#did like 6 hours of work and promptly decided fuck that

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Into The Unknown, Part 37

First

Previous

Into The Unknown Masterlist

Marinette sighed quietly when she felt a tiny hand pulling at her nightshirt (it was really just a hoodie she had stolen from Tim, but calling it a nightshirt sounded less like bullying). She managed to crack an eye open just enough to look at Damian and then, careful not to disturb Tim, she shifted to make room for Damian.

And, to his credit, the kid didn’t complain in the slightest, settling down in his usual spot between them with his favorite Cat plush in his arms. But, after a few minutes of her kid shifting around over and over again trying to get comfortable, she rubbed her face sleepily and sat up again. Damian’s eyes instantly snapped open and he looked up at her. His eyebrows slowly started to furrow in the way Tim’s did when he was confused – though it seemed like Damian was consciously making an effort to make this face, if the concentration lining his gaze meant anything – and she gave him the slightest of smiles.

“You can tell me if you’re not sleepy,” she murmured.

Damian looked up at her for a moment longer before nodding. “'ana last muteaban,” he confirmed quietly.

She had figured. “You should tell me when that happens.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You can try again next time,” she said, unconcerned as she ruffled his bangs. Then, she shifted out of the blankets and, after he had given Tim his plush to cuddle with in favor of them, she took Damian in her arms. “Wanna do something until you’re sleepy?”

Instead of giving a proper answer, Damian wriggled until he could wrap his arms and legs around her. She appreciated the movement regardless, she was hardly as strong as she used to be and the fact that he was growing was not helping her ability to pick him up…

She hummed lightly as she thought, just barely bouncing on the balls of her feet, before she sighed.

“How about you help me bake?” she decided. Baking always helped when she was feeling down, it was repetitive and soothing, and it would end in something sweet to eat even if Damian didn’t particularly enjoy baking.

“Bake?” Damian gasped. “Cookies?”

“Sure, Dami, we can bake cookies,” she said, kissing the top of his head and making her way over to the kitchen. She sat him down on the counter and then tipped her head to the side thoughtfully. “Got anything you want in particular?”

“Cookies!”

“... right,” she sighed. She rubbed the last of the sleep from her eyes and headed over to the pantry for inspiration. After a moment, she pulled out the peanut butter.

She took out an egg and some sugar. Behold. All the ingredients for peanut butter cookies. Easy and cheap – perfect for baking with a kid in the middle of the night.

After flicking on the oven, Marinette measured out the ingredients as carefully as any trained baker would (which is to say she just kinda eyeballed it) and then handed the bowl over to Damian to mix.

But he just looked up at her blankly.

She returned the look.

“More?” He asked, sticking out his lower lip in a pout.

Her willpower crumbled after approximately seventeen seconds. No sign of the girl that had once resisted Hawkmoth’s influence in sight. A single sad look from her kid and suddenly she was weak.

She sighed deeply as a kind of complaint, but took the bowl back and doubled the amount. This time, when she handed the bowl over for the kid to stir, he gladly did so. She smiled and started getting out pans.

When she had finished spraying them she glanced over and found that Damian was struggling a little with the batter. Which she had expected. His upper body strength needed work and mixing was hard when you aren’t used to doing it. She tried to take it back… only for Damian to whine and hug the bowl closer to himself.

“Dami… I’m just gonna finish mixing it.”

“Me! I can do it!”

She sighed a little but let go and leaned against the counter with her phone in hand. Either he would give up eventually or he would have some sort of insane breakthrough. The batter would be fine no matter what.

And, hey, after a while, the batter was somewhat usable. He held it out to her proudly and she couldn’t help but smile, pushing his bangs back to press a kiss to his forehead before turning to start spooning the mixture onto the greased pans.

(If she mixed the batter a little more under the guise of doling out servings… Damian didn’t need to know.)

After setting the trays in the oven she turned on Damian’s newest favorite show. The man on the screen’s too high-pitched voice filled the kitchen and she suppressed a cringe.

She felt someone sidle up next to her and breathed a sigh of relief as Tim wrapped his arms around her. Not because of the affection, but because the blanket draped around him like a cape was now blocking Damian’s view of her phone. How sad. The guy with the weird orange and purple hat was just about to talk to children. She clicked off the phone and gave Damian a look that said ‘oh no I have no clue what happened!’

Damian pouted but was quickly sated when she handed him the bowl, which still had tiny bits of batter stuck to the sides.

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” she chided Tim quietly.

“So’re you.”

“Touche.”

He rested his chin on her shoulder. “Smells good.”

“Me or the cookies?” she teased, pressing a kiss to his nose.

He buried his face in her neck with a tiny yawn. “Foooooood.”

“You didn’t even hesitate. I’m hurt.”

He chuckled and squeezed her tighter before pulling away to lean over Damian. “Can I have some?”

Damian pouted but, however reluctantly, he gave Tim a tiny spoonful.

Marinette sighed and covered Tim’s mouth with her hand before he could eat it. “No. You’re immunocompromised. Salmonella is bad for you.”

He licked her hand. She grimaced and let go so she could wipe it off on his shirt… which, unfortunately, left him open to try and eat the cookie dough. But Marinette was not one to lose easily, so, out of options, she tackled her boyfriend/fake husband.

(Yes, officer, really, they were wrestling on the floor over a spoonful of peanut butter, sugar, and egg.)

Tim, of course, won – Marinette was severely out of practice. He held the spoon up victoriously.

Unfortunately for him, this was at the perfect level for Damian to eat it.

Tim had never looked so betrayed as he did when he found Damian’s mouth around his spoon.

~

Before this particular story begins, you must know: Tim tried. He really did.

Getting professional advice about children with trauma in Gotham was easy. No one really feels the need to ask why a kid has trauma in the first place, because, well, it’s Gotham.

The only information Tim had to give up was the fact that, hey, Damian’s original family wasn’t the best… and the therapist he had gone to had simply accepted this. There was no ‘could you go into more specific detail about this’ or ‘are you part of said original family’ or even ‘did you kidnap him, oh my god?!’.

The therapist simply looked him in the eye, smiled, and said, “Okay, let’s talk about solutions, then.”

The first option was therapy, obviously, and, despite the fact that this was probably the best one, Tim had to decline.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Er… you’d probably want plausible deniability,” Tim said carefully.

The therapist’s mouth made a little ‘o’ shape and then she nodded. “I see. Then I would suggest extra support at bedtime.”

His forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“Routines are particularly good,” the therapist explained easily enough. “Do something relaxing right before bed, every night, and make sure that he is always in bed at the same time. Be sure to be extra affectionate around that time, too, to put him in a good mood and remind him that he is loved.”

Tim glanced at Damian, who was sitting across the room with a coloring book, wondering what they should do to help relax him. He seemed to enjoy baking well enough, but sugar before bed was… not a great idea. Maybe they could move his bath time to nighttime? Or start doing bedtime stories?

“I would also suggest teaching him relaxation techniques and breathing exercises.”

Tim added that to his notes app. He knew quite a few of those. Who knew that being a vigilante could come in handy when dealing with your kid’s trauma? Wild.

“Sometimes journaling helps, but it depends on the person,” the therapist continued. “It could help him get his thoughts together and help him sort through complicated emotions, but it could also make him spiral. I would suggest that one as a last resort.”

Tim grimaced. He wasn’t one for huge risks like that. Forget ‘as a last resort’, he wasn’t going to be using that at all.

“You need to talk with him about his… events,” the therapist carefully stepped around asking what had happened once again. Tim appreciated it. They had come up with a story to tell, of course, but he would rather avoid going into all of the fake trauma surrounding the death of Marinette’s fake parents… especially since that might make the therapist question them about their mental health, and they didn’t really know how they were supposed to behave about their supposedly dead parents. “Only when he’s comfortable doing it, of course, but you need to validate how he’s feeling. Especially if emotional abuse was involved.”

Tim added to his notes app yet again, nodding thoughtfully. He was pretty sure he and Marinette were okay about that, but maybe he should be more careful about it. Writing it down should help him remember…

“You might also consider getting him an emotional support animal.”

And this was where the therapist made a mistake. Because she had incorrectly assumed that Tim was mature. He was only twenty-one. Having a kid and being a vigilante had somewhat sped up the aging process, but certainly not enough.

Because, the moment they realized this was their chance to get a dog, Damian and Tim both perked up and they were gone.

~

Marinette blinked as she received a text. She had wanted to go to the appointment but, alas, there was a charity gala going on that day. Bruce had tried to get her to go to the appointment regardless… but she couldn’t. If she left him alone there was a 98% chance he would try to poach the entirety of Lex Luthor’s entire labor force. Which, granted, would be good for the workers… but it would tank WE’s reputation immediately and would prevent them from ever having a successful charity gala again.

But she had kept her phone on, so she got to watch in real time as Tim freaked out.

She squinted at the string of emojis before, inevitably, sending a question mark, because that was incomprehensible. Even for him.

And then he sent a picture of a dog with a support animal vest on (from the internet, he hadn’t gone out and bought one quite yet, thank god)…

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She had saved WE’s reputation, but at what cost? There really was no winning, was there?

She clicked off her phone. She would deal with this later. After she stopped Bruce from slapping Lex Luthor for being homophobic (again).

~~~

Next

@unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff @toodaloo-kangaroo @queenz-z @imarivers8 @jeminiikrystal @adrestar @twsssmlmaa @literaryhiraeth @trippingovermyfeet @ev-cupcake

[sorchathered]

Heard it through the grapevine

A/N- SNB Chapter 8 is coming on Wednesday, but to tie you all over here is a one shot of what’s been going on with Bradley in the aftermath of Mirage’s pregnancy announcement. Thank you guys for sticking with me on this journey!

Pairing- Bradley Bradshaw x OC (Mirage/Erin Riley)

Warnings- language, drinking, Bradshit being an idiot

Summary- Bradley is hungover as hell the morning after Mav’s wedding, what the did he get himself into overnight?

————————————————————————-

Bradley had fucked his social life up to the highest degree in the past 6 months but even he had to admit this shit took the cake.

He’d gotten completely trashed last night, after months of trying to get sober, because his biggest insecurity played out right before his eyes. He’d be an idiot to deny he’d never been worried about Jake getting in the middle of his relationship over the past few years, the man had an ego the size of his home state and he wasn’t bad to look at either. But you had always insisted it was platonic, never given him a single reason to doubt you, yet it somehow never stopped the jealousy that bloomed in him when he saw the two of you together. It was stupid really, he’d been the one to cheat on you in the end and burn everything he’d thought he wanted to the ground, but watching your former fiancée make out with the guy he’d always worried about and then get whisked away to no doubt fuck each others brains out stung a little. So he did what he knew best, drown himself in bourbon and promptly pass out at home, or at least that’s what he thought had happened.

He woke up the next morning feeling worse than he had after that rager in his frat house right before graduation, every step had him convinced he was going to throw up everywhere but his tiny french bulldog was a force of nature and she was insistent that they go outside. He was half dressed in his suit from the night before, no idea where his phone could be but that was a worry for future Bradley, right now he needed aspirin and coffee. Still trying to piece together what had happened in the aftermath, it looked as though he’d made quick work of destroying the leftover pizza and most of the lasagna he’d made earlier in the week, clearly couldn’t be bothered to close the fridge as the damn thing was wide open when he entered the room. The last of his expensive bourbon was gone, and it looked like he was out of beer as well. What a mess. As he set about to clean things up he heard his doorbell go off, then someone beating on his front door, what the hell could possibly be this important on a Sunday morning? He grumbled all the way to the entryway, flinging it open to find his best friend Natasha Trace looking even more pissed off than normal, clearly he’d fucked something up judging by the rage on her features.

“I’ve been calling you for HOURS! What did you do just fall off the face of the damn planet?!” She said as she elbowed her way into his living room, he didn’t have the energy for this he was sure but there was no point in stopping her now.

“I was asleep, and honestly I don’t know where the hell my phone went, I’m hungover as fuck right now Nat so can we just skip to the part where you tell me what I did wrong and yell at me?”

She rounded on him and he staggered back, a little nervous until he saw the look of pity across her face. “Bradley we need to find your phone, but first I need to show you something.”

He was going to pass out, he was sure of it. As she scrolled through her instagram to the profile of the girl he definitely shouldn’t still be sleeping with he was almost hopeful that she’d decided to move on from him and posted a new boyfriend, but he knew he couldn’t be that lucky and after all she had just been at his house earlier in the week, if she was seeing someone else she would’ve told him. Right?

What he most certainly didn’t expect was to come across a set of photos, pictures the two of them had taken and never posted because it didn’t seem right, and at the end a picture of a onesie and a positive pregnancy test. Oh he was definitely going to be sick.

Nat had shoved him into the bathroom to shower while she made a pot of coffee and Bradley was frozen in place as he watched the bathroom steam up. How the hell had he let this happen? Why wouldn’t she have said something to him before posting about it? He picked up his phone and looked at the photos again, he did like Mirage despite the circumstances that had started their entanglement, she was funny and very pretty, impulsive yes but he wouldn’t have thought she’d do this to him. He opened his texts to message her, they needed to sit down and discuss this in person, but as he opened them he realized just how drunk he’d been last night. There in the messages were all the answers he wanted, she had in fact told him first and he had told her to go for it about posting the announcement. He was such an idiot, how did he let himself get this way? He needed to piece together the rest of his night and fast, so he shot her a quick message to come over and jumped in the shower. He didn’t know how to fix this, but he knew he couldn’t avoid it this time.

Nat was furious with him, she’d found out through Stormy about everything leading up to their breakup and now finding out that he’d somehow green lit this pregnancy announcement while black out drunk had her fuming. “Do I need to pack you up and send you to a rehab facility Rooster?! What the hell has been going through your head lately?” She was shaking her head between death glares, in his entire navy career he’d always had Nat, since they met in training as young kids, and she’d never been angrier than she was right now. “I know Nat, I know I fucked it all up, but I can’t change it now. All I can do is sit down with Mirage and see how to go forward with this, I-I’m going to be a dad…Holy shit how the hell am I supposed to do this? What if I fuck this kid up? What if I-“ she puts her hand up to silence him, he’s spiraling now and that’s not going to help anyone.

“We are going to work this out ok? Just take a breath, we also need to find you a better therapist because this guy is obviously not teaching you anything beneficial.” She wasn’t wrong, the guy clearly just phoned it in and received his paycheck, Bradley had been going through the motions but not making any real progress. It was times like these he longed to have his parents around, maybe then everything wouldn’t have gotten so out of control.

Within the hour Mirage was at his door, Bradley let her in with a small smile and gestured for her to sit down, but when she saw Natasha she wavered; looking back at Bradley like a deer in headlights. “Relax Erin, I’m not here to whack you, I’m just moral support.” She says with an eye roll, and the girl, albeit irritated, finds a seat on the couch. “So I take it from your texts you drank a little too much last night, I had a feeling you’d be upset after the wedding but I didn’t think you’d forget our conversation entirely” she was frustrated, he knew she would be, especially considering how important that conversation was. “Look, Erin I know I keep fucking it up. I’m a mess, I never should have dragged you into it in the first place but here we are. I’m going to try at this, and you give me all the hell you need to because I really do want to make this work. If you want us to be a real family we can work at it, or if you just want me to co-parent I’ll respect your choices, but no matter what got us here I’m not going to keep letting you down.” He knew he didn’t have a right to promise anything, and he couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t make a mistake again, but he knew what life was like without a dad, and he couldn’t let that happen to his child. His child. He was going to be a father.

——————————————————————

Before he knew it 6 months had passed, He and Erin had been going to couples therapy on top of seeing a new therapist for himself and Bradley could say with confidence he’d been sober for all of it. He wasn’t going to the bar like he used to, instead choosing to come home in the evenings to binge tv and cook dinner with his girlfriend. They had found out just last week that they were having a little boy, Nicholas Bradshaw jr. and truly Bradley couldn’t believe how well things had been going.

He’d been transferred to the Golden Warriors, still working out of North Island but no longer actively working with the Daggers, and while initially it had hurt he knew it had been for the best. His relationship with Jake had boiled over into his work life and he agreed that it was best that they work apart. Life was going well, which usually meant the other shoe was about to drop but he was feeling pretty confident. Until one fateful evening when he received a call after work from a distraught Maverick, Stormy’s plane had gone down over the Atlantic and she was in critical condition. Jake and Admiral Simpson were heading to Walter Reed in Maryland to meet her and they didn’t know when or if she’d wake up. He didn’t know what he could possibly do to help, and without realizing he had already dialed the number of his old wingman. No answer, which he expected but he left a voicemail of support nonetheless. Whatever happened now all he could do was pray that the kindest girl he’d ever met would be ok.

————————————————————————

Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @bobgasm @attapullman @roosterforme @floydsglasses @shanimallina87 @jessicab1991 @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @djs8891 @mrsevans90 @pinkdaisies9285 @nouis-bum @86laura11 @angelbabyyy99 @dizzybee03 @mygyn @jostan456 @dempy @its-the-pilot @kmc1989

[mangoschub]

What’s your coming out story?

I am like the most obvious queer person ever basically 😭 my sister used to dress me up in like her cinderella dresses, and my parents basically knew before I did. Even my sister when she learned what the word meant immediately was like "Oh like my brother!".

See this is ironic because I myself did not have any idea what gay was until like... grade 6 and I thought I was straight. It's even more funny when you consider the fact that I was like already aware of the gainer community of that time so I was literally watching obese men play with thier bellies on YouTube but did not put together I was into that like at all 💀 in my mind I remember thinking I don't like them but I wanna be like them.

I also remember literally looking at guys kissing and being like being gay seems fun too bad I'm not. I fully had like multiple crushes on girls as a child and even wanted to kiss them and stuff, like it was legit i was not aware at all. It's not like it was ever hid to me or anything I just fully did not put anything together.

It finally all hit me at once one day in grade 6 (yes same grade i learned what it was) when I had a dream about one of my guy classmates where I kissed them and it was like a DRAMATIC 48 hours of me suddenly coming to grips with it. When I tell you I had NO IDEA like absolutely 0% idea I was gay until that moment it was a lot for me to process at once. For a time I identified as bisexual, it was for a good while like 2 years ish? This was because I had crushes on girls, but as time went on I realized it was more surface level crushes and I had no sexual attraction to them, hell even my old tumblr from grade 7 or so is out there I have the @ and it will never see the light of day again lmao.

Anyways, now we get to the actual coming out part, so obviously everyone knew and I was the last one to know, but I got the tried and true "you can tell us anything you want to!!" Speech so many times, i knew they'd accept me it just felt like a lot of work to actually tell them and I was lazy. I put it off for a good year, then, like any important decision I make, decided to do it at 1 am while on call with a friend because I thought it'd be funny lol. I did just that I snapped people it for funny reactions, and I even had a code word for me liking men😭. Then I was like, wanna know what would be FUNNIER, and promptly told my parents over whatsapp while they were in the next room over it was kinda iconic of me, ngl.

Anyways, this was a lot longer winded than I anticipated, idk how usual this was? cause usually people know they're different but I had no clue until one day puberty hit and decided to fuck with me in my dreams 😭

[butwhyduh]

Peeping through the stacks

Jason todd x reader

Valentine’s fic

Warning: smut

I recommend the book I mentioned if you like the classics.

“I have a proposition,” Jason said and your eyebrows rose. “Not that kind. We separate. I grab you a book and you get me one. And we meet up afterwards to go to dinner to see what we got. No cheating. No following each other around. Whoever gives the better gift, wins and gets to control the rest of the night.”

“Sounds like plan. Just know Todd,” you said moving up in his space standing on your tiptoe to talk in his ear. “I’m going to crush you.”

“Only if you win, baby. Only if you win,” he said with a smirk. He opened the door to the largest used bookstore in Gotham. 3 stories with a section of just records and another of old comics, it was heaven. They even had a coffee shop in the back of the second story. You went left and he went right.

You went straight for the classics. Jason would pour over old novels for hours and his favorite were clearly dog eared. You thought about replacing them but, while he’s appreciate it, it wasn’t exactly exciting. You milled around the area, looking at books that were nice but not it. As you moved to leave the area, a section caught your eyes.

If you love the classics but need a book written in the last 50 years:

This is what you needed. A careful list of books that you like next to new books was perfect. Jason had been reading his copy of Moby Dick and talking about the hubris of man recently, heavily alluding to Bruce. You grabbed the recommended book: In the Heart of the Sea.

Now to find Jason. You had agreed to no cheating but it wasn’t really cheating to just watch him if you had already picked. He was probably in your favorite area and you walked upstairs to watch down low.

Jason was holding two books in hand and looking between them both. You felt a thrill to watch him. He almost always caught you quickly but the store with multiple patrons and levels must have thrown him off a little. He finally grabbed a book and looked directly up at you with a smirk. You threw your fist playfully. He’s certainly caught you. You came downstairs with a grin.

“I knew you were watching me. That’s cheating,” he said. You held the book behind your back as you kissed his cheek.

“It’s not cheating if I didn’t change my book,” you protested and he kissed your forehead.

“Tell yourself that. Let’s check out and then I can win,” he said, wrapping an arm over your shoulder and walking to the counter. You both laid them down, face down because you’re competitive, and paid. You carried two separate bags and held hands as you walked down to a little cafe on the corner.

The place had the coolest vibes. Fresh coffee day and night, records and music memorabilia on the wall, and a band of musician played on a tiny stage every night. Valentine’s was no exception. You found a table in the back and promptly ordered your favorites from the menu.

“Okay. Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” you said with a grin.

“I thought we’d wait until tonight to do that,” Jason said with a roguish wink. “Oh, you mean the books. Yeah, let’s swap.”

You gave him his bag and he yours. It almost looked like a drug deal if it wasn’t books. You pulled out the book. A continuation of a series you loved but had a hard time finding the next parts. Jason pulled out his and read the back.

“Okay, you won,” you said with a teasing scrunch of your face. “This is really great.”

“This looks great. But you did cheat too...” he said pretending to take his time deciding. “I guess I’ll take the win. But it was pretty close, I’m not going to lie.”

“Don’t rub it in.”

“Seriously, I can’t wait to bore you with more whaling facts.”

“I’m taking it back,” you said and he laughed. “I can’t learn anymore. I’m not kidding.” Jason’s eyes smiled too and you loved the sight. He looked happy. You food arrived and a folk band started playing.

As your food dwindled and it was fully dark outside, Jason’s gaze lingered on your body. His hand sat on your knee as you talked.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said randomly and you exhaled quickly with a shy smile as you looked away. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Okay,” you said, letting him pull you from the cafe and a few blocks down. Jason pulled you close and rubbed his nose against your cheek. You turned your head up to close the space between your lips. It started as soft, gentle, cute. But Jason gripped your hips and pulled you closer and you wrapped your arms around his neck and before you knew it, you were being pushed against a wall as he kissed down your throat. You made soft sounds as he nipped and kissed the sensitive skin.

“Jason,” you said breathlessly. He hummed against your skin. “Take me home. Take me home.”

You ran your hands along the muscles under his shirt as you rode behind him on the motorcycle. Jason insisted on helmets and you wished you could kiss at the back of his neck. Probably best. Your hands on his stomach were distracting enough.

Jason barely drove the bike into the parking garage of his building before pulling off his helmet and turning towards you. You did the same. Neither of you climbed off as you made out. His tongue slid in your mouth as his hands held the back of your skull in place. He reached behind him to turn it off as you kissed.

“Upstairs,” you breathed. He nodded before getting up and picking you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and kissed his neck as you walked towards the elevator. The knee high slit in your skirt had scooted up to expose most of your thigh. Luck was on your side as no one was around to watch but security must have gotten a great show with the pair of you aggressively kissing. Jason pressed your back against the wall in the elevator as you rode up to his floor.

He carried you down the hall. You were less lucky as your elderly neighbor was sitting in the end of the hallway as she always did everyday. She’d watch the sunset and people watch everyone coming home from work or school. She giggled and looked away. Jason put you down the second you both realized and you flushed with embarrassment.

“Don’t worry sweetie, I was married once. Happy Valentine’s,” she said with a big smile looking out the window. Jason quickly pulled you in the apartment.

“I forgot about her,” he said. “Gross part is that she’s probably thinking about her dead husband and all the times he used to rail her.”

You glared at Jason. “That’s.... so gross. Why? Like you ruined it. Your dirty mouth.”

“I can get it a little dirtier,” he said with a wink but ruined by bursting into laughter. “Like do old people blow each other? Can their hips bend that much? I know their knees are bad. What age did they have to give them up?”

“Shut the fuck up. That’s so gross,” you said putting you hand over his mouth and he laughed before pulling you close.

“You look really pretty tonight. I forgot to tell you because I kept staring at you,” he said with a soft look. He bent and kissed you sweetly. Not rushed or hard like earlier. He slowly pulled you to the bedroom. You pulled each other’s clothing off as you walked. Shirt here. Pants there.

“Thank you. You look good too,” you said as you pulled the bedroom door closed. Jason rolled his eyes. He never agreed with you but had given up on arguing.

Jason pulled you on top of him in bed. His nose ran up your throat until his lips met yours. He was slow and deliberate in his movement. His hands roamed your body as you moved your legs to straddle him. You didn’t bother teasing either of you but instead sunk down on him.

“Princess,” he breathed with closed eyes. You sat for just a moment, get used to him, before starting to move. You bent at the waist to give him long deep sloppy kisses. “Baby,” he pleaded before you started moving.

“Remember, I won,” Jason said.

“Yeah,” you asked with a grin. “What do you want, Jaybird?”

“This. Keep riding me. You look so good,” he said breathlessly. His hands gripped your hips as you bounced. He grimaced as you swirled your hips. “Fuck!”

“Oh we like that,” you commented. He chuckled distractedly. Jason pulled you down to where he could kiss and nip at your chest. You whined as he took your nipple in his mouth. He let go with a loud smack.

“Mmm someone seems to like that,” he quipped. You pressed yourself back towards his face and he chuckled against your skin before giving your breasts the attention you wanted.

“I love your Valentine’s gift. You’re so thoughtful,” you said breathlessly. Jason looked up at you confused.

“Yeah no problem. Is now the time?” He asked with his eyes half closed and mouth open as he breathed heavily. His hips jumped to meet yours and he reached a hand down to rub circles on your clit. You moaned loudly and he smiled as he watched you come undone. He thrust your faster to finish with you. You both moved together jumpily as you buried your head in his neck. You breathed for a few second before softly kissing his lips.

“I seriously loved today,” you said.

“Yeah, I’m glad. Me too. Surprised that no one call-“ Jason started before his phone rang and he sighed. “At least we finished. I’ve got to take this,” he said and you rolled off and curled in the blanket. He answered the phone as he threw on boxer briefs. He looked at you wistfully as he talked. It sounded important.

“My source said Black Mask is getting a shipment early this morning so I’ve got to go. We can’t have those guns on the street,” Jason said after hanging up. He leaned over to give you a dizzying kiss. “I’ve got to go but here is your book and a glass of water. Don’t stay up. I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

“Be safe,” you said before he climbed out the window.

“Aren’t I always,” he said and you just knew he was grinning under the helmet before jumping from a 6 story window. No, you thought, no you aren’t.

[twirlyeyebrows]

How Could I Have Known?

(A Zosan Fic)

Link to Chapter 6!

Link to Entire Work on ao3!

Ch. 7 - Because It’s You

Zoro’s first response to the man was not an answer to the question he asked, but instead a question of his own. “The fuck are you doing here?” He spat with slurred words. Sanji sighed. “Well, I was going to take the night watch but Robin offered instead, so now I'm here. Nothing interesting.” He paused and looked Zoro up and down, his eyes naturally landing on the bottle of wine he was currently putting back in the cabinet. “But I'm sure you have a good reason to be here at this hour.” He said rhetorically. Anyone who walked by the kitchen would be able to smell the harsh stench of booze from outside. Zoro shot him a look and closed the cabinet door. Sanji watched as the swordsman hobbled over to the table and sat down in the same place he always did. He looked terrible. Not only was he very obviously drunk but he looked like he'd been in the middle of a huge crisis. He guessed that wouldn't have been too out of the ordinary for how Zoro had been acting lately.

“So are you just not gonna answer my question then, moss head?” Sanji said as he tilted his head towards the drunk. He still hasn't moved from the doorway, he didn't know where to go. “It's not important.” Zoro huffed.

Sanji expected that. At this point, it would've been a miracle if Zoro were to talk about anything that was going on. The silence that followed was painful. Zoro was too intoxicated to realize that his reply barely even counted as a response, and Sanji was trying to hold back from pressing for details. “Alright, well. I guess I'll leave you to it then.” The cook said, beginning to turn around.

He wasn't happy to be cutting the conversation so short. He wanted to talk about what had happened earlier today, he wanted to try to do what he could to help Zoro. He'd be lying if he said he didn't also want confirmation that the swordsman’s outburst wasn't directly his fault. Or if it was, that he'd be able to make up for it. All in all, it was getting harder to watch one of his teammates suffer so much alone. Zoro wasn't going to be any help in that process though, so what else could he have done but just leave? There would be a time when they'd eventually hash stuff out and be back to their annoying bickering selves so he might as well just let Zoro have his night alone with the alcohol. As soon as he started to back out of the door he had essentially just entered, he heard the other man speak.

“Wait-” Zoro started, not thinking about the words about to come out of his mouth. “You should stay.” Sanji couldn't believe his ears. Did that bastard really just invite him to stay through his drunk episode? Did he even have any recollection of what happened earlier? Was he simply just not mad anymore? Sanji didn't know how to respond. This was all so confusing. Zoro was so confusing. He quickly weighed his options in his head. If he stayed he might be able to actually get something out of Zoro, which would be good for the both of them he thought. On the other hand, this was a very slippery slope. Zoro was well past tipsy and Sanji knew that anything could come out of his mouth at any moment. He might end up hearing something he shouldn't, or something he didn't want to know. He decided to take his chances. Zoro may have been angry at him earlier but the air seemed to be clear enough at this point, at least for now. And Sanji wasn't a person who could just deny someone when they needed help. He inhaled through his cigarette, promptly exhaling and releasing a small cloud of smoke into the air. “You want me to stay here with you? Did I hear that right?” There was no harm in reiterating, or giving Zoro a chance to change his mind. He made sure to enunciate his words almost too much.

The swordsman’s mind was so fogged with emotion and intoxication that he only realized what he had blurted out when Sanji repeated it back to him. He cussed himself out in his mind; how could he be so careless? He hoped the red on his checks from being drunk was enough to hide the light pink of embarrassment he could feel spreading across his face. He wanted to try to plead his case. He wanted to start making fun of Sanji right then and there and tell him he'd be happy if he left. Obviously, that would be a lie. Even with his senses going wild, he could still admire the man in front of him. If anything, the booze made his feelings way harder to deal with. Zoro hadn't ever experienced this before; being drunk and feeling the need to be romantic. He was always a lone wolf, especially when it came to drinking. But now things had changed and he had to try to accept that. If he attempted to argue right now he had a 100% chance of losing, and about a 200% chance of accidentally saying something stupid. His brain snapped out of thought as he put together the fact that he had just been blankly staring at the chef since he last spoke. He took a mental note to work on his drunk reaction time so he didn't look like an idiot again.

The emotions he felt earlier drinking alone had subsided and were replaced by new feelings. Instead of being hyper, upset, and jittery, Zoro now felt hazy, a little sleepy, and mostly calm. “Mostly” calm because this situation had “BAD IDEA” written all over it, but it's too late to take back his words now. At least he was woozy enough to be able to play off anything he said as a side effect of the drinking.

“I mean, only if like...if like you wanted to.” He paused to burp, Sanji looked disgusted.“What if I pass out or get sick or die from alcohol poisoning...wh-who would help me?” He thought he would at least try to make himself sound less desperate. He didn't think it worked the way he intended.

Sanji rolled his eyes and chuckled softly. “Of course, you're only worried about yourself,” He inhaled through his nose and made a noise of contentment as he let out his breath. “Typical swordsman.” He said. He swiveled his whole body around and sauntered over to the table, sitting down across from the garden head. “Sure. I'll stay. I don't have anything better to do.” He mumbled. Sanji looked blankly at the man and waited for him to say or do anything. He couldn't think of a time Zoro had ever been like this while he was drunk. He was so...spacey.. it was extremely unlike him. He wondered what was going on in that brain of his.

“Fuck, shit, Goddammit, Fuck, Fuck!” Were the only words that were present in Zoro's mind as the cook sat down with him. He couldn't do anything but watch as Sanji looked at him with questioning eyes. Zoro mentally slapped himself and told him not to think about Sanji’s eyes, or his perfect sunny hair, ...or his peachy cheeks…. or his long thick eyelashes…. Zoro had to shake his head to get himself out of this unending loop. Who would've known that love was this hard to contain? He was sure he looked insane from the man across the table’s perspective. He didn't know if the wine he drank was a blessing or a curse. Okay, it was almost definitely a curse, but at least it made his idiocy easier to excuse.

He wanted to have a normal conversation but he knew that wasn't going to happen. He was scared to open his mouth. The last thing he needed was to say something on a whim and regret it. He was doing everything in his power not to act like a moron, which included keeping his mouth shut at all times.

Sanji continued to sit there confused as to why Zoro had barely said anything to him this whole time but he knew it must've been something related to everything that was going on. On the inside, Sanji was being eaten alive by the feeling of stress. He wanted things to go back to normal, he wanted to clear the slate with the man before him. He didn't know if he'd be able to keep being idle and act like everything would work itself out. Maybe it was a stupidly bold decision but he decided to say something about the events of earlier today. He knew that he had the highest chance of Zoro explaining the most while he was intoxicated, so he might as well get this over with now.

“So, uhh, about earlier..” Sanji started, not wanting to finish his thoughts out loud. He started fidgeting with his hands, fearful to continue, when Zoro stopped him. He looked eager to stay off the topic. “I know, I know. I’m stupid and awful and…” Zoro felt the alcohol continue to fight back. “and I’m sorry.” Sanji was almost stunned by what he just heard. He couldn't remember the last time Zoro had apologized that genuinely. It was nice.

“Look, I'm not upset with you,” Sanji lied. Of course, he was upset. What right did Zoro have to lash out on Nami (and him) like that for no reason? If he hadn't been working through some deep shit, he'd have been thrown in the ocean by now. Sanji didn't want to admit it but it had hurt his feelings as well. Of course, his priority was Nami and her feelings, but when Zoro made a jab about his cooking, he felt a part of him waver. It sucked but he'd gone through way more in his life so adding one more thing to suck up wasn't some impossible challenge. Plus, he wanted nothing more than to just be over this whole “Zoro acting weird” thing, and if avoiding escalating the situation was what it took then by all means he was going to do just that. “I just wanted to know what I did so I could apologize. I'm not gonna beat you or anything.”

After hearing that, Zoro immediately stood up from the table and went back over to the cooking area. He opened two cabinets before settling on the one he was looking for. He grabbed a bottle of expensive vodka they had picked up a few weeks ago from a prestigious island. “Hey what are you doing with that? That's for special occasions.” Sanji protested. Zoro didn't turn around to look at him, nor did he respond. He brought the bottle back to the table, sat down, and took a heavy swig right out of the bottle. Sanji looked like he was using all his strength not to tell off the swordsman right then and there. Zoro didn't know why he hadn't. After swallowing the liquid in one sip he exhaled deeply. He could feel the burn once again, but he needed this to even possibly get through this conversation Sanji had started.

“It was-wasn’t you, cook.” Zoro could feel the alcohol coursing through his system, despite this, he took yet another sip. “It wasn't you. It wasn't Nami. It wasn't anything. I was- being dumb and...I don't know..” He couldn't even try to pass as mildly sober anymore. “I just don't know. But I do know that it wasn't- wasn’t you.” Zoro inhaled, trying to ignore the heat in his chest. “And I.. I really a-am sorry. I know I fucked up bad. Your cooking is great...by the way…” His head started to spin.

Sanji relaxed a little bit. He was grateful to know that it hadn't been him, or Nami by all means. He felt like he could forgive Zoro, although it might take a little time. He apologized, yes, but what he said was still hurtful and couldn't just be swept away that easily. For now though, he had no choice but to keep it to himself. At least he said he made great food, that definitely helped his case.

Zoro confirming that it was just himself being weird was still bittersweet to Sanji. He was relieved that it hadn't been anything he'd done, but he was worried for Zoro’s sake. Whatever it was that was making him act this way was starting to take a dangerous toll on him. Zoro was always grouchy and sometimes rude, but he'd never lash out at someone for no reason like that. This whole situation was changing him and Sanji felt responsible for not being able to help. He knew it wasn't directly his problem but he felt like he had to do something for the crew’s future. Who knows what would happen if Zoro continued to be in this state forever? Sanji didn't want to find out. He couldn't let that become a reality. He knew he had to keep the ball rolling, and the best way to do that was to get off this topic.

Sanji tapped his fingers on the table, not knowing what to say and desperately trying to think of something. He kept eye contact with his hands because... honestly? He was scared to look up at Zoro. Every beat of silence made his heart beat with anticipation, and not the good kind. He felt like he was walking on pins and needles. He heard the swish of liquid in glass and quickly deduced that Zoro is once again taking another drink of the (highly expensive) alcohol. He looked up at him, about to tell him to save some for a better time when the words were taken straight from his mouth. His eyes were met with Zoro staring right back at him with a look of contentment. Could it be contentment? Was Zoro ever content around him? Every single one of their fights would say otherwise.

“That buzz finally giving you a good feeling, moss brain?” Sanji chuckled, trying not to sound so caught off guard. “Yeah. It's a good one. You have good taste.” Zoro replied, every word being drawn out. “I know. That's kind of my job.” Sanji said while taking a breath through his cigarette. He blew the smoke cloud up towards the ceiling. “Yeah, well. You're good at- at your job, cook.” Zoro sounded like a broken record. Sanji debated telling him to put the alcohol down but he hadn't seen Zoro look this pleasant in days. Maybe this is what he needed, even if it was possibly harming his health in the end. The chef didn't know how to reply so he just laughed and nodded. “You know what, what else you're stupidly good at?” Zoro laughed, Sanji raised an eyebrow, not having any clue where this was going. “What?” Sanji asked. “Pissing me off like nobody else.” Zoro said cockily, pressing his hand against the table and leaning forward. Sanji smiled slyly. “Yeah, right back at you.”

As Zoro leaned forward closer to the cook he could smell the tobacco on his breath. He had to use every ounce of common sense he had not to lean fully in and kiss him. Even just this playful back and forth felt like he was overstepping a boundary. He took another drink, he needed it.

Sanji’s eyes widened. “Well we all know what you're stupidly good at.” He said, tipping his head down to gesture at Zoro taking yet another sip. Zoro belly laughed. Sanji felt embarrassed for letting out a mental sigh of relief. He shouldn't care so much about Zoro, but he was so relieved to see him acting like himself again. Well, not really like himself, but an even cheerier version of himself.

“That's- that is so hypocritical, cook. You smoke like… a pack a day.” Zoro retorted, still laughing. Sanji could tell that the man was out of it by now. He was off in his own loopy world, but he was happy. “Y’know.. with both our- our awful habits we'd kind of be perfect for each other.” Zoro said, swinging the bottle around next to him.

Sanji felt his heart stop. There's no way he heard that right. There is no way on earth that those words just came out of that man’s mouth.

Sanji nervously chuckled. He didn't want to act off guard in case Zoro hadn't meant what Sanji thought he did. He responded as normally as he could. “Nah it would be terrible. We'd only perpetuate each other’s habits.” God, what was he saying? More importantly, what was Zoro saying?

Zoro took yet another swig of the vodka, it was getting to be too much in Sanji’s eyes. “Isn't that the point?” The intoxicated man said, shifting his eyes toward the cook. “Is it?” Sanji asked back quickly in a panic. Zoro chuckled and set down the bottle. He had a craving look in his eye. Sanji was starting to look how he felt; nervous. Zoro was apparently able to pick up on this despite his situation. “Relax, cook. I'm not gonna, gonna like make a move on you or anything. ‘Nless you want me to.” Zoro winked.

Sanji sat across from the man in absolute awe. Was this actually happening? There was no way he meant anything he was saying right now. It must be because he's drunk and possibly also sexually ambiguous, which would be news to Sanji. Still, even if he was, why of all people would he be hitting on him? Didn't Zoro hate him? He guessed it was because he was the only person in the vicinity and he was drowning in alcohol.

“You look like you just. Uh.. like saw a ghost. Did I say something wrong?” Zoro asked, seeming very genuine but still foxy. Sanji realized that his thoughts were now translating onto his face. He must've really looked terrified if Zoro could decipher it in his current state. He tried to catch his composure but this all felt so abnormal, so wrong. Why would Zoro be saying these things? Was he going to stop? He seemed like he was enjoying it like he's wanted to flirt like this for so long. Could you even count this as flirting? Sanji wanted nothing more than to know if these were Zoro’s genuine feelings or just an idiotic side effect of the drinks. Either way, there was an intense conversation to be had later.

“I mean, not really? I don't know, you're just acting weird.” Sanji hesitantly replied. Zoro’s face turned slightly more somber. “Oh.” That was all he could say. Sanji couldn't help but feel bad for killing Zoro’s good mood. “Okay well, it's fine I guess, it's just...confusing.” Sanji tried to plead his case. He hoped it didn't translate negatively. “Confusing?” Zoro asked with a dramatically questioning look plastered on his face. Just by looking at his eyes, he could tell that they were glazed over with about 10 layers of a drunken haze. He couldn't believe this was a real event that was happening. “Yeah. Well. Y’know, I- you-” He stopped to take a deep breath, it's as if his throat wouldn't let him voice the words he tried to. “You've never acted like this before, at least around me. It almost feels like.. you're… flirting?” Sanji was finally able to spit out. He wanted to close his eyes and brace himself for the worst but instead, he kept looking at the swordsman, desperate to pinpoint his initial reaction before he had time to cover it up. There ended up being no secondary reaction. Zoro’s initial reaction was staring at the cook, wide-eyed. He looked so out of it yet so focused. Like he had paragraphs he wanted to say but his mind was blank. Everything about his body language was stiff. His entire character changed.

“Hey cook, can I tell you something?” Zoro said after a painful few seconds of silence. Sanji’s palms started to sweat. He had no idea what was coming next. He didn't know if he wanted to know. Half of him wanted to say no and live in ignorant bliss for the rest of his life. The other half of him was dying with curiosity, even if this was just the build-up to some dumb joke or insult. He'd never know if he didn't agree. Plus, what if it was something important? What if it was something about why Zoro’s been acting the way he has? What if there was some way he'd be able to actually help him for the first time? He'd feel awful if that were the case and he ended up declining the swordsman's request. He took another puff from his cigarette, pretending to be calm when that's the last thing he was. “Go for it.” Sanji replied. Zoro looked like he was going to be sick, Sanji felt like he was too. “D-Don’t freak out or. or anything okay? ‘Cuz you have the… the tendency to do that.” Every word out of Zoro’s mouth was getting less and less comprehensible. Sanji scoffed and looked to the side. Eye contact with Zoro right now felt like he was looking into a pit of never-ending fire. He was definitely going to get burned. Sanji couldn't bring himself to say anything, even though he wanted to. He made a gesture to the man to continue with his thoughts. He had made it clear that he wouldn't freak out, just not through words.

It was impossible to ignore Zoro’s mannerisms right now. His hands were shaking and his face was beet red. He looked like he was about to take a final for a class he'd never attended. There was some inner battle he was fighting with himself, and Sanji assumed he was about to get insight on what that was.

“Okay. Uh.. Jesus Christ.” Zoro couldn't even put one thought together. He really was struggling. It was painful to watch. “Would you wanna write it out or something?” Sanji suggested, trying to ease Zoro’s debilitating stress. “No! No, it's. It's something I have to say.” He said with urgency.

Sanji’s eyes got wide as Zoro’s had minutes prior. This was a completely new side of Zoro and it felt like he wasn't supposed to see it. He was nothing like his normal laid back and dismissive self. Watching Zoro get so hung up on trying to say one thing was intense. Sanji didn't think he'd ever see Zoro fidget out of stress but apparently, there was a first for everything. What could he possibly be trying to say that would put him through this much turmoil?

“I'm going to- to regret this so much.” Zoro mumbled. He put one of his hands in his grassy hair. He sighed. He looked at the wall, knowing if he looked at Sanji it would end so much worse. Every time he tried to get the words out they'd catch on his tongue. His throat was burning as it did nowadays whenever he talked to Sanji. He wanted to tell him so badly. He wanted to get it off his chest and deal with the consequences as fast as possible. The question was, could he? The desire to continue his normal arguments and stupid nicknames with the cook was stronger than the will he had to admit his feelings. He didn't want anything to change. He guessed they already had. His intoxication didn't help while trying to make this decision. He had already outright flirted with the cook which would've easily put his sober self over the edge. He couldn't control his emotions at all, but the tiny ounce of sobriety he had hidden somewhere in his body was yelling at him to keep his mouth shut.

“Actually, y’know… it's- it's stupid anyways and I don't think you actually care.” Zoro stumbled, sounding downright terrible. Sanji intently took in Zoro's expression for a second. He looked terrified. This was a look Sanji only ever saw on his face when the man or one of their other crewmates was near death. What the fuck was he going to say? He looked heartbroken.

Sanji drew a long breath from his cigarette. “Look, I don't know what's going on and I'm not going to pretend like I do, but you really seem distressed right now.” Sanji said in a calm tone. “No shit, curly.” Zoro retorted with a scoff. Sanji rolled his eyes. “I'm just saying that whatever you want to say probably isn't as bad as you think it is.” Sanji shrugged. He was trying his absolute best to give off a “too cool” demeanor, hoping it'll rub off on Zoro. “You don't. You don't know that.” Zoro replied. What could Sanji possibly say right now to get through to the moss brain? He seemed hopeless. “Exactly. I don't know, but if you tell me maybe I can help, if you'd let me.” Sanji nearly whispered.

Zoro felt his heart skip more than a beat. Sanji’s words rang in his ears. “If you’d let me.” Zoro would do anything for Sanji, he didn't think his body would give him a choice. Maybe he should just get it over with. Maybe he should tell him.

Would he be able to?

“I th-think...uh…” Zoro's sobriety was completely thrown out the window. “Should I find Chopper? I don't.. feel well.” He said, sounding weirdly ashamed. “Of course you don't feel well you bastard. You're piss drunk.” Sanji replied with an obvious tone. “But if I recall, you mentioned wanting me here specifically in case you got sick so..why get Chopper?”

Zoro’s mind was clouded by so many thoughts and emotions he couldn't form a response. He never thought he'd ever get this close to talking about his real feelings, especially not with the man they all revolve around.

Sanji was beginning to lose it but he couldn't let that show. He needed to know what Zoro was going to say. He wouldn't leave until he found out. It was something that needed to be said, even if the other man didn't want to talk about it. The fact that it was proving to be this complicated to put into words while Zoro’s this drunk was very telling. The walls Zoro had put up to guard whatever information this was were incredibly strong. Sanji knew he had to remain calm and coarse Zoro through this as best as he could.

“Hey, moss head, look at me.” Sanji said in a hushed tone. He felt like he was speaking to a child. The fact that he was saying these tranquil words to Zoro of all people was absolutely beyond him. Zoro took one glance at the cook and immediately looked away. Sanji sighed softly and dropped his head a tiny bit. What could he do to make this easier? Suddenly he felt another hand against his own.

Sanji’s initial reaction was to pull away and punch the man in the face. He didn't do this, of course. Instead, he flinched, pulled his hand back a tiny bit out of shock, but resumed its position after a split second of consideration. Sanji remembers the times he'd been worked up like this, and he always remembers that having someone there next to you is the best way to attempt to get through it. Sanji was the only other person in this room so of course if Zoro physically needed someone, he was going to show that through him. Still, it felt very weird to feel Zoro’s skin against his own. He tried not to think about it.

Then Sanji felt Zoro weakly try to put his hand in his. In another wave of shock, Sanji almost pulled back once more and activated a fight response. He just needed to keep telling himself that the swordsman was drunk and didn't mean any of this whatsoever. He needed someone at this moment. There was no one else in the room with them. 1+1=2. It meant nothing more than that and Sanji was going to try his best to help, even if it meant… holding hands with Zoro… even just the thought of that left a confusing taste on Sanji’s tongue.

Zoro was internally freaking out while also being completely numb at the same time. The immense amounts of alcohol he'd consumed had fully taken over by now. The low tingle he felt every time he moved and the burning heat in his chest and throat made that very evident. At the same time, somewhere in his mind, something was telling him to stop what he was doing. Unfortunately for him, as much as that voice tried to scream, the drunken want of physical affection was louder.

Zoro had no desire to make Sanji uncomfortable. Zoro didn't even have the desire to do this thing he was doing in the first place. Well, he did, but only in the deepest corners of his mind. If he were sober right now, he'd have told Sanji to leave him alone and they both would've gone about their days. But the current predicament was a lot different than that.

He had heard the cook tell him to look into his eyes. And he did... for half a second. He couldn't dare to look at him. He had decided that days ago. Sanji didn't understand what was going on but Zoro knew all too well. If he were to make eye contact in a vulnerable moment such as this, he didn't know what he might do. Whatever it would end up being, it wouldn't be good.

He heard the cook’s voice again. That lovely and calm voice. Zoro had never heard Sanji speak with such a delicate tone. He never wanted it to stop. He wanted to live in this bliss forever. He wanted to hear Sanji sing him songs in this tone, he wanted him to wake him up every morning sounding like this, he wanted to get one of the leftover dials from the sky island and keep those syllables forever. Zoro at this moment didn't care how cheesy he was being or how deep he had gotten himself into this hole. He just wanted to keep Sanji talking.

But the dreamlike fog wore off as Zoro realized the actual words Sanji had said.

“Is this..helping? I mean, uh, should I like… I don't know, sorry.” Sanji fumbled. He was never a huge hand holder or super physical guy. Despite his unwavering comments towards women, physical affection had always been sort of a gray area for him. His main goal, however, was helping Zoro through what he was going through right now, so he was able to set aside the discomfort he was trying to hide. Hearing his voice say what he just had though, he figured he wasn't doing a very good job at concealing it. He continued to let Zoro’s hand rest loosely in his, trying to tell himself not to let his own hand get clammy in the process.

Zoro realized how he was making Sanji feel and instantly felt a wave of guilt wash over him. His chest tightened and he knew he should let go of the cook’s hand, but God he didn't want to. He knew it was the right thing to do though. It would be beyond rude of him to not pick up on Sanji’s alarmed mannerisms. Zoro slowly untangled his fingers from the other man’s. He immediately missed the feeling of having a hand entangled with his own, as strained as it had been.

“Fuck. I'm.. I'm sorry, I didn't-” The swordsman's words were taken out of his mouth as he felt Sanji grab his hand back. His eyes shot up in shock and his face was saturated red in a heartbeat. Sanji ever so softly laced his fingers in between Zoro’s and held down with gentleness.

“I know this is… unconventional. Especially for.. us and with all things considered. But I've been where you are. I know how you feel. You need someone and I'm here so.. don't apologize.” Sanji tried to say every word with care. It was terrifying and weird and still made no sense in his mind but if this was the only way he'd be able to get through to Zoro, so be it. He'd rather awkwardly hold hands with him and then wipe his mind of it later than have Zoro continue to be in this slump for the rest of his life.

Zoro’s shocked expression dissipated as he processed Sanji’s words. He couldn't form any correct thoughts it seemed. He was touched by the affection Sanji had shown and was caught off guard by the fact that they were once again interlocking fingers. Something about what he had said rubbed Zoro the wrong way though. The way he inserted himself into his shoes like he knew what this was like. Like Sanji knew what it was like to accidentally fall in love with someone off-limits for an infinite number of reasons. Zoro didn't know everything about Sanji’s past by any stretch of the imagination, but he was pretty confident that the cook hadn't gone through this specific situation. He could feel the heat prick at his ears as he looked away from Sanji finally.

“Y-you don't know what this is like.” Zoro said with disdain. His words were slurred and his tone was a low growl. Sanji had to force himself not to immediately start up a fight with the swordsman. “I know I don't know, but I can get a good idea, moss head. I'm just trying to be here for you.” Sanji said, his words hinting at aggression. “I know. Thanks.” Zoro said, ridding his voice of all emotion. Sanji’s face twisted sourly. “Thanks? That's all you're going to say?” His voice raised a little bit. “Do you see what I'm trying to do? What I've been trying to do?” Sanji was beginning to show that he was getting fed up. “All I want is for you to be back to your normal asshole self. I don't know what you want from me.” Sanji protested.

Zoro felt disgusting. Physically and mentally. The alcohol was not helping his case, if anything it only made him sicker. Balance that with the realization he'd been a burden to Sanji this whole time and behold the worst feeling of Zoro’s life. He wanted nothing more than to run away and never let the cook see his face ever again. Maybe this was the line their relationship (whatever that was) wouldn't cross. Zoro looked up at Sanji. He was horrified.

“I don't know either.” Zoro replied. “I ha-have no clue what you could possibly do to help.” Sanji scoffed at this statement. “Jesus… Okay, so what have I been doing this entire time then?” Sanji spat. Zoro could see that familiar fire start to sizzle in his infinitely blue eyes. He really was upset. Zoro hated where this was going.

“I don't know.” Zoro didn't know how he was supposed to respond to the cook’s inquiries. He didn't know what he could say that would prevent escalating his anger while also not blatantly lying. He'd done enough lying. Enough pretending everything was alright or at least trying to. He wanted to let Sanji help but how would that be possible if Sanji didn't know what was going on?

“You know, I'm trying really hard not to fucking lose it right now. Why are you being like this? I just want to help.” Sanji asked, taking a deep and tired breath. Zoro remained silent. It was the best option for him at that moment. He had no answer to give Sanji.

He could feel Sanji’s piercing gaze beating down on him. He didn't want to look at the man. He didn't want to see the disappointment he had caused. Zoro felt a squeeze in his hand.

“I'm trying not to get upset, I really am, but you're not making it easy for me.” Sanji let out a desperate laugh. Zoro kept a deadpan face and continued to avoid eye contact. “I just…” Sanji collected himself. “I just want to know what it is you were going to tell me.” He confessed. “Then maybe I can start to do some good.”

Maybe, just maybe if Zoro was honest with Sanji he'd get a break. This had all been far too much. Today, the last few days, this moment he was currently living. It had all been too much. Everything was constantly buzzing in his head, what was right vs wrong, what was romantic vs platonic, what consequences all of this would produce, everything. All of it was non-stop crashing in his mind and he was over it. He could feel vibrations in his feet. The walls looked like they were spinning. His heart rate was through the roof and he had just caught a glimpse of Sanji. He looked like he'd gone through hell. Zoro realized he probably had. He'd been doing everything he could to help for days and Zoro’s barely gave him a thank you. Zoro felt beyond sick. He'd hurt Sanji multiple times during this endeavor and had tried to walk away. He couldn't get away from it anymore. He couldn't keep hiding from the things he'd tried to bury. Clearly, they weren't going anywhere. Maybe if he was honest there would be some silver lining. Maybe if he was honest he could stop the banging in his head. Maybe if he was honest he could take away the pain he had caused Sanji. Maybe he'd end up making it worse.

There was only one way to find out.

“You-You're sure you wanna know, cook?” Zoro said, barely comprehensible. He sounded fragile and small. It was unlike any way he'd ever sounded before. He was genuinely scared.

Sanji felt his fingers accidentally loosen on Zoro’s grip as he couldn't help but jump back a bit in awe. Was he finally getting somewhere? Was Zoro finally going to try to open up? Sanji felt like he could run a marathon with all the adrenaline that hit him at that moment. “Yes, Jesus, of course I do.” The words fell out of his mouth, praying to any god in existence that Zoro wouldn't go back in his shell.

Zoro was shaking ever so slightly. This was the most out of his comfort zone thing he'd ever done. He usually enjoyed pushing himself to build up stamina in all aspects of his life but this was a very different scenario. He tried to sound out what he was going to say in his mind. Everything became a mixture of random words and he couldn't stick to one train of thought. He opened his mouth only to promptly shut it again. He'd never been so timid about anything, he didn't like it. He didn't like feeling like prey. If an enemy were to attack right now, he'd be useless in the battle, and that drove him insane. He needed to just get it over with. He needed all of this bullshit to be over. If Sanji ended up hating him he could at least put that energy into training. He tried to convince himself he was sober. He wanted to be as composed as possible if he was going to ruin his own life.

“Okay...uh. Fuck. Sorry.” Zoro was off to a terrible start. Why were confessions so hard? He let go of Sanji’s hand. He thought that if he told Sanji he loved him while they were holding hands it might be too much for both of them. He leaned back. He finally got the courage to look at the other man. For once, he let himself get lost in his eyes. The mix of blues and lavenders seemed to swirl together as the cook looked back in anticipation. His eyes looked just like the sea, maybe prettier. Zoro felt a pang in his heart. Some of the nervousness washed away as a deep blush dusted his cheeks. Maybe he'd actually be able to get this off his chest. Taking in Sanji’s features as focused as he did made him lose all sense of reality. Nothing mattered to him but the man in front of him. He needed Sanji to know that.

Zoro tried not to think about the consequences this may have as he took a deep breath in. When he looked at Sanji he could tell he was on the edge of his seat. Zoro was surprised that he hadn't been shaken to the brink of death by Sanji and his intrusiveness. He supposed he had been mentally, though. He watched as Sanji tried to conceal his eagerness with a calm facade. Zoro saw through it of course, but he appreciated the sentiment. He couldn't blame him anyway. If Zoro were in Sanji’s shoes, he would've lost all patience a long time ago.

Zoro snapped out of his thoughts as he realized what he had committed to do. He tried to coach himself in his mind but that damn fancy vodka had made it nearly impossible. He was going to have to wing it and hope for the best. He couldn't believe he was actually about to do this.

It wasn't called liquid courage for nothing.

“L-Like I said, don't freak out… okay?” Zoro practically pleaded. “I won't, moss head. I'm telling you, I just want to help.” Sanji replied, looking more hopeful than he had all day. Zoro begged the universe not to let his confession be the cause of that hope being crushed. “Okay…” Zoro continued, extremely tentatively. He thought he'd start with a secret that would hopefully be easy to swallow, and then get into the real reason he was in so much agony. That's about as far ahead as Zoro had planned.

“So.. y’know how you're obsessed w-with women?” Zoro stammered. He hated saying that. It sucked having to remind himself that there was no way in hell the cook would ever like him back. Not like it had ever been a possibility, but Zoro was bitter about it nonetheless. Sanji raised an eyebrow. “Yes…?” He questioned as he resisted rolling his eyes. Zoro exhaled. “Well, I guess.. uh.. I guess you could say that I’m not.” Zoro spat out as fast as he could. Sanji looked taken aback but not necessarily in a bad way. When Zoro read his face he didn't see any sort of disgust or judgment, which was a good sign. He did look slightly more nervous than before though. Zoro prayed even harder that he hadn't caught on yet.

“Are you coming out to me, idiot?” Sanji replied, sounding as chill as ever. Zoro was in awe. Did he really not care at all? More pressingly, was it that obvious? “Well when you put it like that..” Zoro didn't know what he wanted to say or how to. Luckily, Sanji was there to answer a question he hadn't even asked. “I don't see why that's something you should be worried about. You think anyone on the crew is going to care?” Sanji said, almost looking like he was trying to hold back laughter. “Is it th-that easy to tell?” Zoro said, looking at the floor and crossing his arms. To Sanji, he looked like an angry little kid, and he couldn't lie to himself and say it wasn't a little amusing. He shrugged in response. “Not necessarily. I mean, we all kind of knew something was up. You've never once shown interest in… well, anyone. It's not that hard to put the pieces together.” He paused, examining Zoro’s stressed facial expression. “But if you're asking if we've all conspired behind your back and decided you're gay, no, we haven't.” He said, taking a draw from his cigarette.

Zoro hearing those words leave the cook’s mouth was like a dream. Maybe a nightmare. Whatever it was, it didn't feel real. There was so much information to take in now and his drunken mind couldn't process it. Apparently, everyone on the crew knew that he wasn't straight- wonderful. That's exactly what he needed. He huffed as he continued to go over what Sanji had said in his mind. He unfolded his arms when he realized Sanji had said he never showed interest in anyone. That was a good sign. He hadn't yet deduced the real secret Zoro needed to say. That was the next thing that hit him. The actual secret. He'd gotten so caught up in Sanji’s tranquil response that he'd forgotten about what he really needed to tell the man. This was going to be a lot harder. He tried to think of how to even begin to word this as Sanji burst his thought bubble.

“Is that all? All of this just because you don't like women? I mean I'm not trying to invalidate your feelings, I'm just saying-” Sanji was about to reassure the swordsman more when he began to speak over him. “No, it's not-” Zoro sighed. This was it. This was him committing. “It's not just that.” Sanji’s face turned from calm to concerned in a split second. Something about his expression showed that he might've seen this coming. He put his elbows on the table and put his cheeks in the palms of his hands. “Do go on.” Sanji said nonchalantly. Zoro heard this response and wished that what he was about to say was as carefree as Sanji was anticipating.

Zoro knew he had to rip it off like a bandaid. All he had to do was pretend it was one of Chopper’s bandages. He never fought as well when he was all wrapped up like a mummy. This was basically the same thing, right?

“I think there's somebody that I like. A lot.” Zoro spoke as fast as he could while still being able to annunciate. He kept his gaze strictly on the table. He didn't want to see Sanji’s face. He watched as Sanji’s hands fell away from his face and smacked down on the tabletop. He winced at the loud bang that came from it. “Well that's great!” Sanji’s hands moved into the air. “I guess chia pets can find love after all. So who is he?” He said with that same gleam of anticipation from earlier. Zoro didn't respond. Sanji noticed. “Come on you bastard, if anyone knows about love, it's me. I won't make fun of you I swear.” He tried to reason with Zoro.

Zoro looked down at the bottle of vodka still in front of him. He hadn't taken a sip in a while. This might be a good time. It could also be possibly the worst time. He glanced up at Sanji who had taken notice of his unending stare at the bottle. Sanji still had the same “For the love of god just spit it out” face but with a hint of “If you take one more sip of that I'm going to kick you all the way across the Grand Line”. Zoro looked back down and pushed the glass bottle to the end of the table.

“Fucking Christ, okay well,” Zoro began. He rubbed his eyes with two fingers and kept them there. “It's uh.. someone on the ship.” He ripped off like a bandage, just like he said he would. Sanji’s face practically lit up. Obviously, he was all for some Straw Hat drama. Little did he know. He put his hands on the edge of the table and leaned back. “Well shit! That's news!” He said in a cheery tone. “Now you have to tell me.” He shot Zoro with a smug look. Zoro didn't see it, but he felt it.

“Haven't I said enough?” Zoro said with a tone drenched in anguish. He folded his arms again and looked towards the kitchen sink.

“You've said a lot, I'll give you that. I know that took a lot out of you, shitty swordsman.” Sanji said with a lighthearted twang. Zoro picked up on the genuine proudness weaved in the sarcastic words and he blushed ever so slightly. He snapped out of it as Sanji pointed a finger at him and continued. “But you’re downright cruel if you'd really leave me hanging after dropping that on me.”

Zoro groaned and tilted his head back. His head hurt, he was still nauseous, his heart was racing and he was starting to sweat. Everything about this entire day had been a whirlwind. He just wanted to sleep. He smiled as he thought about getting in bed next to the cook. He'd put his arm around him and the smaller man would lay his head on his chest. Zoro had daydreamed about this scenario so many times it almost felt real. He continued to imagine being under a huge blanket as he was ripped from his ideal world. And by the same man he was thinking about, no less. Sanji was snapping his fingers in Zoro’s face, trying to get his attention. It definitely worked.

“Hey, asshole! Wake up! I know you're still drunk but you owe me a name!” Sanji said as he pulled his arm back in. Zoro tried not to get flustered. It was clear that Sanji was no longer upset. It felt like the tension had been sucked out of the air. He wasn't mad, he wasn't grossed out, he didn't even seem shocked. He was messing around with Zoro just as he used to and things finally felt normal again for once. Zoro felt good. Sanji’s reactions had been so tame compared to what he had imagined. He'd barely reacted at all, and the reactions that he did give all seemed… nice. Zoro felt the familiar butterfly sensation he always got around Sanji. He felt like he could breathe for the first time in so long. He took a deep inhale in and exhaled just as hard. He had jitters, but the good kind of jitters. He felt like he could tell Sanji anything. He felt like he could do anything.

“Guess.” Zoro said, a tiny smile creeping on his face. Sanji tilted his head forward. “Guess?” He asked back. “If you wanna know so bad-” Zoro paused to swallow his spit, the alcohol had dried out his mouth so much. “-guess.” He stated. “Don't make me do that.” Sanji said, almost embarrassed.

What if he guessed wrong and made a fool out of himself? He was the expert of love after all. He had no clues as to who it could be, Zoro acted the same around nearly everyone. Everyone except…. well it didn't matter because there's no way that could ever happen. Sanji thought back to just a little while ago when Zoro had acted “friendly” towards him. “I'm not gonna make a move on you or anything. ‘Nless you want me to.” Zoro’s voice echoed softly in the back of his mind. He drove the thoughts away. There was no possible way that was the case, it was stupid of him to even consider.

Now that he settled that within his mind, he had to take a shot in the dark and try to figure out who this idiot admired. He started with the obvious answer.

“Okay fine, I'll play your game.” Sanji said smugly. Zoro felt his stomach flip as Sanji said those words while making direct eye contact. “Is it Luffy?” Sanji guessed eagerly. Zoro chuckled. “No, it's not Luffy. I don't think I could handle that much chaos.” He said honestly. Sanji nodded in agreement, he had a great point. Sanji pondered again. “Umm… Usopp?” Sanji asked, skeptically. “Nah, I definitely- definitely don't see him like that.” Zoro countered. Sanji expected that but it still left him confused.

Sanji’s mouth got dry. No one else on the ship was a viable fit for Zoro. Sanji’s palms started to sweat. There was no way, right? No way that what he was thinking could actually be right?

Sanji laughed nervously. “I'm outta guesses, honestly. Just tell me.” He said quickly. “You can't think of anyone else?” Zoro asked, raising an eyebrow. The way Zoro phrased the question stressed Sanji out, he didn't like how drawn out and suggestive it was. “Nope, no one.” He replied. “You only guessed twice, there's-- not many other people on the ship, maybe give it one more shot.” As confident as Zoro felt after Sanji had only replied with good responses to everything he said, he still didn't want to admit to the man that he was fond of him like that. The chef’s change in expression hadn't helped either, after he had guessed Usopp he seemed to have turned a little paler. Zoro could feel the nervousness creeping back but he tried to shove it down.

Sanji wasn't stupid. Of all people, he'd be the one to recognize hints when they're dropped. Still, he had an incredibly difficult time believing what Zoro was implying. He didn't know if he'd be flattered or terrified if his suspicion turned out to be true.

He supposed he didn't have a choice. If he wanted an answer, he was going to have to get it out of Zoro. He'd been backed into a wall and left with no choice, clearly, Zoro wasn't going to crack. He resumed his calm outlook, telling himself he was getting worked up over nothing.

Sanji let out a laugh before he said anything. He inhaled through the cigarette still between his teeth and exhaled that all too familiar smoke. “Well at this point I'm completely in the dark. I'd bet my life on the fact that it's not anyone I didn't guess.” He said, not knowing how to blatantly ask the type of question he was dying to. Zoro turned his head to the side, staring at the kitchen floor. “Well I guess you'd have to take your own life then.” Zoro retorted, quieter than his normal voice. Sanji opened his mouth to say something but closed it when he realized Zoro had opened his mouth again too.

“I wouldn't let you do that though, cook. You know why?”

Sanji felt his heart drop into his stomach. He wiped his hands on his pants and tried to pinch himself back to reality. There was no possible way that this was happening. He attempted to steady his breath, but it didn't work. He had to focus on not letting the cigarette drop out of his mouth.

“Why?” Sanji was able to choke out. He knew what was about to come out of Zoro’s mouth but he couldn't admit it. He couldn't say it was real until he heard it.

“Like a bandage.” Zoro said in his head. He reminded himself to thank that special vodka later for giving him the courage to do something as insane as this. He looked the man in front of him dead in the eyes.

“Because it's you, Sanji.”

[wizkiddx]

Congratulations on 500 followers!! Could you do nr 2 with Tom please <3

thankyou <33 im very in my feels abt friends to lover atm, so ik this is a completely unoriginal concept but here we are

warning: nothing much- maybe homesickness? (+ the fact tom has poor choice in popcorn )

^^^ sorry I couldn't not put this on here and I will reuse it lots n lots

/////////////////////////

“Right I got two options annnnddddd there is only one correct answer.” Tom hummed up at you, pulling his tired gaze away from the phone screen and up towards the kitchen where you were standing triumphantly - having just raided his cupboards. From behind your back you whipped out a bag of popcorn in each hand.

“Sweet…. or salty?” Sighing with a small chuckle Tom shook his head at your playfulness. He didn’t know how you did it but you always always made his smile.

“I’m not a psychopath…” You huffed in relief, already turning around to throw the salty back in the cupboard where it belonged. “So salty of course.”

You were trapped in a house with an absolute psychopath.

You scowled at him, for having such poor taste, expecting some sort of argument to start. That wasn’t the case though, instead he just stared at you expectantly.

He must really really be unhappy.

You’d sensed it on set that morning - it wasn’t hard to miss. Not when it was your best friend, who for the past two months you’d been spending at least 6 hours a day with whilst shooting. Even when you were supposed to have a day off, when Tom had some solo shots or vice versa, you’d still come to keep the other company. It didn’t make sense but you both just sort of liked it that way.

This wasn’t your first rodeo working together either. Your first joint project had been almost four years ago, when both of you were barely adults, still figuring everything out. Ever since it had been bumping into each other every so often, always with an easy and effortless relationship.

Your current director had noted your chemistry at an awards show (the man never switched off) and decided in that moment he HAD to cast you together for a project. And a year later, here you both were, shooting in Australia for what was set to be a record breaking new release.

And it had been going great - better than great even. But as soon as Tom had shown up to makeup this morning, you’d known something was up. It was fair to assume it was something from home, maybe even just a bit of homesickness, or perhaps something more severe. Either way, the situation was probably exacerbated by the fact he didn’t have his brother or bestfriend or manager or normal syltist with him right now. Tom was pretty renowned within the industry for always having a massive entourage - which was normally made up with his family and friends. This time though he was going it solo.

Today had been long and you’d had to do press at stupid oclock in the morning last night for your current release - which meant your plan had always been to leave promptly and collapse into bed as soon as physically possible.

But Tom needed your company. So you hadn’t. Instead, you’d somewhat subtly invited yourself to his rented house for a movie night - blaming it on your director wanting you both to study the relationship dynamics in ‘out of sight’ (a J Lo and Clooney romance movie).

“You think you know a person and then they loose all your respect… just like that.” You sigh jokingly, gesturing to the bag of ‘foul’ popcorn your costar seemed to like.

“Well we’ve come to a crossroads.”

“It’s been nice knowing you but this…” you scoffed and dramatically rolled your eyes “… I see no way out.”

“Isn’t it better if we have a bag each? Then I might manage to actually get some before you scoff them all.”

You yelped in protest, though really you were just grateful he was still up for a bit of a laugh. He had been much less jokey the whole day, though was seeming to warm up a bit.

Once you had poured the two bags of popcorn into two separate bowels and prepared the film on TV; you plopped yourself onto Tom’s sofa, so your back was against the corner and your feet were over his lap (it wasn’t weird, just normal for the two of you). Instinctively, Tom lightly grabbed your ankles, repositioning you on his thigh slightly before leaning across the pull the blanket over the both of you. Whilst he smoothed out the crinkles in the fluffy navy fabric you took the opportunity to poke your toe into his side - garnering his attention.

“I take it you don’t wanna talk about it?” After he froze, Tom then nodded jerkily. “But if you change your mind, you know I’m here right?” His demeanour changed at your second statement as his body literally sagged into the cushions, with a grateful if small smile.

He respond by mouthing an ‘I know’ and that was enough for you. Shuffling down the side a bit you pressed play, settling in for the evening. Tom still had a hand resting on your ankles, occasionally rubbing his thumb up and down the bony bit.

Honestly you didn’t really see what your director was going on about when he raved about their on screen chemistry and it seemed that neither did Tom. It wasn’t a scathing commentary that gave it away, instead it was his silence. Which you quickly realised was the he had drifted off, his head lolling a little so he was facing you, palms now completely lax on your legs. It was whilst you were just taking in the sight before you, that a buzzing cut through the otherwise soft noise from the TV - which you had turned down for Tom’s sake.

It wasn’t your phone but you instinctively still reached for it from the coffee table and seeing that the name just read “Harry H” you thought it’d be fine to answer.

“Harry?” You whispered into the receiver, slightly cupping your hand round your mouth just to make sure you weren’t too loud for Tom.

“Hello?”

“Harry it’s me”

“Who?” You’d met Harry countless times, though given the fact Tom had been alone all shoot - you shouldn’t of expected the kid to be able to recognise your voice.

“Oh sorry Y/n um Y/n L/n”

“Oh no my fault sorry Y/n. How are you?” The conversation was jilted, you could practically feel the awkward energy radiating all the way from the otherside of the world.

“I’m alright thanks, how about you.”

“Yeh not bad I uhm… I - is my brother there?” Oooh. How to answer that question.

“Um sort of, we er… we were having a movie night and he’s fallen asleep. It’s why I’m whispering like a weirdo.” Harry laughed at that and you continued. “Is everything okay? You need me to wake him?”

“No no, mum just said he was having a rough time so was going to cheer him up with my exquisite sense of humour but if you’ve bored him to death then no need.”

“What can I say I’m just talented. Anyway I should be heading back to mine anyway so um I’ll let you go?”

“Oh yeh no worries, and uhm thanks-um thanks for keeping an eye on him.”

“Someone has to” You chuckled softly back, before bidding a final farewell to Harry.

Having hung up the phone, you leaned over to gently place it back on the coffee table but making a mental note to put it on charge before you left. Your next job was to manoeuvre your legs away from him without disturbing him but before you could even start planning the movement, you noticed his weary eyes blinked over at you. Freezing, your mouth made a little ‘o’ shape as you winced at yourself for disrupting his peace - today really wasn’t the day for that. There was a silence as Tom swallowed thickly, attempting to shake off the heavy lull of rest before he spoke. “Will you stay with me… please.”

Undoubtedly, your body didn’t play it as cool as you wanted it to. Thinking you’d heard him wrong, your chin protruded forward and his eyes widened. “ Sorry not like-not like that just um-just on the sofa… theres-theres spare blankets and I can-“

“-course T, no worries…Oh and um your brother just phoned if you-“

“I know.” He spoke softly and with a nod, but didn’t move at all, apparently no interest in calling his brother back.

With a stammered nod, you stood up, finally removing your legs from his touch in order to nip to the loo. You splashed your face with water, ate some toothpaste ( better than not brushing your teeth at all) before going to collect Tom’s quilt off his bed. By the time you re-entered the living room, Tom hadn’t appeared to have moved at all. The hood of his purple jumped was still up, the blanket still only half covering him, the excess lying cold were you had been sitting. He laughed lightly at you trying to wrangle with the king size duvet and get it in without tripping over yourself or knocking anything over.

“You sure you don’t mind? I’m just being stupid and-“

“Honestly I’m too tired to walk back to mine so this is perfect.”

“You live across the road.”

“Thats like 50 steps too far.” You deadpanned back, as he raised his eyebrows and locked you direct eye contact - which you very stubbornly returned.

The both of you sat like that for a minute, Tom eventually gave up with a sigh as he motioned for you to lie back.

There wasn’t an issue at all with space. A listers rental homes were never lacking in space - the grey sofa was a U shape, with ample space for the both of you to lie down. Each of you took a respective corner, your legs meeting in the middle and gently brushing against each others.

“Thanks for babysitting me today by the way.”

“I wasn-“ You were about to deny it, except one look and Tom saw straight through you.

“Thankyou Y/n/n” Seeing there was no way out of receiving his thanks, you instead opted to just shut him up. Nudging his leg with yours and leaving it touching you murmured you last words of the evening - eyes already closed.

“Fuck off Holland, ‘m tryna sleep.”

~~~~ let me know if you have any feedback or anything (but pls not too mean this isn't proof read so blame that) <33 ~~~~~~

tagging : @thefernandasantana @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter @hollandfanficlove @msmimimerton @thegirlwiththeimpala

[a-pretty-nerd]

Self Indulgent Shigaraki Nonsense Part...6??

Tomura Shigaraki x Pregananant reader series

A/N: Dude I'm not even close to being done, I really love writing this series. It's a whole lot of fun to see Shigaraki have a normal domestic life with the reader. Like damn. I'm thinking of writing a one-shot where the reader doesn't keep the pregnancy and its reader and Shigaraki going through the motions of that in their relationship because I'd like some more diverse fanfic out there. Let me know what you think!

Warnings: Descriptions of childbirth. If you want you can honestly skip this part.

Your contractions started early in the morning. Around 2am you felt the familiar cramp in your stomach that pulsed. At first, you thought it was another false alarm. You had been having a lot lately, but they just kept coming. They weren't long, and they weren't super painful yet either. They just made you tense and pause for breath. You shuffled out of the bathroom and looked over to the sleeping form in your bed.

There the father slept peacefully. You gazed upon his gentle features tucked underneath layers of scaring. You had wondered if the baby would take after him. If they would have that cute little beauty mark on his chin. You suddenly realized You'd be finding out soon enough. You laid back down beside him and closed your eyes in an attempt to get a few more hours of sleep before you had to prepare.

Mostly everything had been prepared beforehand. Your Midwife, a kind woman by the name of Mae would be on call at all times. Once contractions started getting regular, you were to call her. Apparently, Mae was well known amongst villain and crime families. When Tomura first brought her, you were surprised there was even such a thing as a Villian Midwife. But the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. Underground villains and criminals needed their own help. Accountants, lawyers, employees, etc. With Villians becoming more and more popular, it was no surprise that you weren't the only villain family.

Mae was a professional, the best at her craft. She'd delivered hundreds of babies without issue and you would be her next case. She practically took over the house with everything she did. Helping to put together a nursery and everything you could have ever needed. You decided on natural water birth. Something that made Shigaraki unreasonably nervous. If anything went wrong, he was prepared to call every villain doctor he knew of. Hell, he'd send for you to be airlifted to the nearest hospital if necessary.

The pain woke you up again. The intense ache coursing through your body. You let out a strained breath as you sat up in bed. Your partner jumping to life with a jolt. You chuckled through the pain when you saw his wide-eyed expression.

"You okay?" He asked, his wide eyes filled with concern. You've never seen him so visibly worried before. So doting. You continued to laugh as the pain passed.

"Yeah it's just, the contractions, they're getting worse." You took deep breaths as you sat up in bed. Resting your head against a tower of pillows. Tomura sat up to get a better look at you.

"Should I call Mae?"

"Um...no I don't think that's necessary yet."

"Have they been regular?"

"Well, every ten or so minutes."

"I'm calling Mae." He turned away to get up and reach for his phone before you stopped him.

"No! Not yet. I can wait. I don't wanna bother her." His expression turned dark.

"I'm calling Mae." He ignored you, leaving the room to call the midwife. You huffed in frustration. Really, you felt fine. It was like a bad period cramp. There was no need to panic. "She'll be here in thirty minutes. I'm preparing the tub."

"No, Tomura wait, please. That's not necessary. I'm not even remotely close yet. Just hold on a few more hours." Tomura looked away and back down the hallway. He shifted from side to side before entering the room again and sitting on the edge of the bed beside you. His eyes glued to your thighs. He reached out a gloved hand and placed it on your knee, running his hand up and down your thigh.

"Don't try to tough this out." He told you.

"I won't." His eyes shot up to give you a knowing look.

"You need to tell me if anything goes wrong. If anything feels even the slightest bit off."

"I will. I promise." You reassured him. Bringing your hand to grasp his. He pulled his eyes away to look down at your hand and squeeze back.

"This is really what you want? It's not too late, Mae could bring it to be adopted. We could go home." Tears filled your eyes. No. You've come so far, done so much to prepare. You're not giving them up now. You shook your head.

"No. I can't do that. I've come too far for that now. That isn't my home anymore." You tore your hand from his to cup his cheek. When you looked back up, you could see tears forming in his ruby-red eyes. He looked scared. His bottom lip starting to quiver. "You are." You told him. He let out a defeated sigh and rested his head against your belly.

"You better not hurt her. You hear me? You better be good to her." He whispered. Your tears finally fell down your warm cheeks. You quickly wiped them away. You loving ran your fingers through his hair, petting his head. The sweet moment only to be interrupted by the sharp pain of another contraction.

"Fuck!" You cursed as your hand tightly grasped his shoulder. His attention snapped up to you, tears running down his face as he watched. Soon the pain passed as you took deep breaths. "Do you think, you could time my contractions for me?" You asked as it eased.

And so the hours upon hours of labor began. At first, Mae recommended you stand and move around to lessen the intensity of your pain. So now Tomura watched you shuffle around the house as you groaned and cursed. He timed every contraction, put the blow-up pool together, and set up towels by it, made you raspberry leaf tea because he read somewhere that was helpful.

He counted the seconds until Mae arrived. When the doorbell rang he promptly stood from his seat on the couch and quickly went to open the door. There stood the short old woman with a large smile plastered across her face. Her six arms holding a plethora of bags and boxes of necessities and pleasantries. She left one hand free just to greet him with a wave. He looked behind to watch the car with his own men drive away, and then again around the yard.

"Don't worry. There's no one but me, honey." Mae reassured as she pushed past him and into the house. You watched her waddle in as a contraction began to fade. Her attention leaving Tomura far behind and devoting it entirely to you. You watched Tomura grunt before looking back out the door to check one more time before closing and locking it. "I mean really, think about it. What woman in her right mind would use this time of all times to call the heroes on you. How cruel would I be!" She chuckled as she set her things down.

"You'd be a fool not to. A time like this would be perfect. We're alone and vulnerable." He growled behind her.

"And end my career just like that? No sir! I've worked too hard to get where I am just to let you dust me! Now let's see, you said on the phone contractions were regular?"

"Oh, well, not really. They're not that bad. Maybe every fifteen, ten minutes, give or take. Right?" You looked up at Tomura as he starred down with a cold expression.

"Her pain varies, but the timing is growing consistent." He corrected. You huffed in annoyance.

"Alright well let me just check the baby's heartbeat before we do anything else, okay? The last visit everything was fine, but we can't be too careful now can we, Dad?" She addressed him. A cold metal stethoscope glided across your skin as she silently listened. "Good, strong heartbeat. Everything looks good right now. Let's keep you active for now and monitoring those contractions, okay? Dad? How are we doing on preparations?" She turned back to look up at Tomura with an unbothered stare. He glared down at her.

"I've prepared the pool and towels. I'll add the warm water when we're getting closer."

"Oh good. That's more than most Dads do. You got a planner here don't ya?" She turned to you and smiled.

"Heh. He's a doomsday prepper." You joked. Tomura did not find this amusing, but Mae gave a kind giggle.

"Well, at least he's smart, huh?" She spoke as she shuffled away and back to her cluster of items. You looked up at Tomura and watched his expression soften as his eyes met yours. You gave him a kind smile.

"Something like that." His eyes narrowed on you for a moment, only to relax again when you chuckled at him.

Contractions came and went. Getting stronger and stronger by the hour. Now they were getting closer and closer. They started at 2am, it was now 9 at night. Tomura helped you undress to get you into the warm water of the pool he placed in the living room. Mae moving furniture aside and setting up her tools and everything as you stepped into the warmth of the bath. It allowed your tense muscles to relax, forcing a moan of relief from your lungs. Tomura knelt down behind you, his gloved hands never too far behind.

He watched you closely, all of his attention focused entirely on you. His right hand reaching out to rub soothing circles across your bare back. You closed your eyes shut as you groaned, another contraction grabbing ahold of you.

"That's it, good job. Don't forget your breathing, focus on your breathing. Dad, don't forget to do the breathing too." His eyes flashed up at Mae before going back to you.

"C'mon Y/N, breath with me." He instructed, his hand coming around to lay flat against your chest as you laid back against the pool. He felt your chest rise and fall with each deep breath. "Good. Again." He continued firmly. Another contraction struck, sending a jolt of pain throughout your entire body. You coiled back in pain, your face scrunching into a painful grimace.

"Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!"

"Okay! Okay! Let's check you again see how far you're along okay!? Just breath."

"Just breath." He repeated.

"I'm breathing! I'm breathing!" You shouted back in frustration.

"Okay we're getting close you guys, we might be ready to push here in a few minutes." You panted as the pain subsided again. Tomura's attention came back down on Mae.

The birth itself felt like a pain-fueled blur. An intoxicatingly painful bender of sounds and colors. You couldn't focus or think straight, the pain rattling your head in your own skull. He watched you bark and huff and cry out. Something he knew very well. For a moment it took him back to the long and painful Dr's visits. The pain so unimaginable he grows hot with rage at the idea you might be feeling even an ounce of pain at all. Pain he caused.

You swung your head back to plant it firmly on his shoulder, your hair wet with sweat and water. He holds your hand tight, willingly letting you crush it with your own strength. It's nothing to him. He presses his lips into your temple. Wishing with all his might he could go back in time and change things. You're panting, you're body is growing weak, your hand is losing its grasp. Your shoulders are relaxing. No. No. This isn't right. You're not supposed to be this weak now!

"Almost!" Mae's voice shouts with gusto. He rests his head against yours before he lets out a weak and exhausted sigh. His voice rattles in a sad and begging tone.

"C'mon Y/N. You're so close." He says softly. Your body coils back as he feels your muscles spring to life once again. Your lungs filling with air before you let out a shrill, horrific battle cry. Only for it to abruptly be replaced by another. Your body drops limp in his arms once more as he feels you panting. Mae gives a triumphant cheer and proceeds to tell you how well you've done. How it's all over.

"Hello, little one!" The old lady chimes brightly. Tomura keeps his eyes shut tight as he presses his head against yours. He hears their loud, harsh cry. He knows it's over. He knows there is no going back. Once he opens his eyes and looks at them, at that little monstrosity, it'll be all over. Maybe you'll see the truth when you see it. Maybe you'll finally understand and come home with him once and for all.

"Both of you, open your eyes! Look at him!" Mae orders. The harsh and intense pain subsided, left with a dull ache, renders you exhausted. You hardly feel you have the strength to open your eyes, much less move. You pull your head up, feeling the weight of it on top of your neck. Heavy and pounding. You pull your eyelids apart to look down, your vision blurry at first. The harsh light blinding you for a moment before the shapes you see sharpen and become reality.

"Tomura, look." You whisper. His hand squeezes yours, he's gently shaking. You turn to watch him slowly open his eyes, and turn his head. In Mae's arms, a rather small and wrinkly infant cries. It's nearly blue skin, changing as it screams. Its face quickly becoming red with expression. It's no monster. It's weak and helpless and unaware. It's so small, it's half the height of his forearm. Its little hands, balled into fists, swat at the air as its legs coil back to its torso.

"Say hello!" Mae jokes. With a weak smile and laugh you oblige.

"Hello!" You coo. Tomura relaxes as you look back at him with a kind and elated smile. His gaze never leaves the child as Mae prepares him to be placed on your bare chest. Its crying soon subsides as it curls up under your chin. It's crying being replaced with little huff and sniffles from you. He leans back and away to watch the two of you.

He's in shock it would seem. As he sits back to watch you, he feels a tightness in his chest. He feels a wave of somber relief wash over him. His thoughts were gone only replaced my emotions.

"Dad?" Mae calls to him. "Dad?" She calls again. The third time he turns his head to look at her with a wide-eyed expression. She chuckled at him. "Would you like to cut the cord?" She offers, bringing him closer and instructing him how. He does so, quickly turning his attention back to the two of you. You look so peaceful. So happy. His gaze trails down to his child.

He watches his balled little fists press themselves against your chest, its expression turning relaxed and calm. Its little head covered in a rich black mess of hair. What color are its eyes? He wonders.

You turn your head to look up at him with that sweet adoring smile. His heart raced in his chest. He is overwhelmed and yet at this moment, nothing is happening. Time has slowed and has become irrelevant to him. The way you look at him. He feels like he's done something right. Like he's being praised for a job well done. He feels wrong about it. He should be making you feel that way. So, he tries.

"A boy?" His voice is hoarse and shaking. You nod your head. "A boy."

"A healthy one at that! Those lungs!" Mae jokes again as her arms go about working to clean and manage the space. You gently run the pads of your fingers against his small little back. His skin is so soft and smooth.

"Give me your hand." You requested.

"What?" He spat in shock.

"Give me your hand." You repeat firmly, your fingers gently spelling out the word: Mom, on his little back. Tomura reaches out a gloved hand. You reached out and removed the glove, taking his middle finger and gently directing it to the baby's back. "Gently." You tell him. Pressing the pad of his finger to his son's soft back. With this, you gently spell: Dad, repeatedly. Until he understands and continues to spell it himself along the baby's back. Very careful, and delicate. Tomura rests his head on your shoulder as he continues, slowly drawing the word. Allowing for a safe and intimate moment between the three of you.

[saintorchid]

DJUNGELSKOG

On your last day of midterms and Nanami decides to buy you the stuffed animal you had your eye on for a while. 

___________

A/N: It’s midterm week for me and what's better than not studying for my exams? Writing about Nanami Kento <3

Warnings: mentions of sex

___________

"Oh my god, I seriously think that I am going to cry," you said in your frustrated laced voice. It was the last day of midterms, and you have spent the past several hours studying at your school's library. Every day since the beginning of the week, you set a routine: wake up at 6 am, head to school by 7:45 am, study before you head for one of your exams, go home, take a nap, wake up, have dinner, study, and finally ending the night sleeping. But that wasn't the only thing stressing you out. What you really needed was your boyfriend, Nanami Kento.

Due to your conflicting schedules, you rarely saw each other. Nanami was your biggest supporter in anything you did. You wanted to learn how to knit him a scarf, and he bought you a kit with pretty yarn. Did you want to maintain a small herb garden? Say no more. He surprised you with basil, rosemary, lemon balm, and thyme plant pot. He wanted you to succeed. Knowing that you rarely saw him made your heartache even more. You had an hour left until your final midterm then it was spring break. You thought about all the things you wanted to do with Nanami over your break. Slowly indulging in your daydream, you suddenly received a text from Nanami. 

"Good Luck on your last Midterm, Sweetheart <3. I know we haven't seen each other, but I have a special surprise for you when you get home. My break is over. I'll see you soon, my love. I love you to the moon and back." 

A surge of motivation hit you like a wave. You were going to ace this last midterm and head home to your boyfriend. Studying for a bit more, finally satisfied with your effort, you faced your last midterm. 

Your professor explained the details of the exam and gave the class two hours to complete it. After some time passed, fellow students got up around you and turned their exams in. You moved your pencil swiftly across the exam, making sure you have everything right. You were the last student to leave. After you turned in your exam, you wished your professor a nice spring break, and they wished the same to you. 

Feeling like you just conquered the world, you finally headed home, home to him. You entered your shared house only to be dimly lit with candles and the smell of Italian food cooking on the stove. You saw Nanami pick some of the basil you were growing and put into his famous pasta sauce, which he refused to share until the two of you were married. 

You kept staring at him until you notice that his tall figure was right in front of you.

You were about to say something, but Nanami silenced you with a kiss before saying, "Welcome home, sweetheart."

His hand was on your cheek, and you raised your hand to caress his hand slowly. 

"I'm home, Nanami."

He pulls you into a swift hug and promptly tells you to take a shower. 

You follow his command and head towards the bathroom. The hot water washed away your tiredness. You stood still, enjoying the water trail down your body. 

Once you were done, you changed into a set of comfy pj's and were greeted to a table filled with Italian dishes that you couldn't name, but you weren't complaining. 

The both of you took a bite of the delicious food. You moan audibly because all you had this week was quick, easy meals like instant ramen. This is the first day you had a home-cooked meal, especially if Nanami made it. 

Nanami sets his fork down and asks, "How come you don't moan like that when we have sex?"

You choke on your food and reach out for the glass of water next to you. Chugging the water, you see him smirking in the dim kitchen lights. You miss him and his teasing so much it made you beet red. 

You answered, "Because you fuck me so hard that no sound comes out of my mouth, dummy."

He is pleasantly surprised at your retort, which leads him to smile and say a quick sorry before giving you a wink. 

The both of you conversed, talking about school, work, and deciding which movie you two wanted to see tonight. After eating, Nanami took your plates and put them in the dishwasher. At the same time, you headed to your shared bedroom and turned on the TV using the remote to put on a movie on Netflix. 

You made yourself comfortable on your shared bed, and Nanami opens his arms so the two of you could cuddle. Still, before you can fall into his arms and cuddle, he leaps out of bed. "I have a surprise for you. It's a gift for you finishing your midterms and studying so hard," Nanami said with a proud voice. 

He leaves the room. You got lost in deep thought, wondering what type of gift he was going to give you. 

He pokes his head through the door and tells you to close your eyes. You follow his order. You hear him shifting on the bed and place the gift right on your lap. You kept thinking what it was, but before you could continue your thought, Nanami tells you to open your eyes. 

You open your eyes and screeched in happiness. Your brain was fried due to studying, and all you could do was babble. 

He laughs at your reaction, happy that you love it so much. You finally come back to earth and reach for the gift he got you. It was the famous Ikea bear, otherwise known as a "Djungelskog". 

Before you could bombard him with questions, he tells you what you wanted to hear. 

"Remember when we went to Ikea like a month ago to buy new plate wear ." You nod at his response, listening intently. He continues, "When we passed by the stuffed animal section, and I noticed you holding the bear. I asked you if you wanted it. Your mouth said no, but your eyes said yes." After dating him for 3 years, now embarrassed that this man can still see right through you. 

"Since you were busy with midterms and I barely saw you, it was perfect timing. I went to Ikea this past Tuesday while you were at school. I bought the bear and took it home and hid it in the spare closet in the hallway." 

You immediately hugged him and peppered his face with kisses. Your heart was beating rapidly, and a faint blush appeared on your face. He smiles and gives you the same treatment back. After a few moments of you two kissing softly, he pulls away, opening his arms to cuddle. With a swift motion, you lay on Nanami's chest while hugging your precious djungelskog. 

You were finally together again, and this moment the two of you shared right here was, love. 

The End. 

[rapspud]

Bittersweet

Bittersweet    A/N: Decided to rewrite this one. Please enjoy.

Yoongi looked at your friends as he sneered at your prone form sprawled out on the ground, your fingers scrambling to find your glasses.

“Aw what’s the matter? The poor baby can't see?” He purred as he picked up your glasses and dangled them in front of your face before throwing them into the dumpster. “Have fun diving!” He cackles as he slides past your prone figure, cruelly stepping on your hand as he passes.

You could hear the snickers of his friends behind you. You watched as his best friend, Seokjin clapped Yoongi on the shoulder, and whispered, “Oi, I get the whole I hate “y/n” thing but seriously—that was a bit much don’t you think?”

Yoongi  couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “She ratted us out! So I fixed it-and now she can’t see to snitch! And shouldn’t you be on my side? You’re in just as much trouble as I am!”

Seokjin could only look at Yoongi like he had a third head, “ Yeah I guess, but still...there is-” at Yoongi’s raised eyebrow he swallowed what he wanted to say, instead choosing to leave rather than to help Yoongi’s victim, “Hey I gotta go I’ll catch you later okay?”

Yoongi smiled and waved good-bye before walking away from the group. How could he possibly explain how much he hated Y/N? No one here knew the truth about your families-how he had to share a home with you,  your family serving his. He had no respite from you. Yeah, Y/N deserved everything she got, he thought as he got into his car. Plus it's not like you wouldn’t rat him out when you got home about what happened. This time as he drove past you and saw you hunched in on yourself, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as he saw you clutching your injured hand, staring resolute at the dumpster, knowing full well that you would go in after the glasses. After all, he knew how hard your mother worked to buy them for you, he knew how you worked 2 jobs and also kept track of your younger brothers. Deep down, he really hoped that maybe this time you would finally explode and tell everyone about all the horrid acts he committed against you. 

Except that you never did tell on him. 

In fact, you avoid Yoongi like the plague.  After finally scrambling into the dumpster and reclaiming your glasses, you clambored back out, hand still screaming in pain. As you stand there wiping the garbage from the lenses and picking off random refuse from your clothes you honestly don’t think you can sink any lower than this. You swipe grimey hands at your cheeks as hot tears run down them, thankful that you are alone. And as you walk away you begin to make plans. You couldn’t keep doing this. And with renewed energy you begin walking home, not didn’t looking back choosing instead to forge ahead, putting one foot in front of another until finally you were in your mid=twenties, and had your own little place. You were happy with your life. But you should have known. All good things must come to an end eventually. You hadn’t thought about him in years, attending school, graduating, opening up a bakery with your best friend. Essentially you were hiding, but not really. 

And then by some ill stroke of luck, he found you.

You awaken to the blaring of your alarm with a groan. Was it really 8 am? The flashing numbers of your clock inform you that it was in fact 8:59. Shit you were late. Cursing your snooze butten, you scrambled out of your bed and grabbed the cleanest clothes you could find off the floor and stumble as you attempt a whole new balancing act: pulling up your pants while holding a hot cup of coffee and a piece of toast dangling precariously from your teeth. As you run down the street towards the bus, slinging your backpack over your shoulder while you scramble to tuck your shirt in you promptly run into a solid wall and fall on your ass. Your hair is covering your face as you look up at  what you had plowed into, an apology already leaving your mouth when you got to the face. “Um…hi, uh…sorry about that.”

“Y/N. From YHSN?”

“Yes?” you become wary, no one around here really knows you as you chose to keep to yourself…“Do I know you?”

The grin that spread across the man’s face could be described as nothing less than cruel and vicious. “Yeah, Y/N L/N right? I am here to inform you that you have 24 hours to vacate the premises. Good luck.” He stated before unceremoniously dropping an envelope onto your lap and turning on her heel to leave you in a stunned heap on the floor.

What the hell had just happened? Maybe you were still dreaming?

You were dazed for a moment as your brain tried to compute the absolute absurdity of what had just happened and then you were on your feet chasing the man, yelling at him to stop but he just kept on walking.

Finally catching up to the man, you grab her arm, “What the fuck man?” you yell, “this is illegal as hell! Thirty days is the minimum!” You shove the notice back at the man, hitting him in her (very solid) chest hard.

“Y/n, Y/n, I see you're still full of venom huh? It’s completely legal actually-you see I” he leaned forward, “own the building now. And to my delight, what do I learn? I find out that Y/N L/N happens to be a tenant! Guess how happy I was to finally find you again after all these years and then get to have you vacate your home.” he laughs as you gape at him like a fish.

“Min fucking Yoongi, I do not have time for your petty ass childish bullshit! ” you hers, voice laced with venom.

“Aw kitten you remembered! I am truly honored! But alas I cant stay and chit-chat, and well, neither can you. Tata chica!” With that he jerks her arm from your grasp, sending you back to the ground in shock for the second time that morning, before climbing into an expensive black car and driving away.

You scream curses to the sky, because after 8 peaceful years, the man you had spent so long  running from and then finally forgetting, had found you. But of course, the sky only decides to rain. And as you trudge back home to call into work, (because seriously fuck this day) you can’t help but wonder how everything came to this moment. After a shower and change of clothes, you fall into your bed, allowing yourself one moment of respite before you begin to tackle this new problem, closing your eyes.

You were back there again, trapped both in a small body and the cave that haunts you as you watch helplessly at the rising water. Your tiny voice is raised, tinted with fear, “I told you we shouldn’t come here! My mama said-“

The boy next to you cut you off, “Crying ain’t gonna fix it, I will save us”

“You can't even swim,” You yell, unable to remain calm. 

“I AM GONNA SAVE US!” the small boy shouted, “so don’t cry Y/N.” He gave you a small smile, one that made you feel slightly safer and he took hold of your hand. “Follow me and don’t let go no matter what.”

“Okay,” you say, for some reason feeling braver after placing your faith along with your hand into the boy’s hand. He said he would, so of course he would save both of you. After all, he was your best friend and you don’t pick losers.

It was a lot harder though, when all was said and done. Yes, the two of you made it out of the cave alive, but not without nearly drowning, and you had slipped and injured your ankle along the way. Luckily, you did make it out, and while the two of you spent a cold wet night huddled together on the beach, you were alive. In the morning, you were rescued further as the search teams found. And while your mother had you wrapped up in her warmth and was crying and thanking the people over and over that had saved you, the same welcoming was not happening to the young boy. You could hear screaming as a woman in a fine dress and her husband yelled at the boy, your tiny hero, before there was a loud smack. You watch as the boy falls, hand clenched to her face, tears streaming down her face as her mother continues to land hard blows upon her body until she is dragged away. You cried out for you friend and as the two of you met eyes, for the first time you saw hatred reflected back at you. That was the day Min Yoongi stopped being your friend and became your tormentor.

He followed you everywhere, taunting you, breaking your things, and ultimately breaking you. Your mother finally quit working for her house the day he’d thrown your glasses into the garbage and you had come home, broken glasses in hand, face streaked with tears and reeking of garbage -you had finally confessed what had happened, what all had been happening. You had moved away, your mom working several jobs and then as well as yourself working, then you working to  pay your way through chef school and finally moving out into your own place. And all of it had just been destroyed because he found you.

You sigh looking up at your ceiling letting your anger consume you as you curse Min Yoongi to a lifetime of diarrhea. And an itchy butt. And you hoped her eyebrows fell out, just for good measure.

You look around your apartment one last time before closing the door with finality. this asshole, you think to yourself. “Just wait” you say as you look down at the address your brother had just texted you.

An hour later you stand before a gated house and ring the doorbell. And ring it. And ring it. And continue ringing it (after all it was nearly 6 am, and as you had learned that morning, if you want to ruin someone's day, do it first thing in the morning) until a sleepy figure stumbles outside and smacks your hand away. You take this opportunity to dart inside the gate and into the house carrying your things with you.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Yoongi yells at you from outside, beginning to stomp back to her front door. You could only grin as you take in the pajama bottoms and robe, while you stand there like a goddamn Amazonian queen, “You took my home. this is payback.” and then you dialed the police, “Yes? Officer? There’s a half naked man on my lawn, please send help! I’m so scared”

You couldn’t help the grin that covers your face as you smile at Yoongi, “Good luck asshole.” You say sweetly, before slamming the door in her face. Nothing had ever sounded so sweet as the sound of the lock turning over, followed a second later by desperate pounding at the door. And Yoongi could only pound on the door until the cops showed up and he explained that this was, in fact, her home, as well as that the intruder was actually you. The officers had asked him if he wanted you arrested and for once he let it go, telling them that you were having a lovers quarrel and apologizing that they had to come out over something so silly. As the cops pulled away, he went to the back of the house and slammed the sliding glass door open only to find the house seemingly empty. As he walked from room to room he couldn’t help but get angrier and angrier. But when he found you passed out on her bed, he paused, somehow her anger dissipating instantly. He stood there, looking at your sleeping body and wondered if you would ever know her real feelings for you. If he would ever be able to tell you. And the real question: could you forgive him? He knew it was asking a lot, but he could only hope. He sat and thought about how to express to you the things he needed to say. He wondered how exactly did one explain how guilty he felt about how he treated you, how he didn’t really understand why he went out of her way to make your life miserable back then…and then you had left him. How, when you left he realized just how broken he was inside. When he bought the building he couldn’t believe her luck when he saw your name as one of the tenants, but her old ways came back hard and for some ungodly childish reason he couldn’t control himself. That he should have been apologizing that morning and telling you how thankful he was that it had also brought you back to him. He guessed that it was far too late for him to ever have your forgiveness and he couldn’t help the smile that played on her mouth as he approached the bed. He reached out a hand to smooth back some hair that covered your face when you wherpered, “Yoongi...” he stilled, “…I’m sorry” you mumbled. What could you possibly be sorry for? He couldn’t help it, but it made him angry that you would apologize to him after everything he’d done and especially while in such a vulnerable state that the next thing he knew he was grabbing the blanket and ripping it away from your curled form. It’s momentum  sends you over the edge of the bed to land in a heap on the floor. You sit up cursing her very existence,

 “What the hell Y/N?!” He yells right back, while you could only manage to stare up at him from where you sat on the floor. But this time you weren’t having any of her bullshit. You jump up and get in her face “ What the hell? What do YOU mean what the hell? Who the hell buys a building solely to evict one person?! Are you that rich? Do you hate me that much?”

Yoongi yelled back, “Hell yeah I do!“ 

"You have issues, Min Yoongi! I did nothing to you except be born! Do you know how hard I worked to forget what you did to me? And you come just back,” you pause, swallowing thickly, you would not cry. Not here. Not now, “But not anymore! I won't let you break me again Yoongi. I am worth so much more than that!”

Exhausted, you  move to push around him but he grabs your wrists instead and pins you against the wall.

“Let me go you asshole!” you yell at him fighting back for once in your life, all while trying to hide your face and the tears that were no longer just threatening to spill over. “Can't you just hate me from a distance? I’m sorry your mom was a horrid cunt to you! I’m sorry, okay! But please, just let me go! Leave me alone” And then her hands were gone, and you were free. You couldn’t help it, you looked up and stared him in the eyes, for once determined to make him see how he wrecked you.

Yoongi could only stare at you, watching as the tears fell, tears once again caused by him, and then he heard the five words that ripped open her wounds, words he knew he deserved, said in a voice so broken he didn’t know where he should start to even attempt to repair it.

“I hate you Min Yoongi.“

He couldn’t stand it, he knew he deserved them but he just couldn’t stand there and just accept them. Accepting those words would be like giving up, and giving up probably the only pure thing he still had in her life. Had. And so he moved, not thinking about consequences, only a desire to cleanse those words from the air around him. He grabs you again, pushing you against the wall, capturing your face in one hand, forcing you to meet her eyes, while he brushes your hair away with the other, "Good. Never forget it.”

And then he crashes her mouth against yours.

You didn’t know how what was happening was happening and some stupid part of you was excited to have him pressed against you,  mouth was moving against yours and then you were responding and for some reason it felt so good–like coming home. It was like your body suddenly was against everything you wanted-you found yourself wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss, a giggle bubbling up when you nipped at her lip and he groaned. and then you both were tearing at each other's clothes in desperation. And then the world stops making sense. You and Min Yoongi, enemy of the state #1 were having sex. And it was good. It felt so right, like you two had been made to fit each other only. When it was over he lay behind you, placing gentle kisses along your neck and down your collar bone. The last thing you remember before falling asleep in your enemy’s arms was Yoongi gently wherpering a muffled “I’m sorry” into your ear over and over.

When you wake, you are surprised to find an arm wrapped around your waist and you freeze as the memories of the night before come rushing back and you begin to mentally beat yourself up as you carefully slide out of the bed and grab your clothes, making a mad dash out of the house, dressing yourself along the way.

No way had you slept with Yoongi and enjoyed it. You were an idiot of the highest order. You slept with the man who wanted you homeless because he hated you.

You let out a deep sigh as you did a very new special walk of shame to your job, where your boss, Mandi greeted you by yelling, “Oi ! What cat pissed in your cheerios?”

Causing the other workers to laugh until you pinned them with your patented Crazy-eye ™, at which point they scurried away except for that moron Seokjin who slung his arm around your shoulders jovially, “So why is my favorite girl doing the walk of shame?”

You glare and shrug his arm off, “None of your business.” 

“Dude its obs-you’re like a whole 4 hours late-and you are never late. So what happened? Anyone I know?”

“You’ll just call me an idiot if I tell you.”

“I swear on cake I won't.”

You raise an eyebrow before saying a name you never thought you’d say just to see him eat his words. “Min Yoongi.”

“Shut the front door! You’re an idiot”

“The cake is ashamed of you and asks that you keep your distance.” You say as you move to the back rooms to put away your belongings.

Not giving up, Seokjin follows you, even going so far as to hand you your apron, “Seriously? Didn’t he like-”

“Terrorize me to the point of moving? Then find me years later and evict me? Yep.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“You okay?” Seokjin asked worriedly, For the shit talking between the two of you, you smile to know he does really care.

“I have to be.”

“Did you at least use a condom?” He asks.

“Oh my god.”

“You really are an idiot. But don’t worry…you know I’ve got your back right? Well, we’ve got your back.”

You could only stare at Seokjin as your mind whirls through the consequences of last night, “It should be fine right?” you ask.

“Sure, cupcake. Keep telling yourself that”

There is a ding from the door and you see your brother Jungkook shuffles in with your other brother Namjoon, and giving Seokjin a look that clearly says “Keep your mouth shut if you want to live” you take a deep breath and head behind the counter to wash your hands, greeting them as you go.

“COFFEE. COFFEE NOW.” Namjoon grunts demandingly, taking a seat and burying her head in her hands,  while Jungkook adds a half-hearted “Please…and a raspberry jelly for me.”

“Rough night?” You ask as you pour the two men coffee and grab Jungkook her donut and slide it in front of them.

Jungkook grins, “Nah, Joon thought he could out drink me. He thought wrong.”

“Shhhhhhhhh!! You’re so loud,” hersed Namjoon, shoving a hand at Jungkook’s face and missing entirely.

You grin and speak extra loud, “Shouldn’t you know by now to let the kids drink and you go home and sleep?”

Namjoon just glares at you, “I have a gun.”

“I aint scared of you.”

The shop bursts into laughter as Namjoon buries her head in her arms on the counter, “Why do you hate me so much?” He whines.

“Mom likes you more, and I’m a petty bitch.”

Jungkook grins, “But she likes me most!”

Both you and Namjoon glare at him, “Shut up!”

Yoongi wakes up to an empty bed and he frowns, crawling out of bed and pulling on her boxers. He wanders around the house looking for you, hoping that you haven't run away and when he can’t find you, her heart sinks. Was he that awful that you would still run away from him even after what you had shared? And worse, what if he had gone too far this time?

He makes her way back to her room and grabs her phone, calling her secretary.

“Yo.” Answered Hoseok.

“Really that’s how you answer the phone? You do know that I am your boss right?”

“Debatable today.”

Yoongi rolls her eyes, “Anyways, I need you to find someone…”

“Well you know Imma need a little more…”

“Y/N. You remember her right?”

“You mean the girl you tortured in school because you didn’t have the balls to tell her how you lurrrrrrrved her.”

“I see you wish to die today.”

“No, not today. So you wish for me to find your wayward love?”

“Yeah.”

“Mandi’s shop.” Hoseok cheerfully replied, as if this should be common knowledge. 

“Oh yeah, great idea bring me some coffee please?”

“No, you idiot, Y/N works there. She is actually her partner” Hosoek irritatingly says matter of factly.

“The hell?! Why do you know this but I don’t?”

“Dude, seriously? You do know they were friends growing up and just because you made her run away by being a complete ass doesn’t mean they stopped being friends.”

“My best friend and my sister have been lying to me.” 

“It’s not lying when you never asked. But Yoongi…you should let her go. It’s been a long time and I know you had feelings but with how you treated her–“

"She was here.” Yoongi grunted, running a hand over her face as he stood in her closet trying to think of what to wear. What says “I come in peace”? Maybe he could get Hoseok to dress up as Spock and talk to Y/N before he does. 

“What? And you’re alive?”

“Yeah. We…um…she was gone this morning,” Yoongi sits down on her bed, running a hand through her hair.

"Oh…” and as realization hits, Hoseok intones sagely,” ...oh my god you’re fucking moron.”

“You know I can fire you.”

“Please bitch, I know all your deepest darkest secrets you ain’t gonna fire me.”

“Just…shit…what should I do?” Yoongi asks, finally letting go of her big bad boss act.

“Dude, I don’t know. You slept with her…maybe you should just…”

“I um…fucked up more than that…” He thinks about how you had felt, how he had felt...how absolutely perfect it had been for just one night, A flicker of fear strums through her heart at the thought that this was not salvageable at all. 

“No. no way. Our friendship is over.” Hoseok cracks from the other side of the phone.

“Just help me okay?” 

There was a long pause before he heard a heavy sigh, “Fine, but no games. She has a good thing going on and you-”

“I swear it's different this time!” Yoongi pleads. 

“Whatever. I should warn you though.”

“Warn me about what?”

“Her brothers.”

“Namjoon and Jungkook? We were old friends, what about them?”

“You were old friends until they found out how you treated her. And bonus points-they are both cops now. Partners even, so you should probably pray for your soul.”

With a groan, Yoongi finally gets up and begins to get dressed putting Hoseok on speakerphone. “I’m so dead.”  

“Yep,” affirms Hoseok, “So does that mean I can have your stuff?” 

Rolling her eyes and thinking he really needs a new assistant, Yoongi growls out“See you at the office.” only to hear Hoseok laughing before he hangs up the phone. 

Yoongi finishes getting dressed, and running a hand over her face as he contemplates this new information. You’d been right under her nose the entire time and everyone had kept it a secret. He guessed he deserved it though, he was a complete and utter ass to you. He also guesses it’s time to make it up to you and hopefully, you would forgive him and let him into your heart, where he belonged. After all, you’d always been in his.

2 months later

Yoongi stands outside her (former) sister’s shop watching as you serve your customers, and realizes sadly that it was the first time in a long time that  he’d really ever seen you smile. He wanted that smile for himself and himself alone, but he wasn’t sure how to get it. When he had remodeled your former apartment, expanding it through the two vacant units on either side of you, you just got mad at him for evicting you, when he was just redoing the apartment and you claimed it was far too large for you by yourself now. But that was the point wasn't it? He was hoping that somehow you would just...come back to him on your own and he wouldn’t really have to put any work in. Yoongi realizes then that he is an absolute dumbass.

After all, nothing he’d done so far had managed to make you smile at him or hell just give him the time of day and he was beyond frustrated. Couldn’t you see how hard he was trying for you?

Mandi pokes her head out of the shop interrupting his train of thought,

“What the hell are you doing here?” she snaps at him.

“Wow, do you greet all your customers like this?”

“Yoongi. Listen. Whatever it this is about now isn’t–”

Realization hits for the second time that morning, “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Mandi pauses, looking him up and down, “There’s nothing to tell if you already know.”

He could almost feel the metaphorical walls slamming down around him as Mandi went on guard. “Mandi!”

“No. Not about ther.”

“I’ve known for almost a month.”

“Then you should go know somewhere else.”  Mandi stepped outside, becoming a most effective blockade. If someone was to ever wage war against his sister, his money, hell, his entire fortune would be on Mandi.

“Listen, you’re my brother and I love you and I know you know what you did wrong, and really it's sweet you want to make amends but …Yoongi, sometimes things…”

“I slept with her.”

“Do you want a trophy?” Mandi snapped, her fists clenched, before she  shook her head, “you have five seconds or I’m opening ther door and I’m calling her brothers out here.”

“We didn’t use protection.”

“Well then I guess today you die you little fucking weasel.”

“I love her.”

That’s when he remembered his sister’s left hook and then the lights went out.

Mandi stomps into the store grabbing you by the arm and dragging you upstairs ignoring your protests, shoving you into the bedroom and giving you a look reserved for her son’s Taehyung and Jimin when they are acting up. “Stay.”

Mandi goes back downstairs and motions Namjoon and Kookie over, “Listen, I know you hate Min Yoongi with like the passion of 7 fiery suns but I need you to hold that rage in and help me get his ass inside.”

Namjoon was already up and out the door at the sound of Min Yoongi’s name, and seconds later was dragging a barely conscious Yoongi in by the collar. While Kookie held open the door, Namjoon made sure Yoongi purposely whacked his head on the door frame and when Mandi winced he gave her a look that clearly said “sorry not sorry” before dropping Yoongi on the shop floor like the sorry sack of shit he thought he was.

“I’m sorry folks,” Mandi announces, “due to my crazy family, the shop will be closing early.”

The patrons all scrambled out of the shop while Jungkook handcuffed Yoongi to a chair and dumped a cup of ice water on him.

Yoongi jerked back, fully awake now and met by 3 pairs of eyes. 3 very angry pairs of eyes. He shook his head and tried to move but found himself handcuffed to the chair and he gives Mandi a look that says “Really?”

“Kook uncuff him. Seriously. And you and Joon leave.”

“No.”

“Did I stutter?”

“Okay, but we get dibs if you decide to kill him.” Jungkook, grumbles as he undoes the handcuffs.

“I’m not going to kill him. Today.”

“Fine.”

Jungkook finishes unlocking the cuffs and Yoongi immediately rubs at his wrists and watches warily as Jungkook and Namjoon leaves the shop, rolling his eyes when Jungkook gives him the international sign for “I’m watching you” while Joon drew his thumb across his neck. They were dramatic as fuck, but then again he might just be dramatically fucked.

Mandi pulls up a chair and sits across from Yoongi and stares at him for several long moments until Yoongi breaks the silence, “Just say it.”

“Why?”

“It just happened like that.”

“Bullshit.”

Yoongi sighed, “I’ve grown up since then. I no longer want to pull her hair.”

“Clearly. And you didn’t just pull her hair, you did a lot worse.”

“Shouldn’t you be on my side?”

“I am fucking Switzerland.”

Yoongi couldn’t help the anger that swelled up and choked him, “Clearly not. You knew where she was all these years and you never said anything. This is why you never let me come to the shop then? You knew I was looking for her, that I wanted-”

“Of course,” interrupted Mandi. 

“Why?”

“Because you are an idiot who doesn’t know how to communicate. Look at what happened--when you did find her, your first action was to take her home. Who fucking does that shit?”

“You’re right, I was. I was cruel and spiteful. Keyword: was.”

“Bullshit. Taking away her home wasn’t because you were being spiteful. You wanted what she had. That’s called envy. She left because she wanted to live, and the only way she could was to leave. You made it like this. I almost lost my friend. So of course I kept it a secret.” Mandi sighed, rubbing her hand over her face. “Look I know. I know what y

our mom and dad did. How they treated us. We were mere points on a checklist of creating a picture perfect family. But you had no right-”

“I was stupid. You think I don’t know? That I don’t regret it? I love her. I always have.”

“Actions-”

“Speak louder than words I know. I’m trying to fix that now!”

Mandi closes her eyes, debating her next few words  "Can I trust you? That’s the-“ ”

“Yes. I swear I'll spend my life…”

“Doing what?” You interrupt, “Sorry, since you seem to be discussing me I couldn’t stay put,” you say to Mandi. “Yoongi I don’t want your money and if you are worried because we didn’t…,” you swallow before continuing with a brave face, “....I’ll be fine. but you really have to stop sending me presents. I don’t want them. Can’t you just stay…”

“Y/N I’m sorry. I was an ass.”

“Still an ass.” Mandi interrupts, “Look, you two clearly need to talk this out so I’m out. Come on Seokjin, let’s go see a movie.”

With that Seokjin and Mandi beat a hasty retreat leaving the two of you alone.

“Your jaw is swelling.” You say after noticing the blossoming bruise that marred his handsome face. Handsome? What the hell were you even thinking?

“Mandi hit me.”

“Why?”

“I told her what happened. She’s very protective of you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Y/N…that night…I shouldn’t have that.”

“I let you. It wasn’t just you alone.”

“Please, just listen. I’m sorry. For everything. And I’m sorry for not saying that when we met again. It's just…”

“It's just..what?” You questioned, meeting his eyes. 

“I don’t know. When I look at you I want you. You are so good and pure and you deserve the world. I wanted you to myself but I was scared…”

“Scared of?”

“You.”

“Me?” You scoff at the idea of anyone being afraid of you.

“Yeah,” Yoongi stood and walked over to you. “You had everything even though you had nothing. Brothers who worshiped you, a mother who did everything for you…what if I ruined that? What if my mother-”

“How would you ruin that?” You ask, finding patience from who knows where.

“I was messed up…and the older I got the worse…things got worse. You saw, you can’t pretend you didn’t. I took out my suffering on you because nothing good could possibly exist and you were just hiding your real nature. But you never retaliated. You kept reaching out to me over and over again. ”

“But I did retaliate.”

“By locking me out of my house after I took yours? Not really. I mean…I deserve far worse,” chucked Yoongi. He wanted so badly to touch you, to pull you into his arms and just...feel you. 

You stare at Yoongi. This broken version of Yoongi with tears in his eyes. Could you trust him? You wanted to give him a chance.

“Let’s….go on a date.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened, “What?”

“You like me right?”

“Well–I mean–I did when I was—I do”

“Take me on a date, final offer going in one–two..”

“Fine! I’ll take you on a damn date,” Yoongi smiles.

“No fancy shit tho. $100 limit.”

“I’ll take you on the best damn date of your life!”

“Good.”

Yoongi didn’t know why he was being snippy now, but as he left the shop he couldn’t help but do a little cheer when he got into his car. Hoseok rolled his eyes and politely ignored him.

Yoongi stood at the door of your apartment, and for the first time in his life he hesitated, hand poised to ring the doorbell, and then you swung open the door and suddenly the world stopped. You looked amazing. Your hair was curled, makeup accenting your eyes perfectly, wearing black skinny slacks, a hound’s-tooth patterned sweater over a white button down and pink heels. He took in the perfection that was you and thought, “She was made for me.”

And the fear was gone as he smiled at you and he took your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah let me grab my purse,” you say as you try to let go of his hand to grab the bag on the chair beside your front door but he wouldn’t let go. You couldn’t help the blush that blossomed over your cheeks as he stepped inside and grabbed the bag for you and waited for you to lock up so you both could leave.

He pulled you along, never letting go, until he reached his car and opened the door. It was only enough time for him to run around and get the car moving before he was locking fingers with you again.

“What’s up with you?” You smirk.

“Just…making up for lost time.”

“What?”

“I just…I should have been doing this for years now.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “So…are you always this cheesy?”

Yoongi’s eyes went wide, “I mean…I’m not…no…,” Yoongi stuttered and then stopped, “I guess I am cheesy it's just…I can tell you I’m sorry but…”

“Actions speak louder than words?”

“I see you have met my sister,” he joked softly, “And we’re here.”

“A movie? Really?”

“I always had wished to take you…”

Yoongi’s eyes stared into yours, “Yoongi…” you say timidly.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not her anymore you know? I grew up…you grew up…let’s leave it behind us and start fresh yeah?”

“What do you mean?”

You stick your hand out, “Hi, my name is Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

Yoongi stared at you you’d suddenly sprouted a third eye on your nose before awkwardly taking your hand and shaking it, “Min Yoongi…the pleasure is all mine.”

You can’t help but laugh at his stunned expression, not knowing he was just in shock from receiving your smile. To him, your smile in that moment could have powered a thousand suns. 

Yoongi was quiet but still took your hand and you entered the theater with a smile on your face, happy that things were getting better, that you could almost believe you had your first love back.

2 hours later.

“Yoongi,  why are you pouting?” You ask as you take his hand.

“Look no matter how I look at it, it's just not fair.”

“What’s not?”

“Mandi. Seokjin. They have spent years with you…years that should have been with me.”

“I thought we were moving forward.”

“But.”

You sighed. “Look. You want to know the truth?”

Yoongi stopped and stared at you, “yes.”

“Okay then.” You face him, “You crushed me in every way possible. You were my world. I followed you everywhere. I trusted you, and you were always there and then you weren’t. The night we got stuck in the cave I gave you my faith—but it also is and was the moment I gave my whole heart to you, willingly, without any doubt. And the next day when we were found…you stomped on it. And you continued to stomp on it. I cried so many tears everyday because I hoped that one day my hero would come back. But he never did. He became a villain.” You couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks, “And even through all that I still…” you sighed. “I can't do this Yoongi. I can't. I’m sorry,  I was wrong to try.” You turned on your heel and ran away, ignoring him yelling after you, you just ran until you couldn’t hear him anymore. 

And then you found the alcohol.

You sat at the outside bar drinking as you thought about the past two months. All the things you had done with Yoongi , and how disgusted you were with yourself for letting your old feelings come back so easily. You knew it wasn’t the right choice, but it was the one you wanted. You had decided to drown yourself in alcohol,  and you were on your third bottle when the object of your conflicting emotions, sat down across from you.

“Y/N.”

“Mmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“Drinking!” Your giggle turns to a frown when you hear the heavy sigh come across from you, “Are you judging me? It’s not nice to judge you know! “

“Why are you drinking Y/N?”

“Because,” you leaned forward, whispering conspiratively, “I’ve been bad.”

“Bad? How so?”

You sigh dreamily, a wistful smile playing upon your lips, “There’s this guy…”

“There always is.”

“Shhh! This is my story!” You shout.

“Sorry.”

“Where was I?” 

“Something about a guy…”

“SHHHHHH! So rude interrupting me! Anyways…I’m supposed to hate him but…” you thump your chest hard as tears prick your eyes, “But…”

“But what?”

“I can't…I remember him before…and the him that I remember…he’s still there…and all the warning alarms are going off and I’m so scared to love him but I…I think…”

“You think?”

You lay your head on the table, mumbling, “Think it’s too late…think I love him. Think it has always been too late for me. Even after all the bullshit…you see…he’s still here” You thump your chest hard and sigh as you feel the tears slide down your cheek to land on the table, “ I love him and I don’t want to…I didn’t mean too…”

“Mean to what?” 

“To love him, but…”

“You do.”

“Yeah” you whisper softly.

“Yoongi…” you can feel the man smile, you don’t know how you know but you do, “why do I have to love you?”

“You love me?” He asks, the hope wrapped in fear in his voice twisting your heart even more than all the past crap that had happened. You wanted to let it go. You wanted to love him. You can only nod your head as your eyes slide close, and you struggle against the darkness when you hear him whisper, “I love you too Y/N…I’m just scared…I’m not good enough…I was such an ass…and I know you said to let it go…but God Y/N…I should have treated you like a princess…because the truth is…”

Those words cause you to sit up, eyes squinting hard as you try to make out his face, “Yoongi?”

“Yeah?”

You lean forward and his face comes into focus, a smile spreads on your face and you lean forward to press your lips to his, softly at first, and then he responds, a hand sliding up your arm to cup your neck as you express to him what you can’t say in words. This was so much better than petty arguments and revenge pranks.  

You pull away, breathing heavy as you rest your forehead against his, “Yoongi,” you whimper, keeping your eyes firmly on the buttons of his shirt, scared to look up, scared to see the fear in his eyes. Does he not know?  “Can I…can I be yours?“ You ask in a voice so quiet it is almost lost in the noise of the world that surrounds you. 

"Can you forgive me?” The pain in his voice was sharp. “I forgive you.” You whisper into his mouth as you make promises with your lips.

He pulls away for a moment, and you lock eyes finally. “Then believe me when I say, I was always yours, and you were always mine.” 

“I was?”

The amount of disbelief in your voice causes Yoongi to tear up as he pulls you into his arms, “Kitten?”

“Yeah,” you say as you rest your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent.

This time it was his turn to ask, “Am I yours?”

“You always were Yoongi. I was just waiting for you to remember where home was.”

Yoongi places the softest of kisses on each of your eyelids, and then he kisses away your tears and finally his mouth was on yours, and the kiss was full of yearning. “Y/N.”

“Yes?” You ask, sad he had pulled away. 

“Don’t leave me again…I love you too.”

“Okay.”

[hannie-dul-set]

US, AGAIN | four.

SUMMARY. they say history repeats itself, but you’d like to disagree. you had to disagree. history changes, even if you had to force it. but when all your attempts to twist fate were met by nothing but the flashing recurrences of the past, what were you supposed to do?

or, wherein you try everything in your power to have nothing to do with na jaemin, but na jaemin wants nothing but you.

PAIRING. na jaemin x female! reader GENRE. college! au, historical! au, soulmate! au, past lives, forbidden love stuff, reincarnation, romance, drama, humor, angst, fluff, looots of flashbacks, this is an entire kdrama, very loosely inspired by the webtoon “see you in my 19th life” WARNINGS. (for this chapter only) swearing, night terrors, hospital mentions, passing out, the works hgdhjasf WORD COUNT. 5.1k

NOTE. I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG <///3 but life is life thank god we only have to go through this once unlike our dearest mc HJGASDJSF anyway!! lots of jaemin fluff here!! you’ll want to punch him in the face!! hope u enjoy <3

CHAPTER FOUR: why the sun sets and rises

(Running.

Through the winding branches that cut into the air, the silver lake, the jagged ground, the clouds in the wind at each and every shallow pant, you were running—

A gunshot.

—running until your legs gave away.)

You woke up in a cold sweat.

God.

Looking around, you noticed that it was far too early for you to be awake— the hazy light that barely slipped through the thin curtains, the desolate silence that seemed to have consumed your room whole, and the bedside digital clock down below you that said 6:21AM in big bold letters, indicating that you should be fast asleep especially after staying up at ungodly hours in the morning finishing up an assignment. But even after burying your head in between two of your pillows, you couldn’t even suffocate yourself into unconsciousness.

You groaned and jumped off of the top bunk.

When your feet landed on the floor, you had expected to see Seungah’s ghost of a face lying sideways on the bottom bunk, but all that met you was a small, neon orange sticky note laying soundly on her smoothed out pillow. ‘Had to leave early to the diner! Eat the breakfast I made you or else xoxo’, it said. You sighed.

There was no point mulling over the past when you had an entire future to take care of.

“Oh my gosh.”

Hong Nabi was in shock with what she saw when she arrived at the benches by the garden to work on your group assignment today. It was shocking to the point that she dropped all her binders and papers onto the pavement.

You sighed, sliding out of your seat to help her. She spared you a few, quick glances as the both of you were slouched on the floor, and he couldn’t help but bite her bottom lip in worry. The Y/N that was usually so cool, so put together, and so unbothered looked like she was casket ready. That, or ready to star in a Tim Burton animation.

“Is it Halloween today..?”

“Let’s just get this thing started,” you groaned, finally finished cleaning things up and you were now back onto your seat. Nabi sat right in front of you, organizing her now jumbled up material. She wanted to ask if you were okay— but would that be offensive considering that you were very clearly not? Still, she opened her mouth to speak, but was scared into silence when you suddenly cursed out loud. “Since when did this become a paired project? Where the hell are they?”

Nabi pressed her lips together, looking around. “I’m not sure.”

You still had around two weeks more until the presentation, but that didn’t mean that they could slack off as much as they wanted. In a fit, you grabbed your phone from your sling bag, exasperatedly tapping on the fragile screen that Nabi was almost sure that you were going to break it, but before you managed to burst a vein, an incoming sound of noises and laughter approached your ears.

Boys will be boys, but you weren’t having any of that shit.

“Yah,” the moment Jeno, Renjun, and Donghyuck showed up at your table as if nothing was wrong, you decided to smack the nearest head with a rolled up sheet of stapled paper. “Didn’t we agree to start at nine?”

“Yah,” Donghyuck snatched the weapon from you, his other hand focused on caressing the spot on his head that you’d just every so gently smacked. “Don’t you ‘yah yah’ me, missy. Did you forget that you’re younger than us?”

If only he knew.

“Is that so? You should grow a sense of responsibility, then. It doesn’t take fifty fucking years.”

With that, you let out a huff and swung your laptop open.

The rest of the people occupying the table exchanged concerned glances as they shuffled to find seats of their own. They haven’t known you for long, but this type of temperament from you was arguably out of the ordinary. Even when Donghyuck would strike a chord too dangerously, you wouldn’t snap at him— today, you weren’t your usual self, and they all mutually agreed in silence that they were going to tread carefully if they still wanted their heads attached to their necks.

When the sounds of your fingers clicking against the keyboard stopped, they felt their hearts stopping, as well.

You looked up from the laptop screen, proceeding to look around, closed your eyes, and then breathed out. “Where’s Jaemin?”

At that moment they all flipped their phones open, scrolling, clicking, and typing before they can taste any more of your unraveled temper. You had to admit, you were feeling a little guilty for being such a bitch. A part of it was yes, sleep deprivation, shitty nightmares, and a whole truck load of stress can really take a toll on your sanity, but the other part was voluntary.

Jeno looked up, the first person who managed to pinpoint Jaemin’s whereabouts. “He just texted. He says he’s running— oh, there he is.”

There he was indeed, a couple of feet away from where you all were. Once you confirmed that he wasn’t absent, you turned back to continue working, but the rest of them continued to stare at Jaemin, who was barely hanging onto his dear life, sweating and panting. And as they all watched the poor boy breathlessly running towards the table, they all thought of the same thing with one mind, heart, and soul.

Na Jaemin was a dead man.

He pulled up right in front of you, hunched over breathless with his hands on his knees. He stood up and promptly apologized. “Ahh, so sorry for being late. I had to stop by somewhere and there was traffic. I’m really—”

“I didn’t ask about your personal business,” you hummed, not even looking at him. Everyone, not only Jaemin, flinched at your explicit coldness. “Did you get the files that we need?”

He looked at you. You weren’t looking at him, but you knew he was looking at you.

“...Yeah. Hold on.”

As if the mood wasn’t already shit earlier, it actually turned into absolute horse crap after Jaemin arrived. It wasn’t his fault, really, but circumstance after circumstance didn’t exactly paint the prettiest picture of him. When the clock finally struck eleven in the morning, everyone except you all released a synchronous sigh. “We’re done today, right?” Renjun asked, and you responded with a quick nod, noticeably a lot more mellow than earlier.

Nabi stood up and started fixing her things. “I’ll send everything later to you tonight, Y/N,” she smiled at you.

“Yeah, sure,”’ you hummed, nodding. “Thank you.”

The four boys froze. Why were you being nice to her? Of course, their complaints were verbalized into nothing more than silent whines, groans, and grumbles that easily flew above your ears, Jaemin being a lot more quiet about voicing his complaints than the rest despite taking most of your attacks.

Still, even if you were being particularly thorny to him, he thought it would be a good idea to speak out just as you were about to leave. “Do the both of you have any classes after this? We were planning on getting lunch together,” he said. “Would you like to join? My treat.”

You looked at him. There was a polite smile on your face. Evidently forced.

“No, thanks.”

Donghyuck let out a genuine gasp.

“Did she just—” he stammered, switching his sight back and forth from Jaemin to you. “Did she just turn down a free meal offer?”

“She did,” you sighed, rolling your eyes as he continued to gawk at you. You picked up your heavy bag from the bench seat. “I gotta get going. Have fun, you guys.”

And you let them just like that, with five pairs of eyes trained at the back of your head until they finally lost sight of you.

For someone like you, the bulletin boards at the bus stops were like a gold mine. A gold mine of part-time jobs just waiting to be filled. There were flyers haphazardly plastered onto the board, all in different colors and different fonts. You bit a chunk off of the granola bar that served as your lunch for today, eyes meticulously scanning the available offers, a few flyers already wedged in between your armpit.

“Hair salon assistant— can’t do that. Diner waitress— a hard maybe. Already have a restaurant job pending, my shifts might clash. Library assistant? Alright, I need to check it out further, though. What about a movie— oh!— oh my god, you scared me.”

“What are you doing here, Y/N?”

Sooah suddenly appeared beside you, looking up as she clutched her backpack straps. You let out a sigh of relief upon the realization that it was just her.

“Fancy seeing you here, cadet,” you hummed, folding the neatly folding the few flyers that you had and shoving into your sling bag along with the emptied granola bar wrapper. “Are your classes over?”

“Mhm! I’m waiting for my mom to pick me up.”

“Aren’t you honored to spend time with me as you wait?”

You let out a chuckle, sitting down on the wooden seat, patting down the empty spot beside you, and Sooah happily hopped to sit down right away. Peeling off one of the flyers stuck onto the board, you decided to fold it— once, twice, countless more times until the flat, square piece of paper was now shaped into a lotus flower. Sooah beamed in amazement.

“Y/N,” she started, and you dropped the little paper flower onto her tiny hands. She placed it on her lap before looking up to you, large eyes hinted with curiosity. “The story you told us last time— was it a true story?”

You suddenly felt a chill in the air.

“...Why do you ask?”

“Oh, well,” she mused. “My mommy is a Korean Literature teacher at my school, but she teaches a grade above me. Sometimes, I’d go through her stuff to read some stories that I haven’t read in my class, and the other day—”

Uh oh.

After living for twelve whole lifetimes and currently going through your thirteenth, there was always this feeling that haunted you all throughout, a feeling that you were all too familiar with. It was gnawing, grinding, and chewing up the bottom most part of your gut. A warning sign for something bad to come.

You were definitely feeling that right now.

“—I found the same story as the one you told us, big sis.”

Yep. It was never wrong, and it never will be. You bit down your bottom lip.

“And I found something interesting!” oh, how much more must anxiety drown you, but Sooah seemed so excited that you didn’t have the heart to stop her. You raised a brow, urging her, and she smiled brightly. “You said you don’t remember the girl’s name, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Y/N! She has the same name as you!”

Of fucking course.

“The last name is different, though—” she added as an afterthought. “She was Song Y/N, and you’re not. Still. Isn’t it really cool?”

Not cool at all. You wanted to scream, maybe cry a little and lose a generous chunk of your mind, because as far as you knew, there had never been an instance where you had heard of this story being shared to the public— to an entire class, nonetheless. It shouldn’t matter, right? It wasn’t your life anymore. Just an old, tragic tale passed on from mothers to their children as a bedtime story.

But somehow, it made you feel vulnerable.

How many more people knew about this?

“But, sis. You’re kind of a dummy, though. How could you forget someone’s name when it’s the same as yours?”

Sooah questioned, tilting her head, but it eventually washed pon her that you weren’t looking all too well. You had your lips splayed into an evident frown, worry creasing your forehead, which she could not at all get. Were you okay?

“Did you finish reading all of it?”

You asked after a bout of silence. Sooah shook her head in response. “No, not yet,” she huffed. “My mom caught me making a mess out of her things and scolded me.”

That’s good, you thought. At least she didn’t make it to the end— that would only complicate things. After a second of deliberation, you figured that this would be the best move if you played your cards right.

“Sooah,” you started. “Do you think your mom will let me borrow that story?”

The next day, your classes were all condensed into the afternoon— a deliberate decision to allow yourself to recharge in bed for the entire first half of the day.

But right now it was eight in the morning, yet you were already busying yourself inside the campus.

No, you didn’t have a group meeting today, neither did you have any prior commitments needed to be accomplished here in school, but you figured after not having a single fucking blink of sleep last night thanks to Sooah’s revelations yesterday, you might as well head to school early to apply for the part-time job at the library. Only one problem— where was the library?

It was eight in the morning. You had been here since seven-thirty. Not a single bookshelf in sight. You opted to just give up and mold yourself into the floor because you couldn’t even ask anyone for directions because no one was there.

Well. Almost no one.

You had just passed by a single living soul earlier as you were trudging around the bottom floor like a zombie, but you completely missed him. Na Jaemin caught your disheveled figure marching through the hallways earlier, evidently lost, as he left the faculty office with a steaming hot cup of coffee in his hands. He immediately brightened upon seeing you— as if his bloodstream was directly charged with caffeine, but he didn’t come around to approaching you until now. He couldn’t get the timing.

Even now, as he discreetly tailed behind you without your knowledge, he didn’t know when was the appropriate time to give you a simple ‘hello’. He pressed his lips together, taking in a sharp breath through his nose, and decided screw it— you wouldn’t even be happy to see him no matter the timing.

He picked up his pace and sounded from right behind you.

“Morning, group leader.”

You stopped, swiveling your heels around, and he was met with your grimacing face.

As expected. He gave you a blinding smile.

“How are you?”

“My morning is shit, thank you very much,” you spat. “Even more now, after seeing you.”

Ouch.

Jaemin knew that you weren’t exactly fond of him, and he’d spent too many hours wondering why. Maybe you just disliked him without bearing much of a reason. Some people were like that, but he didn’t hold it against you. He still pressed on with a smile.

And it irritated you.

(You believed that it was irritation, or made yourself believe. Yeah, let’s go with irritation.)

“Now, what do you want?” you crossed your arms, shifting your weight to one leg as you looked at him with exasperation. “You’re definitely not here to ask me about our assignment, right? I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I might as well say it to your face for your own good.”

You roughly shoved a finger to his chest, mustering up not a glare— but a plain look of disinterest.

“I don’t like you.”

Jaemin simply looked at you.

“You don’t like me.”

“No matter what you try to do, that won’t ever—wait, what? What the fuck?” you had to double take, expression suddenly morphing into a comical confusion, which Jaemin found cute, but of course he couldn’t say that out loud. He settled with the same smile as earlier, which you found a little more irritating as much as it was conflicting this time around. Within a second of silence, you felt heat slowly rising and you felt it slowly getting to your head. “You’re just gonna take that...as that?”

He let out a hum, shrugging. “I can’t dictate how you feel, can I?”

You gawked at him.

“You’re not even gonna ask why? Not even gonna protest?”

“Do you want me to?” he leaned forward, face a little closer to yours, smile a little more irritating than before, the heat growing a little more prominent than ever, your grasp on your consciousness becoming a little more hard to hold than earlier. You felt yourself getting caught in a stammer. “I would, if you want me to.”

Fuck this shit and fuck it completely.

“Where are you going?”

“None of your business,” you stormed off before you could find yourself getting caught inside a heatwave, breathing out long, fervent breaths to calm yourself down, the dizzying heat slowly getting to your head making you woozy. It would be a bad idea to even turn around and look at him. “I’d appreciate it if you don't follow me.”

Jaemin frowned when he saw your back yet again. He felt like this was the only thing he’d seen from you— your back perpetually facing him without any hope of you even turning around to spare him a quick glance, but he didn’t want to go against your wishes. He wasn’t planning on following you. But when you suddenly collapse on the floor a few feet away from him—

Thud.

—what else was he supposed to do?

(“Your Highness.”

It was without question that he’d answer your call sparing not even a second to waste with those gentle eyes of his, and this time was no different. The only difference being the quirk of his lips— pursed, pouting. He stepped away from the bush of azaleas, and stepped closer to you.

“I thought I told you not to call me that anymore,” he huffed, languidly dropping beside you on the stone bench, taking your hands into his with an earnest glimmer. “Say it. I want to hear you. Please?”

It was impolite to laugh at the prince— a punishable crime by itself. You were fortunate that he liked you enough.

“Your Highness,” you hummed. His shoulders drooped down, visibly dampening, but he shook his head with a newfound resolve and instead lended all of his attention to you, instead. “It is without saying that the very breath you take is incomparable to any person on this land—”

Your gaze darted upwards, looking at him.

“—but why do you choose to come see me everyday in the garden? Even when I am not around?”

He was still for a moment, fazed and the littlest bit taken aback, but not a second too long for you to spare any worry. A newfound smile playing on his lips, he lifted up your hands that he was holding, pressing a tender kiss on your knuckles.

“Why does the sun rise in the east and set in the west every single day?”

He looked at you, continuing.

“Just because it was made that way.”)

“Daegang.”

The whisper that you sounded in your state of unconsciousness caught Jaemin’s ears as he carried you to a vacant room inside the campus hospital. He looked down at you, your voice as clear as day despite the hoarseness of it, peeling himself away from your closed eyes, lashes fluttering above your cheeks before he could stumble over his own feet.

When he gently dropped you on to the bed, the mattress sinking underneath your weight, his windpipes nearly closed, a choking noise escaping the moment he felt you tug him down by the sleeve of his shirt, but he maintained his composure. He dropped your sling bag onto the bedside table, taking notice on the colorful piece of paper peeking out of the bag’s zipper mouth, a huff of a smile when he closed it up. Even you can be a little disordered, sometimes, he wondered in amusement as he gazed down on you.

Jaemin let out a huff of breath, dropping down the chair placed beside your bed, and he pulled out his phone to send a few messages here and there. An hour passed. He noticed you stirring underneath the sheets.

“Ah, you’re awake!”

Maybe you were, maybe you weren’t. You couldn’t tell if the blurred out silhouette of the face you have grown to both hate and love was a mere figment of your memories, or if he was actually real. There was the temptation brought about by your disorientation— to stretch your arm out to his face just to make sure, but you were lucky that your flimsy consciousness came at just the right time before you were to do anything regretful.

“Ugh.”

“You’ve been out for over an hour. Maybe you should just skip your remaining classes today,” at that point you were sure he was real. Na Jaemin had worry laced all over his voice, expression, and posture. It wasn’t a sight welcome to your peace of mind when you had just woken up after passing the fuck out. “What happened? Did you not get enough sleep? Did you skip breakfast? I asked Jeno to buy some food just in case you wake up and I’m not here, but you were unconscious for longer than I expected.”

“I’m fine, I’ll just—”

A regretful action. You tried to stand up, but all that happened was you falling pathetically back onto the bed.

“...”

“Don’t push yourself, Y/N,” Jaemin sighed, tucking you back in and placing a hand on your forehead, and by god you could hear the alarm bells ringing in your ears. “I checked earlier. It doesn’t seem like you have a fever. Oh? You’re starting to heat up, maybe you actually do—”

“I don’t!”

Was it possible to voluntarily pass out?

You threw the blanket over your head.

It was fortunate that he didn’t decide to press on, and instead he just left you alone underneath your makeshift tent to calm the sudden blazing of your face. Did he know that you were embarrassed? Oh god, did he know that it was because of him? Not that it was, of course, but it wasn’t unlikely for him to assume that he was the cause of your sudden temperature rise. It would be much better for him to believe that you did have a fever. Fuck, you should have just told him that you were sick.

“Knock knock,” outside of your blanket shield, you felt something lightly pressed at the side of your head, prompting you to peek outside, just enough for your eyes to be exposed. When you turned around, you were met by a box of Orion Choco Pie, just one of the few snacks that he had brought for you. “Here, have this. Eat.”

You blankly stared at the red box.

“What are you waiting for?”

“Leave it. I’ll eat once you leave.”

“No can do, missy,” Jaemin clicked his tongue, and without your consent, grabbed your nearest hand and opened it into a palm, placing the far too large box on top of it. “I have to make sure that you actually finish it.”

He was resilient.

Much like someone else, you grumbled, opening the packaging and stealing one of the cakes nestled inside. He had a satisfied smile on his face— almost like a proud parent watching his four year old daughter writing her name for the first time. You wanted to throw the damned snack to his face, but voted against the act and took a bite from it instead. “Fine. But for your information, I might have passed out because I barely got any sleep last night, so stop wasting your worries.”

“That doesn’t make things any better,” he said. “How am I supposed to stop worrying after hearing that? You should take care of yourself, Y/N.”

“I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

“I’m not buying it. I have to make sure that you’re getting enough sleep every day.”

“What the fuck? Do you think you’re my mom, or something?”

“No, what the hell? Don’t make things weird,” He grimaced, looking at you in disbelief. Holy fuck. You nearly broke out into a fit, if you were being honest. Na Jaemin who was usually all smiley and kind was looking at you with an expression that you were sure his facial muscles didn’t even have the knowledge to conjure. His next words were nothing more than a low grumble. “How can she think I want to be her mom when I like her? Jeez.”

The choco pie that you’d been eating threatened to climb back up your throat.

“Wh— What the fuck?”

“What?” Jaemin replied naively. “One more time? Should I repeat it? Y/N, I like—”

“Okay, okay, I got it the first time, please—!”

Dear lord, he was going to be the death of you. You took in a long, sharp, painful breath.

“I get it.”

Jaemin looked at you with a small smile. He didn’t seem like he was going to continue teasing, so you quickly scared down the remaining chocolate snake inside the box so that you could slip away from him as soon as possible. That wasn’t the best idea, though, because the choco pie almost ended up going down the wrong throat and the guy was sure to freak out over it. Luckily you managed to get away with forcing it down and having Jaemin only looking at you with a minimal amount of concern.

It was time to get the fuck out of here.

“Thank you for the food, Jaemin, but I need to get going,” he didn’t even get the chance to say anything, but you were already on your feet, ready to set out to the door. You looked back at his frozen stature before reaching out for the door handle. “I’ll pay you back some other time.”

You bowed politely. Jaemin had only gotten back to his senses once he’d realized that he couldn’t see your face anymore, only the back of your head— a sight that he’s used to seeing, a reminder of where he stood. He scrambled to his feet and took off after you.

“Wait, you should drink water first! And take these with you! Y/N—”

Shit. He didn’t want you to leave yet. Not when he’s finally had a proper conversation with you. The two of you were already out in the hallway, the glimpse of light from the heavily clouded sky leaking through the windows and coloring the white walls and floor with an out of place brightness and at one point the light stuck on you. It was difficult to match your pace— staying not too far behind, not right beside you, never ahead of you. He swallowed.

Jaemin felt bad about pulling this, but he couldn’t think of any other way to make you stay.

“Daegang.”

You froze on the spot.

There was a heavy weight anchoring Jaemin’s conscience, falling even heavier as you slowly turned around to face him. It fell to the bottom of his stomach the moment he caught your expression.

“How—” you stammered. “Where did you get that name?”

He pressed his lips together tightly, a considerable distance between the both of you as he averted his eyes. “You muttered it earlier while I was carrying you.”

“C—carrying?”

How else would he have hauled you over to the campus hospital? But an obvious fact such as that was still enough to dumb your IQ a couple of notches down. You would have been fine if he didn’t mention it and leave you in your blissful ignorance, but he just had to drill the existence of that fact that you were in his fucking arms when you had sworn to be a piece of shit to him.

The heat was rising to your head again just like earlier.

“Ah.”

You heard Jaemin utter a sound from a few steps in front of you— a light grumble, you’d assumed, but you weren’t entirely sure— and it was at that moment that you’d realized how freaking awkward the distance between the both of you was. Were you social distancing?

His hollow sigh and evident pout threw all of those meager thoughts out the window.

“Is he the reason why I can’t get close to you?

What the hell does he mean?

“An ex you can’t over?”

You broke into a coughing fit. Jaemin instantly ran over to you in panic, patting your back to help appease the violent coughs, but in reality he wasn’t of any help at all because his palm was barely touching you. “Holy fuck”—cough—“oh god. I guess— I guess you can say that...?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled from behind you. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. It must be a sensitive topic.”

“If you knew that it was touchy then why bring it up in the first place,” you shot him a glare, looking back, but it was less threatening and more questioning. You couldn’t bring yourself to get mad at him at this point. He stood there in blatant guilt, his expression, stature, and demeanor without any intention of hiding it all. This was why you couldn’t get mad at him. Jaemin was transparent.

You weren’t sure if it was just his nature or if it had something to do with you.

You wouldn’t know what to do if it was the latter.

His lips finally parted after a moment of silence to answer you— even if you hadn’t expected an answer in the first place.

“I didn’t know how else to make you talk to me a little longer.”

You didn’t know what to do, at all.

Jaemin’s cheeks were stained with a shade of pink and fuck— you could see in his eyes that were looking at you, trying not to look at you, that he was bearing all the sleeves of his heart to you without an ounce of regret, but a euphemism of the bright red color that he was trying to hide.

God.

Why did you have to meet him in this life?

“Why?” you voiced, quiet. “Why do you like me so much? You don’t even know me that well, and I’m not even in any way nice to you.”

He didn’t answer.

“So, why?”

For a moment, Jaemin kept quiet, as if waiting for the pink to fade from his cheeks before doing anything, but it never did. Even when his lips stretched into a closed smile, his eyes crinkling and showing the stars that weren’t in the sky, he was still tinged with that soft, powdery color.

He didn’t wait. He didn’t wait for you to speak when he left— when he left right after saying two words that stretched inside your mind until the sun set in the west and the skies turned pink.

“Just because.”

<prev | MASTERLIST | next>

TAGLIST. @danishmiilk​ @wownajaemin​ @kkakkdugi​ @jccv​ @bat-shark-repellant​ @kiri-ah​ @huanginjoon​ @sehunniepot​ @lvingjaem​ @hiddenzen @lanadreamie​ @w0nni3wrld​ @dnyls​ @doderyscoffee​ @seungstarss​ @patchi-chi​ @marklexleaf​ @thorscrown​ @mieohmy​ @lvoejimin​ @viastro​ @dejvns​ @junglewoos​ @pewpewpwe00​ @unknown5tar​ @chezzontop​ @leejunini​ @lixseu​ @yunoyeol​ @42hyuck​ @keemburley​ @sungchannel @charm-art @eyyyyyyyow @nshitae​ @lolibaaae​ @colpen​ @juyeo-eon @deliciouslyyellow​ @nct-writers​ @czennienet​ @neowritingsnet​ @kpopscape​​

© hannie-dul-set, 2021

[emeraldspiral]

Okay, two more fic ideas I’ll never write;

Fic 1:

Heavy asks Medic to drive him to the airport the day he leaves for Siberia and insists they get there 6 hours early. Medic agrees, they say their farewells, and he returns to his car. Unbeknownst to Medic, Heavy hid a love letter in Medic’s driver side visor and enclosed a ticket to Alaska, from where Heavy intends to take a private plane to the undisclosed location of his family home. If Medic isn’t interested, they never have to see each other again. But if he feels the same way Heavy does about him, there’s an open invitation to come with him to Siberia.

Unfortunately, the letter gets dislodged and ends up under the front seat without Medic noticing. By the time Medic finds it, he has only an hour to hastily talk Scout into bird sitting for him (as he complains that Soldier’s already asked him to help him move out of Merasmus’s castle) grab his passport, pack a small bag, and race through traffic to the airport. Medic doesn’t make it and the plane leaves without him and the next flight won’t get him to Alaska in time for him to find Heavy before he disappears into the Siberian wilderness. Heavy is heartbroken, taking Medic’s absence as a rejection, and Medic is devastated to have missed his chance with the man he loves.

Six months later, Medic apologizes for missing the flight and confesses to Heavy that he took the job with TFC in the hopes that it would somehow lead them back to one another.

Fic 2:

The boys are shooting the shit and Scout offhandedly asks if anyone on the team had to pick one of the other guys to date, who would they choose? Most of the team flatly refuse to answer, but Demo and Soldier decide to be good sports and say if they had to date a guy they’d date their best pal (each other). They then try to coax Heavy to pick a guy, but Scout interrupts that everyone already knows he’d pick Medic. To everyone’s surprise, Heavy says that he would actually choose Engineer, because as much as he likes Medic as a friend, he doesn’t think he’d make a good boyfriend. Medic asks what makes him think he isn’t boyfriend material and Heavy explains that he seems like he’d get too wrapped up in his work and wouldn’t be interested in the frivolities of romance. Medic takes offense and insists that he can be just as passionate and devoted to someone he fancies as he is to science and proceeds to list a few way too specific examples of romantic things he enjoys (drinking champagne in a bubble bath for two, candlelit dinners, silently enjoying each other’s company as they read together on the couch until they fall asleep on top of each other). Engineer tries to diffuse the situation by saying Heavy and Medic are both fine gentlemen and he’d be lucky to have either one of them, then promptly changes the subject.

At night, Heavy thinks about the appealing pictures Medic painted of what it would be like to date him and wonders if he wasn’t just a little bit jealous when he chose Engie instead of him. The next day he tests the waters by negging Medic with continued skepticism over his self-professed romanticism. When Medic gets frustrated, Heavy dares him to prove how romantic he is by taking him out on a date.

Medic pulls out all the stops to show Heavy that he can be romantic as hell, including thoughtful personalized gifts and activities that thoroughly convince Heavy that Medic genuinely cares for him. Heavy ends up totally smitten, but when he kisses Medic at the end of the night, Medic becomes flustered and tries to brush it off by gloating that he proved him wrong by seducing him. Heavy insists that Medic wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to impress him and make him feel special if he were just trying to win an argument and Medic realizes that Heavy is right; he was jealous of Engie and did want to be his boyfriend for real.

And then they fuck.

[pterodactylterrace]

Guys Like You Chapter 6

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 6

Chapter Summary: More of a filler chapter, not much Henry, I’m sorry.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, pregnancy, poor self image, bad coping mechanisms, low self esteem.

{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5}

"I already told you, Faye! I don't want anything to do with this!"

"So because I want to keep my babies, you're leaving me? Is that what you're trying to tell me, David?"

"Yes! Shit, I knew you were dumb, but seriously!"

"Excuse me?"

"Are you deaf too, whore? How do you even know I'm the one that knocked you up? You've slept with just about every guy in town!"

"Get the fuck out."

"Don't come crying to me later! You're nothing without me! No one is ever going to want you. Especially once you have kids. Who the hell wants used goods? Have fun living a life of regret!"

Faye jerked awake, her head spinning as she tried to catch her bearings. Did David really leave her just like that? Sure he wasn't the greatest, but he had never lashed out like that before. At least not where anyone else could witness it.

No. David's gone. He has been gone for almost four years now. New life. Starting over. It's all in the past now.

Have to get the baby up before the sitter comes. Work is coming up soon. Life goes on.

"Briar, what are you doing on the floor?" Faye chuckled, crouching down next to her daughter, curled up on her pillow by her bed.

"I'm a puppy." Briar yawned in explanation, holding her arms up to be lifted, promptly licking her mother's cheek as soon as she was up.

"Briar, we talked about licking people."

"I'm not Briar, I'm puppy."

"Ok then, puppy, no licking people. Now what do you want for breakfast?"

"Puppy food."

"Cereal it is."

Feed the toddler, quick shower, get dressed, throw her hair up away from her face, wait for the baby sitter, hugs and kisses goodbye, then off to work. The usual routine she had settled herself into.

Feed the baby, because she's hungry and she comes first.

Shower, because she probably has some sort of mystery goo on her from the toddler.

Get dressed, avoid the mirror.  No one wants to be reminded of how much they've changed. The softness she wasn't used to around her lower stomach, hips and thighs. Her breasts no longer as perky as they used to be. The stretchmarks competing with her tattoo's for attention.

Then, the hardest part of the day. "Ok, Briar, Mrs. Anderson is here. Mommy has to go to work. I love you."

"I love you too, Mommy." Briar responded, hugging her mother tight and kissing her cheek before she was sat back down.

"Have a nice day, Miss Warren."

"I hope she's not too much to handle."

"Never is."

Some days, Faye likes to pretend she's ok. Like she has a handle on things. Like she knows what she's doing and not just blindly stumbling through her life while trying to do right by her daughter.

Other days, she would absently push her sleeves up and her eye would catch on the black lines decorating her forearm, just below her elbow. Some days she's reminded that life is a bitch, and you can't always get what you want. On those days she tried to stay out of her own head, though that rarely worked.

She could slap on a smile with the best of them, but she could never force it to reach her eyes. Her face always remained an open book, free for anyone to read. The past creeps up on you. There's nothing you can do to stop it some days. On a bad day, the ghosts of the past will haunt your mind, echoing the worst days of your life into the void of your shattered heart.

"No one is ever going to want you!"

"You're nothing without me!"

"Who wants used goods?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Warren. There was nothing we could do."

Over and over on a seemingly never ending loop, reminding her of the darkest times in her life.

Why would anyone want her? She's not the same hot twenty six year old she used to be. She was soft. She was saggy. She would never be as attractive as she used to be. Anyone in their right mind would turn around and run once they realized how much she had let herself go.

Days like today were best spent keeping people at a distance. Tell them some story about being tired. Avoid anyone that is going to call her out on her obvious lie. Therein lies the problem with dying your hair obnoxious colors. Among a sea of blonde and brunette, powder blue tends to stick out and make it almost impossible to vanish.

Lie your way out of it. Survive another day. Tomorrow might not be better, but at least it won't be the same.

"Mommy, you're back!" The sweetest sound she could hear all day.

"I always come back, my little love." Faye assured, kissing her daughter's head.

Need to care for the baby. She comes first. She deserves the world. Play time. Dinner time. Bath time. Story time. Bed time. The same after work routine she had established months ago when she decided to drop everything and run.

Her daughter thought the world of her. She would do anything to see her smile. She would wear the stupid costume. She would pretend to be a horsey. She would let her daughter use her as a jungle gym. She would make the same dinner again for the third night in a row for her.  So what if she soaked the bathroom floor during bath time? She was a mermaid, and she wanted to show off her tail. Story time, always an adventure with her imaginative little girl. What world would they find themselves in today? Dinosaurs? Princesses? Mythology? A rhyming book?

Ah, yes of course. Her current favorite, the book about the dinosaur cleaning his room. She was a girl obsessed with dinosaurs at the moment.

"Mommy, where's my Papa?" Briar asked, staring intently down at the page depicting a mother and father watching the dinosaur throw away paper scraps.

"Don't worry about him, sweetheart. He wasn't a nice man." Faye explained, resting her cheek on her daughter's head.

"Can I have a new Papa?"

"Maybe someday, sweetheart."

"Can Spider-man be my new Papa?"

"Why do you want Spider-man to be your new Papa?"

"He's my boyfriend!"

"That's not how it works, silly. If he's your boyfriend, he can't also be by boyfriend! Pick another hero!"

"Batman!"

"Well, he is rich." Faye mused, Briar giggling happily. "Now it's time for bed, my love."

"Ok, Mommy. I love you!"

"I love you too, Briar." Faye whispered, kissing her forehead. The nightlight was switched on and the door was left cracked open, just in case. Now for her seldom used free time.

Should she sketch some more? Finish that painting she started forever ago? Ever since she started a "real" job, her art had fallen by the wayside. She was too drained to do much after work and caring of her daughter.

Maybe some drawing will lift her spirits and keep the nightmares at bay tonight. But what to draw? Not in the mood for still life. Brain too fried for something straight from her imagination. Her usual model was sleeping, and her last few self portraits had been a serious blow to her ego. She just drew what she saw in the mirror. Then, when she was finished, she decided she should have worn more clothing before she drew herself. What was supposed to boost her confidence and empower her as a woman instead left her wondering when exactly she developed that roll when sitting in that position.

"Fuck it. I'm drawing a moose." Faye grumbled to herself, turning the page from her self portrait to a blank sheet. Half an hour later when she was trying to remember what a moose's antlers looked like, she finally picked up her phone. Seven unread messages? That seems like a lot. When was the last time she looked at her phone? Oh yeah, when she got home, five hours ago.

All from one person. So she wasn't ignoring everyone at least. Seven messages, all from Henry. Shit. That's not good.

Are you ok?

You seemed off on set today

You didn't even talk to me

Did you at least make it home alright?

Can you send me a sign of life?

I'm sorry if I upset you or something. Can you please talk to me? I'm genuinely worried.

Please?

Well, fuck. Here she was playing unicorn apocalypse with her daughter, and this poor guy was worrying himself to death.

Sorry, I was drawing a moose

Perfect way of saying "I wasn't ignoring you" while also avoiding his persistent questions about her wellbeing. The good old 'drawing a moose' excuse. Works every time.

I think your moose aged me by ten years. Are you ok?

Just had a bad day

Anything I can do to help?

Squeeze me until I stop struggling and my spine snaps

That's called 'murder' Miss Warren

I knew there was a name for it

Is there anything I can do for you that involves less prison?

Nah, if you're not going to take me out, then I'm not interested

I'm not going to take you out by murder. I will take you out on a date.

Faye froze, staring at her phone. He was just playing around, like he always did. No way he was serious. Henry liked to flirt, and she wasn't about to throw herself at him over a joke. She had more dignity than that. So how does she respond? She can't just ignore him, and taking forever to respond is going to give the impression that she was freaking out over what he said.

She was completely freaking out over what he had said, but he didn't need to know that. Was he just looking to get laid or something? Probably. He had gotten pretty close the last time he had been over. There's a difference between dating and screwing, though. He was probably just looking for someone to fuck while waiting for a woman worth his time to come along. Faye was broken out of her thoughts by her phone going off again, alerting her to a new message. Didn't he know she was busy having an existential crisis?

If you're free on Sunday you can come over and show me that moose your working on

*you're

Smart ass

Sunday?

I'll have to see if Mrs. Anderson can watch Briar

Bring her along. She keeps asking me about Kal

Pretty on brand for her

Sunday?

Sunday.

Sunday. What to wear on Sunday? He was probably looking for a little something something for his time, so something slutty? She got rid of all her slutty clothes after she had Briar in a fit of self hatred toward her new mom bod, so that was out. Besides, he wouldn't have invited Briar over too if he was looking to get laid.

So what does one wear on a casual 'date' these days? She had until Sunday to figure that out.

Tag List:  @Xxxkatxo @Weallhaveadestiny

[sammy-gvf]

We get along (for the most part)

chapter 3

warnings : just some cursing

plot: the local rebel badass girl and lee bodecker have had some run ins, lets see how it goes, shall we?

Previous chapters will be linked, one is pinned on my profile

Climbing my way up the steep and creaky stairs of the chapel, I look up and start to see the sunlight leak through the glass stained windows, taking it step by step and looking at my feet as I walk. 

I’m taking my time walking up the stairs though, I really am not in a rush to get back to the hot box of a room they call the chapel. Stopping, I look outside to see Lee standing next to his cruiser. I find myself staring for a moment, I can't put a finger on why I’m in such a trance.

Lee is standing there drinking his coffee out of a plain white plastic cup, I watch as he lifts it up and brings it to his pink lips. His jawline is flexing every time he brings the cup up to take a sip, I can't help but stare. He suddenly turns over to his left and spits out tobacco, his eyes travel up the dirt to the window I’m absentmindedly staring at him through.

“Fuck” I whisper to myself as I duck down below the window. “ I hope he didn't see me”  I think to myself. I wait a minute to pop back up and then I suddenly hear footsteps coming from behind me. I look behind me and it's just Mrs. Bodecker, I softly smile and walk up the stairs alongside Ruth in silence. Entering the Chapel, the hot air instantly slaps me in the face and I instantly break into a sweat. 

As I slide back down next to my parents, I look back at the space that Lee was sitting in. His wife looks around to see where Lee could have possibly gone off to, so I decide to get up quietly and sit next to Ruth. People stare as I quietly get up out of my seat in the pew and walk over to sit in the empty spot that Lee occupied before he went outside for some unknown time. Ruth smiles and scoots over a bit to let me sit. For the remainder of the church service,  Ruth and I just exchanged quiet smiles and enjoyed each other's company. 

Standing up and saying a quiet “goodbye”, I step out of the pew and turn towards the door to find a rather pissed off looking Lee Bodecker waiting for me. 

 I slowly walk past Lee with utter precaution, I’m terrified he will touch me again the way he did not even 3 hours ago.

 Now that he has done what he has to me, I feel rather intimidated by him. I won't lose my attitude, not one bit but I'm a little scared of the physical power he could have over me. 

I book it over to my fathers car, it looks like I’m the first one out of church. Sighing and my head hanging low, I turn around to sit in the bed of my fathers truck when I bump into something. I look up and find that it isn't something but someone.  

Lee Bodecker towers over my tiny stature, as I’m only 5 foot 3. 

“You looked quite in a rush to leave the chapel, huh?” he  says as he leans up against the side of my fathers truck.

“Lee, I really don't want to talk to you.” I say as I start to turn away from him,  I only got a few steps in before he grabbed my arm.

“When your sheriff is talking to you, you answer.” He says with authority, turning me around to look him directly in the eyes

 quickly escaping his grip, I back away from him

“ Do you really think I'm going to respect you after what you just did?Also, dont fucking touch me again. Who do you think you are?” I spit at him as he just stands there with his hands on his hips and a smirk on his face. “Go to hell, Lee.” I turn away and start to walk towards the church again to meet up with my family, but he stops me by trailing behind and taking the space in front of me as his. 

He spits out the toothpick he had in his mouth and replaces it with a mint. Completely unable to move, he hovers over my ear and whispers “Darlin, you ain't seen nothin yet.” and he starts to stride away from me.

 I instantly get goosebumps and the hair stands up on my arm. 

Not knowing what to say until he is at least 6 feet away from me, I blurt out 

“By the way, met your wife. She's too good for you.” I say as I pop a cigarette in my mouth, I light the cigarette and take a few steps backward, distancing myself from him. Promptly as if complete rage took over, he starts to speed walk towards me and I just stand there watching with a smile on knowing that we won't be alone any longer.

 A group of people walk out of the church,chatting and laughing; including Lee's wife, Ruth. Standing on the porch of the church, I see her wave towards Lee and I, only I wave back. I take the last puff of my cigarette and put it out under the sole of my shoe. I cock my head to the side and give him a little “bye, bye” smile and a little wave

 Lee gives me a “I’ll get you” look as he slowly turns away to walk towards his wife.

“ Lee! Honey, where were you the last 30 minutes of church?” 

My eyes follow him as he walks up to his wife, he puts his arm around her waist and guides her down to his car. As she gets herself into the car, he turns around and gives me a stern look before he steps in. I can't help but chuckle out loud as he tries to look intimidating.

My brother and parents walk up to the car to get in and I see Lees police cruiser slowly drive past my family and I. Looking past the cruiser, I hop in the car and we start to drive away from the chapel. 

About 10 minutes later, we arrive home and I hop out of the car to head to my room. I immediately flop onto my bed and groan. I have so much work to sort out and do, college has had me absolutely exhausted.

I go to Knockemstiff Community College, as a business major. I usually prefer to do work at the library or the diner, I just can't concentrate at home. My father is always ramblin on about somethin, he’s a retired coal miner. Always goin on about the news or some drama floatin around town. Thinking about how my father will most likely try to talk about something stupid with me, I decide to grab my things and head over to the library. My friends know i'm usually there around 1 or 2 oclock on Sundays so they usually meet me there. 

============================================================

The town of Knockemstiff is not large by any capacity whatsoever, so anyone you see walkin around town, you most likely know. 

Looking out my car window, I watch as people walk to the same place I see them go every single sunday.  Some goin to the pharmacy, the butchers, the small grocery store we have here, it's all a repetitive process. 

Pulling up to the library, I grab my stuff out of the passenger seat and head inside to find my friend waiting patiently at the table we usually sit at. 

Knockemstiff has its quirks and this fine ol library is one of them. The gray building sticks out among the rest of them in this lil town. Stepping in, it never ceases to amaze me, the architecture of this library is nothing compared to the town hall. The high rise ceilings make the room look massive and the oak bookshelves give the room a type of glow. I always have enjoyed scanning the many rows and sections, getting lost without a worry in the world.

“Mags! Oh, girl have I got gossip for you!” She says to me and frantically waves me down to come sit with her.

Lilly-Ann Brighter has been my very best friend since high school, we did everything together and we still do. Her parents were not  too fond of me, bein the rebellious kid in school didn't give me the best reputation with her parents but they got to know me better and now consider me one of their own. It's been a long journey trying to get Mr. and Mrs. Brighter to trust me with their careful daughter.

I sit down hurriedly and wait for her to tell me,  I haven't seen her in 2 weeks so I'm curious as to what she has to tell me about. I get out my books and paper, set them up and wait for her to blurt out what she has to say, she's always been one to tell me all the gossip. 

“ You will not guess who moved in nextdoor to me!” She says whispering to me over the table, we may be in a library but  nothing will stop her from talking as loud as possible. 

“Who? Was it that boy you said you met in your classes?” I say as I open my textbook to the tiny tab sticking out of the top of it, the pages are torn from previous owners and many years of use. I had bought this from the school store, it was rented previously.  I grab the cup of coffee that Lilly had brought for me.

“ The Sheriff and his wife moved in yesterday.” Lilly says

 Immediately, the hot coffee I was drinking went down the wrong tube, choked a little bit and then started coughing, Lilly gave me a worried look as I slowly got up from the table to walk to the bathroom, just so I wasn't interrupting the other people in the library with my coughing fit.

Arriving to the bathroom, I instantly let out the suppressed cough i was holding in, letting all the liquid that got stuck in my throat come out. Practically hacking up a lung for 5 minutes, I go over to the sink and splash some water on my face and take a drink from the faucet. Looking up at the mirror, you notice bruises slowly starting to form on your chin, Lilly is for sure going to ask questions. 

“ Why the fuck are things happening to me like this” I say outloud to myself. 

I give my face one last look and I head back out to the main library to study with Lilly.

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

finally chapter 3 is out! 

 dont forget to like/reblog and leave some opinions !

tags- @youcancallmeishita , @raisinbransam , @hillest , @please-buckme , 

@buckysdolls , @nerdy-depressed , @ladyfallonavenger , @do-not-pray-for-me​ , @not-another-fangirl​

[hyuniebaby]

Focus (7)

Pairings: Baekhyun x Y/N x Junmyeon

Warnings: mentions of sex

AU: College student! Baekhyun, Professor! Junmyeon AU, college!au

A/N: I don’t proofread when I post so there might be typos 😅 I’ve been busy with work so I haven’t updated in a while~ If you’re still reading this fic, I just want to say thank you!

@coffee-prince-kyungsoo

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

You spend the next few days avoiding Baekhyun. The task was extremely hard since you were both in the same program. One time he had his Advanced Biochemistry class just before your Organic Chemistry class in the same room. When you saw him making his way out of the room, talking animatedly to Jongdae, you immediately went to hide behind Seulgi. Lucky for you, you were shorter than her. He wasn’t able to notice you but your sudden movement caught Jongdae’s eyes. He smirks but doesn’t say a word to Baekhyun. Especially not when you were trying so hard to hide.

Jongdae, being Baekhyun’s best friend and roommate, naturally knew about Baekhyun kissing you. As much as he wanted to help Baekhyun out of his misery, he didn’t want to interfere. The last time he did, it went extremely uncomfortable for him as you’ve both been seen by a professor walk out of the janitor’s closet. It ended up with him being shouted on by Baekhyun and being ignored by Baekhyun the whole night when he tried to explain what happened.

Baekhyun, on the other hand, wanted to apologize again but this time for kissing you so suddenly. He honestly doesn’t know what he was doing and why he did it. But how was he supposed to tell you that? “Y/N, I’m sorry I kissed you, I don’t know why I did it.” Uh, no. That doesn’t sound like an apology to him. So despite having seen you many times when you tried to hide from him, he only looks at you longingly and doesn’t try to talk to you just yet. Maybe you weren’t ready to hear it too, he guessed, considering you were going out of your way to avoid him. Not to mention you running after he kissed you. To him, it seems logical to give you some time to process and get over it before he tried to apologize.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You’ve been so hung up on Baekhyun’s kiss that you neglected your studying. By the time the weekend came, you rejected your friend’s invite to a party. You planned to study the whole weekend at home to catch up with all the lessons you weren’t able to read about for the past few days. You were halfway through your Organic Chemistry notes when someone rings the doorbell. “Delivery for Ms. Y/N!” You hear someone shout.

Huh, you weren’t expecting something to come today, you thought. You went to open the door only to be greeted by a bouquet of flowers. “I’m sorry but I think you have the wrong address,” you tell the delivery man. The “delivery man” lowers the bouquet to reveal his face.

“Junmyeon?” You gasped. The first thought that came to your mind was that the person in front of you wasn’t Mr. Kim today, he was your friend, Junmyeon. He ditched the smart casual outfit and only wore a hoodie and some pants.

“These are for you.” He hand you the flowers. “Can I come in? I wanted to talk to you.”

You guide him to the dining table where your laptop and notebooks were scattered.

“I’m sorry to disrupt you from studying,” Junmyeon says as he scratches the back of his neck.

You respond with a nod as you carefully placed the flowers on the table. You were still quite mad at him for leaving you high and dry the other day.

“I just wanted to say sorry for the thing that happened a few days ago...”

“Oh you mean when you didn’t allow me to cum?”

He smiles sheepishly, flustered at how blunt you were being.

You’re friends with Junmyeon even before anything sexual happened between the two of you so you were open and comfortable talking about it with him than with Baekhyun. “I mean come on, Junmyeon, I understand we all have sexual urges. It’s fine. We’re human.” You ran your fingers through your hair. “But personally I think it’s unfair that you didn’t let me cum,” you sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I just — my mind got clouded when I saw your hickey. I wasn’t in the right headspace.”

You were used to having sexual affairs, it wasn’t a big deal to you. You’ve had plenty of one night stands over last year with strangers. The only thing that was weird right now was that it was Junmyeon you did it with. A friend. Your professor. So you don’t know how to proceed with this. Same as how you didn’t know how to act with Baekhyun because of what happened to the two of you between the sheets.

It even complicates things when you hear Junmyeon say those last words. He worded it as if he was jealous that you’ve been doing this act with another man. And then you remember how Baekhyun sounds exactly the same the last time you talked and he reacted the same way. How possessive, you thought.

But if they were possessive, you were greedy. You wanted to have them that way again, despite the strain in your “relationships”. You wanted them to touch you and fuck you. Your thoughts were heading in another dangerous path so you cough and try to clear your mind.

“Yeah, whatever, Junmyeon. Just don’t do it again next time.” The words flew out of your mouth before you can even comprehend what you said.

Next time? His eyes widened. Will there be a next time? He sure as hell hopes so. Your mouth was amazing and he wanted to feel you again, but in your pussy next time. This excites him.

You were flustered with what you said. But if you talked right now, you’ll be embarrassing yourself more so you remain quiet. You stare at your notes as if they were the most interesting things in the world. You were hyper aware that he was looking at you. You kept your mouth shut.

Then Junmyeon sighs. “What are you studying, princess?” You blush at the pet name.

“Organic Chemistry.” You say. “I didn’t know it was supposed to be this hard.” The sexual tension now gone as you talked about your studies. “I mean, I know some basic stuff because of the training we received for the quiz bee last year but some of these things are really hard to understand. My professor won’t even teach us properly. She makes us answer all the problem sets in the book every meeting. How can you even answer something that you haven’t learned yet?”

Junmyeon looks at you softly. “I think I can help you with that. Although, I’m not as good in Organic Chem than I am with Biology...”

Your eyes sparkled at what he said. “That’s alright! You know I need all the help I could get. I’m pretty sure you know that I need a dumbed down version of the lesson if I need to get the hang of this.”

So for the next few hours, Junmyeon helps you study. Being your tutor for over a year, he knows how to get his point across to you so it wasn’t really hard for you to understand what he was saying.

The study session was interrupted once again when you hear jingling of keys. You see your parents standing by the door and you got up from your seat so fast to hug them. “You came earlier! I thought you weren’t supposed to come back until next week.”

“We missed you, darling.” Your mom coos.

“Next week’s meeting was rescheduled so we decided to go back here. How are you sweetheart?” Your father says.

“Everything’s fine. Junmyeon’s here, he’s helping me study.”

On cue, Junmyeon shakes hands with your parents to greet them. Your parents respected Junmyeon because he tutored you for over a year and had significantly improved your grades. They knew you remained friends with him after so they weren’t bothered by the fact that you were hanging out. Your mom invites him for dinner, but Junmyeon politely declines, claiming he still had some paperworks to sign and that only dropped by to help you study. He bids everyone goodbye after a few minutes of small talk with your parents and leaves.

By dinner time, you converse with your parents, asking them about their trip and what they did. In turn, they asked you how was your first week back at school and you internally cringed at the fact that the first week of your school was troublesome. You don’t tell them that though. You just tell them that it went by pretty quickly.

When you’re done with the dishes, you resigned to your room to study again. You studied until the weekend was over. You were a slow learner so you needed to promptly start studying instead of cramming everything the day before a quiz or major exam comes up. It works for you though, you get to learn at your own pace.

The next thing you knew, it was Monday again and you had Bio class. Since you and Junmyeon made up, you were slightly less worried about going to class. The only problem was Baekhyun was there and you don’t know if you should still avoid him or if maybe you should make up with him too...

As you enter the room, you scan for any sign of Baekhyun or Sehun. You release a breath of relief when you realized they weren’t there yet. Having arrived 15 minutes earlier than the start of the class, you sit by the middle row and start plugging on your earphones. You reread the lessons you studied over the weekend.

You were interrupted when someone taps your shoulder. You remove your earphones and look up to see Sehun smirking at you. You roll your eyes at him as he sits beside you.

“Is that the proper way to greet your friend?” He says.

You immediately fake a smile and use a high pitched voice, “Hi Sehun~”

Sehun frowns in disdain and shakes his head. “So... has was your talk with B?” He moves his eyebrows up and down.

“I remember making a promise to you last week? And it goes by ‘I will kill you,’ do you remember?” You smile at him.

“As I’ve said, I’d like to see you try.”

“Can I borrow your hand?” You ask him.

Sehun eyes you warily but gives his hand eventually. You smile and grab one of his fingers and start bending it backwards.

“Ow!” He shouts and snatches his hands away from you. “What a devil!”

You roll your eyes. “Stop overreacting. It wasn’t that bad!”

He raises his brow in response.

“Now that that’s all done,” you start saying, “last week he apologized to me. For — uh, reacting weirdly when he saw me and Jongdae. He explained how Jongdae wanted to ‘seek me out’ when he found out what happened between me and B. And then....”

And then Baekhyun arrives and you immediately shut your mouth. Sehun notices Baekhyun’s arrival but continues to look at you, asking you through his eyes for the rest of the story. But you don’t budge. Sehun figures that you won’t talk if Baekhyun was there so he sighs and pinches his nose in frustration. He hates it when people leave him hanging.

You didn’t expect Sehun to turn around and ask Baekhyun what happened last week. Your eyes widened. You look at Baekhyun and he looks at you. You plead with your eyes, asking him, no, begging him to not say anything to Sehun. But if anything, Baekhyun doesn’t like that Sehun still hangs around with you and that he sits beside you when it was supposed to be Baekhyun’s seat.

So out of spite, he says, “I kissed her.” at the same time that Mr. Kim comes in the classroom. Somehow, Mr. Kim heard what Baekhyun said and figured out that he was referring to you. Sehun, on the other hand, was shocked. He faced you while you buried your face in your hands.

It hasn’t been an hour since you’ve sat on your chair, but you feel like you’re so done for the week already.

[bloodyshadow1]

beaujester week 2020 domesticity

Breakfast Time Wars

Day 2 of Beaujester week 2020, just be aware that it features my ot3 beauyashter/bashter not just beaujester so if that’s not your bag please feel free to skip and not look under the cut, I wont’ mind. hope you enjoy it if you do read it

  Fjord, just Fjord, of the Mighty Nein hated mornings.  He didn’t used to hate mornings, he had to wake up early at the orphanage because the matrons needed to be awful to their charges.  On working on the docks and ships he had to get up early because things needed to be done, especially by Fjord since he was the youngest.  But now he really hates mornings at the Xhorhouse than anything before.

    They’ve had a few weeks of downtime, so they decided to spend it at the Xhorhouse, save Veth who has been spending her time in Nicodranas. They’ve developed some habits with the amount of time after the wedding.  Caduceus would normally be the first one up, despite the sun not coming up he would wake up every morning and start cooking breakfast for everyone.  Beau would wake him up around 6:00 to go for a run and do some other workout stuff that would leave him in pain.  He was getting better and hadn’t thrown up since they got there.  After an hour or more likely two he would catch up to Beau who had finished much earlier and was sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast.  He would collapse into his chair and start with a plate of whatever Caddy had made that day and some coffee, and then it would begin.

    Yasha would come down from the room she shared with Beau and Jester in her sleep clothes and take her seat at the breakfast table next to Beau like she would every morning.  Sleepily she would grab Beau by the chin and plant a kiss on her. “Morning wife,” she said sleepily. 

As talkative as Beau normally was, she could just mumbled a, “morning,” while her cheeks darkened. 

 Fjord always groaned watching things go on, not that he had a problem with Yasha kissing Beau, they were wives after all. Well he did because they were both practically his sisters and he wasn’t too big on public displays of affection.  Not to mention that it meant that… like clockwork.  

    Loud banging came from down the stairs as Jester ran down the steps in a huff. “Yasha!” She shouted and pointed an accusatory finger at the large Aasimar woman.  “How dare you kiss my wife,” she yelled in mock anger.

    “Yes Jester,” Yasha said completely unfazed, which Fjord had to assume had something to do with this being a daily routine.  The Yasha they first traveled with would be a blubbering blushy mess if someone accused her of kissing their wife.  “I kissed your wife, and I’m about to do it again if you watch me,” more awake she grabbed Beau’s chin, not that she had to that hard, and dragged the smaller monk into another deeper kiss.  Beau didn’t seem to complain as she was, she seemed all for being kissed by one of her beautiful wives.

    “Augh,” Jester let out, Fjord was so sick of that sound, “how dare you!”  “Well if you’re going to kiss my wife,” she said pulling out the seat to the opposite side of Beau, and promptly sat down on the monk’s lap.  “Then I’m going to kiss your wife.”  Right on cue she grabbed Beau’s face away from Yasha and pulled her into a kiss of her own.  It was a deep kiss, with tongue, something the sweet innocent Tiefling that Fjord met so long ago in Nicodranas would never dare to plant on someone.  Maybe she would dream, Fjord had to admit, Jester always did have a dirtier mind than she had any right to in Fjord’s opinion.  

    Yasha and Jester went about this ridiculous cycle a few more times, they mixed it up a few times. Yasha picked up Beau, with Jester on her lap and placed the two of them on her lap with her immense strength. 

    “Seriously Beau you hate this kind of cutesy bullshit stuff normally,” Fjord said frustrated that he had to sit through this garbage every day.  It was one thing to do after the three of them got hitched, but it’s been a month and he can’t see eggs without watching his sister make out with her wives.

    “Normally I’m not the one getting smooched by two gorgeous women,” Beau said taking deep breathes.  She could run for an hour straight without needing a break but a few minutes of kissing beautiful women and she’s sucking wind.

    “But every day,” Fjord whined a bit, he knew it was a losing battle.  Telling Beau not to kiss willing beautiful women, especially those who loved her enough to marry her, she might as well tell the sun not to shine.  Well the Dynasty sort of made that possible with magic, so that wasn’t exactly fair, no one, no magic would be able to force Beau not to stop kissing her wives. 

    “I’m just sitting here man,” Beau said with Jester’s arm around her on Yasha’s lap, “I can’t help it if I’m irresistible to Lavorre women.”  They agreed to take Jester’s name, Nydoorin was a name Yasha took from the tribe, it didn’t have as much weight to it after she lost her first wife.  And While Yasha and Jester considered taking the Lionett name to fuck with Beau’s family, but Beau vetoed it.  She wanted the life she started with her new life with she didn’t want their last name out of spite, she wanted a name that was built with love from the start, and Lavorre felt right for the three of them.  Fjord had felt nothing but pride when Beau said that, it felt good to know his little sister was growing up.  He also definitely did not cry when Beau asked him to be her best man.  Definitely not.

    “Well can you guys go upstairs at least when you’re kissing and not at the breakfast table,” Fjord asked.  “Just once I’d like to eat breakfast without watching this scene of depravity.”

    “Don’t be a party pooper Fjord,” Jester said, sticking her tongue out at Fjord all in good fun.  “Though he’s right, we should go upstairs.”

    “Yeah Fjord,” Beau said once her mouth was able to do something other than kissing her wives, don’t be such a party pooper.  I could use a bath though, I suppose,” Beau said remembering how sweaty she was.

    “Just wait,” Jester told her, “we’re just going to get sweaty again so you might as well wait until we can all take a bath together.”

    “I also like the way you smell,” Yasha said nuzzling her face deep into Beau’s neck and breathing in deep, “it does things to me.” She said in a voice that definitely did things to Beau and Jester. Fjord missed the days that she was so quiet and shy he didn't have to hear her say things like this. 

    “You know what, I’m just going to take my breakfast out in the garden and enjoy it in the bounty of the Wildmother, like a good paladin, and get away from you kissing people.” Fjord said, picking up his plate and cup of coffee and left to go outside.

    “You don’t know that,” Beau shouted, “the Wildmothers a lesbian too, you might catch her making out with Erathis in our garden with your luck.”

    Fjord prayed to Melora that he wouldn’t see that in the garden.  When he heard Jester say, “to the room Yasha, wife of my wife,” Jester said not leaving Beau’s lap.  The larger barbarian easily and gently picked up both women as if she was holding flowers they often gifted her.  Fjord felt like going for another run somewhere far away, he might be happy for his friends, but it didn’t mean he wanted to be anywhere around them.  He knew it was inevitable, since tomorrow would be the same, but he could hope.  “Oh Yasha your arms are so big,” and a “Beau your abs are so cut, I could eat off of them,” from Jester upstairs made Fjord leave double time.  

[stormkrigeren]

Whumptober Day 6!

Link to the Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34210837/chapters/85417618

Title: Bruises - Clark

Prompt: No. 6 ‘Touch And Go’ - bruises, touch starved, hunger

Word Count: 1231

Clark gingerly touched his shoulder, which was quickly turning a dark, clouded purple beneath his shirt, and glanced through the sparse contents of the little medicine cupboard in the bathroom. Superman had heard the hill tremble right before it collapsed but he had been focused on the evacuation efforts and hadn’t really had the time to move out of the way when six-hundred cubic meters of dirt and rocks hit him full force. Any humans that may have been caught in the slide might have been killed almost immediately, though luckily everyone nearby had been moved a safe distance away and the only victims were a few head of cattle and Superman - who despite his extraterrestrial invulnerability was having a bit of a bad day and was pretty decently bruised.

It wasn’t that big of a deal, he told himself. He healed fast, especially in full sunlight, but today really wasn’t his day considering how overcast it was in Metropolis. The bruise would probably take a few hours to patch itself up before he could go back to using all of his limbs normally and painlessly. That’s why he was in the medicine cupboard - Clark was pretty desperate for some pain meds.

“Smallville?”

Clark nearly bumped his head on the counter, he looked up so fast at the sound of her voice, and he quickly located the source of it leaning against the open bathroom door, watching him with a look of curiosity.

“What’re you doing in the tampon cupboard, babe?” Lois asked, folding her arms over her chest with a playful smile, “Nosebleed?”

“No,” he answered shyly, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand despite himself and glancing back at the shelf to confirm that yes, Lois’ collection of feminine products was conveniently situated right beside the box of Nyquil and bandages, “I was looking for some ibuprofen… or something...”

“I thought your metabolism was too fast for any of the over-the-counter medication,” Lois pointed out, and he shrugged. A Kryptonian metabolism was much faster than a human one, resulting in Clark constantly being just a little bit hungry and having generalized immunity to everything from coffee to poison to alcohol and even most medicines. Lois was right - he would need to overdose on ibuprofen to feel so much as mild relief.

“While we’re on the topic, are you going to tell me why you were looking for meds in the first place?” she spoke up, interrupting his train of thought and dragging his attention back to her. Clark paused at the question despite himself, resisting the urge to touch the bruise covering most of his left side as he answered quietly.

“I was feeling a bit sore.”

Lois’ eyes narrowed instantly, and he knew what she was thinking because he was thinking it too: soreness usually came from an injury of some sort, and Clark never got injured.

Or at least, not very often.

“Ooooookay,” she said slowly, drawing the word out as she stepped closer to him, “Any particular reason you might be feeling sore? Something you’re not telling me about?”

“It’s not a girlfriend, I promise,” Clark joked half-heartedly, but one look at her face and he knew that it had been a bit out of taste. This was Lois Lane, after all - Pulitzer Prize-winning investigative reporter and generally someone not to be messed with (not to mention absolutely perfect in every way, if Clark was making the list) - and given the context of the situation, she had been clearly asking about world disasters and not a nonexistent affair.

“I got a few bruises after getting caught in a landslide,” he sighed, “Nothing big, just-“

“Where?”

“Venezuela.”

“Fuck, no, I mean where are you bruising?” Lois corrected herself, and Clark glanced sheepishly up at her from his spot on the tiled bathroom floor.

“My left side mostly, though it’s not that bad and will heal soon. I think I threw my shoulder out of socket, but it healed as I got home so it feels almost fine now-“

Clark knew his reflexes has slowed quite a bit, but he was still surprised to discover that they were slowed enough that Lois was able to pull up the hem of his shirt before he got the chance to react, her eyes widening at the sight of the faded yet still quite large purple and green bruise covering most of his back and side.

“Shit, Clark, it looks like you got hit by a bus!” she exclaimed, “When did this happen? Recently?”

“Maybe forty-five minutes ago. It’s not that bad, it felt way worse when I first got it.”

“Did you ice it as soon as you got home?” she pressed, only for Clark to shrug an obvious ‘no, I didn’t think of that’.

It was at that moment that realization dawned on Lois, and it suddenly occurred to her that this Kansas farm boy who never got into fights or earned so much as a scratch or bruise in his daily life had no idea what to do when the unexpected happened. She sighed, “You have no idea how to treat a bruise, do you?”

Clark, being Clark, flushed bright red and stared at the floor, thoroughly embarrassed as he shook his head, “I always just sat in the sun for a bit. It seems to work just fine.”

Lois didn’t know enough about that particular aspect of alien physiology to argue with him, so instead she shut Clark up by sitting down on the floor beside him and yanking open a different cupboard door. After a brief scrounge through its contents, she found what she was looking for: a small stash of HotHands packets purchased for her return to trip to Ellesmere Island during her search for the Kryptonians. There were still a few left, so she promptly pulled one out and snapped the activator, shaking it a little bit to get the warmth to spread faster while Clark looked on with interest.

“Always treat bruising with ice ASAP. It helps to slow the flow of blood and prevent the clotting we see as a bruise,” she lectured, pressing the packet against the discolored skin beneath his arm and silently noting that he didn’t even try to resist or ask what she was doing. It briefly reminded her of all the times she had treated her own injuries in the same way while growing up on various army bases doing dangerous shit, and later embedded in military conflicts whilst still doing dangerous shit. But Clark didn’t need to know that.

“Since it’s a bit too late for icing it, we’re going to use heat instead to encourage blood circulation and remove the clotting,” she continued, “It’ll still take a bit, but it’s hopefully faster than waiting for your magical plant powers to kick in.”

“I thought you decided to call it ‘charging’. ‘Sunlight charging’, or something along those lines. We both know I heal faster when energized,” Clark teased, and Lois had to bite back a chuckle at his attempt at snark.

“Well ‘Bond, James Bond’, I’ve decided that you are now a plant and would photosynthesize a bit better if we sat in the living room with the curtains and windows open,” she snarked back with a grin, “It’s a beautiful evening, and it’ll do you some good to sit in the sun.”