and harder. My impending orgasm was creeping in once more, and there was no way I was going to let it be stopped again. "Right there, please don't stop..."

"Didn't plan on it, love."

The sound of slapping skin and primal moans echo around us, simultaneously chasing our peak. I pull his face to mine, needing to taste his lips again. Hitching my leg up more, Harry picked up the pace and tugged on my right nipple this time, sending a shock of electricity down my spine and making me unravel beneath him. A guttural cry leaves my chest, my orgasm hit me like a freight train. He smirks as I come. And I come hard. "Fuck, give it to me baby, come on." Due to his size and speed of strokes my orgasm felt never ending. The more he fucked me the longer it went. It was the best one I'd ever had, and that includes ones I'd given myself.

My body trembles underneath him as I come back down from my high, my chest heaving and head dizzy. I open my eyes and see Harry admiring me. "You're so pretty when you come."

I hum in satisfaction wanting more from him. I chew my bottom lip before I open my mouth. "can I..."

"Yes?" He says.

"Get on top?"

Harry quirks his brow, "Wanna give me one more?"

I nod shyly, "I can try."

Harry pulls out of me slowly and repositioned on the couch, pulling me onto his lap. Sinking down on him feeling full once more, I don't hesitate to roll my hips back and forth in a slow fluid motion. Harry's eyes roll to the back of his head and his mouth gapes open. This position was way more pleasurable for me, and I was glad he was open to it. Some men don't like having women on top. Apparently it makes them feel like they're not in control.

Harry's large hands pull my hips back and in forth the longer we go, stimulating my clit perfectly. Our bodies were coated in a sheen layer of sweat, his own curls sticking to his forehead. "I'm gonna come soon..." he whines.

Changing up the rhythm I use my knees to bounce up and down which sends Harry right over the edge of bliss. "Oh fuck, that's it!" He hollers through deep groans, thrusting up into me chasing that oh so euphoric high. My second orgasm came as a surprise

causing me to still on top of him. I cling to his shoulders and throw my head back as I come for the second time in 20 minutes and Harry following suit right after. His thrusts become sloppy and erratic as he comes undone underneath me, face turning bright red and brows knit tightly together. It was a beautiful sight to witness; so primal and enchanting.

Catching our breath, we lazily kiss one another for a few minutes, like we couldn't get enough. He was back to being gentle and sensual, a vast difference from how fervent and powerful we were fucking just now. Harry brushes my mess of hair out of my eyes and smiles at me. "Well that was something." He chuckles.

"That's one way to put it." I kiss his forehead and lift off of him, in search of my dress and underwear. I wasn't sure what to do now that I just fucked a random dude from a party, I've never done this. I collect my things and turn to see Harry putting his briefs back on, condom discarded. "Umm. So I'll call myself and Uber and get out do your hair." I begin to walk quickly past him when he stops me. He looks at me confused, "You don't have to leave. You can stay."

I halt my pace, "what?"

"I mean, if you want to. I wouldn't ask you to leave. I've got plenty of comfortable clothes you can sleep in. Could even make you breakfast if you'd like..?" He runs his hand through his hair and fluffs his nose with his knuckle. "No pressure, but you don't have to leave."

I contemplate for a moment if it was normal to stay after what was a textbook one night stand, but he was offering so...

"Ok. Yeah, I'll stay." Satisfied with that, Harry shows me up to the bedroom and bathroom to shower and get comfortable. He let me use his master while he showered down the hall. Once I'd washed off the night and dressed in a pair of his shorts and t shirt, I enter his bedroom where he'd made himself comfortable. "Do you... want me to sleep in here or.."

"Yeah If you'd like." he gives me a genuine smile, dimples popping out and waves me over. I pad over to his king size bed and climb in, sinking down into the plush duvet. We spent a while talking and getting to know one another a bit more until we both eventually fell asleep curled up facing each other. Davina wanted me to have a night I'd never forget, and I think I definitely accomplished just that.

*****

The next morning I wake to the smell of bacon being fried, coffee brewing, and the sound light rock music playing.

I make my way down the creaky old staircase and find Harry was cooking up a storm. It was a bit of a split level so I made my way up the two steps and around the island when I discover he is wearing a Christmas apron, tube socks, and nothing else. "Ummm Harry?" I ask trying to hide my giggles.

"Iris?" He mimics.

"You're not wearing any clothes."

"Yes I know." He smirks. "More fun this way. Breakfast is almost ready, grab a seat and I'll bring you coffee." He gestured for me to sit down on one of his wooden barstools. I do as I'm told and watch him move around the kitchen almost stark naked. He has the cutest ass I'd ever seen. Firm, plump, and delicious. He made sure to always find a reason to have his ass facing me the whole time he was cooking, shaking it around when an up beat song came on. The Christmas apron was the cherry on top of this whole thing.

I hadn't laughed this hard or had this much fun is so long.

He was vastly different from any other man I'd met, making him ten times more attractive to me. I didn't think witnessing him cooking naked in an apron would be a turn on, but the longer he stayed that way the more I wanted him again. Flirty looks over the shoulder were thrown my way when he'd bend over and reach for a pan or reach up into a cabinet for the plates. 

He was taunting me.

Harry places a plate of food in front of me, standing dangerously close. "You hungry?" He utters under his breath, right behind my ear. I turn in my chair and gaze up at him, his pupils partially dilated, emitting a hunger that can't be satiated with food. "In more ways than one thanks to you prancing around here with your ass out."

I reach around his back and tug at the ties of his apron. The taut material around his figure loosens and he pulls it over his head. I bite my lip when I see he's half hard already. "We should do something about that don't cha think?" I coo.

"I've got a few ideas." His words came out smooth as silk, desire dripping from each syllable. Harry's index finger grazes my cheek, trailing down to my chin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. I couldn't help but flutter my eyes closed in anticipation, his touch igniting a heat between my legs. His hands travel down my clothed chest and slide underneath my shirt to cup my breasts, rolling my nipples between his fingers. My legs instinctually spread for him, allowing him to step between my thighs. His lips encompass my own, swallowing my moans.  I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me.

I was so turned on just by his hands I could have come right then and there.

He hardened fully as I ran my hand up and down his shaft, paying special attention to his tip collecting his precum on my thumb. Harry's lips part in pleasure as I pump him faster and faster, sucking in a sharp breath with each twist. Pulling my head back from him, I raise my thumb and suck the taste of him off of it, humming to myself. Harry watches me in awe. "Fuckin' hell..." he whimpers. He swiftly picks me up from the barstool and carries me over to the kitchen table that thankfully had nothing on it.

He yanks the shorts he let me borrow off of my body, kneeling down in front of me. Throwing my legs over his shoulders he tuts at the sight before him. "You've made quite a mess here, darling. Looks like I'm gonna have to clean it up." Without warning his mouth latches to my clit and sucks harshly.  I gasp at the sensation of Harry's scruff brushing against my smooth skin. His tongue sinks into me, lapping up my arousal like i was his last meal.

With every swirl of his tongue and brush of his nose, my entire body was buzzing.  Creeping closer to the edge, Harry sucks harshly on my clit making me grind against his face. throwing my head back I couldn't hold back the whines and moans leaving my lips. Each grunt he emitted vibrated against my throbbing clit bringing my orgasm to its peak. "oh fuck!!". My thighs squeeze around his head involuntarily and shake violently. I don't know how this man makes me come so quickly.

The shocks of my body subside and Harry yanks his face away from me and stands. "Lemme get a condom, I need to fuck you so bad." Harry reaches for his apron on the ground behind him and digs out a condom from the front pocket.

"You were so sure we'd go again you had one in there this whole time?" I tease. Harry shrugs playfully and places the condom on. "Hopeful thinking that's all." Connecting our mouths again i wrap my legs around his waist, "You're lucky you're so darn cute." Harry pushes into me fully this time, not easing inch by inch this time. The sense of urgency to tear into each other was evident in his more dominant approach compared to last night. My nails dig into his shoulder blades and scratch down his arms, leaving red marks in their wake. "God you feel so good wrapped around me, best I've ever had." I try to roll my hips against him but he was fucking me senseless there was no use. I let him use me however he saw fit.

He pulls my hair back causing me to yelp at the stinging sensation on my scalp. "Fuck do that again."

He yanks again, making me clench around his cock. His arm wrapped around the middle of my back and lifts me up off the table still buried deep inside. Harry carries me down the steps of his kitchen finding the couch once more. Stumbling down to the cushions Harry begins slamming his hips into me again and again, pinning my wrists over my head. The tight grip around my wrists added to the heightened bliss of being ruined by the most gorgeous man I'd never seen.

"Fuck I'm gonna come again, don't stop." I beg with tears brimming on my lash-line.  "Please don't stop."

"Wouldn't dream of it." His free hand snakes between us and rubs my clit furiously, making the knot in my tummy explode. I see nothing but white behind my eyelids as I come harder with each manic thrust, Harry's orgasm following right behind. His body stills and his legs tremble, grip slipping from my wrists. Even with the barrier of a condom I could feel him twitching inside of me and finally stilling. My legs loosen around him falling to the side, arms laying lazily around his neck, "God you're good at that." I pant. Harry groans and pulls out of me, making me wince. He bends down and runs his tongue up my folds making me squirm.

"Hmm someone's sensitive."

"Yeah no shit, Sherlock." I sit up fully while he sits back against the couch. "You work up an appetite, darling?" There was amusement in his tone, I roll my eyes playfully. "Oh shut up." I stand from the couch and take his hand, "Stop workin' blue and let's eat."

*****

Fully dressed once more and happily full from the massive breakfast Harry prepared, he walks me to the door with a driver waiting to take me home. He leans against the door frame, arms crossed over his bare chest. "Last night was fun. You have my number?" He asks.

I smirk and nod, "Well you putting it in my phone would indicate that I do." I tug at the shirt he let me borrow and a pair of sweats. "I'll get these back to ya."

"You can bring them when I take you on a proper date."  Harry leans down and pecks my lips, "how about Saturday after next? I'll be back in town by then."

I hum happily, "That sounds great."

Harry pulls my bottom lip with his thumb, "I'll call you." I nip at his thumb, capturing it between my teeth.  Harry groans and shakes his head, "Do that again and I'll have to fuck you right here in front of my driver."

"Hmm sounds like fun. Next time?"

Harry exhales sharply, "You're gonna ruin me."

*****

[fairy-pd]

Asa Emory but he's not that bad

GN reader, sort of a crack fic cus I cant take his avocado mask seriously, sfw but really dumb lmao

notes: i wanna simp for the bug man without feeling guilty so Im gonna deviate from the 2009 and 2012 cannon slightly and defend this version of him till I die. Picture Juan Fernandez's Asa cus that's who Im talking about muah muah goodnight

So in my head, Mr. Cockroach is just a silly little nerd. A goofy fella with social anxiety. He is the definition of a poor little meow meow- smart but pathetic, a self absorbed mess

Picture a pinscher with a cold. That's him

He has managed to get himself to pretend he's somewhat well adjusted, but even tho he can make small talk, buy groceries and order pizza from time to time he still comes off as cagey and awkward

Definitely kept dead bugs in jars in his room as a kid, did not expect them to rot, learned nothing from this experience and still does it

Which means he smells bad. But purposefully now

I think Asa identifies as a bug tbh, but not literally

He loves humans like you maybe love cars, or art.

He doesn't relate to people. He doesn't get what's like to be one. But he loves us so much, he admires us so much, like you admire a vintage Lamborghini in perfect conditions.

He loves us from afar, like an admirer, an outside observer, wanting to learn everything about us because he doesn't understand but loves how strangely endearing we are, like the entomologist he is. Its almost like a fetish, but not sexual- objetification meets cold adoration in the hands of a scientist

This is specially noticeable (like another poster said) when we see various scenes where he's gently craddling his victim's faces or taking "care" of them. He looks at them in awe, like he could (cus he really could) break them, he wants to see them break to learn one more thing about them

He sees his victims not as people, not as complex universes, not as concepts, but as animals. He understands you have a life and opinions and friends, but he compartmentalizes these as normal behavior for your species

He cannot physically take his headphones off during the day cus it's so fucken noimsy outside and it hurts his ears

He likes to listen to anything repetitive and loud, nothing with discernible lyrics

His house looks like one of those ikea display rooms, except it smells faintly like formaldehyde and rot

He has a massive sweet tooth

He has a love for psychology, human anatomy and thanatology

Actually any field of knowledge that could explain human behavior is fair game to him

He absolutely hates spending money in "unnecessary" things, which is why he has plenty of diy projects around his place

He doesn't really have an opinion of people or of himself. He isn't one to judge, to classify people into groups. He thinks we're all fascinating, and he spends a lot more time trying to teach himself things about us than thinking about his own life

He doesn't have an internal voice inside his head

Absolutely has a God complex, but more in a "I Cannot Relate To Any Of My Beloved Creechures" than "my milkshake is better than yours"

Has a degree in entomology, and chose to become a certified bug serial killer cus seriously,,,,ppl will just give their house keys to a stranger for days????? how could he not take advantage of that????

100% a virgin. Does not have any interest in romance or sex, does not understand most people's need for it, could not feel more uncomfortable than when his victims offer to "help him" in exchange for their freedom

Never had any friends

Was raised by his extended family who sent him off to college as soon as they could

His favorite place in the whole wide world are cemeteries (silent, and he can spend time with his beloved lil humans as much as he wants)

Never takes anything personally and is completely unfazed by morality. Again, whenever anything happens he just sees it as part of the behavior of this particular species, like he isnt an active participant in the world, just a bystander

Hates pillows. His bed is as firm as a wooden table (might actually be one), only wears blankets when its absolutely freezing and he has no other choice

Walks around either on all fours or on his tiptoes

He doesn't? really? get? why people hate his trunks so much. He finds small spaces quite soothing and attributes his victim's screams to panic or anxiety of being caught, not also cus they're yk stuck in a tiny box with no chance of getting out

He has quite a few "animalistic" quirks, like the growling and purring thing. Some come naturally, some he picked up from his early subjects when he was a student

Knows how to crochet, and how to sew up small tears or holes in clothing

[lubdubsworld]

Perfect Imperfections.

Jeon Jungkook x OC 

Genre : Arranged Marriage AU! Angst! Explicit Sexual Content. 

Rating : 21+ 

Warnings : Ableism , Chronic disability. OC has limited use of her left leg, Emotional infidelity? Mild Cheating ( nothing very physical.. a kiss or so ) 

Summary : Marrying Jungkook is a mistake. Falling in love with him? Definitely the worst exercise in masochism . 

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

[ This is nothing but me indulging my love for writing bad cliches. That is it. Its literally a fest of cliche k drama tropes] 

Chapter 1

After the accident, my life had become something of a stagnant pond. 

Everyday began much the same. 

The alarm, mild but not jarring. Not very shrill but definitely insistent, sweeping away any lingering traces of sleep. I blinked awake, cobwebs of exhaustion still marring my vision but a few deep breaths, a few more blinks and I was awake .

And now came the harder part.

Getting my legs to work. 

It never got better, despite the many years that I’d spent in physiotherapy. All it really did was stop it from getting worse. Or maybe I’d just gotten used to the pain at this point. 

Deep breaths helped. Sometimes. 

But not today. 

“Mrs Jeon?” The familiar voice made me jump a little. 

“Sana...” I said, relieved. “ Could you come over? Seems like I’m going to need some help today.” I laughed nervously, gripping the sheets harder.” Could you help me sit up?” 

The girl moved closer, feet nimble and quick and sure and i felt my throat clench in envy. I swallowed it down though, just the way I swallowed every bad thing that came my way. 

It had been eight years ago.

 A fall from a fifty feet ravine. Cuts and scrapes all over my body, abrasions all over my torso. And legs that had absolutely shattered on impact. Multiple fractures. Motor Nerve Damage on my left leg. 

The skin stitched together. The bones grew back. 

But the nerve damage stayed. 

I wasn’t completely helpless. I could walk with the brace. Slowly and with a mildly awkward gait but I could walk. Even better if I was using crutches. 

But it wasn’t something I could hide. 

People looked at me and that was the first thing that they noticed. 

The girl who couldn’t walk. 

I sat still, gripping the edge of the bed as Sana carefully grabbed the brace and helped me put it on. I watched as she carefully set the loops in place, fixed the velcro and finally helped set my toes in place. 

“Thank you.” i whispered and she nodded.

“Mr. Jeon left early. He said that he won’t be home tonight.” 

I smiled a little. 

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to be caught between us. It must make you feel uncomfortable.” I said . 

She looked surprised but quickly ducked her head

“No, Mrs. Jeon.” 

I sighed.

“You may leave. I’ll come down soon.” I said quietly. 

How handsome he looked, in that beautiful dark suit. How strong and handsome and ...whole. 

Right next to a framed article about us from a magazine.

Jungkook ran  marathons and trained as a boxer. He worked as the managing director at a steel manufacturing unit . Spent his days overseeing workers in the smelting units, and everyone knew that it wasn’t uncommon to see the Jeon heir, shirtless and sweaty and covered in dirt and getting down and dirty with all the other workers as the ore got delivered. 

Someone like that... Someone that perfect.... Deserved a woman who would be an equal. Beautiful and graceful and perfect. And he had had her. My sister. For three years, I’d watched my sister and Jungkook be the perfect couple . Deeply in love and so happy. 

I watched her leave, gently closing the door behind her, before shifting my gaze to the large  portrait on the opposite side of the wall. It was a picture of my husband and I taken on the day we got betrothed. 

What they hadn’t counted on was how greedy our parents could be. 

Jungkook was the younger son. And his father had long written him off as unreliable. He was wild and headstrong. Had his own ideals and morals. Wouldn’t really bend to his father’s will. So his brother was the one who would be set to inherit the company. 

And my father , with his billion dollar empire wasn’t going to give away his precious daughter and all of her inheritance to a paltry second son. 

Jungkook’s brother had married my sister. And Jungkook had been forced to marry me. A comedy of errors , except it wasn’t really funny and no one was laughing. 

I swallowed. That was seven months ago. The first few weeks had gone in stony silence and hushed whispers. I knew he was talking to my sister. Knew she was sobbing in despair on the other end. My sister and I had never gotten along. And now, she had a genuine reason to despise me. 

Three months into marriage he had a small accident at the Manufacturing Unit.A small fall, not that far. Ten feet or so, but he’d crashed into a steel structure on his way down. He had a dislocated shoulder and some flesh wounds. Not that bad. 

But my entire body had gone ice cold at the news, when i first heard it. 

It was a brutal sort of realization. 

That perhaps I wasn’t as indifferent to him as he was to me. Six weeks, with him had changed things. He didn’t talk much, other than the bare minimum but I didn’t hold it against him. I helped him anyway I could. Typed out emails for him. Helped him eat and change. 

Hands brushing and time spent together meant tension. And a shift in the way he looked at me, sometimes. I noticed, wasn’t sure if I could act on it. But he was still my husband. And I didn’t really want to spend the rest of my life celibate. 

So, even though it was so unlike me... I’d made the first move. Linked my fingers with his. Brushed my lips across his. A gesture that meant a hundred things. A touch that invited more. And he must’ve wanted it, at least physically. Because he indulged me. Gave me a glimpse of heaven on his bed. 

And yet, six weeks of being as close as two humans could be didn’t change much.  

We were strangers who slept together. Who appeared in public together. Who did everything our family expected of us. And I wasn’t sure how to bridge that awkward gap between us. Jungkook was a fiercely physical person. His free time was spent in the gym , or cycling or hiking. 

I couldn’t walk across the room without having to grip the walls for support every few minutes.                                                              

Could anyone blame him for being bitter? For being distant? For not knowing what to do with me? 

And in all this time , I’d only learnt a handful of things about my husband. How he felt on top of me. How he sounded when he came, how he looked eyebrows furrowed as he talked into his phone  and of course, how little he cared about me. 

Yes, we would have sex. Yes, he bought me a couple of gifts when he was overseas. But otherwise his heart belonged to my sister. It wasn’t something he hid. 

As the days passed, I realized that it was time to keep myself safe. That I couldn’t show him all of me anymore. He was careful with me, guarded and secretive because he was smart. He didn’t want me to know anything about him. 

There was a reason. There had to be. 

So the best thing to do would be to do the same. Build that distance between us. This was going to crash and burn someday and I had to 

And the past few weeks, he’d been busy with more deals. Some kind of MoU with some supplier had gone south and they were looking for different suppliers. Jungkook was busy. I hadn’t seen him in ten days. 

And now apparently he had come home and left without so much as seeing me. 

Sighing, I moved to the garden, walking slowly to the marble bench set under the large sweetgum tree. I settled down , sighing. I ran a palm over my belly, soft and hesitant. 

I was two and half months along. It didn’t show...thanks to the oversized clothes I wore. But it wasn’t the kind of thing you could hide forever. I wasn’t sure why I started hiding it in the first place. It was just that.... I knew that no one would be happy for me. My family would be ecstatic but for the wrong reasons.

I could already imagine .

 Finally. Now he can’t leave you. 

I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of it. At the thought of someone talking about my baby like some sort of handcuff to lock Jungkook in. 

I would have to tell him. Of course. But I didn’t know when or how . I didn’t want to hide it from him. There was no point. But ... I wasn’t quite sure i wanted to see that look of helpless disappointment in his face. 

The sound of his car drew me out of my reverie and I startled, glancing over at the wide driveway. I glanced at the time . It was a little past eleven in the morning. What was he doing here? 

“Leah! Get inside!” Jungkook’s voice rang out and I jumped. 

“Jungkook?” I stared as he all but jumped out of the car rushing to me. 

“Come on.. get up.”

“What’s going on..?” I asked, heart pounding as he gripped my elbow, drawing me into his arms. 

“Dad fucked up. Got mixed with some shady bastards and apparently, they’ve put a hit out on me and hyung.”

My heart dropped.

“What?!!” I choked out, stunned. “ Jungkook...” My fingers curled over his chest, clutching the 

“Don’t worry... we know who it is and we have guys of our own. They’ll take care of it. No one comes for a Jeon and lives to tell the tale. I just wanted to make sure you stayed in. Don’t go anywhere. there are guards all over the place. but i want you to stay home. Okay? Just till this blows over?” 

I flinched, legs aching fierce as he led me up the stairs and he stared at me, eyes dripping with worry. The look was so foreign....so unlike the indifference I was used to that I could only stare. 

“Are you alright?” He asked urgently and I nodded quickly, hands curving over my stomach instinctively. 

“You’ll stay here right? With me...?” I asked softly and Jungkook hesitated. 

“I... I need to go check on Lisa.” He said stiltedly and I froze at my sister’s name.

“She’s with her husband, right?” I asked sharply, anger building out of pure fear. “ Why do you-”

“Don’t question me. Go in. Now.” He said quickly and I frowned. 

“You don’t have to go there. She has a husband of her own.” I said quietly, voice shaking. 

“I have to. I... I have to just go make sure she’s alright.” He snapped angrily and I curled my fingers into fists. 

Apparently, even when there was a very real threat to our lives, he would rather risk my life and his than let go of his obsession for my sister. i wanted to vomit. My skin felt clammy and my heart raced. I imagined him doing this when we had a kid....risking our child because he can’t stop thinking of her.... And he would do it..... Of course he would. 

“Then go.” i snapped, tears filling my eyes .  I yanked my arm out of his, stumbling a bit.

Jungkook looked shocked. 

“Leah...” He reached for me but I pulled back and away. 

“Go to her and don’t you dare come back here.” I screamed. Jungkook stiffened. 

“Leah... enough.”

“You’re right. I’ve had enough . Of your dirty pining. Of you. She’s married for god’s sake. To your brother. They’re together. Its over and done with. Why can’t you just accept it and move on?!!” I choked out. My chest hurt. 

“You knew I loved her when you married me.” He snapped back and I laughed in disbelief.

“Yes. And you knew I’d break someday. That I’d someday have enough of you treating me like I was disposable. Isn’t that why you kept at it for so long? You wanted me to be the one break things off right? So you could get out of your father’s anger...unscathed. Well, guess what. You got your wish.... I’m done!! “ 

He didn’t reply.

“Go inside. I have to go.” He said softly. 

I watched as he turned on his heel and stalked back down the driveway. 

Was it supposed to hurt this bad? My heart felt a bit like it was cleaving in two. Had I really just told him I had enough? What did that mean? Was I going to leave him? I felt my head spin , worry and fear laced with disbelief.

 Someone was out to kill him? How could he be so flippant about it? 

I shook my head. The Jeon’s were  a weird bunch. Although they were one of the richest families in our society, they lacked any of the charming social graces that came with it. For years, everyone had kept them at arm’s length because while all other families had aristocratic roots and beginnings, the Jeon’s came from a background of mining iron ore and making steel : a rugged and dirty business.

The only reason my father had agreed to 

And was I really going to leave him? where did I even begin? I couldn’t leave. I had no home to go to. My parents would take one look at me and send me back to Jungkook. I felt like a prize fool. I was stuck here. For eternity. That was all there was to it. 

A decade ago, I’d had a future. But that evening on that mountain trail had changed my life forever. I was , for all intents and purposes disabled. I couldn’t just walk out of here and build a life for myself. I wouldn’t last a day. 

I dragged myself to the living space, stopping when i saw how deserted the place looked. 

There were usually people bustling about. Especially so close to lunch. 

“Sana!!!” I called out, only to be met with the echoing silence of my own voice. And then a few seconds later she appeared , 

“Mrs. Jeon.... Is Mr. Jeon here?”

“He just left... Is everything okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Where is everyone? Are all of you busy?” I asked nervously. 

She bowed. “ Yes, ma’am.... The rest of us are cleaning out the pantry and Cook’s in the kitchen. Seul and Leejin are out in the backyard cleaning the statues near the koi pond. Mr. Jeon’s asked all the footmen and guards to stay around the perimeter. Will you need anything else?

“No... I’ll just rest till lunch.” I said gently, waving her off.

She left. 

The eerie silence that followed told me there was nothing to do but embrace the loneliness and I hesitated, moving slowly to the window and peering out. I couldn’t see any of the guards either. 

My fingers shook a little as I moved slowly to the entryway that led into the dining space. It was dark in here, the light from outside only illuminating the west wall which had large windows set in. I moved to the windows and stared out into the Jeon estate. 

Although Jungkook was the younger brother, he had been taxed with maintaining and caring for the family estate. Not because his father trusted him but because the old man knew just how much Jungkook hated the place. 

I played with my wedding ring as i remembered the countless times I’d watched the two of them fight, Jungkook coldly still while his father hurled abuses at him. Jeon Jaesook considered his son to be incompetent and disobedient, which made little to no sense to me. 

As far as i knew Jungkook had helped increase production and had cut down operating costs significantly over the seven years that he’d been working as the managing Director at Jeon Steelworks.

But it was obvious the old man favored Jihyun, Jungkook’s older brother. Jihyun worked in the air conditioned offices located in Gangnam, the CEO taking care of all their sales and marketing while Jungkook , who had an actual degree in Business spent his days slaving away at the smelting Units, a job that was physically and mentally exhausting. 

And while it always made my stomach twist, this unfair treatment he got subjected to, there wasn’t much i could do. My father had made it clear that he wouldn’t agree to the investment, unless both his daughters married the Jeon brothers. And Jungkook’s father had made it clear that if Jungkook didn’t agree , he would be out on the streets without a penny to his name. 

My leg began aching and I turned back around ready to go settle into my workroom where I usually worked on my writing when I heard his footsteps. I glanced up, frowning. 

Jungkook stood in the doorway staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face. 

I stared at him for a few seconds, waiting for him to say something. 

When he didn’t, I sighed.

“Did you think I was going to leave?” I asked bitterly.

He sighed. 

“I’m not going to cheat on you. “

I nodded.

“I suppose you want me to thank you for that?” I shook my head. “ You don’t have to keep your worthless vows. Go sleep with her. Why would it make a difference to me?” 

He exhaled sharply. 

“I thought you understood.” He said sharply.

“I did. I do.” I said curtly “ I understand that my parents screwed the two of you over. I understand that you had to do something you absolutely did not want to. But there’s something you need to understand too. Just because I’ve accepted this, it doesn’t mean I enjoy it. It doesn’t mean I have to be happy about my husband being in love with another woman, much less my own sister.” 

Jungkook nodded. 

“Right. Got it. “ He said curtly and I flinched when another muscle twitch told me I’d been standing for too long. 

“I’m going to go lay down.”

“Do you need me to get you a heating pad? For the leg? Or send one of the girls to massage your legs?” He asked softly, stepping closer and lightly gripping my elbow when my knees buckled. 

I didn’t have much choice than to grip his forearm, because the pain was intensifying from pins and needles to proper muscle spasms. Sweat began to bead on my upper lip and i felt just a little faint. 

“Yes. “ I said , feeling pathetic. I should have used the crutches. It had been a bad day even when I woke up. I should have sensed it and taken the proper measures.

“Leah... Should I run a warm bath for you? “ Jungkook's lips brushed my ear when he leaned to hold my weight up and i stiffened. 

“That won’t be necessary. I just need help back up to the bed, thank you.” I said shortly. He looked uncertain and shook his head. 

“ okay, but I’ll get Sana to run you a warm bath and make you some willowbark Tea.” He said quietly, and when I stumbled a bit on the first step he swore. 

“This isn’t going to work.... Come here.” He said gruffly and before I could protest he bent low, gripping the back of my knees and pulling me up into his arms.

i swallowed, head spinning as I cradled the curve of my lower belly. 

 Tell him... Tell him... Tell him...

 I felt my head throb as I kept my arms wrapped tight around his shoulders. 

“I’m pregnant .” i blurted out. 

Jungkook stumbled , nearly sending the both of us tumbling down the flight of stairs and i clung to him in terror. Okay, maybe the timing could have been better.

“What?” He looked ashen. Like he’d seen an actual ghost. 

“Just thought you should know.” I muttered under my breath. 

We reached the landing and he didn’t say anything, looking away from me, his jaw taut and lips set in a  thin line. I felt my throat go sandpaper dry. He waited till we were safely in the confines of our bedroom, placing me down on the bed gently and moving to close the door and lock it. 

I stared up at the ceiling, refusing to look at his face. 

“ Leah-”

“Its fine. You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t know till a week ago myself.” 

Silence. 

“Have you told your parents?” 

I exhaled sharply.

“No.” 

“Mine?”

“No...”

“Then would you consider.... “ He trailed off and i finally stared at him. 

“No.” I said softly. 

He sighed. 

“Alright. Should  I book an appointment with Dr. Lee?” 

I laughed. 

“How very practical of you..” i said. 

“What else do you expect from me..”

“Not even an ounce of support, that’s for sure.” I snapped and he growled.

“You want me to lie? Fine.. I’m happy!! So fucking happy that we’re bringing an innocent kid into our fucked up family. ” He shouted.

 This was why I didn’t want to tell him, I thought bitterly. 

“You’re the only one who’s fucked up, Jungkook. I’m perfectly fine with myself and my choices. I can give my baby all the stability they might ever need.”

“ That’s not hat I'm talking about. do you know what its like to grow up with parents who can’t stand each other?” Jungkook shouted. 

I gaped at him. Can’t stand each other? Is that how he saw us? 

“As long as you don’t walk out on us, we’ll be fine.” I muttered despondently. 

“ Don’t worry about that. I’m not going to run away from my responsibilities. ” He said quietly.

I finally turned to look at him, placing both my hands on my stomach.

“Do you want me to leave you?” I asked honestly.” Have you ever thought about it?” 

He didn’t say anything.

“So you have.” I smiled sadly. It wasn’t surprising but it did hurt. 

“Of course I have. You’re Lisa’s sister and Lisa is my... “ He paused, shaking his head, “ But, I know you can’t. I don’t expect you to either.” He said gruffly, grabbing the intercom.

I watched as he called the housekeeper, firing off instruction for Sana and then to the cook to send some tea for me. He hung up and turned to me again.

“Lisa and I are going to go to Japan for a week. She has a conference there and I’m going to scout for locations just in case we open up a distribution office there.” 

I turned away. 

“ You don’t have to tell me all that. You didn’t before, i don’t want you to start now.” I said firmly. 

He didn’t reply and i turned back to stare at the ceiling. 

Jungkook hovered for a few seconds before moving closer to the bed and grabbing the comforter and a couple of pillows. I felt a lump in my throat as he carefully picked my leg up, placing the pillows underneath. i was almost numb from the thigh down. 

i closed my eyes as he carefully pulled the comforter over my waist, folding it over my chest. 

“Rest well.” He said quietly before walking away. i heard the door opening and then closing. 

i waited till I heard his footsteps fades away before opening my eyes and staring at the ceiling. 

I should probably put some paintings up there, I thought. 

Author’s Note : This entire fic can be summed up as me not having any self control. 

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Hayloft (p.1)

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts...) 

Warnings: Abuse, mentions of drinking, misogyny, reader’s mother is dead

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: My first slow(er) burn fic! Let me know what you think!

__________________

When your car finally pulled up the old dirt driveway to your family's farm house, the sun was already setting, casting an orange hue over the acres of land that your father had inherited from his father. It was beautiful, really. The sun was behind your old two story home made of wood planks that were covered in chipping white paint. The door’s paint was also chipping, only this time it was old navy blue paint - at least that’s the color it was supposed to be when it was painted who knows how many decades ago - that peeled back to reveal the wood beneath. 

Your father’s truck wasn’t in the driveway yet when you pulled up and you sighed in relief because it gave you the opportunity to get dinner started before he got home. You headed straight for the kitchen. The only moment taken for yourself was the moment of silence when you leaned against the counter top and stretched out your back from the long day's work at the diner. The refrigerator was mostly empty and you made a mental note to run to the store after work tomorrow before your father could notice the lack of food. Thankfully, there was still enough scraps to piece something together for tonight between the fridge and the cupboards. 

The house was swimming with the delicious scent of herbs, onions, potatoes, and stock as you boiled a stew on the stove when you heard the front door open. “Hi, Daddy! How was work?” You asked over your shoulder before you even heard his steps enter the kitchen, not actually caring but knowing he’d be upset if you didn’t ask. 

He came around the corner but you could hear from the moment the door opened that there were the footsteps of more than one person entering your home. With a frown, you turned from the stove and took a few steps so you could see around the wall that blocked your view of the front door but your father and new mystery person stepped around that corner and into the kitchen before you could get that far. You stopped in your tracks, startled by their sudden appearance, and your hand flew to your chest as your eyes widened in surprise. “Sorry!” You chuckled awkwardly, apologizing for your jumpiness, “Didn’t think you’d be comin’ in here.” 

It was a man about your age that stood just behind your father, a navy baseball cap twisted in his hands and his footsteps light so as to not knock dirt off onto the floor from his work boots, both welcomed displays of manners that you appreciated, unlike your father who left a trail of chunks of dried mud and grease everywhere he walked. This new boy, though, he was cute. Short curly hair that was messy, either from work or wearing the hat, big expressive brown eyes that reminded you of a puppy in the best possible way, a tight lipped expression that showed he was a little nervous and uncomfortable to be here, they were all a welcome, albeit unexpected, surprise. 

"Work was good. This here is Arvin Russel. He'll be staying with us, at least for the night." Your eyes flicked back to the boy you now knew as Arvin when your dad introduced him and your heart skipped a beat at the eye contact. 

  He nodded his head slightly, a small cordial smile flashing on his face for just a moment, "Pleasure to meet you,..." 

"Y/N. It's nice to meet you as well. If you're staying the night, let me add some water to the soup and then I'll go make up the spare bed." You pointed your thumb over your shoulder towards the pot of stew that was nearly done. 

"That's very kind of you. Thank you." 

Before you could notice him moving, your dad was already beside the fridge and you reached out to try to stop him before he could open it. "Let me get you something! What about you, Arvin? You want a beer or some water?" You scurried to try and beat your dad to the fridge that you knew would earn you a reprimanding that you didn’t deserve. 

You were too late though and your dad already swung the door open wide. You stepped back nervously, rubbing the sharp edge of your nails against your thumb. "It's damn near empty." He noted, voice stiff and dissatisfied. He stood, managing to produce the last two beers from the refrigerator before slamming it shut. 

You flinched at the loud sound, hearing the few glass jars of preserves and jams clanging against each other inside from the force. Your eyes rolled beneath closed lids at his overdramatic reaction, even though it was one you expected. "I'm gonna hit the market after work tomorrow but I checked that we have enough for dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow." Your voice was sweet and placating, careful to respond in a way that would keep his temper in check. 

  "It's that damn job of yours. I told you women shouldn't be working. They belong in the house where you should be. Now look. You went and let the kitchen run out." He passed Arvin a beer, which he reluctantly accepted, watching the way your father pointed his finger at you accusingly. “Ain’t no man gonna want a wife who can’t even keep the kitchen stocked up.” 

Your tongue was raw inside from biting down on it so hard in order to keep yourself in line, as he called it. You didn't need a blow out tonight, not with Arvin here. "I manage to work and keep up with the house just fine, Daddy. We just got a little low on groceries but I'll be heading to the market tomorrow to fix it. Don’t you worry." Even you were surprised with how even and sweet your voice came out, that ever present fire of anger towards your father having been fanned into a decent blaze.  

He popped the tab on his beer and sighed, dropping the topic for the time being, "Fine. But make sure to pick up some fixin's for that chicken roast you make. Patty is lookin' nice and fat in the coop so why don't you cook her up tomorrow." 

You grimaced at the thought. Patty was one of the chickens in your coop out back that had been pretty slow when it came to laying eggs but you’d grown attached to her nonetheless. Ever since you were a young girl, your daddy warned you not to become attached to the animals out back but you never listened. Back then, you’d had your mother to step in and convince him not to kill the animals for whatever reason she could come with and opt for buying meat from the market instead. You hadn’t been able to convince him like that since she’d passed. Everything had been different since she passed. 

“I don’t know, Daddy. Patty’s been layin’ a lot of eggs lately and we’ve been gettin’ extra money from sellin’ all those eggs. Why don’t I just pick up a chicken in town tomorrow at the store.” You insisted, walking back over to the stove to stir the stew. 

“Don’t go wastin’ money on things we already got! We got some chickens out back. Just cook one of ‘em up tomorrow!” Your father’s voice was hard and stern now, enough to fill the air with tension in Arvin’s presence. You turned slowly, making eye contact with Arvin briefly before quickly avoiding it. You didn’t like the way he stood awkwardly, silently watching the interaction he clearly didn’t think highly of. Your father was already getting worked up and it would only get worse the longer the night went on. 

Biting your cheek, you nodded, “Yes, sir. Now why don’t you boys go get cleaned up. Dinner will be ready in just a minute.” 

**

Dinner went relatively well, despite your father’s occasional grumblings about there not being any beer. Once you finished, you stood up and picked up yours and your father’s bowls before noticing Arvin’s was empty as well. “Did you want some more? There’s just enough for one more if you’d like it.” You offered Arvin that last bit of stew but he just shook his head and stood up. 

“Oh, no thank you miss. Dinner was delicious though. Let me help with that.” He grabbed his own bowl before your hand could reach it and then took the bowls from your hands as well before setting them down at the sink. 

You chased after him, “Thank you but you don’t have to do that! Please, sit. I’ll make your bed up when I’m finished cleaning up dinner.” 

“She’s right, son. Kitchen ain’t no place for a man. Why don’t you come with me and I’ll show you the room you’ll be stayin’ in.” You father’s chair screeched against the beat up wooden floor as he stood, beckoning Arvin to him. 

Arvin was standing right beside you, his arm only a few inches from yours as he lowered the stack of bowls into the sink. He looked over at you with deep soulful eyes that seemed to look right through your calm facade in a way that made you feel seen like never before. It was highly uncomfortable, almost violating after all these years of hiding away what you felt for the sake of keeping the peace, and you forced a smile, “Please, you’re our guest. It wouldn’t be right to make you do the dishes. You go with him.” 

He gave you a drawn out hesitant look but turned away nonetheless and walked towards your dad. “Thank you again for letting me stay here till I get things figured out. It’s mighty kind of you.” Arvin thanked you and your father for your hospitality, shooting you one last glance over his shoulder before following your father down up the stairs towards the spare room. 

You made quick work of the dishes, having cleaned most of them as you were cooking earlier anyways and scurried to the closet that held your extra sheets. As you passed the bathroom, you heard the shower running and knew it was your father bathing after his long day of work, like he always did right after dinner. The man was a creature of habit. 

With your arms full of neatly folded faded steel blue linens and the thicker burnt sienna colored wool blanket, you made your way towards the guest room Arvin was staying in to find the door wide open and the man looking through his bag that was set on the bed. “Knock knock,” you announced your presence, waiting at the entryway for Arvin to notice you before entering. 

He spun around, dropping something that you didn’t see quickly into his bag and pressing it down while flashing you a small polite smile, “Hello, ma’am.” 

You walked into the room, raising the linens in your hands, “I brought some sheets so I could make up your bed.” You walked over to the wooden chair and set the top sheet down before making your way back over to the bed, unfolding the bottom sheet as you did, waving it up and down in the air to straighten it out before laying it flat on the bed. 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, miss,” He moved his bag to the ground and jumped to lift the corner of the mattress and tuck the sheet beneath it. 

You blushed at his kindness, not used to such help from your father, but shook your head, tucking the sheet beneath the mattress on the opposite side of the bed “If my daddy came in and saw you fixin’ the bed yourself, he’d kill me,” you chuckled to make it sound like a joke but you knew better than that. He wouldn’t actually kill you but you would certainly get some less than kind words thrown your way, maybe even a few beer cans thrown your way depending on how drunk he was. 

Arvin shook his head, his hands falling on his hips, “Looks like you do most the housework ‘round here.” What he was insinuating was clear even though his tone didn’t change but you didn’t want to acknowledge it. He didn’t need to concern himself with the difficulties between you and your father. 

“So how’d you and my dad meet?” You changed the topic, going to grab the top sheet and unfolding it. You laid it over the bed and tucked your side in, Arvin reaching down to tuck his side in as well in a silent act of defiance against your insistence that he didn’t need to help. It occurred to you suddenly after the question left your lips that you didn’t actually know anything about this boy but, for some reason, you still didn’t feel uneasy around him.  

Arvin pulled the top corner of the sheet up to the head of the bed as he answered, “I just started workin’ at the garage with ‘im.” 

“You like cars?” You questioned, spreading out the final layer on the bed, the wool blanket. 

Arvin shrugged, “Never been really into ‘em but I can fix ‘em alright enough. Just needed the work and happened to see the wanted sign when I was passin’ through town.” 

Your brow raised in curiosity, “You were just passin’ through and stopped in this old town cause of a help wanted sign?” The little town you lived in wasn’t terrible but it was far from a destination that people really moved to for work unless you a doctor desperate for a place to practice or something like that. “You must really be desperate,” you joked but immediately felt a slight pang of regret when a shred of truth could be seen in his eyes. 

“Just tryna figure out where I’m goin’ ‘n what I wanna do. Figure I’ll find somewhere I like eventually.” Arvin picked up his bag and set it off to the side where it was a little more out of the way. 

You stared at the man standing before you, taking every bit of him from the grease stains on his white t-shirt to his scuffed up brown work boots to his messy hair, dirty from dried sweat. It wasn’t until you locked eyes with him that you realized that you’d been staring in a settled yet weirdly comfortable silence. You stood up straight and smiled to diffuse the awkwardness you’d unintentionally fostered, “You’re more than welcome to take a shower. My daddy should be finished any second. I’ll set some extra towels in there for you.” 

“That’s very kind of you. Thank you.” He nodded in appreciation but offered no further conversation. You could tell from the moment of silence that it was time for you to make your exit. 

“Well, uh, I better head to bed. You need anything before I go?” You asked, backing towards the door and swinging slightly with it once your hand hit the old bronze knob. 

Arvin shook his head, “No, thank you. ‘M all set.” 

“Alrighty, then. You have a good night.” You chewed your lip as you opened the door to make your exit. 

“G’night, miss Y/N.” 

Butterflies flew wildly in your belly as you walked to your bedroom. It had been a long while since you’d seen somebody worth looking twice at in this old town but now a mysterious handsome man rolls into town and stays with you. In your house. It probably wasn’t the safest of situations but Arvin genuinely looked like a nice man. From your very brief interactions with him, you couldn’t really imagine him trying to hurt you or your father for no reason. Even if he did, you knew where your daddy kept his shotgun and you had no problem defending yourself. But like I said, you had an unearned sense of peace with Arvin that you hoped wasn’t a misjudgement. 

“What’re you smilin’ ‘bout?” Your father’s gruff but thankfully not entirely drunk voice made you stop in your tracks and turn towards his room with a suppressed groan. He stood in the doorway of his bedroom in nothing but an undershirt and long johns with his suspenders hanging loosely at his sides.

You shook the smile off your face. “Just thought of somethin’ funny that happened at work,'' you lied. “You need somethin’?” 

“I watched you come out o’ that boy’s room with a big ol’ grin on your face. Better not let me catch you ‘n him. Ain’t no daughter o’ mine gonna be whorin’ around with some boy blowin’ through town, y’hear?” He threatened, his hands reaching down to pull up his worn out long johns. 

Your blood boiled at the accusation and despite your best efforts to keep peace while Arvin was here, you spat words with venom, “I wasn’t doin’ nothin’ with Arvin. God forbid I have a damn smile on my face.” Your voice was low enough so that you hoped your guest hadn’t heard your outburst but when your father’s face darkened and he began taking slow, heavy steps towards you, you weren’t sure if your charade of normalcy would last much longer. 

Your father hovered over you, exaggerating the size difference between the two of you, “I put a roof over your head. I put food on the table. You play make believe with that little diner job but I'm the head of this house. I'm your father. You watch that fuckin’ tone with me girl."

Your jaw was clenched tightly, matching your fists, as you glared up at him with indignantly furious eyes. Father your ass. He once had been your father, an imperfect but loving man who used to try. Now he was merely a selfish broken sperm donor. He inherited this house from his father, didn’t pay a darn cent, and you couldn't remember the last time he pitched in a dime for anything but alcohol and the occasional dinner he made when he was in a good mood. He did do that- have these strange out of character nights where he pretended to be kind and loving. They were far and few between though and, while you enjoyed the change of pace, it felt like walking on eggshells in some fantasy world. 

A heavy silence settled between the two of you that crackled with a tension that could snap at any moment and turn into a full blown fight. Your eyes were narrowed on his as you refused to let him think he intimidated you anymore. Nevertheless, you turned on your heel, nails digging into your palm, and walked down the hall towards your room, leaving him alone. 

“He wouldn’t want you anyways, fuckin’ attitude like that.” Your father grumbled to your back, hoping for one last reaction out of you that you refused to give. 

It took all the control in the world to not slam the door in his face but you knew there was no way it would escape Arvin’s attention. You’d have to resort to the therapy of muffling your furious tear-soaked screams into your pillow until you finally fell asleep, like you did many nights. 

[leviiattacks]

cashier levi was SO GOOD could you maybe write a drabble sort of thing about levi explaining why he likes reader or idk?????:?/?:? something cute i love cashier levi ☹️☹️☹️☹️

author note :: cashier levi has garnered many other cashier levi enthusiasts so here we have another addition to the cashier levi universe :-) if you’d like to read the original here it is!

word count :: 1k

“contact info? yeah the customer service helpline is listed on our website.”

“i meant could i get YOUR number?”

this woman who’s been flirting with levi for god knows how long is getting on your nerves. not because you’re jealous but you have things to do!!! people to talk to!!! netflix to catch up on!!!

she looks up at levi fluttering her lashes but he only purses his lips feeling the same annoyance as you

“when i am at work i am but a pawn used by ackermart ltd! if you wish to contact us please contact the customer service helpline.” he recites feigning an air of cordiality

“no i mean i am interested in YOU.” she really is incredibly persistent

levi huffs clearly seeing this is going nowhere

“how much will you pay me?” he asks

you’re just standing there waiting for her to get this over and done with so you can purchase your pastries from the store bakery and go

“payment????” her response has you biting back a laugh. she probably didn’t expect that

“well yes. i am an asset to this company. you can’t steal me away without upping my salary.”

“you know what–” she starts up burning in simmering anger

“fuck me? yeah i figured. have a nice day!” levi offers her a displeased smile before gesturing towards the exit

without a second to spare she storms out and it’s safe to say you don’t think you’ll see her swing by ackermart any time soon

levi turns to you and shrugs “people who flirt with cashiers are so odd??? go to a club, flirt with someone who isn’t working.”

you blink feeling confused because well, you and levi are literally in this weird inbetween of “hey i have a crush on you” and “when do we actually date...?”

and the reason for that is literally because you started throwing subtle hints at him and flirted whilst he was at work.

it’s probably the sad distant look in your eyes that makes him realise but levi soon notices the implications of what he’s said and takes back his statement.

“oh no, not you though peaches. that rule doesn’t apply to people i like.”

you feel your cheeks flaring up and look away. maybe you’re annoying, or maybe you’re just a HUGE bet amongst the staff members

you frown thinking of levi and all of the part timers gathered around a table plotting how to make you fall for him just for the fun of it

no... sasha is way too nice and would never let that happen. you’re just overthinking stuff because you’re now feeling insecure.

“oh yeah i know that.” you mumble. he scans your box of croissants then moves onto a jar of nutella all the while glancing up to observe your facial expressions

“hey, are you seriously thinking that i hate talking to you or something?” he asks. to be honest he does seem completely bewildered by that idea.

when he says that you jump back completely surprised that he’s somehow pieced together your thoughts.

you turn around even though you know no customers are around to eavesdrop. you always come in right before closing (don’t worry you’re never obnoxiously late or anything)

“yeah because i don’t know what even made me different that you wanted to reciprocate. this is really dumb to worry about but it felt weird that’s all.”

levi hums and crosses his arms over his chest. staring up at the ceiling he thinks hard for a moment.

“i liked you already so when you started flirting with me i reciprocated. who wouldn’t?”

“who wouldn’t reciprocate or who wouldn’t flirt with me?” you question, it’s not really relevant but you’d like to know

“both.”

“WAIT A SECOND.” you’re in disbelief, his words only sink in now

“YOU CRUSHED ON ME BEFORE I CRUSHED ON YOU?? NO WAY WHY??” you’re leaning over the cash register face directly in front of levi’s

you’re beaming and he thinks this is probably the most confident he’s ever seen you around him. you’re pretty bad at maintaining eye contact but now you’re intently looking right at him and wOWW were your eyes always this pretty??

“i, well. before i started manning the cashier i saw you around and you were really sweet.”

“elaborate.”

you’re going to need him to elaborate because you can’t remember doing anything out of the ordinary.

“you offered to help stack the shelves when jean fell off the step ladder.” he pauses thinking again and digs through his memory

“and when you paid for someone else’s shopping and took items out of your own basket so you’d be able to do it. i don’t know okay you were just WARM.”

“warm?!?!” you ask now standing on your tiptoes leaning even further into him. your heart is BACKFLIPPING right now

“you make people happy.” levi’s now broken eye contact and looks to the side, it’s not because he’s uncomfortable he really just has no clue what to do when your hot breath is fanning onto his cheeks and you’re this close to him

“okay i feel better now!!” throwing your arms around his neck you awkwardly hug him, the cash register jabs into your side slightly but you take the pain, levi’s really good at hugging actually AND if anyone’s warm it’s him!!! not you!!!

you stay like that and he pats your back. you’ve never been this close to him and you find that he smells of mint. it suits him.

but of course connie has to interrupt as per usual!!!

“LOVEBIRDS AT TILL NUMBER FOUR I REPEAT!! LOVEBIRDS AT TILL NUMBER FOUR!!” his voice blares through the speakers and levi tries to escape your embrace most probably wanting to take mic privileges away from him

“let’s stay like this for a bit” you whisper into his neck and he stops moving and sighs choosing to give in.

“fine.” he mutters.

“but only because you asked.” levi draws circles into your back with his index finger and you know what? whatever you and levi are doesn’t matter in this moment. there’s absolutely no need to rush and label things yet

and if you had to choose a label to give him it would be warm

levi is officially your warm person

and you’re his :-)

[serendipityjxmn]

Mr. President

Chapter 21

TW: None

Words Count: 4.3k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 22

You wake up feeling sore all over your body. From top to bottom- it just feels painful. Even opening your eyes seems like a difficult task. But you somehow did.

It takes a while for you to adjust your vision although it is very dim in the room. The next thing you notice is cold fingers wrapped against yours when you try to move yours. That’s when you tilt your head very slightly and glance down to see your husband fast asleep, his free hand beneath his head as a pillow.

You want to call out to him but realize you don’t have a voice. So you result to moving your fingers several times to wake him up.

His eyebrows gather in a frown before he finally opens his eyes. When he lifts his gaze to look at you, he blinks several times.

“Y/N…?” He asks, as if unsure whether you’re really awake. Then he blinks again rapidly before leaning forward and caressing your cheeks with his fingers. “Oh God, oh God you’re really awake.”

You could almost swear that his eyes glisten a little. “You’re fine.. you’re fine..” he says repetitively as his fingers gently squeeze yours.

“W.. water..” you manage to choke out.

Jimin lifts himself immediately and quickly fetches a glass of water. You try to sit up but ends up letting out a whimper when jarring pain shoots across your shoulder.

“No, wait..” he reaches forward like he’s going to embrace you and it’s embarrassing how you feel your heartbeat starts to pick up quickly. He helps you sit up gently and arranges the pillow behind your back for you to lean back comfortably. Then he helps you to drink from your glass.

You let out a long breath once you’re finally done and your throat doesn’t burn so much. You look at your husband and he just shifts uncomfortably.

“You’re so pale.” He says and watch your face registers surprise.

“How- how long have I been out?”

“Almost a week.” He says with a clench in his jaw. Then he reaches forward again, fingers reaching up to lightly push several strands of hair behind your ear. His face is so near and your heart starts beating wildly against your ribs before suddenly the image of him carving your brother’s face and shooting him without mercy comes into your mind. Almost automatically, you jerk away from him. The whole thing had been so traumatising and you’re still very terrified of him.

He flinches when he sees you pull away from his touch like a burn. His expression hard. Then he sighs and pulls back from touching you.

Unconsciously, you pull your blanket tighter. “W-what happened to me?”

He hesitates before answering. “Someone tried to shoot me but missed and the bullet hit you instead. It grazed your shoulder.”

You touch your bandaged shoulder mindlessly. All images of the night in the warehouse then comes hitting you like a truck and suddenly it’s all too overwhelming. Your fingers grip your blanket a little too harshly. “Y- you didn’t have to kill him.” You say softly.

His expression turns furious instantly. “I did. Fullstop. And if it were to happen again, I’d do it all over again.”

You flinch at his words.

“Fuck. I’m- I’m sorry, I- I can’t let him go. Not after what he did to you.” He says softly.

You swallow thickly.

“I.. thank you for saving me..”

He lets out a sigh. “I.. just couldn’t bear the thought of you.. lying there.. you really scared me back there.”

Your gaze softens. “That’s what you do for love. Get hurt for them.. Instead of them.” The words are out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

He looks at you in horror and you bite your lip while muttering sorry.

“No that’s not it… I..” he sigh. You watch his pained expression as he carefully chooses his words. “When we were back there.. and when those bastards touch you.. I was in rage. I.. I wanna tear them apart, limb to limb.”

“You care for me.” You say quietly. You know for a fact that he does. In his own twisted way.

He looks straight at you. “I do.”

For the first time since you wake up, you feel like crying.

“Y/N.” He calls. His expression serious and you find yourself immersed in his piercing stare. You swallow as you look at him expectantly. “Let’s.. start over. Do you want to.. start over.. with me?” He asks and it’s the first time you’ve seen him look so unsure of himself.

You continue to stare at him. A thousand words crossing through your mind but none comes out of your lips.

He swallows. “I.. I care about you. A lot. And I don’t know if this feeling is love or.. not.. but I’m gonna try.. for us.”

Is it weird that you just somehow know Jimin cares for you before he even says it out loud? It’s a foreign feeling for him but you know it better.

But for now, it’s good enough. It’s all that you could ever want. For him to open up and let you in.

Because you want to fill him with warmth and embrace every part of him.

You feel a tear dropping.

“So.. what do you say?”

And suddenly your tears turn into sobs as you frantically nod. His eyes glisten when he sees you breaking into tears and he instinctively leans forward, pulling you gently into a hug. His lips find your forehead and he kisses it tenderly.

“I’m so sorry for everything..” he says softly.

And for a long moment, he just lets you cry on his shoulders.

The doctor comes to check up on you, explains to you of all the side effects you might be having, gives plenty of lectures to your husband and you find it funny how he just sit through it like an adolescent child being told off. Later that evening, you sit in silence as you watch your husband brings you a tray of chicken porridge. You’ve fallen asleep after crying so hard and only wakes up now with your stomach grumbling.

Jimin feeds you the porridge and brings you water every now and then and you just sit in silence as you study his face.

It’s very weird to have him tending to you like this. Like he didn’t just make a killing spree which includes your own brother and the memory makes you recoil. You try to take the spoon saying you’ll feed yourself only to earn a glare from your husband.

When you’re done, he cleans it up and comes back to sit on the chair beside your bed. His fingers find you immediately and you find it weird how it feels so right and natural against yours when in fact you didn’t have much memory of holding his hands.

Unconsciously, your fingers reach to your neck to find your ring and you feel your heart dropping when you realize it’s not there. Jimin sees the look of panic in your face.

“What’s wrong?”

“My- my necklace. Oh my god, my ring-”

His shoulders visibly relax. “Ssh.. relax. It’s in a safe place.” He squeezes your fingers.

And that’s when you notice he doesn’t wear his as well and your look of terror reappear in a speed of light. He’s always worn his ring and you wonder if something went wrong. “Jimin you- you‘re not wearing your ring too oh God- oh God we’re- we’re still married right? Y-you didn’t divorce me or something right??” You ask frantically in utter panic.

He just chuckles. “Relax Y/N.. shh.. I was gonna wait till you’re better but at this rate I think you might die from heart attack. Of course we’re still married, you idiot. I.. I just thought that the rings.. is like the worse part of our marriage.. and they’re all just bad memories for you.. and I want to make it all better for you, so I plan to get new ones and wanted to keep it a secret.. but I guess it’s no longer a secret.” He grins.

You swallow as your fingers play with his, tracing the slight mark left by the ring on his fourth finger. “I… I like the rings.. it means you’re taken..”

He grins even wickedly. “Don’t worry. No one has come for my hand in marriage in the span of two days I don’t wear my ring.” He winks.

He freaking winks.

You blush crazily.

Silence settles again between the two of you before you speak up.

“I.. thought you didn’t care about me..” you say quietly.

“Is that why you went out without security??” He bursts out.

You slowly nod.

“Do you know how fucking stupid that is?” He snaps and you flinch. “Damn it, if you’d just told me.. I would’ve.. given you time.. or space from me or whatever you want. But you decided to escape security, pack your bags and leaves a stupid fucking note saying you’re sorry without any sort of explanation and then just disappears. Did you have a death wish or something??”

You blanch at his words and looks down immediately. It’s not even two hours before he says he’s trying to fix ‘us’ yet he’s here scolding you like you’re a child. “I’m sorry..”

He shuts his eyes for a moment and when they reopen he looks at you softly. “Fuck, I’m sorry for yelling too.”

You swallow bitterly. “I.. Jimin.. if we’re going to do this.. I just want you to know that I can’t share you.. I mean- I won’t.”

He stills for a few moments, just processing your words. Perhaps wondering where this is all coming from. Then he rolls his eyes. “Baby, I just talked about us.”

His term of endearment make your heart skips a beat but you still couldn’t shake the thought that has been haunting your mind. “What about Clara Kim?”

To his credit, he bursts out laughing. “You’re in a coma for almost a week and yet you still can’t forget about her huh?” He says, wiping a nonexistent tear of mirth from his eyes.

You still stare back at him, looking serious.

He realizes you aren’t laughing and just smiles as he takes your hand, wrapping it gently. “No, I’m not hooking up with her. I mean, long time ago yes,” you narrow your eyes, “sorry- but not anymore. I’ve been faithful since I married you. I didn’t sleep with her or anyone for that matter.”

You couldn’t stop the butterflies in your stomach but you still wouldn’t let it go. “Then who’s she?”

“She’s just one of the dealer in my illegal business. You.. don’t wanna know the details they’re.. dangerous.” He gives a plastic smile. “But she’s out now. I cut all sorts of business with her and she’s gone missing too.”

“Missing?”

His jaw tightens. “Because she knows I’d cut her alive if I find her.”

You blanch. Your husband really likes.. cutting people.. a lot.

“I- fuck, damn it. I’m sorry. You should probably rest before I make it worse.” He smiles apologetically.

You take a deep breath, not ready to let it go just yet.

“I- I’ve seen you.. and her in the office.”

“Oh she can be tempting.” He smirks. “Particularly when I don’t agree with her on certain things. But no- I told you I never touch anyone after I married you.”

O.. kay. You can live with that.

“I’ve said horrible things to you..” He starts.

“You did.” You respond almost immediately. All memories of him throwing words like you’re nothing to him comes flashing.

He bit back his words and perhaps wants to defend himself but thinks better of it. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Why.. why didn’t you leave me..? Even when I was so mean to you..”

You just give him a soft smile before reaching to touch his hand. “You told me before.. that I would leave this marriage if I know the reason behind it.. but I know you.. I don’t know why but it just felt like I know you, not the outer appearance you put on. But you on the inside, the beautiful and kind and the attentive man I fell for. You’ve always shut people out.. including me as well.. but I just.. I just want to show you that there are people who cares for you.. that I’m never gonna leave no matter what. Because.. I love you..”

The look he gives you when you utter those words makes you wonder if his heart is skipping a beat too. He smiles at you fondly. “So what do you say?” He suddenly asks.

“Hm?”

He brings your hand to his lips and then he kisses your knuckles. “Say yes..? To this new journey with me..?”

You want to say yes. You really want to.

But there’s something heavy in your heart and it’s something that you just can’t shake off immediately. “I.. I don’t know..” you say after a while, giving up on finding the right words. “You still scare me.. a lot..”

“I understand.” He says quietly.

“Can we.. can we take it slow..?”

He looks at you for a moment and then smiles softly as he nods. “Okay. I’m not gonna rush you into anything.”

You nod as well. “Thank you.. and I’m sorry..”

He quickly shakes his head. “Don’t be.” Is all he says.

For the next few weeks, Jimin takes care of you at the hospital. It’s awkward and you feel it and you know he feels it too. It’s the way your eyes would meet when he hands you something because it isn’t something he usually do. He never does that- he never takes care of anyone, period.

It also doesn’t help how your heart races every time he comes near. Intentionally or unintentionally. And you think for the most part Jimin does things intentionally just to see you all flustered and flushed crimson.

For example, today- is one of the days you wish Jimin is the cold guy you know and not this- flirty Jimin. He walks out of the bathroom, freshly showered. He’d been practically living at the hospital with you, and it’s comfortable enough since he’d so conveniently transferred you to VIP suite room and the room is almost as big as the one you shared with him at home with a King sized bed which he could sleep into with you but he insists to sleep on the massage chair beside the bed or sometimes the couch at the near end of the room because he’s scared he might accidentally hurt you as well as personal bathroom, mini fridge and a small closet.

You gulp and silently curses your rapid pulse because your husband’s not even naked for you to react this way.

He’s just half naked.

He walks out with only his pyjama bottom, his hair still wet from the shower and you feel like salivating over his toned body. His back is vast, almost like you can lay a canvas and draw on it without a problem, and it comes down into a very muscled structure, and on each side of his waist, a V line so deeply engraved looking like a sin on plate as if it’s been carved by the sex God himself. You briefly wonder what kind of exercise he has to do to make those Adonis belt.

He turns around and you look like a deer caught in headlights and you quickly look down while clearing your throat. For a fleeting second though, you think you see his smirk but it’s gone too fast.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to eat now?” He asks, face seemingly too innocent.

You suddenly don’t feel hungry anymore. Not for food, anyway. So you shake your head. “I- I’m just gonna lie down.” Or more like, calm your freaking heart down.

“You sure? You okay? Do you want me to call the doctor? It’s about time he comes anyway-“

You’re about to say no when there’s a knock on the door. And as if he’d been summoned, Doctor Lee appears in the doorway with two others behind him. Jimin lets him in immediately while he puts on his shirt. Thank God all of them are male.

“Evening, Mrs. Park.” The doctor greets you and you just smile at him. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

He eyes the device to your right as he reads your chart. “Your heartbeat seems quicker than normal. Are you feeling alright? Any dizziness or particular pain you’re experiencing?”

You’re pretty sure your face is flaming red now. Jimin looking as if he’s trying to hold his laugh, his shoulders silently vibrating.

“No, no nothing. I’m fine.” You say quickly.

“I’ve looked into your charts and your recent CT scan is fine. I’ll consult with orthopaedic specialist and if everything’s fine, you should be good to be discharged this weekend. You’re very lucky the bullet just grazed your shoulder, otherwise you might’ve caused your husband to become a widower.”

Jimin hisses upon hearing that.

“I wouldn’t say lucky.” You mutter under your breath.

“It’s not a serious wound but you still need some serious recovery. You’re not allowed to do anything heavy. You still suffer from injury around your throat. Any sorts of pain, please inform me immediately.”

You just silently nod. The doctors are about to leave when Jimin calls for Doctor Lee.

“Doctor, can I have a second?” When the doctor nods, he follows him outside. What kind of question does he have that he cannot ask in front of you? You frown.

When he comes in, he sits on the chair beside you and you look at him suspiciously.

“What did you ask the doctor?”

He just gives a sly grin. “I think you don’t wanna know.”

You narrow your eyes and is about to push him for answer when he leans so close to you, and all words slip back down your throat. Your breath hitches when he hovers like he’s about to kiss you.

“You don’t look so pale anymore.” He suddenly says.

What?

He leans backward again making you all confused. His eyes suddenly darts toward your heart rate monitor and your eyes follow his gaze.

And your worst case scenario repeats; the monitor giving away your spiking heart rate.

And your husband finds amusement in confirming the fact that he caused it.

He smiles a little too widely. “Perhaps you shouldn’t really be discharged that quickly.”

“Shut up.” You glare at him and quickly hide yourself under the blanket.

The next morning, you tell the nurse to get you off the machine. She agrees to it, much to your husband’s rolling of eyes.

While you’re in the hospital, Jimin’s group of friends also come to visit.

That morning, Jimin’s spoon-feeding you a bowl of noodle although you resisted at first, only to earn a piercing glare from your husband when there’s a rapid knock on the door. Whoever it is, or are outside doesn’t seem to mind about an invitation because a second later, they barge in with total chaos. The room is instantly filled with large bouquets of flowers and fruits basket.

“God, it smells like newlyweds all over again!” Someone shouts in the midst of all the conversations erupting at the same time.

“Y/N how are you?!” Jungkook asks and doesn’t hesitate to pull you into an embrace, making you wince a little. Jimin pulls him off you instantly.

“Careful, brat.” He glares at the younger boy.

Jungkook’s eyes widen. “Oops, sorry sorry.” He smiles apologetically at you and you just smile back kindly at him.

“How are you feeling Y/N?” Jin asks, he’s already peeling off an apple for you.

“I’m feeling okay. You don’t have to do that Jin.”

He flashes a sweet smile. “Nah, this is nothing.”

“I’m really glad you’re getting better Y/N.” Namjoon says and smiles his dimpled smile.

“Jimin was really beside himself while you’re unconscious.” Hoseok chirps in.

“Yeah, saying something like being stupid or something..” Jungkook says and everybody else laughs while your husband yells at him.

“Shut up, brat.”

Then they each starts a conversation of their own with each other. Your husband discussing some things with Taehyung.

“Did you bring the files I asked for?” Your husband says.

Taehyung nods. “I’ve asked most of them to prepare written reports but there’s some that you might still have to come to the office to look at yourself.”

Jimin just nods.

“You’re planning to work from home for long?” Taehyung asks, tone is slightly hushed, perhaps not wanting you to hear yet you can still hear them.

Jimin glances at you slightly and you quickly pretend to be so interested in Jungkook’s story who’s sitting beside you, talking animatedly.

“I have to take care of my wife.” He says quietly and your heart swells from hearing that.

“Are you.. okay now with Jimin hyung?” Jungkook suddenly asks quietly beside you, taking you off guard.

You frown slightly. You remember Jimin saying only Taehyung knows about the reality of your marriage with him.

“We all know about it now. Jimin hyung himself told us all about it while you were unconscious for days.” He says.

Jin sits on the edge of your bed and hands you a slice of apple he cut and you nod at him gratefully. “Don’t blame him. I think.. he just wants the best for you that’s why he seeks us for some advice.”

You slowly nod. “He’s.. making an effort.”

Hoseok then suddenly comes to join the conversation as well. He softly calls for your name. “And we’re sorry about having you to watch all those.. you know.. back in the warehouse.”

You flinch a little. They all seem really nice, friendly and harmless. But the fact that they are a group of mafias, has more experience of killing people than you’ll ever know makes you shudder. You don’t do well with violence.

“Yeah Jimin’s too caught up in the moment. He should’ve not let you see that.” Jin says kindly.

“Or perhaps someone should’ve covered her eyes better.” Hoseok says, side eyeing Jungkook, making him puff in irritation.

“Oh come on, that’s not fair. Blame Jimin hyung for not controlling himself. He’s the stupid one.” He complains.

“Who’s the stupid one?” Jimin asks, nearing where the conversation is coming from. He takes his seat on your left and Jungkook immediately shuts his mouth.

“So, when can you be discharged?” Hoseok asks.

“If everything’s okay, this weekend.” You smile at him.

“But you still can’t do anything heavy right? A gunshot is still a gunshot.” Jin says.

You nod.

Jungkook smirks. “Huh. No sex for Jimin hyung then.” He says and you choke on the apple you’re eating and cough too much. Everyone looks at Jungkook first then you then Jimin then anywhere else and there’s suddenly an awkward tension in the room and you hope the ground would swallow you whole at that moment.

“It’s okay. There’s plenty other ways.” Jimin says suddenly and your eyes widen. He did not just say that!

“What the fuck hyung! So gross!” Jungkook says while the others are desperately trying to hold their laugh.

You’re thankful you’re now off the heartbeat monitor because if all these happens while you’re attached to the machine.. the doctor would probably come running.

The guys bring you so much laughter but now that they had left, you feel the soreness down to your toes. It’s late evening and you just want to lie back down but you also feel dirty since you haven’t showered or change your clothes.

You’re still in sitting position, your back against the pillows and you unconsciously moan when your head hit the pillow behind, eyes shut.

You could almost drift to sleep immediately if your entire body doesn’t suddenly become alarmed when you feel a hand coming up to your rib where the hospital gown’s knot is situated. One simple act of untying the knot and you’d be naked from top to bottom because you’re completely bare on the inside.

Your hand reaches out to grip his immediately, stopping his act. He seems surprised for a moment but immediately relaxes. “You need to change clothes and bathe.”

“You.. are not going to undress me. Or bathe me.” You say in all seriousness.

He rolls his eyes. “I’ve seen more than this.” He snorts and you flush all shades of red.

You try to say no to him changing your cloths or bathing you but he’s very adamant about it and you sigh in surrender. And it’s more likely because you’re already worn out and couldn’t take off your cloth on your own.

If your naked body somehow affects him, he surely does a good job hiding it. Perhaps your pride is bruised, a little.

All he does is just gentle and tenderness as he wipes your whole body with wet towel and you almost buckle in full embarrassment. Once the whole tedious process is done, he guides you to your bed, tucking you in as his body is flush against yours. His embrace is so warm against your cold blanket and you almost shut your eyes from the warmth.

He starts to pull away once you’re tucked in bed but you grip his arm tight before he could go away, eyes already fluttered close. He seems unsure at first but then decides to just hug you till you’re sound asleep. So he lets your head fall across his chest and silently prays you don’t hear his rapid heartbeat.

You lean close to him, as if pulled by his smell. You’ve always liked his smell and it’s your most favourite smell in the world.

You thought you only said it your mind but little did you know, you muttered it under your breath and Jimin being a few centimetres away catches on it, making his lips quirk up in a fond smile. His head dips down slightly and softly presses his lips against the crown of your head.

You fall asleep in his arms like that.

A/N: Weeee hope you guys like the chapter <3 4.3k words phew- that's a bit long but uhhh not gonna apologize xD see you guys in the next chap! ;) p/s i hope yall are ready for jimin's change in behaviour hewhewhew

Buy me a coffee here!

Link to Chapter 22

Posted on 210519 9:00PM

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

🕯Anon said : Can I request headcanons with a Modern Au Teacher!Erwin and his s/o is a slightly famous artist like a painter that’s always in the basement. Maybe have a moment where the art teacher begs him to bring them to the school when they find out who Erwin is with. ? 🕯

Teacher!Erwin brings you, a famous painter, to work.

{ Erwin x Reader | tw:none | fluff, suggestive kiss | modern }

{ "Leisurely Sunday in the Villa Comunale in Naples" 1993 by Francesco Tammaro Born in 1939 }

Grassy fields surrounded the old big building as the trees undressing of their leaves onto the sidewalks, currently being swept away by the janitor.

Students were filling the halls, the sound of chatter and laughter following after. Outside in the yard, the whistle of the gym teacher could be heard following by heavy footsteps as the football team started their morning practice. Not long after the bell rang, the halls were empty again only for some crumbled papers and snack covers left behind.

"Pigs, all of them. There's a trashcan right there." Levi scrunched his nose at the smell of axe spray and deodorant near the trophy cases. "Tell Miche to spray his running monkeys with soap every once in a while."

"Now now, what got you so grumpy this early in the morning?" Adjusting the lab coat on their suit, Hange replied. "Oh cut the kids some slack, their big game is coming soon or something."

"And he's been implenting a more strick hygiene policy." Said Erwin, holding a plastic binder with a stack of exam papers, mostly marked red. "He's trying to convince the principal to ban deodorant during practice because it's making his nose burn."

Huffing in response, Levi crossed his arms. "Yeah because the principle will definitely listen to him after that whole sniffing people scandal- Hey! Brats, don't you have classes"

As Levi went to scold the two students currently hanging a handmade poster for the upcoming game on the wall, a couple of students came up to Hange, looking in a hurry as they explained the Science lab was locked and they're getting tired of sitting on their backpacks outside.

Soon after, Erwin too made his way to class.

Upon entering the room, the talking quieted down as the squeaking sound of people going back to their own desks followed. Walking upfront, Erwin dropped the binder on his desk beside the empty mug, a couple of groans filled the room as the students realised what it was.

"Mr.Smith, didn't we just take the test yesterday? Shouldn't you like...I don't know double check or something? Maybe you rushed grading them?" One student called from the back as some chuckles and agreement followed from the rest.

Taking the stacks of papers out, Erwin made his way between the students, giving each on their graded paper. "I don't know Connie, maybe you should've double checked your answers instead?"

The playful atmosphere of the classroom was cut short as the door slammed open, making everyone freeze in their seats, none other than the art teacher walked in.

Nile Dawk, current art teacher who fails at least a quarter of his class each year. Who has oh just the most swell relationship with Erwin and anyone can tell you that.

You see, Erwin adored art, both the classic and the modern. Nile admired history and knew just how each art era had its link to a historical event.

And the pair couldn't stand each other.

Crossing his arms, Nile said "Erwin, you have explaining to do." Before dropping a newly printed magazine onto his desk, 

Its cover, showing a brand new art museum that just finished construction and is hosting a lot of different paintings from unrecognised underground talents. 

"Nile, I think you misunderstand. I teach history, I'm not an architect." He said raising an eyebrow, before tilting his head as if he's deep in thought, "or do you want me to explain what a museum is?"

Sneering at his remark, Nile flipped through the pages till he reached a certain one. It depicted a one of the paintings that will be displayed in the museum, a portrait of a blond man with broad shoulders and sharp blue eyes seemingly distracted from reality by the book in his hand.

The soft glow of the fireplace next to the red armchair he sat in, adding a certain orange hue to his light complexion. His long fingers holding the leather book as a glass-stained maroon vase sat on the small table behind him, containing a single red rose.

It's clear from the details poured into his eyes and the shading for each strand of his hair that whoever made this painting, held a great affection for the man.

"Now Mr.history teacher, care to explain why your face is on this painting? By one of the few promising artists of this useless generation?."

Hushed murmurs filled the classroom as students took out their phones googling the name y/n, showing each other the said painting while staring with wide eyes at Erwin.

Rubbing his temple with his fingers, Erwin frowned at the scene the other was causing. Knowing very well it won't take long for this fire to spread, he decided to add more fuel to the flames.

He took a long breath, before telling the class to quiet down with a stern expression. 

"Mr.Dawk, are you really asking me why y/n, my love, the person I'm married to, paint me?" He said facing the other, looking directly into his eyes. "Maybe you should ask y/n instead if you're so insisting on forcing yourself in my private life."

Narrowing his eyes, Nile snorted. "You know what Erwin? Maybe I should.

And that's the story Erwin told you while having dinner that day.

He looks at you with pleading eyes as if to silently apologise for dragging you into this mess, his plate still half full and drink untouched.

Please reassure him that it's alright, you don't mind taking a day off to visit his work

He'll reach out to gently squeeze your hand in his, whispering a small thank you as his thumb rubs against your skin.

He also says he'll do the dishes that day, you can go rest and he will join you in bed after a while, a relieved smile on his face.

The next day, as he wakes up early like usual. He makes sure to wake you up with a kiss, stroking your face before murmuring "good morning" against your lips. 

He knows because of your work you don't wake up early, so he's really patient and understanding if you happen to get grumpy for a while.

Handing you a warm drink to help wake you up, he'll make sure you eat something before changing and heading out.

You're not surprised to find him already done and dressed himself.

Hair as perfect as usual.

On the drive to school, you'll feel the cool morning air against your skin while your head leans back into the seat, eyes fluttering shut.

You can have your mini nap, Erwin will make sure to wake you up when you arrive.

When arriving, he made sure to open the car door for you. The fresh air and green scenery surrounded you both.

When arriving at the teacher's lounge, you're almost surprised to see two people already there from how early it was.

The first was sitting on the old black couch near the window, his dirty blond bangs covering his eyes. The second you could see making tea on the other side of the room Where the kitchenware was.

Both of them glanced up when Erwin called their name, staring at the way he had an arm wrapped around your waist while introducing you.

It was Miche who came first, standing from the couch you noticed just how tall he was. Offering your hand for him to shake, only for him to pull you into a tight hug instead.

He pulled away, tapping his nose before a smile slowly formed on his face, nodding in approval

The second was Levi, who ignored your offered hand only to sip on his teacup, assessing you up and down.

Not too long after, a person with a messy ponytail and a colorful lab coat arrived.

They took one glance at you, then the matching wedding rings on yours and Erwins fingers before taking an immediate interest in you.

Hange asked questions faster than you can answer them, with sparkling eyes and a wide smile.

At the first sign of you being uncomfortable, it was Levi who stepped in to tell Hange to tone it down before apologizing to you.

And it was Miche who got you some snacks from the teacher's secret stash after.

You've heard stories and one sided phone calls about them from Erwin, yet it still didn't prepare you for actually meeting them.

While overwhelming at first, the more time you spent talking as Erwin reassuringly sat beside you, you noticed how genuinely interested they were.

Levi, while seemingly cold, was actually the most considerate and paid the most attention to you. He'd step in whenever things got too much and would be really polite despite having a colourful language. By the end of it he even made you some tea, something that seemed to surprise Erwin and the rest.

"It's just...he never trusted someone this quickly before."

Hange was genuinely interested in you, having researched you and your art beforehand. They really were eager to hear even the most boring details and were capable of understanding your way of thinking. They even gave you a small rubber frog they carried around in their pocket to hand out. It would've been cute wasn't for the fact immediately after they mentioned the real human skeleton they have pinned to the lab door.

"His name is bean! I've been actually investing into getting him a human heart for Valentine's day, but all the ones I've found so far were in jars."

The most quiet of them was actually Miche, although he'd smile at you whenever you looked his way. Despite his intimidating size you learned how harmless and easy going he is, the most chill out of the three. He did mention knowing Erwin for the longest time out of them, having been childhood friends even. He promised to tell you all the embarrassing secrets Erwin tried to erase from existence as he added his number on your phone.

"He ain't as proper as he looks, I got the dirt on him."

You saw Erwin's jaw tightening before he changed the subject quickly, giving the side eye to Miche who only smiled back.

The rest of the day went by smoothly, Erwin didn't leave your side for one minute and made sure to check on you constantly. 

He introduced you to the rest of the teachers and seemed only amused at any teasing he got from students passing by.

By the end of the day, as the sun began to set and the students already done with their clubs, you and Erwin had one final place to go.

The art classroom.

"Just one more thing before that" he told you, guiding you into an empty classroom.

You saw his desk, the mug you gifted him on father's day as a joke sat on his desk, several paper sketches you made were framed next to it.

It was his classroom, with only you and him, the door open.

He closed it.

You stood against his desk as he moved closer, arms circling you, not breaking eye contact.

"May I?" He whispered, licking his own lips.

As he got your permission, he pressed his lips against yours, arm stroking your back before pulling away after some seconds.

He rubbed your swollen bottom lip with his thumb, a small smile on his face before pulling away.

Your heart was still fluttering against your chest as you left the classroom, while Erwin seemed to be smiling at nothing with a slight curl to his lips, steps more lighter than before.

Right after that he took you to the art classroom. The smell of oil paint and sound of brushes scratching against paper filling the air.

Stepping inside, the scratching sound stopped as a certain black haired man stared at you, eyes wide and lips parted.

Disbelief clear in his face, Nile was quick to mask his emotions as he noticed the smugness Erwin was in.

"Nile, I'd like to introduce you to my lovely darling, y/n." There was a chipper to Erwin's voice as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. 

[citydreamgrls]

they were roommates - part two

a weasley twins x fem!reader fic

summary: she had nowhere to go, fleeing home to pursue something along the lines of freedom, so being welcomed into the entrepreneurial twins life was a whole world of new experiences waiting to happen.

an: thank you for the overwhelming love for the first part of this series, which i will link HERE for you guys!! also MASSIVE thank you for over 700 followers, when i posted the first part i was just hitting 600, so this has been crazy, love you always and hope you enjoy <333

words: 4,949

A warmth covered y/n’s face as she grumbled to herself, trying to roll herself away from the light that spilled in from the large windows. Her eyes squinted uncomfortably and the noise of the room finally settled into her head bit by bit.

The sound of a coffee machine whirring, doors opening and closing, and the faint sound of the morning radio show that Neville would often play at the inn. It all felt so new, yet so familiar.

“Morning sleepyhead,” The girl frowned, sitting up and rubbing her eyes to see one of the twins place a mug on the small coffee table nearby. “Feelin’ better?” The girl nodded, feeling guilty that she once again couldn’t tell whether it was Fred or George that was talking to her.

“I’m sorry- this is really rude but, are you Geor-”

“I’m Fred.” He didn’t seem bothered by her wild guess, standing up as if nothing was amiss and heading to the kitchen. “Come and get something to eat will you, or else it’ll get cold!” He called back, disappearing to find his brother and leaving her to pull on a nearby hoodie.

She shuffled over to the table, a small chuckle sounding out at the sight of their plates. Piled high with more food than she’d usually eat in a whole day, the girl sat down and started on a piece of toast, hoping they wouldn’t mind her starting a little prematurely.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” George laughed, his twin obviously urgent to have them sit down together for breakfast. Was this normal for them, or was she the exception? They both wore matching suits, dressed for their day of work, with the difference being that Fred’s tie was red and George’s blue.

One glance at the clock and the girl wanted to head straight back to bed, but if she wanted to thank them properly for their hospitality, then it needed to be before the shop opened anyway. Their sofa had felt like heaven, and now she needed to leave it behind and fend for herself.

The two men sat across from her at the table, as they had done the night before. But now the jeans and t-shirts had been forgotten, and their once loose hair was now fixed neatly. It was funny to the girl how they could pull off two extremes so well.

They sat with a grin on their face, watching her sip on her coffee warily, unsure as to what they were waiting for.

“Are you two okay?” Please don’t let them be creeps, not now. She begged to herself, seeing them exchange a nod before looking back to her once again.

“We have an idea to offer up,” Fred started.

“One that will benefit both of us.” George added in, y/n urging them on with her sunny smile. She couldn’t help but smile around them, it was like they were made to make people laugh.

“We’ve been saying for a while that we need help in the shop,”

“Someone to cover the tills when we’re talking to customers mainly,” “Oh yeah, we hate the tills.” They went a little off track, but managed to catch train of thought again.

“Anyway,” George chuckled, seeing her look of confusion. “You need somewhere to stay, and we can’t afford to pay for someone to work in the shop.” “So, if you agree to help out then we’ll let you stay here.” “With us!”

They waited, a small moment of silence as they watched her face for a reaction. The news took a second to process, as she realised it was the ideal outcome for both of them. That way she wouldn’t feel in debt to them if she stayed, either.

Her head bobbed up and down very slowly, the two men sharing a look of pride as they high fived like kids. The girl stood up, racing over to their side of the table and wrapping her arms around them both.

“Thank you so much,” She didn’t dare speak too loud, in case she broke the floodgates on their shoulders.

Fred and George chuckled, squeezing an arm each before reassuring her that it was fine, they didn’t want her to feel as though she owed them the whole time.

“I’ll help out anywhere I can, I mean it, not just in the shop either-”

“Y/n,”

“I can cook, I can do the laundry or- or even just shop for food every week.”

“Calm down,” Fred laughed, seeing her fall into a rant over her possible chores.

“We don’t need you to do all that!” George teased, ruffling her already messy hair and heading off to the bathroom.

“Better get ready quickly, looks like there’s already a queue out there!” He chimed, peering his head to look from one of the windows to the street below, where hoards of excited kids were already waiting to get inside.

“Come on then y/n, we’ll show you everything don’t worry.” Fred had noticed the way her smile faltered at the warning of so many people all at once, she’d never had a job before working at the leaky cauldron and now she needed to learn everything in one go.

She got up, wasting no time, and made herself look presentable. The girl grabbed her open case and pulled out some black trousers and a green cardigan to put on, slipping into the bathroom once George was finished to get changed.

“I’ll go open up!” She heard him shout once the door was shut, and she stumbled around trying to be as quick as possible. Once she charmed her hair to wave nicely and cast a quick freshen up spell, y/n found Fred waiting in the living room.

“Here,” he held a little badge inside his large palm, the swirly writing showing her name. “That way, everyone will know who you are.”

Y/n took it from him, a wide smile on her face as she placed it onto her cardigan. Only a handful of people had ever bothered to learn her name when she was pulling pints, the twins included, but now everyone would know it. They wanted people to know it.

Fred felt his cheeks blush at the way she squealed with excitement, her previous nerves nowhere to be seen as she bounded towards the door of the loft.

“Wait for me!” He laughed, running after her, grabbing his jacket that hung on the back of the chair.

The girl ran down the few flights of stairs that were out of sight before running into the chaos. Now, the shop that she had seen sleeping the night before burst into action before her eyes. The entire place was a cacophony of lights, sparks and laughter. A small crowd of children watched in awe as George showed off yet another variety of firework, their cheers of delight echoing up to where y/n watched from.

“Come on then, better get on the tills before people start nicking things.” Fred nudged the girl’s back a little and she happily weaved through the shop to reach the little counter where an old till sat waiting for them. People were already waiting to pay, so Fred took charge, giving her a chance to watch what he did before giving it a go herself.

-

After the initial shock of the morning, y/n easily settled into the flow of the shop, working well between the two twins who watched her proudly while she served customers. It was around midday, and less and less people were coming in as the time passed, giving the three of them a chance to relax after the neverending hoard they’d dealt with.

“It’ll pick up again-” Fred laughed, leaning against the counter as she sat upon it and sighed happily.

“It always does, every single day-” George joined. “Without fail.”

“At about two normally.”

Working there was such a difference to the bar that she almost felt surprised when people would greet her with the same smile she’d give them. That had been a rarity when all she had been to people previously, was a barmaid.

“I love it here,” The girl admitted, swinging her feet off the side of the counter like a child. George was moving boxes from the back onto the shopfloor, opening each one and emptying the contents onto shelves. She wondered how he hadn’t run out of space yet, there was already a surplus of things everywhere she looked.

“I’m glad you do.” Fred beamed, turning to look at her.

“Hey! You guys, we’ve got a new shipment of bottled weather!” George pulled them from their daydream, calling the pair over to see what he’d found.

“What’s that?” She asked.

“Well it’s weather… in a bottle.” Fred tried to explain, but saw he wasn’t much help. “It’s probably just easier to show you.” He chuckled nervously, fishing through the cardboard box until he found one he liked the look of. “See, this one’s a rainbow.”

He screwed open the top, leaning back a little so that the beam of colour could release itself without hitting him in the face. Him and George had learnt to avoid it the hard way when they started selling them a year ago.

Y/n’s face lit up, watching it bounce around in the air until it found its place and settled into a perfect curve.

“Wow,” Her eyes surveyed it intently, wanting to reach out and touch it, but knowing that would most likely end up bad. “That’s incredible!” The man beside her swooped the jar over it and pressed the lid on tightly, the strip of colour disappearing once again in front of her eyes.

“Oh yeah, they’re incredible, until every fourteen year old boy wants to open one and suddenly there’s a load of rain clouds in here and plenty of puddles for me to clean up!” George grumbled, finishing up with that box and heading off to find another. The girl giggled, unable to picture his tall figure with a measly mop.

“He’s not a fan of the rain.” Fred whispered to her, not helping the giggling to go down. “Personally, I love it.” “Me too, well, I used to.”

Their quiet moment was caught off guard by the sound of the bell tinkling, telling them that someone was coming in. A voice called out, one that she vaguely recognised, but couldn’t for the life of her know the name to go with it.

“Fred! George! It’s Harry!” Well, that was always helpful.

“By the till mate!” He called back, standing up from the counter to give him a quick hug.

She recognised this man’s face, he’d been in the leaky cauldron with them a couple times over the past months. But he had very rarely spoken to her, just the quick exchange when he would get another round for everyone.

Harry’s face seemed to reflect his confusion, surprised to see her sitting with a nametag on that matched the twins’ instead of behind the bar. Still, she smiled his way, which he eventually returned.

“It’s good to see you again y/n, are you- do you work here now?” He looked to Fred for confirmation, to which the man just nodded.

“She’s staying with us for a bit, and INSISTED on helping out.”

“So you’ve set her to work so soon, how charming.” Harry joked, greeting George when he reappeared with another handful of boxes to unpack, surely they didn’t do this every day?

She watched the sun outside as it danced through a select few shop windows, including one of their own, the stream flying in and lighting up the small flecks of dust that flitted across her line of sight. It was easy for the girl to get lost in her own thoughts, drowning out the sound of Fred and Harry talking enthusiastically about quidditch as she basked in the warmth that hit her legs.

George came up behind her, placing a few boxes down beside her.

“Could you do me a favour,” She jumped a little at his voice, nodding when she realised what he’d asked of her.

“Of course,” “I took some paperwork up to the loft the other night, it’s on the desk in my room, could you grab the invoices for these wonderwitch packages and bring them down. I need to go set up the blasted thing, and god knows Fred won’t be helping any time soon.” He grinned, rolling his eyes at his brother and their friend getting more and more excited about something.

The girl got up with a smile, taking a quick mental note of how many different products there were before the man took them away to be set up near the front window. She scurried off, bounding up the stairs with a spring in her step. By the time she reached the top she was well out of breath, but it didn’t matter. Never in her life had she been treated with such kindness from almost strangers, not to mention that they actually seemed to like her.

George’s door was half-ajar, his open window blowing the light curtains around gently, as she walked inside. It felt cosy, yet fresh, in there. His bed was neatly made and everything seemed to be put away very methodically, much like how he preferred to display things in the shop. Whereas Fred was the one who would just shove things anywhere.

As long as people buy it!

He had told George nearly four times just that morning, unfazed by the way his brother went around correcting it all once he was seemingly out of sight. Fred never mentioned it, leaving the other twin to do as he pleased.

But it seemed as though George’s desk was the one place where all the rules on organisation went, quite literally out the window, as there were sheets and quills and parchment all over the place. She sighed, getting to work on finding what she needed.

-

Downstairs, Fred and Harry had just about talked each other's ears off about Ginny’s last match, discussing how amazing she had been as her teams substitute seeker when the actual player had gotten a mild concussion.

“She’s training all day today so that’s why I’m delivering her messages today.” Harry chuckled, knowing that Fred would make some kind of remark about his sister bossing him about so easily. In truth, he didn’t mind. “She wanted me to let you know that she’s gonna pop by later and visit after practice.”

“Ah! So we’ll be seeing her more than you, poor boy.”

“Be quiet, I’ve booked her all weekend.” Harry huffed, just glad to have his fiance to himself for more than one evening at a time.

“So, how’s things with y/n getting on?” He asked the twins when George came over to catch up with the younger wizard.

“She’s doing great, given that it’s only her first day.”

“Yeah, and we’re actually sorting out a surprise for her.” Fred peeked up the flight of stairs, seeing no sign of the girl. “Come on, we’ll show you before she comes back.”

The three of them went to the storage room round the back of the counter, where George had been ferrying boxes out of all morning.

“We’re gonna clear all this out and then get her some furniture and posters and the like, make it feel a bit more homely for her.”

“Woah, so you guys must like her.” Harry laughed, nodding at the large amount of room there was when nothing was stacked up inside.

“She’s worth it, isn’t she Freddie.”

“She deserves it, you mean.”

-

By the time the girl found the paperwork George had asked for, Harry had left to go see Neville and Hannah, just in time for the afternoon rush to start up and distract them all once again.

Fred kept an eye on the girl, who continued to happily serve behind the till, from the safety of the shelves where he was taking a break between product demonstrations. George, he hoped, would finish clearing out the storage room by the end of the day so that they could get to work fixing it up for her while she slept in the loft that night.

The two twins became so overwhelmed with jobs to do that day, that both of them forgot to mention to y/n that their sister Ginny was to visit that evening. Only getting a chance to speak to their new worker once the last customer left and the front doors were locked shut.

“That seemed like more people than last week eh Georgie?”

“I could barely reach the back shelves; there were so many of them, at least most of them are small so I can just reach over their heads.”

“Still, it’s good business.”

“Hey- where’s y/n gone?”

Fred found the girl near the back of the shop, her cardigan slumped over a nearby chair, as she swung her wand back and forth. The broom beside her followed perfectly, sweeping the floor of mess that had been trudged about throughout the day. She clocked the man behind her and smiled.

“I’ll finish up sweeping then do a once over with the mop.”

“Jesus, I don’t think we’ve ever cleaned that much!” Fred laughed, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Why don’t you head up and chill out, you’ve done more than enough for us already.”

“Are you sure?” Her eyebrows joined together in a concerned frown, but the man could only smile down at her and nod.

“Go on, we won’t be long anyway.”

The girl thanked him and went up the stairs, flashing a grin George’s way when she passed him.

“Good idea, now we can get some furniture in without her seeing.” He whispered, crediting his brother’s sharp mind.

“Come on Georgie, you need a break sometimes too, we can finish it off tomorrow anyway.” They both looked up in the direction of the loft when music came filtering down.

“Do you think she’s really happy here Freddie?”

“She seems it.” He shrugged. “She always seems happy, but do you think she really is.”

“Probably… I hope so.” “Me too.” George hummed, finally giving up his task of the day and offering to get them dinner from a nearby muggle restaurant while Fred finished brushing up behind the counter.

The music got louder, but he didn’t mind. Most days, him and George would be too tired to do much together besides their weekly pub visits. And even then it was only because someone else would persuade them to take a break. Now, just having y/n around, was like taking a breath of fresh air amongst their hectic and exhausting days.

Fred saw a flash of long blonde hair pass the front of the shop window, flattering slightly before moving off again. He scrambled to his feet, watching as he saw his little sister’s friend a little further down the alley.

“Luna!” He called out, waving when she turned slowly, a genuine smile on her face. She always was happy to see people.

“Hello Fred. It’s been such a long time, how are you?”

“I’m not bad, how are things with you- how is Rolf and the Boys?”

-

Y/n flung herself on the sofa, her legs aching with the day’s work well behind her. The guitar whined out in its case to be used, but she couldn’t find the energy to even pick it up, let along strum something decent. So she flicked her wand towards the radio, the stations passing by until she found one she liked, turning it up with a content smile.

Not long after, there was a flash from the fireplace that sat lonely at one end of the loft’s long living room. The girl jolted up, not having seen a floo line used very often when she lived at one. For a second the green flames put her in a trance, her mind forgetting that it meant someone was going to appear in the room before her.

A tall girl, wearing just jeans and a hoodie stood before her, a bewildered and yet excited look on her face. She turned towards the radio that was blasting out an old rock song, the red hair on her head bobbing as she dropped her sports bag and laughed.

“I love this song!”

-

“Give the twins a kiss from me!” Fred called after Luna, glad to have caught her when he did. With her husband always off exploring new magical creatures, she was often left with her hands full looking after the young twins. Still, she seemed composed as ever.

“There you are, took long enough!” George rolled his eyes at his brother’s words, holding out a bag for Fred to take from his one hand.

“Yeah well I was just going to get enough for the three of us but remembered Ginny was coming and thought she must be hungry after practice.” He explained.

“Oh yeah of course- wait!”

“GINNY!” They both exclaimed, the twins rushing to lock the shop doors behind themselves so they could warn their newest tennant of their little sister’s arrival.

But when they both burst into the loft, they realised there was nothing to worry about. The sight of both girls dancing around the kitchen together and laughing along to the way neither of them could get the lyrics right, settling their nerves.

“So I see you two have met.”

“Brothers!” Ginny laughed, making no moves to greet them, too enthralled in the girl’s company. She had friends on her quidditch team of course, and her siblings and their fiances. But god she loved new people, especially when they were always up for a good time like she was. “I love her! Can we keep her! Please, please, please.” She begged, gripping the girl’s arm like a whining child.

“Y/n’s our guest okay, so play nice.” Fred grumbled, setting down the food and letting everyone help themselves.

“I’m always nice, see I got the drinks ready for everyone.” Hey! That’s ours.” George pointed to the bottle of wine she had already cracked open.

“Exactly, ours.” Ginny giggled, passing him a glass, which would no doubt keep him quiet until he had one too many, then you’d never shut him up.

All four of them clinked glasses, the twins soon loosening up and matching their sister’s party attitude as they joined in with the girls’ dancing. George was headbanging like a madman, his grown out hair flying all over his eyes. His mother had been begging to cut it like she had done when they still lived at home, but he realised he had always preferred it longer. Fred had done the same, keeping his a bit neater around the edges than his brother, but enjoying the length over the breeze he felt whenever it got shorter.

Ginny had always seen the twins as nuisances when she was younger and still at school, but after the war ended she learnt to enjoy her life a little more. That was when she finally realised that they had been doing so all along. The youngest Weasley sibling then decided to join a professional quidditch team and take life one day at a time, her mother had been horrified of course, but like the twins she couldn’t deny how good Ginny was when she whizzed through the sky.

-

Y/n got to know the girl better, as their glasses were refilled by George everytime they took a sip. He always did enjoy hosting, especially when he was getting as drunk as everyone else. The four of them had danced for what felt like hours, grateful for the lack of neighbours, then collapsed onto the sofa where they continued to share stories and finish off another three bottles of wine between them.

“These two threw water over me and blamed Ron!” Ginny laughed, reminiscing on their summer holidays at the burrow.

“Mum would have never believed us!”

“I can’t remember why she did?” The twins protested, their many pranks over the years made it hard to recall smaller ones such as drenching their sister in her sleep.

“Because you timed it so that when mum went to find Ron he was filling up a bucket to water the plants!” She explained, having heard the other brother’s recollection every time it was brought up at a family dinner.

“Ah yes!” They said in unison, the girl in between them in fits of giggles over their mischievous side.

“You two really are trouble,” she chuckled, keeping her nearly empty glass out of George’s sight in fear of having a horrible hangover the next morning. At least the shop was closed on Sundays, or else they would have all struggled.

“You can’t escape!” Fred boomed, acting like a brainless zombie.

“We’ve trapped you.” His brother joined in.

“Good luck with these two, they’ve obviously tried to keep the chaos hidden… but it’ll come out sooner or later.” Ginny laughed, checking the time with a humorous face. “Good lord, I better get back before Harry starts sending owls after me.”

“He can wait!” George whined, pouring into her glass as she tried to stand up.

“I know he can Georgie, but I’ve also had a very long day at the pitch so I need to get some sleep soon.” Her legs turned to jelly as she wobbled over to her sports bag, staggering under its weight. The redhead waved goodbye from the fireplace, taking a handful of floo powder and announcing her address before bursting into flames.

Y/n sort of wished that Ginny would have stayed longer, as she was only just beginning to know her properly. But she too couldn’t deny the wave of fatigue that hit her like a brick wall the second she blinked a little longer than she should have.

“Tired darling?” George sneered from beside her, waking her again.

“Oh no… not at all.”

“Leave her be, you can sleep if you want- we won’t disturb you.” Fred leant over her to shove his brother playfully.

“You should sleep too Georgie-” She teased, her drunken smile still just as perfect as her regular one.

“And why’s that sunshine?”

“Because you’ve been moving all those boxes, you must be exhausted by now!”

Both men froze a little, concerned that she’d noticed him working on the storage room all day. Fred eyed his brother, urging him to say something in the awkward silence they had created.

“Uh- yeah- well, we need to make space for a new shipment.” George lied, in a panic, the other twin silently grimacing and how awful he was under pressure.

“That means things are selling right? That’s good?” She looked between them, seemingly oblivious to the way the men were freaking out in their heads.

“Alright- alright we’ll go to bed!” Fred laughed, breaking the tension, and standing up to clear the coffee table of glasses and plates. George joined him, wanting to avoid any more possible interrogation if he could help it.

The girl reached for the bowls before her but they cut her off.

“We can do all this, you get some sleep okay?” George smiled sweetly, to which she just nodded, too tired to argue back this once.

“Thanks,” She murmured, reaching into her case to find her pyjamas.

While she went to change in the bathroom, the two men stood together in the kitchen, very aware that they were quite drunk by now.

“She’s good isn’t she,” George mused, stacking more plates into the sink that washed them.

“See, I knew you’d come round to her.” Fred accused. “I didn’t dislike her!”

“You weren't mad about her.” 

“And you are?”

There was a moment of silence, which worried George, as he knew his brother all too well. If what he’d asked wasn’t true, then Fred would immediately deny it, in turn sounding guilty. But the silence always meant he was right.

“She’s different,” He finally spoke up, focusing his attention on drying whatever came from the sink.

“She’s also living here Freddie.”

“I know, it’s not ideal, but I just like her.” “Everyone likes her, she’s well- she’s her.” George stuttered, never having heard his brother talk about a girl this way before. Even his high school crushes had been purely based on appearances.

“Exactly, I can’t help it.”

“And say you tell her- and she doesn’t feel the same, which is very possible-” “I know.” Fred snapped.

“She has nowhere else to go, and telling her something like that would force her away… you know it would.”

The sound of the bathroom door opening echoed across the loft, making both men jolt into action, trying to seem as natural as possible despite the air of awkwardness around them.

“Night you two,” Y/n smiled, leaning into the kitchen.

“Night darling.” George replied, wondering whether he should drop that nickname around Fred.

“Night y/n.” He barely looked up from the sink, watching his reflection distort in a handful of spoons, with the hope that she would just go to bed.

The girl, luckily for him, was still very much tipsy and didn’t notice anything wrong with either of the twins as she turned and headed for the sofa. George stepped closer to the sink, watching to make sure she couldn’t hear them.

“Look Fred,” He whispered.

“It doesn’t matter okay, leave it.” He threw the cloth down with an agitated sigh, obviously not having thought over the consequences to his little crush, and went to leave.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

[quantumlocked310]

Order Up! Part 1 of 2

Extra Hot Hvitserk Macchiato for @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom on the bar!

Summary: You finally run into the cute barista from your favorite coffee shop when he’s not working. Will he be charming enough to lure you into bed? Or are you confident enough to invite him in yourself?

Warnings: Tooth Rotting Fluff, Slow Burn, Smut will be in Chapter 2

Note: This is technically a sequel, but can be read without reading Pour Overs and Pastries. (but that one is really cute, so you absolutely should if you haven’t)

Crossposted on AO3

+++++

The new job was going swimmingly. Your coworkers loved you, and you were crushing problems left and right. You’d even saved the company several thousand Krone by finding a smoother, more efficient way to execute some accounting procedures. The company was so happy they’d taken the chance on you, even though they had to go through all the trouble of coordinating the visa and moving you from New York to Denmark.

You’d fallen in love with the city, and your new life. Each workday you begin with coffee from Lothbrothers. The office has a little kiosk in the foyer, but the coffee from the little shop with the cute barista is worth the extra expense.

For three months your morning routine is peppered with pleasant conversation from Sigurd, local gossip with Ivar, and a whole bunch of covert staring at the muscles in Hvitserk’s back as he putters around the bar.

Two weeks into your daily trips to the shop, Ivar had turned to you while waiting for your drink and demanded your name saying, “Du er kommet her i to uger…” before seeing the look of immense confusion on your face and switching to English while rolling his eyes. “You’ve been coming here for two weeks now. Guess you’re a regular. Why are you in Denmark?”

You’re a little taken aback at his abrupt tone, but seeing as he has spent the last two weeks staring holes into his computer it is possible he’s just a little intense. You turn to him and say “A new job. I moved from New York,” but almost can’t spit it out, because as soon as you turn to answer him his icy blue eyes capture you in their magnetic pull.

You blink and he’s no longer looking you in the eye. “New York is a long way. Why Denmark?”

Shrugging you rest a hip on the counter and check your watch quickly. “It was the first overseas company I found willing to hire an American in the position I wanted. I’m very lucky, and very good at my job. Not to mention the perk of viking men.” You wink at this handsome stranger, and he looks away, a little flustered. Perhaps if you can’t catch the barista’s eye, you’ll have fun with this Dane instead.

“Latte for Y/N.” A voice growls from your side, and you turn around to grab your drink.

“Thank you, Hvits…” He is gone before you can finish his name, without so much as a “Thank you for coming,” like usual.

You frown, but suppose it must be busier than usual and turn back to the stranger you’d been conversing with. “Excuse me, I have to run to work, but it was very nice to meet you.”

“And you as well.” The stranger waves you off, and you scurry away, mind a flurry with thoughts of what you could’ve possibly done to piss off the cute barista. Was he just busy? Did you say something to the stranger that made him angry? You realize you never got the stranger’s name, but the rest of the anxious thoughts flow away with the calming walk to your office building.

+++++

The next day you learn the stranger’s name is Ivar, and you strike up an interesting friendship. Each morning you greet each other and while you wait for coffee he tells you all about the other patrons. You learn the large man on the bench from your first day is Bjorn, Ivar’s half brother. “But that’s a story for over drinks, not coffee.” You laugh together, but you have to go before he can ask you out for those drinks.

Ivar says the man at the window is the leader of a local church. Not a priest, and not a cult leader, but almost. Ivar is unashamed about his belief in their higher power, but makes it clear he doesn’t have a large commitment to Loki’s teaching specifically. The way he speaks of the older man, it seems like something had happened between the two, but Ivar is stubborn and refuses to speak anymore on the subject.

After six weeks of talking, Ivar tells you he’s an editor for a major Danish publisher. His sharp and ruthless mind makes sure no mistake is unaddressed and you get to sample some of the works he reads as he complains about plot holes or token characters.

Ivar seems to know everyone in the cafe, or can at least point someone out as new and predict if they will come back or not. Hvitserk will sometimes chime in with a comment about a patron. That they like this or that drink. That they don’t like raisins. That he thinks yellow isn’t their color. Or he bets they work for this lawyer or that restaurant.

Over the weeks you find out more little things about the two men, and you stop flirting with Ivar. You’ve noticed it gets him flustered and he seems to actually get uncomfortable, but he refuses to talk about it and changes the subject whenever you try. So you move on, and continue the friendly banter and non-sexual subjects. You’ve learned Hvitserk will stand up for the other employees. When someone is rude to Sigurd he will take over with a menacing glare and put in their order without a smile. If he hears harassing comments from people in line he will kick them out without thought, and Ivar supports him every time.

Your affection for Lothbrothers grows with every week you spend going to the coffeeshop, and your friendship with Ivar, and your crush on Hvitserk soar with it too.

+++++

Bright and early Saturday morning finds you browsing the local market for fresh finds. On the weekends you indulge your Farmer’s Market Aesthetic side and cook anything you can find. You’ve even started to befriend one of the local boulangers after he realized you love to hear about his process for choosing bread flavors for the day.

While talking to Pierre about his sourdough starter, you notice out of the corner of your eye a tall man approach the market stall. Pierre pauses in your conversation and you turn to get a better look at who is buying.

“Hvitserk?” His name slips out of your mouth in shock. You’d never run into anyone you know, who wasn’t a vendor, at this market before.

His head whips around, eyes impossibly wide as he stares at you, clearly thinking something similar.

“It’s Y/N. From the coffeeshop. Good Morning!”

“Yes, Y/N. Ivar’s new friend. Good morning.” He seems to pause, perhaps thinking about if it’s socially acceptable to turn tail and run. But then he simply asks “How are you?”

“I am well thank you. All the better for Pierre’s delicacies.” You smile toward the seller then ask, “How are you?”

“Well also, thanks. Do you come to this market often?”

“Only every Saturday for the past, oh, five weeks? Do you come here often, as well?”

“I have not been back in a long time.” He seems to think inwardly for a moment before coming back to the present. You wonder what makes him look like that. Who ruined this peaceful market for this gorgeous man?

“Well then you won’t have met Sara yet!” You grab his free hand and start pulling him toward one of the newer market stalls. On the way over you seem to realize what you’ve done, and try to pull your hand away out of propriety, but Hvitserk tightens his hold just a little and you can feel your face heat as you continue to hold hands.

There are a few people in line when you arrive, so you continue to make small talk, asking “So what made you decide to come to the market today?”

“I like to see what’s new or in season to add to the menu for the shop. Unfortunately the schedule doesn’t always allow me to scope things out as often as I like. Yourself?”

“I try to cook locally on the weekends, since I don’t have time during the week. There is amazing produce here, wait ‘till you try…” You’re interrupted by Sara proclaiming “My favorite customer!”

You laugh and hug your friend awkwardly over the counter. “Good morning, Sara. I want you to meet Hvitserk. He’s the barista at that amazing cafe by my apartment.”

“Co-Owner and barista, actually. It’s nice to meet you.” He reaches out his hand to greet Sara.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn't realize. How cool!” In all your talks, Ivar had never mentioned. You panic for a quick second before continuing. “Sara is the best beekeeper in all of the North. She also works part time with me in the office.”

“Welcome to ‘Sweet as Honey’! What can I get for you?” Sara chimes in with a big smile.

“He wants the small tasting jars. Lavender, Jalapeno, and Chai.” You turn to Hvisterk “Her flavors are ingenious and she comes up with new ones all the time. She brings in samples to work, so I'm both spoiled and biased.”

“I can’t wait.” He smiles softly. You go to pull out your wallet, but Hvitserk is already handing Sara some Krone. “You’ve bought enough coffee from me. I think I should return the favor.” He winks and inside you swoon a little. His flirty smile is a welcome change from the cool professionalism you get from him at Lothbrothers’.

“Thank you for stopping by! It was nice to meet you Hvitserk. I’ll see you on Monday, Y/N?”

“Bye, Sara! See you then.” As Hvisterk turns to walk away, Sara looks at you and points at him, then fans herself and pretends to faint. You give her a quelling look and shake your head no. She gives you an incredulous look in return, as if to say “Why not?” You shrug briefly thinking “I don’t know where this is going.”

You turn around to find Hvitserk has claimed a small bench by a tree a few feet away from Sweet as Honey. He pulls out the first of the jars, a small bag with six little cubes of bread inside, and a tiny wooden stirring stick. The heat of his body is scalding where you can feel it next to you, the bench only large enough to allow a sliver of air between you.

His large hands open the top on the Chai infused honey, and you watch his long fingers use the tiny stick to spread just enough honey on the first of the bread cubes. He offers you the cube. It would take nothing to grab it from him and pop it in your mouth, but you hesitate. He’s offered it at face level, so you take the chance. Your plump lips wrap around the soft bread, and your tongue sneaks out to lick any remaining honey off the tip of his thumb and forefinger.

In the time it takes you to chew and swallow he has acquired his own piece of honeyed bread. His is prepared lightning fast while barely taking his eyes off your face. The green of his iris is just a sliver, almost completely taken over by the black of his dilated pupils.

A quiet moan seems to force its way out of his chest as you make eye contact. “How does she get the delicate blend of cardamom and cinnamon?”

You clear your throat, but your voice is still a little husky. “I told you she was a genius. Try the Jalapeno.”

Together you try all the honeys, and Hvitserk comments on the balance of flavors, the texture, and how he would love to use some of them in either the pastries or the drinks at the shop. He also reveals that while they now have some bakers help in the morning, Hvitserk is still the one who recipe tests and makes all the menu decisions.

He puts his hand on your knee. “Stay here for a moment while I talk to Sara? I’ll be right back.” You watch him walk away and stare unabashedly at his ass perfectly hugged by his skinny jeans. He talks to the beekeeper, and you watch them exchange business cards

This day has turned out to be amazing, and you don’t want it to be over. Hvitserk has turned out to be an incredible conversation partner, and you can feel in your gut that the two of you click in a way you haven’t felt in a while.

When he returns, Hvitserk offers you both hands to help you from the bench. You take them, and as soon as you stand up you blurt out, “Come over for dinner tonight?” You wince at your tactlessness, but continue with “I bought so many good ingredients, and it would be an honor to share them with you.”

“I’m at Lothbrothers’ until 7. Can I come by after that?”

“7 is great. What’s your number? I can text you the address.”

You both exchange phones and add the new contact. When he gives yours back, you see he’s put Hvitserk Lothbrok in, but he’s also listed himself as “Hot Barista.” You roll your eyes at him when you look back up, and he throws you a flirty wink before saying goodbye and giving you a kiss on the cheek as well.

After watching him walk away you run back home and start prepping the menu, cleaning your apartment, and making sure you have some good wine to go with the meal.

Read Chapter 2 here.

Tag List: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie​ @appledressing​

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ TWO COFFEES ❜

✨ REQUEST: Oh can I have a Nestor imagine where Miguel ends setting the pair of you up??? 💜♥️💜♥️💜

✨ MADE BY ANON.

Gif credits: to the author.

WORDS: about 1.6k.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place or something that makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted ❤ — this work also includes sentences in Spanish, as reader can speak it.

❚❙ NESTOR OCETEVA MASTERLIST.

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“Two coffees, please”.

You were with your back to him when you heard his husky voice and a soft latin tone in it. You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow with some kind of confusion at his order. Who comes to a Starbucks just asking for two coffees? Turning at the man with your lips pressed in a funny smile, you took a second to look at him behind the counter.

He is familiar to you. You know him from somewhere.

His black braids were the first thing that caught your attention, before focusing on the red and black shirt under the jacket of his suit. His hands were hidden inside the pockets of his pants, but you noticed his nervousness in the way he had closed them in two fists.

“Normal or decaf? With or without milk? Normal milk? Lactose-free? Soya milk? Almond milk? With sugar, saccharine, or mocca? With or without cream? Do you want it hot or do you want it iced?”

“Normal, no milk, no sweetener, no cream, no ice. Just two coffees”.

You were about to laugh until you heard him talking again. A tone more firm letting you know that he wasn't in the mood for jokes. You could see him gulping a little ashamed when you changed the gesture in your face, but you didn't say anything else. The order was easy and ready in less than one minute. Closing the cups and offering him, you tried to show him another gentle smile but you couldn't. Offering you ten dollars, you waved a hand between the both of you.

“It's on me… Sir”. You told him, an instant before he threw the money inside the tips jar.

Watching him leaving the cafeteria made you feel strangely bad, not knowing exactly why. Sighing as the black car, parked in front of your workplace, disappeared from your field of vision in a jiffy. You hadn't seen that man before, but you wouldn't mind seeing him again. To apologize for being so stupid, of course.

—— NESTOR POV ——

“I fucked up”.

“Yeah, we all have seen the face of that poor girl. I bet you scared her”. Miguel laughed in the back seat of his car, taking a sip from the coffee.

“What the fuck you told him, man?” Vargas stopped the vehicle at a red light, turning at his boss.

“I asked for two coffees, and she started to… give me a lot of options, like milk and sugar and I just got nervous”.

“You? Nervous?” Miguel leaned forward, placing his forearms in both seats, sticking his head out of the gap between both. “The fearless Nestor Oceteva feeling nervous?”

“Fuck off, Mickey! I've been trying to talk with her for a week”.

“Yeah, and you scared her. Did you forget you only had to scare people while you're working?” The other man raised his eyebrows, making his boss laugh behind them.

When the night came and the cafeteria had emptied of customers, you turned off most of the lights inside and locked the main door, to count the cash and write it down in the account book. Playing some soft music on your phone, you took off the green cap and the apron of the same color. It was a long day and all you can think about was in that mystery man with two braids, and who made you feel frustrated for some reason. It wasn't like you wanted to make him smile or to know his name, or maybe get his phone number. Of course not.

Knocks on the crystal door claimed your attention, turning your head towards it and interrupting your task. Gulping nervously finding two suited men with his hands tangled in a big fist, respectively, under their abdomens, you stepped out from behind the counter to lead your feet to their position.

“Are you alone?” One of them asked without any doubt in his words.

Simply nodding, the other man walked to the car parked behind them. Then, you watched Miguel Galindo coming out from it. And now, you were fucked. Of course, you knew the man who came that morning. Licking your lips, freaking out, you unlocked the door to let him walk in.

“Buenas noches”.

“Buenas noches, se—señor Galindo”.

“Are you occupied? May I come in?”

With your heart racing, you gave him enough space to pass you away to the inside.

“I'm sorry if… he tho—thought I was making… fun of him. I didn't me—mean to be disrespectful”.

Your hands were sweating, rubbing one against the other behind your back. Barely breathing. Praying anything you knew.

“Tranquila, it's okay. Do you think I came to… make you something?” His calm attitude gave you shivers. The kind of ones that put your body to tremble. The laugh that echoed all around the empty cafeteria provoked your nausea. “The truth is… you like him. He has been some days trying to encourage himself to ask you out, but my brother is a little dumb”.

Tilting your head with confusion, just like a dog would do, you narrowed your eyes not sure if he was being serious or he was teasing you to have some fun.

“I do—”.

Miguel raised a forefinger to stop you, as soon as his phone rang inside his jacket. Grabbing it from the pocket and reading the name on the screen, he answered the call with the speaker on.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Mickey? Emily just told me you went for two coffees. The fuck you have? Five fucking years old? Leave the waitress in pace!”

Feeling like shit, you bowed down your head because of his words, recognizing the voice at the instant. The man in front of you watched the gesture frowning his brow.

“Nestor, the speaker is on”.

Pi, pi, pi. He had hung up.

“List—”.

“Can you, please, leave? I think you have had enough fun. And you should be ashamed of using your position to do this kind of bullshit to someone humble, who only wants to live her life without being a target to your free time”. Trying to be polite, you pointed at the door with a hand.

“No, no, lis—”.

“If you don't leave right now, sir, I'm calling the cops”. You ruled, taking a step forward with your eyes glued to him, about to cry because of rage. The rage that helped you to lose any fears about confronting the dangerous Miguel Galindo.

In silence, he nodded only one time, turning around to leave the cafeteria. After locking the door, you let the tears fill up your eyes and run down your cheeks. Needing a little break before finishing your work and going home.

A few days have passed since then, not being able to stop thinking about it and why you. Why they decided to play that prank. It wasn't funny. At least, it wasn't funny for you. But you were sure that, later, they commented it and laughed about your gestures. Turning the filter holder of the professional coffee maker, to fit it into the gear, you can't help but look through the reflection on it over your shoulder. Your heart jumps when you find Nestor bent over the counter with both forearms, waiting to be attended to.

“What would you like, sir?” The question comes out from your mouth with a cold tone of voice, not even looking at his eyes, ready to take his order in the TPV.

“Two coffees”. He replies trying to not show any kind of emotion, taking off the sunglasses covering his dark eyes. “One like… just coffee. And another of your choice”.

Filling up the cups with the drink and securing them with the covers, you put them over the counter to grab back the money and give him the change. Holding one with his right hand, the man offers you the other with his left.

“Do you have a moment?”

“No”.

“Por favor”.

“I said no”.

“I'm going to stay here, till you say yes”. The smile curving his mouth, showing you two perfect rows of teeth, convinces you somehow.

Rolling your eyes and tapping your co-worker's shoulder, you make him a gesture to cover you to take a short break. Nestor follows you then to the back alley, not saying a word but trying to prepare a monologue to apologize. Stopping your track and facing him, having a sip from your coffee, you wave your hand waiting for something.

“I told him to not do it”.

“So… was it a bet, or what? Were you bored and thought that could be fun making me feel stupid and ashamed?”

“None of that”. His jaw tensing calls your attention, bowing his eyes to the drink between his hands. “I really wanted to ask you out, but I wasn't sure if you were going to accept. I was nervous and… Miguel thought that he could help me”.

“He didn't”.

“I know”.

“And you, shouting through the phone, either”.

“Yeah, lo siento por eso”. Looking at your eyes again, with regret, he keeps his free hand in a pocket. “If you don't want to hang out with me, it's okay. I came to apologize for what happened”.

“Thank you”. You just whisper.

He tilts his head, pressing his lips and forcing a smile. Nestor waits one second, hoping that you add something else like you would like to have a date, but you don't talk again. Giving up, he nods turning around disappointed, walking out of the alley.

But actually, you're just making him suffer a little. It's called payback.

“I'm free tomorrow night”.

With a brow raised, the man turns around, facing you some steps away.

“We can meet at Jin's chinese restaurant. At seven”.

His smile appears again, infecting you with the same gesture.

“I'll be there at six”.

“Why?” You chuckle, not understanding him.

“To not make you wait”.

“Todo un caballero…”

[jiikyu]

Taste of Marigolds In Bloom

Herb of the Sun — Or Marigold was often used during the Middle Ages as a love charm. Carrying one of these brightly colored flowers was thought to bring love. Though be warned for they are also poisonous. Chapter V. It’s becoming painfully clear you find comfort in the wrong things. Like the smell of the ocean. A smile that’s far too blinding. In the way calloused hands always seem to find their way back to you. Despite everything — Can you really be blamed for falling? ∘◦ ✿ ◦∘ All characters are 18+ Yandere!Mirio x Fem!Reader(AΩβ) Y/N = Your Name F/N = Your Full Name E/C = Eye Color H/C = Hair Color Warnings: Yandere / Unhealthy Behavior / Delusions / Angst / Possessiveness / Manipulation / Breaking & Entering, tho we don’t really elaborate on it this chapter? First Chapter Here❦ Previous Chapter Here❦ Next Chapter In Progress... Taglist. @missyredbean @yandere-romanticism

∘◦ ✿ ◦∘ You’re fading or — At least that’s what you’re starting to suspect. Time seemingly has escaped you. Who knows how much time has passed with you holding of the bathrooms door handle. The metal resting loosely against your skin is now warm from the shared contact and it’s beyond disappointing because — It’s the farthest you’ve been able to will yourself. Motionless you find yourself stuck at standstill. You hate it. You hate the invisible thing stopping you from opening the door, like you would have if it were any other day. It’s not the dry clothes that stick uncomfortably to your skin or the wet droplets coldly clinging to you. Something familiar yet foreign. Settled in the pit of your being, it claws and begs you not to abandon the shelter these thin walls provide. You know what’s taken hold of you and god, does that make it so much worse. You just want it gone. But, how do you kill fear? There is no reason for your hands to be clammy or for the hairs on the back of your neck to stand raised. All you’re doing is making the situation worse, for yourself and — For Mirio. He’s probably worried. Plus, it’s not like you can stay locked away forever. Right? Only when you’re able finally gulp down the passing mania and turn the handle do you realize that you’re alone. Light pours from behind you, spilling into the empty hall. Your E/C eyes take a moment to adjust but it’s clear that Mirio is nowhere in sight. How long had it been? The stillness is broken by the familiar ding of your microwave from the kitchen. “Just in time Y/N!” And just like that the shame eating away at you disappears as quickly as it appeared, lulled into submission by the voice calling out to you. It should probably frighten you. How fast your troubles seem to melt away with the sound of his voice. Leaving the bathroom you forget the jacket still hanging from the tubs edge. Your footsteps are muffled by the carpet underneath, it’s then that you notice the sweet scent dusting the air. You follow the faintest hints of sugar and — milk? Rounding the corner you spot the familiar silhouette standing under fluorescent white light. And it’s hard to miss just how comfortable he appears to be in your kitchen. The jug of milk has been removed from the fridge, garnished with paper towels littering the back counter and a lone spoon sitting forgotten... Oh and one of the cupboard doors has been left hanging wide open. You’re really not sure what he’s done to cause such chaos. The last thing you notice are the two steaming cups, filled to the brim. It’s so faint but, you swear it smells like honey — “Sweetheart I don’t know how you do it!” And suddenly all the thoughts buzzing around your head just stop. A total short-circuit. He just called you Sweetheart. And the bastard doesn’t even bat an eyelash, he just lets it slip past his teeth without any repercussions. Though, if you’re being honest — You’re not even sure Mirio realizes he’s said it. It’s fine, really, it’s not that big of a deal. There are plenty of people around the world that use nicknames. Something as simple as a title of endearment shouldn’t have your heart doing backflips and cartwheels. But it does. You’re absolutely screwed. “There’s barely enough room in here for one person!” His words have you more than a little confused. To demonstrate what exactly he means he lifts his arms in the air. From one hand to the other he practically touches the walls that represent the beginning and end of the kitchen. “See, it’s no good!” Huh. You suppose Mirio’s right in some sense of the word. But it’s him that makes the space feel small. “Well...” You can’t help but chuckle between words at the man T posing in your kitchen. “I guess for you it might be a bit much.” “Nah I think I’m onto something. You’ll just have to move in with me!” It’s hard to tell sometimes when Mirios joking because he always wears a wide grin. But there’s no way it’s a serious offer. Maybe your missing the point, but you don’t see the problem at hand. Sure your dorm might not be as uh — spacious — as the ones meant for rising star heros. But you’re nothing if not appreciative, the space had came with all the basic necessities and for that you couldn’t be more grateful. You’re lucky enough to even have the opportunity of sleeping under the roof of your dream school. “Now you’re pushing it.” Your tone is lighthearted. “My place isn’t that bad.” Though your smile brings warmth to his little heart the moment is soured. He cannot help but stare at the puffiness just under your eyes, from where tears had fallen and stained. A reminder that has the blond to biting into the meat of his cheek. Mirio would be lying if he said felt comfortable with your living situation. It’s far too small — Let alone for the both of you. But most importantly, he couldn’t help but notice the lack of heavy bolts on the front door. He doesn’t like it one bit. Maybe it’s just the itch of anxiety from what happened but he’d much rather see you someplace safer. Somewhere you weren’t forced to be alone, preferably someplace he could stay by your side. Like his dorm. “What’d you make?” Freed from his thoughts it takes Mirio a second to process the question, his eyes follow your stare — The two cups cooling on the counter, the steam vanishing as it rises. He’d almost forgotten! “Oh! It’s honey milk.” Suddenly one of the cups is pushed across the smooth counter surface, till it sits within your reach. “My dad used to make it for me when I was a kid, usually when I was upset or had a bad day.” His smiles softens when he ends with. “I thought you might like it.” What he can’t tell you is that he made it in desperation. A distraction from what he’d done. “Thank you.” Blue eyes watch your fingers wrap around the heated smooth surface of the ceramic. “Really, it means a lot.” He can’t help but stare as your lips part to take the first sip. “Anything for you.” Those words are your wake up call. You’d got caught up in his antics... Are you really that weak around him? Because, now you understand there’s a deeper promise there. One you almost wish had remained in the dark. Almost. “If you want we can watch a movie, or —“ “I think.” You stare into the swirl of milk and honey before continuing. “Maybe we should sit and... Talk about what happened.” Your words always seem to have an effect on him because his pulse begins to race. It’s fear. “Yeah.” ∘◦ ✿ ◦∘ You’re in trouble. Even with the suppressants dulling your senses they’re not strong enough to block the scent of seashore and sandalwood now permeating the walls. Not strong enough to hide the fact that your dorm is already starting to smell like Mirio. If people knew you allowed an Alpha into your home, let alone an unmated one, you’re reputation would tarnished. You know this, it’s been drilled into your head since presenting as an Omega, but... It’s Mirio Togata that’s seated next to you in your kitchen. The one exception — Or at least that’s what you hope. The cheap material of the barstool digs into your back and there’s a constant drumming of fingers against the laminate countertop, a harmony of tension. The thing that held you captive in the bathroom is back and whispering in your ear. It doesn’t use words, no, instead you’re haunted by awful unintelligible garble. Of blood filled lungs struggling for air. This is a bad idea. You can already feel your mouth becoming dry, but there’s no going back — “What happened during the fight?” It’s the one question that could’ve caught Mirio off guard, and his smile falters, if only for a split second. “Oh you mean —“ A hand rubs the skin of his neck sheepishly, as if you caught him redhanded in the cookie jar. “I guess I did go a little overboard on that guy, didn’t I?” He says half jokingly, he wants so badly to be able to sweep the whole thing under the rug. A little overboard? “But don’t worry! From here on out I’ll make sure no one ever hurts you.” Even without his quirk, he’ll manage. “I promise.” Even if it means he has to get his hands dirty. He reaches an arm to wrap around your shoulder, so you know your hero will always be there for you and — You flinch at the touch. ... Mirio blinks a few times because he’s not sure what happened. You hadn’t meant to flinch. You really hadn’t meant it. But it’s too late. It’s clear as day, he sees it in your eyes. And you know it when his smile begins to fall, it’s plummeting. There’s fear in your eyes. Somewhere in your subconscious you must’ve been praying. Stupid, so incredibly stupid. Praying that you were strong enough to hide it from him. And it makes what comes next all the worse. “Wait you’re —“ Blond brows knit together, still grasping the change in atmosphere. “You’re not afraid of me... Are you?” There it is. The air is suddenly tens times heavier, like breathing through a straw. Your throats so dry you’re not even sure you have the ability to speak. When Mirios only answer is deafening silence does he become hyper aware of the situation. You literally see the moment it clicks. It’s in the way his mouth opens and closes in disbelief, in the way his blue eyes widen in realization. It’s like watching an incoming car crash in slow motion , you know it’s going to be horrible but there’s nothing to stop it. You have to tear your eyes away before the inevitable collision and when you do... Mirios panic truly sets in. He had been afraid of you to thinking less of him. But never in a million years did he think that you might see him as a potential threat. This is a nightmare. He’s sweating bullets. “Sunshine I know — I know I messed up.” Another nickname. “I never meant to scare you. I’m sorry — I don’t know what took over, you know I never would have let it go that far but the guy, he —“ Each word more unsteady than the last, more desperate, because you won’t even look at him. And it’s killing him. He can’t take it anymore. Mirios scarred hands find your shoulders, slowly — Like you might crumble away from the touch but this time you don’t recoil from the fingers pressing into the material of your shirt. “Will you please look at me Darling?” Having averted your eyes you don’t bare witness to the pain carving his face but god, do you hear it. It’s absolutely heart wrenching. And despite it all, despite having watched him beat a man within an inch of his life, the last thing you want is to hurt Mirio. So you give in. And you look up to see a man on the edge. It’s worse than you imagined. You see the wild storm of blue, one that could easily ravage everything within its reach. “This is all some sort of misunderstanding right? I was just protecting you that’s all, you know I would never hurt you.” One of his hands has left your shoulder to snake its way to cup your face, thumb stroking languidly over the cherub of your cheek. Desperate for contact, for anything he can get from you. “Please just — Say that you’ll forgive me.” Everything. 

From the way Mirios voices wobbles weakly to the way he looks at you with desperation. It’s enough to crush every last bit of reason within you.

You break. This is the man that little voice inside your head screamed and begged you to stay away from? The man who lost everything to save a little girl from some madman? The man who rescued you and is now pleading for forgiveness in your kitchen? That man? Life is cruel. You’re finally able to find your voice. “Mirio. What you did was horrible —“ His heart just about stops beating right there. It hurts. Having his name associated with something so terrible in your eyes, even if to him it was something he’d done out of devotion... It’s a stab to the gut. “And despite everything.” Is this how it ends? You’re going to break up with him. “I — I can’t find it in myself to be upset with you.” Those words leave your lips and Mirio can finally breath. The blond hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath till now, the lack of oxygen straining his lungs. But you’re not done yet — “I’ve never met a person quite like you. You are the sweetest, definitely a little dense.” By the end your lips have started to curl upwards, it just comes naturally. “What I’m trying to say is that — I still care about you, and this isn’t the end —“ It’s like the worlds gone silent, your words are going in one ear and out the other. All he knows is that. You’re here. You’re smiling. And you’re not leaving him. It’s all Mirio needs to understand. The swell of emotions is just too much for him. It just sort of bursts out. “Though, you’re —“ “I love you.” ... The last — What? Six hours of your life have been nothing but a rollercoaster, one you’d like to get off of now. You don’t need a mirror to know you’re wearing the most wide-eyed expression of your entire life. But you couldn’t care less, because you’re far too busy replaying those magic words over and over in your head. You’re not sure you heard right. Maybe your skull was smashed against the pavement at some point during the fight and this is all some weird fever dream. That’s right. You’re probably in some hospital with IVs hooked to you. “Mirio —“ Pinching your inner arm before continuing, it’s almost concerning when the tinge of pain feels real. Very real... And you’ll be damned if you can’t find the reason for the sudden lack of common sense in the room. “Did you hit your head?” “I — What no? Y/N I’m being completely serious here.” “Are you sure? M-maybe you should you lie down, just incase?” You’re starting to panic because — Dear god, what if he needs medical attention and he’s here because of your own problems? As if reading your mind he understands. His heart skips and stutters because it’s him you’re worried about. He hasn’t lost you yet. And as much as he would love to tease you about how cute you are — He’s having none of it, because he just admitted his true feelings and your too worried about a stupid concussion! Suddenly he’s no longer seated next to you but standing and... He’s taking a few steps back? Once far enough away he outstretches his arms forward so that his thumbs mirror each other. “Could someone with a concussion do this?” In one swift motion his hands are planted to the floor with both legs kicked to a point in the air. A handstand. “One, two, three —“ Of course, nothing can be easy when it comes to Mirio. Show off. “— Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen and twenty!” Twenty seconds. Your jaw would’ve hit the floor if it were physically possible. It’s impressive. More than that. “I can go longer if you want.” When he hops back to stand on his own two feet the floor trembles. “But, I’m not sure you want to watch me do a handstand all night.” He’s smiling and laughing. It makes you feel small and irrational, that you’ve been overthinking everything. That you’ve made something out of nothing. The panic starts to settle, like a layer of soot waiting for its next opportunity to suffocate. But you gotta ask one last time. For your own sanity. “So... You’re really okay?” If he’s fine then that would mean — “Never been better! Because — Here, let me say it again.“ He says stepping closer, like there’s a magnet between the two of you, he closes the gap. Before you know it large hands find yours, with the outmost care. You can only describe it as being bathed in sunlight, warm and glowing, your digits are dwarfed in Mirios own. It’s slower this time, softer. “I love you.” Has your heart ever flown this high before? “It doesn’t matter whether you believe me or not but, you’re the only person that’s made me feel this way — The only one for me.” You know there’s no way for you to come down unscathed. “I was being serious earlier you know? That... We could move in together.” His thumb maps the tiny hills of your knuckles. “So, won’t you please consider moving in with me?” Really now, it’s got to be one of the most ridiculous things you’ve be asked in a while. Hadn’t you only just admitted your feelings a few hours ago? Doesn’t he care what others will think? Why are you even entertaining the idea? Even as the list continues to grow, reasons on it’s unrealistic, why — Sitting perched atop the stool your feet dangle, support-less. You’re helpless because those blue irises are looking down upon you like your the only one in the world. It’s too much. “I —“ Why won’t the butterflies stop swarming you? “I need to sleep on this Mirio — This. It’s just a lot.” You’re certain now, now more than ever before. You’re in far deeper than you ever could have bargained for. Because you still haven’t said no yet. “Of course!” Voice soft and lighthearted, Mirios hands give yours a squeeze. Whether in reassurance or in fear of letting go he doesn’t know anymore. “Take all the time you need.” ∘◦ ✿ ◦∘ The night ends with you helping bandage-up Mirios knuckles. Rubbing alcohol, cotton balls and Hello Kitty bandaids. The ugly futon you found at a garage sale and a few spare blankets are included in the five star Hotel experience. The springs groan back to life when Mirio unfolds the furniture. You don’t know how long you stand in the doorframe of your bedroom, there’s just so much — Why’d he have to pile everything on you at once! You just need time, that’s all. Time to think. Once you get your head out of the clouds you’ll be able to let him down gently, because it’s a childish idea after all. One you’d never agree too. Right? And maybe if you hadn’t succumbed to a night of stress you wouldn’t have failed to notice the bottle of pills missing from your nightstand. ∘◦ ✿ ◦∘ At some point sleep overtook you in your exhaustion, because your phone now reads 10:12AM. After laying in bed for an extra twenty minutes you finally sit up and only when your feet touch floor are you startled fully awake. Something touched your left foot, and it rattled at you. Your eyes adjust enough for you to see the culprit, it’s your bottle of suppressants. They must have rolled off your nightstand while you were out. It’s quiet. If you didn’t know any better you would say it felt like any other regular morning, besides the lingering fatigue. That’s why when you open your bedroom door it takes you by surprise, the lumpy, vaguely looking human shape on the futon. Mirios sleeping form barely fits the ancient pullout. One of his arms hangs off the side with his fingers resting against the floor. Only with the glow of the television are you able to make out his sleeping face. Whatever miraculous hair gel he buys no longer keeps the mess of blond together, bangs of gold hang over his soft features. A normal persons heart probably wouldn’t flutter at something so simple. From under the blanket peeks the same t-shirt he’s been wearing for at least a day now. The same one you cried into. In a few days the scent of calming sea waves and citrus will fade. And you’ll be all that’s left behind. It’s a realization that leaves you feeling, empty. You find the more time spent mulling over the situation the blurrier everything becomes. It doesn’t matter how hard you try to convince yourself, no matter how many hours you spend staring at your ceiling in the dark of your bedroom — It won’t change the way your heart beats wildly whenever you’re around him. You can’t help but wonder. Is it really such a bad idea? 

And you know you’re a terrible person because the curve of your lips is real as you gently place your hand on his shoulder. There are roots that have already taken hold of you long ago.