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sisterspooky1013 · 2 years

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How to Feel

Rated T | 1942 words | Read it here on AO3

CW for mention of suicidal ideation

Mulder sighs and rolls to his side, resting his cheek against the worn fabric of the couch cushion. It smells like sweat and mildew, and a little like his own unwashed ass. It smells like failure, which is fitting.

His eyes slowly drag around the remains of their home—the skeleton of a life they worked so hard to build. There are unnatural looking blank spaces all over the place, glaring at him like missing front teeth. Her favorite oversized armchair, that stupid little magazine rack she fell in love with at the flea market, a bucket whose sole purpose was to house umbrellas. Useless things. Unnecessary things. Things he never expected to miss.

Does he miss them? He notices their absence. They remind him that she is no longer here. That she won’t walk through the door at half-past six and drop her bag on the side table—which is also now gone—with a weary sigh. She won’t give him a disappointed glance as she goes to the kitchen to make herself dinner and then eats it in silence—alone—at the table. He hadn’t realized the way that her comings and goings marked the passing of time in his days until she was gone, and it all started to run together like the red T-shirt he put in with the whites.

He also notices that the laundry has begun to pile up.

“Do you even miss me?” she’d asked on the phone last week, her voice warbled with tears and hurt. Or it may have been yesterday, it’s hard to say. She’s not here to mark the passing of time for him anymore.

“Of course,” he’d said flatly, and the lurch of her wracking sob made him cringe.

He wishes he knew the right things to say, but it seems clear that in order to say the right things, he needs to feel the right things. He needs to feel guilty for the ways that he failed her. He needs to miss her so acutely that he finds the motivation to do the laundry and wash his ass. Once, he chartered a plane to Antarctica off nothing but a set of coordinates and the overwhelming desire to find out how her kiss tastes. More recently, she asked him to take the garbage out and he groaned as though she’d shot him (again). She took the garbage out herself.

He heaves himself up into a sitting position and feels the blood drain from his head. He stays like that for an indiscernible amount of time, staring at a perfectly circular clean spot on an otherwise dusty bookshelf. He tries to remember what was there before, what left the blank space. A vase, perhaps. Scully liked vases, especially when he filled them with flowers. It’s been a while since he did that. Years, probably.

It bothers him that he can’t remember. Every evening they’d sit here, watching TV or reading. Sometimes she’d slip her feet into his lap and nudge his balls with her heel, her own little subtle Scully come-on. More than a handful of times they made love right on the couch, too caught up to move to the bedroom. Hundreds of times he’s looked at that shelf, but he cannot for the life of him remember what used to live there.

“I’m not happy, Mulder.”

He’d turned his head slowly to look at her, his reaction lethargic. Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, and he’d found himself surprised by her state. He wanted to ask her what happened, but then he realized that what happened was him.

“I’m sorry,” he’d uttered uselessly, feeling like an emotionally stunted tin man.

And he was. He is. He’s very, very sorry. But being sorry isn’t a feeling, it turns out. All you have to do in order to be sorry is to wish that things were different, which he does. He wishes he were different. He’s wished that for most of his life, save for one heavenly slice of time where someone who he loved beyond words or measure loved him back exactly as he is. Or was, anyway.

With a grunt, he launches himself up off the couch and plods over to the bookshelf. The blank circle is about five inches in diameter, flanked by his Star Trek DVDs and a framed picture of Samantha. It bothers him, makes him feel crazy, because there is an accompanying blank spot in his head where the information should be.

He feels annoyed. That’s something.

There was a space of time where he felt everything, to the point of overwhelm. He was despondent, agonized, miserable in a way that made him realize that every prior experience of “sad” was anodyne by comparison. He seriously considered whether continuing to be alive was the right choice for him. At that point, Scully was the only reason he had to keep going. It was the overpowering desire to avoid hurting her in a way she could never recover from that kept him waking up each day, kept him trying to make things better. And then one day, he didn’t feel so sad anymore. This would have been a good thing, except in addition to not feeling sad, he didn’t feel happy. He didn’t feel anything. He still doesn’t, not that he hasn’t tried.

It’s a bit like trying your hand at telekinesis, which he’s done an embarrassingly large number of times. You stare at the item, willing it with every fiber of your being to move. You realize that you’re not sure what you’re supposed to be engaging: what sense, or system, or muscle does one activate in order to move objects with their mind? You stare harder and harder, begging it to move, but it won’t. It can’t. You can’t make it, no matter how badly you want it to.

When she left, it was like a dream. He watched from the sidelines as she loaded the last of her things into her car and turned back to look at him one final time. He wanted to scream, to slap himself so he’d snap out of this trance and stop the only good thing that ever happened to him from walking out of his life. But his shoes were full of concrete and his hands made of lead, and he couldn’t bring himself to move.

“Drive carefully,” he’d offered, and then watched as the final spark of hope extinguished from her eyes.

He grabs the cordless phone off the cradle and returns to the couch, settling back into the well-worn indent his body has molded into the cushions. He dials her number and closes his eyes, pretending that she’s just out running errands and the house isn’t full of blank spots.

“Mulder?” she asks urgently upon answering, her voice full of concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he assures her casually. “I just wanted—are you busy?”

She heaves a sigh, the one that means she’s both relieved and irritated. It’s a special one born of necessity after they began working together.

“No,” she says, defeated. “What do you need?”

“What used to be on the bookshelf? Next to the picture of Samantha. I can’t remember and it’s driving me crazy.”

There’s a long silence filled with the crackle of her thoughts. It used to be his white noise, the sound he fell asleep to. He wonders if she’ll stay on the phone and let him listen to it if he asks nicely. He hasn’t slept well in a while.

“Are you eating, Mulder? Are you—” She clears her throat and takes a breath. “Are you taking care of yourself?”

He hasn’t eaten today. He can’t remember the last time he showered. Those things just don’t seem very important right now. Nothing does.

“Uh huh,” he says noncommittally.

Another crackling stretch. He yawns and burrows deeper into the cushions.

“I worry about you,” she whispers, like it’s a confession.

It hits his ear and slips down to the floor, disappearing between the drafty floorboards he never got around to fixing. He just can’t absorb it, can’t take it in. Her worry, her fear, her love. He’s impervious to it, which would be frustrating if that were an emotion he could access.

“I know,” he answers. “Do you remember what was on the bookshelf?”

He pictures her looking at her new bookshelf in her new place. He hasn’t been invited over and he has no idea what it’s like, so he just ends up picturing her in her apartment back in Georgetown. It makes him feel a little bit warm thinking of her there, curled up on her striped couch with a glass of wine.

“A coffee mug,” she says after a time. “Full of pebbles.”

“Oh,” he says, his eyebrows furrowing. “I forgot about that.”

“Yeah,” she says tightly. “I know.”

“Thanks,” he tells her. “It was gonna bug me all day.”

More crackles. He waits.

“It’s 11:00 pm, Mulder.”

She’s not here to mark the passing of time.

“I know. Sorry to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

He waits until she hangs up before he kills his end of the line. He does remember a little town with a winding river running through the middle of it. Maybe it was in Colorado, or Idaho. They sat on the bank of the river for hours, sipping from a drugstore bottle of whiskey and sorting the smooth, water-worn stones into little piles by color.

“I miss having a home,” she’d admitted as the sun began to slip behind the trees, slashing yellow stripes of light across the gently flowing water and her summer-freckled skin. She turned to look at him, seeking connection and comfort. Her vulnerability always felt like a secret that she trusted him to keep. He’d already met his daily quota for platitudes and empty expressions of optimism, so he just reached out and grabbed her hand. That seemed to be enough.

The next day, he was killing time in a gift shop that also served as the town’s laundromat, waiting for his jeans to dry, when he found a kitschy little mug that made him smile. He bought it for her and wrapped it in old newspapers, hiding it in the bottom of his bag until their final day in that particular town. She was always melancholy when it was time to go.

“Home is wherever I’m with you,” she read off the face of the mug, and by the time she lifted her head to look at him, tears were spilling out of her eyes.

She filled it with her favorite rocks from beside the river, the ones that reminded her of Missy and her mother. Some that she said reminded her of him. She hauled it around with her to countless other cities until she had a real home to display it in. It occupied the bookshelf until the day she realized that the home they’d found in each other had depreciated into a haunted house full of his ghosts.

Mulder thinks about the mug, about the blank spot on the shelf, and his chest becomes painfully tight. He thinks about how much she trusted him, right from the start, and how deeply he’s betrayed that trust. He thinks about the miracle of her love. The unlikely chance that he found her in the first place. And he feels so fucking awful, so guilty, so terrified that he’s ruined everything. His eyes burn and his throat closes up, and he sucks in a ragged breath. He feels so afraid that he’ll never get her back.

He feels.

It’s a start.

Tagging @today-in-fic

#the x files #x files fanfic #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #xf fanfic #x files #the x-files #xfiles

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mcflymemes · 2 years

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QUOTES FROM SURVIVOR ON CBS

hey... hold up, bro.

i just always wanted to say that.

that’s the way it sounded to me.

he’s got his head so far up your ass his eyeballs are sticking out of your mouth.

that means you don’t respect me.

it’s fricking nauseating, frustrating... AND I’M PISSED!

i kept having to remind myself “don’t get booty blinded.”

you know, they keep me warm.

i already know this is not for me.

i can’t even keep myself warm! get off of me!

what are you trying to pull? i’m already going home.

it’s a fucking stick!

it has a face on it!

i’ll lie, i don’t care, but i’ll make up a good lie.

i’m just gonna spread truth, lies, and rumors.

that’s probably the most boobs i’ve probably seen in my whole life.

when it comes down to it, i want that million dollars.

i’ll wear a tiara. a man tiara. do they make those?

i don’t forgive, and i don’t forget.

are you really going to eat it? because that would be hot if you ate it.

when it comes down to it, we don’t mix. we’re like chicken parm and tuna fish - it just don’t taste good.

i didn’t know they could frickin’ fly.

as long as it’s not me, i’m happy.

i’m not calling you stupid.

those are the worst looking water shoes i’ve ever seen.

would you agree with that?

you know, whiners are wieners.

you need to go home.

he’s gonna dump me.

that was the most childish act you’ve done so far.

i came back broke, full, half-drunk and pissed off, so i’m gonna burn this house down in the next day or so.

making love is my sport.

you need to get in the ocean and wash your ass.

i’ve never heard anything that surprised me more than what you just said.

somebody call a whambulance!

you may remember me for making men speak llama.

you have like, your normal stomach and your dessert stomach, so your dessert stomach is still hungry.

it’s that kind of cocky attitude that makes people really hate your guts.

i’m against you.

we’re devouring them one at a time.

they won’t. they never do.

we just annihilate them.

i don’t pray for anything.

i brought my bag of tricks tonight.

my second chance is all about family.

you’re garbage at rapping. you can’t rap. you have no bars.

i know i gotta stay here, ‘cause i’m on probation!

like, how do you infiltrate that?

i’m like a phoenix rising from the ashes... ready to burn down your house.

i’m totally using the mom card, are you kidding me?

are we being punk’d?

does anyone want to come marvel at this splendor?

i can get loud too! what the fuck!

i’m gonna burn his hat.

i don’t think you were the mastermind behind it. i don’t think you’re smart enough to do it.

i don’t know... i wasn’t paying attention. i don’t really care.

my grandma’s at home watching jerry springer right now.

you have made my life hell from day one.

he’s a snake and he lies, but he also tells the truth too.

i will always wave my finger in your face.

i hope you guys all get bit by a freaking crocodile.

no, go ahead, you have to say something bad about me.

we’re younger and cuter.

the tribe has spoken.

you give away so much. you don’t even know enough to keep your mouth shut.

you take care of her, i’ll take care of you.

one man should not have this power. luckily, i’m not an ordinary man.

pony ride’s over. you’re welcome for carrying you this far.

au revoir, arrivederci, or, as we like to say in boston... see ya later.

it’s getting the best of me.

fear keeps people loyal. that’s straight out of the godfather.

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new-berry · 7 months

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Thiago Silva and Conor Gallagher? the two people who won’t lose their heads after a shit match but then find themselves the last ones in the dressing room with a lot of pent up feelings (frustration, rage, lust, etc etc) between them

NSFW sort of consensual non con after the carabo cup game

Cole is the hardest. Becuase he’s trying the hardest hard to be brave about it. He’s not used to being in the losing side

Conor tells him flat out it’s better to cry and get it out of your system. Better to feel the loss and move on.

He’s taken players to bed before. Nights like this. Tonight he just dumps them on Misha because he doesn’t drink and will get them all home safe.

Now he motions to Thiago and slides out of the dressing room avoiding the still circling press filing late reports.

There’s an ache that won’t be filled with crying or replaying the game in his mind or calling an old teammate. It won’t even be filled by Thiago except he is deeply and regretfully gets it.

Gets how losing gets in your bones and along your nerve endings. And how sometimes to need to feel

something else instead.

Thiago’s texting Bella as Conor pulls out of the car park and Conor suddenly fiercely loves her as well. He’s been with them both before. A different kind of taking care. But this time it’s just him and Thiago. His hands flex and he can feel the rub of anticipation in his thighs and his mouth.

They don’t make it into the house. Thiago undies his seatbelt and tells Conor to give him a minute. It’s stupid to fall for it. In a better state of mind he wouldn’t. His car door is wrenched open and he hasn’t got his seatbelt off.

Thiago stuffs something into his mouth. His dark eyes look foreign as the light from the garbage door slowly turns off. Conor has left the headlights on but they will turnoff themselves in time. For now the taste of leather gloves in his mouth and the seat shoved back. His hands tangled in a belt or a rope, it’s a little spongy maybe the cords he has left to the side after taking skis off the roof of his car.

Thiago swallows him down, his legs awkwardly splayed pants thrown aside, still half wearing one sock. He struggles because Thiago likes that, he likes it to. Tunes into the cruel things Thiago is saying to him how he’s only good for cock, how they keep him around as a willing slut.

His hands are rough showing Conor’s thighs apart and his teeth make his body twist as Thiago moves his mouth slowly up Conor’s cock. Scraping down harder as he gets to the tip.

Conor’s brain is frothing registering the sensation of teeth as panic and pleasure. He sobs out “please stop I don’t want it.”

Thiago just laughs at him. Shoves two fingers in him up to the first knuckle and says, almost like a conversation, “I’m going to fuck your pretty ass over the front of your car and make you lick it up.”

The headlights cut to half beam as Conor begs and Thiago laughs. He can’t remember what got them here. Let’s his mind empty out.

#fic #also fun #also might to more of this

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hijinxensues · 1 year

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The Cloaking Brooch Dilemma - Part 12

RotTMNT Donatello x OC!AFAB

Synopsis: Donatello considered himself, nay, deemed himself the greatest mind of his generation. He was known for his skills as a scientist, inventor, engineer and was a technological genius. Dare he throw in that he was a damn good brother and held the title of being ¼th ‘Protector of New York City’.

He could barely fathom that he didn’t piece together that the pretty barista he was falling for was simultaneously his gaming buddy (might I add, for the last eight years) and was working for Big Mama.

At this very moment, Donatello was sure of two things in his life. One of them being his life was a joke and the second being that he was fraternizing with the enemy.

All because he decided to run errands whilst donning his cloaking brooch.

Warnings: Aged-Up turtles, fluff, Half-Yokai OC, AFAB OC (does use she/her/they pronouns in writing), swearing

FIRST

Ch 12 – Boysenberry

Your eyes scan the conversation on your phone as you lay in bed, still brewing over the disaster date from Hell that happened a few days prior. Huffing annoyedly, you roll over on your back and adjust your shirt roughly, so it doesn’t ride up your back uncomfortably. There’s a wall of text from Donatello before leading into a very brief conversation between the two of you.

Between the ‘I understand’s and online apologies from Donatello and the ‘I need space’ from you, you weren’t quite sure how to move forward with things. The text thread and Discord chats were dead, and while you’re relieved and thankful Donatello has always been nothing but respectful and took things literally to a fault, you’re almost…sad he doesn’t try to reach out.

It felt like a breakup. It hurt and it made you angry. Not only did you have to come to terms with him not having romantic feelings, but you also needed to grieve that you didn’t really have a friend in him either anymore, atleast for the time being. It was still up in the air with next steps, but you were still so hurt and confused.

Trudging through your apartment, the mess had gotten away from you. Between yourself, Usagi and the occasional Leo coming through couch cushions lived on the floor, blankets strewn across any surface and not to mention any type of snack or fast-food container littered your counter tops and coffee table. The dish washer was still broken and it was now not going to get fixed just because you were not on speaking terms with Donatello so you’d have to dip into a paycheque to buy a new one.

Washing dishes were your least favorite chore and thus it was done the least. You made a mental note to ask Leo to do them next time he was over, it was the least he could do for invading your tiny one bedroom apartment. It cost a ton to feed both a big Rabbit-Yokai and an even bigger ‘Mutant Turtle’.

Fluffing out a garbage bag you start to sort out your garbage and compost, your nose wrinkling at the smell of leftover food. You’d spent the last few days vegging out by yourself, crying, watching shitty rom-coms (where the guy does in fact, get the girl, as always) and doing bad karaoke with your blue boys.

Exhaling heavily, you set the garbage bag down in a corner and start doing a half ass clean around your apartment. It looks half decent after an hour, with anything plush in a bin set aside in the bedroom and the dirty dishes stacked in the sink instead of all over the apartment. You light a few candles, a liberty you try to indulge in now given Donatello won’t be coming by for a... very long while, before popping into the bathroom to take a well-deserved shower.

You wipe away the condensation off the mirror and encase your ears and hair in towel atop your head. Fingers itch to pick up your phone and you do, only to be welcomed with no notifications. Rolling your eyes, you ignore the sinking feeling in your gut, “Stupid.” You mutter under your breath as you dry off and place your phone on the counter rougher than you mean to.

Pulling the spare blankets from the closet you give them a quick sniff and cringe, how long had those been sitting in here? They smelt old, but with everything else waiting to be washed you’d have to make do. You pile a few fluffier blankets onto the couch and push it around with your hands to make it into a burrow before submerging into it. Your nose wrinkles at the smell of the blankets and you try your best to squash down the urge to pick out an unkempt blanket from the laundry bin that smelled like Donatello. Everything that smelled like Usagi, smelled slightly like Leo and while it wasn’t unwelcome, it was a change that you weren’t used to yet.

Getting comfortable was not a luxury that was awarded to you as you thrashed inside the blanket burrow. Pulling up the couch cushions, you kneaded at them roughly in a poor attempt to fluff them up and in a flash your eyes light up as your nose catches a whiff of…something. It smelt good, and it was comforting. Through unfocused vision you shift your head as your nose twitches and tries to catch the scent in the air again.

Stuffed between the crevices of the couch was Donatello’s signature purple hoodie.

Mentally you scold yourself at how much you wanted to drown in the scent and grab at it with force pulling it from its confines. Balling it up you fully intend on throwing it across the apartment and while your arm does the motion, your hand does not let go.

Eyes flit to the balcony and then to the rest of your tiny abode as if someone was going to catch you doing something wrong. Your nose is pressed to the soft fabric before you can comprehend what you’re doing, and you inhale so deeply it makes you lightheaded. Fingers clenching into the hoodie, the fabric is gently rubbed against your cheeks. Donatello was very cognizant of the texture of clothing he owned, even all the causal clothing he wore around your apartment was in pristine condition and almost always the softest article of clothing you touched at any given time.

In a moment of weakness, the hoodie makes its way onto your body, sleeves pooling around your wrists and the collar is pulled up to cover half your face above your nose. The satin lining of the hoodie does little to soothe the cacophony of emotions that run between your chest and stomach. Donnie said his clothes were up for grabs and you had explicit permission to wear them, but you felt almost guilty for wearing his clothes and knowing he didn’t like you in the way you liked him. The Donnie that materializes in your thoughts drowns you in his scent clothes, top to bottom, because he likes you. Because he wanted you and the thought shoots straight down.

You jump up at the sound of your phone pinging and you wrestle your way out of the burrow you’ve made. The phone screen lights up and you groan looking at the calendar reminder about a friends birthday party you were meant to go to tonight. You push down the disappointment that it isn’t Donnie. Tears pool at the corners of your eyes out of frustration and you press your palms hard into your eyes to quell the tears, Donatello was meant to help you pick out and tailor an outfit for you for tonight.

You tap the ‘confirm’ button to send to your friend and lay back down going through your mental checklist of what you needed to do if you were going to attend the event. Glancing at the clock it tells you that you had roughly two hours to freshen up, find an outfit in your closet, probably tailor it (you didn’t know how to tailor) and then hop in an Uber.

Begrudgingly your legs kick out and off the couch, paw pads sinking into the plush carpet. A coffee was in order.

Braving the winter weather, you make your way over to Rendezvous. The coffee shop was so close you decided Donnie’s hoodie and a pair of fleece lined leggings with boots would be sufficient for your trek, you just hoped to any and all deities you wouldn’t run into him.

A blast of warm air hits you as you enter in the coffee shop and you upnod your coworkers’ working the till and coffee station. You busy yourself by picking around your cuticles as you wait in line, your phone essentially useless to you and you weren’t sure if you were strong enough to not text Donnie given the stress you were under to make it to the event tonight.

Your heart jumps as a green tridactyl hand comes to cover yours to curb your picking, “Fancy seeing you here.” His eyes flit over to your hoodie and his pupils dilate; you supposed purple was his color too.

You snort and face him with a crooked smile and a shrug. “It’s not like I work here or anything, Fearless.”

He looks tired, bags under his eyes, his brows drawn on with not as much care as usual.

He quirks a brow with a small grimace, “Fearless?”

Chuckling you nod, “Yeah, my ‘fearless hero’ who escorted me home. Or do you prefer ‘Hero-Boy’ instead? ‘Friendly-Neighborhood Purple Turtle’ is a mouthful and I refuse to call you that while we protect your identity.” Thinking back to your encounter with him in front of the bank, you couldn’t for the life of you what Leo called him. Donathon? No, that’s not even a real name. Was it Jonathon? That seemed more plausible.

The terrapin in purple takes a solid few seconds musing over his options thoughtfully before nodding, “A bit odd as my brother is often also referred to as ‘Fearless’ as a silly nickname, but it’ll do for now.” You make a mental check in your brain as he confirms he has a brother. Perhaps him and Leo were brothers? You couldn’t assume any Terrapin Yokai was related, you wouldn’t be any better than the people who insisted that you and Usagi were cousins.

The both of you reach the front of the line and you hold a hand up and slap down your card and mischievous glint in your eye, “I got it, you look a little worse for wear.”

“Oh hoh, you’re one to talk.” He eyes you up casually with a playful grin and you’re suddenly self conscious of the messy damp hair tied up on your head along with the too-big hoodie and mis matched socks. Knocking your arm into his roughly you shush him and order what you need to as your co-worker glances between the two of you suggestively. Rolling your eyes, you do a tiny shake of your head to your co-worker to get them to bite their tongue over the dynamic between the two of you.

“This is a weird question,” the coffee shop was busier than it usually was and the ambient sounds of customers was comforting, “do you know how to tailor?”

Fearless nods, slowly. “I do, mutant turtles do not often fit into human clothes and thus a lot of tailoring does need to happen.” He nods his thanks to your co-worker before picking up both latte’s and handing you one. A blush creeps up your neck as you linger a little longer at his hands than you mean to, the paper cup looked so tiny in comparison.

“Second weird question, I have an event tonight and I probably don’t have anything that’s ready to wear. But I might be able to put something together, the catch is-“

“You’d need someone to tailor so it’d fit.”

“That big brain of yours is working hard, Fearless.”

He laughs allowing you a peak at his pointed canines you’ve never noticed before, “Inviting me into your home and you haven’t even taken me out to dinner.”

Scowling, your cheeks are painted pink. The smile he tosses you reaches his eyes, and he doesn’t look ragged anymore. You don’t recall him ever being this brazen with you before, and this version of him was much more tolerable than the version you had run into with your rabbit ears equipped. You have you avert your gaze, so you don’t combust and head to the front door, “I asked you for help, not for your hand in marriage.” He snorts and follows close behind you, “I had a friend who was meant to swing by but…” your free hand waves absentmindedly, “it fell through. They uh, left me hanging, so to speak.”

Fearless hums and opens the door allowing you to pass through first and you shiver at the temperature change, “Sounds like they’re an idiot. I’d be happy to assist you. This is exactly what your Friendly-Neighborhood Purple Turtle does.”

“You’ll have to excuse the mess, I half-way cleaned earlier but uh, I’m going through it right now.” Sheepishly you shrug and open the door and kick your boots off. Quickly you make your way to the balcony and open the door to allow some circulation into the tiny apartment, then haphazard clean anything out of place and kick the garbage bag you were using farther off to the side and tie it closed. “Sorry, Fearless. I’m usually better than this.”

He waves his hand casually, “Worry not, Violet! We all ‘go through it’ as you say.” He makes air quotes with a single digit on both hands. If he’s disgusted by your dinky little apartment, he doesn’t show it.

“Right, well, shoes off,” a pause, “Nevermind. Make yourself at home was where I was going with that.”

Fearless moves through your space like he owns it. He picks a coaster off the top o your fridge and pops a coffee pod into the Keurig before refilling the water and pressing start. He opens the cabinet under your sink to dispose of the old coffee pod and washes his hands, “Let’s get started, shall we?”

“How’d you know where the coasters were? No one has ever successfully guessed where I keep them.”

There’s the most miniscule pause before he shrugs casually, “I’m a ninja, Violet. Always expect the unexpected.”

You give him an incredulous look and make your way to the bedroom, “Sure? I don’t really know how that answers my question?” You catalogue this dialogue and make sure to bring it up at Girls Night tomorrow.

Fearless claps his hands twice, “Chop, chop, s’il vous plait! Off to the bedroom with you.” He allows you to enter first and presses a hand to the small of your back, his hand almost fully encompassing your waist due to its size, as he makes his way around you.

You pray he doesn’t catch your shiver as his fingertips leave you, “Okay, so uh, I had a few options for tonight. The event is like, semi-formal? I have a few dresses, but I think they might be a bit too small. I’m not sure if there’s enough fabric to really let them out and re-do the seams? I also have a skirt and a top option.” You pull out various clothes and toss them onto your unmade bed, “Yeah, sorry the bedroom is usually in better shape too but yenno.”

“Let’s see. May I also have a look in your closet?”

Nodding you step aside, “I’ve got all my kinda formal stuff in here, go crazy.”

Fearless is meticulous in looking through your wardrobe. He pinches and rolls fabric in between his fingers and holds articles of clothing in front of him to fully examine in silence before placing them back thoughtfully. You watch him from your perch on the bed and catch his nostrils flare for a moment then stop. Weird, maybe you needed to toss some mothballs in there if your wardrobe smelled like mildew or something.

He turns and looks at the selection you haphazardly put together on the bed, “This red one seems adequate. The color would be appropriate for an evening cocktail type of event. What’s wrong with this one?” It’s a tight fitting, midi length dress with full length sleeves and a collar that would rest right under your neck. The top fabric is sheer and the under fabric stopped just a few inches before the sheer fabric did to give the dress a bit more depth.

He pulls at the fabric to test its stretchiness and holds it out in front of you pinching where the shoulders would be. “Nothing, it’s too tight.”

“Where?”

“Er, in the hip area.”

The rabbit DNA was a blessing and a curse.

There’s a very light blush across his snout you think is adorable as he clears his throat, “Right,” he moves and sits on the edge of the bed stiffly, “Give me a moment.” He straightens out the dress and drapes it over his lap delicately, then starting from the collar of his hoodie, he pulls up and over. You barely register that his goggles get jostled and that he slightly rearranges his wrappings in the tussle with his hoodie as his plastron being revealed inch by inch is much prettier view. He still had his black wrappings and grey sweats equipped so he wasn’t naked by definition but it sure as hell felt like he was. His hand is on his own shoulder, and he rotates his arm from the shoulder to relax it, his bicep flexing as he wiggles his fingers and takes hold of the dress again.

God, what is wrong with you? One minute you’re crying over Donnie and the next you’re thirsting over a Yokai that’s conveniently in your bedroom.

Mechanical arms pop out of his tech shell and procure a small sewing kit and he gets to work. The bed dips behind him and you give him adequate space to work as you hover over his shoulder to watch. You’d never been this close before and you take full advantage of unabashedly staring as his focus is pulled elsewhere, his tongue poking out as he does the task at hand.

Freckles peppered the pebbled skin on his shoulders, his elbows also a slightly darker shade of green. Rectangle purple markings grace his biceps, they match the ones on his thighs you’ve seen before. His mask covered most of them, but you just barely get a peak at the light smattering of freckles that went over his snout, you bet he was gorgeous in the sun. Three thin stripes grow downwards and over the expanse of his throat, and with you this close you can tell they taper off with only a light online leading to the edge of the top of his plastron.

“Your stripes still growing in?” you whisper not to disturb him, your chin dangerously close to resting on the shoulder plate of his battle shell as you watch his fingers deftly seam rip the dress.

The feeling of pride surges through you as he tries to hide his shiver by clearing his throat. “Yes, as I get older, my stripes being more prominent. It seems they develop and elongate downwards, the ones on here,” he points to this throat and your eyes follow the curve of it, “are still coming in.”

The silence is easy and your hip hurts from sitting so still on it as to not disturb Fearless’ work. You watch him tie off the final knot and he brings the excess thread to his mouth and cuts it with his canine. The act causes a flutter down below and you stand up to cover up squeezing your thighs together. You were drowning in very potent Donnie musk from the hoodie you wore and had a cute boy in your bed. This was natural. Your brain and body were getting mixed signals from all the stimuli. That was all! It wasn’t like you wanted to rip his wrappings off and lick up his stripes, no sir. You did not want that.

“Here you are, try it on. I’ll put together something as a back up as you go change.”

Nodding, you pass in front of him and head the bathroom rather quickly trying to still your racing heart. You get dressed easy enough and do a few squats and jumping jacks in the privacy of your own bathroom to test the strength of his work, you didn’t need a wardrobe malfunction while out tonight and with no one to call to help. You use one hand to run through your hair and the other to scour the inside of the side bathroom drawer, “Found it.” Usagi had gifted you a micro cloaking brooch disguised as a hair pin, the gem in the middle was clear and resembled an opal. You slick back one side of your hair and use the pin to keep it there, then fasten it with a few other pins to ensure no disasters would come of tonight.

There’s a few soft knocks at the door, “I’m merely checking in on you, it’s taking a minute. Does it not fit?”

“Er, no! I mean, yes, it does fit. It fits perfectly! Give me a sec.”

“Alright, I’ll head back to your room. I have a back up outfit in case you deem this one not appropriate for the event.”

The dress fit too well; it looked like you were poured into it. It was so form fitting you forego the underwear, you’re lucky the fabric was thick enough to hide the shape of your bra under it. The silky fabric hugged your soft, round curves and didn’t pile or rouche around your torso or hips anymore leaving a clean curve the eye could follow. You had a bit of pudge on your stomach and your “hip dips” were prominent, but you couldn’t be bothered, you spent years feeling bad for having a body and tonight was not the time for self doubt in such a pretty red dress.

“Hoh boy.” Looking at yourself one more time in the mirror you gave yourself a tiny pep talk and exited the bathroom. The bedroom door was closed and you very quietly paced back and forth as you talked yourself up and enter.

His eyes are down cast looking at the clothing options on the bed, “I’m thinking this midi skirt, with this top, if you’re not a fan of the dress. I also took the liberty on sewing up a hole on this pair of jeans I found, it was just above your tail bone, how did you manage that by the way? It’s a very odd place to need repairs. I also noticed your dish washer is broken, the main indicator being many dishes in the sink. It was an easy repair; I hope you don’t mind but why buy a new one when I could just fix the one you have? I added a bit of ‘Fearless-Flair’ to it, I haven’t tested it out but I’m sure it’ll work. I’ve programmed it to load itself so you don’t have to. One less thing for you to worry about, the modern age of technology is convenience! Forgive me, I’m rambling, anyways-“

The way he stares at you makes you think he wants to take a bite, or possibly just devour you whole. You catch his eyeline following up the curve of your hips and then back down doing a onceover. Heat raced up your thighs and behind it chased the feeling of guilt as your foggy brain latches onto the thought of Donnie. Were you a bad person for feeling like this about Fearless as your heart still belonged to someone else? ‘Someone else that didn’t like you,’ your mind chastised.

It's barely a mumble but your ears pick it up anyway, “You look pretty.” The statement is so soft in comparison to the intensity his eyes held.

“Pretty?” you repeat after him curling into yourself slightly, your fingers clasped in front of you. You hope the pink that is affixed to your cheeks looked pretty against the red dress.

He must mistake your shyness for being uncomfortable and he spring into action waving his arms out in front of him, “P-pretty!? Did I say that?”, he trips over his own feet as he takes a step forward and catches himself on your dresser effectively knocking over everything on the top of it, “What I meant to say,” he rights himself and tumbles next to you slamming himself against the wall next to you with an overly nervous laugh, “was that you looked pretty shitty!”

It starts off slow with a few snickers and before you know it you’re doubled over, hands over your midsection guffawing. Taking a few deep inhales to steady your breathing, you wipe at the corners of your eyes, “Oh god, Fearless, you’re something else!” a few more giggles sputter out as you catch your breath.

Fearless’ shoulders relax and a relaxed grin takes over his features that you return in earnest.

He opens his mouth to say something but you both jump as you hear the front door click, “Oh shit, that’s probably my friend! Oh my god, he can’t see you or I’m never going to hear the end of it.”

“Letty? Babes, are you home?”

Pressing your ear to the door you hear his foot steps quickly approaching, “Fuck, okay he’s coming in here, just- ugh, don’t say anything!”

“Who!? Why are they coming in here!?” he’s crouched at your eye level.

“I don’t fucking know! Just- just, shhh!” Fearless tenses as you put your hand over his mouth effectively silencing him. There is an attempt to move your hand from his mouth, his brows furrowed annoyed with the course of action, but with your free hand you press on his plastron keeping him in place, “Don’t move and stay quiet.” There’s a pointed eye roll but a single nod in confirmation he was going to play along, “Good boy.”

That garners a reaction you weren’t ready for as you feel a brief but deep rumble from his chest under your hand. His eyes are wide, and the rumble stops as the doorknob twists.

“Hey, oh my gosh! You look amazing, it’s Yoru’s event tonight, right? Also, do you know where my phone charger is?” Usagi tries to enter, and you stop him with your foot, “Uh, living room!”

Usagi pauses and looks you up and down, “What’s going on? You okay?” his arms are quickly crossed over his chest suspiciously and you catch his ears swivel to pick up any sound.

Nodding quickly, “Yeah, I’m just uh, super nervous for tonight! You know what I’m like and you’re not even coming to hang out with me! Phew, my social anxiety is through the roof!”

This seems to satisfy him as he stops trying to enter your bedroom, “Oh, well, I’m sorry, did you want me to cancel on-?”

“No, no! You’re all good, I’ll be totally fine.”

There’s a pause and you continue on, “So, the phone charger, it’s plugged in by the TV, if you wanted to grab it. I still need to finish up my makeup before heading out, so… you can let yourself out.”

If Usagi knows you’re lying, which he probably does, he takes mercy on you and strolls to grab the charger as you stand in your doorway, unmoving.

“So, any news on the Donnie situation?” Usagi roots around and unplugs his charger.

Your fingers twitch and you scowl, of course he’d bring this up right now, “Uh, nope! Radio silence, er, which is exactly what I asked for.”

“You still miss him?”

Head in your free hand you wince and flounder for words as the tightness in your chest hits you full force and Usagi continues, “It’s okay if you do, I think it’d be weird if you didn’t. I think it’ll work itself out eventually, but yenno, I think you’ll be okay.” Usagi is kind enough to tidy your couch fixating his eyes everywhere but at you, knowing eye contact made things more difficult.

The dress suddenly feels too restricting and you’re breathing heavy now, out of your nose, finding words is more difficult as the seconds pass and if you wait any longer to answer Usagi would for sure know that you’re hiding something.

Get it together, get it together, breathe, breathe, breathe.

The terrapins hand encompasses your own and moves it to his chest, placing your palm to his plastron and he holds firmly, applying gentle pressure. Your hand is entirely hidden by his resting one and his thumb rubs over the skin on the back of your hand. His plastron vibrates, soft and reassuring. It was the rumble again, did turtles purr? Didn’t Usagi say something about Leo purring? It was called churring, you recall.

Your breathing steadies and your eyes find his and smile sheepishly, “I think I’ll be okay, too.” There’s something familiar about the way his lips curve upwards and the adorable tilt of his head, but you can’t place it. He does another firm squeeze to your hand as he stops churring.

Usagi claps and you almost give yourself whiplash looking towards him, “I’ll be going then, got what I need.” He holds up the charger and plug in attachment. Usagi squints in your direction but does head over to the door, “Text when you get there safe tonight, I’ll be at my place tonight.”

Deeming it safe you take back your hand and walk forward to tail behind the rabbit and close the door behind him, “Will do, love you!”

Your back rests against the front door, “They’re gone, Fearless. You can come out.”

He pops out with his sweater equipped while you pull a cold round citrus fruit out of the fridge. “Any allergies?”

He shakes his head and leans on the counter, chin in his hand as he watches your fingers peel the fruit expertly.

Palm up, you out stretch your hand and wiggle your fingers. He thankfully catches what you’re saying and places his hand out, palm up as well. “Thanks for tonight. Like, for everything.” The fruit is peeled fully, even taking care to remove the white membrane. It’s gently pressed into his hand, your free hand cups the back of his and you squeeze before letting go.

“It’s a-“

“Clementine.” He finishes off for you.

Nodding you toss the peel in the compost bin, “Yeah! Fun fact, did you know it’s a hybrid between a willowleaf mandarin orange and a sweet orange? Hopefully the one I gave you is sweet.”

He cradles the tiny orange fruit in both hands and turns so you can only see his side profile as he stares down at his hands, his eyes shimmering. Is he about to cry?

Fearless conceals a sniffle poorly with a cough and turns his back to you while wiping at his eyes before popping a segment in his mouth and sliding over half the fruit to you, back still turned. “It’s sweet, have some.”

The segment bursts in your mouth and you hum appreciatively at the flavor. He’s oddly neutral and you think he needs some time to himself, for whatever reason. Glancing at the clock you make your way to the bathroom again, “I’ve gotta keep getting ready, but seriously, thank you again. If you’re comfortable, you can leave through the front door. Or alternatively the patio.”

He says nothing as you pass him by and shut the door behind you.

A few minutes pass and you don’t hear him moving about the space. You exit once your makeup is done and your apartment is empty again, the patio door closed with no sign of Fearless.

Huh, you really didn’t know what to think of that guy, however you do decide to keep Fearless your little secret. For now, atleast.

TIME SKIP, Next day, evening

The sound of the vacuum mixed with the tunes in the background from your Spotify playlist is enough stimuli for your brain to keep you going as you prepare snack bowls for you and your friends. Usagi was ever so graciously manning the vacuum around the tiny space, lifting one end of the couch up with one hand, vacuuming underneath it then placing the couch back in its’ place.

Your counter tops were full of food ranging with popcorn, candys, chocolate and chips on one side and the other side consisting of sprinkles, any type of confectionary type toppings and a waffle machine. Both pancake and waffle batter was at the ready in the fridge along with home made whip cream. Breakfast for dinner was always a favorite of yours and the fluttering, giddy feeling in your chest shone brightly at being able to indulge in this with your friends.

“I think I’m all done on my end.” Usagi coils the cord around the machine and stows it away before hooking up the Nintendo Switch to your television and also plug in numerous phone chargers on an outlet near him. “Perfect, now no one needs to fight over a phone charge.”

You giggle and flap your hands in front of you, “I’m dizzy, I’m so excited!” You take another peak at your phone and watch the time change before reaching for your brooch on instinct. A furry hand catches your wrist, “You’re good, you don’t need it with them.” Stowing it away in your junk drawer you unlock your front door in preparation then jog over to the balcony door to unlock that as well, just in case Leo were to pop in unannounced as he usually does.

“They’re here! I’ll go get them.” Usagi feet does a few excited thumps on the carpet before prancing out of the suite and down the stairs to grab them.

Absentmindedly, you push around the bowls and rearrange them in the time it takes for Usagi to come back up with Sunita.

April squeals with her arms outstretched and makes a grabby hand motion at you, “C’mere you! How’re you doing, girl!”

You wrap your arms around her and hold on tightly as you both sway side to side, “Good, good! Well, yenno, been better but good now!” April gives good hugs, you decide. They’re firm and she digs here fingers slightly into your shoulder before rubbing your back.

Sunita is close behind April and wraps her arms around the two of you and holds tight, “I can’t believe the plans made it out of the group chat!”

The click of the door signals Usagi’s in and he pats each of you on the head before rubbing his furry hands together, “Let’s get situated with food and someone pick something to put on the tv to ignore. So something mildly entertaining but maybe something we’ve all seen?”

Sunita does a two-finger salute and pops a handful of candies in her mouth before making her way over to your living room to scroll through your streaming services.

Between the three of you in your very tiny kitchen, you get the waffle iron and toasty pan going on your stovetop and you begin to ladle in the batter.

“Got some tunes going! Couldn’t pick anything on a streaming service.” Sunita grooves her way to the kitchen and leans on the counter, “How’s Cass, Apes?”

“Who’s Cass?” the buttery pancake melts in your mouth, “Oh shit, this is really good!” Usagi flicks his wrist and tucks a pretend strand of hair behind his ear, “Pfft, thanks,” a goofy grin graces his features.

“My girlfriend!”

“Oh, Apes, why didn’t y’all say anything? We should’ve invited them!” you explain and pull a waffle off the iron and let it fall onto a plate to save your fingertips.

April shakes her head casually and polishes off the marshmallow bowl, “She’s busy at work tonight!” she flicks her wrist at you to signal an ‘it’s all good’, “next time. She’s a bit intense, so consider yourself ready for next time.”

“I don’t know what that means but fair enough, thank you.”

Usagi polishes off a pancake and sprays whip cream in his mouth straight from the can, “Yeah, that’s definitely the truth. She is intense.” He shrugs and smiles playfully at April, “Like, in a good way.”

April rolls her eyes at him casually and pushes her red frames up higher on her nose, “First things first, I love your digs, babe!” April saunters around your cozy apartment, walls covered in sage green. An accent wall with abstract shapes and paint strokes in a soft lavender that could almost be a grey. There were a few floating shelves that were sporadically placed filling the emptiness of the walls that had various trinkets, baubles, and photo frames.

April rubs the bottoms of her feet on the plush rug encompassing most of the square footage in the main area in the living room, “Ooo, this is nice! No offense or anything, but aren’t you just a barista?”

You guffaw and make your way over to her and drape yourself over the back of the sofa, “I work a second job that pays way too much, and this apartment is technically a ‘hand me down’ from my late-dad, so I pay the strata fee but the suite itself is paid off.”

“Lucky rabbit!” Sunita exclaims from her position in the kitchen.

You giggle and nod, “You got that right.”

“Is it just you then?” April prompts. You shake your head and draw shapes on the couch cushion, “Nah, I’ve got my mom. She lives out of town, but I do see her occasionally.”

Sunita picks up a face down photo frame hidden behind another propped up frame, “Awee, you two are too cute!” she holds the frame as if to show a classroom of kids something and the three of you peak over at it. April coos and takes the frame delicately from Sunita.

You snort, only mildly embarrassed as you recall the photo. It’s a photo of a much younger version of you and Usagi, your faces both round and youthful, the tufts of fur on his cheeks and his fringe much longer it needs to be swept backwards. Your stark white hair is messily piled on the top of your head, your rabbit ears lazily positioned downwards to showcase the carefree nature of the photo. His arm is wrapped around your shoulders and both your cheeks are squished against each others making the photo-you wink. Your free hand closest to him finds Usagi’s cheek and cups it aiding in his cheek squishing yours and your other hand is posed in a peace sign. Your tongue pokes out of your boyish grin and Usagi matches the energy with a wolfish grin.

“It’s the first photo I took with my bunny ears out, yenno after my mutation. We look like twins, if you can get past the fact that I guess I’m mostly human.” You chuckle and stare fondly at the photo. You didn’t know where you’d be without him.

“I’m so cute!” Usagi grins, “I remember when my bangs were that long, gee. Why didn’t you tell me to cut them, dude? I thought we were friends!”

“You’re literally so dramatic, shut up! You’re just like Leo. That was a look back in the day, that was the trend!”

“Leo?” April quirks a brow and places the photo frame back up.

There’s an awkward pause as you search Usagi’s eyes, feeling the tense air around you. You didn’t mean to out him having a boyfriend.

“Oh, he’s just someone I’m seeing! I’m keeping it on the down low, he has a big family and we’re trying to enjoy each others time before we inevitably become the talk of the town. We’re still really in the beginning stages, if you get me.”

You nod quickly and mouth ‘sorry’ at him while you’ve got his gaze on you. Usagi does a small shrug and a smile to let you know you’re off the hook and only then is when you relax.

April nods understandingly, “I gotcha, happy to hear about him when you’re ready.” She winks and puts the frame face down where it was, “Why was this face down anyways?”

You clap and jump into action, “Perfect segue, April! To answer your question and to finally address what has been going on with that mystery guy, let me get into it because I have a physical portion of this presentation in the form of an investigation cork board.”

Sunita stares blankly, “An investigation…cork board?”

“I haven’t seen this magical cork board you’ve put together-“ Usagi starts and then is interrupted, “Yes, because I did it in the dead of night after Yoru’s party.”

Usagi starts up again, “Okay, thank you. I think she means like in that meme? With the guy in front of a cork board with clues pinned in it and the red string tying together evidence?”

“The one where the guy looks entirely manic?” April asks deadpan, her hand already making its way to her forehead to rub at her temples.

You shoo April and Sunita on the couch like you’re corralling sheep until they flop onto the couch, “Exactly! I have prepared tirelessly to have this done for you today.” You push the bridge of your glasses farther up your nose and April catches a mischievous glint in your lenses before pulling a cat laser pointer off a shelf and hold your hands behind your back ready to start your lecture.

“Do you have a cat?” Sunita squints and you shake your head, “No, I just like to have things. Anyways-“

You recount the events over the last half a year, dipping into the necessary details of the alias’ of Othello Von Ryan and Bootyyyshaker9000 (earning a very wide eyed stare from April and Sunita which you equated to the nature of the odd username, Bootyyyshaker9000 really did it for people), going into the semi-reveal, filling in tiny details here and there in terms of nuance and things you didn’t deem as important but wanted to share, your feelings you weren’t sure what to do with, the bank incident (omitting Leo, to give Usagi a privacy shield), the infamous ‘Albearto Date from Hell’ and you spilled a bit about Fearless but didn’t include what happened the night before.

“And so that’s why that photo frame is face down, Donnie doesn’t know I’m part Yokai. Now that I’m thinking of it, not many people do and that’s also why I have the frame down, not just because of him. I do have a life outside of thinking of him.” You ramble on and hold a hand up, “I know we’ve got questions but you gotta give me two seconds to pull out my presentation!”

Scrambling to the bedroom, you slam the door open, and wheel out a large cork board with pinned with various photos of Donnie and Fearless (both taken from the security camera at Rendezvous then printed out at the library), post it notes with haphazard writing and red strings connecting the various theories you had connecting the two of them.

“Oh wow, Sunita! Look at this!” April nudges her elbow hard into her friends’ ribs and Sunita coughs and catches herself from doubling over, “Oh, I am looking! I am looking with my eyes. I am seeing exactly what you’re seeing!”

“Right! So, we’re all seeing it!” you exclaim happily paired with excited flappy hands.

“Oh, okay, so you both also think he’s the same bitch? I mean, they both wear like the exact same shade of purple.” Usagi tags into the conversation, licking the whip cream off his milkshake.

The exclamation of ‘no!’ and ‘it can’t be!’ is so loud it makes you jump and almost makes you a tad suspicious. April scrambles to her feet and slams face first into the cork board and you flail to catch her and board from falling over completely. “Wuh- April!”

“They can’t be the same person,” she fumbles over her words while looking over the photos, “Because, because!”

“Because well, there isn’t any solid proof right? This is all speculation!” Sunita fans her hands out to create an imaginary rainbow in front of her. April nods and looks over the post it notes, “Okay… uh, “Donatello” has four brothers okay… that’s confirmed.” she points to some green writing beside an obnoxious check mark. Her eyes follow the red string to a blurry photo clearly taken off of a Reddit post about the infamous Yokais who saved NYC, “Okay and there’s….four of those vigilante Yokai. These don’t even go together! Trust me, I’m going to school for journalism.”

“Wait, so the only reason I out those two together is because I think the color-coded vigilante are like, a team! There’s four of them and….Donnie’s one of four brothers. Okay, I guess that one is a reach, but still!” You shrug sheepishly and change queue up the next playlist on the television. “Side note, if you’re in school for journalism, you’d be eating this up! Not to like, expose them but to crack the case! You’re supposed to live for this.”

“And the four of them order take out from Tios’! So, I guess if they were the same person, this would check out. It’s also not unheard of Yokai’s using cloaking brooches, literally Letty is one of them.” Usagi points out and comes up next to the board. You nod along in agreeance, “On top of that, Donnie does know what ‘Run of the Mill’ is, they’ve done take out there before! The Yokai vigilantes and Donnie and his brothers both frequent this spot.”

“That’s not much of a clue though, Huesos’ is one of the most, if not, the most popular Hidden City restaurant there is, aside from anything Grand Nexus franchise related. Statistically, it’s reasonable for them to be different people and both frequent the same joint.” April points out nonchalantly, eyes fixated on the board combing through the photos and writing.

“You think his name is Jonathon?” Sunita points to another post-it note swinging the conversation in a different way.

The post it in question had the word ‘Donathon?’, then underneath it ‘Jonathon? MORE LIKELY’, and then underneath that ‘Fearless’.

“I overheard one of them call him ‘Donathon’, maybe? It’s barely popularized, I checked Google. So, ‘Jonathon’ is probably much more likely. He,” pointing to the turtle Yokai, “did refuse to give me his name when he walked me home one night, under the guise of keeping his secret identity. I just call him ‘Fearless’, it’s a play on words for like, ‘fearless hero’- anyways, it’s tacky. I need everyone to keep their thoughts to themselves, okay.” Muttering under your breath you fight the urge to cross out the silly nickname yourself to avoid the laughs. You consider yourself lucky no one bats an eye at your embarrassment while you busy yourself in the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea.

“It totally makes sense if Donnie and Fearless are the same person that ‘Fearless’ wouldn’t want to give you his actual name since then he’d out himself as Donnie!” Usagi points out.

“Okay, well why would he lie about being a mutant? That doesn’t make sense.” April prods.

Groaning you run your palms over your face, “How would I know!? I wouldn’t put it past him at this point because he was super against us ever meeting in person, which is a point in the direction of ‘he’s a Yokai in disguise’.”

“The purple thing isn’t a clue either, have you guys ever heard of The Purple Dragons? They also wear this shade of purple exactly. It could just be a really popular color. Maybe it’s this years Pantone color? I’d probably dispute this clue too.” Sunita rubs her chin thoughtfully and squints at the board.

Usagi makes his way towards you and with his back facing your friends and he lifts his hand in front of his chest and does a thumbs up. Your eye flicker over to April and Sunita and ensure they’re still preoccupied, and you give him one back and it cues him to start signing.

‘A bit sus, they think every clue is wrong’

‘Agree, maybe she knows them? Keeping their identities secret.’

Usagi is beside you and quirks his brow at you, “So, do either of you think any of the clues on there point to them being the same person? Or are you going to keep protecting him?” Your eyes widen and you nudge him with your elbow, and you thought you were the spicy one.

“We’re not ‘protecting’ anyone, if we’re going to accuse someone two people of being the same person, the evidence needs to be rock solid.” April retorts back earnestly and shares a glance with Sunita that you can’t quite place the intention behind.

“Fearless was here the other night because I needed alterations for an outfit since I was going out,”

“I knew someone was here!” Usagi shoves you hard and gently smacks the back of your head.

“Yeah, okay! Anyways, he was here. And he walked around my apartment like he’d already been here. He picked a coaster off the top of my fridge, the most ridiculous place to keep them, and mind you, no one has ever come close to guessing where they are coming in here the first time. Explain that?” crossing your arms over your chest you make your way over to the fridge, then pick up your stack of coasters.

“He looks pretty tall from these photos, I think? If he’s as tall as Usagi, he probably was able to see it. And he’s a ninja!” Sunita points out stubbornly.

“He fixed my dishwasher and I didn’t even mention to him that it was broken. But I did mention it to Donnie a few weeks back. He did mention he noticed there were dishes everywhere so he took it upon himself to fix it but, seriously! That’s still weird, right!?” you felt like you were grasping at straws, you look to Usagi, “The night of the date, he kept disappearing then reappearing, and his clothes we’re always messed up. Like he kept getting undressed and re-dressed or something. That’s some Superman-type shit, don’t you think!?”

“Yeah! I mean, if he is a hero, it would make sense that maybe he was ‘on duty’ or something?” Usagi points out heatedly, his ears twitched as he narrowed his eyes at the pair across the room. The tension in the air had gone stale and the sugary sweet food you’d been eating sat heavy in your gut. Maybe this was a bad idea? You’d already hallucinated that Donnie liked you, it was entirely possible you had also made up this whole thing about the two of them being the same person.

“He might’ve been meeting with someone else?” Sunita suggested with a weary shrug as she looked over at April who opened her mouth a few times and closed it, “Uh yeah! M-maybe another girl or?” her expression is wide eyed, and she grimaces next before continuing, “No, wait! Uh, like in a friendly way! Not like sexy-friendly, like, just regular friendly!”

The statement knocks the wind out of you, and you’re unprepared for how hard your lungs grasp for oxygen. You never considered it. He wouldn’t do that to you. Would he?

“Ah, okay, time-out, this completely derailed itself.” Usagi pressed his fingers firmly into your back and rubs to ground you but it does little to your reeling mind as memories flood behind your eyes as you try and replay any and all of them, and Donnie’s been consistently inconsistent, with many things. The option of him being there for someone else was now on the table.

Doubt sowed itself deep within your bones, you were now extremely uncertain of Donnie and if your theory was even plausible that Fearless and him were the same person. Should you award Fearless with kindness at this point if you were to run into him again? You couldn’t shake the familiarity of Fearless but you supposed there wasn’t much basis to your ‘evidence’ aside from coincidences thus far.

You don’t know when April crosses into the kitchen and a feather light touch finds your shoulder, “I’m sure Donnie is a great guy, and he wouldn’t do something like that to you. I just got ahead of myself, I’m sorry. I’m a skeptic at heart… journalism and everything.” She finished lamely but you can hear the remorse in her voice, every word laced with guilt and concern.

Usagi pulls you closer to him and that is effective in having April let up on your shoulder. She reads the social cue and takes a step back. Before she can retreat too far, you link arms with her, “Thanks April, I know you’re just looking out for me. And you’re right, we need more solid evidence before we accuse them of being the same person. I feel like there’s a lot to comb over… we can rehash another night?” Usagi’s grip is still tight, and you can tell by the flex of his fingers he wants to pull you away from April and you give him a few light taps on his person and he relaxes slightly.

“Let’s rehash next time.” Sunita says encouragingly. You don’t know when she’s made it over to you but she rests her chin on your shoulder so it’s nestle between yours and Aprils. Nodding you untangle your limbs and take a sip of cold tea, it was unsatisfying and bitter.

“Well!”, April claps her hands once with finality, “saw you have a Switch, are we playing Smash or what?”

There’s more chatter and Usagi gives your side a squeeze before heading over to the television. The pit in your stomach hadn’t gone away, and the person you wanted comfort from was also the reason the pit exist in the first place.

Feet carry you to the living room and you plop yourself behind Usagi, your legs circling his and you rest your cheek against him. The view is mostly obscured but you can make out the tiny characters fighting over his shoulder and you feel a gentle purr reverberate through your chest, warmth flooding your senses.

“Up for a round?” Sunita holds out the controller for you with a tentative smile. Snorting you snatch it from her with a playful glare, “I’m going to beat your ass, babe.”

Usagi laughs and it’s familiar and soothing and he smells a bit like Leo, but he’s still him and you suppose that’s all the comfort you could wish for right now.

TBC

A/N : sorry for the long awaited update! i needed to sort out how this fic was going to end with its reveal etc and so it took me a bit longer just so i could TRY and avoid plot holes with the upcoming next few chapters (: i do have the next one ready and i’ll be putting it in queue to upload in about 1-2 weeks! <3 please enjoy!!

taglist: @maribatshipper @goldenpanda16 @moonlightmarauder @samilucas67

#rise donnie x reader #tmnt donatello #donatello #Rise Donatello #rise donatello x reader #rise donnie x oc #rise of the tmnt #Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #the cloaking brooch dilemma tmnt

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iarchmybaculajk · 2 years

Text

Zombie Baby

Series Page

Chapter summary: Jimin pov, stressed from a court appearance, Jungkook tries to help his boyfriend relax.

wk: 6k

Chapter 1

The restaurant smelled of incense, and not the good kind. Just that heady warm stink that tends to choke you if you linger in a smoke shop too long. But Jimin breathed it in deeply anyways, thankful for something other than the smell of rotting flesh for once.

That was just how it went these days, everywhere you went the smell rose up from the earth the way steam sizzled on the asphalt after it rained on a hot day. It was thick and permeated everything. There were times Jimin felt like he'd be forced to shave his head and burn his clothes just to be rid of it.

Even while he silently thanked his lucky stars this restaurant had a decent ventilation system and was vehemently Anti-Undead, his eyes burned and watered from the hot sweet smoke of the incense.

He blinked rapidly and wiped a little tear from the corner of his eye as it watered, giving his date a small grimace in the process, being sure to wrinkle his nose.

"Er, yeah," Jungkook began taking a small sniff, "It's almost as bad in here. Sorry about that."

He shrugged, running a hand through his blonde hair, a small smile on his face, "It's fine, gotta fight fire with fire I suppose."

He nodded, “So I guess we won’t be taking a post-date stroll in the park.”

He laughed coolly, “That would indeed be an accurate assumption. You can’t even take a stroll to the toilet without a shotgun these days, and I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not spoil the evening by tenderly wiping brain matter off your cheek.” He paused for effect, a smirk playing around the corners of his mouth, “I’d rather kiss it.”

The grin that spread across his face was a genuine one, which was hard to come by when most of your time was spent struggling to survive or simply trying to do something as simple as grocery shopping without dealing with the nuisance that was the Zombie Apocalypse. The term only loosely applies though, as it wasn’t so much an apocalypse as it was a totally annoying and somewhat debilitating pain in the ass that just so happened to have weeded out some of the stupider people alive.

After all, this isn’t the movies, only the completely mentally incapacitated got themselves killed. How hard is it to run faster than a corpse, or better yet, fight one off? They had absolutely no motor skills and zero upper body strength. However, their fluids, which they tended to share quite generously, were extremely hazardous – deadly even, or better yet, UN-deadly.

“Well, it is a really nice cheek, so I guess we could arrange something.” He stroked the almost too-smooth side of his face as if he were appreciating texture.

“You’re lucky you amuse me, or else I might think you’re a totally cocky jerk.” Jimin smirked, distractedly playing with the ice cubes in his water with a spoon.

He was admittedly a little preoccupied today; he was due to appear in court later this afternoon on an unlawful disposal of an un-dead person(s) charge. This wasn’t his first rodeo, he was pretty well known in his town for kicking ass and taking names when it came to the zombie pest infestation, and no one ever seemed to care before. But now, those damn tree-hugging morons were trying to give zombies rights, that’s right, ZOMBIES. Unfortunately for anyone with a brain, that meant that staying alive was only going to have that much more red tape and bullshit involved.

Piss off one jerk-off neighbor who is keeping his Grandma’s reanimated corpse as a pet and get thrown in jail. It’s not like he didn’t tell him to keep her in his own yard, but she kept getting into his garbage, so it was time to put Granny down.

People always wondered why he was so callous towards zombies, no sympathy, no remorse when he snuffed their non-existent life. That was probably because they were fucking zombies, DUH. He knew there were plenty of people who shared his views on the situation, and more than a few people that would support him in his quest to thin out the zombie herd, but as with everything there is always going to be enough dipshits to put a cramp in his style with their, “Zombies are People Too” campaigning.

Why couldn’t they just go back to policing social media, fixing climate change and saving the whales? It was like that Tootsie Pop commercial, the world may never know.

Jungkook feigned shock, “Me cocky? Yeah right, I’ve got modesty coming out the wazoo.” He frowned slightly, “Wazoo…” He said slowly, testing it out on his tongue, “what an idiotic word, I can’t believe I just said that.”

“Yeah, I was gunna point that out, but you beat me to it. I guess we can take word-smith off your list of attributes.” Jimin joked.

“Pfft, I’m a catch and you know it.” Jungkook grinned widely, his round bunny teeth in all their glory shining pearly white.

“Yup, you’re the best.” Jimin smiled sweetly and leaned forward, thankful for the mindless conversation that came so easily with Jungkook. He was the perfect distraction. “Thanks again for lunch, despite the lung cancer I now have from 2nd hand incense smoke, this place was pretty alright.” He took Jungkook’s large hand into own smaller ones.

“You’re welcome, I think.”

“Now kiss me, PUBLICLY!” he demanded, tugging his hand towards him and pursing his plush lips.

Jimin knew how much he hated PDA, and Jungkook knew how much he loved to tease him about it.

“Fine, aish!” He rolled his large round eyes and gave him a kiss, but the grin on Jungkook’s face told him he didn’t mind nearly as much as he let on.

He masked up, threw some money down on the table next to his crumpled napkin and discarded chopsticks, standing. “You ready?”

He glanced around the booth, putting his mask on quickly and making sure he had his bag. He lugged the oddly heavy bag out of the seat and threw it over his shoulder, pulling out one 9mm semi-automatic pistol from his treasure trove of deadly goodies, and took his boyfriend’s hand with his free one.

“Jesus, do you even have a chapstick in there, or is it only weapons?” Jungkook asked, eyeing his hand-gun with a cursory glance.

“I have a few spare masks and some hand sanitizer in there too. What, would you rather I carry a full manicure set? Maybe I could mani-pedi a Zombie to death!”

He laughed as he pulled Jimin along, leading the way as he typically did. “You’re such a brat.”

Jimin shrugged, “Yeah, but you love me anyway.”

They walked toward the exit hand in hand, the modern day couple; where it wasn’t entirely unusual to see a petite, 5ft '7, 27 year old man grasping a gun in one hand and his boyfriend’s hand in the other as nonchalantly as if it were a diet soda.

As they reached the door, he unclasped Jungkook’s hand and stepped ahead, leaning against the blacked out windows of the Chinese restaurant’s door, he opened the door slowly, making sure to scope the entire parking lot before he opened the door in its entirety.

“It’s cool, babe.” Jimin stated, and allowed Jungkook to push forward and assume his ‘alpha male’ role once again. Jungkook hated that Jimin was the one with the gun, but that was just the way it was. Jungkook may have played the more dominant role in the streets, and between the sheets, but it was Jimin who took care of the zombies. It didn’t exactly make sense, but hey… it sounded cool right?

“As much as I love having you being my savior and all, you probably should be a little more discreet with that gun.” Jungkook led the way to the car, his precious piece of shit Hyundai. Jimin mostly ignored him as he hopped into the passenger side, the one with the seat that wasn’t entirely bolted down and the seat belt that had no buckle to latch it.

“What are you so concerned about? It clearly isn’t safety judging from the death trap you’ve been driving us around in.” He fiddled with the seat belt, finding the lucky bolt on the inner side of the seat and hooking his belt to it. He pretended for his own piece of mind that it would somehow keep him from flying through the windshield, one could dream right?

“Well, I was just thinking about the fact that you’re on your way to court and all. Maybe a little discretion would go a long way? Besides, this car is as safe as any. Never did me wrong.” He stated defensively, popping a key into the ignition.

“Yeah, except that time it broke down. I mean, times.” Jimin smirked, purposely ignoring the court comment, he was already nervous as hell.

The car thankfully burst into life and puttered their way out of the parking lot. Jungkook squeezed his knee affectionately, “Don’t be jealous, there’s room in my life for both of you. Plus the cat. And the fish.”

“You sure about that? Sounds like you’ve got quite a lot on your plate, a car, a cat and fish. Are you sure I can fit into that little love quadrangle?”

“Oh yeah babe, there’s plenty to go around. Plus you’re at the top of my list, just don’t tell the cat. She’s a jealous bitch, and would probably poop on your pillow.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Jimin chuckled darkly.

All things considered, Jimin was a lucky guy. He had an amazing and utterly gorgeous boyfriend, enough ammo in their house to defend a small country and while the whole world may have gone to hell in a handbag, at least they had each other.

He glanced over to his boyfriend, who was absentmindedly pursing his lips in the endearing pout that he usually wore when he was concentrating, or lost in thought, which was often if we’re being honest. It was one of Jimin’s favorite things about him. He was snarky and cocky at times, but Jungkook was also very deep and thoughtful. The list of little things Jungkook never realized were so adorable was long, and Jimin preferred it that way, lest he get an even bigger head.

The man knew he was attractive, and that confidence was what Jimin first noticed. Though, at the time, he thought he was a presumptuous jerk, albeit a beautiful one. He had approached Jimin at a bar, while hanging out with his friends one night during their weekly attempt to blow off steam in one of the few safe parts of town.

It was a noisy, dark club, with the kind of sexy, cool clientele that seemed to always have a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Jungkook was no exception. Jimin had been eyeballing him from across the room long before Jungkook had approached him.

He had tousled black hair that was shorn short on the sides above his ears and longer in the back. Clad in a black leather jacket and an all black ensemble that fit his body in ways that made Jimin drool, his heavily tattooed hand holding an unlit cigarette idly while he leaned against the bar ordering a drink. But he wasn’t alone. His two friends stood off to the side, talking to each other animatedly in between sipping their drinks.

They all looked so handsome, and extremely cool. It almost made Jimin jealous.

Jimin hadn’t realized he was staring, but he most definitely was. Jungkook had turned his head slightly as if he felt Jimin’s eyes on his back, a small smile curling his lips. When the bartender returned with his drink he leaned forward across the bar, murmuring something inaudible to the man on the other side, who nodded and left again, coming back with a second drink.

He took his bounty from the bar and immediately locked eyes with Jimin. He wore a satisfied smirk on his gorgeous face as he sauntered the distance between them.

Jimin froze, embarrassed but unable to tear his eyes away from him, caught red handed. He never usually ogled strangers at the bar, and it was even less frequent that he was approached. Not that Jimin wasn’t attractive, on the contrary. He had visuals that most would kill for. But he was shy, and a bit socially awkward around people he didn’t know. Not to mention the fact that his day job usually involved a lot more gun wielding and dead things than most people were willing to deal with.

Jimin sucked in a breath, his eyes impossibly wide when he casually sat down next to Jimin, fixing his large round eyes in a narrowed sexy way on Jimin’s face.

He silently slid the extra drink over to Jimin and put his arm around the back of Jimin’s chair, leaning forward so he could be heard.

Jimin didn’t move and kept his face locked forward, almost afraid of the proximity of his body, but he could feel the stranger’s sweetly scented hot breath against his skin.

“I’m Jungkook,” He said into his ear, as if he was the answer to the greatest mystery Jimin had been pondering, which he kind of was. “Do you want to get to know each other a little better?” His words were dripping with suggestion.

It was incredibly sexy. Too sexy. It kind of pissed Jimin off how evocative he was, and how his nether regions seemed to twinge despite his better judgment. He silently scolded his extremely pent up, deprived sex drive, for daring to betray him at the first hot guy to whisper seductively into his ear in far too long.

Jimin was horny, sure, but he was not a slut. The implications purring from Jungkook’s sweet mouth made Jimin recoil despite himself.

He leaned into the feeling of annoyance, lest he instead give in to his extremely tantalizing suggestion and do something he would later feel dirty and used from.

Jimin turned to face Jungkook, trying to not get caught up in his pouty lips, and dark provocative eyes that seemed to want him.

“Uh, thanks for the drink,” he stammered, instantly feeling tongue tied and less confident in turning the attractive man down. “But, I’m good. I’m with my friends.”

He knew this guy was interested in sex, and not much else, and as titillating as a roll in the sack would be with this alluring stranger, he had to keep his wits about him. He had fuckboy written all over his face, and honestly the audacity to approach Jimin like that in the first place was a turn off.

But then why was Jimin squirming under his smoldering gaze, practically wetting his pants at the invitation?

It didn’t take long for the handsome presumptuous stranger to wear Jimin down. Before the night was through, Jimin was bent over a table in Jungkook’s modest kitchen, clothes forgotten somewhere in between there and the front door. Giving up on ever making it to the bedroom, Jimin took Jungkook’s hot thick cock from behind, in what would end up being the first of several locations and pornographic positions that fateful night.

It proved to be a night neither of them could forget, when Jungkook surprised Jimin by calling him, immediately after their rendezvous, unable to get the beautiful, bendy, plump lipped blonde out of his head.

Somehow Jimin fell into a relationship out of nowhere, and they hadn’t looked back since. That was over a year ago. They had somehow carved a little piece of the world out for themselves, with Jimin moving into Jungkook’s small house, joining his motley crew of pets and friends. Finding themselves intensely comfortable and content with each other.

Jungkook didn’t even bat an eyelash when Jimin confessed what he did for a living, paying his rent and student loans off with money he made from his zombie assassin side hustle. It wasn’t legal, mind you, but it paid the bills, and there wasn’t exactly a lot of honest work to be found these days. The economy was in the toilet, and jobs were scarce, but there was never a lack of zombies that needed disposing of.

He advertised mostly by word of mouth, but there were plenty of places that one could go when they were looking to make contact with someone who specialized in his services. He had deals with a handful of different underbelly organizations that kept the client's rolling in. There were other hunters, of course, but it wasn’t exactly a job people were clamoring to get so all he had to do was keep his rates fair to not have much competition in the market.

The government's stance on the zombie infestation was irritating. While they had made it illegal to dispose of zombies, they also had taken their hands off the steering wheel, allowing them to run amok. They were working on a cure, and while hell would likely be freezing over while everyone waited for that to happen, they had halted the mass killings by military enforcement and instead had taken a role of doling out safety guidelines and red tape for everyone to trip over.

All that meant was that people were expected to wear facemasks, wash their hands profusely, and avoid being eaten by the slow stupid animated corpses. It wasn’t too hard after all. But that didn’t mean that people weren’t still turning left and right, just simple stupidity ending their lives in a ugly mockery of what they once were.

Plenty of people were holding out that there was a cure on the horizon, but Jimin was there for those who were realists. Families who had agreed amongst themselves that if they were to ever turn, they didn’t want to be left to wander the streets or potentially infect their loved ones or others. Or people who had to live in fear while a neighbor housed their own infected family members, putting the safety of everyone in proximity in mortal danger.

When there was a zombie that needed taking out Jimin was there, no questions asked. For the low low price of 500$ a pop.

Of course, now he was wishing he had been smart enough to not kill a zombie when he wasn’t on the clock. Taking out his neighbors granny had been a dumb idea, it wasn’t exactly hard for his neighbor to figure out he had been the one responsible after all. Killing too close to home was his downfall.

Well, downfall was perhaps a bit dramatic, he was only going to be fined more likely than not. There was the potential for minor jail time but usually a couple of greased palms from his contacts could take care of the harsher sentences. There wasn’t a lot money couldn’t fix, not that he was swimming in it or anything. But he was owed a few favors, and he was cashing them all in to avoid jail. He was too pretty for jail, let’s be honest.

It didn’t stop him from being nervous though, he hated the formalities of court, the imposing harsh gaze of the judge, it was all too much pressure for him. Even a speeding ticket caused Jimin to break out in a sweat. He wasn’t sure what it was about authority figures but he hated them. They made him feel weak and helpless. Which he most definitely wasn’t.

Only one person was allowed to make him feel that way, and only in the bedroom, and that was Jungkook. Something about letting him hold him down, using his strength to pin him to the bed, or the wall, pressing his hard body against his smaller one, made him feel helpless in the most delicious way.

But give Jimin a gun, and you wouldn’t have to worry about his small frame or diminutive height any more. He was a crack shot, thanks to his stint in the military, his unit being stationed on the front lines. Jimin had been specifically trained in military weaponry and excelled quickly becoming a weapons specialist.

Jungkook was two years younger than Jimin, and had managed to avoid ever being conscripted thanks to the whole apocalypse thing, the war over North and South Korea being forgotten with the fate of the planet as a whole being on the line. It was quite a time to be alive.

While Jungkook was ever the macho man, good in a fight, and masculine in all the right ways, he had no idea how to use a gun. Given the opportunity to learn, he had turned his nose up at it much like the majority of gun fearing Korean’s of yester-year. But he was fine with Jimin taking up the helm, it was their give and take. Jimin felt safe on the arm of Jungkook around people, and Jungkook felt safe with Jimin around whatever else was lurking. He was glad Jungkook wasn’t the kind of guy to feel his masculinity being threatened because his smaller boyfriend was the one carrying the gun.

He really was a catch.

___

Later that evening, Jungkook was waiting in the parking lot of the court, car idling. Jimin spotted the silver car as soon as he set foot outside. His armpits were damp, and his hands were still clammy from the anxiety of his court hearing. One 500$ fine later, he was breathing shakily but a lot easier than before. The relief of seeing his boyfriend waiting for him patiently outside made him feel even better.

Jimin eyeballed the parking lot, sure enough, there was a zombie stumbling in the back of the lot, aimlessly walking and turning confused in circles. Not much of a threat. Which was good considering he obviously wasn’t packing at the moment. All the more reason for Jungkook to pick him up despite them not living far from the court house. Nothing made Jimin feel more vulnerable than not having his gun on him. He hurried to the waiting car, hating how nervous he was feeling.

Jungkook leaned across and threw the car door open as he approached. Jimin hopped in letting out a breath of relief. Jungkook reached back over Jimin’s lap and popped the glove box, Jimin’s 9mm glowing in the light from within.

“Awe, you’re too sweet.” Jimin said as if he had discovered a box of heart shaped chocolates.

“I know how you get when you don’t have at least one weapon on you.” Jungkook quipped, running his hand up his boyfriend’s leg.

Jimin smiled, tucking the gun into the waistband of his pants and settling back against the seat, appreciating the cold hard gun pressed there, a constant reminder that he could handle whatever happened.

Jungkook took in the sight of his slightly sweaty, nerve-wracked boyfriend. He had closed his eyes, his breath was shallow, through slightly parted lips. His neatly styled blonde hair was starting to ruffle, with a tendril or two falling into his eyes. His shirt was clinging to him, the button down damp and uncomfortable looking at this point. But he looked extremely sexy.

“How’d it go? From the looks of how sweaty you are… I’d say, good?”

Jimin chuckled, shaking his head, neither to agree or disagree. “500$ fine. It sucked. But I’ve lived to tell the tale, and I’ll be back to taking out zombie’s before you know it. But perhaps not our neighbors next time.”

Jungkook nodded, and squeezed Jimin’s thigh, “How about we get you home, and out of those clothes. Take a nice shower and have some dinner?” Jungkook offered, with an emphasis in his mind on getting Jimin out of those clingy clothes.

A steamy shower with his sexy boyfriend sounded like a great way to relax and forget about how annoying and stressful court was. Who was he to say no, “Yes, please.”

They plowed through the parking lot and on to the street, putting the courthouse and the odd lone zombie in the rearview.

___

Jimin was naked before he knew what was happening.

It started in the car, in between shifting gears, Jungkook was rubbing his thigh, all while never taking his eyes off the road. The only sign that he was getting as turned on as Jimin, was the way he was biting his lip ring, pushing his hand between Jimin’s spread thighs and rubbing deeply, grazing his stiffening cock with each movement.

Jungkook was eager to destress his poor boyfriend. Eager to get him home, so he could watch him melt into a puddle from pleasure only he could give him.

Jungkook kept the deep massaging of Jimin’s inner thigh up all the way until they parked the car. He was possessive, arms around Jimin as soon as he pulled him from the car, walking with him wrapped up inside them while Jimin fumbled with the keys to their house. Jungkook only made the job harder, while he pressed his crotch to Jimin’s ass and buried himself in the crook of Jimin’s neck nibbling and kissing his still damp flesh.

As soon as they were in the house, Jungkook stripped them both, tossing Jimin’s gun along with the rest of his clothes on the couch, kissing and tugging him towards their bathroom. They were barely able to navigate the house if not for the muscle memory, Jungkook was touching and kissing all the while.

Jimin was in a fit of giggles and little gasps as Jungkook hurried them to their destination, quickly running the shower and back to pulling Jimin in close to put his hands all over his naked flesh. It was all hungry touches, and kisses. Jungkook was paying special attention to Jimin’s earlobe, pulling at the silver hoop there with his teeth. It always sent shivers down Jimin’s spine when he put his mouth anywhere near his ears, reminding him of the first time they met, his warm sweet breath purring seductively against it.

The steam was starting to build in the small bathroom, indicating the shower was ready to melt Jimin’s cares away, not that Jungkook wasn’t doing a fabulous job of that already. He pulled Jimin in behind him, closing the curtain and letting the hot water drench their naked bodies.

Jimin let Jungkook do all the heavy lifting, just willing to be touched and let his hands work themselves across his body. Jungkook, took a shower puff and squeezed a vanilla body wash into it, working the lather across Jimin’s chest, following the sponge with his hand as he felt Jimin’s nipples harden under his touch. Down his soft smooth belly, lightly caressing his toned abs, appreciating the subtle ripple of muscle beneath his pale skin.

Jimin watched his hands move down his body, enjoying the way his boyfriend was so engrossed in the ritual. Jimin rested his arms loosely around Jungkook’s neck, draping them languidly and casually twirling the wet hair at the back of Jungkook’s head.

He was ever so appreciative of the attention his boyfriend was giving to his body that bordered on worship, Jimin smirked inwardly wondering exactly who was getting off on this more. Jungkook was rock hard after all, his eyes following his hand movements, like he was drinking in every inch of the soapy naked sight.

After Jimin had been perfectly lathered, Jungkook pressed his hard body against Jimin again, slickly moving his chest and abs against Jimin’s as he kissed him deeply, his hands grabbing fistfuls of Jimin’s tender soapy ass.

Jimin kissed back, loving the way his boyfriend’s soft lips felt, tasting the water of the shower beading down their faces with each flick of his tongue against Jungkook’s.

They hadn’t had shower sex in a while, but it seemed pretty evident that it was where they were headed. If the hands on Jimin’s ass, slipping between his cheeks and rubbing soapy circles around his hole, were anything to go by.

Jungkook swirled his tongue slowly in Jimin’s mouth, almost in sync with his movements against Jimin’s rim. The two sensations eliciting a low moan into Jungkook’s mouth. Jimin bit and tugged at Jungkook’s lip ring in approval.

Jungkook, slipped a wet finger into his hole, Jimin instantly mewled against his lips. The wet finger was dipping in and out slowly, knuckle deep. Soon, it was followed by a second finger, stretching and twisting to make room for himself inside.

Jimin was already weak in the knees, Jungkook knew exactly how to stretch him slowly, making his body ache without the burn of going too quickly. He was working him over with two fingers, scissoring wider at the tips til Jimin was blooming and softening like a flower opening to the sun.

With the introduction of a third finger, Jimin was panting, gripping Jungkook’s hair at the back, with Jungkook folding himself around Jimin, head over his shoulder watching himself as he pulled Jimin’s asscheeks apart so he could get a better visual of his tattooed fingers doing what they did best.

Jimin writhed under his fingers, holding onto Jungkook for dear life, twisting and pressing his aching dick against Jungkook’s upper thighs enjoying the slippery friction, feeling his equally hard cock press against his stomach. His ass was so full of Jungkook’s fingers, pushing slow and deep, pressing down against his prostate as he pumped them, giving Jimin a taste of the pleasure yet to come. The sweet pressure was building a fire inside his belly that was soon aching for more.

With one final stretch, Jungkook pulled out his fingers, and slapped Jimin on his wet ass, the sound cracking in the air. Jimin gasped, the mixed pleasure and pain from the sensation making him fall apart.

“Turn around.” Jungkook said bossily, his eyelashes were wet, his face dripping and hair a mess but he was oh so sexy when he got commanding.

Jimin instantly twisted around, and Jungkook took him by the wrists from behind and nudged him against the shower wall. The tile was still cold and wet, it sent a shiver through Jimin’s hot body. He took Jimin’s hands and pulled them up, placing them on either side above his head, folding his fingers through Jimin’s and molding himself to his boyfriend’s body.

Jimin immediately pushed his ass out, pressing it into Jungkook’s damp crotch, feeling his cock slipping between his asscheeks. Jungkook grinded against him, not entering him but sliding himself up and down against his ass with his dick nestled between his cheeks.

After some teasing, Jungkook finally released one of Jimin’s hands, “Don’t move.” He whispered into his ear.

Jimin obediently waited, feeling Jungkook pressing his cock against his pliable hole, rubbing it there at the entrance as if checking if it was going to let him in.

Jimin bit his lip in anticipation, his hole fluttering against the cock tip. That seemed to do the trick, Jungkook applied pressure, his hole immediately swallowing the cock head neatly, since he had already been so perfectly prepared for it. It didn’t stop Jimin from gasping at the sensation and sudden stretch.

Jimin moaned deeply, while Jungkook fell against him, burying himself immediately inside of his perfect pink hole.

Jungkook put all his weight into it, and Jimin was impossibly full. No matter how many times they had fucked over the last year he never got over the way Jungkook made him feel so utterly complete and whole when he was inside him.

“Uhhnnn, Jimin, baby. You always feel so fucking good on my cock.” Jungkook quietly purred, his lips close to his boyfriend’s ear. He wasn’t particularly loud during sex, that was usually Jimin’s role, but when he did he saved it for whispering lewdly against his neck just for Jimin to hear. It was Jimin’s biggest turn on. Hearing him breathily, quietly, coming undone just for him was like pornographic music to his ears.

Jungkook was thrusting deep, his thighs slapping against Jimin wetly. He kept his hands above his head, not daring to move but his knees were growing weaker by the second. His dick was throbbing untouched, and Jimin wasn’t sure if it was the water or his precum dripping blissfully from the swollen tip.

He had never been big on dirty talk before Jungkook, the idea had always made him giggle. He just couldn’t take someone saying stuff like that to him seriously. But when Jungkook pulled him by his hair, and praised how well he took his cock it nearly made Jimin cum. He never wanted him to stop. He couldn’t help the way he folded, responding in kind with sweet submissive agreement.

“Mmm, just for you.” He managed in between gasps of pleasure.

They were words he never could have imagined coming genuinely out of his mouth with any other man. Only Jungkook had ever made him feel so desired, so completely possessed. He was all his, his body was made for his pleasure.

Jungkook loved Jimin’s responsiveness, pushing his face against the shower wall firmly but gently, getting off on the way Jimin became his when he was inside of him. “All mine.” He grunted, grabbing Jimin’s hips and rocking himself harder against his ass.

He was hitting Jimin’s prostate with each thrust, pounding it mercilessly. The sounds of their bodies clashing were louder than the shower itself and only drowned out by the sound of Jimin’s moans, which were sharp and pointed with each hit of his sweet spot.

“Gunna cum.” He breathed weakly, his eyes screwed shut tight, letting the sensation of Jungkook’s hard grip on his hips and powerful rapid thrusts overtake him. The hot lightning rod of pleasure was hitting its peak.

Jungkook kept up the speed, but leaned forward again, wrapping his tattooed arms around Jimin’s chest tightly, holding him close and hard, shallow, fast pumping as he climbed toward his own orgasm.

“Cum on my cock baby, show me how good I make you feel.”

That was a request Jimin could most definitely fulfill, with Jungkook’s cock buried to the hilt and his breath against his neck Jimin was spiraling over the edge. Jungkook’s arms held him up as he nearly fell to the shower floor, fucking into him as his orgasm was purged from within, spilling rope after rope of cum beneath him.

His walls were clenched hard and tight against Jungkook who continued to pound Jimin. He couldn’t even feel his feet on the floor anymore, his orgasm still hitting him like crashing waves, moans and sounds he wasn’t even registering were flowing from his lips.

Jungkook’s orgasm was close behind a few short hard thrusts later with an intense guttural groan, keeping himself deep within Jimin’s hole. He was panting hard, riding out the sensation overload with a deep grinding roll of his hips, seemingly never wanting to part from Jimin’s body.

As if cured from some kind of sex poison, Jungkook grinned, his voice breathy but returning to normal, “Feel better now?”

Jimin couldn’t stifle the laugh, Jungkook was still buried in his ass, and he was being cute. “Much.” He managed finally finding the strength to stand again. Jungkook buried his wet face against Jimin’s neck and kissed him repeatedly, “Good.” He murmured against his skin.

When they had finished up in the shower, Jimin felt like an overcooked noodle. Soft and pliable. Jungkook wrapped him up in a huge fluffy towel, and carried him to their bed like a bride, eliciting giggles from Jimin. He was impossibly relaxed, in a way only Jungkook seemed to make him. Content, blissful and sleepy. Jungkook snuggled against his burrito wrapped boyfriend until they both fell asleep, forgetting dinner, and zombies, court and the whole world all together.

____

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caffeinelemur · 9 months

Note

ur tag about being picky ruining vacations rings so true. i remember going on a trip with my best friend and he took me to an italian restaurant (pasta is my safe food) and because i couldnt make it myself i had to sit there with his whole family eating and me with nothing and they all questioned it so fucking awkward 😭

Yeah my stepdad has this crusade against my “eating habits” that’s grown in intensity and stupidity since I was like eight. At first it was something between eating with the family/making me eat healthy/vegetables? (Was forced to eat food I didn’t like for several years + has a strong gag reflex + literally cannot eat things I don’t like, why would you do that) Or something, but then it also became fights during trips bc I just wanted my safety/favorite and he wanted to eat at some random fucking place in a different state that doesn’t serve food I eat anyway, and then I got Diagnoses™️ and he decided I made all of them up and lied to my doctor to get idk what attention and meds? and when we told him my doctor diagnosed most of that without me prompting it he was like it’s bc nutrition like bitch I don’t think my samefood gave me bipolar.

Anyway, we barely go anywhere and whenever we do I can’t even get excited bc I’m just like. We’re gonna fight about food the entire time and eventually I’ll just tell them to go do whatever they want and I’ll not eat anything for lunch and stay in the car bc I’m tired and overwhelmed and take a car nap with my noise cancelling headphones on loud music playing all I wanted was to spend like seven to eleven dollars to eat a decent amount of food and get a big ass drink but no now we’re doing this. You can still go you your fucking choice I’m not making you eat my food leave me in the car with a ridiculous fast food order a huge soda and music and fuck off to your own food adventure I’ll be dandy, but no. (My spectrum in a different flavor mother tries her best to get me fed somehow and is probably the only one between the three of us keeping me alive, and all she gets is anxiety. Sorry mom.)

Also somewhere right before high school I gained a fun new eating disorder and between that and my always reliable forgetting-to-eat I kept dipping below into underweight, so my doctor told me not to worry about healthy vs junk or anything right then just try to focus on eating something even if it’s chips or whatever. I had a timer on my phone to remind me it was like 11 or 2 or smth maybe try a snack?? I brought a snack size bag of chips for lunch every day it’s all I could figure out. And mom heard this and was like ok, nightly McDonald’s runs aren’t a battle anymore bc she knew my cardinal rule of food is no matter what I can and will eat McDonald’s. Like even at my most ill can’t look at a cracker I can and will eat that hamburger and be fine. I got back up to barely technically but still healthy weight for a little while bc of it. Eat your samefood your doctor says it’s fine if anyone says otherwise throw a nearby object at them and run this is the moral of the story I think

In college I survived off fast food someone helped me get and vending machine payday bars. Like I can’t drive and I lost half my silverware in that move when I was seven so now I’m running on like three spoons max. I’m like a scrungly raccoon with opinions. Little garbage rat only takes pizza from that one place’s trash. Alley cat that is too tired to try anymore and keeps coming to your porch bc you gave me something out of pity once.

My things with my foods is I will have I Can Have This Specific Thing From This Specific Place, or I Like This Sort Of Food Generally But I Have Extreme Opinions About It. Sometimes they overlap. Examples: I mention McDonald’s. I only ever order the same thing. Very specific. It’s a Hamburger (I won’t go into detail). I can eat other hamburgers but Generally I don’t want to and have opinions about them. If you do it Correctly at home it’s fine. Other places I don’t really like. On the other hand, I Have Extreme Pizza Opinions but I have several places I’ll eat at that qualify. It’s one of the easiest of my samefoods probably to find in a pinch, we just do research and try. I really love pizza so maybe I’m more open to figuring it out than I am w hamburgers bc I’m not like I love hamburgers it’s I love specifically McDonald’s lol. I also have a samedrink and it’s Dr. Pepper, which sadly is bad for my long term health and I’ve had fights and lectures about this for eons as well, but it’s far too late now and I don’t give a shit.

#caff answers #caff rants #sorry about my ranty soapbox #apparently i had Things To Say #yeah my fucking food adventures #and now im trapped in a fast foodless hellscape with no energy to cook just eating fucking cereal #and my only joy of going into town and getting my Food is trashed bc Boycott and i dont want to be a bad person but also. id like to eat.#why is everyone on earth including mcdonalds trying to stop me eating mcdonalds please fucking stop i will cry #The History Of Caffs Food Induced Mental Breakdown #when your samefoods are fast food and work hard and ur all out of fast and work

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adulting-sucks · 2 years

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I’m not sorry to say this but Justin is such a disgusting piece of shit ass human, and I really do hope karma comes so hard for him and filler filled lips along with his racist, culture appropriating ass soulmate Alba. I happened to be on IG and saw his story 🤦🏾‍♀️. He reposted a reel of a puppy with edited hands of the peace sign & the heart signs 🫶🏾🫰🏾. But with music that sounds like K-pop in the background. He really is as obvious and stupid as his bestie. After all of the horrible things he’s said about the Asian community, taking traditional South East Asian dances or music and using them as a gag to laugh at, trying to play off that he’s so happy that the iconic Michelle Yeoh made history Sunday night and he’s some ally is load of bullshit. A tiger never changes their stripes. Just because his words were said 10 years ago doesn’t matter, it’s the fact he never made a sincere apology when it was brought to light and called out. He really said “if I said something or did something offensive” BITCH YOU DID. And it’s pretty clear he won’t change his ways, especially with that video we just saw yesterday of him and that stank mouth heffa using traditional music as a joke to poke fun a traditional dance (and can’t even execute it half way properly or at all) and laugh about it. They both gotta go it’s not even a game anymore.

He’s an absolute piece of garbage. He’s been trolling us Asians all fucking week and I am over it. He had the audacity to post Michelle Yeoh, and now this? That’s absolutely K-Pop, and 🫰is Asian too….started in Korea. I cannot wait until they fade away. The amount of people still defending this garbage. I Fucking have lost hope in humanity at this point. To openly ignore everything that has been said and done by this group is beyond disgusting. Fuck these people and fuck anyone who thinks this isn’t a big deal

#alba baptista is antisemitic #alba baptista is racist #Justin is a piece of shit #fuck Kiko #I hate them #alba baptista is racist and so are her best friends #alba baptista

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the-firebird69 · 2 months

Video

youtube

Freya Ridings - Castles (Official Video)

We started this project and now we're not doing anything I want this to out of here the mental misfits all morning long they're running around yelling stupid **** at people as if they know everything and he said what are the diamonds for now they gonna lower them and they said we don't know and then I'm done anything so what I said to them is if this little boy wins he kind of deserves it you have no class trump no reason for trying to run for office nothing we can find probably don't have a chance of getting in because we hear what they're doing it's really a setup they know what is still keep going and hit your head on the wall quite literally I'm saying it too you're insane you want everything for wisp for hair it never happens that way I've never ever seen it this boy worked his internal life very carefully when huge progress giant concepts he easily leaves you in the dust with just one of them well I'm trying to say is we're irritants on purpose by Lord of the Max and you won't change and do the job and we're not gonna make it. These next two weeks we just keep losing like we are yeah they're hiring all our enemies and making allies and friends and we're losing them most of them are out the door already I'm telling you I don't want you to continue bothering him you're a seedless fruit you're a junkie and you're running around embarrassing me and humiliating me and harming me and yeah we don't have the AI we keep saying we do I don't wanna keep doing this **** **** it's for idiots this dumb stuff we're doing. I don't know where you picked it up but it's really stupid I don't wanna be near you you gotta drag me into your stupid crap I'm gonna keep beating you up I don't care anymore we're going down the train if you can only hear what the saying about us out loud to our face just here at once it keeps saying you're a piece of garbage in your trash wife you don't even listen or look up to what you're saying keep saying someone else is having them do it try and say you're not known as a hero you're known as some mooch who set the stage I'm hearing you didn't even do that you noticed you're threatening him this is gonna suck so bad we don't have a role here y'all know about it as you who doesn't know Trump I'm so sick of being the stupid **** little **** you are

sarah

I'm trying stuff they have some kind of death lock on me they have one on you and you haven't noticed you're sitting here berating us and him too and he says yeah you're so you're the precursor precursor for mary then Hera And they're saying it about us and they're saying it about his people and then it's what they want to try and do. They are obtuse to it you need to learn that and stop making fun of everybody else a big group is kicking the crap out of them was it doing it to you too.

trump

Yeah there's a few things you don't know about like you don't believe they're doing it to you and you keep saying it no you're delusional a lot of people think you aresarah

And why should I believe you this big group's going after us. They go out for everybody and what's with me in particular I'll tell you what I ran around saying the sleepy hollow story they have evidence and that's what it is and I don't know it everybody else knows it because they grab them and ask them and they see it on their computer whatever you for whatever reason they're doing it using me possibly because I'm the way I am possibly because I'm and here we go OK so yeah you're probably righttrump

we dont know for sure no we are told by mac proper your an ass trump all see it now

saraah

we dont take them on direct ok no i dont see it

trump

Shut your **** mouth we explain to you every single day lette rby letter word by word what is your problem you're an idiot.

macs

we dsee it is you so we dont get it thats ll

trump

you dont. we show you then. you die soon should know it ok a say it too

this man is unresonable adn nasty to us and all te time and is poor

macs

Olympus you may print this yes

good

Her

#youtube

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knockyasocksoff2022 · 10 months

Text

More Than You Know || Soukoku

Chapter One: Nakahara VS Mori (2,553 words)

(A/N: For this context, Dazai’s surname is Mori so Chuuya calls him Mori and calls Ougai, Mr. Mori/Mori-san)

Chuuya's Perspective:

I’m the only one here and the courtyard is still quiet, the only sounds are the birds chirping, the creaking of the gate, and the swishing of the trees that hide Kafka Academy from the gritty rest of Yokohama.

I like it this way, here I can actually study, which I suppose is the point of my enrollment here, at any rate, it’s better than home. I know Kuoyou tries her best but ever since our parents died in a lab accident, and my brother ran off to France, it’s been hard.

Kuoyou is in university and works as a secretary at Yokohama Port Corporation, and I studied my ass off for this scholarship.

My head flicks up from my maths textbook when I hear the gate opening. It piques my interest until I recognise the car. I curse myself for letting myself get distracted on this particularly difficult problem. Still, I can’t look away. The car is a limousine, pretty standard for the types of kids here, but this car has the Mori family crest on the grill.

Mori Ougai is the CEO of Yokohama Port Corporation, his son Mori Osamu goes here and we have all our classes together. Unfortunately for me, he’s an annoying little shit. But, fortunately for me, he’s usually only here just before the bell rings.

He steps out of the car, says something to the driver, and then to my horror starts marching right up to me, swinging his hips like some kind of model. Rich, spoilt brat!

When he reaches me he glances down at my textbook and then says “The answer to that one is 3,459.”

I should be used to it by now but I’m not, “What!”

“You were close though.”

His words snap me out of my shock, how dare he patronise me? “Don’t tell me the answer, then I won’t learn!” It feels stupid after I’ve said it.

“I’m just telling you the answer, not telling you how to get to it. Besides, even if I did, it’s not like the teacher checks the textbooks anyway.” he looks genuinely confused at why I would actually want to do more work and it makes me want to punch him.

“Well, some of us actually care if people think we’re lazy and spoilt. You know, some of us aren’t born arrogant geniuses, and I actually want to learn. Go flirt with the garbage bin, or whatever it is that makes you late every day.”

I expect him to tease me back but instead, he sits down beside me and stares at the maths book. “Yes, you’re a very passionate dedicated student, and person in general, so willing to try everything and do it with all of your heart, it’s what makes you so admirable.”

I can tell he’s talking to me but his words don’t make a shred of sense, “What the hell!? Stop that, are you high?”

He only laughs, “No, I’m flirting with garbage, just like you told me to.”

I can feel the heat rising in my chest and my blood pulsing in my ears, my capabilities of rational thought disappearing as the anger takes over “Oh, really? Ya’ know what? . . .”

The punch lands squarely on his left eye and he falls to the ground, not dramatically, he just falls with an empty-sounding thud, I expect him to spring up but he just stays there, after a few seconds he’s still motionless.

As I walk away I realise it’s the first time I’ve really hit him like that, with all of my power, and intention to hurt. I mean I’ve hit him loads of times before but this feels different, for one thing, he didn’t hit back, even if just to play the victim. Shit! I wonder if he’ll tell. I’ve always been so careful with my temper, of course, this bastard is the one who made me mess up. I could get kicked out and lose my scholarship for this.

I look around, but nobody’s there yet, except the driver. I wonder distantly why he didn’t leave, but more importantly, if he’ll report this to Mori-san.

Pushing down all of my pride in favour of saving my reputation, I plaster the best sad expression on my face that I possibly can and walk back towards the boy on the ground.

He’s still on the ground and completely still, should I say something? I hate that I’m actually worried about this when I should be worried about the beating Kuoyou’s gonna give me for this. But what if I actually hurt him, I’ll definitely lose my scholarship for this.

Panic starts to rise in my chest, and I fight to maintain my usual teasing tone, “Come on you lazy bastard, get up.”

He makes no move, I nudge him with my foot, and try to bait him into getting back up and arguing with me, “Did I knock you down that easily? Wow, so it was really this easy huh? I should’ve done this a long time ago.”

Finally, he stirs. I expect him to make some big announcement about how hearing my annoying voice brought him back from the dead but instead, he just mumbles something into the quiet morning air.

Because I know the driver is watching I extend my hand, and to my surprise he actually takes it. I bring him to his feet and he lets go of me immediately, probably disgusted to be touching someone who doesn’t live in the fanciest part of the city.

He walks away, not towards the school, but back to the car. Is he ditching? Just because I punched him? Whatever, what do I care?

I watch nervously as the driver says something to him, looking at me like I’m a bomb that could go off at any second. I would make a crack about how I didn’t know rich people spoke to their help but I can’t afford to make this any worse. Mori answers the driver and gets back into the car.

It pulls out of the gate the same way as it came in, and then he’s gone.

After he’s gone the worry settles in my chest. Of course, he left, he’s probably going to tell his dad that I ‘mortally wounded’ him, and then they’ll sue the hell out of us.

I try to go back to my maths to distract myself but I can’t focus so I just stare off into space.

—

Eventually a hand waves in front of my face, for a second I think it’s one of the Mori family’s goons come to arrest me but then I realise that the hand is covered in bandages.

“Wha-”

It’s Mori. He must have scraped his hand when he fell, but I didn’t see any scrapes so he’s probably faking for attention. “Hey, Chibi! Did you finally figure it out?”

“Figure what out?” it comes out in the aggressive tone I usually use with him but I try to soften it on the slim chance he’s still making up his mind and hasn’t told on me yet. His fringe is over his face, particularly his left eye, my punch definitely left a bruise.

“The maths problem, of course. I’d offer to help you, but you seem to be in a handsy mood this morning and I’m afraid I’m not really looking for that right now.” The way he phrases it makes it sound like I did something . . . sexual.

“It wasn’t fucking “handsy” I fucking punched you, you perv!” So much for being gentle, “And I don’t need your fucking help!”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs in the way he does that says ‘Whatever, I’m so superior anyways.’ and walks back toward the school.

The bell rings and I grab my maths book and head to my locker.

When I arrive in the English classroom Mori is already there, in the seat next to mine. Well, we don’t have assigned seats but I always sit there, and he knows it.

“What d-” I remember I’m supposed to be sucking up, for the sake of my scholarship. My tongue burns with all the words I want to throw at him right now but instead, I say, “Do you need something?” with as little aggression as I can possibly manage.

He looks at me for a long moment and then blinks, “You may speak normally, Nakahara-san.” The sudden formality is clearly him mocking me but it sounds right on him, fitting, like this is how someone like him should talk, not throwing kid-ish insults every chance he gets. I’ve never heard him talk like this before, almost like he’s pulling rank on me, but not like he usually does, shoving me and calling me a dog. At the same time, the elegance sounds weird coming from him, despite his aristocratic status, the words are like a suit that doesn’t quite fit. I’m used to him teasing me like a child, and it makes me realise how stiff it must sound coming from me. That was probably his intention.

It’s true it would seem hella suspicious if I all of a sudden started being sweet to him, I’ll have to try to find a balance. “Well, what do you want?”

“Nothing, I’m just sitting here, we still have free seating you know.”

I take a breath not trusting myself to forcefully relocate him to another seat by throwing him across the room. “Yeah well, just don’t bother me okay?”

He gasps dramatically, throwing a hand over his chest, “Of course not!”

The relief is immediate, to be honest it was actually kinda creepy hearing him talk like some fancy businessman.

English goes well, and true to his word Osamu doesn’t bother me once, not even to correct the mistakes I’m sure I must be making. It’s relaxing.

But, as soon as I step out of the classroom door, he’s beside me. “You didn’t make nearly as many mistakes as usual, Nakahara-san, have you been studying more?”

I can tell he’s still teasing me about being stiff earlier. “No, It’s because you weren’t bothering me the entire class. If you keep this up I’ll kick your ass out of that top spot!” I almost regret saying that, god forbid I give him more incentive to pester me. As if anyone could ever touch his ranking.

“As if, Chibi can’t even reach that high.” he echoes my thoughts and I can’t help but laugh just because it’s so true that I can even forgive the height jab. I shake my head and head to my locker.

The next class is maths, just before I enter the room someone catches my shoulder. I turn. It’s a tall blond boy with glasses, he holds a green notebook with the word “Ideals” written neatly on the cover in fancy script. I think his name is Kumiya or something like that.

He looks concerned and whispers as he speaks, “What did you say to Mori-san in the corridor, he looked like he’d just seen a ghost?”

“Huh, what’d ya mean?”

“I have English with you and right after you walked away he looked like he might faint.”

The boy’s words confuse me, and I have seriously no idea what I could’ve said to shock him so much. “He must have realised he forgot to turn his oven off or something.”

Shaking off the strange encounter I head into the class

In maths, we do have assignment seats, and Mori’s is right next to mine. It’s hell. He’s always holding his stupid IQ over my head.

When the professor releases us to do work he does his work with ease, finishing before me and the rest of the class. But that’s not enough, no, then he turns to me and scans my paper.

He frowns, “You’re still doing it wrong. I can help you if you like.”

“No, I don’t need your help.”

“But, you clearly don’t know how to do it?”

“You think I don’t know that you smug asshole!”

“Well, if you know you’re not doing it correctly then, why–”

The argument goes on until the work timer goes off, scaring the ever-loving shit out of me and making me fall out of my seat. I mutter a curse. And gather my worksheets, releasing rather belatedly that most of them are less than half done.

To my horror the teacher is walking down rows, he isn’t collecting the paper but I see that he’s checking it, I take out my maths book and pretend to be consulting the text. I glance over and see that Mori has his book out too and is dutifully “checking his work”. Of course, he’s done nothing wrong.

Professor Tsushimura approaches us and looks disapprovingly down at my mostly blank papers.

“Is there a reason, Nakahara-san, that your work has gone undone?”

I look over at Mori, the smug bastard.

“Yes sir actually, Mori-san wouldn’t stop bothering me. He repeatedly took my materials and refused to return them.”

At this accusation, Mori looks up but directs his gaze back down before the professor notices.

“Ah, I see. Well, seeing as you’re such a hard worker Nakahara-san I’ll let you off with a warning, and I’ll be moving your seat, come see me when you get to class tomorrow for your new seating assignment. And Mori-san,” the boy looks up looking innocent, “while I did not witness your transgressions myself I’m sure you will be fine with another person next to you and cleaning the blackboard and desks during your free period today.”

“Of course, professor.” Mori just nods making no effort to deny my mostly false claims. I’ll admit I expected him to come after me and the fact that he didn’t startles me and leaves an almost uneasy feeling in my stomach. He must be planning his revenge. I hope that maybe he just wanted to suck up, but I know that isn’t true.

The professor nods, pats me on the and heads back to his desk, dismissing the class just as the bell rings.

I cram the worksheets hurriedly into my bag and head off to the library to complete them.

By the end of the free hour, the concept starts to make sense. I think I’ll be able to finish them at home.

The next class is Science.

I sit next to Mori in this class too, it’s because we have M and N surnames and the seating chart is alphabetised. When I sit down Mori looks away.

He doesn’t look at me for the rest of science.

I ignore his eerie silence as best as I can and focus on my worksheet. The work is easy because we have a substitute teacher (Some old guy with a monocle) so I finish quickly. I want to work on my maths a bit more but when I finish I find myself turning to look at Mori. He’s on his phone, playing one of those mindless candy-crush-type games.

Soon my maths is abandoned as I watch him engrossed in something on his phone, he almost looks like a normal kid.

Before I know it the bell is ringing and I curse myself once again allowing Mori to distract me.

In History the same thing happens, it’s kind of creeping me out and I know whatever he must have planned is going to make my life hell.

But by Physical Education, our last class of the day nothing has happened.

Maybe he just decided to stop wasting his time on a peasant or something but either way, I’ll keep my guard up.

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attemptinghaikyuu · 3 years

Text

Joking About Dating A Friend But They Take You Seriously

A/n: I feel like this aligns with my love for fake dating scenarios, it was also just as fun to write as those scenarios

G/n reader

Pretty setter squad (most of them~)

Akaashi Keiji

He freezes on the spot, turning and looking at the smile adorning your face as you look up at your friend. “Boyfriend.” he corrects himself

Maybe it’s stupid but he wishes he had at least been able to tell you his feelings before he knew it was hopeless. If he’d confessed he could have at least known there was nothing he could do right now. Akaashi’s walking away from the two of you as soon as he can. He’s having a hard time not crying after finding out

The next day when you try to talk to him he’s ignoring you. If you’re persistent, he’s still speaking as little as possible

You can tell somethings putting him in a sour mood, so you back off and give him some space, but it hurts being ignored by your crush…

When you talk to Bokuto later and you mention your friend, imagine your surprise when the ace asks “you mean the one you’re dating?”

“What are yo- oh!” You start laughing at that and explain that your friend and you had only been messing around

THE MOMENT BOKUTO TELLS HIM-

He’s sprinting to tell you how he feels and is in literal tears, when you say you feel the same way

Akaashi is going to be such a caring and considerate boyfriend, though he’s also going to be very clingy whenever you’re around that friend… not that you mind <3

Kenma Kozume

He hears it and freezes and at first, his brain doesn’t want to process what he heard

But as soon as it sinks in, he’s shoving his face in his game screen and trying to pretend that it doesn’t matter

He won’t straight up ignore you, but it’s obvious he’s distancing himself from your friendship. Short answers to any questions you ask, zero eye contact, and it’s like he’s shrinking in on himself whenever you’re around

Obviously this upsets you as much as him, and in response you end up hanging around your “girlfriend” more

Kenma sees you hangout with your friend more and only ends up feeling like he’s fully lost you :(

Kuroo being the observant, kind friend that he is, decides he’s going to give the person who played with his friends heart some very special words

He finds your club room and listening into you’re conversation, discovers you trying to figure out what you should do about your crush on Kenma, when it seems like he doesn’t even want you around

He hears your friend say “well sweetie, maybe you need to just tell him~”

It clicks with Kuroo pretty fast that this is a misunderstanding; the teasing tilt to your friends voice and the fact that you literally just said you liked Kenma?

Kenma ends up almost not confessing when he finds out, he feels like a jerk for acting the way he did

But after some convincing from Kuroo, Kenma grabs your hand and squeezing his eyes shut, with his head down, tells you he likes you

Biggest blush when you tell him you like him back, and if it’s possible, gets more flustered when you ask him if this means your dating and tells you yes

Kuroo’s so proud, he takes credit for getting you two together whenever he can

Oikawa Toruu

He’s like “no… because I like them… so they can’t date.. someone else..”

It hurts

It really hurts, and all he wants to do is run up to you and tell you he is so much better then them

But he barely even knows your friend and how could he possibly say that if you’re smiling and laughing, poking the sides of the person who’s making you happy

Oikawa is forcing a happy smile on his face, walking over, and congratulating you and your partner

Except you’re laughing harder when he tells you how lucky you are to be dating someone who makes you so happy

And he can feel his insecurities bubbling up inside him, all while his confusion for your continued laughter grows

But then he here’s your next words

“I- no offense,” you’re barely holding it together when you glance at your friend. “But I’d never date you-”

Hearing these words, which you somehow managed to wheeze out, Oikawa almost falls to his knees to thank whatever god out there for being on his side

His mood has done a complete 180 and as smoothly as he can, is asking you out he’s going for it right now after that heart attack

Is absolutely so smug about you saying yes, and will be parading your relationship around that friend (they’re either really confused or find it really amusing how your boyfriend could be worried about them trying something)

He’s just really happy though, okay? Please, he’s in so deep, he’ll stop being so obnoxious around that friend if you ask

Sugawara Koushi

He can’t breathe for a moment. It’s like everything stops and all he can do is stare at you

The heartbreak he feels as he watches the scene in front of him is honestly too much to take

Suga just walks out

He can’t stay and watch that. He doesn’t want to cry in front of you and than burst out crying that he’s in love with you when you’re dating someone else

He wonders if he’ll be able to face you again, especially when he’s breaking down over just hearing the news of you dating some other friend

Nearly doesn’t hear you shouting his name as you run after him

Only stops when he feels your hand on his shoulder and sees your concerned face come into his line of sight

Try’s to hide his tear stained face by turning away but it’s too late

“Koushi, whats wrong?”

You sound so worried and now he feels like a garbage friend, of course your gonna be freaked out after he runs out and ignores you telling him you’re dating someone

“Sorry, you just surprised me… I didn’t realize how emotional I would get finding out my friend was dating someone,” he has to pause to take a deep breath. “I’m really happy for you though.”

He’s trying so hard and you kinda realize what’s going on

“Sorry to burst your happy bubble then,” you chuckle, grabbing his hands. “But I was just joking around with them, I actually like someone else. Umm, he’s really cute and considerate, and worrying me a bit… I just hope he’s okay though.” Saying this, you pull one hand away to wipe the fresh tears falling from Suga’s eyes

Disbelief filling him, he can only stare at your embarrassed state and wonder how you can make him feel so much

It takes awhile, but with a watery laugh he confesses his feelings and asks if you’d take him as your boyfriend

He’s never gonna stop telling you and anyone who’ll listen, how lucky he is :,)

Atsumu Miya

Is shocked when he hears you say that you and your boyfriend are gonna go on a date later

He doesn’t take the time to process your joking tone

Is steering clear of you and if he does see you? He’s turning the other way without a word

Atsumu has a lot of pride, and he was not going to let you see him in this vulnerable state

He feels guilty about his avoidance when he sees the confused and hurt look on your face as he ignores you trying to talk to him

It’s like at every turn you’re their to make him feel worse about what he’s doing, and when he notices a lack of you he realizes you must’ve stopped trying to talk to him

You giving him space leads to Atsumu feeling worse about it

Him and you dating had seemed so inevitable to him, so he can’t help but feel cheated

And he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do, get over his feelings? Is that what would fix things?

He really misses you, it’s been two weeks and he’s a mess

Samu knows his brother is stupid sometimes, so he tells him to talk to you… and that he’s a dumb ass who misinterpreted the whole situation

He’s so mad for depriving himself of time with you

At this point he could care less if he’s dating you, he was bound to stop and find a way to make peace with just being your friend anyway

But that doesn’t mean he isn’t confessing right after Samu tells him of his mistake

And Atsumu knows he’s never gonna take you for granted after what he just went through

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spoopylay · 3 years

Text

|wait what!| Bakugo x fem!plus size reader

Summary: Bakugo has had his eye on you since the 1st year. He wants now more than ever.

Includes: fingering, vaginal sex, hair pulling, a bit of degradation, protected sex

A/n: sorry if there are any mistakes. I didn’t really know what to put down because this is my first time writing smut, I’m still new to writing fanfics lol. Anyways, enjoy <3

It was a very hot day at UA high school and the third years have finished training for the day.

“Fuck, it’s so hot,” Bakugo complained.

“No shit Sherlock,” you said slapping the back of his head.

“YOU SHITHEAD! AT LEAST I STILL HAVE ENOUGH ENERGY LEFT TO BLOW YOUR ASS UP,” he said running after you.

“I’d like to see you try,” you said running back to the dorms while laughing.

You and Bakugo’s friendship was...interesting. You guys were always at each others necks, always trying to one up each other. Whether it was in training, on tests, or even seeing who get’s to school earlier, everything always had to turned into a competition. People are always confused on whether or not you two friends. It seems like you guys hate each other, but on the other hand don’t?

Your feelings for Bakugo all changed when he came back from a summer vacation trip with his parents in the second year. He got 10x hotter in such a short amount of time. You couldn’t stop blushing so much that you almost didn’t hangout with him that day. All the girls were fawning over him, but he never really cared. Fast forward a year later, and you still have a fat crush on him.

You got back to the dorm and immediately hit the shower. You got out, dried off and went to go change.

“Y/N!”

You turned around to see Mina standing there, eager to ask you a question.

“What are you doing tonight,” she asked.

“Nothing much, why?”

“Well I was thinking that you, me and the girls could all have a sleepover at Momo’s dorm.”

“That sounds fun. Let’s do it!”

“Yay! See you later bestie.”

“See ya!”

You went back to getting dressed and took off your towel.

Meanwhile in the boy’s locker room, Bakugo was still replaying the image in his head if you running. Those thighs, that ass, they were driving him crazy. He just so happened to have gotten hard after he thought about it so he had to quickly leave so he can take care of the issue.

See something that you didn’t know was that Bakugo has had a crush on you since the first year. When he saw you walk into the classroom for the first time, it was game over. Your uniform made your chest look bigger and outlined your thick waist very well. Not to mention that the thigh high socks made your thighs look softer because it kind of pinched your thighs at the top. He was in love, but couldn’t show it because he didn’t want to look weak.

Some time goes by and you and the other girls are in Momo’s dorm.

“So y/n. Have you been crushing on anyone lately, hmmm?” Mina said while painting your nails.

“Umm, not really,” you replied stuttering.

“You’re lying y/n! You usually stutter when you lie,” Momo said.

“Fine you caught me. It’s Bakugo.”

The room went silent, until all of a sudden a whole bunch a squeals filled up that room.

“OMG YOU TWO WOULD LOOK SO CUTE TOGETHER,” said Uraraka.

“YOU GUYS ARE PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER,” said Hagakure.

“Maybe you should go see if he’s busy right now so you can tell him,” Tsuyu suggested.

“I don’t even know if he likes me,” you said.

“C’mon let’s go,” Mina said pulling your arm.

“What where?”

“To Bakugos, duh.”

Before you could even say anything, you guys were already walking to his dorm and the other girls were following along.

“Guys I don’t think-,” before you could finish Mina knocked on the door for you.

“Y’all better have some beautiful babies in the future,” Mina said with a wink before sprinting off with the rest.

You were very nervous and before you even thought of leaving Bakugo opened the door.

“Yes dumbass,” he said.

“Uhh hey, just want to see if you were bored or something,”

“So you came all the way down to my dorm...to ask me that?”

“Yep. Pretty much.”

“Whatever. Come in.”

You went inside and turned around to see that he had already took his shirt off. His toned abs and pecs were about to make you lose your marbles.

“What? It’s hot in here,” he said with a smirk. He knew you were staring and he was enjoying teasing you without having to really do anything.

“Huh, what? Oh yeah it is heh.”

A couple of minutes go by and you two start talking and laughing. You get up to go get something and accidentally fall, landing on top a bakugo, inches away from kissing him.

You being stupid blurted out that you liked him and immediately regret it.

You got up but Bakugo pulled you back and kissed you hard. You guys continued to make out and next thing you know you were taking your sweater off.

“Y/n, you’re so hot,” he said taking off your shorts.

You were now in your bra and underwear and Bakugo couldn’t handle how sexy you looked and pushed you onto the mattress and got on top.

“Trust me baby, this will be the best night of your life,” he whispered in your ear.

He started kissing and sucking on your neck, leaving marks.

He then made his way down to your pussy and took off your underwear.

He gave you a kiss and started pushing his large, rough fingers into your tight hole so it could fit his large cock.

You moaned as you put your head back. You could feel yourself close to cumming, but that’s when Bakugo stopped.

“Sorry babe, but I want your first orgasm to be because of my dick,” he said pulling out his hard cock and slipping a condom on.

You looked at it for a second and told him that it won’t fit. But he chuckled and said, “I’ll make it fit.”

He then spread your thick thighs apart and put them around his waist. He then started thrusting into you as gentle as possible but even then it felt like he was mercilessly pounding into you. You couldn’t but loudly moan Bakugo’s name from all of the pleasure from his cock.

“That’s right. Am I making you feel good babe,” asked as he started rubbing your clit.

“Yes, yes you are,” you said moaning again.

You could feel yourself coming onto your high. You let out another moan as your back arched and you came onto his dick. But you weren’t done, you needed it again. Good thing Bakugo wasn’t done either.

He flipped you so your ass would be facing up and you face would be buried into his mattress.

He then started mercilessly fucking your poor, sensitive pussy until you couldn’t even think straight, all you could do was moan and shake your head.

He gave your full ass a hard smack that left a mark and you let out a loud moan and started gushing all over his dick.

“Who knew innocent y/n likes to be turned into a fucking whore,” he said continuing to pound into you.

“Do you like when I call you a whore y/n,” he said pulling your head up by your hair. You nodded.

“Good girl,” he said dropping your head back but still had his grip on the back of your head.

He continued until he finally came. He slipped off the condom, tied it, and threw it into the garbage can.

You collapsed onto your stomach because of how tired you were.

Bakugo gave you a bottle of water after you got cleaned up. You two agreed that you would sleep over at his dorm for the night.

“You know a had a crush on you since the 1st year y/n,” he said turning into his side.

“Wait what,” you said.

“Yep, ever since I saw you I’ve always wanted to be with you, romantically.”

“Well, why not make it a thing now,” you said holding his hand.

“I would really like that,” he said putting your head onto his chest.

The two of you then fell asleep and were excited to flex on everyone about how much of an amazing couple you two are.

#plus size reader #mha x plus size reader #bnha x plus size reader #bakugo x plus size reader #bnha x chubby reader #chubby reader #mha x chubby reader #bnha smut #smut #mha smut #bakugo smut #katsuki bakugo smut #bnha x female reader #mha x female reader #fem!reader

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nightowlfandom · 3 years

Text

CEO! Min Yoongi- My Favorite Secretary

Why hello there!

ANON ASKS

Hi! Want to make a nasty petition pls. I want CEO Yoongi but he is so mean and strict with y/n he discharges all his frustrations and stress on her until he gets to fuck with her. I want a hard smut plsss

With these :

3, 15, 21, 60, 66

OOOOH FUN!!! LET’S GET INTO IT I was not too proud of this one...but here you go! Yo this one was LOOONNGGG, like shit.

3- I said FUCKING BEG!

15- Whose gonna stop us? I own this fucking place, baby.

21- That’s right, you fucking worship me don’t you? Look up at me like I’m your god.

60- I found that little journal you made about me. I think it’s so cute how you fantasize about me, darling.

66- I’m gonna corrupt your mind. I love to play with you like you’re a fucking violin.

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!!

leggo!!

... (Monday)

“You’ll have to redo these reports.” a stack of papers was thrown onto your desk. You stared up at your boss in disbelief.

“And just what’s wrong with them?” you raised an eyebrow.

“There are exactly 15 typos in these reports and since I don’t care enough to go through them with you, I want them redone.”

Min Fucking Yoongi. CEO of Bangtan Enterprises. You of course were a humble secretary who wrote reports on every idol and client that walked through the damn door.

“I spent hours on those!” you tried to defend. “I already deleted the stupid file to save space on my computer!”

“You have until the end of the week.” he walked away without another word.

“Sora didn’t even turn in her reports because she stayed up playing fucking Doki Doki Handsome Husband Haven and you gave her an extension!”

Yoongi didn’t respond as he turned the corner.

“Are you fucking kidding me.” you seethed.

... (Thursday Afternoon)

“Y/N!” you heard the horribly scary voice.

“What now?” you whimpered. You turned around in your chair to see your boss fuming. “Yes, Mr. Min?”

“YOUR REPORTS ON MY CLIENT ARE LATE!”

“No they aren’t! They aren’t due for another three days!” you tried to defend. Everyone else was starting to stare. They all knew how they treated you and they all felt super bad that he chose you to bully.

“I SENT AN EMAIL YESTERDAY SAYING I WANTED IT TODAY AT 10:00 IT’S NOW 2:00!”

“No you didn’t! I would have seen it-” you tried to speak.

“YOU HAVE TWENTY MINUTES TO HAVE IT DONE OR YOU CAN SAY GOODBYE TO YOUR JOB.”

“Y/N, don’t cry...you’re doing that thing you do when you’re about to cry.” your friend came over to your side. “Don’t waste your tears on that asshole.”

You inhaled dramatically, starting to type furiously through your blurry vision. You felt the tear slip down your cheek and you went to furiously wipe it.

...(Lunchtime: Thursday Afternoon)

Sobbing in the bathroom was a thing right?

Your two friends, Dahyun and Sana stood outside the bathroom stall as you sobbed into your hands. They were convincing you to not quit.

“Y/N, You know this is the only job that will let you live comfortably in this city. Other than being a teacher...and who’d want that?” Sana shuddered. “He’s done this more than TWICE now.” (...I’M NOT SORRY)

“I HATE HIM! I FUCKING HATE HIM.” You cried. “WHY IS HE ALWAYS MEAN TO ME!” You furiously wiped your eyes.

“Y/N, Open the door.” Dahyun sighed. “Let us in.”

The stall door slowly open and your two friends were met by a totally distraught woman. Your hands were stained with your eyeliner that you hand managed to completely wipe off leaving your tired face.

“Y/N, he’s working you to the bone. You don’t even smile anymore.” Sana kneeled in front of you, taking your dirty hands into hers. “Why do you let him bully you?”

“Because if I don’t, I won’t have a job.” you sniffed.

“Is someone dying in here?” you heard Miss. Hyuna, another boss walk in. “Aw honey, did a boyfriend break up with you...do you want me to ‘accidentally’ get his car towed?”

Miss Hyuna was both Sana’s and Dahyun’s boss, you guys just liked to have lunch together.

“It’s Mr. Min.” Dahyun spoke for you. “He’s working Y/N to the bone. He only ever bullies her and no one else. I’ve seen it personally.”

“Is that so?” she raised an eyebrow, looking less than happy. “Is that true Miss. L/N. Is Mr. Min treating you unfairly?”

You couldn’t speak, so you just nodded.

“All he does is yell at and belittle her every chance he gets.” Sana looked at Miss. Hyuna.

“Hm, I’ll go talk to him, right now. If he fires you, he’ll answer to me.” was all she said before she walked away. She ignored Sana trying to hold you back from stopping her.

Hyuna walked out of the bathroom with fire in her eyes. She walked by your desk only to see what looked like an open notebook with the words ‘The Min Yoongi Files’ written in permanent marker on the first page.

“This must be her case.” she shut the notebook, ignoring the childish looking anime stickers on the inside page. “I should take this for evidence, I hope she won’t mind.”

“Yoongi!” Hyuna stormed into his office, shutting the door behind her.

“Hey Hyuna, what’s up?” Yoongi looked up from his lunch. “What can I do for you?”

“What’s this I hear about you mistreating a worker? One of YOUR workers?”

“Pardon me?” he raised an eyebrow. “Mistreating?”

“Two of MY workers are busy consoling Y/N L/N in the ladies restroom on their lunch break of all times because according to all three of them, you’ve been unfairly treating her!!” she glared. She slammed the notebook down on his desk. “This should speak for itself.” she sighed.

“I don’t mistreat Y/N L/N, She’s insolent! She needs discipline.”

“SHE’S YOUNG.” Was Hyuna’s comeback. “You can’t treat her like she’s a piece of garbage just because she makes one typo!”

“Her typos cost us time.”

“So does your shameless reprimanding her for missing a semicolon.” she rebutted. “Think about it! Are men always this stupid.” she looked him up and down before walking out of his office.

Yoongi watched dumbfounded. He took at look at the notebook she left behind.

“Property of Y/N L/N.” he read aloud. He flipped it open to the first page to see a bunch of shiny and matte stickers all over the inside cover. “The Min Yoongi Files? Speak for itself, huh?” (read more below the break)

...

(The Next Morning) (Smut Warning)

You begrudgingly trudged into the office. Not only were you tired, but you were dreading. You had multiple deadlines.

“L/N, MY OFFICE.”

“Shit...” you seethed. You walked past your desk into Yoongi’s office. He was sitting at his desk, flipping through the pages of a very familiar looking book. “You wanted to see me sir?”

“Yes, I did.” he shut the book and slid it over to you. “Care to explain?”

“Holy fu- ” You had forgotten you left your diary on your desk. How did he get a hold of that?

“ I found that little journal you made about me. I think it’s so cute how you fantasize about me, darling. Hyuna gave it to me thinking it was a list of every terrible thing I’ve done to you. I didn’t know it would be a list of every terrible thing you wanted me to do to you.” his face spread into a smirk.

“You read my property-”

“My name is on it, which means it’s company property by association.” he was still smirking. “Y/N, Y/N Y/N...I didn’t know you were such a needy little girl. On my desk, in the breakroom? The elevator of all places?? I didn’t even know you enjoyed when I raised my voice.“ he raised an eyebrow. “You do realize I could have you fired for writing about me in such a way.”

“Yes sir.” you whimpered. “I’ll have all my sh-..stuff off my desk by-”

“Y/N what on earth are you talking about?” he raised an eyebrow. “Surely you don’t think you are fired.”

“I’m sorry?” you raised an eyebrow, becoming very confused.

“Even though I’m an asshole, a big jerk, and the bane of your existence, you still want me?” he raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you have more of a backbone than I thought. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to miss a chance to break that spirit of yours.” he rose to his feet and walked around his desk to face you. “Get over here.” he urged.

He grabbed you by the hand and yanked you to his chest. He crashed his hot mouth over yours, capturing you in a kiss. He held both sides of your face gingerly. In a shock, you held onto his blazer jacket to stop from falling over.

“Hmm.” he moaned.

“Mr. Min!” you gasped. “We can’t- I’m your secretary!! And I don’t know if you’re aware of this but you hate me.”

“ Whose gonna stop us? I own this fucking place, baby. “ he laughed manically. “And who the hell said I hated you? Plus you want this. I know you do because you wouldn’t have written about me throwing you on my desk and eating that little pussy...fuck that was my favorite story to date.” he spoke in a babyish voice. “Shit I’ve always loved what that ass does to me.”

You felt yourself melt in every way. The thought that someone would storm in didn’t even cross your mind. He back you up against the table, sitting you on the desk. Yoongi tore off his blazer and hastily undid his necktie.

He broke away from you, allowing you to suck in air. You took a deep breath as you felt your lips. He practically tore his shirt open, buttons flying everywhere to reveal that body. To say you were taken aback was the understatement of the century.

“ That’s right, you fucking worship me don’t you?” he smirked as you stared him down “ Look up at me like I’m your god” he quoted the exact words from the entry you had written just 5 days ago.

“Oh, you read the whole thing.” you squeaked. “I am so fucked.” you whimpered.

“I’ll be honest, I’ve been needing a good way to unleash my stress.” he shrugged. “This is perfect..” he motioned, tugging the hem of your shirt, playing with and unfastening each button. “I can take out my stress and you get to feel the real thing instead of writing shameless fan fiction.” he laughed. “Don’t make any mistakes,” he drank in your body. “I want this to be more than sex.”

Before you could say another word, Yoongi wrapped his arms around your waist again. He leaned down and softly kissed your lips. You just prayed he didn’t taste the bacon, egg, and, cream cheese bagel you ate this morning. You didn’t know what to do, so you shyly returned his affections.

“Come on, act like how you write about. Moan for me, grab my hair-” he mumbled through kisses. “Kiss me like you hate me.” he grunted. “Unless-...”

He abruptly yanked down your skirt along with your panties. “Maybe we should do this right. Spread em, secretary.”

He wasted no time in hooking your legs around his shoulders.

“Mr. M-min.” you whimpered, feeling something wet trailed up your slit.

“Shit...you taste so fucking good.” he moaned. “Damnit Y/N, you coulda told me you wanted me earlier.” he flicked his tongue against your clit. “Maybe if you had a good fuck, your reports would be more punctual.”

“That report wasn’t due and you know it.” you found it in you to reply. You tilted your head back, feeling his fingers be introduced into your tightness. “F-fuh”

“Come on, you love this shit.” he laughed, lashing his tongue against you. “Beg for me, beg for my mouth, beg for me to make you cum.” he moaned into your heat. “I said FUCKING BEG! ” he thrust his fingers even deeper. “Come on, scream my name.”

“M. Min, I- we- you....”

“Not that...my first name...fucking say it I wanna hear it. I wanna hear if its as cute in my mind when I read how I made you squirt all over my fucking desk.” he kept moving his mouth and fingers against you.

“Y-yoongi.” you obeyed. This only encouraged him.

“I’m gonna corrupt your mind. I love to play with you like you’re a fucking violin.” he giggled.

(3 days later... )

You were sitting at your desk when a stack of papers was thrown on your desk.

“There are 8 typos, fix them.” was all he said before he walked off.

“Not again.” your work friend, seethed “what is it this time.“ She didn’t look up from her computer as you flipped through the pages.

My office, now secretary ;). Followed by a whole bunch of gibberish that lasted several pages.

“I’ll go talk to him” you rolled your eyes, taking the pile with you. You walked into his office. “Okay sir-” you began, walking through the door. You closed it behind you. “What seems to be the-”

Before you could talk any more, you felt his hand trail under your skirt. You felt his breathy laugh on the back of your neck.

“I was hoping...we could go over your reports last week. I don’t think we got enough done, do you?”

(I was on a deadline....BUT I DID IT, my head is POUNDING)

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