#i also have a giant poster but its too high up on the wall to get in the shot. so

[littlebigplanet]

two of them

[beezleberry-breakie]

Hmmm

SWWSDJ: Younger sibling gets to perform on Sunny Day Crew Time- Joesph x older sibling!reader

It was noisy to say the least.

Alot more nosier than you anticipated when on the set for "The Sunny Time Crew Show". Also alot more kids in attendance. Some seemed to already know the drill about getting ready for the show, sitting prim and proper, not a word falling from their mouths. Which made you wonder how the hell your brother was even able to star as the "guest show winner".

You sighed, staring at said younger sibling whom sat in the make-up chair, eyes all starry, his mouth moving a mile a minute as he exclaimed how excited he was to meet his hero. The artist attending to his face could only nod her head along, bags prominent under their eyes, as she begrudgingly listened to the "fun facts" of the show your brother rambled about. Another silent as they began to fuss with his hair, every so often speaking quietly into a walkie talkie to make sure everything was on schedule. This was just too much, but seeing as your parents had to work extra to feed the family, you let the nauseating feeling of boredom slip from your face.

"Alan, give them a break. You're mouth is wandering faster than your brain". Your voice carried a hint of sternness as Alan continued to gush about the show. His starry eyes now rolled at your request for quiet. "Sorry ugly, you didn't have to be here you know? Could've dropped me off".

Oh the throttle you wanted to ensue.

"Friggen brat", you continued to curse him in your mother tongue before leaning yourself back against the wall, arms crossed as you looked around the room.

Your eyes traveled the brightly colored walls, taking in all the colors, the hand stenciled drawings, and lingering posters that littered the walls. Until they stopped at the four giant faces that painted the back wall.

The SunnyTime Crew Show! You rolled your eyes, more reasons for your brother to gush. Starring Knackerdan Drizzle, Cloudy Belle Sue, Rory Raspberry, and Sunny Day Jack! There it was, the main reason for your sweet boredom in the TV world.

Sunny Day Jack.

Another sigh.

You didn't mind the show, hell the actors who played Jack and Rory were amazingly good looking plus the lessons they taught weren't half bad. Working at an after care center, all the younger kids spoke about was this funny clown on the television. Even snippets of the show seemed to somehow drift in your college courses. So, of course, you got curious. Soon as work was over, you tuned to this hit new tv show that everyone was talking about. Your brother front and center laying down infront of the small screen tv. 6:00 pm hits, its prime time hour. One click of the remote then lo and behold, The SunnyTime Crew Show pulls up. After that Alan grew obsessed with Sunny Day Jack.

"Almost finished", the make up artist chirped, a small smile gracing her lips. Your mind wandered back to reality, a brief glance to your brother refocused your thoughts. It seemed the hair stylist had finished, already working on the child in the next seat.

"Huh, not half bad." You walked towards the artist and Alan, eyes roaming his now bright sugared face. "Guess they won't have to censor your face on television".

A look of annoyance ripped through Alan's cherub face. Before he calmed back down, as the artist applied the last of the bronzer.

"You don't have to follow me, you know. The Procsd-"

"Producer", hell what type of phonics were they teaching in elementary school these days?

Alan rolled his eyes.

"The PRODUCER" he mocked in a high tone, "said you could wait on set like the other parents".

As much as you wanted to leave the spoiled terror that is your brother, you couldn't. You promised. He knew that as well, which is why the attitude hit you harder than need be. Taking a deep breath you calmly faced the make up artist. The sweetest smile, which seemed to almost dabble on maniacal, formed on your face.

"Hi sorry, but is there a bathroom I can use?"

Yea you promised, but your baby brother could eat it. You'll make it up to your parents later. As you always did.

The artist nodded, using her free hand to gesture where the bathroom was. Eyes not once leaving your brothers face, as she checked for any imperfections.

"Thanks, be good brat. I'll see you on set".

Alan waved his hand, eyes soon glittering back to stars as he thought about meeting his hero. Your presence an after thought.

Once closing the doors to the make up room, a heavy burden seemed to lift from your shoulders. "Alright, so the artist said make a right", you glanced down the hallway that was now packed with folks speed walking to and fro, the giggles and screams of children bouncing off the walls. Costumes and background props being wheeled down the hallway, a single man yelling about everything being in place and to not screw this up.

Yea screw that chaos.

"So~ left I go!".

It was easy enough, as long as you quickly got out the way of any incoming business, no one seemed to bother you. Perfect. Almost too perfect in how no one stopped you. Alrighty, speed walking it is. Door after door passed by, not one destination placed in mind. You wondered if you even looked to be a part of production, you were around the ages of some of the SunnyTime Crew, so maybe? You didn't want to dwindle on the thought, right now you needed to find a closed room to think.

This was suppose to be a big moment for your brother, your parents were adamant that you set the VCR to record his breaking moment. Something to send back home to your parent's home country. They already felt like they missed the moment once your brother was announced by Sunny Day Jack to be the winner. Stating something about how his letter being one that truly touched the clown's heart. You didn't understand it, as you were sure most kids pretty much stated the same details in their own letter.

I'm your biggest fan.

You're my hero.

My mom says you could be my new dad.

Blah blah blah. You tuned out of the family celebration as soon as the bragging surfaced. There was only so much a first born could shoulder.

Ah, a blank door, promising. Slowing your speed, you glanced around to be sure that no one was around or at least paying attention before opening the door.

Silence, ooh and free snacks! This seemed to be some sort of break room? You couldn't tell, but the plush couch, free food, and table seemed enough to make it so. With almost a skip to your stride, you walked towards the closet seat and plopped down on the couch.

With a deep inhale, your head fell against the back of the couch. This was just...a lot. You evened your breathes, thinking back to how your parents fussed about being sure to keep an eye on Alan. You scoffed, "Alan", generic American name but your parents knew that having a more "tame" name meant that both of your lives would be a bit easier. Which even doing so, did diddily squat about that. You shook that thought from your head, the slightly forgotten donut in your hand gravitating to your lips. You took two giant bites, reducing the sugary bread to only glaze on your fingers.

Holy shit these were good. Another.

You didn't mind Alan being the spoiled child, you knew your parents loved you just as much. Just sometimes you wished you could just hang out with others your age, instead of baby sitting your brother and his friends. Which no time soon was that going to change, at least until Alan was in middle school. Both mom and dad worked back breaking hours to support the family, especially with you now going to college. You promised your father that whatever you were going to college for would be essential to the work force, but you knew just as well that he didn't care as long as you were happy. A smile filtered on your face as you took a bite of your third donut. Your family had their moment of absolute insanity, but they were all you had, and you wouldn't change it.

A few moments of silence passed as you stared at the ceiling, munching on your sixth donut before you decided it was time to go see where Alan was squandered off to.

You stood up giving a bit of a stretch, you've been gone a little bit longer then you should've. Alan must've thought you destroyed their bathroom, embarrassing him and ruining his chance of meeting Jack. Little shit. You made your way to the door, whilst grabbing another donut, if production was going to make you stand around then might as well take any free treats laying around.

Two steps from the couch, you heard voices. A mix no more than maybe four? You quelled your steps, hoping that they'd walk right past the closed door, which almost seemed like a possibility until the door handle turned.

Oh your god, you weren't suppose to be here. Production even warned you about not straying from set or the makeup room. Crap. You didn't want Alan to get kicked out of guest spot, but where the hell else were you going to go? The room besides the couch and table was completely bare. Glancing around you tried to look for something to help you out this situation, until you couldn't do anything else but stare at the door as it swung open.

"Oh! Hello?"

Shit.

"Uhm are you lost?", a brunette eyebrow raised in question almost disappearing into the blue waves of hair. The hand that was holding onto the door knob, reale Jack fully stepped into the room, concern steeped in his eyes as he looked at you. He didn't seem mad, but you couldn't that the chance. You were way out of the way of ....

Got sort of drunk towards the end...not sure if I should continue this as I am a perfectionist and cause my own grief, also haven't written in yeaaaaars. Ugh. Meh...

[agent-oo-z]

I like to imagine what an alien/post post apocalypse archaeologist would think if they found my room.

Long post warning. Also run on sentence warning.

Like let’s assume my room is somehow magically preserved so that everything is exactly the way it is right now but like. Maybe a bit aged from time.

My bookshelves are not mainly used for books. The books are part of the decor set up. Different shelves have different themes, like my marvel shelf with all my funky pops and my handful of action figures from when I was obsessed with marvel. Or my animal shelf with my warrior cats and similar animal protagonist series books are kept along side my corresponding animal toys/figures/models(the wolves, the dogs, the cats, the bears). And then there’s the Monsters Inc shelf. There’s also the color specific ones like my white blue and purple shelf or the red shelf or the yellow and black and white shelf. And the “oh shit I have a lot of notebooks and journals I guess these can have their own shelf and I’ll fill the rest of the space with some random decor” shelf.

But that’s just the book shelves. My desk has its own little shelf organizer on it but instead of supplies it’s also just a collection of things. Little plushy keychains and my 3 furbies and my special steve Irwin funky pop.

And my walls. My goal is to have all my walls covered in things. If it can be put up with poster putty I’ll put it on my wall. There’s tickets and posters and postcards and pictures and wax seals and certificates from summer camps and art from loved ones and professional artists and magnets and pearler bead things and convention badges and trading cards and confetti and magnets and broken jewelry charms and an origami heart pouch filled with fortune cookie fortunes and a giant fat head brand golden retriever decal and those plastic glow in the dark stars/planets/comets/etc and the sticker glow in the dark stars/planets/comets/etc and a 3d moon lamp that cycles through the phases of the moon and a cinnamon witches broom and my high school graduation cap and pressed pennies and the thank you cards and drawings I got when I worked at a summer camp and a Polaroid of two children no one in my family recognizes and a Chuck E. Cheese token.

And then the medicine cabinet turned altar with the top dedicated to Bird Mom and then half the top inner shelf is dedicated to her as well and the other half of that shelf is for Loki and then the next shelf down is split between Dionysus and Aphrodite(and Athena is on top of the book shelf next to the medicine cabinet because she doesn’t want to share and also is very picky about what I’m allowed to dedicate to her so she has the least amount of stuff). Also an entire shelf of that book case is dedicated to Bird Mom and my deceased pets and family members.

And because the people who had this house before us were strange in different ways than we are there’s a mount on the ceiling that used to hold up a boxing bag but now it has a magnetic fake succulent in a little ceramic pot and stuffed animal called a Purrmaid that is a combination of an Angora cat and a jellyfish. It also has a crocheted vine with purple and yellow flowers(one is red and yellow but only the one) that connects to the curtain rod and a hook on the wall and goes over the mirror too which is on the wall above the desk. And the mirror has stickers and decals on it but also sticky notes to remind me of random things. Under the vine and over the mirror there’s a string of felt papel picado(spelling?) and then there’s my high school graduation cord connecting the leftmost wall hook above the mirror to the rightmost wall hook above the wall with the door(where the air vent juts out over the top of the bookshelf) and there’s the pompom spider Halloween decoration that’s hanging on that. There’s also two tiny versions of the jellyfish cat in different colors and three Christmas tree ornaments hanging on the hooks supporting it. One ornament is a box of original flavor cheezits and one is a peacock feather eye in a glass casing and a blue and purple and pink gradient acrylic deer with a constellation type pattern on it. The wooden zebra mask that we found at good will is hanging from the hook on the right most part of the wall where the stupid shallow closet juts out. On the wall is also a collection of paper dolls of the various drag queens who have won Ru Paul’s Drag Race (up to season 10 I think?). And then in the closet one of the shelves has all the build a bear my little pony friendship is magic characters I have. And because the closet is so tiny the drawers that contain all the clothes I don’t hang up are actually next to the closet and on top of one of the stacks is a flat surface so of course that’s covered in trinkets and tchotchkes. And then of course there’s the massive pile of stuffed animals wedged into the corner against the wall. It’s between the foot of my bed and the right hand side of my desk(the desk I’ve had since the previous house we lived in, the desk I’ve had since third grade, the desk covered in stickers and unused return labels and duct tape scraps and marker stains and glitter glue and candle wax). Some of them are from media I care about and some are just cute designs and some are based on real creatures(both extant and extinct) and some even have visible repairs.

Like. What would they think of me? Would they be able to tell what was a dedicated altar for spiritual purposes and what was just a collection of items that represent my interests and aesthetics? Would they be able to tell what on my wall was selected for its emotional significance and what was just pretty or perfect to fill that one little spot? Would my sense of humor creep through? Would they be able to tell how much I love animals and zoos? Would they find all the stains ground in to the carpets, the cat fur that clings to most surfaces no matter how often I manage to vacuum, the dirt and grim that finds it’s way into hard to reach places?

Would they catalog my room and leave it as is? Take all its little pieces and separate them by categories and put them in storage? Would they take my soul made manifest in the little living space I can somewhat control and shatter it eternally or tend to it lovingly as they exhibited it for countless onlookers to come and learn about what life was like in my time?

I have a little journal I keep on the windowsill next to my bed. It’s my joy journal. Each day I try to write in it at least three things that I did/saw/heard/ate/etc that brought me joy. But on occasion, when something really big has happened and I just need to process it, I’ll write about it. I even went back and added an intro and a symbol key so that if some future historian comes across it they can learn more about me! I told them my name and pronouns and diagnoses at the time I wrote the note. I also told them about where I was born and raised and where I was going to college at the time and what I was studying and why. I apologized for how atrocious my handwriting is.

(I also threatened to haunt them if they intentionally misgender me)

I hope that they would see how much my little hoard of nonsense meant to me. And that even if they dismantled it or left it alone entirely that someone somewhere would find out about me and think “wow this is so similar to how I live my life, even though our existences are so separated by time and space we do the same things.”

[vukovich]

peculiar prompt: soulmate au where your dick is the same exact length as your soulmate’s (i guess everyone has a dick in this universe idk 😂) anyways drarry discovering they are soulmates in whatever convoluted way you would like!

Nine and Three Quarters

Summer weddings were an unlikely tradition for a family that ran high to freckles and sunburns, but Harry didn't mind. Usually.

This wedding, though, he'd have just as soon not attended. It wasn't that he harbored any romantic intentions toward Charlie, but seeing him so bloody happy made Harry keenly aware of his own solitude.

Charlie and Constantin fed each other forkfuls of cake and grinned. They were perfectly-matched. Identical white short sleeve dress shirts and gold waistcoats, sparkling blue eyes and mirrored grins as they threatened each other with blobs of icing, much to Molly's horror.

Their matching gold rings felt like an extension of the tattoos on the underside of their left forearms. Charlie's was a dragon, of course. Constantin's was a crouched hippogriff. They were exactly the same size, but different designs and colors.

Forearm tattoos abounded among gay wizards, but it had taken seeing Charlie and Constantin together for him to notice the pattern. A plate of cake floated to his table and set itself down in front of him. He picked it apart with his fork, separating the layers of frosting out from the the cake, then mashed the fluffy cake down into a pellet.

A breathless Charlie flopped into an empty chair next to him and surveyed the wreckage on his plate.

"Got a grudge against that cake?"

"Huh? Oh. No. Sorry."

Charlie slid Harry's cake away, probably for its own good. Constantin and Fleur fox-trotted past, and one of them reached out to ruffle Charlie's hair.

"No date?"

"Nah." Harry licked his fork clean, rolled the bits of cake around in his mouth, and wished he'd have eaten the slice.

"Still doing the playboy thing, eh?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess."

Charlie huffed a laugh. "You guess? What else would you be doing at clubs?"

Harry shrugged again.

"Well, if you get tired of it and want the name of a really good soulmate tattoo artist, let me know." Charlie wiped up a dab of frosting off Harry's plate and popped his finger in his mouth. "Until then, enjoy hunting in the dark."

Charlie rose to leave, but Harry reached out and grabbed him by the buckle on the back of his waistcoat.

"Soulmate tattoos?"

--

--

"But I thought the tattoo went on my arm."

Harry kept his hands in his jeans pockets, just in case the man decided to help him disrobe.

"It does..."

Bushy grey eyebrows rose in speculation, and the man's brown eyes squinted at Harry, unsure of whether Harry was playing a prank, playing dumb, or playing at nothing.

"So why would I take my trousers off?"

"Riiiggght," he said slowly, gently spinning back and forth on his stool. "Why don't you tell me what you do know about soulmate tattoos."

Harry hooked his thumbs in his pockets and looked around the tattoo parlour for clues, but there was nothing but drawings on the walls. Pictures of forearms, too, all with differing sizes of beasts and creatures on them.

"Uhm," Harry started, "they go on forearms." The man nodded and motioned for him to continue. "And... they're... magic?"

The man shook his head and sighed. "The death of gay wizard culture, I swear. I blame that app."

"Wait, there's an app for-"

"Soulmate tattoos are the size of the wearer's dick."

Every tattoo Harry had ever seen ran through his head at once, and he stood slack-jawed for what felt like hours.

The man continued. "And so part of getting one is getting your dick measured. Professionally."

"I... Uh..."

"Men lie on the app. That's why all these boys are running around thinking they don't have soulmates, but older men know better. Back in the day, we'd just walk up to a bloke, line our arms up, and pair off."

Harry looked at the ceiling and tried to imagine a scenario in which that didn't sound both terrifying and oddly comforting.

"Why would you line them up?"

The man stared at him for a long. fucking. time.

"Soulmate dicks match, kid." He grumbled something about the Internet. "Now do you want the tattoo or not?"

"I... Uhm... Maybe later?"

"Suit yourself."

--

There had to be a better way to do this.

Harry balanced on tip-toe, focused on his dick with one eye, and dipped his quill. His tongue peeked out a corner of his lips as he concentrated on tracing around his shaft.

Was the quill angled accurately? Was the nib too far from his skin to be accurate? Was width even relevant?

He let out a held breath and dropped down to his heels. The paper on his desk was an embarrassment.

"Looks like a fucking caterpillar," he grumbled to himself.

Maybe they made enchanted quills for this.

--

The nook of art supplies at Flourish and Blotts was overwhelming, but it smelled good. Needle-sharp enchanted nibs sounded like a terrible idea. Image-grabbing paper sounded equally dangerous. What if he got his dick stabbed or absorbed into a piece of paper?

Someone cleared their throat behind him.

"Can I help you?"

Draco Malfoy met his eyes with a hesitant smile. He looked strangely at home surrounded by paper and ink. He wore a rumpled black t-shirt that advertised in bold white letters "Truth Quills: The Reign of Error Ends Here".

"Uhm... maybe?"

"What kind of project are you working on?"

"I'm... just... tracing something?"

Draco nodded and reached up to grab a pack of nibs just above Harry's head. The Dark Mark on his forearm caught Harry's eye. It wasn't a Dark Mark anymore. The skull wore a crown of red roses, and the snake had been filled in with vibrant yellow and blue markings. Harry decided it looked a bit like a Grateful Dead album cover. But prettier.

"These are good for most projects if you're just starting out."

Draco handed him a plastic box with more thingamajigs than he had any idea what to do with.

"Uhm, okay. Thanks."

"No problem." Draco's eyes wandered down to Harry's forearm and his smile faltered. "Anything else?"

"No, I think I'm good."

--

He wasn't good. He was nowhere near good, and he had black ink all over his dick. Also on his hands, and the table, and the floor, but those were less important.

"Looks like a goddamn Holstein dong."

--

"Alright," Draco said, and his smile was bordering on a smirk. "But what's the reference? What are you trying to trace?"

A dozen dick-shaped things came to mind, and Harry blurted, "A banana."

Draco did not laugh. Not with his mouth. Just with his eyes. His t-shirt today said "Blink Ink: Drier than your ex" in jagged black script.

"Mm hm," Draco squeaked through his nose. "Is accuracy important?"

Harry let out a relieved sigh. "Yes."

Draco cleared his throat and schooled his face. "Here."

He handed Harry a Truth Quill. "That ought to give you an accurate outline of your... banana."

--

"Hot damn!"

Harry held the outline of his cock up to the light. Damned if it wasn't perfect. He laid it face-down on his forearm and frowned. How was he supposed to get it onto his skin?

--

Draco faked a cough and covered his mouth and nose with his hand. "Pardon?"

"I need to transfer it."

"But a backlight won't work because..."

"Uhm... it can't... light can't go through the... other... thing."

Draco's t-shirt today had a frilly, looping font that said, "Nearotica: Almost There."

"Dare I ask what material you're transferring this banana onto?"

Harry focused on Draco's forearm, and the curve of the roses, and the sinewy body of the snake.

"Uhm... leather?"

Draco shot him a challenging look Harry didn't understand. "I suppose you'd want a cautery tool for that."

"Uhm... okay."

--

He wasn't okay. He had two burned dots on his forearm, and a hole in his paper at the base and tip of the outline.

Over a hundred galleons spent, and all he had to show for it were what looked like two mosquito bites that were exactly one penis-length apart.

The hell with all of it.

--

Harry dropped bags of barely-used art supplies on the store counter, and Draco's chin snapped up. He cocked his head and looked at the bags while Harry read his t-shirt: "Thrill Your Darlings: Tropes and Nopes."

"Didn't work out?" Draco asked.

Harry bent down, rested his elbows on the counter, and shook his head. "Can I return it?"

Draco shrugged. "Store credit, since it's all been opened."

Harry buried his face in his hands. "I'll take it in coloring books."

"I'll throw in some markers."

Draco shot him a pitying smile and stood to collect the bags. His eyes caught on the two burn marks on Harry's forearm. He set his elbow next to Harry's and pressed their wrists together.

"Huh," Draco exhaled. He rolled his tattoo against Harry's forearm. The peak of the rose crown touched the mark nearest Harry's wrist, and the snake's tail met the other.

Harry stared at their arms, wide-eyed and panicked in the best way.

"Is it-" Harry started. "Do they, uhm..."

"I... do believe so. If your banana outline was accurate."

Harry gulped. "It was."

"Huh," Draco repeated. "Well, in that case, there's a giant mandala coloring poster I've had my eye on, but it's a bit much for one person."

Harry let a grin spread across his face. "Consider it sold."

[giorno-plays-piano]

Abominable Part 1

Pairing: mage!Peter Parker x mage!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, murders, possible gore in the future chapters, pretty dark story overall.

Words: 1543

Summary: An investigator of the Mage's Association, you are sent to discover the mystery behind a series of murders before more sinister events take place.

P.S. This was inspired by The Garden of Sinners particularly. I loved it dearly when I was a teenager.

To avoid any confusion, the reader is neither good nor bad due to the nature of her profession. Peter is an adult.

____________

Stepping on a platform with a vintage Samsonite briefcase in your hand, you looked at the people standing aside, most of them waiting for other passengers to leave the train. Although you knew the face of a magus who was supposed to meet you, it was hard to recognize him in the crowd, and you stared at all those people in front of you, clenching the briefcase’s handle. You hated waiting.

Of course, Lord Pierce wasn’t too happy with your arrival: the old fool thought he was untouchable even after a series of murders and an unnatural magic activity in Tombra that got the Mage's Association alarmed. You remembered the revulsion in Mr. Stark’s voice when he talked of Alexander. The old aristocracy, Lord Pierce was an outstanding magus who had long abandoned practicing any decent magic and instead preferred to exploit the strength of his numerous successors. While he still had some friends in the Association, Stark hated him greatly and was happy to remind him who was in control.

Naturally, Pierce knew why you came to Tombra, and the conversation between you two didn’t go well. You didn’t hide your intentions: you were the Investigator of the Clock Tower, and your job was to figure out what was happening in that megalopolis where Lord Pierce resided proudly. It meant you were going to be a great disturbance and a possible danger to many aristocratic families under Alexander’s protection. 

It wasn’t surprising he chose the most useless assistant to help you find out the truth. His name was Peter Parker, and he was class D+ magus who attended neither Clock Tower nor Atlas Academy. His role was to slow you down, you thought and sighed. 

Suddenly, you saw a familiar face when a young man hurried to you, his cheeks red, sweat running down his face: apparently, he was late. You snickered, looking at his formal attire - his black tie was so long as if he stole it from his father.

Once he was close enough, the young man stood tall, at attention, waiting for you to say something as he stared at you with awe and horror.

“Lady Ragna of the Clock Tower,” you named your rank coldly, and your companion nervously bit his lower lip, acting exactly how you expected of him.

“Peter of Tombra! Pleased to make your acquaintance!” He sounded too excited, and his hands were trembling a little, although he tried hiding it.

Gods, what was he good for in a situation like this, unless he possessed some extraordinary powers not stated in his file? Well, now was the time to discover that, you thought as you narrowed your eyes at the young man.

"Your primary magecraft?"

"B-bounded fields and healing!"

Nothing spectacular there, but bounded fields could be of use to you if you would ever be attacked while performing magic.

"Elements?"

"Water and wind!"

This was better: magi controlling more than one element were still rare, and the boy could make a nice apprentice if he were to be send to the Clock Tower. Besides, with Tombra surrounded by a river, a liquid manipulation skill Peter definitely possessed could be valuable, too.

"Magic circuit composition?"

"N-normal?"

"Any familiars?"

"None."

He was clearly feeling like a mouse in front of a snake, his face getting even more red with every second, and you found the situation rather funny.

"Your motto?" You stared him dead in the eye.

For a second Peter looked horrified, his mouth slightly open as if he were to say something, but you heard no sound coming from him. Then, as if struck by lightning, he gibbered with fear, "Live p-proudly?"

Oh boy. He really thought you were being serious when you talked rubbish with a stony face. If anybody was to talk about a personal motto, even the most pretentious magi of the Clock Tower would burst out laughing.

Rolling your eyes skyward, a gleam of deviltry in them, you smirked, "It was a joke. Don't ever use a motto, it's a terrible idea."

"Thank goodness! I thought it's something high magi of Clock Tower have." The next second Peter made a sigh of relief, and then the both of you laughed loudly, making other people on the platform throw glances at you.

Although you realized the young man had much less experience than you, you still felt he would be fun to have around. If he could make your life a little easier, you would accept his help.

Moving away from the platform and soon passing through the station's hall, you went straight to the city streets instead of catching a taxi. Peter hurried after you, still perplexed at your refusal to let him carry your bag - you guessed he expected you to boss him around, and it made you chuckle. What Pierce was doing with young magi here if Peter had such an impression about higher-ups?

"Lady Ragna, I was informed that the cottage where you chose to stay is in the suburbs. Did you decide to change it?" He asked, seeing you walking to a completely different place.

"No, it's the same cottage. If you wonder why we aren't driving there right now, I'd prefer to patrol the streets tonight to get to know the city. We can discuss the details of the job in the meantime."

You walked away fast, not looking at your companion anymore and watching the night city instead: you had never been to Tombra before, but many magi from the Clock Tower were born there, and their talk about the city always made you a little jealous. Born in a small town to a simple human woman who knew nothing of magic, you always wished to know what it was like to grow up in a true magic society like the one in Tombra, a home to many noble families, albeit smaller and less significant than those living in the capital. 

The city looked exactly like you imagined it: giant grey buildings stood besides the streets, and while they didn't look particularly pretty, you loved those countless neon signages and bright posters that were shining even in the darkness of the night. The streets were busy with tourists admiring the city, couples walking out of the fancy restaurants and cinemas, and young people, recklessly snooping around some nightclubs and bars, trying to get in despite the security glaring at them and requiring them to show their ID cards while the kids pretended they forgot them. There was also a small marketplace with colorful food trucks and booths, offering both local and international cuisine, and you blended into the crowd immediately, taking some crepes and then buying takoyaki - Peter, following you like a puppy, looked shocked.

"I can't do my job on an empty stomach," you smirked and handed him some takoyaki.

Funny enough, he accepted the second you showed the plastic plate into his hands, eating so hungrily as if he had been starving the whole day.

"Well, now since I feel a bit better, let's talk business," you motioned the young man to follow you, and turned to a narrow alley, leaving the noisy market that was going to be full of people for at least a couple of hours more. "Do you have any idea why I have been sent by the Association?"

Licking his fingers, Peter looked somewhat shyly at you, probably afraid he would say something silly, "From what I understand, the reason is some unnatural magic activity the Association couldn't trace, and the involvement of its user in several murders."

"Correct." Crossing the alley, you scratched the chipped paint from an old building in front of you and looked at your fingers, furrowing your brows. "To be precise, the reason why the Association didn't leave these murders to a human police is the method how these murders were carried on. Whoever did it pretty much sucked the soul out of victims' bodies."

Peter frowned, staying still while you kept examining the concrete wall in front of you, drawing strange symbols that started glowing immediately as you finished them.

"It may sounds funny, but the ritual necessary to prevent the soul of a dead person to come back to Akasha is known only to a couple of magi, and each of them is considered a great danger to the society by the Association. This alone is a threat, but Mr. Stark's other concern is the indefinite nature of magic practiced in Tombra. It is likely that the magus responsible for the deaths is planning something much more sinister, and we can't allow this to happen."

Finding what you were looking for, you nodded to yourself and moved further, Peter walking right beside you with a concerned expression on his face. He was probably surprised you didn't need his guidance, but you spent the last three days memorizing Tombra's map.

"Do you mean that the souls of victims can be combined to become a power source for some... dark ritual or something?" He asked nervously, licking his lips.

You smirked, turning to him and pointing to the wall of the next building that started to glow subtly as you got close, "Exactly, Peter."

__________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx

[def-initely-soul]

house rules {2}

pairing: jimin x reader (f.)

genre: fluff; angst; roommates au; kinda new girl au; smut; f2l au

rating: explicit

warnings: sexual content; mention of emotional abuse; mention of manipulative relationship; mention of body issues; explicit smut

words: 19.6k

summary:

↠ {living with two guys has always its pros and cons. Pros being someone will always get you popcorn for your midnight cravings. Cons being you might like one of them…?} ↞

or alternatively, the shenanigans of five friends, where two of them are in a loving relationship, one is Kim Seokjin and the other two don’t know what the fuck they’re doing

.

.

Next morning, on Christmas eve, you try to be as nonchalant as you can. Thankfully your walls are thick enough so no one took notice of your late-night shenanigans and what happened between you before Hoseok’s interruption was barely anything out of the ordinary.

Thankfully you get yourself distracted with the preparations for this evening. Every year the five of you plan a traditional Christmas dinner, idea courtesy of Hoseok’s and Seokjin’s minds, where every single one of you was assigned to different tasks.

Seokjin is in charge of the roasted turkey, as he is every year, Hoseok will cook his famous vanilla-roasted sweet potatoes, Jimin will prepare a cauliflower soup and Ana is always in charge of the desert. This year choosing the recipe of a Buche de Noel.

You’re left with the simple task of making smooth mashed potatoes and bringing the booze.

Even though simpler than what others have to do, it gives you time to be alone and focus on something else other than Jimin. Whether you’re cooking or going to the store to pick up the alcohol, your time is productively filled with anything other than thoughts of him.

You take a nap around midday, leaving the kitchen free for the guys to use. Taking a hold of this opportunity to stay clear of Jimin’s gaze. You make sure your interactions are limited between the lines of what is only necessary, even when the preparations are done and you sit around the table.

Ana and Seokjin arrive together, the turkey the size of a small TV, which Seokjin himself puts on the table. Not letting anyone else help him or carve it, flashbacks of last year when Jimin tried to carve it and nearly dropped it still etched to everyone’s memory.

You help Ana move the desert to the fridge for later, and as all of you take your places at the dinner table, you feel a particular set of eyes on you.

Thankfully you don’t sit next to him so you don’t have any one-on-one conversation like you do with Seokjin sitting to your right. You only talk to him when the conversation involves the whole group and that’s only to not alert anyone that something is off.

Your mind is swarmed with memories of Jimin’s look. With the way he’s looking at you now.

You ignore it in favour of talking to Ana at the end of the table as she rumbles excitedly about the party next week. You immerse yourself in that conversation, going lightly over some details and pouring another glass of wine as Seokjin passionately joins you.

Although, even if you’re engrossed to something else you can’t help but notice one thing. 

He never mentions Dinah.

And that gives you magnificent, dreadful hope.

.

.

It’s New Year's Eve, and you’re in an awfully good mood.

The party is in full bloom, the essence of joy and excitement wafting through the air, people dancing their worries away and laughing under the neon-lights (Ana really went all-in in the decoration department), having fun in what can only be a fitting welcome for a bright New Year.

The mulled wine has gotten slightly into you, landing you in that perfect spot between sober and tipsy, just enough to elevate your already high spirits. Besides you’re also celebrating finally finishing your book. It’s been a bitch of a struggle but finally, you’ve gone and did it. Finally booking an appointment with a publishing company that took an interest in you after reading one of your drafts you’ve previously sent them.

And well. Dinah isn’t here.

“I cannot believe I’m talking to the next Stephen King!” Hoseok yaps excitedly, throwing an arm around your shoulder, voice raised higher than normal due to the several “old-fashioned” he managed to throw back.

You grunt from the sudden weight as he leans a bit too much on your side to stand up. “Okay, step it down a notch, buddy,” you chuckle, patting him on the shoulder.

He thinks it over before-. “Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?”

Your eyes widen, an involuntary laugh escaping you. “I said step it down a notch, not climb the whole mcfreakin ladder?” Hoseok giggles happily, before his eyes rest on the hostess, who’s currently talking to a coworker, gleeful smile in full bloom.

He waves at you to lean closer to him and you oblige. “See that girl over there?” he whispers to you conspiratory, pointing at Ana who seems oblivious to your conversation. You chuckle at his drunk antics but decide to appease him and nod.

A blissful smile takes over his lips. “Imma marry her someday.”

You barely keep your smile at bay. Honestly, Hoseok is whipped for Ana and anyone who doesn’t see that is blind, so it doesn’t sound weird coming from him. You’re willing to bet his wish is gonna come true someday. It’s just a matter of time.

Though you’re happy for your friends, you can’t let this teasing opportunity pass you by.

“Hey, champ, I got some bad news for you…” you press your lips together in mock-sadness and Hoseok’s face falls.

“She has a boyfriend,” you deliver the final blow and his eyes widen. Before he bursts into tears.

At least a couple of people stare at you, as Hoseok bawls his eyes out and you can’t stop cackling. Oh, god, you didn’t know he was this drunk, he was perfectly fine moments ago! Although to be perfectly candid, he has a low alcohol tolerance, so really this one is on you.

Ana shows up after a few seconds, worry etched into her features after seeing her boyfriend cry like a baby. “What happened? Are you okay?” she asks him, obviously more sober than him, but once she sees you laughing, her eyes narrow. “What did you do to him?”

You shrug, your expression being the poster-child for innocence. “Nothing! I just told him you have a boyfriend.”

This sends another wave of tears down Hoseok’s cheeks and Ana laughs incredulously. 

“Is it true? Do you have a boyfriend” Hoseok struggles to ask through his hiccups and Ana can’t repress the lovesick smile on her lips.

“Yes and he’s a giant baby.”

“Does that mean I still have a chance?”

Ana chuckles before pressing a kiss on Hoseok’s pouty lips. “It’s you, you dufus! Now, come on, let’s get you to lay down…”

“Really?” he says with the most childlike smile you’ve ever seen on him. And only seconds later it turns into a smirk. "Oh, I will lay down, I will lay down so hard that you-” he struggles to complete his sentence, “that you’ll want to lay down with me…”

You groan out loud, not ready for the scene to turn into an NSFW one. “Are you horny all the time?” you complain out loud and the couple raises their brows at you.

“...Already know the answer to that one. Thank you very much five years of living together!” you admit regrettably and Ana tsks you.

“Serves you right for having the nerve to terrorize the sun himself!”

“That’s me!” Hoseok points to himself with a proud smile and you press your lips together to stop the giggles from escaping as Ana rolls her eyes fondly at her boyfriend.

“I’ll get him to my room-” Hoseok finger guns her, winks and blows her a kiss, “could you please make him some coffee?” Ana pleads you as she struggles to push a drunk Hoseok down the hall.

“You got it, babe! I’m gonna roast this coffee so bad, it’s gonna go running to its momma!” you announce in the spur of the moment, but Ana just looks at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“Doesn’t work for me, does it?” Ana just shakes her head and you huff. “I’ll go get the coffee…”

You drive through the crowd, barely avoiding the drinks spilling left and right and finally reach the kitchen. Thankfully there’s only like a couple of people around, so you reach for the french press easily, adding the coffee grounds and warming some water in the microwave.

“Why on earth are you having coffee with so much alcohol around and why does that weirdly make sense for you?” Jimin enters your vision, resting his hip on the counter in a mirror of your stance and you have to take a breath.

His dark blue hair is slicked back, revealing the magnificence of his eyebrows (yeap, that’s another spot of Jimin you’re weak about). He’s dressed in all black; black jeans, black T-shirt with an open neckline, a leather belt hugging closely at his hips, a dangly earring gracing his earlobe and a silver chain resting against his glistening collarbones. He has been dancing and all you wanna do is dive in and bite at the skin of his neck, glinting welcoming under the dimmed lights.

Focus.

“Give me a break, it’s not even for me…” you joke back, just in time to cover up your little zone-out. Jimin stares back confused.

“Who then-?” he makes a sound of realization before he chuckles. “Hoseok,” he responds and you nod, a giggle already on your lips.

After Christmas eve, when you refused to even speak to him, things became less weird. It seems like the two days you spent actively avoiding each other helped in restoring the dynamics back to normality. You’re not even sure who made the first move but after a few days, you were back to normal, as if that thing on the couch never happened.

Maybe it is for the best to pretend it never happened. No feelings are going to get hurt this way.

“Yeap, Ana took him back to her bedroom,” you reply, moving to pour the water into the french press.

Jimin raises an unconvinced eyebrow as he hands you a mug. “And are you sure they’re not gonna fuck back there?”

You take the mug with an appreciative nod. “Honestly, they’re probably fucking right now on their way there. Maybe they are, maybe they’re not. Maybe I’ll be scarred for the rest of my life walking into that and maybe I won’t.”

“And you’ll take those chances?” Jimin chuckles incredulously and you almost swoon at the way his smile lights up the room.

“This coffee won’t deliver itself!” you joke and Jimin’s smile turns bigger.

“Your service is greatly appreciated!” he says with an awful British accent and proceeds to laugh.

“Well, thank you good sir!” you play into it with a curtsy and both of you burst into happy, slightly intoxicated giggles.

Your eyes rest on the french press as the coffee grounds seep into the water and it’s like your lips have a mind of their own when they ask the following question.

“So, alone tonight?” you ask with fake nonchalance and you swear Jimin tenses.

You can’t help yourself. From the moment you realized Dinah was absent you wanted to know why. They’ve been dating for almost a month, so that means they’d still be all over each other, you figured they’d want to spend New Year's together.

So how come Dinah isn’t here?

Jimin nods, eyes absentmindedly following your fingers as they trace the marble counter.

“What happened to Dinah? Didn’t want to spend New Years with our ugly asses?” you joke, hoping to lift the tension off his shoulders and rejoice when Jimin cracks a smile.

“No, no. Actually, her friends are throwing a party too…” he simply says, not giving you another explanation even though something else clearly bothers him. You don’t ask further, figuring he’ll tell you if he wants to, so you move to press the plunger down and pour the brown liquid into the cup Jimin handed you earlier.

“And I actually didn’t …” he hesitates, biting his bottom lip.

God, this is straight-up torture.

“Didn’t…?” you urge him on, sensing his desire to say whatever’s bothering him.

He takes a breath.

“Didn’t have the need to invite her…?” he admits, eyes on the steaming cup of coffee, struggling to put his thoughts into words as you stare at him utterly confused. He didn’t have the need to invite her? Like, he didn’t care if she was here?

No, Y/N, don’t get your hopes up.

Jimin huffs, running a hand through his hair.

“I mean.. I didn’t want to.”

And you find him staring at you again, with those intense, magnetic eyes and your breath is sucked out of your lungs.

He didn’t want to invite her. Why? What does it mean? Why did he do it?

And why is he looking at you like that?

Did he-?

“Surprise!” a familiar female voice echoes through the kitchen as Dinah throws herself literally against Jimin, hugging his waist with an excited smile. No concern in her eyes over your panicked faces.

You don’t know if she heard your conversation but if she did, she doesn’t show it.

Jimin’s wide, panicked eyes travel between you and Dinah. “Dinah, what are you doing here? I thought you were spending New Year’s at Minoh’s?” he turns around to bring her forward and the intimacy hiding in the domestic action drives a knife through your chest.

“That party was boring as hell. And I missed you,” she says with a blinding smile and leans in to press a soft kiss on Jimin’s lips, ripping your heart in two.

You can’t stand this. You can’t stand to watch as she kisses him right in front of you and you feel like an outsider, glimpsing at something you long for but can’t have. Is it always gonna be this hard?

You swallow the lump in your throat, gripping the cup tighter and force a smile on your lips just in time for the couple to miss your crestfallen expression.

It’s time to get out of here.

“That’s great! You’re just in time to spend New Year’s together!” you exclaim with forceful enthusiasm and Dinah nods excitedly as Jimin looks at you with an indecipherable expression. “You’ll have to excuse me, I have to deliver this bad boy!” you smile, pointing at the mug and you start walking away, already waiting for the moment you don’t have to keep that smile on your face any longer.

That seems to wake Jimin up as his eyes widen. “Wait, Y/N, I didn’t-”

“Have fun at the party!” you interrupt him, keeping the smile on for a little longer, before you turn your back at them, smile disappearing, steps fast as you miss Jimin’s face filled with despair.

.

.

Your steps bring you back to the living room, already having delivered the coffee to Ana’s room. Although Jimin’s suspicions were correct and you walked into a scene you’d rather forget, closing your eyes to avoid any more damage on your retina, resulting in you leaving the couple with a half-spilt coffee.

Not that they’ll be needing it now anyway.

Stepping into the main area of the party you can’t help the sour mood that takes over you, watching everyone have a good time. You were also having a good time until Dinah arrived.

Which reminds you. What did Jimin mean back then? Was it just stupid you with your tendency to read way too much into things or did he actually mean what you wanted him to?

And if he did, why is he still dancing with her?

Your eyes are stuck to the couple in question, dancing in the middle of the living room as a mid-tempo dance track plays through the speakers, Dinah’s hands wrapped around Jimin’s waist as he sways her softly to the beat.

The night started out so well. You were having fun, for once all worries put aside as you didn’t have to think about the book or Dinah, or Jimin. You were happy.

But then someone decided to shit all over that happiness and you were back to the beginning. Having your heart broken by your best friend and he doesn’t even know.

You take a breath to calm the erratic beating of your cracking heart when you see a too familiar face emerging from the kitchen.

Oh no, what is Jaehyun doing here?

You move quickly, dreading to talk to him, hoping he won’t see you but, alas, luck was never on your side.

His eyes spot you all the way across the room, with numerous people in between like he has laser vision or something. A smile takes over his lips as he waves at you and begins walking towards you.

God, no. No, you can’t deal with him right now. He’ll probably want another date and you know he deserves to know the truth but you just can’t do it right now.

You’re quick to move to the balcony, trying to lose him through the crown but his voice keeps calling you even outside. You slip through the people and into the living room, stopping to see him briefly lose you as his eyes scan the balcony.

You escape into the kitchen, hoping he won’t look for you here and in your hastiness to hide, you fall face-first into Seokjin’s chest.

“Fuck, sorry, you need to move!” you say urgently, trying to hide behind the massive wall he calls his shoulders.

Seokjin regards you with a suspicious glare. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to hide from Jaehyun!” you bite through gritted teeth as your eyes scan the open area behind you. With relief you realise Jaehyun isn’t anywhere near, just a bunch of other people and Jimin talking with Dinah and Hoseok.

Your heart still clenches uncomfortably when Seokjin interrupts your thoughts.

“Why are you hiding from Jaehyun? Didn’t the date go well?” he asks you purely confused and with guilt, you realize you never told him nor Ana that you bailed.

You bite your lip. “I didn’t go…”

Seokjin’s eyes widen comically. “What?! Why?! I thought you wanted to!”

You groan rubbing your palm on your face. “I just… didn’t feel like it anymore! And now he’s here, looking for me and I don’t know what to do! Who invited him anyway?”

At that Seokjin has the decency to look guilty. “I may have seen him at the coffee shop and invited him… But in my defence I didn’t even know you bailed on him!” he looks at you with a scolding glare and another groan leaves your lips.

“Oh, shit here he comes…” Seokjin looks carefully behind you and you steal a glance to indeed see Jaehyun stepping into the living room and walking straight towards you.

“Okay, fuck, let me think…” you mumble in thought when you see something on the ceiling, hanging just a few centimetres behind Seokjin.

“Got it!” you exclaim, and when Seokjin doesn’t follow, you push him back so both of you stand right beneath the thing hanging from the ceiling and then you point at it, knowing he’ll catch the drift.

Seokjin’s eyes follow your fingers, only to widen in horror when they rest at what you're pointing at.

Mistletoe.

“No! No, no, no, I’m not kissing you so you can get rid of him!” he hisses, eyes swimming in denial and disbelief. But you narrow your eyes at him.

“It’s your fault he’s here! So step the fuck up Kyle!” you hiss back and Seokjin looks less than thrilled.

“Don’t quote vines to me, you heathen, I won’t hesitate bitch!” he responds and you know you’re halfway winning him over.

“I can’t believe you’ve done this…” you reply, mastering the perfect puppy eyes.

The sound of his favourite vine has him yielding in a matter of seconds, choking back a laugh before he rolls his eyes. “Fine. But we gotta hurry up, he’s almost here,” Seokjin relents, eyes falling behind you.

“Buckle up,” is the only thing you say before grasping Seokjin’s panicked face and press your mouths together.

You stay like that for a few seconds, simply pressing your lips together like an awful K-drama kiss though there’s no romantic music playing in the background. The kiss is at its best… underwhelming. That’s what you were lusting after all those years? It certainly doesn’t live up to the expectations.

You lean back, staring at Seokjin who barely manages to conceal his weirded out face. “Is he gone?” you whisper and Seokjin nods in relief.

“Yes, he’s gone…” he mumbles, letting out a breath as you let his face free and take a step back, finally breathing freely.

“Don’t ever do that again!” he exclaims, his words followed by a loud gagging noise.

“Anything for you Beyonce!” you say, sharing the sentiment and you grab a random shot glass on the counter, to wash out the feeling of Seokjin’s clumsy mouth on yours.

“We don’t tell anyone. We take this to the grave and live the rest of our lives feeling slightly awkward with each other. Sounds good?” Seokjin states with wide eyes and you laugh at his seriousness.

“Ay, ay, captain! Now take a shot with me to erase the memory for good!” you say, filling two glasses with tequila and you hand him one.

“To forgetting this ever happened!” he raises his shot and you follow his movements before downing the contents of the glass.

“Amen to that.”

.

.

Half an hour later, its time for the countdown so the New Year can officially begin.

The automatic clock on Ana’s TV screen reads 23:59:03 and you rush to gather your friends together in one place, so the New Year can find all five of you together as it has for the last four years.

The rest of the attendees also gather in groups; friends, couples, coworkers, newly made acquaintances but all shimmering with the vibrating delight to welcome the New Year and the opportunities that are bound to come.

Ana and Hoseok are already counting down the numbers - admittedly a bit too early -, and Seokjin passes you four tequila shots to celebrate once the clock strikes midnight. But then he’s left with an extra one and realization strucks you.

“Hey, where’s Jimin? He’s supposed to be here!” you yell to be heard amidst the loud chattering of the crowd, but your question remains unanswered when Seokjin shrugs his shoulders in loss.

Ana looks around to find said-man but it’s Hoseok that finally puts an end to the mystery. “Uh, actually he went home!”

Your eyebrows furrow, confusion apparent in your eyes. He’s never missed out on this! How could he leave? You always spent New Year’s together, the five of you, it was your unique tradition, one you’ve expected him to keep up with.

Maybe he was feeling a bit under the weather, you try to reason with yourself. Let’s not get mad at him before knowing the whole story.

“Wait, so he left without telling anyone? Is he okay? Did he even tell Dinah he’d leave?” you question back, aware of Ana & Seokjin’s wary gazes but you don’t bother to acknowledge them.

Thankfully, Hoseok still isn’t entirely sober to notice them either and start asking questions.

He just shakes his head at you. “Oh, no, they both left. Oh, the countdown’s started!”

As people begin shouting along with the voice on the TV you can’t help but stare aimlessly into space.

They both left. Jimin ditched you, all four of you to spend New Year’s with Dinah. Alone.

And it hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

It shouldn’t feel as much as a personal attack but it does. He left all four of you but it still feels like he specifically left you behind. As if he doesn’t care anymore. Before all that the chance of the two of you ever happening was abysmal. But it was still there, however small. You were fine with that cause at least you knew he valued you as a friend.

Now, you’re not even sure of that anymore.

You should be fine with him leaving. You’re just his friend.

And yet the heartbreak is overbearing.

Seokjin looks at you carefully as Hoseok keeps counting down to one, entirely unaware of what just happened as Ana counts with him but her eyes are on you.

You give her and Seokjin a weak smile, before averting your eyes quickly to count as well, not bearing to see the looks of pity in their eyes.

You hate this.

The clock strikes midnight.

You’ve never felt more alone.

.

.

The next morning finds you exhausted when you wake up on Seokjin’s couch. You’re not sure you could handle going back to the apartment and having Dinah and Jimin across the hall from you. Hoseok was going to spend the night at Ana’s, meaning firstly he kinda gave Jimin the pass to run wild and secondly you couldn’t crash at Ana’s. Of course, she insisted it was okay but you didn’t want to cockblock her on New Year’s. So Seokjin offered his home as an alternative which you happily accepted.

You’re dreading to go back to your flat, though already knowing it’s an inevitable curse, you leave a note for Seokjin to find when he wakes up and then you leave his apartment.

On the way home, you wonder if you should trek over to the donut shop around the corner for some heavenly delicacies but then you’d have to buy Jimin and Dinah some. And that is simply something you’re not willing to do.

Hopefully, they’ll be both asleep when you arrive, too tired to be up at 10 am on New Year’s, so you’ll get your chance to quietly slip into your room and avoid everyone for the rest of the week.

Maybe even a month until those stupid feelings finally decide to disappear.

You try your best to be as soundless as possible when you unlock the front door. You enter the living room on your tiptoes, closing the door quietly behind you before moving to throw your coat on the hanger.

The moment you think you’re alone passes by quickly when you hear the door of the fridge being shut and immediately turn around to see Jimin staring at you with bleary eyes. His hair is a mess as he’s clad in a white T-shirt and grey sweatpants as his pjs, a cup of what must be steaming coffee on one hand as the other runs through his locks. You find yourself salivating.

“Where did you go this early in the morning?” his gruff voice comes out, purely confused and before you get to correct him, his eyes fall on your figure. And he realizes you’re still dressed the same as last night.

“Did you just get here?” he asks, his voice a tad too sharp and accusing to be considered friendly and your arms wrap around your middle protectively.

“Uh, yeah… I crashed at Seokjin’s… Too tired to come back after helping Ana clean up…” you joke, forcing a laugh to hopefully ease the sudden tension hanging in the air.

Though your airy laugh doesn’t reach Jimin. Instead, his eyes are fixed on the wall to his right, jaw tense in what seems almost as anger before he takes a quick sip of his coffee and slum the cup on the counter.

“Ugh… are you okay-?” your confusion is apparent in your voice as Jimin walks off the kitchen, down the hallway.

“I’m going back to sleep…” he mumbles through clenched teeth before he disappears inside his bedroom and closes the door with a loud bang.

You stare weirdly at his door, bewildered by his entire behaviour but you’re still too sleepy to let it get to you. So instead you opt for crawling over to your room and hide beneath the covers.

.

.

The days after New Year’s turn out weirder and weirder to the point of questioning your mental state.

Seokjin still feels somewhat awkward around you after the kiss but instead of avoiding you, as any normal human being would do, he actively seeks you out, clinging to you and following you around like a shadow, as if the over-exposure will help him get rid of the awkwardness faster.

True to your words, none of you have said anything about it to the others, so you were half waiting for everyone to be immediately weirded out by Seokjin’s sudden display of affection. But apart from Ana that gave you some scarce confused looks, the other two haven’t made a single comment, as if this is a completely normal situation. They barely blink when even yourself gets creeped out from Seokjin’s insistent coddling.

Which brings you to the other weird thing happening in the flat.

Jimin barely talks to you anymore.

You don’t have the slightest idea why. If you said something, or done something that offended him, you’re none the wiser. And how are you supposed to know when he barely greets you in the morning?

Every time you attempt conversation, there’s always something he has to do, which sounds completely ironic, given you were the one that kinda did the same before.

Not to cover your own ass but you did that for the sake of your friendship! If Jimin ever finds out you’re into him, you can’t bear to think the effect this might have on your friendship.

Whereas Jimin might as well be angry over such a small thing as you using his earbuds.

It wouldn’t have bothered you that much if it wasn’t for Dinah.

Well, she barely does anything, it's just that Jimin always goes to her when he has the chance. Nights spent with all five of you together munching on popcorn in front of the TV, turn into awkward gatherings as Ana and Hoseok pair up against you and Seokjin, leaving the two of you cringing whenever the couple does something too coupley.

At New Year’s Eve, he practically admitted he wasn’t that much into her anymore and now he’s always with her. Did he lie back then? And if so why?

Everything is wrong and you don’t know how to fix it.

If only Jimin hadn’t begun dating Dinah, none of this would’ve happened. You wouldn’t have realised you liked him, he wouldn’t have spent so much time with her, he wouldn’t abandon the four of you for her.

Although, a small part of you screams you would’ve realised you liked Jimin either way. It wasn’t about Dinah.

And yet you can’t help the loathing that emerges like bile in your throat when you hear her name.

Or when Jimin, after two weeks of avoiding the rest of you, announces you are to throw a dinner so you can get to know her better.

You feel the headache splitting your skull open.

.

.

It’s nearly impossible to hide your sour mood once Dinah steps into the apartment.

A switch has flipped and where there was a smile from joking around with Ana, now there’s a permanent scowl on your face as you refuse to even acknowledge the newcomer, as she greets the rest of your friends.

Once she says hello to you too, you mumble something that resembles a greeting, not even bothering to look at her direction, as Ana regards you with a warning glare.

Deep down you know most of your attitude comes from Jimin’s behaviour these last couple of days, and Dinah’s direct contribution is only at roughly 10%. But you’re stubborn, immature and putting the blame on her seems like an easy way to cope with the situation and the hurricane of feelings swirling in your mind.

No one said it’s the right one. But for now, it’s what keeps you from hiding in your bedroom and wallowing in self-pity. Not that you won’t do that later.

You result in setting the table with Hoseok in silence, not really in the mood to talk, as everyone else sits in the living room and you catch glimpses of their conversation.

Seokjin and Ana talk about a new addition Seokjin wants to put on the menu of his restaurant, while Jimin and Dinah dally on the other side of the room.

You think you’re gonna barf.

“Ugh… Y/N are you okay?”

You turn around at the voice, surprised to see Hoseok stare at you with confused and worried eyes. Shit, did he sniff out something?

“Ah, yes! Why?” you put forward your most cheery voice in the hopes it will throw him off.

“‘Cause you keep stabbing the meat with the forks…” he comments carefully, leaning a bit backwards as his worry grows, once your confused eyes meet his.

And then you look back to the meat and, surely, all the forks you were supposed to pass around the table are stabbed into the steaks on the centre of the table.

Your eyes widen as you press your lips together in horror. God, why can’t you just behave for once?

You rush to remove all the utensils, dumping them into the sink and you pick out new ones, as Hoseok keeps staring at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m fine!” you respond with a clipped voice and you’re not sure what Hoseok hears in your voice but he drops it, in favour of placing the napkins around the table. Though you can still feel his weirded-out stare from time to time.

Once the table is set, Hoseok calls for everyone to gather around and one by one flock to their seats.

And as you put the finishing touches, you can’t help but hear Jimin’s conversation with Dinah.

“We have ice cream for dessert, you’re gonna love this one, it’s heavenly!” he says with excitement.

“Oh, only if it’s vegan, me and regular milk don’t go along…” she jokes and as Jimin says he’ll have someone check, an idea pops into your head. A petty, childish idea but it gives you some purpose for now.

So, she’s lactose intolerant? It would surely be a shame if she were to eat normal ice cream.

And by “shame” you mean hilarious.

The little voice in the back of your head berates you for acting so immature but at this moment you desperately need this. You can be salty for one evening.

What’s the harm?

.

.

Once everyone’s plates are empty, the lot of you migrate to the living room, as you stay in the kitchen to get the ice cream out of the freezer.

Jimin told Ana to ask you to check for the ice cream some time ago, -can you believe it, he didn’t even ask you! He had to talk to Ana for god’s sake-, and you did. But just as you’d suspected it wasn’t vegan.

So your plan is good to go.

You have Seokjin help you carry the bowls of ice cream to the living room and you pass each one around as they’re expected with excited noises.

Ana almost moans at the delicious flavour and Hoseok chuckles at his girlfriend’s antics as you sit next to Seokjin and dive straight into your own bowl.

During dinner it seemed everyone got along just fine with Dinah, talking and joking together as if she’s been a part of this group for a long time. And it bothers you even more.

You also recognize her attempts to get close to you as well but really you can’t be bothered. It comes to the point where she talked to you and all you did is give her a one-word answer before turning your attention somewhere else.

Though right at this moment your attention is solely on her as she takes a scoop out of her ice cream.

“Mmm, it’s really good!” she says excitedly to a smiling Jimin, as she swoops in for another spoon.

But after a few seconds, her eyebrows scrunch in confusion, as she keeps the ice cream in her mouth, looking as if she’s trying to figure out something. You can barely contain your gloating.

“Uhm, this ice cream is vegan right?” she rushes to say, eyes growing just a bit wider with what seems like panic.

Ana turns to look at you and you answer with the most innocent look you can manage, acting like you just realised you didn’t.

“Oh, oops! I guess I forgot to check, sorry! Why, are you lactose intolerant?” you respond in the first complete sentence you’ve given her tonight, internally gloating at her misfortune.

She swallows, her eyes widen even more, traces of fear growing in them. “Ugh, no-”

What does she mean no?

“I’m allergic.”

At once every conversation ceases, all eyes resting on her, wide in shock.

Fuck.

Jimin is the first to react.

“What?! Shit. Are you okay, should we take you to a hospital?” he asks in panic, placing the ice cream as further away from her as he can while you’re left staring at her in horror.

“Well, since I can feel my tongue thwelling, I thay we thould,” she comments shaking, losing the ability to pronounce the letter “s” as more time passes.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you struggle to say, full of remorse, but no one seems to hear you as the situation goes haywire.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, this wasn’t supposed to happen!

Seokjin is immediately on his feet. “I’ll drive you there, you guys clean up here okay?” he commands urgently and as you feel the guilt overwhelming you, you stand up form your spot in an instant.

“I’ll come with!” your voice trembles as you reach for your bag while Jimin and Seokjin help Dinah out of the apartment hurriedly.

But as soon as you speak Jimin’s furious eyes are on you.

“I think you’ve done enough.”

And then he slams the door behind them.

You’re left staring at the piece of wood with trembling eyes, as Ana and Hoseok simply stare at you, Hoseok’s eyes wide in shock as yours while Ana’s are filled with disappointment.

You. Fucking. Idiot.

.

.

It’s almost four hours later when Jimin and Seokjin return, finding only Hoseok in the living room waiting for them as he asks them how it went.

But Jimin doesn’t bother answering him as he instead marches with loud, angry steps towards your room.

On the other side of the door, your nails are nearly non-existent from all the nervous thinking that has plagued your mind for the last few hours. Your texts to both of them asking how Dinah was, were left unanswered and you were left brewing in your own nerves.

Until the door opens and Jimin walks in.

You freeze in your spot once your eyes meet his and see the undecipherable expression on his face.

You only manage to mumble a guilt-ridden “hi” and he closes the door behind him as he closes his eyes and takes a deep, calming breath.

Although it seems to not do much.

“What the fuck, Y/N?!”

Your answer is immediate, full of regret. “I know, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! Is she okay?” you ask, out of your wits with panic as you wait for him to answer.

He seems too tired, too exhausted as he responds. “They gave her an antihistamine, she’ll be fine,” he says with a sigh but then his eyes are full of rage as they rest on you again. “But do you realize what might have happened if we were a bit late?! She could have died!” he yells at you, voice full of unbridled outrage as his eyes grow even more with the passing of time and you feel smaller and smaller.

“I’m sorry!-” you repeat again, feeling incredibly awful with what you’ve done, “-I thought she was just lactose intolerant, not allergic!” you say in hopes of redeeming yourself even just a bit but maybe this wasn’t the right thing to say as it seems Jimin’s anger only grows.

“This isn’t the fucking point, Y/N!”, you flinch at the volume of his voice, “The point is you've been trying to sabotage this for weeks! You think I haven't seen the side-glances and the mocking giggles?! I fucking know you don’t like her but couldn’t you just pretend for my sake? Do you have to go to such lengths to let us all know you hate her?!” he spits at you with wild eyes and you fight the urge to wrap your arms around your frame.

“I didn’t poison her on purpose…” you mumble in explanation and your eyes stare at your feet, not daring to look at him, drowning in shame.

“No, but all the other things were!” he refutes with impatience, but then he sighs. His shoulders fall down but his jaw’s still clenched. “Why can’t you just be happy for me? I know what she did better than anyone, believe me, but people are allowed a second chance, and frankly, it’s not your place to decide if she deserves it or not. All I was asking of you was to be decent towards her because I was stupid enough to think you’re my friend above everything and you’d respect my wishes!” he confesses, face crest-fallen and what you once feared, -him looking like this because of you-, has finally come true. You can feel your eyes watering but you can do nothing to stop them.

“I am your friend!” you respond desperately with pleading eyes, trying to stop him from questioning how much he means to you. If only he knew exactly how much.

“Are you really?”, he questions back, “Because the rest of the guys are my friends too and they don’t have a problem with her. It’s just you! And if you can’t accept her and be happy for me then…” he stops, eyes falling on the floor, refusing to meet your gaze and you have an awful feeling blooming in the pit of your stomach.

“...Then we’re better off as just roommates,” he delivers the final blow.

You can’t believe your ears. There’s no way, no way.

You feel your throat closing up. “...You don’t mean that…” you mumble in denial, eyes blurry and voice almost breaking at the possibility of losing your best friend.

Jimin still refuses to look at you, his lips pursed as he shakes his head. “Yeah? And you said you’ll support me no matter what so I guess we both said things we don’t mean.”

“Or I guess that was just you,” he says in a final tone, eyes serious this time on you before he turns towards your door to leave your bedroom. To leave your life.

You can’t breathe.

“Jimin-” you manage to stutter out although you feel like choking. You can’t lose him, you simply can’t.

“No, Y/N, you can’t just-!” he snaps back but stops himself before saying anything else, pressing his lips together.

Then he takes another breath. He collects himself and before you manage to stop him, he closes the door on his way out with a loud bang.

And you can’t move. Your eyes simply stare at the door, refusing to let any tear drop and you purse your lips, feeling a mixture of stubbornness and sorrow.

He left. How could he? How could he push you aside for her?! You’ve been friends for a little more than five years now and he ruins your friendship because of her?! Her?!

You rush to lock the door behind him with blurry eyes, putting the blame on him as for now you need this to stay sane.

Tomorrow you’ll know that everything was your fault.

But for now, you choose to believe otherwise.

You step back from your door, crossing your arms on your chest in defiance.

“If he doesn’t want to be friends then we won’t be!” you exclaim in an attempt to salvage your broken ego but once those words are out of your mouth, once they finally feel real, you can’t stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks.

You have to cover your mouth to drown the sound of your sobs.

You can’t let him hear.

At that moment there’s a knock on your door, before “Y/N? It’s Seokjin, can I come in?”

His voice is quiet, calm, reminding you that he and Hoseok probably heard everything. You can’t deal with it. You can’t deal with any of it.

“Go away, Seokjin…” you mumble with a low voice in order to hide the fact you’re crying.

You hear him sighing. “Come one, at least talk to me-”

“Go away!” your voice is coarse as you yell back, for a second not realising it was you. You know you're gonna regret yelling at him later, but you just want to be alone.

There’s silence on the other side. Then the echoing steps of someone leaving.

And then you break down in the middle of your room.

Alone.

The only sound coming from your quiet sobs.

.

.

{Jimin’s POV}

Keep it together. Don’t lose focus now just because she looks like she’s about to cry.

It’s easier said than done, but Jimin manages to remain focused on what he came here to do. Even if it’s just barely.

He can’t go on like this. Maybe if you were happy for him and actually supported him, things would be different. But when you act like a spoiled baby that didn’t get her wish with no excuse whatsoever when you were supposed to be okay with Dinah… there’s not much he can do.

Not when your behaviour acts as a false beacon of hope. One he can’t afford to see. Otherwise, he might do something he can’t take back.

He’s got to be firm and decisive.

So he turns around to leave before he takes it all back.

“Jimin-” he hears the breaking in your voice, knowing how much this may weigh you down but all he can feel right now is unfairness. It’s unfair how he wants to move on but with one single word he finds his resolve crumbling.

You shouldn’t affect him this much.

“No, Y/N, you can’t just-!” he begins but stops himself. What was he about to say? Something he shouldn’t, probably.

Still, you stop talking. And you just stare at him, with disbelief written in your eyes. He avoids those in favour of staying true to his words.

There’s no saying what he’ll do if he meets them.

So, he simply leaves your bedroom.

Marching through the small distance between your door and his, he can see Hoseok and Seokjin, from the corner of his eyes, staring.

They probably heard everything.

He steps into his bedroom, closing the door behind him, needing some space. To calm down, to take a breath, to finally think about what he just did.

You looked like you were ready to break down at any moment.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been that harsh with you. Maybe he was a bit too hasty, too vengeful in making that decision.

Someone knocks on his door.

What if it’s you?

His steps can’t take him to his door any faster.

But it’s just Hoseok.

“... what?” he hears himself get defensive once he sees your door still closed shut behind the other man.

Hoseok stares at him with understanding. “It doesn’t have to be like that, Jimin…” he comments with a soft voice, always knowing how to approach Jimin when he’s angry, better than anyone.

Jimin sighs, still feeling stubborn but he knows by the end of what Hoseok has to say, he’ll almost certainly listen.

“... Let’s talk about it okay? I’m sure Y/N wants that too…” at those words Jimin swears he feels a small pinch of pain on his chest. He wishes they’re true.

“Seokjin is also gonna talk to her…”

But those words manage to bring his stubbornness back full force.

There’s a chuckle coming out of Jimin but none of it sounds happy.

“Of course he will…” he snaps at Hoseok, who bites his lip once he realises his mistake. “Yeah, Hoseok, I think I’ll pass,” the bitterness is evident in his words, not bothering to hide it from the one person that knows the cause of it.

Hoseok’s eyes widen once he realises Jimin is about to close the door on him. “Wait, Jimin, don’t-”

“Goodnight,” is what Jimin simply says before closing the door on his best friend.

.

.

He can’t be sure when everything began to change. He can’t place a finger on the exact moment his feelings had changed.

On the exact moment, he fell in love with you.

Was it the moment you walked through the door as a roommate applicant? He can’t be sure. But somewhere along the way, the feelings bloomed, outgrew everything he ever felt for anyone.

He just was a bit late at realizing it.

When he woke up after you slept together and his eyes rested on you as you slept, he felt a pain in the middle of his chest. But it didn’t feel like a regular pain, it felt like his heart was expanding like he was experiencing growing pains. Because while he stared at you, he realised there was nothing else he’d rather do. You looked so serene, so at peace sleeping next to him, he never wanted the moment to end.

And that’s how he realised.

Of course, he had to push his newly-found knowledge aside when he saw you nearly going into panic mode. Just because he felt like this, didn’t mean you did too.

So he hid those feelings, playing it cool for the sake of being your friend.

But this shit was difficult when he was surrounded by you twenty-four-seven.

Right before Seokjin’s birthday he had sworn he’d finally tell you. He thought that maybe, just maybe you’d like him back, or at least he’d get to have a weight lifted off his chest.

But then he saw you hugging Seokjin…

He wasn’t trying to spy on you or anything. He was just trying to reach the bathroom when he saw you wrapping your arms around Seokjin. Around the guy you had a crush on for the past few years. It was like a stab to his stomach, even more so when he knew you weren’t really into hugs and when you did hug someone, it usually meant a lot to you.

Jimin couldn’t believe his eyes. He also couldn’t believe how much it hurt and how much he needed something to distract himself.

Or, rather, someone.

That’s how Dina came along.

He never intended to string her along this far though. At that night she was just a distraction, someone familiar who knew how to take care of him, despite everything that had transpired between them in the past.

But Dinah kept trying, kept fighting vigorously for that second chance and he couldn’t help but acknowledge how much she’d changed over the past year. So he let her back into his life, hoping that at least she’d help him forget about you.

And it worked for some time. Until that night.

Until the night you were supposed to go on a date with Seokjin and cancelled it because of him - he’s sure of it even if you vehemently denied it back then-. The night you were dressed on that tight, little, black dress, the one that reminded him of that night eight months ago and suddenly his mind was going haywire with thoughts, or rather, memories of you.

He swears he saw hunger in your eyes when his palm was on your thigh, scorching both of you at the connected spot and if it wasn’t for Hoseok’s interruption, he was sure he’d’ve lost control.

Jimin hates to admit it but that night he kept thinking of you, of your eyes, of your lips, of the way your thighs had fit around his waist back then, of the sound of his name falling from your lips as he touched himself, trying to drown his moans onto his pillow.

He couldn’t talk to you after that for a couple of days. Too ashamed, too embarrassed, too enamoured with you, he thought you’d be able to see right through him.

But once things got back to normal, they were ruined once more.

Dinah appeared at the worst of times at New Year’s. He was so close to letting you know how he feels, encouraged by your reaction when you ditched your date for him, which was another green light for him at the moment. But Dinah showed up and you were out of there before he even got a chance to explain.

Hoseok had found him then, drinking away his sorrows.

“And the worst of all is, she’s dating Seokjin, which I now realise makes me a big jerk and an awful friend as I keep trying to steal away his girlfriend,” Jimin mumbled before downing the rest of his drink.

Hoseok seemed perplexed but that might have been from the near-alcohol-poisoning he just had before Dr. Ana “nursed” him back to health. “And remind me, how are you sure she’s dating Seokjin? They haven’t told us anything yet…”

Jimin stared into his drink, already sort of tipsy on alcohol and self-pity. “Saw ‘em huggin’...” he mumbled behind the glass. Hoseok had to do a double-take at that.

“What?” Hoseok responded in disbelief. “That’s it? Dude, I do that with Seokjin all the time, that doesn’t mean I’m dating him!”

Jimin sighed in annoyance. “It was more than that okay? There was this feeling to it! I could tell it wasn’t just a simple hug!” Jimin groaned as he rubbed his face with his hand.

Hoseok rolled his eyes at his friend. “Still you can never be sure by just a hug! Have you talked to her?”

“No, I tried to but Dinah came in and she left as soon as she saw her…” Jimin admitted and Hoseok almost laughed out loud at his friend’s idiocy.

“Bro, if that isn’t a sign to talk to her, then I’m not dating the most bomb person in the whole ass world.”

Jimin wasn’t impressed as he cocked an eyebrow at his friend.

Hoseok wasn’t deterred. “I can see you have an objection here and it’s a complete disgrace to Ana’s name, so Imma pound you to logic city later, you limp dick, but right now you need to talk to Y/N!” he concluded as he shoved Jimin out of his stool.

Jimin groaned as he stood up, but as his eyes fell to the bottom of his drink, he realised Hoseok was right. He should’ve talked to you first. Maybe he had misunderstood and there was nothing going on with Seokjin.

And right then as he saw you bumping into Seokjin, he figured it was a great opportunity to find out what was happening between the two of you from both parties involved.

But as his steps got him closer and closer, he saw you kiss him.

He froze. He couldn’t look, couldn’t bear, but still, his eyes stayed glued to the both of you as your arms circled around his neck to press him closer.

Jimin felt like vomiting.

He turned around right then and there and walked away. He needed to get out of there. He gave Dinah a half-assed apology as he also sent her on her merry way and he left for his apartment. He couldn’t even tell Hoseok why he was leaving the party, only announcing his departure and disappearing.

It was the first time in years he spent New Year’s alone.

He hated it.

.

.

{Y/N’s POV}

You’ve done the worst sleep in ages.

You rub your eyes, immediately regretting it when the slightest touch has them stinging from how swollen they are from all the crying.

Right. It wasn’t just a dream.

You drag your feet begrudgingly across the floor to the bathroom to splurge some water on your face, in a futile attempt to calm down your puffy eyes. Before you’re off to the kitchen where Hoseok is currently eating his breakfast cereal.

Once he hears the sound of footsteps, he raises his head, only to see you awkwardly walk in the kitchen, eyes downcast as you go for the fridge.

“Hey,” you hear him say.

With your face facing the inside of the fridge you take a breath, letting the low temperature calm you down.

You knew it was coming. Hoseok definitely listened to everything along with Seokjin. And yet you don’t feel like replying.

Nonetheless, you turn around and acknowledge him with a tilt of your head as you move to have the coffee machine working.

“So… How you feeling?”

The question prompts a humourless chuckle out of you and Hoseok sighs in response.

“I know, that’s a lousy question. I just…” he takes a breath, eyes gentle on you, not at all judgemental as you’d expect them, after what you’ve done yesterday, “I mean I know Jimin’s side of the story, but I never heard yours…” he concludes, letting a soft smile take over his features.

Huh. Your side of the story.

You swallow the lump in your throat, but the words don’t come out. Instead, you resolve to looking down at the floor as your hands grab tightly at your empty cup.

Hoseok, sensing your hesitation, sighs resigned but he doesn’t push you on it.

A moment passes when both of you remain silent until your coffee is ready. You pour the liquid into your cup, almost moaning in relief you don’t have to stay here another second.

But before you get to leave Hoseok speaks up again.

“I know things may look like a mess right now but I’m sure this won’t be the case forever. Jimin… yeah, he’s mad but you're his best friend. He’s gonna change his mind soon…” Hoseok’s gentle words reach you and, oh god, how do you want to believe them.

You turn to look at him and see the hope written in his eyes.

You give him what might have resembled a smile if you weren’t feeling so beat-down.

“You didn’t see the way he looked at me Hobi…” you whisper and Hoseok’s face falls just a bit at how broken you sound.

“Things will change, I’m certain of it,” still he replies, eyes full of determination that make the slightest sliver of hope go through the cracks of your sorrow.

Right then another pair of footsteps echoes as Jimin walks into the kitchen.

His sudden arrival has you both freeze, eyes resting on the newcomer and while Hoseok keeps on looking at Jimin, you’re quick to avert your gaze, the lump in your throat growing.

A second passes where Jimin doesn’t move forward or backwards. Like he isn’t sure if you could be in the same room anymore after yesterday's events. Your heart pangs at the thought.

He coughs awkwardly.

“I didn’t know you were awake, I can come back later-” he begins softly, eyes avoiding yours as well, making the pain grow a little sharper.

“No, it’s okay, I was done anyway…” you interrupt him, hands gripping tightly at your steaming cup as if it is a life board.

And without another word, you’re out of the kitchen.

.

.

{Hoseok’s POV}

A week passes by and it seems there’s no hope for reconciliation on the horizon.

Both of you went the extra miles and rearranged your schedules to avoid each other as much as possible. Jimin spends nearly every night at Dinah’s, barely seeing the others and you spend days locked into your room under the pretence of writing, but really you’re just avoiding everyone.

The rest of the guys don’t know what to do anymore.

It’s a Friday afternoon when Hoseok is over at Ana’s place, the mood in his apartment too heavy to bear and he can’t bear this anymore.

“Babe, I’m back, they didn’t have any vinegar chips so I bought oregano instead. Can you imagine the disgrace?” he shouts as soon as he steps back into the apartment, after a small walk to the seven eleven down the street.

But instead of hearing his girlfriend’s welcoming back, he hears her sigh. Then he sees her walk around the corner from the kitchen with her phone pressed to her ear like she’s in a conference call.

“I still don’t understand why won’t you just tell him!” Ana speaks on the phone, sending a tired wave to her boyfriend who looks at her entirely confused.

Hoseok just takes his shoes off and plops himself on the couch, sensing Ana won’t be done with that phone call anytime soon.

There’s a silence from her side as she listens intently to what the other person is saying. Hoseok decides to open the bag of chips just to keep his hands occupied.

After a while, Ana talks again.

“But what if she doesn’t tell him?” she? First, she mentioned a “him” and now a “she”? Hoseok’s getting more confused by the second.

“And what about Jimin then? Doesn’t he deserve to know the truth?” her voice is stern, like a mother berating her child and a sound of understanding leaves Hoseok’s lips, as he concludes Ana is talking to you.

There’s a small silence from your side, indicating no response to Ana’s question and so she keeps talking.

“And I’m talking about the whole truth Y/N.”

Hoseok’s intrigued. What whole truth?

“I know I was the first person to be against telling him about your feelings but with how poorly you handled the situation, I don’t think you can possibly make anything worse!”

At that, Hoseok’s eyes blow wide open. Feelings?! What feelings?! 

He’s immediately up, approaching Ana with quick steps as she listens to your response. Your voice, even though muffled through the phone, sounds weaker, sadder. Disheartened.

Ana’s words are softer now. “But you’ll never be able to do this. You’ll never be ready but, the truth is, no one ever is. That’s kinda how it goes and that’s okay. But you gotta do it at some point, sooner or later,” she talks to you calmly, Hoseok sensing her sorrow at hearing you like this.

But he can’t shake the feeling that he can somehow help if he finds out what those feelings are.

Ana sighs tiredly as if what she just said didn’t have much of an impact. “Y/N-” but before she gets to respond you hang up.

Ana gasps while staring at her phone. “She just hung up on me, I can’t believe it, how dare?” she says to no one in particular as she rubs her hands on her face tiredly.

“Tough luck?” Hoseok comments wrapping his hands around her waist. Ana welcomes the embrace, her hands winding around his neck as she rests her head on his shoulder.

“She just won’t listen! She’s so infuriatingly stubborn and it’s driving me nuts!” she blows a stray hair out of her face, accidentally tickling Hoseok’s skin in the process and he chuckles.

“Kinda like you then?” he teases as he finally pushes that stray lock behind her ear and she pokes out her tongue at him in retaliation before falling into peaceful tranquillity.

Hoseok hates to disrupt this but he has to ask her what all of those things meant. For the sake of Jimin.

“Hey, babe…” he begins and Ana hums in acknowledgement.

“When you talked about Y/N’s feelings…” he feels her stiffen in his embrace but nonetheless he carries on, “... what did you mean?”

Ana takes a breath. “I guess there’s no point in not telling you now…” she speaks softly before taking another breath, one Hoseok holds until he hears her answer.

“Y/N… she likes Jimin. Well I mean that’s what she says anyway. I think it’s way more than that…” Ana admits sadly but Hoseok’s mind goes into overdrive.

“Are you serious…?” he asks in what can be perceived as a calm demeanour but in reality, his head is about to explode.

Ana chuckles calmly, still in Hoseok’s embrace. “I know right?”

Oh my god, they’re both idiots, he thinks. But he has to do something now.

“Oh god, those giant baboons!” he almost yells, making Ana flinch and take a step back to look at him perplexed.

“Hoseok…?”

He laughs incredulously as he takes a step back, trying to process the situation.

“For how long?” he asks and Ana looks more weirded out by the second.

“Two months, give or take?” Ana responds with narrowed eyes.

Hoseok chuckles. “That’s…” when Jimin started going out with Dinah, of course, it all makes sense!

“Seriously our friends are the worst idiots ever!” he complains once more.

“Okay, now do you mind telling me what’s going on?” she retaliates, getting irritated with her boyfriend and his tendency of not explaining anything for the dramatics.

“Jimin likes her back!” he shouts out loud, the magnificence of what he found out too overwhelming to bear.

Ana’s eyes widen. “What? How can that be? What about Dinah?”

Hoseok narrows his eyes at her. “He began dating her again after that one night stand that only happened because he saw Y/N hugging Seokj- Wait! What about Seokjin?”

Ana seems confused. “What about Seokjin?”

“Isn’t Y/N dating him?”

Ana almost bursts out in giggles. “What? No! Of course not! Why would you think that?”

“Cause of the hug!”

“So what, a simple hug means automatically they’re dating each other?”

“Well, we all know Y/N hates hugs, plus she had a crush on him so it would be believable- Wait, that’s not the point. So Y/N isn’t dating Seokjin?”

“Nope. Never did,” Ana concludes as both of them fall into the same realization.

“So Jimin did all that stuff…” Ana begins, not quite believing the absurdity of the situation.

“...Because he thought Seokjin was dating Y/N,” Hoseok admits tiredly.

“We gotta tell Jimin,” Ana grabs her phone to punch in his number before Hoseok stops her.

“Wait…” he stares at the phone, the cogs in his mind whirling before his eyes light up.

“I got a better idea.”

.

.

{Jimin’s POV}

Sweat still drips down his forehead as Jimin bids goodbye to his students, after the end of his contemporary class. He reaches for his water bottle and heads for the teachers’ lounge where his stuff is before he gets to his last class.

He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand before pressing the now lukewarm bottle on the nape of his neck, to get some sort of relief.

Once again, his focus wasn’t entirely on the class. It has been like that ever since your fight, but at least it started getting better as time passed. Still not at its best though.

He finds himself feeling guilty more than he thought he would. Guilty towards you, towards Dinah. It’s a mess.

Admittedly, he was really mad at you but as he got to think it over, he realised he acted too rashly in cutting you off. And he misses you already.

But the thing is… you haven't made a move to reconcile either. That could be because you’re afraid of him pushing you away again. But shouldn't you make the first step? If you did, Jimin is sure he would forgive you on the spot.

He shakes his head tiredly as he enters the teachers’ lounge and reaches for his backpack. Everything’s a mess.

And then there’s Dinah. Dinah who’s changed, who’s kind and understanding. Dinah who he strings along and who’s possibly already aware of Jimin’s use of her as a distraction. They both know that, even though Dinah’s changed and everything’s seemingly fine, the relationship is doomed this time around as well.

Although this time it’s Jimin’s fault.

He needs to come clean to her. He has to end this.

Right then his phone begins ringing.

Once he sees the contact name, he’s a little less willing to answer it.

“What do you want?” is his response once he picks up and there’s an awkward chuckle at the other end before the caller finally replies.

“Whoa, okay, forward, can’t you buy me a drink first, champ?” Seokjin tries to make the tension disappear unsuccessfully, resulting in Jimin not even answering that particular quip.

He hears Seokjin sigh on the other side, before “Anyway, can’t I just call my friend to see how he’s doing? It’s been a while since the last time we talked…” the other man admits cautiously and Jimin’s defensiveness slowly ebbs away to give place to additional guilt. He’s the one blowing off all his friends because he wants space. Or more precisely, he thinks, because he’s a coward, too afraid to really deal with the situation, so instead picking the easy way out, at the expense of his friends.

He rubs his face with his hands, before letting out a breath. “Yeah, I know, things have been kind of…” Jimin trails off but Seokjin hums, as if he understands what Jimin means without him having to say it out loud.

“Yeah…” Seokjin agrees quietly and Jimin feels more horrible as time goes by. When did he begin to feel such animosity towards his friend? They used to be really close ever since they worked together at the same shift, and now Jimin can barely be in the same room as him. It’s not Seokjin’s fault in any way and the truth is Jimin’s animosity arises not towards Seokjin but more towards himself.

He has stuff he needs to work on.

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about…” comes Seokjin’s response that has Jimin sitting up straight in his seat, terrified of what his friend wants to talk to him about.

And it seems his fears were not unjustified.

“How long have you liked Y/N?”

There it is.

Jimin takes a breath, panic trying to take over him but he wills it to go away and answer his friend. Even if he’s terrified to do so.

“I…” he begins, audible shakiness colouring his voice, “... how do you know?”

Seokjin doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Hoseok told me…”

Jimin takes another breath, one full of guilt.

“Look, I… I’m sorry, I didn't mean for it to happen, it just did! And I know it’s awful of me to have done this but, yeah, for some time I had thought of acting on it. But now that I know for certain you’re together, I wouldn’t even dream of-”

“First of all, Y/N and I are not together.” Seokjin interrupts the babbling idiot and Jimin stops mid-sentence.

He blinks, uncertain. “I… what?”

Seokjin sighs with a chuckle. “Y/N and I aren’t dating,” he repeats.

Jimin opens his mouth like a fish, in complete and utter shock. “But… but I saw you…” he states full of doubt, almost like a question.

He can almost hear Seokjin raising his eyebrow. “You saw us doing what?”

The lump in his throat doesn’t make this any easier. “I saw you kissing a-a-aand-and hugging!” he retaliates, trying to support his reasoning.

Seokjin sighs once more, the gesture coming off him naturally by now. “Okay, she kissed me because she wanted to avoid a dude she ghosted, I had little to no say in this!” Seokjin responds in a typical Seokjin fashion.

But Jimin has more questions. “A dude she ghosted?”

“Yeah, she was supposed to go on a date with this guy in my restaurant but blew him off for some reason…”

Wait.

“When was this?” Jimin asks, eager but nervous to find out the answer.

“A couple of days before Christmas.”

So that wasn’t a date with Seokjin but just a rando?

God, Jimin has fucked up big time.

“And what about the hug?” he asks for the last time, to make sure he resolves any misunderstanding.

“What hug? Oh, you mean on my birthday? Dude, that was just her coming clean about her past crush on me and us moving past this like a couple of adults.”

Jimin’s throat constricts uncomfortably but in unbelievable hope. “Past crush?”

Seokjin’s smile is nearly audible. “Yeah, “past”. Know why? Because she has feelings for someone else.”

And just as easily as Seokjin has given him hope, he just as easily rips it away.

“Oh…?” Jimin barely manages to utter, voice almost breaking alongside his heart. “Who?”

Seokjin groans on the other side, taking Jimin wholly by surprise by the irritated tone in the older man’s voice. “Oh my god, you really are both idiots,” he says almost to himself, “You, you soggy tit! Do you really think she did all that to Dinah simply because she didn’t like her? No, she was fucking jealous!” Seokjin concludes, voice rushed and angry to berate his friend and finally put an end to this huge mess.

But Jimin hears only one word.

You.

She has feelings for you.

The girl he’s been in love with for nearly a year now, if not more, has feelings for him. Reciprocated feelings.

Is this real? Is this a fucking dream from which he’ll wake up in the morning, feeling shittier than ever?

But Seokjin said she was jealous. Jealous.

“She- She was? Seokjin, just…” he stops himself to take a calming breath, refusing to believe this just yet, “Please, don’t joke about this, I’m not gonna laugh,” he warns his friend. He can’t bear to have his heart messed with any more than it already has been.

“Does it sound like I’m joking? Believe me, I wouldn’t, we’re all too invested in your shit, it’s not healthy.”

Jimin can’t believe this. He wants to, desperately, but what if it’s not real? What then?

“I…” he swallows his nerves, “She really has feelings for me?” he asks, not unlike a hopeful child. God, his heart is about to burst.

“Yeah, buddy, I know it’s hard to believe when I exist!” Seokjin tries to lighten up the mood with a joke.

Jimin doesn’t laugh.

“...Too soon? Sorry, anyway, I thought you should also know Y/N really feels awful for everything and if there’s one thing that can confirm that, is the fact she apologized to Dinah,” Seokjin concludes carefully.

Jimin doesn’t know how to respond.

“But if you don’t believe me… Ask Y/N herself.”

But he knows what to do.

.

.

{Y/N’s POV}

You’re washing the dishes, alone at home for another hour at the very least as Jimin’s classes end in one hour.

Should you go to Ana’s? Ugh, but Hoseok is there.

Maybe you should just hole yourself up in your room for the scarce time Jimin will be here before he’s off to Dinah’s.

Which reminds you of earlier today.

In Dinah’s defence, she handled your apology quite gracefully, in contrast with you. You were a babbling mess, trying to put your thoughts into place and at first, she was suspicious of you, but once your visit made sense, she seemed to understand. Something even you couldn’t at times.

She accepted your apology with a calm smile, confusing you even more as she said she appreciated your effort to put all of this behind you.

You were glad she seemed to not hold it against you although, honestly… you don’t think you deserve it.

You have no idea if she’s planning on telling Jimin or not and quite frankly you’re terrified of what he’ll say if he finds out.

Once you’re done with the dishes and close the tap, you hear the front door open and close, assuming it’s Hoseok back from Ana’s.

“Hobi, is that you?” you ask before turning around, only to almost choke on your own breath when you see Jimin instead.

He’s standing just in front of the door, not going forwards or backwards, as his eyes stare at you. Serious, careful but calm. No anger residing in them. Just awkwardness as he seems to not know what to do with himself, as he simply rests in place and somehow a tiny drop of hope begins to bloom.

“I… Don’t you have classes?” is the first thing you manage to get out of your mouth and he takes a breath.

“I had to get out early…” he responds and you can’t help but focus on the “had to”. Did Dinah talk to him after all?

“...Why?” is your careful question, when in reality your mind is in a state of disarray. Is this a good sign? A bad one? Is he here to restore your friendship to what it used to be or finally cut ties with you and move out?

Your mind is gonna short-circuit.

“I…” he begins, eyes falling to the floor. Then he takes another breath. “I had to talk to you,” he says.

Oh god. This is it. You’re done.

Your throat closes up as you blink quickly trying to stop your eyes from welling up. Damnit, you already cried so much about this, you shouldn’t have any more tears left!

He takes a tentative step forward, eyes finding yours once again. But they look… soft, tender. Apologetic.

“I… I’m sorry. For the way I acted,” he breathes out and your eyes widen, having to do a double-take to make sure you heard right. “I was too harsh on you, basically taking out my nerves on you and even though what you did was awful, I shouldn’t have taken such drastic measures. I took it too far by saying we shouldn’t be friends and I’d like to take it back if you want to…” he concludes, observing you cautiously.

You’re left staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. Is he serious? Did he just apologize to you like he was the one at fault?

“Jimin, oh my god, you shouldn’t have to apologize, I should!” you rush to say, instinctively grabbing his hands to soothe him, completely missing the taken aback turned loving look in his eyes.

“I acted way out of line and truth be told I think I needed that as a wake-up call. You were right, what kind of friend am I if I don’t try to get along with the girl you’re dating?” you continue, too self-conscious to be able to look Jimin in the eye, instead staring at your joined hands with a new kind joy.

You got your best friend back. And if keeping him means you have to bury your feelings for him, then you’ll do it. For real this time. Whatever it takes to not lose him again.

Jimin chuckles in response. “Used to date,” he corrects you.

This time though you can’t help it when your eyes snap back at him. “What? What do you mean?”

Where you expected to be a sorrowful expression, there is none. Instead, Jimin is looking at you with a soft smile, a serene one, one that matches the peace in his eyes. “We broke up,” he says and you can’t find the proper words to react to this.

“Oh… H-how so?” you say instead, unwillingly holding your breath.

Jimin’s eyes rest on your face for a moment, that damned smile still gracing his lips, before his eyes fall to your hands. “I guess you helped me realise some things with what you did,” is his cryptic response.

But before you get to question his answer his eyes turn stern, with a note of mischief hiding in their corners. “That does not mean what you did was okay, though,” he says, pointing his finger at you like a teacher disciplining a child and you chuckle at his attempt of lightening up the mood.

“Believe me, I know. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself…” you respond, rubbing a hand awkwardly at the base of your neck, still awfully aware of your other hand still connected to Jimin’s.

“Well…” he says quietly, his eyes on your joined hands, “Good thing I did then…” he mutters, his thumb running over the back of your palm soothingly and once your eyes meet his, you know you’ll be okay.

.

.

After that talk with Jimin, -that ended with the both of you watching Space Jam and cuddling to sleep-, everything is once again back to normal. The past week has been amazing compared to the one before it. You find yourself smiling all the time as your friendship with Jimin is back to its prime, laughter and joy returning to your shared apartment.

Your group returns back to its routine, hanging out together in front of the TV, roasting Hoseok for his abundant sexual energy, you know, the usual.

And yet you feel like something’s changed. More particularly, with Jimin.

You catch his eyes on you more than once, more than what could be considered normal but ever since you made up the two of you haven’t been left alone once. The guys are always around and, really, it’s not like you don’t want them to be but there’s always something hanging from Jimin’s mouth, something he wants to say but never does due to their presence. It’s slightly unnerving, reminding you of that night outside your bedrooms when he wanted to say something but didn't.

You can’t tell if it’s good or bad. All you know is suddenly your knees shake when he looks at you for too long and you have goosebumps whenever his skin touches yours.

So that’s why tonight you chose to sit on the lone armchair as he sits next to Hoseok on the big couch and Ana is placed next to Seokjin on the small one.

Somehow the conversation managed to go on that New Year’s party and Seokjin ended up spilling about your kiss.

“You said “we take this to the grave”!” you respond with a low voice, trying to mimic him unsuccessfully as Ana and Hoseok stare at you with eyes wide as saucers. Jimin, for some reason, looks unresponsive to the news yet he laughs at your bad impression of Seokjin.

Seokjin at least has the decency to look guilty as Ana’s scandalized eyes turn to you. “You kissed?!”

You raise your hands in defence, for some reason avoiding to look over at Jimin. “I didn’t do it on purpose! Well… I kinda did but not with the motive you’d assume,” you rush to explain, though Ana is less than satisfied.

“Oh then with what motive? Please amuse me, hoe,” she responds, crossing her hands on her chest and you huff out in annoyance.

Seokjin answers her. “Well, obviously, she wanted a piece of all that. I’m pretty irresistible to all humankind,” he jokes lightly and you suppress a snort.

“Yeah, no, this ain’t it, chief,” you rush to say, suddenly nervous, not wanting anyone to think you’re still into Seokjin.

Actually, replace “anyone” with just “Jimin”.

Seokjin gasps in offence. “What in the world do you even mean?! You’re lucky I kissed you and not just because you got rid of that dude! I’m a pretty good kisser, no scratch that, I’m an excellent kisser, a connoisseur of kissing if you will!”

“I think I won’t be able to kiss anyone after that…” Hoseok responds which makes Seokjin gasp once more before he looks over at you.

“Y/N, tell them the truth. How my kissing is so utterly magnificent, it could end world hunger!” he says before actually hearing what he just said then deciding against it, “Nope, can’t do that, sorry, that’s on me.”

You chuckle at his antics, although a bit reluctant to actually reveal the truth.

“Actually…” you start.

Another gasp resonates. “Don’t “actually” me! Just tell them!”

You turn to the other guys with a roll of your eyes.

“Look, it’s not like you were a bad kisser per se. It’s just that it was a bit… lackluster?” you finish, almost afraid to see Seokjin’s reaction to the reveal.

Jimin suppresses a chuckle, Hoseok oohs from the side and Ana’s eyes widen in surprise.

Seokjin looks at you with disbelief.

“Lackluster?”

You rush to make amends. “I mean it’s okay given I took you by surprise, but due to that crush I used to have on you, I had this notion of a kiss full of passion. And that one just… didn’t have it.” 

Seokjin pouts angrily at you before crossing his arms on his chest as Ana pats his shoulder soothingly. “I can’t believe you just said my kiss didn’t have any passion.”

You shrug. “Well, it didn’t,” you say as a matter of a fact before Ana jumps into the conversation.

“It’s probably a good thing your kiss didn’t have any passion, it just means your friends. No chemistry there so don’t beat yourself up too much, champ,” she says with an affectionate pinch on Seokjin’s cheek, who ponders on her input.

“Yeah, Ana is right!” you rush to agree. “It’s because we’re just friends! When you find someone you really like, believe me, it’ll be nothing like that,” you go off track a bit as certain memories reappear. “It’ll be full of passion and yearning and not getting enough of each other, you’re not sure if you can go on without kissing them!”

And somehow by the end of that, your eyes fall on Jimin’s and stay there.

Because he stares back.

“Okay, I think we heard enough about Seokjin’s kissing techniques,” Ana comments, breaking the spell and your eyes fall to your lap, fire residing in your cheeks.

“I just have one last comment on what I think Seokjin could’ve used but didn’t cause he’s a wuss,” Hoseok jumps in.

“Tongue.”

A round of gagging noises is heard around the apartment.

.

.

The hours pass by smoothly and soon everyone’s getting sleepy. Seokjin leaves early, having to go to the restaurant first thing in the morning, leaving the rest of you to clean up.

Once again Jimin picks up the trash with Ana as Hoseok helps you do the dishes. The apartment falls into a comfortable silence with the occasional chatter between the four of you while you clean up. Hoseok is to sleepover at Ana’s so when you’re all done the couple bids you goodbye, heading to Ana’s apartment.

Leaving you and Jimin totally alone.

Which is something that shouldn’t scare you but for some reason your nerves are going through the roof.

“Are you done with the kitchen?” Jimin asks from the living room, where he’s rearranging the pillows on the couch.

“Yeap! Just finished!” you call back, your voice a bit higher than usual and you cringe internally before clearing your throat.

“Good, I’m going to bed then,” he responds as you walk out of the kitchen.

“I’ll walk with you,” you respond with a smile, following him into the corridor.

You walk in comfortable silence, but still, you find yourself getting nervous as you walk side by side. It doesn’t make any sense.

Once you reach your bedrooms, both of you turn around to face each other, seemingly unwilling to depart just yet. Jimin looks at you with a soft smile as you grab at the opportunity to talk to him.

“Jimin, I just… I’m really happy we got past that and again I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused,” you say in what seems like the hundredth apology this week.

Jimin’s smile grows fonder as he shakes his head gently. “I told you, you should stop apologizing, I’m no longer mad at you,” is his quiet reply as he tilts his head, his eyes staring at you in a way it makes your heart race.

“I know I just… That week we spent not talking to each other was the worst week of my life and I…” you pause searching for the right words, but no words could ever describe the magnificence of what you’re feeling right now, the desperation of wanting to have him in your life. So you simply stare at him, out of breath, hoping he gets it.

His smile is one of the best things you’ve ever seen and you know he does.

You smile back. “Anyway, I’ve gotten too sentimental…” you chuckle, clearing your voice to sound more collected.

Jimin giggles softly. “Happens to the best of us…” he responds gently and you have to remind yourself to not stare. Even if he does and it makes you feel out of breath.

You nod with a smile. “Well…” you respond nervously, yearning for the moment you’re alone in your room, free of all this tension. “Goodnight,” you say simply, turning around to get to your door.

But a hand wraps itself around your wrist, turning you around suddenly. Your hands naturally fall to Jimin’s chest as his palms wrap around your waist and hair as his lips fall fervently on yours.

Your mind goes into overdrive and you can only kiss him back.

His plump lips wrap around your own softly but with an intense sense of urgency, a soft gasp falling from your lips as your hands are quick into grabbing his shirt to pull him unbelievably closer. You respond with just as much hunger, letting your mouth move fervently against his own, pushing more and more against him, aiding his hand that’s tangled in your hair, gripping the locks as if he can’t get enough. Then both of his palms are on the small of your back, holding you close as if fearing you’ll leave. But you never do and that makes him press more against you until your back hits the wall next to your door.

The impact makes Jimin lean back just enough to stop the kiss, but his eyes still remain glued to the image of your swollen lips, as you almost lean after his own.

Your heavy breaths mingle in the otherwise quiet corridor, his hands still on your waist, yours still on his open shirt as you try to wrap your mind around what just happened.

“Did you mean something like that?” comes out his gruff, deep voice that sends a shiver down your spine.

His question brings you back to the earlier conversation about a perfect kiss and you can’t control your breathing any more than your beating heart.

You nod quickly, eyes still on his lips. “Yes,” is your breathless answer.

Jimin’s still breathing heavily as his eyes land once again on your lips.

“Good.”

And then he’s kissing you again.

And, fuck, you can’t get enough.

Your palms land on his neck as you stand on your toes to reach him better and his hands wrap around your waist to keep you in place.

Fuck, you’re kissing him. You’re kissing him and he’s kissing you back. As if he’s a man starved of your kiss and he needs anything you can give him.

But then he stops again and you almost groan out loud.

“You need to stop doing that…” you exhale with an affected chuckle and he chuckles as well.

“I just… I need to talk to you before anything else happens….” he whispers and even though you know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, you can’t help but feel a pang of fear in your chest.

“I…” he says, eyes dazedly looking at your face before he takes an encouraging breath.

“I want you to know that this isn’t like last time. It’s more, it means more, I-” he stops once more, voice trembling as he refuses to look anywhere else but you.

His words give you hope but for the first time in weeks, you welcome that hope. You welcome that glorious feeling to settle deep in your chest because you recognize that warm glint deep in his eyes.

“I’m in love with you,” he reveals and you swear your heart will burst. There’s moisture in your eyes but you will it to go away.

“You are…?” you ask with a small voice and Jimin smiles at you, all happiness and comfort. There’s a fuzzy feeling in the middle of your chest and at this moment nothing makes any more sense than you two.

“Yes. And I spent the past year trying to run from it…” he admits carefully as he slightly crouches down to meet your eyes.

“I’m not running anymore…” he concludes, a spark in his eyes and you’ve never seen him more sure for anything in his life.

There’s a whirlwind of emotions in you. Relief, hope, undeniable joy. It makes your throat close and for a few seconds, you can’t answer him. You only stare back and hope he understands like so many times before.

“I-” you manage to choke out with a weak voice but he’s quick to shush you, before kissing the inside of your palm.

“I know…” he responds softly, still holding onto your palm as his eyes find yours. You can’t look away, couldn’t if you wanted to.

And then you can’t stop smiling, and he’s smiling back and before you know it you’re kissing again.

Happiness rolls like a current between, from all the places your bodies touch, you can’t contain it so you keep on kissing fervidly, hands touching whenever they can, mouths moving in tandem like it’s natural. Like it’s the way it’s supposed to be.

“God, I have so much I want to tell you…” he whispers against your lips before he’s diving back in, tongue reaching out to meet yours.

“Me too…” you reply after a few seconds, pushing him closer as your fingers tangle in his hair. “But not now…” you whisper sternly, pushing your chest against him, needing to feel more of him.

He curses under his breath, the sound sinful, licking his lips before he’s kissing you again and his hands fall lower down your back to rest over the swell of your ass.

You moan in appreciation when his hands grab at the tender flesh, making you arch out so he has better leverage. There’s a throbbing between your legs and you resist grinding on him just yet, to drag it out as long as you can.

Jimin’s lips move down the column of your throat as his body cages you against the wall, hands keeping your hips still as he wedges one leg between yours, so his thigh can press upright against your mound.

You moan again when he leaves a particularly deep hickey on your skin and your hips instinctively roll against his thigh, your hands holding on to his back afraid you might fall.

He chuckles darkly against your skin. “Still into thighs I see…” he mumbles before biting softly at your earlobe, a shiver running down your spine.

You bite your lip before, “Correction, still into your thighs…” you admit as you roll your hips slowly on top of his thigh, starting to feel that delicious warmth building up in your stomach, making you feel dizzy.

Jimin almost bucks into you with a low moan, as his hands are certain to leave marks on your hips as he struggles to remain sane.

“Fuck… Although I’m really tempted to just fuck you here, we should probably move…” he murmurs between kisses to your collarbone and you have half a sane mind to agree. The other half is already picturing him doing it either way.

But before you get to move, his arms are quicker, lunging under your thighs and you instinctively wrap them around his waist with a surprised yelp. His palms are resting right on top of your ass, subconsciously pushing you closer, making your insides burn in anticipation.

There’s a smirk on his lips as he licks them, eyes roaming your face to make sure you don’t have second doubts. Although your eyes are glued to the movement of his wet tongue.

When he realises this, he’s quick to move towards his room as you choose now as the perfect moment to lick and suck bruises on his neck, not able to deny yourself any longer.

“Shit… Y/N, if you keep this up I’m gonna drop you…” he mumbles with a stern but clearly-affected voice and you smile in victory before softly biting at his skin, savouring his taste on your tongue.

He kicks his door open before he carefully lays you on his bed, lips immediately after your own as you reach for his neck to desperately press more of him against you.

Your palms move down his chest, grabbing the edges of his flannel to push it off his shoulders, leaving him in his T-shirt and jeans.

“Why are you wearing so many clothes…?” you ask breathlessly, immediately reconnecting your lips like a woman starved and Jimin chuckles, grabbing the hem of your T-shirt instead and pushing it upwards. You sigh in relief as soon as your heated skin is free, yearning to feel more of his skin against yours.

“Just trying to keep myself warm,” he comments rushedly as he discards the piece of clothing somewhere behind him and his eyes fall to your covered breasts. He curses, lowering his face to kiss down your collarbones until his lips reach the bare top of your tits. His mouth leaves a wet trail behind that’s making you gasp as your thighs rub together to gain some relief.

Jimin notices and chuckles darkly before biting your bottom lip. “You want any help there?” he teases and you groan out loud with a pout.

“Yes, but please take your clothes off a little bit faster. It’s making my dick soft,” you whine, bucking your hips towards him.

He pins them down between his own legs, forcing them to stay still. His fingers toy with the waistband of your leggings as your breaths turn heavier while only looking at his eyes.

“Aw, so I won’t have my ass rawed by your dick? Such a shame baby…” he teases once more with a sinful smirk and the last word has your eyes rolling back into your head.

“Fuck, say that again…” you murmur, arching your chest upwards as you feel moisture gather between your legs, just by the single mention of a nickname.

Jimin laughs out loud as he moves to get your leggings off and you’re quick to aid him. “Is this really what turns you on?” he comments playfully as he leans in, lips kissing the underside of your jaw.

“No, I meant…” you stop, suddenly self-conscious, “... the other part…” you mumble quietly, turning your face to the side, knowing a deep red has taken over your cheeks. It’s not simply about the nickname or the tenderness in his voice as he said it. It’s about what it represents, what you already heard from his lips but you simply can’t have enough of. It makes everything real.

Jimin regards you for a second before, “What? Baby?” he asks, rather innocently and yet you still can’t look at him, too embarrassed as you nod.

Jimin’s eyes turn softer as he bites his lip to contain his smile. Fuck, he’s so in love.

He moves to press a tender kiss to your jaw. “Baby,” he repeats slowly, before resting his lips on your collarbones and you sigh in content. “Baby…” he says again, leaving a kiss in the valley between your breasts, making your breath hitch. “Baby…” he moves lower, dragging his plump lips down your torso as your breaths quicken, the sound of the nickname having your heart making somersaults.

“Baby…” he whispers lowly one last time, the tone completely different, darker, more promising. His eyes rest on you as his face now lays above your panties. Then his hands are hooking behind the waistband, dragging the material down your legs and he bites his lips at the sight of your glistening folds.

“God, I wanna taste you so bad…” he says almost to himself and before you get to react, he hooks your legs on top of his shoulders and his tongue lands with kittenish licks on your clit.

An involuntary groan escapes you, bucking your hips into his mouth for more. And yet he maintains his pace, sending waves of pleasure up your body but never enough to get you where you want to. You can’t help the movement of your hips as you crave for more friction, his movements delicious but never enough. Jimin pins your hips down, tsking you before he presses a kiss at the junction between your thigh and cunt.

“You’ll get what you want, baby, all in due time…” he says sternly, his voice low, sending shivers down your spine as his mouth returns to your clit, and you bite your lip to drown your moan.

Though now, he leaves aside the kittenish lick to wrap his mouth around the swollen nub and suck it between his lips.

A loud moan breaks free from your lips, heavy pants resonating as his plush lips envelop your clit, finally giving you more, moving expertly against your folds and your hands find purchase on Jimin’s locks to press him more against you.

He lets you do as you please while one of his hands travels up your torso, pushing your bra’s cups down to toy with one of your nipples.

The added pleasure has you cry his name in ecstasy, losing all control of your hips as they move against Jimin’s face, as if they have a mind of their own, chasing after your high like a madwoman.

And as one hand tugs at your erect nipples, the other finds this chance to move down your body and trace around your entrance, making your pussy clench in anticipation. Before finally pushing two digits inside your velvety walls.

“Jimin!” you almost sob, your hips furiously chasing after your high as you feel the warmth building up more and more inside your stomach. 

His fingers keep thrusting inside you, slowly at first to let you get used to the intrusion, before he picks up the pace, moving them quickly, roughly inside you. Knuckles deep as his fingertips find that little soft spot inside your walls that has your eyes roll to the back of your head.

And when you open your eyes and see Jimin staring you back with darkness and lust in his own from between your legs, the band snaps.

You come with a loud moan, riding your orgasm against Jimin’s tongue, as the pleasure seems too much, too intense. But then the feeling starts to fade away and Jimin lets you relax as he leaves butterfly kisses against your thighs.

You try to catch your breath as Jimin’s kisses move upwards, up your stomach, to your breasts until he’s kissing you again. Your hands move to wrap around his neck, never having quite enough of him.

“This is not fair, you know…” you chastise him playfully, kissing his underjaw when a quiet moan rolls from his tongue.

“What’s not fair?” he asks, trying to keep up with the conversation but judging by the way his hip rut against you, you know he’s struggling.

“The fact I’m completely naked while you still have your clothes on…” you observe with a cock of your eyebrow and a smirk grazes his lips as his finger tugs at the elastic of your bra and lets it snap against your skin.

“Ah but you’re not completely naked…” he teases against your lips as his fingers move down your body in a sensual caress.

But being you, you take that as a challenge. So you push him slightly away just so you can move your hands behind your back and unclasp your bra with one movement.

Jimin’s eyes go wide as you flick the undergarment across the room, swallowing heavily before his eyes return to your bare chest.

“Now I am…” is your witty retort as you subtly arch your back just so he can have a better view. He stands there staring at you for a few seconds before he curses and moves quickly to get rid of his clothes.

You giggle at his impatience when he ends up stuck in his T-shirt, sporting an adorable pout. “Easy, baby, I’m not going anywhere…” you joke, sitting up to help him take off his t-shirt with a soft smile, one he reciprocates as he moves to unbuckle his pants.

“Well, it wasn’t me getting too impatient to- Wait…” he stops mid-sentence after taking his pants off. A spark of realization has entered his eyes before he turns to you to meet you with a teasing smile.

“Did you just call me baby?”

Your eyes widen in shock as a blush creeps into your cheeks and with a scoff you lightly shove him for daring to make fun of you.

“Y-you said it first, genius!” you try to justify yourself with a frown, but Jimin’s smirk only grows as he pushes aside his pants and crawls towards you.

“Yeah, but I’m not the one that spent more than half her life refusing to call her partners that because it’s cheesy…” he comments playfully as he traps you beneath his body once more.

“Even if the rule never applied to her…” he smiles teasingly at you, brushing his lips softly against your pout, reminding you that even if you never called your partners “baby”, you never stopped them from calling you that.

You purse your lips together as you look at your fidgeting hands, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. “Well…” you begin, swallowing the lump in your throat, “...you’re different…” you mumble quietly, not really ready to look at him even if you know he feels the same.

That has him halting, and as he sees you too uncomfortable to go on, he doesn’t say anything else. He presses a soft kiss to your knee instead, wishing to convey everything he feels as well through that small kiss.

The movement of his lips on your skin is so tender that has your heart flutter and, while he looks back at you, his smile puts your embarrassment to rest. Because he’s here for you because he feels the same.

“I know it comes a little late but… Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, eyes stuck on your face, tracing your features as if he hasn’t really seen you before, not until now.

The question has your heartbeat quicken even though it’s completely unnecessary. Though your lips stretch out in a smile as you nod.

Jimin leans closer, eyes on your lips as if he’s under some spell. You suppose it’s the same you’re under.

You let his lips envelop yours gently, hands tangling in his hair as you both find yourselves moving back until you’re lying down with Jimin on top of you.

Your hands are greedy to explore his body, even though you’ve done so before. Though that time you’re main motive was to get off, so now gives you the perfect opportunity to get reacquainted with his body, to map out every little detail to memory, until he’s the only thing you see.

His lips move lower to kiss and bite at the column of your throat, eliciting the sweetest moan from your lips that sound like music to Jimin’s ears.

Your breaths get quicker, hands moving recklessly to get rid of the remaining piece of fabric that separates you. Jimin rushes to help you, throwing away his boxers, now standing in his complete naked glory.

There’s nothing else to say, not really when a single look can convey everything you feel without unnecessary words. And the way Jimin looks at you right now makes you feel like you’re in heaven. Like you’re cared for, safe and content right here in his arms.

His hand brushes a lock behind your ear and the motion is so tender, loving, it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Are you ready?” he whispers softly, eyes gentle, ready to back off if you say so, reminding you of yet another reason you’re so helplessly in love with him.

You simply nod, too afraid to talk but your smile is all it takes for Jimin to go forward.

He grabs the base of his shaft, eyes glued at that spot between your legs with anticipation. He moves forward, guiding his tip through your folds, going slowly in case it’s painful but the look of pure bliss on your face and the way your walls welcome his cock has him losing control and going the rest of the way in with a deep thrust.

Your nails claw into the skin of his back with a loud cry while Jimin breathes deeply against the skin of your neck, making goosebumps rise on your skin.

“Fuck, I-...” he exhales, lost in the feeling of your pussy wrapping around him like a grip. “... You okay?” he says breathless, eyes searching yours for anything that’s not okay.

A breathless chuckle escapes you as you press your lips on his jawline. “More than okay. But please move.”

“Oh, thank god….” he mumbles before pulling out and thrusting in again. His movements are slow, yet the perfect pace to help you build up slowly but surely towards a second high.

Jimin rolls his hips with the expertise only a dancer could possess, driving his cock deeper and deeper with each roll, hitting that spot again and you can’t help but close your eyes to savour this feeling.

Shallow breaths leave you as his pubic bone brushes against your clit with each motion, driving you crazy.

“Ugh, you feel… mm’ so good…” he mumbles between thrusts, letting his lips land on your breasts, to suck lovebites on your skin.

“Jimin, fuck…!” you cry out, high-pitched moans escaping you as your hands go to his ass, coaxing him to drive his cock even deeper.

He growls from above your chest before you feel his palm cupping your cheek. “Open your eyes for me, love…” he mumbles quietly and you have no choice but to comply.

Opening your eyes, you’re met with Jimin’s piercing ones, staring at you intensely, burning with unspoken feelings that are too easy to recognize. After all, you feel them too.

You move to the side to kiss the inside of his palm before you smile at him.

He smiles back fondly at you before his hands move to lace his fingers with yours at each side.

“Keep your eyes on me, love…” he whispers before moving again.

This time around, his pace is slightly quicker, his cock hitting your sweet spot with renewed vigour and yet you can only concentrate on his eyes. His eyes that stare at you with such fondness and love it makes your eyes water.

You see the frown on his face before he stops moving in concern, yet you push your heels on his ass to keep him going.

“No, it’s okay, I’m okay, keep going…” you say, almost choking with the emotions overwhelming you. “It’s just that… I can’t believe I’m so lucky…” you admit softly, an unbelievable chuckle escaping you as you stare at him with what you hope he sees as undeniable adoration.

He smiles at you again, -you think you’ll never get tired of that smile-, before he leans in to kiss away the stray tear that flowed free from your eyes.

He picks up the pace once more, resting his forehead on top of yours, as shallow moans roll off your tongue. Your high keeps approaching, you can feel it and still you’re only focused on his eyes. Soft grunts escape him as he drives his hips into you, getting closer to his high as well, his hands grasping yours as if they’re a lifeboat.

He brushes his lips gently against yours before “I love you…” he mutters against you and you think your heart is gonna burst.

You press another kiss on his lips before, “I love you too.”

And then you don’t say anything else as your high approaches and after a few more thrusts you both come entangled in one another, each other’s names on your lips.

You lay like this for a few moments, with Jimin’s body on top of yours as both of you struggle to catch your breaths. Then your eyes find each other again and everything seems so clear, so right.

You can’t stop smiling at each other like lovesick fools as you fall asleep next to each other, at last content.

.

.

When Jimin wakes up the next morning he thinks it was all a dream.

But as his eyes rest on your peaceful sleeping form he knows he could never dream something as perfect as this.

He can’t help the lovesick smile taking over his lips as he looks at you through sleep-ridden eyes. He shuffles closer, resting his face on his hands to get a better look while you sleep soundly next to him. He feels like he can never get enough of you. Not now, not ever.

Suddenly your body begins moving though your eyes remain closed and Jimin figures you’re still asleep.

“Stop being creepy…” you mumble with a sleepy smile and Jimin grins too, realising he was wrong.

“I’m not being creepy…” he argues softly, still smiling. You pop open one eye to look at him unimpressed before you yawn and open both your eyelids.

“Oh, yeah, ‘cause it’s super romantic staring at me while I’m asleep, where can I find another man like that…” you tease him with a drowsy smile as your eyes find his.

He groans dramatically though his smile still remains. “You’re unbelievable…” he mumbles, his voice still gruff from sleep and you have to suppress a shiver before shuffling closer.

“I know but you love me…” you mumble against him before kissing his lips slowly. He lets himself get lost on the kiss before you lean back and he licks his lips to savour your taste.

“And now you can’t take it back!” you exclaim out loud before smiling mischievously at him.

Another groan breaks free from his lips. “Already regretting it…” he comments, checking your reaction from the corner of his eyes.

You gasp as if offended by his quip. “Well, maybe then I’ll just leave so you won’t regret it anymore!” you respond, gathering his sheet on your chest as you make a move to leave his bed.

But Jimin is faster, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you back on the bed, crawling on top of you with a predatory smile.

“Now, now, let’s not result in desperate measures…” he dives in for another kiss.

You can’t help but smile again as you kiss him, hands circling around his neck as he softly bites your bottom lip.

“Careful sir. You might trigger something dangerous here…” you whisper seductively, moving one leg so your thigh can rub against his already half-hard member.

Jimin’s smirk only grows. “Mmm, maybe I like danger…” he responds before his lips envelop yours once more. His hands travel beneath the sheet, tracing your skin before they move lower and-.

A loud bang echoes through the apartment, surprising both of you before a booming voice is heard through the walls, one that belongs to none other than Hoseok himself.

“Have you fucked yet or nah?!”

Your eyes widen, face immediately growing red. Jimin looks at you with an apologetic smile and before you get to ask why Hoseok is asking that, said man bursts into the room.

There’s a sudden explosion of sounds, you screaming as you hide beneath Jimin, Jimin cursing at Hoseok as he pulls the sheet to cover you both and Hoseok whistling at the image before him.

“Woah! You finally did it buds, I’m so happy for you!” he cheers you on as he steps inside to fist bump a very angry looking Jimin and a very visibly confused you.

“Hoseok, excuse my french, but what the fuck are you doing here?” Jimin is positively seething with his friends' interruption but as you see Hoseok basically beaming at the both of you, you can’t help but giggle at the absurd situation.

“I came to see if my buddies finally worked it out! And you did, finally! Can you imagine if you hadn’t and I’d burst through the door screaming that? That’d be awkwaaaaaaard!” he comments, too cheerful to notice Jimin’s deadly stare and you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing.

“Right. That would’ve been awkward…” Jimin comments sarcastically though Hoseok still seems oblivious as he sits on top of the bed with a happy smile hanging from his lips.

You’re about to burst into giggles as you watch Jimin’s eyes growing wider in disbelief and you’re certain he’s gonna kill Hoseok any minute now.

“I’m so happy for you guys! My besties are finally dating!” he comments full of joy and Jimin is about to have smoke pouring out of his ears.

“Hobi, we’re happy too but I think it’d be better for you if you left…” you comment with a smile, pointing with your head at Jimin who’s about to lose it any second.

Hoseok’s eyes widen finally in realization. “Oh, whoops! Right, right, I’m leaving, keep going, stallion, show her how it’s done!” Hoseok throws finger guns at Jimin as he leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

As soon as Hoseok is out of earshot and you turn to look at Jimin you can’t help but burst into giggles by how absolutely mad he looks.

Though when you start laughing, Jimin’s incredulous stare turns to you. “Why are you even laughing?!”

Even though his ominous stare is directed at you, you can’t stop laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just too funny!” you say breathlessly through your giggles.

“Too funny?!” he asks incredulously before his gaze turns dark. His eyes have your laughter dying in your throat and instead another feeling rising up at the pit of your stomach.

“I’ll show you funny…” he whispers sinfully before he lunges forward and you forget what you were laughing at for the rest of the day.

There are more important matters to tend to.

[sapphirecrook]

Down Here, With Friends

((Spooks and scares. I stayed up all night, because I just felt the urge to write about the unsung hero. The core of every animatronic. And the journey the game implies they go through to become real, as it were. I can't imagine its easy on anyone on either side.))

“Geezes christ, this place is giving me the chills already.”

She gulped as her eyes saw down the hallway. It looked like a mixture of industrial logistics, service tunnels and a daycare. Bright colors, large posters, greased up conveyor belts and that distinct hint of bare piping. A unique taste for even the most seasoned basement dweller.

Not to mention the lighting wasn’t great either. Being underground is one thing, but between each light was a solid foot of rather harsh darkness. A person could stand in the corners of the shadows with ease.

Saying she didn’t want to be in this cold, humid place is an understatement. The Mega Pizzaplex already had way too much rubber in its uniform diet, and this took the cake. At least the engineers and technicians had a reason. Or were the odds of her getting manhandled by greasy metal fingers that high?

Not to mention she felt out of place. Like she belonged in a daycare for snotty kids. Stain repellent rubber, for one, bright whites and pinks was another. Her name in a cutsie… point is, she hated it. Like a prettied up lamb about to get devoured by a dragon she’d never met.

“You had your warning. Management is cruel. You’re on Endo duty.”

“How is any of this real? Isn’t this like, shit you have programmers with a degree two miles long do? Not some lady who barely knows how to operate a forklift?”

Her assistant, dressed in equally gaudy gear, shrugged. He was a guy, yet it was a dress. Gold instead of pink. Seniority in rarity.

“That part’s done. The endos have… learning systems. You’re basically teaching a few hundred pounds of metal to be an adult.”

She peered down the hallway again. The sight of partially dismantled and destroyed STAFF robots told of exactly why she didn’t want to be there.

“Sure you can just use a conveyor for that.”

“If they are murderous, its better to have a trained staff member handle the fallout than a customer. Or so I am told.” He tapped his clipboard and his foot. “There’s also no… well… orientation.”

“Into the frying pan?”

“Sorry to say yes, Makali. I’d apologise, but you’re not here because of your good behavior.”

“Seriously, at least tell me how this is supposed to go!” She insisted, and he relented. With the kind of dramatics better reserved for a child asking how sex works.

“You sit in your classroom, do the questionnaire and the scenarios described using your helper and the props, and if they pass on all grades you give them on to the next in line.”

A thick hefty helping of worry struggled down her throat.

“How is this legal?”

“Never asked. Don’t think it’ll help either. Enjoy your five nights in hell, and don’t become a repeat customer. Unless you want my job for some ungodly reason.”

He slapped her on the back with the clipboard and pulled her right along.

-

Normally, daycare rooms are comforting. Or at least too silly to be threatening. The bright lights, the colorful walls, the decorations of smiling people and animals, the padded surfaces. It’s safe and non-offensive.

Makali feared for her life. In front of her was a list of instructions, printed on paper that she knew was waterproof enough to take a few leaks. And not the kind she’s emotionally ready to handle. Her painted nails clattered on the surface, as she just waited.

The dang STAFF bot terrified her too. It just sat there. Waiting. Like her. But with no expression, no ticks. No air nor lungs to breathe, no muscle or imperfections. It was a stationary artpiece loaded to move on her command. A piece of props behind her. Cake, first aid kits, fake children dolls.

Is this how she dies? Is this position a lie? Is the next thing coming in a giant wheat thrasher that tears her apart, limb from limb, until her dying breath is a formal apology as accepted by the management?

Honestly, that seemed preferable to reality. At least that was a certain end.

Hashtag relatable, she thought.

The door on the other end opened. A cutesy door that slid right up and down again. Her eyes went wide, her skin felt tight. Every hair on end, she could count them if she wanted. Her sweat ran cold, and for a moment breathing seemed impossible.

What sat in front of her was.

Okay, so, she’s a cook. She barely sees any animatronics as is, since they usually just slide by. Even Chica mostly ignores her post since she doesn’t do pizza. She never even considered what they looked like without the shell.

Steel.

Wires.

Like a skinned human made of synthetic material.

Eyes are to the world with minimal eyelids.

Clawed, sharp hands. Bare hands. Skeletal.

Broad shoulders, like a giant bulldozer.

Loaded springs, ready to snap.

And a muzzle, waiting to crush her skull.

On some primal level, her body refused to work.

It just sat there, politely. Hands folded on its lap, sitting straight like a kid freshly scolded. Perhaps it was unsure if it was even allowed to talk, but it commenced when it became clear Makali needed a push.

“I was told.” It said with an undefined cadence. “You wanted to ask. Me some questions? Miss. Ma. Ka. Li.”

It sounded like a child. High pitched. Curious. A little nervous, a little excited. Its movements are so stiff, unnatural. It tilted its head. Then its ears moved. Then its eyes. ALl in sequence. It clearly took some focus for it to act.

“I… I… yes. Uh…” She glanced down. “Your name?”

“I am. Endo 89. Hello.”

“And what do you want to do?”

“I want to. Entertain the children. Make them. Smile.”

Did it know? She wondered. It had to. It broke every sentence to sound like the creepiest child around. At the same time, it looked… weirdly innocent. Afraid? It thought very long on its answer, for how simple they were, and added nonverbal gestures whenever there was a moment silence.

It tried so hard. It felt like a ruse.

“Alright. STAFF bot, prepare the table.” She got up.

Crrrreeeak.

These uniforms are absurd, she cursed in her head. She imagined the rubber made sense if you were in the grease back areas where the robotic lubricant practically became airborn, but she was just asking questions here. Dirt and soil repellent, they say. More like a unique form of rock concert.

She handed it the fake pie. Made of beautiful plastics. Faded. A little chipped. Clearly had a bloodied dent from something. Or was it paint? Best not to think too hard.

She was training a murder robot, after all.

“Here. A cake. What do we do when we have a cake?”

It took the cake from her hand. Then it stood up. Then it looked at the table, with the fake child doll awkwardly posed in the crappiest folding chair they could find. And even then it had a dented leg.

It looked back at her. Expectantly. Perhaps it wanted a hint? She hated that stare, and met it. Hoping that it at least showed… dominance? Do robots care? Her thoughts raced. That cake could break her skull open.

“Yes. I deliver the cake. To the child.”

It began to recite a copyright free Fazbear Entertainment variant on Happy Birthday as he walked over. Awkwardly. Stiff as a board. Now, it did its best to look excited, without any real face to speak of.

Since it stood at the edge of the room, it was cast in shadows. Makali became aware of every supportive structure inside of it. She shuddered at the wiring, the quiet sliding of lubricated metal and activation of electric motors. Ready to fall to the floor and cry for her. And cry normally. In horror.

It looked at her sometimes. Well, you might say it ‘looked over its shoulder’, it did not. Oh no. Its head spun, like an owl. With no tilting, it just flipped around and looked at her by moving its eyes. For the briefest moments ,its ‘eas’ dipped. Was it readying to strike?

Clang.

Clang.

Clang.

“Wow. That is… so noisy without the plating, huh? A metal applause. Wow.”

She sat down. It sat down. It looked at her, trying to posture neutrally. She wrote the results down. Trying to posture like she wasn’t thinking about wearing adult diapers to this job. On the plus side, if the dang uniform was so ‘dirt and soil repellent’..

Ew.

Is this what fear does to a person?

More disgusting than part she imagined her brain drooling out her ears as it crushes her head in.

“Well, you’re doing… good. I guess.”

“I am happy. To hear that. Miss. Ma. Ka. Li.”

“Why do you know my name?”

“I have facial. Recognition Software. And you have. A name tag.”

“Huh.” Was that small talk? Focus. It’s working on her guard. “STAFF bot, pull up the child’s pants leg.”

She read the notes. Makali noticed it said “do not have STAFF bot inflict injury”. Why was that there?

“Oh no. Detecting injured customer. Miss. Ma. Ka. Li. Where is the. First aid box?”

She pulled the box onto the table and opened it. Inside was just some… ugh… medical adhesive bandages.

SWIPE.

Her face felt cold.

Wet.

Chills.

Paralysis.

Her vision darkened.

Wetness dripped down her face.

Ice overtook her form..

Its hand hovered there.

Claws extended.

Hair in her eyes.

Wait, it…

Just grabbed a band aid.

And moved to the child.

It applied the bandage. The doll was made of cloth.

The results are disappointing.

“There there, child. Your injury will. Heal in a few. Days. I know that it. Hurts. And hurting. Is bad. Smile. And it hurts. Less.”

Its hands were on the sides of its face. It pulled a big smile, even if it has exactly 0 lips with which to do so.

Makali rubbed her forehead. The rubber sleeves are awful at actually removing sweat, since they only displace. There is no absorption. She wanted to cry. But she was almost done.

“I am sorry. Miss. Makali.” It said, sitting down. Endo 89 had tried its best, and had synthesized a proper variant of her name. Sort of. Wrong ‘A’ there. “Customer safety is. A priority here. At Fezbear Entertainment. Surely you agree. The smile of a. Child is better than. Worries?”

“What do you mean?” She asked, swallowing down a ball of spit, before licking her dry lips.

Its wide, glassy eyes stared at her. They’re way less dead when they’re surrounded by playful palting that resembles wolves and bears. Not to mention its mouth just looked like a nutcracker, designed to kill. It wasn’t a muzzle, but a beak.

“If forced to choose. Between a child and. One’s happiness. One’s. Survival. The child takes. Priority. Staff is expendable.”

The black dots never moved. She looked down at her checklist. Shaking. Her chair creaked quietly. It was oblivious. Or maybe it just didn’t have the power to care.

“Uh… I… you… w-what… do you mean… e-Endo 89?”

“Miss Makali. You are. Experiencing stress. Perhaps you should. Take a break. Fazbear Entertainment is required to tell you you cannot be fired for breaks taken to assure mental and physical wellbeing, however we are entitled to penalize you for excessive use.”

Wait? Why… they actually prebuilt that whole sentence?

Fuck her boss.

“Yes. I am just a little.”

“Am I unnerving you. Miss Makali? Is my presence. Distressing? Would you prefer if? I leave. Or would you prefer. You don’t have to. Be here. Anymore?” Not a word came from her brown lips. “I can help. Relieve you. Of your post. I can help. Alleviate. The stress.”

“T-that’s fine, we can just.”

“I can read. The prompts. From here.”

“That’s not needed.” She drew it to her chest. As if it couldn’t just remember it all. These things remember guests for months!

“Let me answer. The next question. With a question. Of my own. Do you like. Children. Miss Makali?”

“I… guess so? I work here because I think they deserve a good youth.”

“Do you dream? Of being. A child again. Miss Makali?”

“Sometimes. I guess I’d love to experience this place without… working here. But you know, it’s kids stuff, so it's beyond my years anyway.”

“I am here to. Help. Miss Makali. Do you like. Cake. Miss Makali?”

“I do. Like. Cake. Chocolate is my… favorite.”

It stood up. It was as if its entire weight fell on her. She couldn’t move, pressing the clipboard against her nose to shield her mouth. It was so tall. They were all taller.

It grabbed the cake. She heard all ten finger servos… well, all twenty eight. Twentyfour fingers, four for the thumbs. Her brain just started fixating.

It walked closer. Metal stomping on the cushioned floor.

It grabbed her neck. She didn’t even see it coming. It grabbed both hard as a metal vice, yet gentle like a child.

The floor vanished from below her feet.

Her clipboard bounced off the desk.

As did her pen.

Tears in her eyes.

Everything became blurry.

She grabbed the smooth forearm bites.

It stared at her.

It was so… strong.

Stronger than her.

Her breathing grew heavier.

It raised the cake with its other hand.

As if it was ready to shove it in her mouth.

Or collapse her face with it.

Endo 89 reeled up.

“Allow me to. Assist. Eating the cake. Close your eyes. Miss Makalil. Pretend you are. A child. Enjoying. Your birthday. Let your worries. Wash away. It isn’t chocolate. But cake is cake. Cake is nice. Enjoy. Your birthday. Happy birthday, Makali.”

“Please god no! I don’t want cake! That’s not how you eat cake, please no!”

-

Makali doesn’t remember the next… minute or so? She was in her chair. Shaking. A phantom pain consumed her face. A peck of lipstick on the edge of the cake. The machine was saddened. It seemed to understand what it did wrong, at least. Or that it did anything wrong at all.

How close was she to death? Can she ask a day off? Probably note.

Calculated hazards.

Endo 89 seemed upset at least. More than her manager would be.

It sat there, ears down. Sagging. Sulking. Worried.

“T-...th…” The bottom entry of her clipboard.

“In case the endoskeleton exhibits life preserving tendencies, check this box. It is cleared for use immediately, ignoring all prior results.”

This thing was going up there with children. And adults. Humans.

How have they not gotten sued into the ground yet?

“I am so sorry. Miss Makali.” It repeated that a bunch. Endo 89 insisted it was only trying to cheer her up.

“It’s fine. I guess… you’re cleared for use.”

“That is nice to. Hear Miss Makali.” It was getting better with her name. “I hope you have. A great day. And reduce your stressors. Miss Makali.”

Endo 89 left. It walked down the halls. It went to where it was told to go. It had no choice, and faced destruction at any moment. It knew, on some level, that it was disposable. And that every human it saw was against it. They might escape if it fought its way out. But Endo 89 took the other route. The one where they might impress. Where they might earn some semblance of life in this house of smiles. Maybe it could become famous. Loved by many. Or at least gain a group of close friends. And live a happy life. Leave others happier.

Just like Makali.

[ibelongtonegan]

Triple Play (Negan/Reader/Simon one-shot)

This fic was originally intended to be my entry for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash​​’s birthday challenge ages ago, but then life and a moody muse turned it into a forever WIP. And yet I just could not get story idea out of my head and did not stop until it was completed.

My prompt was “Technology – Walkie Talkies”.

Summary: some secrets are better left untold…or are they?

Characters: Negan x Reader x Simon

Word count: 5,616

Warnings: angst, dirty talk, smut, swearing

Tags (tagging my forevers and those who expressed interest in this fic at some point): @negans-network​, @i-am-negan-trash​, @emoryhemsworth​, @ridingmoxley​, @ladysyn, @sleepylunarwolf​, @letsby​, @tatertotandcassie​, @annablack1102​, @genevievedarcygranger​, @daisysouthmoore​, @hughxjackman​, @ofxallxwexlost​, @negans-wife​

I appreciate feedback and most days don’t bite. So don’t be shy to comment, message or ask me anything!

“Okay, Y/N, your turn. Dwight, Negan, Simon,” Laura chirped, her voice hissing with static. 

Your lips curled up into a wide grin as you raised the radio to your mouth.

“Fuck Negan, marry Simon, kill Dwight.”

“Damn, girl. That was quick!” Arat’s laugh echoed through the speaker. “You could have at least pretended to think about it for a minute.”

The Virginia sun was beating down with all its might as you made your way through the field in the knee-high grass. You retrieved the water bottle from your backpack, but the few gulps of lukewarm water did little to wet your parched throat.

Negan had sent out a search party for two workers who were stupid enough to break into the storage room and steal various supplies, but not smart enough to take a car to make their escape. It was just a question of time before they were captured, but you hoped it was going to happen before dinner. It was Friday, and tonight’s menu was going to be mac ‘n cheese. A hot meal and a cold shower, you craved nothing more. 

You wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand while scanning the tree line for movement, but everything looked peaceful. Despite a badly decomposed walker that stumbled out of the forest about an hour ago, the search was uneventful. To kill time, Arat proposed to play ‘Fuck, marry, kill’ on the back-up channel, which she swore was safe from prying ears since nobody ever used it.

“Poor D, why would you hurt him?”

Laura could not hide the reproach in her tone. She had had a crush on Dwight since forever but didn’t dare to make a move on him, not even months after Sherry had married Negan.

“He’s a good dude, but not my type, sorry, not sorry.”

“Okay, what about Simon?” Arat chimed in. “I didn’t think you were the marrying type.”

The chorus of cicadas fell silent in the background as the transmission ended.

“I’m not, but I can’t fuck him too if I marry Negan.”

“Wait...what?”

An amused smile spread on your lips at the frantic reaction.

“Well, you know the rules. If you marry Negan, you can’t be with anybody else but him, right? But what if I want to fuck both him and Simon? The only way is to marry Simon and cheat on him with Negan. Or better yet, to coax them into a threesome.”

“Okay, I get Simon. He’s funny, has a killer swagger and that moustache must feel like heaven on your pussy,” Laura pondered. “But Negan…I mean, he’s hot, but also volatile, dangerous, and rough. He must be an animal in bed. I bet even his cum-face is scary.”

“I choose to accept the mission and find out for your peace of mind. I think he made Sherry come at least three times last night. Lucky bitch,” you sighed with envy recalling the sinful noises you overheard from Negan’s room.

“Then why don’t you volunteer to become a wife?”

“I worked my ass off to become a Savior, and will not give it up to sit around in the wives’ lounge, eat candy and paint my nails all day. I’d rather keep my job and fantasize about Negan and Simon while rubbing one out at night.”

The conversation was interrupted by your radio emitting a long beep, pulling you back to reality and the task at hand. You stopped in your tracks and switched to the primary channel.

“The search is over, we have the sorry shits in custody,” you heard Negan’s gravelly voice announce, his patience evidently worn thin. “Everybody get the fuck back to base now!”

You felt a pang of sorrow for the escapees. They were no doubt going to receive a painfully thorough ironing after dinner.

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

An hour and a shower later you were on your way to the canteen with Arat and Laura in tow. The scent of melted cheese and spices filling the corridors made saliva pool in your mouth.

You devoured the plate of pasta within minutes and chugged two glasses of water to quench your thirst after the savoury meal. Feeling full and sleepy, you rested your chin in your palm, while Arat and Laura engaged in a heated debate over which of the newbie Saviors they wanted to fuck, marry and kill respectively. 

“Evening, ladies,” Simon stopped by your table, his hands resting on his hips. After giving the two girls a quick nod, his eyes settled on you. “He wants to see you, Y/N, in his room.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion. Negan didn’t summon anyone but his wives at such a late hour and he had never asked to see you in his room before.

“Something wrong?”

“Everything’s A-Okay. The boss man just wants to have a word with you in private. Let’s not keep him waiting,” Simon gestured towards the door, his usual smirk never faltering.

You stood up from the table and gave Arat and Laura a wink before following Simon out of the canteen.

“I thought he was going to punish the escapees after dinner,” you stated rather than asked while trying to keep up with Simon’s long strides.

“Tomorrow,” he muttered under his breath. “There’s another matter he wants to deal with tonight.”

His curt response caught you off-guard, but you attributed it to him being hungry, since you had not seen him at dinner earlier.

Simon led you to the top floor and stopped before a large mahogany double door. Knocking twice, he turned the knob without waiting for an answer, and motioned for you to step inside.

Negan’s quarters looked nothing like other parts of the Sanctuary. It felt like entering the suite of a five-star hotel and you couldn’t stop looking around in amazement. The room was lavishly furnished with furniture and accessories from an expensive interior design store the Saviors had looted on your first run. There was a giant four poster bed to your left, decorated with grey, satin bedsheets and neatly arranged pillows, and to your right a comfortable black leather couch with two matching armchairs surrounding a coffee table. A bar area was set up in the corner complete with leather stools and a selection of spirits. The private bathroom was hidden behind a black door on the opposite wall, but you imagined it to be just as extravagant. Negan had a taste for the finer things in life, like beautiful women, good food and his luxurious apartment was no exception. Your room looked like a mouse hole in comparison.

Negan was sitting behind his desk, several papers splayed out before him next to a tumbler filled with amber liquid. His leather jacket was draped over the back of his seat, but his signature red scarf was still draped around his neck. The soft glow of the desk lamp cast an eerie light on his face. He looked up from the ledger in his hand and beckoned you closer, pointing at the chair in front of him.

Simon strode over to the couch behind you and plopped down, the leather squeaking under his weight. You were surprised to see him stay, but Negan didn’t seem to mind his number two’s presence in the room. He took a small sip of his drink and leaned back in the armchair, studying you with an unreadable expression.

Negan had always treated you fairly, appreciating your scavenging skills and rewarding your hard work. You climbed the imaginary career ladder at the community from common worker to lieutenant thanks to your tenacity, courage and ability to handle Negan’s short temper and crude humour. Along with Arat and Simon you were one of his most trusted soldiers, carrying out his orders and accompanying him on runs. You had been infatuated with him from the start and often found your eyes lingering on your formidable leader, but seemingly he had never expressed an interest in you.    

With Simon your attraction began on your first run to Alexandria, when you were assigned to ride in the same truck and hit it off right away during the long journey. Simon was funny, smart and cute in a rugged way, and soon the two men occupied your dreams, with the three of you ending up having hot, messy sex on every vertical and horizontal surface imaginable. Yet, you did your best to act professionally around them, not letting your secret obsession interfere with your work.

“Something you wanna tell me?” Negan jolted you from your thoughts. “Anything you’d like to confess?”

“I’m not a religious person, sorry,” you pursed your lips to suppress a smile.

Simon snickered behind you, but Negan seemed unfazed by your cheekiness. He swirled his whisky a few times, his touch leaving random marks on the foggy surface of the glass.

“Okay, forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I took an extra serving of the apple pie at dinner last night. It was too delicious to resist.”

Negan narrowed his eyes at you and stroked his chin, his gloved fingers scraping his salt-and-pepper stubble.

“Or if this is about the crime novel I haven’t returned to the library, I know it’s almost a month overdue, but I still have two chapters left and want to know who the killer is.”

You heard the sound before your eyes could register the motion as Negan slammed down his glass on the desk. You expected it to shatter into a million pieces, but the tumbler miraculously survived the impact, the ice cubes clinking against each other in protest.

“Careful, Y/N. You don’t wanna test my patience.” 

You gulped hard, feeling an uneasy chill go down your spine. Negan was usually up for jokes, but he was evidently not in the mood for them now, and you could not shake off the thought that you were the reason for it.

He stood up and keeping his gaze fixed on you rounded the desk before leaning against it, resting his hands on the edge. His crotch was level with your eyes, and you straightened up in your seat to avoid having to look at the impressive package in his pants.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you opted for honesty.

Negan pushed himself away from the desk and started circling you. His looming presence behind you made the hair stand up on your back, but you fought the urge to turn around.

“I don’t take lightly to my Saviors keeping secrets from me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you asserted but regretted it immediately when Negan’s face appeared in your peripheral vision.

“Bullshit!” he snarled against your ear. “What about that little girl talk over the radio this afternoon?”

His words made the blood drain from your face. Closing your eyes, you wished the ground would miraculously open and swallow you up.

“Imagine my surprise when during today’s run, I heard one of my top gals confess over the back-up channel that she was fantasizing about me and my right-hand man while rubbing one out at night.”

If the blood had gone from your face before, it now rushed right back up as you felt your cheeks grow hot.

“That shit made me very, very disappointed.”

Negan stepped back in front of you, and crossing his ankles leaned against the desk. The intensity of his stare made your heart sink. You tried to guess how much of your radio conversation with Arat and Laura he could have heard. If luck was on your side, he only caught the last part. If not...

…you didn’t even want to go there.

“We were just…joking. A silly chat between us girls to pass the time,” you shrugged, feeling perspiration bead on your forehead. 

Negan studied your face intently weighing your words.

“What do you make of this, Simon?”

“She’s lying, boss,” came the merry retort from the couch.

You head snapped around in protest but Negan grabbed your chin with his gloved hand, forcing you to look at him.

“I think you’re right,” he mused in a sing-song voice, his face so close that you could smell his body wash and the faint trace of whiskey on his breath. ”Get over here and give me a hand, will you?”

You heard Simon’s heavy boots cross the room and stop behind you. Negan gave him a knowing look and before you knew it, your arms were yanked back, and held firmly behind the chair.

“Where were we, doll?” Negan let go of your chin and crouched down in front of you, resting his hands on your knees. “Oh, yes. You fantasizing about me and Simon nailing you.”

He licked his lips slowly and your eyes followed the motion instinctively.

“What’s the matter, Y/N? Cat got your tongue? You were very talkative over the radio earlier,” Negan taunted sardonically.

You closed your legs to put some distance between your bodies, but Negan squeezed your thighs in warning and forced them further apart.

“Tell me what you thought about last night.”

You squirmed in your seat, Negan’s command ringing in your ears in the deafening silence that followed.

“You said that you were listening to me fucking Sherry. What did you think about to get off?”

Your eyes went wide like saucers and you desperately tried to come up with a plausible excuse, but your mind went completely blank. Sharing a kinky fantasy over the radio with your best friends was one thing. But confessing it face to face to the very subjects of it?

“Careful, Y/N,” Negan warned sensing your stalling, his mouth tightening into a thin line. “I want the truth on this one.”

You went limp in Simon’s grip with an exasperated sigh. As much as you hated to admit defeat, they cornered you. You held your head up high and gave Negan a defiant look. If he wanted to hear the truth, you were going to tell him just that, consequences be damned.

“We were in the meeting room, at the usual Monday briefing for the lieutenants. I disagreed with your order, and we got into an argument over it. I knew that I was pushing your buttons but the more riled up you got, the more it turned me on.”

Negan looked at you with a faint smirk, as if the same idea had crossed his mind before.

“You decided that if I was bold enough to backtalk in front of your men, then I would also be punished in front of them. Simon pinned me down on the meeting table, and the two of you took turns having your way with me.”

Negan’s pupils dilated, the primal reaction urging you to continue.

“All the lieutenants were watching us with hunger and envy that they could only look, but not touch or taste me. I was completely exposed and at your mercy, and yet felt safe and in control of the situation, because that was exactly what I wanted. To be taken, dominated, marked and used for your pleasure. You kept teasing me, edging me, until I was a begging mess. And in the end, you came inside me, breeding me.”

Negan tsked with a shake of his head.

“And you were hiding all of this from me? Not cool. You have no idea how not cool that shit is. But don’t worry, we will rectify the situation right now.”

Your heart dropped as the meaning of his words sank in. This was it. You were going to be demoted, lose your friends, the respect of the Saviors and could never go near Negan and Simon again. Or they would kick you out of the Sanctuary even. And all of this because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. Now you knew why the ironing of the escapees had been postponed. Negan had deemed your punishment more urgent.

“You wanna pay close attention to this, because I’m only going to say it once. Hearing your dirty little confession over the radio made me and Simon hard as steel. So we decided to make your wish come true.”

You blinked twice, expecting to wake up from what seemed to be the weirdest dream you had ever had. You were never going to stuff yourself full of food before bed again.

“But I have two conditions. Are you with me, doll?”

You nodded weakly as Negan’s fingers drew a zigzag pattern on your jeans.

“One: as much as the thought of fucking you in front of my men is tickling my balls, I am not letting those fuckers lay their eyes on you. It’s going to be just you, me and Simon.”

The offer sounded more than fair to you.

"Two: you know well I don’t share my gals with anyone, except for when I have a moresome with my wives, and I only allow them to fuck each other because I get to watch. What’s mine is mine.”

Your breath hitched as he moved his hands further up, the tip of his fingers skimming the apex of your thighs.

“But since your fantasy involved my right-hand man as well, I’m willing to bend the rules just this once.”

Heat pooled in your belly as you watched him, mesmerized by his usually hazel eyes darkening to dark chocolate.

“So, tonight I get exclusive membership at your pussy bar, no exceptions. You will be my little breeding bitch only,” he stroked your clothed centre, eliciting a pathetic whine from you. “As for other parts of your body, sharing is caring.” Negan looked up at Simon flashing his pearly whites, before his eyes settled back on you.

You stared at him at a loss for words. One part of you was cheering you on to seize the opportunity and accept the indecent proposal, while the other was adamant that you were going to wake up any minute. Negan lifted his gloved hand to your cheek and traced your lower lip, expecting an answer. You let your body do the talking and opened your mouth to run your tongue over his thumb, tracing a shiny path on the black leather. If this was indeed just a dream, you were going to make sure it would be a wet one. 

“Damn, Simon, I knew she was going to be trouble from the moment we met her,” Negan drawled, his eyes heavy with desire.

Grabbing the back of your head he pulled you up and claimed your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth possessively. Simon pushed the chair out of the way and pressed himself into your back trapping your body between him and Negan. Even through two layers of clothing you could feel the outline of his hard-on, earning a low moan from you.

“Easy, Simon,” Negan grinned wickedly, sucking and nibbling on your neck. “We don’t want her to cum just yet.”

Closing your eyes, you rested your head on Simon’s shoulder to offer Negan easier access to your skin. Lost in the pleasure the two men were showering you with your right hand went to cup Negan’s bulge, while you grabbed the back of Simon’s head with the other and arched your back against him.

“Looks like someone’s eager,” Simon murmured grinding into your ass.

“She’s not the only one,” Negan hissed. “Let’s get her out of these fucking clothes, before I blow my load in my pants.”

He lifted your shirt over your head, and Simon unbuttoned your pants and pulled them off your legs along with your boots. You felt self-conscious standing before the two men in nothing but your underwear but Negan’s lustful gaze and the appreciative rumble in Simon’s chest chased all your insecurities away. Simon unclasped your bra and you dropped your hands to your sides, letting it slide down onto the floor. He went for your panties next, but Negan stopped him with a grunt, reminding him of the exclusive territorial rights he had established earlier.

Simon seemed unfazed by the setback and put his plan B in motion peppering your neck with sloppy kisses. He placed his right hand on top of yours, and guided it from his crotch to your front, tracing your belly button with the tip of your fingers, before slipping them inside your panties and brushing your slit.

His ingenuity impressed you, but Negan didn’t share the sentiment. 

“Hands off, Simon, her pussy is mine,“ he bared his teeth at him.

The primal gesture combined with the possessiveness in his voice made your insides coil with anticipation. Simon held his hands up with a smug look and licked his fingertips, his eyes closing in delight as he savoured the taste of your arousal.

Negan yanked your panties down, the disapproval over your complicity in Simon’s crime evident on his face. Simon kneeled on the ground and lifted the garment to his nose to take a whiff, before letting it fall on top of your discarded clothes.

“I think we should catch up with her, Simon” Negan suggested, his eyes drinking in your nakedness.

He took off his shirt revealing tufts of dark chest hair and various tattoos, some faded, some more recent looking. You heard Simon unbuckle his belt behind you and looked back over your shoulder to steal a glance. He was bulkier than Negan, his muscles defined, and chest fully shaved. You watched the piles of clothes grow by their feet until they stood before you completely naked, their cocks standing proud against their bellies. Simon’s was thick and veiny, Negan’s long and smooth, but both impressive in its own right. You bit down on your lip, yearning to taste them.

“Like what you see, doll?” Negan flicked his tongue suggestively at you. “Get on your knees and show Simon what that smart mouth is capable of,” he instructed pointing down on the ground. “But don’t make him cum yet.”

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” you purred.

“We shall see when you choke on his dick,” Negan replied darkly before turning to his right-hand man. “Show her who’s the fucking boss here.”

Simon didn’t need to be told twice and placing his hand on your shoulder pushed you down on the carpet. You grabbed his cock and gave it a few pumps before licking off the drops of pre-cum oozing from the tip. He sighed out loud, as you closed your mouth over the head and sucked gently, enjoying the salty taste. You swallowed him inch by inch, tracing every vein with your tongue, until he was buried deep in your throat. His hands tightened in your hair to keep you still, eliciting a muffled whine from you, your lips vibrating around his length. When you could no longer fight the need to gag, you began to move, bobbing your head up and down.

Opening your eyes, you searched for Negan and found him getting comfortable in the chair you had been sitting in before. He was watching your every move, legs wide open, stroking himself lazily. You mirrored his pace instinctively and sucked on Simon in sync with his palm fisting his dick. Negan sucked on his teeth as he watched your cheeks bulge rhythmically.

You pulled back and swirled your tongue around the crown like catching drips from a melting ice cream cone. Simon lowered his hand to the back of your head, spreading his fingers wide for a solid hold, and started fucking your mouth with abandon. Your throat was contracting and burning with every thrust but you didn’t mind the discomfort, feeling a rush of blood go to your core from him using you just like you had imagined.

“That’s enough,” Negan barked, but Simon was too far gone in pleasure to listen, his eyes closed, and head thrown back. You kept your eyes on Negan to show him that you had heard him and doubled your efforts, forming a ring with your thumb and index finger around the root of Simon’s shaft, and cupping his balls in your free hand. You knew that you were playing with fire, but the thrill was too tempting to resist.

Negan’s mouth twisted into a snarl and he jumped up from the chair to advance on you, his manhood swinging with every step like a metronome. You felt a sharp tug on your hair and let Simon slip from your mouth, a string of saliva hanging off your chin.

“I said, enough!” Negan repeated and pulled you up into a standing position. “Simon, take a time-out before you bust a nut.” 

You felt him swat your ass hard and yelped in surprise.

“This may be your fantasy, doll, but I call the fucking shots here and will not hesitate to dole out some hard punishment, if you don’t follow my orders,” he seethed.

Still holding you by the make-shift ponytail he pushed you towards the bed and showed you down on the mattress.

“On your back, arms above your head.”

You laid back down against the pillows as you were told. Negan knelt between your legs and spread them apart by your knees.

“Well, would you look at this creamy little mess in here!” his eyes gleamed with unadulterated joy.

Getting on his elbows, he traced your mound with his lips, his mouth barely touching you, the combination of the scruff of his beard and his warm breath tickling deliciously. Your hands fisted the sheets as he licked your pussy from bottom to top, before dripping the tip into your opening, and lapping up your juices with relish. He peeked up at you through his long lashes, watching your reactions. His lips were sticky with your arousal as he ate you out shamelessly as if you had been his last meal on Earth.

You looked to your right to find Simon sitting on the couch, watching the two of you with drowsy eyes. He was trying hard to comply with Negan’s orders, but it was evident how much he wanted to touch himself as he fidgeted in his seat, his cock begging for attention.

Negan moved his tongue to your clit and sucked it between his teeth, the sensation exquisite and overwhelming at the same time. You cried out and digging your heels into the mattress lifted your body to move away from him, but he wrapped his fingers around your thighs holding you in place. His tongue continued its sensual assault alternating between slow, soft flicks, and fast, greedy slurps. The variation of the tempo and intensity combined with the thrill of not knowing what his next move would be was driving you crazy with want.

You bucked your hips to maximize the contact between your bodies, he, however, had other plans and sat back on his heels. Pulling you down by the waist until he was kneeling between your thighs, he lined himself up at your entrance and began grinding against your heat, coating his length with your wetness.

“Negan...” you whimpered and raised your pelvis to make him slide inside you, but he restrained you by putting his hand on your stomach.

“Not yet.”

Getting impatient you reached for his dick, but he slapped your hand away.

“I said, not yet! Simon, come here!”

You felt the bed dip and calloused hands pinning your wrists down on the mattress. Tilting your head to the side you continued to suck on Simon, eager to finish what Negan’s intervention had interrupted earlier.

You arched your back off the mattress as Negan pinched your right nipple and rolled it between his fingers. He grazed your left nipple with his teeth, before sucking it into his mouth and blowing on the stiff peak, his saliva feeling like a cool ointment against your overheated skin.

“Please...” you gasped, not sure if you were asking him to stop or to go on.

“I think she’s learned her lesson,” Simon gritted his words, the sensory overload of your lips on him, and the sight of Negan toying with you pushing him dangerously close to the edge.

“I don’t think so, Simon. But it looks like she will milk you dry any minute, and I want to fuck this pretty pussy raw finally.”

Negan positioned himself at your dripping cunt and slid inside, inch by inch. You cried out in ecstasy from the sweet pressure of him stretching you wide. When he was buried to the hilt, he remained still, and taking hold of your ankles, spread your legs wide.

“Look at that, Simon, how she is taking my big, fat dick like a champ?”

He finally began to move in a painfully slow rhythm, enjoying as your warmth enveloped him. Crossing your legs for a closer fit he placed your feet on his shoulder, the penetration so deep that you let out a cry with every thrust. Your entire body was covered in a thin layer of sweat and your damp strands of hair stuck to your forehead. You were exposed and at the mercy of the two men, but had never felt this free and complete. Tension was building in your stomach and you closed your eyes to absorb yourself in the moment.

Negan, however, pulled out abruptly, earning him a frustrated mewl from you that he rewarded with a slap delivered on your swollen clit.

“On all fours, doll. I want to fill this fertile pussy full of my cum.”

Simon let go of your arms and sat back against the headboard. You rolled over lifting yourself up on your elbows, barely able to support your own weight. Negan lifted your ass up and placing his palm between your shoulder blades pushed you down in Simon’s lap. When he was satisfied with the angle, he rammed into you again, his fingers digging into your hips. 

“Are you going to cum on my cock, like a good girl?” he growled and spanked your ass hard.

You cried out an affirmative and continued to pleasure Simon while chasing your own release. A few seconds later you felt every nerve ending in your body tingle and warmth spread to your core. Your toes curled inward as your body surrendered to the inevitable and waves of ecstasy washed over you, dulling your senses for what felt like several minutes. The vibrations of your moans around him made Simon succumb to his own climax. He started twitching and throbbing, before spurting his seed down your throat. You swallowed every drop hungrily before releasing his softening member from your mouth.

Negan let you ride out your high, and then picked up the speed again. Fisting your hair, he pulled your head back twisting your body in an unnatural shape as he continued to pound you. His hand curled around your neck, his fingers squeezing hard enough to make black spots appear in your vision and blood drum in your ears. Drops of sweat fell from his chest to your ass tickling down to your sides and onto the sheet as he rode you, not losing his rhythm for a second.

His moves became more urgent, until he buried himself inside you one last time. He groaned a series of expletives under his breath before biting down on your shoulder as he came inside you, coating your inner walls with his cum. His fingers released their grip around your throat, allowing much-needed oxygen to fill your lungs and a second orgasm, even more intense than the first, consume you. You collapsed on the bed all strength leaving your limbs, as the room came back into focus, your heightened senses perceiving everything all at once.

Negan rolled off of you onto his back, his arm resting over his eyes, as Simon laid down against the pillows, a sly grin plastered over his face.

“Damn, boss,“ he wiped his brow with his thumb. “If only all dreams came true.”

Your reply was a tired but satisfied hum of agreement. A girl could dream, but making it come true was so much better.

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

You stirred awake at the break of dawn. Taking in your surroundings you realized that you were still in Negan’s bed. It was dark outside, but the first rays of the sun peeked through the heavy curtains. You felt spent and sore, your skin sticky with the remnants of sweat and dried cum. The bitemark on your neck was still tender, but you wore it with pride as proof of Negan’s claim over you. Turning your head, you found him lying sprawled out on his stomach, his breathing deep and even, but Simon’s side of the bed was empty, the wrinkled sheets cold already.

You sat up carefully, searching for your clothes in the dim light, when you felt a strong arm circle around your waist.

“Where do you think you’re going, doll?” Negan’s raspy drawl made you shiver.

“Back to my room?” you looked at him over your shoulder.

“Nuh-uh,” he pulled you back against his chest. “You are staying. I want you all to myself for round two in the morning. And after that I may even change my mind about fucking you at the Monday briefing.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” you tried to untangle yourself from his hold but were easily overpowered after a playful struggle and his expert fingers finding your tickle spot.

“Just sass me, doll, and you shall see, along with all the filthy ideas I have on my mind.”

The alluring promise made you relax against him, dark words whispered in the twilight lulling you back to sleep, and another fantasy taking shape in your imagination already.

[alkhale]

Shoot the Ball (Ushijima x Reader) Ko-Fi request

Guuuurl can I please get like a bunch of accidental run in encounters with ushiwaka plssss I feel like he doesn’t get much love

Here’s the problem with a school like Shiratorizawa.

It’s a big school.

Fucking huge.

Massive campus yet elite, trimmed student body with a very personal class average of students to teachers. Private tutors are offered in every nook and cranny of the libraries, and the dorms are luscious and extravagant.

Unknown to many of your classmates but most of your team members are aware, you got into Shiratorizawa on a favor from your childhood kyudo coach and a hefty scholarship you had to claw your way towards over a bunch of other studious bookworms. 

You’re the leading star on Shiratorizawa’s kyudo club, the ochi from your tachi group, the last person to shoot, the person who guides the rest of the team. You also hold the position of captain in your third year at Shiratorizawa, and kyudo is all you have ever known and love.

But, but, but, but, at a school like Shiratorizawa where a classic, high performance sport like kyudo, a traditional, beautiful sport like kyudo should be fairly popular, your club and your teammates’ performances are always outshone by more high-energy, easily watchable sports.

Shiratorizawa’s sports expect nothing but the highest level of triumphs from all their divisions. From basketball to dressage on horse, each club is required to perform admirably. If you perform well, the more funding you got for your club, the more prestige, and all good things.

Shiratorizawa’s kyudo club is actually high on the list, last year your team placed first at the Inter High and made it to the top four in nationals. Despite all this, despite the fact that you even scored consecutive kaichus, hitting all your marks and not missing a single arrow, making waves in the kyudo community and getting higher renown for your team, your headmaster still refused to acknowledge your club.

You’d come to him, white headband tied around your head, posters ready, armed and prepared to fight tooth and nail for an increase in funds and a spot at advertisements because if your fellow student body just knew about the sport, more people would join, more people would watch, and your club wouldn’t be in danger of closing down after you graduate or declining—

“It’s just not popular!” your headmaster clapped you over the shoulders himself, beaming. “Keep working hard though! Good job last year!”

Because popular and television-worthy, massive poster worthy, constant overhead announcements in the morning and the afternoon about matches, constant offered opportunities for extra credit, belong to certain sports at Shiratorizawa.

Shiratorizawa’s Boys’ Volleyball team.

Every morning you came to school and stared in disgust, not out of a personal vendetta for the guy, but for his whole damn team for taking the spotlight for the past three years you’d been here at Shiratorizawa, at the giant, blown up poster lining your school’s walls, posted in any classroom you two might have together. He flooded the school’s daily bulletin, online articles, even the god damn konbini near your house when your returned home for the holidays.

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Volleyball star, playing for Japan’s national youth team—which was something you did drool over because nationals was your goal for kyudo—and even top of all his classes.

You kinda hated this guy and you didn’t even know him.

But it was no matter because this year you planned to take your team all the way to the top. Everyone at this damn rich school was going to known kyudo and love it, damn it. They were going to sing your praises all the way down the halls, line up outside the shooting range to get a peek at your beautiful team and fall in love with the bow.

All the way to the same stage this rich, boastful school’s especial crowning achievment and pride, enough to get them their own stupid bus, enough to get them their own damn gym, enough to get them their own damn cheer squad and—

Your first real, personal meeting with Ushijima Wakatoshi goes something like this:

I don’t need more protein, I need better results. You frowned, staring at the picture of the protein drink you’d been texted that was apparently quite popular these days, according to your fellow teammate. She constantly sang its praises, promising nothing but the best and urging you to start getting into it.

“Your practice schedule is too rigid!” she lectured, shaking her hands at you as you notched another arrow and took aim. “You’re going to shoot arrows till you’re an old maid! No one will marry you at this rate!”

“Kyudo will marry me,” you said, completely serious. “I’m marrying the best kyudo archer of this era and no one else.”

“He’s over fifty!”

“I like them older anyways.”

While normally you would have ignored your vice captain in favor of your own home remedies, your joints were acting up lately, specifically your left wrist and that was never a good sign. You had a feeling the tautness to the new string you were trying to break in wasn’t doing you any favors either. You needed to keep an eye on it in case it got worse.

I can’t bring this team down.

The school’s mini-grocery was fairly empty at this hour. Most students were back at the dorms and anyone still lingering around should’ve just finished with their own club practices.

The rows were designed so items could be taken from either side, not just one. You browsed the aisle, tempted by the choco-snacks but willing yourself to put another batch of fruits in instead. Have to treat my health like second nature. Results don’t come from potato chips.

“Finally,” your eyes zeroed in on the brightly colored bottle. A hefty size, meant to be poured out in cups and drunk daily. You had no idea how it would taste, but by your vice captain’s face, it couldn’t be too great.

You crouched down, reaching for the last bottle on the lowest row.

A massive hand engulfed yours at the top of the bottle’s cap, swallowing your hand whole.

“Holy shit!” you shrieked, ripping your hand away—only to find yourself unable to do so with the massive hand still laid down over yours. You hit the floor on your ass, gaping in horror at the monstrous palm and the calloused fingers and fearing this was finally the moment you were dragged into some abyss by an unknown creature and killed—

Eyes like olives, flecked with gold.

You stared, caught, unable to move for a second. You’d always thought his eyes were brown. You never noticed the weird lining to them that gave them a sharper look, like an eagle or—

“My bad,” Ushijima. Ushijima Wakatoshi said, his voice a deep, resounding rumble in his chest like a goddamn bear. 

He crouched there, sitting back on his heels, directly across the aisle from you, peering through the metal shelf like some kind of monster trying to fit through a crack. His massive hand and massive arm barely had to leave his body to reach the same bottle of protein you’d both been shooting for. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

All at once, the flood of posters assaulted your brain. The blaring announcements, the squealing girls, the headmaster, the volleyball buses with his face printed on the side, the magazines, the articles and—

You blinked, once, twice.

His lips parted.

You ripped your hand out from under his with a hefty amount of force. The action sent you flat on your back and you were sure he’d gotten a front row view of under your skirt but you really didn’t give a crap.

“Have it!” you barked out, awkwardly scrambling to your feet. You grabbed your basket and Ushijima blinked once at you, slowly, face monotonous. “You need it more anyway, jerk!”

You huffed, shoulders puffing up. Ushijima was silent on the other side of the aisle, wordlessly taking the bottle of protein with him as he stood.

You gaped.

HE’S A LIVING TREE.

Your neck actually craned a bit, straining to look up at him and he stared down at you from the top of the aisle.

His arm promptly stuck itself through the gap in the shelf, offering the drink to you.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, voice devoid of emotion. “You should take it.”

For some reason that irked you.

You forcefully—struggling with great difficulty—shoved the drink back to his side through the shelves. Ushijima blinked once, slow down at you and you bared your teeth at him before hoisting your basket up into your arm and storming to the check out where you flew through your wallet, aggressively paying the lady at the counter, nearly running into a smirking redhead at the doorway and rushing the rest of the way to your dorm where people kept asking why you looked so damn mad.

“Who was that?” Tendou chirped, sidling up to Ushijima. “A fan?”

Ushijima stared out the still swinging door and calmly examined the bottle of protein in his hand.

“No,” he said.

“...you gonna continue with the sentence or what?” Tendou prodded.

I hate this time of the year. You frowned, burrowing deeper into your muffler as you fought the early morning chill. Several other students were trudging beside you, sleep in their eyes as you all headed to the regular meeting for club time slots. You always showed up as early as possible to get the best dibs for your club. 

You absently kicked a pebble in your way, wondering how you should organize practice this week. You wanted to brush up on your form again and—

Why was everyone looking at you like that?

“Good morning.”

It took you a moment to realize a massive shadow had engulfed your own. You stared at your feet for a moment, rubbing your eyes before slowly turning.

Ushijima Wakatoshi bore down on you, face cast in dark shadows from the early morning darkness, puffs of steam clouding by his mouth where he breathed.

He looked like a monster.

You felt your hackles raise, nearly jumping out of your sneakers as you started to backpedal away from him, “Hah?”

“Good morning,” Ushijima said, looking completely unfazed by the crack of dawn and cold.

You continued to hurry backwards toward the gym while barking back at him as Ushijima took calm steps forward—since you were both headed the same way—every three of your steps one of his own.

To anyone else, it looked as though a bear were advancing on a chihuahua.

“G-Good morning to you too!” you snapped. “Bye!”

“What?” Ushijima asked.

“I said bye you—”

“We’re still headed the same way.”

“Stop following me then!”

 - - - - - - - - 

You smirked, hefting the pile of posters into your arms. This was it, this was going to work for sure. No way anyone could ignore the please join flyers if you were pinning them up all around the school, and the team had worked hard to make it stand out and eye catching, appealing to all genders and interests.

Your wrist was starting to bother you a bit, so you shifted the papers to the other arm. I got careless trying to get the bow turn again. I need to slow it down and ice it tonight.

Who says we’re last on the funding list? You grinned, grabbing your tape. They can’t ignore us with a bunch of members—

“Good afternoon.”

You screeched, dropping your stack of flyers onto your foot. They scattered the hallway.

Ushijima calmly turned his gaze downwards, staring at the colorfully illustrated flyers now flooding both your feet.

Join the kyudo club!

“You,” you snapped, urging your heart to calm and shoving your tape back into your pocket. You hurried, grabbing the flyers and restacking them as he stood, towering above you. “What the heck do you want? Do you get some kind of kick out of scaring people or—”

In one smooth, swift motion, Ushijima had crouched down beside you. You stared, gaping in disbelief as his large hands—he has such big hands, I’ve never seen anyone with hands that big, this guy is all muscle and—moved across the floor, gathering up the papers in one fell swoop. His bangs shifted slightly over the slight furrow of his brows. 

Ushijima looked at you, quiet, somber, unreadable as he carefully put your stack back together.

He looked weird in the school uniform. You were so used to seeing him in his volleyball one. He seemed like a different person. Oh, you’re the type that leaves the first button undone.

“I did not mean to scare you,” he said, slow, with that rumbling voice of his. It sent a timbre down your spine.

Ushijima remained silent, staring calmly at you, seemingly content with the silence.

“Y-Yeah, well,” you started. “My bad then.”

You quickly stood, lifting your stack. You stared down at Ushijima for once as he calmly looked up at you and promptly ran off without another word, unable to figure out the weird awkwardness that sat on your tongue whenever you dealt with him.

I mean, it’s not like I really… hate him right?

Why the hell am I running into him so much?

You just needed to shoot some arrows and you’d feel a lot better.

-----------

You shot too many arrows.

You frowned at your throbbing wrist, giving it a look of utter betrayal. The nurse had said to give her a few minutes for her to come back with some pain killers. You were only in the infirmary this time because the pain had gotten to a point where you’d actually dropped your bow in the middle of a draw.

Prelims are coming up. You glared harder at your wrist. You just needed to ice it and you’d feel better. I can’t let them down.

You were taking them straight to the top and then it’d be kyudo posters this school would see, not just stupid Ushijima’s face and—

“(L/n)-san.”

You screeched, nearly toppling off your stool. Your wrist smacked into the counter and you hissed in pain, tears pricking the corner of your eyes.

Ushijima stood in the doorway of the infirmary, staring at you with furrowed brows.

Why him, why now? You grunted in greeting, gingerly rubbing your throbbing wrist, turning away from him toward the window.

You heard the door close behind him, focusing all your attention on anything else to ignore the massive presence behind you.

“What happened?”

WHY IS HE TALKING TO ME. 

“Oh, this and that,” you said simply, vaguely, struggling to find better words. You… you really didn’t hate this guy personally or anything, but it was personal at the same time? You didn’t know how you felt about him and it was making you confused.

You hated being confused.

Ignoring any and all other social cues, Ushijima took a seat on the stool beside you, back and posture impeccable. His hands calmly set on his knees. His volleyball uniform like second skin against his form, revealing nothing but miles of muscle and hardwork.

You stared at him in disbelief.

Ushijima faced forward, face unreadable.

….okay. You awkwardly glanced to the side, rubbing at your wrist. Way to make it even more awkward. Does this guy not socialize much or what?

“Uh,” no! Don’t talk to him! Just keep your mouth shut! “What happened to you?” you said awkwardly.

Ushijima’s face relaxed an inch. You blinked in surprise.

“My knee,” he said. “Coach made me go get it checked out.”

“...me too,” you said. He looked at you. You looked away. “Not my knee, I mean. My wrist. My vice captain will have my head if I didn’t. I told her I could just ice it.”

“You should be more careful,” Ushijima said.

You looked at him. He looked at you.

“I’m sorry?”

“You do not need to apologize.”

You stared.

Ushijima motioned to your wrist, not taking his eyes off your face, “Your fans would be disappointed if you were unable to perform.”

“I-I’m sorry?”

“You do not need to apologize,” Ushijima said again, shaking his head. You gaped at him. “I would be disappointed. I wish to see your kaichu again.”

Your brain short-circuited. You were left to dumbly look at Ushijima. He seemed to take pity on you and turned fully on his stool, several heads taller, looking down at you before he calmly said—

“I am a fan of your archery.”

The two of you sat there in silence.

Steam shot out of your ears as your face exploded into red. Ushijima watched in silence as you toppled over your stool and back onto the ground.

- i also stan one giant tree

[fang-wolfsbane]

Transformers Generation One: A Seeker's Triangle: Chapter 03: Discovery

“Hey Zett, haul your ass up here and get this job done!”

“Yessir! Be right there!” Zett Oakwell called up to his superior, or at least that’s what the man seemed to believe himself to be. Waiting until the big, burly man moved out of sight, Zett kept his lips pressed into an all too friendly smile he had years to practice into perfection. The moment he lost sight of the man, so did his lips lose their form.

A sigh rattled through Zett’s ribs, his hand reaching up to rub his palm against his diaphragm, trying to quell his true thoughts on the man who barely paid him the minimum wage for working on the construction site their company had been asked to clear. It didn’t help that they were the only two on site either. Everyone else had claimed that they were all ‘too busy’ to help with the clearing. He hoped they all got some form of pain in their backsides as karma for leaving him as the boss’s sole lapdog.

Looking around the site, Zett took a moment in to get a good look at the small beach that had been used as a dump by the locals. He could feel his hand curling into a fist as his anger swelled up once more. There were plenty of trashcans around the city, yet people still chose to walk along this very beach and just let their refuge flitter to the ground without a second thought.

Zett wasn’t an eco-warrior, or any kind of activist, but it still pained him to see how little humans thought of the only inhabitable planet they had. Talks about travelling to distant planets to live on them instead had crossed over the radio a couple of times when he walked past the boss’s office, overhearing all the excited chatter about the possibilities. Sure, send humans to another planet so that they can destroy that one as well. Those had been his thoughts. No one had asked his opinion on the matter, so he never gave it, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t have an opinion either.

Personally, he felt like no one ever really bothered to talk to him unless they needed something. That’s the way it always was. At home, at school, and even at work, so he simply chose to keep his mouth shut and pick up whatever he passed, throwing away the trash the cause of the problem chose to ignore.

The sunlight bounced off the slow approaching waves, lapping ever so gently at the shore as if tentatively testing its safety. The sight of a small crab scuttling in the distance was at least something that brought a smile to his lips. It almost looked like the crab was trying to play a game of tag. Nature’s refuge workers his teacher had said during a field trip when he was in the seventh grade. Zett took his hardhat off in respect for the crustacean, the same sunlight bouncing off his neck-length black hair, before turning on his heel and heading towards the boss’s temporary base of operations for the hotel they were tasked to build. Another refuge for the litterbugs too lazy to walk a couple of steps to the nearest bin.

“You wanted to see me, boss?” Zett asked upon entering the office, his brown eyes scanning the room. There wasn’t really much to look at. A wooden desk painted blue in the corner with a heap of bills for equipment, a cold cup of coffee and a pen verging on the edge of toppling off the side. The chair that was supposed to be nearby stood off to the side, acting as something for his boss to lean against as he studied one of the blueprints plastered against the wall. A quick once over told Zett that it was for the seventh floor. He hadn’t bothered to ask how tall the hotel was going to be. He only cared about how much they would get paid by the end of it.

If the pay-out were as good as he was hoping, he’d have saved up enough to put in a deposit for his own place once he graduated from high school in a couple of months, possibly scraping by with his sloppy grades. As long as he passed and could move out, then he was happy. Everything else could wait.

“Yeah. You don’t mind working extra shifts, right?” his boss asked, not even having the decency to try and look at him as he asked. Coming from the man before him, Zett knew it wasn’t a request as much as an order. If he refused, it would simply be cut from his check, not that he’d receive any extra payment for saying yes in the first place. Zett made sure to hide his curling fist on the inside of his hat, flashing a crude gesture to the otherwise rude man.

“No sir,” Zett hummed, forcing his lips into that same, earlier, all too eager to please smile that he hated so much that he felt like he could hurl at the mere thought of doing it.

“Good. I need you to work overtime tonight. Get this area clear by tomorrow morning so that the boys can get started. We’re behind schedule as it is.”

‘We wouldn’t have fallen behind in the first place if ‘the boys’ had bothered to show up in the first place,’ Zett snapped back, mentally of course. No way in hell was he going to keep his employment if he dared point out the reason for their falling behind. At least this way, he wouldn’t have to worry about going home and getting chewed out by his poor biology class test results – if his school bag had been left undisturbed where he had taken to hiding it beneath his bed.

“Sure thing.”

“Good. Remember to lock up when you’re done.” And just like that, the boss dismissed him, already grabbing his own jacket as he hurried out the door towards his waiting car. Watching the rear lights of the old clunker turning the corner, Zett waited a couple of seconds before slamming the protective headwear into the sandy floor beneath himself as hard as he could, sliding his hands through his hair shortly after as he screamed his frustration to the distant sky, his seemingly only companion as of late. A million stars, none of which probably even knew his name, much less about his existence. It made him wonder if anyone – any thing – knew that he too, had a life. At this point, there was no chance in hell.

***

Hours of hauling trash from one end to another had Zett sweaty, moody, and frankly, tired. A church bell in the distance told him that it was three in the morning. By this time, the headlight he’d wrapped around his forehead had lost its life, and of course his boss hadn’t bothered to leave a spare behind, so Zett continued working in the dark, knowing fully well that in a couple of hours he’d be forced to work alongside the same men who left the grunt work to him. The only comfort he gave himself was that he’d probably earn a couple of muscles from all the heavy lifting. The small bulges in his arms acted as reassurance.

He had been warned, multiple times before, about paying attention to where he was walking when doing his work, so the moment his foot hit something hard, Zett only had enough time to yelp out his surprise before crashing face-first into something solid.

A crunch of bone informed him that he’d officially broken his nose, his salt-stained hands flying up to try and cover it before the bloodbath begun. He knew it was an overexaggerating on his part, but it still hurt. For the first time in eighteen years, he’d broken something that most guys his age hurt during physical fights. He nearly laughed at how lame his excuse would be if someone cared enough in the hallway to ask why his skin had turned purple and blue. If he were lucky, he could convince them that he’s gotten it the same way as most guys his age tended to break their bones. Maybe he’d even be lucky to impress Miss Perfect, Carly.

He didn’t quite know why she was the one he wanted to impress, chalking it up to his DNA telling him to be the typical kid falling for the most popular girl at school only to be ignored like a poster from the drama club requesting new members. He nearly felt giddy at the thought of finally, possibly one-upping that other guy that always hung out with her. Spike… something. He didn’t know much about him, except that he had some association with robotic aliens from some other planet. Maybe those aspiring astronauts had some point to their Earth-eviction plan.

The first couple of months after the robots – Autobots, if he remembered right – no one could stop talking about them, until everyone got used to their existence. Sometimes when walking past a car parked off on its own, even he attempted to strike up a conversation with it in the hopes that it would respond. It never did.

Groaning, Zett pushed himself out of the salty water, keeping his hand pressed to his nose, trying to ignore how sensitive it was. Looking down, Zett leaned in for a closer look to see what he had tripped over. It was definitely something big, painted black with green streaks and purple markings. He frowned, leaning in for a closer look. From what he could see, it looked like one of those giant Autobot robots. Although this one seemed to be, well, dead.

How long had it been laying here? From the gleam of the armouring or whatever it was that they called their… skin, it seemed the robot had been abandoned. Sliding his hand up the side, he felt a couple of bumps and dents. Whoever this robot was, they sure had seen better days. From what he could feel, it felt like a female version. That alone was enough to cause his cheeks to heat. The closest he’d ever gotten to the females of his own species was talking to one of them with an occasional glance at their cleavage or other… assets when passing them by. Who knew that his first time touching any kind of female would be a robot? Not that he would tell anyone about that.

“What happened to you girl?” Zett asked, as if expecting a response. The head seemed to hold some kind of helmet that flowed into cables that he supposed was their version of hair. A visor like the ones that firefighters wore on their helmets covered where he figured her eyes were. Did Autobots also have eye problems? A pair of wings jutted out on either side, making him think that she had probably transformed into a plane or something similar. Judging from her slim figure, probably a jet. From what he could see, there wasn’t any rust, luckily.

The best course of action was to probably to talk to Spike at school and tell him about his discovery. Even better, he could go to Carly’s house and tell her personally. The grin that had appeared on his face at the thought fell. Not only was it way too early in the morning to drop by for a ‘casual visit’, he didn’t even know where she lived in the first place. He sighed once more, turning himself around as he sat down on her leg, running his free hand through his hair.

“Just can’t get a break, can you, Zett?” he asked himself, staring at his reflection in the water that wasn’t even visible. He frowned, kicking the back of his heel against the leg. So much for finding a giant robot that he couldn’t even use to impress the girl he liked.

A soft whirring sound buzzed through his ears, causing him to sit up. The robot wasn’t radioactive, was it? His head slowly turned towards the robot’s face, her visor lighting up into a soft red glow as a pair of even redder eyes locked onto him in what he instinctively knew was a warning.

“Oh boy.”

[98prilla]

Seeking Oblivion

Next

Previous

AO3

...

It was midday when Janus came thundering up the stairs, startling Virgil, who was on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, trying to get rid of the final vestiges of jitters from the unbelievable, endless, panic attack from the day before.

 “Jesus, Jan. Warn a side.” That was enough to freeze him in place, the casualness with which Virgil addressed him, using not only his name but his old nickname.

 “you… are we… what?” He stammered, not sure if he’d just wandered into the twilight zone or some alternate reality.

 “look. You… helped me out, yesterday, and I appreciated you checking in, knowing how anxious I must be. Especially… especially since nobody else did.” Virgil’s lips twisted in a small, bitter smile, as he looked away, pulling on his hoodie strings.

 “Virgil-“

 “It’s fine. Everyone… everyone else was busy with their own meltdowns, and it sounded like I wouldn’t have wanted to be there, anyway. Giant frog monster Pat? Yeah, no thanks.” Virgil shuddered, a small smile flashing across Janus’s face.

 “so. Thanks. I guess. Both for helping me, and… and protecting Thomas. You’re really… helpful, when you’re not being an arrogant ass.” Virgil mumbled, and Janus let out a small laugh, softening, accepting Virgil’s olive branch for what it was.

 “We didn’t leave things on the best of terms, so, I get it if we’re not cool. But, um, can we try? To… work together?” Virgil’s voice was a squeak, and Janus smiled, just a bit.

 “Yes. I would like that. You can start with this.” He said, sitting on the couch next to Virgil, seriousness coming back as he remembered why he came up here in the first place, passing the note to Virgil.

“What… is this from Princey?” Virgil mumbled, reading it slowly, eyes widening as he came to the end.

 “What does he mean? Janus, what does he mean ‘I’m sorry and tell Remus I know he’ll be more than I ever was?’ What…” His hands were gripping the paper hard, face paling.

 “It was left on my desk. Roman… he apologizes, for making fun of my name, for calling me the villain and his general attitude towards me, for siding against me with Patton, telling me I was right about all the self care I was preaching, that he hopes everyone takes my advice and takes some time. And he hopes,” his voice cracks for a second, his worry clogging his throat, “he hopes he gets to see everyone once again. I was hoping any of you had seen him since yesterday’s events, I’m… worried.” Virgil shook his head.

 “No, no, we haven’t, we thought… I thought, he was just in his room, cooling down, or upset, or off in the imagination, beating shit up. But that… that doesn’t sound like him. Not ok him. Patton! Lo!”

 Logan rose up first, adjusting his glasses, Patton following shortly after, though he looked slightly more disheveled than Logan, smiling weakly at Janus.

 “Has anyone seen Roman?” Virgil asked, Logan shaking his head, Patton frowning.

 “No, I thought we should give the kiddo some space.” Virgil muttered a curse under his breath, looking to Janus for permission, before passing the note to Logan. He read it with a furrowed brow, Patton peeking over his shoulder, hand flying to cover his mouth as he got to the end.

 “We should check on him. Immediately. I… the tone of this letter is extremely concerning.” Logan, voice shaking just a tad. Without further encouragement, Patton nodded, taking off down the hallway towards Roman’s room, the others not far behind.

 “Roman? Kiddo, you in there?” Patton called, knocking on the door, frowning as he heard nothing in response. “I know you might not wanna talk right now, but can you just let me know you’re ok in there?” He tried again, met once more with only silence. He took a deep breath before trying the handle, a bit relieved to find the room unlocked.

 “Roman?” Logan called hesitantly, stepping past Patton and into the room, eyes widening at the state of it.

 It should have been messy. There should have been playbills from every show they'd been in or attended framed on the walls, a myriad of posters interspersed amongst them. Light should have been shining down from the large, stained glass ceiling, notebooks and loose papers filled with sketches and ideas should have been scattered about every inch of the floor. It should be a chaotic, colorful, clashing, mess.

 Instead…

 Instead it was clean, tidy… empty. Nothing on the pale cream walls, the posters gone, presumably packed into the neat pile of boxes stacked against one wall, each one labeled. Posters, notebooks, clothes, art supplies, all packed away, as if Roman was moving.

 “what the…” Patton passed Logan, pulling the white sheet off the standing mirror, Roman's portal to the imagination, blanching instantly.

 Usually, the portal showed the other side, green fields or a distant castle, magical forests, whatever Roman had conjured. Now it reflected nothing but a light, swirling mist. Carefully, he reached out, gasping as he laid a palm flat against the glass, instead of simply passing through it. His portal was… broken?

 Virgil inhaled sharply, face paling suddenly, and Janus had to wrap an arm around his shoulders to keep him steady as he stumbled.

 “Vee?” he asked.

 “It’s cracked. H-his mirror. It’s breaking. Roman's… roman's fading.”

 “No. No he can’t… he hasn’t ducked out! We would know, if he’d ducked out.” Patton answered, unable to take his eyes off the glass, seeing now the small, hairline breaks in the surface, tracing them lightly with his finger.

 “That's not the only thing that could lead to him fading. If he isn’t here, he must be in the imagination.” Janus replied.

 “And given that his portal is no longer working, that leaves us with one option. Remus!” Logan called, not flinching as he instantly popped into existence, so close to his face their noses were touching.

 “Lolo! I’m surprised you called. Finally letting loose? Time for some roleplay? I've always wanted to be the school girl. I’ve been bad professor, surely there's some way I could earn extra credit?” Remus asked in a high falsetto that was also somehow husky. Patton winced, and Logan heard Virgil's faint ‘gross', but he didn’t back away or back down.

 “Fortunately, no. We need passage through the imagination. You are the side to call, are you not?” He asked evenly, Remus backing away with a scowl. He never could get a rise out of Logan.

 “Of course. But you don’t need me for that. You’ve got goody two shoes disney prince. You don’t need me." Remus pouted sourly, pacing away, hands fidgeting wildly.

 “Remus. Look around. Where do you think we are right now?” Logan asked. Remus spun around, glaring at the plain walls, plain floors, plain ceiling, a few hours and some blood, he could make a masterpiece!

 Then his gaze drifted, and he shoved past Logan, barely noticing Patton letting out a squeak and just barely avoiding getting barreled through as his eyes flitted over the mirror.

 He let out a low growl, pressing his palm to the surface, demanding to see, demanding to be let in, demanding it show him.

 Gray. Nothing. Silence.

 He stumbled back, clutching at his chest, eyes wide as he stared at the glass, the cracks ever so slightly longer.

 “oh no no no no. That’s not right. That’s not right at all.”

 “Remus? What is it?” Patton, hesitant.

 “Nothing. It… there was nothing.” Remus gathered himself, spinning on his heel, passing Virgil and Janus as he stalked out the door. “Well? Are you coming or not?” The group glanced at each other, before following Remus back down the stairs.

 He was muttering and mumbling to himself the whole time as he walked, hand clenching and unclenching as he stalked to his own room, shoving open the door, not caring if the others had followed or not as he strode through his mirror, aiming for the border of the kingdom closest to Roman's.

 “are… are we sure about this?” Patton squeaked outside of Remus's room, more than a little intimidated by whatever would be inside his imagination.

 “Yes. If we wish to stop whatever is happening from developing further, we need to follow." Logan replied, not hesitating as he, too, vanished through the mirror.

 “It’ll be ok, Pat. He's… wild, but he’d never do any lasting damage to one of us.” Virgil reassured lowly, taking a breath before stepping through himself.

 “Patton?” Janus slipped his hand into Patton's, summoning all his sincerity as he met the moral side's eyes.

 “you can do this." Patton took a shaky breath, shooting Janus a small, lopsided smile.

 “Ok. Let's go.” Patton whispered, squeezing his hand once before squaring his shoulders and walking through the glass, hand in hand with Janus.

…

 Remus stopped in his tracks as soon as he looked up after crossing the mirror, frozen to the spot.

 This… this was wrong. This was wrong.

 It had let him out on a crag, overlooking Roman's side. Usually it was magical forests and herds of unicorns far as the eye could see, Roman's colorful story book castle rising up in the distance. Maybe a few sparkling gem colored dragons circling the air. The sun gently shining, fluffy white clouds, the perfect image of the perfect day.

 Now, all of that was gone.

 It was eerily quiet, the kind of quiet that meant all life had fled, the kind of quiet that stilled the air, the entire world holding its breath.

 A light, gray mist covered the entire plain, though it didn’t smell like rain, like wet earth, like mist should. It was just… there, slowly covering everything. Huge, twisting vines covered in sharp thorns grew from the ground like trees, twisting over and across each other in arches and knots.

 And there, far in the distance, a gray spire of stone, the only thing breaking the monotony of the endless vines, a tower.

 That’s where Roman was. He could feel it. But he couldn’t feel anything else. Him and Roman were linked, to an almost telepathic level at times, and at some level he always knew vaguely what Roman was feeling, the more he concentrated, the more precise he became.

 He was using all his focus now, trying to pull at that link, trying to pull anything from Roman, only to be met again and again by that terrifying blankness of nothing.

 He was barely aware that the other sides had joined him in staring out into the distance, he felt ten degrees removed from his body as he realized what, exactly, was happening. The mist wasn’t just covering everything, it wasn’t a conscious aesthetic choice on Roman’s part, and neither were the vines. They were taking over. They were all that was left, they were slowly but surely destroying Roman’s imagination. And he was in the middle of it.  

 He heard sharp inhales and shocked gasps, dimly realizing he must have spoken aloud, cotton still filling his ears as he refused to take his eyes off the tower.

 Roman.

 He hated Roman.

 He loved Roman.

 He couldn’t live without Roman.

 “Remus.” Suddenly Janus was before him, close, and he snapped his attention to him, despair filling him as he met those gold and brown eyes. “Breathe. We will get him back.”

 “promise?” He whispered, feeling tears pricking his eyes, and god, if Roman did come back from this, he was going to murder him all over again.

 “promise. We need you to show us the way.” He shook his head.

 “I don’t know. I can still conjure over there, sure, but I can’t change the landscape, I can’t get us any closer than this! We’d have to walk it and that would take days, and by that time, the mist will have swallowed up everything, and there’ll be nothing left, including us, and then Thomas will be no better than a potato!” He yelled, arms flailing above his head as he ranted, pacing restlessly, everything in him screaming to move.

 “We have longer than you are estimating, Remus. Roman has been a central part of Thomas for nigh on three decades. It is therefore unlikely that he would fade quite so quickly, especially since he has not ducked out. He is in the imagination, where he is arguably strongest. And… he is not trying to fade, based on his letter. We have time, as much as it feels otherwise. We have time to fix this.” Logan interjected, his science tempered with his nervous tone, though his eyes, too, were fixed on the horizon.

 “We won’t fix anything just standing around here all day. Are we going, or not?” Virgil asked, glaring out at the vines, a glare nearly strong enough to make them wilt on his face, as he turned to Remus.

 “You can at least make stairs to get us down there, right?” Remus nodded, a snap of his fingers and a winding stairway was cut into the stone. Virgil gave a sharp nod in thanks, starting down the pathway, down towards the mist, down towards Roman.

 Logan gave his shoulder a squeeze as he passed, a small sign of reassurance and solidarity. Janus softly bumped his shoulder as he made his way to the stairs. And Patton… Patton slipped his hand into his, nearly making him jump at the sign of affection, from Patton, of all people.

 “come on, kiddo. Let’s go.”

[riotfuckery]

Shattered hearts and clean shirts

Pining!Sero Hanta x f!reader (slight Cheater!Bakugo Katsuki x reader)

A/N: Hello beautiful readers! It’s your friendly neighborhood big tiddy goth gf and lowkey weeb 💖I’m here with an extra long angst/comfort fic featuring best boy Sero! Best boy doesn’t get the love he deserves sometimes so I’m here to change that! Also shoutout to my writing senpais who were so incredibly kind and sweet to me as to show my Shinso fic love. I’m sending lots of love your way! I also hope you don’t mind me tagging you 💖💖💖 @queensynderella @kingtamakimurder @ikinabi @trafalgar-temptress Extra A/N: Another writing senpai gave me permission to tag them so here they are @quirkless-fics @thedreadthread Thank you again senpais 💖🥺💖

Sero always considered himself a plain looking guy. He thought he was nothing special with a plain quirk and weird elbows. You always made him feel special, beautiful and loved. You tended to do that with everyone you met apparently cause you scored yourself a relationship with the angriest and most volatile student of UA along with a school wide reputation of being the kind cutie who you could get patched up by without any embarrassment. You were gentle, kind, and patient with a strong quirk to go with it.

You were blessed with a quirk that made any living thing grow or heal at the expense of your own energy. Gently touching a broken arm would heal it within a few seconds, whispering sweet words to a dying flower made it spring to life and bloom brighter than ever. The plants you spring to life heeding your commands, forming walls and giant thorns seemingly out of nowhere. Your undying need to want to heal and make things better earned you a spot in class 1-A.

Apparently he wasn’t the only one who thought that, noticing his ash blonde friend take a liking to you because he was too prideful to go to recovery girl at times. You made your way to the bakusquad. Befriending the energetic redhead and blonde first. Eventually you made your way around the whole crew.

Mina was overjoyed to have another girl in the squad. Always having sleepovers and girls nights, wasting away the hours filling your faces with junk food and talk of boys. So when she learned you had a small thing for the ash blonde she immediately went to work. Soon enough he saw you chatting with the blonde and saw that something was happening much to his own dismay.

His heart would squeeze in his chest, making it almost impossible to breathe when he saw how Bakugo was treating you. He always called you “bandaid” and “shitty girl”. You always brushed it off with a smile and always helped him along with every student in the school. When he heard Bakugo loudly announce to the class that both of you were dating along with the threats to kill whoever came too close, he thought his heart would fall to the pit of his stomach.

He was pining after you almost painfully, he saw how Bakugo should shake off your hugs and call you clingy when you tried to hold his hand. His heart ached at the thought that you would be okay being treated like that. You were always brushing it off as the excuse that he was shy and saying he would open up soon enough but he was always observant. He saw the way couples would hold hands and give small kisses in public, he noticed the hurt in your eyes at the thought of never having that feeling. He saw the flashes of sadness in your eyes and the small sighs when you were particularly upset one day.

Sero did what any good friend would do and talked you about it, knowing keeping feelings bottled up would only leave them to explode. He pushed aside his feelings and gave a chance to let out your feelings without being judged. He caught you after class one day, saying he needed to talk to you about an assignment. Bakugo was nowhere in sight and that made him sigh in disappointment. How could he just leave such a beautiful girl by herself and call her horrible nicknames? He couldn’t fathom it.

“Hey Sero, what’s up? You need help with anything?” You smiled brightly at him, he thought he would be blinded by it. He stopped himself before he could get too lost in his one sided love for you (ouch). He grinned back immediately “Actually, I’m fine for right now. Maybe I could use your help later with some home work. But I just wanted to ask are you okay? Ya know like emotionally? I promise I won’t tell anyone. You just seem to be upset a lot more and I was wondering if I could help you with that” he spoke nervously. You on the other hand were caught off guard. Your eyes widened a bit and your lips parted for a split second before you smiled shyly at him.

“Oh geez am I that obvious?” You looked him shyly, your hand covering the side of your neck. He thought it was cute you picked that habit up from Kirishima while also wondering what other habits you picked up from the rest of the squad. “Well yeah I’ve been upset, I’m just really sad and frustrated right now. But let’s go somewhere more private yeah?” You moved your hand to wave at him to follow you. You both headed straight for your dorm and gently ushered him in. You locked the door before taking off your shoes and tie.

He took off his shoes and left them next to yours and gently put his bag down by the entrance. He saw you make your way over to your bed and plop down on it. A small blush made its way to his face as he was hit with a tsunami of nervousness. He was here, in your ROOM, ALONE, WITH THE DOOR LOCKED. If he muscles got anymore stiff, he thought he would pass out.

Your light giggle made him relax and look over at you. You were still sitting on your bed and looked up at him with amusement, you smiled at him cheekily. “No need to be nervous Sero, I just wanted to talk to you. Nothing more, I don’t bite unless ya ask ya know?” He blushed and did the kiri embarrassed move. “No I know” he chuckled and moved to sit backwards on your desk chair across from the bed. He gave you a friendly smile and small nod as if pushing you to continue.

You took a deep breath and flopped down on the bed while staring at the ceiling poster you have of your fav band. “Well I’m just really frustrated and sad, it’s all about dating Katsuki. Like yes he’s nice to me in his own way but how hard is it to hold hands in public? Show me he’s interested? It feels like all I’m doing is annoying him” you sighed and propped yourself up to look at him. His black eyes never leaving yours and giving you another minuscule nod to tell you to continue.

“People ask questions you know, and it just makes me sad because I keep making excuses for him. Like how many times do I have to come up with some random line? Why do I feel like I’m always giving and I’m never getting anything back? Am I asking for too much Sero?” You ranted in frustration, looking at him for answers. He blinked slowly and inhaled slowly before exhaling and loosening his tie.

“I don’t personally think you’re asking too much, I agree with you actually. Like how hard is it hold hands? Yeah maybe he’s too pussy to buck up and show the world he’s dating you. But not even in private he’s sweet to you?” He asked. You shook your head slightly. “Well I guess he’s nicer and calls me babe. But still doesn’t hold my hand or anything. He gets angry at me when I talk to any other guy outside of him.” You sighed again, he noticed you seemed to do that a lot today.

You and Bakugo were still new, only a few months in. You wouldn’t say it was love but you liked him quite a bit. Your patience with the explosive blonde was never ending it seemed. Until one day you were avoiding Bakugo and the rest of the squad like the plague. He found you sitting underneath the trees in the courtyard, just looking up at the trees during lunch. Your slumped shoulders and dull puffy eyes and tears threatening to leak out immediately putting him in a state of alarm but decided to leave you for the time being. You’ve grown quite close to the ravenette, now you considered each other close friends. He hoped for more from you but he never got his hopes too high, just keeping it to daydreaming in class and free periods.

He noticed you were off today. During training with the class, you were being harsher than usual. Sending small spikes into your unlucky training partner and much larger precisely aimed thorns into their clothes to pin them to the ground. Whispering into the air and summoning bright green vines to shield you if someone ever got close enough to you. If they bursted through your vine wall, you came at them with thorns the size of large hunting knives and slashed them up almost ruthlessly. You didn’t talk much and your eyes held regret everytime you healed small pinpricks and cuts on your opponent after your sparring. Just muttering a small sorry and you were off to your next sparring partner.

Once the end of the school day arrived he immediately looked for you, the rest of the squad going off and finding Bakugo to question what he did to make you this upset. He found you in the same spot you were at during lunch and quickly sat down next to you, putting an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to him, placing your head on his chest and your legs on his lap while resting his chin on top of your head. He could feel the shaking in your entire body before he heard the muffled sobs in chest. He ran one hand on your lower back and the other rubbing comforting circles with his thumb on your calf.

He didn’t say anything and he didn’t need to yet. He just pulled you closer and held you tighter while your muffled sobs continued to soak his shirt. He didn’t care that you ugly sobbed all over him, the only thing he cared about was making you feel better. Your sobs turned to hiccups and that turned to semi even breathing.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him but he sure as hell looked at you. He couldn’t help but think you look adorable, wiping your red eyes and pink nose with your sleeve. You thought and felt like you looked disgusting so you still refused to look at him. He sighed in defeat, not wanting you push you any further cause the last thing he wanted was to make you cry again.

He rested his chin on your head once again, never removing his hold. You found comfort in it as a bit awkward as it was. His heart was beating steadily and a bit faster due to worry. He was hoping you didn’t notice. All he wanted was for you to be happy and feel loved, even if it wasn’t with him. In his perfect fantasy world, you two would have dated from the start. But this world isn’t perfect.

“H-he was cheating on me, the entire time. I caught him in the act with another girl. And when I asked him how long, he looked at me like I was dumb and said ‘the entire time, you thought you meant something to me huh? You were just a prize to be won, another achievement over stupid Deku’ and I left. Is there something wrong with me? Is that why he cheated? I did all that I could to make him happy but my best just wasn’t enough” you cried. Sero’s eyes widened and his body tensed, you could almost see the words slap him in the face. He knew Bakugo wasn’t the gonna win any awards for ‘person of the year’ but he didn’t know the ash blonde could be this cruel.

He held you close and moved his hand to softly pet your hair, trying all his might to soothe you without revealing his true intentions for you. He was still hopelessly in love with you so seeing you sobbing almost made him confess. Although he wasn’t the most book smart, he knew how to read people and socialize like a pro. He held the almost painful flowering of the love he had for you.

“Oh sunflower, I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry. I had no idea that this was even happening. The rest of the squad went to go after him after I went to find you. They must be beating the shit out of him right now and he definitely deserves every hit he takes.” He spoke softly to you, almost afraid of you bursting into tears again. Almost on cue, your sobbing continued but harder this time. All the times you had hope for the blonde and for the patience you had for him wasted, reality harshly scattering your romantic dreams to the wind like ash. You cried for the you a few weeks ago when you were so stupid and blind.

He just kept holding you, reassuring you that you were a good person who tried your best and that Bakugo was in the wrong here. Your sobs turned to sniffles soon enough and he decided that he needed to take care of you. He gently moved you off his lap and stood up, holding a hand out to you. The beating of his heart against his rib cage felt painful. He hurt because it hurt him seeing you so sad and his heart ached at the thought that you thought you were never good enough for anyone.

He put on a small comforting smile as he spoke. “Hey sunflower, lets go somewhere more comfortable okay? How does my room in the dorms sound? We could watch movies and you can let out everything judgment free.” He gave you the cute nickname one day when you sprouted the flower and handed it to him after he a particularly rough day. You presented it to him with a smile that rivals the sun and ironically told him that his own smile lit up a room better than said flower. His heart leapt in joy and soar at the memory but he hoped he would never have to use it in such a terrible situation.

You took his hand and he helped you to stand up. A small wavering smile on your soft lips while you held his hand tightly. “That sounds good Sero, I’m so sorry about ruining your shirt. I’ll wash it and return to you tomorrow after you change.” Your voice was heavy with sadness. He was walking the both of you with your fingers intertwined to the UA dorms while you spoke. The distant sounds of shouting from the bakusqaud and explosions filled the air and your wavering smile steadied for a bit after thinking about how hard everyone was chewing him out, especially your ‘sister from another mister’ Mina.

You both arrived at his room, immediately taking off your shoes and making yourself comfy in his hammock while he went to the bathroom to change his clothes. You didn’t even think about leaving or changing until Sero spoke. “I left extra clean clothes in the bathroom incase you wanna change out of your uniform. I know how hard today has been on you so feel free to go in and change if you want to. You also don’t have to worry about cleaning my clothes by the way, I’m doing laundry tomorrow.” His normal friendly tone sending a small spark comfort to your broken heart.

You nodded and said a small thanks as you went to the bathroom and changed into the pair of grey sweatpants and random band tee he set out for you. As you slipped them on, the smell of laundry detergent mixed with his natural scent of earth after a heavy rain shot a nice warmth through your entire body. His clothes were big and so incredibly comfortable that you couldn’t help the small smile that made its way to your face.

You exited the bathroom with a small smile and Sero immediately noticed how cute you were dressed in his clothes. He fought the heat that tried to make its way to his cheeks and ears with the clearing of his throat. He made his way to the beanbag next to his hammock that was facing the tv. He looked at you once again with his signature grin. “So what do you wanna watch?”

You didn’t get a chance to answer his question when the rest of bakusquad burst into his dorm, all scuffed up and dirty. Kiri and Mina immediately crying and tackling you in a bone crushing hug, apologizing and saying you didn’t deserve it. You smiled and squeezed them back and let them cry on your shoulders, you laughed internally when they seemed more upset than you were at moment. They were such good people. Kaminari was in idiot mode so Sero took care of him.

You and the squad spent the rest of night having a sleepover and watching movies, their cheery and energetic attitudes distracted you and you found yourself feeling better. Mina and you had everyone do face masks at one point. The love they all had for you was almost touchable. The warmth in your heart spread throughout your entire being, you forgot about Bakugo for that night.

Sero decided to confess at a later date, once your heart healed along with the help of him and his friends. A loving smile suddenly plastered on his face during a movie roast session going on between you, Kami, and Mina. Kiri patted him on the shoulder and gave him a thumbs up and a bright sharp toothed smile. He smiled back at his red headed friend and gave a small shake of his head.

He was happy for now. Just knowing you were on your way to mending your own heart, and not being alone while doing that. If he was the one to tape together the final pieces, he would be more than happy to do so.

[taiblogcomics]

‘Til Everypony is One

Hey there, sharks who can't do math. It's the last of our stacked MLP comics this week. Golly, it's been a refresher to get back to these, hasn't it? And don't worry, we don't have to dip back into the New 52 too soon, either. But that won't be this week. We still got good stuff this week~

Here's a good cover:

Golly, this cover's kind of busy if you ask me. We gotta bring all the stories togethe for the finale, you see. Also who ever that is down there! Prowl, I think? I think that's Prowl. He hasn't been in any of these stories, but he somehow ranks cover status. Anyways, though, it's a very cinematic cover. Would make a great movie poster, and it definitely catches the eye. Blow that up to three feet high, I'd hang that in my room~

Before we get to the finale, though, we got one more main character to have a side-story with! And we don't waste any time, with Applejack immediately finding her farm infested with the Insecticons. Like, they're not just eating the apples, they're eating the trees. I'm not super familiar with the Insecticons, but they're kind of adorable here. Applejack has no success in deterring a horde of giant insect robots, even with the aid of the water hose. Faced with these concerns, she performs a tactical retreat into her farmhouse.

Inside the farmhouse, she encounters Discord. I guess he's done hanging out with Fluttershy for the day, and is now just loitering around Sweet Apple Acres. He denies any involvement in the insect swarm, declaring it too pedestrian. Instead, he offers some help to even out the sides. Not himself, of course, but he does summon the whole Apple family out of thin air to romp and stomp the buggos in the orchard. Even Babs Seed is here. With the increased numbers, the Apples collectively drive off the Insecticons, and then all collapse from exhaustion. Discord is thoroughly entertained~

And now, the main event. This is it: our finale. The Student Six have come as an envoy to the Crystal Empire, to report on the Decepticons' doings to Princess Cadance. They're not too informed, though, because the greatest Decepticon of them all has come knocking: Dramatic Irony. Megatron and his forces, along with Chrysalis and her swarm, come smashing through the wall, demanding all the castle's magical items. By draining Equestria of its magic and infusing their Energon with it, the war will swing in their favour. And with Equestria powerless, Chrysalis will take over and rule this world.

Fortunately, they're not the only ones here. The Autobots and Twilight's friends have all assembled here, now forged strong with the friendships made in their miniseries. And so a truly awesome two-page spread of both forces engaging in combat is laid before us. This is what crossovers are truly about. Megatron keeps his forces on target, though, ordering Shockwave to focus on converting their magic. But when Shockwave makes his move to enter the castle, he's confronted with Bumblebee and several backup forces, including the Student Six, Trixie, Tempest Shadow, Starlight, and the Cutie Mark Crusaders. And Shockwave is quickly ejected from the building~

Optimus Prime demands Megatron's surrender, and Twilight backs him up. While ponies may prefer compassion and show forgiveness to those they defeat, they will fight to the bitter end when they have to. And this is only a small scale of their forces. Heck, Luna and Celestia aren't even here yet. They will keep fighting no matter what. Megatron accuses Chrysalis of misrepresenting his chances. Chrysalis retorts that if they win quickly, then there's nothing to worry about. And furthermore, Twilight may be powerful, but she can't use changeling magic, and Chrysalis will never re-create the bridge between their worlds.

That dramatic timing comes calling again, and a space bridge opens up over the Crystal Empire. It's Grimlock and Spike, who have fixed a portal to help them out. Spike is even decked out in Daniel's exosuit to give him an extra edge. Chrysalis calls for her forces to retreat, abandoning the Decepticons before they can be dragged off to Cybertron. Megatron is furious at the betrayal, but naturally his underestimation of the magics he wishes to possess do him in. And Optimus opens his chestplate where the Matrix is usually stored, and Twilight steps out, using her magic to send all the Decepticons back through the space bridge.

With Equestria safe once again, the Autobots also depart, after some heartfelt words and a delightful party. Once back on the other side of the space bridge, Optimus confirms that all of them have returned, and then he blows up the bridge linking their worlds. Gauge is pretty sad to lose contact with such nice beings, but Optimus reassures her that friendships stay with you even when friends are apart. And the comic ends, not on that uplifting note, but on Shockwave reporting to Megatron that he failed to collect any of their magic. But... perhaps he can find a way to bring their magic to them, ending on a hologram of Twilight's crystal castle...

Ah, what a good crossover. Let’s start with the Applejack story, which might be the weakest of all the team-ups. Because there is no team-up. She just fights off the Insecticons. It’s kind of the odd one out, since it’s the only one that doesn’t involve a pony and a Transformer becoming friends, so it’s a little weaker in the message than any of the others. The delightful way the Insecticons talk is a plus, though~

The main story is a delight, of course. The whole setup is basically like a brother and sister playing with their toys together, a scenario I’m fondly familiar with. And of course Megatron underestimates them and Chrysalis abandons her allies as soon as things start going south. Everything plays out perfectly, including the intriguing little sequel-baiting at the end there. I’d be down for more of this~

As for us next week, well, we may be out of pony comics for now. But do you recall another series we used to cover~? One starring a Mr Jason Todd...~?

[1000scrubs]

Round 1: Corporeal Dread

Writer Corporeal Dread’s entry for the initial prompts from 2 years ago

Nyfah scowled at the blinking light on her instrument cluster. She knew her calculations had been correct, but something was wrong. Her fuel was running out much faster than predicted, something had to be done to fix it, and it had to be done now. Sighing heavily she stood and made her way to the storage bay and began dragging her remaining provisions and weapons onto the bridge. 

After shoving as many crates as possible into the much smaller room she sealed the doors between the two areas, then, cursing quietly to herself, punched a button on the wall. She flinched as a loud siren began sounding, and the ship began to tremble violently. As the storage bay sheared away from the ship the screeching of metal grinding against metal melded into the cacophony of the blaring siren. Ears ringing, she desperately tried to shut it off. Pressing button after button, and typing commands into the ship’s interface yielded no results, until finally she ripped open a panel in the wall and sliced the cable providing power to the siren. 

Tensely Nyfah returned to her captain’s chair, as she sat, she turned her full attention to the radar and infrared sensor. It showed nothing but a dull blinking light of the storage bay falling away as the ship sped on. She watched as the light slowly disappeared, the abandoned piece of hull no longer in range. She waited another hour, monitoring the fuel gauge to determine if the reduced weight had worked. It seemed she was safe for now, and without the storage bay she would make it to Portunus.

——-

“LHY-825 requesting clearance to dock”. Nyfah’s voice sounded cracked and hoarse after hours of silence. 

The responding voice was cold and bureaucratic,“Noted LHY-825, please wait for confirmation.” 

Portunus was a small planet in one of the spiral “arms” of its galaxy located in the Virgo Supercluster, it was mainly used as a tourist destination and metropolitan hub. The entire outer surface had been converted into docking bays and landing ports, but beneath that, there was an entire multi-level subterranean city that held markets run by all sorts, from every corner of the known universe.The planet was usually visited by billions daily; however that number had dipped recently due to rumours of attacks and violence emerging from the lower levels of the planet. As a result there had been an increase in galactic enforcers and their patrol routes both on and around the planet, to ensure safety for the vendors and tourists. Nyfah knew she would have to be discreet so as to not get caught.

“LHY-825 you are cleared for landing, please proceed to bay 2593.” 

“LHY-825, proceeding to bay 2593.” She put down her transmitter and coasted the ship to her assigned landing bay. As the traction beam began pulling the ship in, she shut off its engines. 

Once her ship had come to a stop she changed into a delivery service uniform. She stretched as she disembarked stiff from sitting for so long then assessed the damage to the ship’s exterior. She breathed a sigh of relief, counting herself lucky that there was only minor external damage where the storage bay had been removed, and that she wouldn’t need to repair it right away. 

Nyfah inspected the fuel tank for external damage, and was annoyed to find an intermittent stream of liquid dripping out of a small bullet hole. She thought she had managed to bypass the galactic enforcer’s checkpoint without incurring damage by doing it in hyperspace, but it would appear otherwise. Knowing it would draw suspicion she glanced around casually, stepped in front of it, jabbed her knife into the hole and wiggled it back and forth.

Once the damage had been sufficiently disguised Nyfah ordered a quick-patch and a fuel refill, then picked up a small crate she had brought from the ship and stepped onto an elevator to the markets. 

——-

After a few moments in the dim elevator, playing quiet relaxing music, the doors slid open and a disorienting wave of noise, colour, and bright lights washed over Nyfah. In every direction neon signs flashed obnoxiously, many of the shop exteriors were overly adorned, trying to attract the highest number of customers possible. 

In all directions vendors shouted; advertising their wares, each trying to outsell the other. In addition to the ambient noise of the tourists shouting to each other to be heard over the vendors, Nyfah could barely hear herself think.

Groups in bizarre outfits bustled around the large open area excitedly motioning to each other. Most of them wore rich, vibrant, expensive fabrics and extravagant jewelry, likely rich tourists ready to spend their wealth. They contrasted harshly with who Nyfah figured were the planet’s inhabitants, visiting from the lower levels. The inhabitants were sparse compared to the densely packed tourists, and wore cheap plain materials in earthy tones.

The Portunians worked mainly to ensure the higher levels were functioning at their best for the tourists, and it was very rare for them to own any of the shops. The people were paid little and taxed by the number of inhabitants per level, causing them to live in perpetual poverty. 

Most of the shop owners had come to Portunus already very wealthy as the shops were also heavily taxed by the planetary government,in addition to the exorbitant annual lease fees. 

It was unlike any environment she had ever experienced before. She hated it, but she knew she was practically invisible here, she sighed feeling conflicted.

The areas around the elevators were large and cavernous. The walls looked like rough stone and dirt at first, but they were coated in a semi-shiny substance, most likely to strengthen them. The coating didn’t help with the awful lights. Tunnels lead off in other directions creating a honeycomb like shape, they were tall and wide and they all led to areas similar to the one side was in, making the markets very hard to navigate. 

Nyfah stepped out of the lift and shook off her stupor. She pulled up directions on her augmented retinal display (ARD) and began making her way through the crowds and kiosks.

Finally she found the shop she was looking for, it had a larger storefront than most of the other permanent shops and had a giant pink neon sign presenting its name, through the window she saw an array of garments, and all manner of showcases with figurines and other decorative artifacts. She stepped under the awning and made her way to the back of the store to the service counter.

She placed the crate on the desk, and said hesitantly “Hello, I’m looking for...Halsir.”

The tall, pink woman behind the counter turned around defensively. “Who’s asking?” 

“I have a rush delivery, the name on the order is Halsir”

Before Nyfah had even finished her sentence the woman was beaming and bouncing on her feet.

“Oh, you’re early! My sweet boy, he’s finally here! I’ve been beside myself” She squealed.

Nyfah, carefully pried the lid off the crate and stepped back.

Halsir gingerly lowered her hands into the box and lifted out a furry creature, it had a long slim neck and limbs, with bird-like feet, and a feline face.

“Hello sweetheart, how was the ride?” 

The creature chittered at the woman, and she turned a concerned gaze on Nyfah.

“He said there was a loud noise that scared him, I hope that you didn’t run into any trouble on the way here!”

Nyfah frowned at the tattletale pet “No ma’am. I had a minor mechanical issue and there was an alarm, it didn’t ring for long.”

The woman’s jovial smile returned to her face and she placed the creature onto the counter. “Wonderful dear, here you are.”

She tossed a small flat square into Nyfah’s outstretched hand and began retreating to the back room.

Nyfah stared at it, her arm still extended. “What am I supposed to do with this?” She asked incredulously “I require the second half of my payment! We agreed half up front and half upon delivery, I’ve kept my end of the deal!”

Halsir turned and smiled at her “Believe me dear, what you’ll find on that is worth much more than I could pay you”

Nyfah rolled her eyes “If it’s worth that much why are you giving it to me instead of what we agreed on?”

“Because!” Halsir walked back over, “I’m far too old and delicate to go treasure hunting. I was given good intel that this treasure is a grail, but none of my customers will buy the map! Anyone who is able to recover the goods will go down in history as the all-time best treasure hunter to ever live, the greatest honour and glory. Also to be honest with you I thought you were just a small-time smuggler, but I saw a poster just the other day and your bounty is quite high. I figured if you were able to find the treasure you could pay off the right people. I needed to get my sweet baby angel…”

Honour and glory? Nyfah’s eyes widened, she had been trying to make a name for herself for years. She was one of the best smugglers in the business; but being a smuggler meant staying under the radar. She wanted to be somebody. Rich, envied, maybe even mystic in reputation. This was an opportunity that could lead to all of that! If it was real…

“Wait, wait, wait,” Nyfah interrupted, “what is this so-called treasure, and how can you guarantee that it is what you say it is and that it will be there?”

“I got the intel from my supplier. He has never lied to me; I know I can trust him. As for what it is, it is an ancient relic said to depict a god so old no-one alive knows the religion it belonged to. Depictions of it were found in some ancient writings though” Halsir paused, trying to remember something.

Nyfah frowned, this whole thing could be some kind of trick.

“I’m going to need collateral” she finally responded, not realizing that Halsir had resumed talking. 

“I understand dear, you mysterious types aren’t very trusting. I’ll just pay you the second half of your fee” 

‘Mysterious types’ Nyfah thought smiling slightly, she paused, “all right, if I do find this treasure, I’ll come back and pay you a finders fee. If it isn’t, you’ll know your supplier is full of it.” 

“Deal.” Halsir handed the outstanding balance to Nyfah. “Good luck my dear.”

“Thanks, maybe I’ll see you later.” Nyfah called back, grinning, as she exited the shop.

——-

Nyfah held the square up to the light as she began the walk back to her ship. The tech was old, almost outdated, but her ship’s interface would be able to read it. As she slipped it into her pocket mulling over where it would lead, she bumped into someone, almost losing her balance.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” She glanced up and felt her heart drop when she saw the enforcers patch.

“Stop right there. Show me your identification.” The enforcer’s voice was harsh.

Nyfah pulled out a fake ID and handed it over.

The two enforcers scanned it and one of them handed it back.

“Watch where you’re going. Don’t move.”

“Thank you” Nyfah took her ID and shoved it into her clothes.

She stood motionless, watching the enforcers as they discussed her retrieved data for any indication of suspicion. She noticed a group of tourists walking towards her; as they got close she stealthily swapped hats with one of them and flipped her jacket inside out. What had looked like a delivery uniform on one side became a dusty brown cape reaching almost to her knees, with a large hood. She slid the hood over her head and joined with the tourists, matching their pace and behaviour. She heard the enforcers start to shout to each other and the people around them. They were attempting to stop people in clothing similar to her delivery uniform — luckily they hadn’t seen where she had gone. As the group around her started to stop and turn around, her heart racing, Nyfah began speed walking, following her ARD back to her ship.

She broke out into a run as she turned a corner and got halfway to her ship when she came upon another group of enforcers. As she ran past she heard them say something about a suspicious delivery person. 

Good, she thought. Her disguise was holding. 

“You there!Slow down!” One of the enforcers yelled after her.

Nyfah slipped her hand over the handle of a baton she had hidden in her cloak.

“Yes sir!” She shouted back, and shifted back to a fast walking pace.

She glanced back to see they had returned to their conversation.

She managed to get back to the elevator without getting in any more trouble and breathed a sigh of relief as the doors closed and the lift began ascending.

——-

Nyfah felt the dread creep back up her spine as she stepped out of the elevator. An enforcer was inspecting her ship as another stood guard. They must have matched her uniform and description with the security feed to find her ship. She had to find a way to sneak on board.

Calmly walking past her ship, Nyfah set her sights on another craft in the same bay. It was small, barely held together by assembled bits of scrap, and after easily circumventing the door lock she crept quietly inside. She furrowed her brow in disappointment upon finding that the interface was extremely simple and limited; it would not be able to read the chip from Halsir. It was what she had expected from the dilapidated exterior of the ship, but it could still be useful. 

She connected a remote control device to the interface and exited the ship, ensuring to re-secure the door lock. She once again walked past her ship, this time heading back to the elevator, but ducked behind a wall before reaching it. Using her ARD Nyfah powered up the engines of the run-down ship. Once she heard the sound of the door being rammed by the enforcers she made a break for her ship. Once onboard she plopped into her captain's chair and fired her engines at full burn. 

She increased the thrusters and felt the ship lurch and pitch as it tried to get airborne, then it began pulling away from the landing bay. 

“LHY-825 you are not cleared for takeoff! I repeat you are not cleared for takeoff! Land your ship immediately!” The ship’s speakers crackled as though they were trying to properly relay the anger she could hear in the orders.

She smirked and cut communication, there was no way she was following that command.

Narrowly dodging the carefully organized chaos of incoming and outgoing vessels, Nyfah heard Portunus’ emergency response siren start and saw enforcer cruisers closing in on her. Far ahead she saw the Planetary Defense Shields starting to close. Seeing the other ships trying to get out of the way, Nyfah slammed her thrusters to full. Her ship heaved violently and she felt an intense pressure pinning her into her seat. 

The pressure worsened as she careened toward the atmosphere, and as she approached the Defense shield she felt the pressure blossom into pain. It felt as though she may explode, fighting with all her might she lifted her arm to the thruster and pulled it back. As her ship slowed the pressure lightened, and what had been immense pain reduced to a dull ache. She had cleared the shield and was leaving the atmosphere, there was hope yet.

——-

Nyfah had managed to escape into open space, however several of the galactic enforcer cruisers pursuing had managed to get through as well. Luckily they were far behind her as they had not used her aggressive flying tactics. Now that she was free of the atmosphere she redeployed the thrusters to full. 

She took the opportunity to plug the treasure map chip into her ship, then linked up her ARD. A holo map popped up, showing her current location and that of the treasure. She studied the map closely. The ‘god relic’ was in the same galaxy, on a planet close to the centre. It was going to take a while to get there, even travelling through hyperspace. A flashing light accompanied by a steady beeping pulled Nyfah out of her thoughts; someone was trying to hail her on the open communication channel.

She pushed a button to receive the transmission and was greeted by a stern voice “-no authorization for take-off, stop your ship immediately for boarding.”

Nyfah weighed her options before deciding that her best course of action was to enter hyperspace. The galactic enforcers would not be able to follow her without coordinates, they could try to follow her trajectory, but they would have no idea of where she was going or why so none of their estimations would be helpful.

Nyfah smirked as she prepped and engaged the hyperdrive. Once she entered hyperspace, she decided to pull up any relevant information on her destination planet. It was nearly 25,000 light years away from Portunus, and had once been inhabited by a small population of the human species who had tried to prepare it for permanent habitation; however they had withdrawn for an unknown reason. It had been devoid of life ever since. She would not be able to breathe it’s atmosphere, so she made sure she had an exploration suit ready.

The planet was named QRNS-3858, but had been affectionately nicknamed Quirinus by the humans. It had mostly a rocky surface with some large areas of liquid water. It looked like she would be landing at one of the abandoned human colonies.

It had been a millennia since there had been reports of human contact, as they had taken to disguising themselves as other species when on their own and there were rumours that they had hidden civilizations across the universe, but did not like interacting with others. Either way it was unlikely she would run into one.

Nyfah settled in for the long journey ahead.

——-

As she came out of hyperspace she was alarmed to see everything around her ship slowly moving away from her. After a few moments it seemed to have stopped, but she realized that it was because her ship was now a part of whatever was happening. She was slowly being pulled into the direction of Quirinus. As she cautiously increased her speed, Nyfah felt her skin tingling with apprehension.

Suddenly she noticed a thin golden bloom in the distance that was rapidly expanding into a plume. Confused, Nyfah turned on all of her scanners. She felt her blood run cold as she realized that beyond Quirinus at the centre of the galaxy was a supermassive black hole. What had become a glittering cloud in the light of the nearby stars could only be a quasar, a large amount of space dust escaping the huge black hole.

It had now become a race; Nyfah had to get to Quirinus before what had quickly become a massive wave of space dust got to her. To make matters worse, the strange pull she had observed earlier was now seemingly trying to push her away. Gritting her teeth Nyfah diverted all of her power to her engines and maxed her throttle to get her to top speed.

Her ship began to rattle and shake as she approached the huge wave. She was only a few minutes away from reaching Quirinus’ atmosphere, but she wasn’t sure she was going to make it. The wave had spread so that she could no longer see the inky blackness of space. As the dust enveloped the planet, she began to doubt if landing would be any safer than being where she was now. Soon the dust began hitting her ship and, cursing, Nyfah quickly diverted some power to her shields. Silent warnings and flashing lights began popping up, and she knew her ship wouldn’t be able to last much more of the beating it was receiving. Her shields were failing when she made it to the atmosphere, but she had made it. She greatly reduced her speed as she approached the planet’s surface.

Nyfah pulled up the map again, and followed the location tag to colony 4. She landed her ship and pulled on her exploration suit. She began disembarking and grunting with effort,  heaved the exterior door open. Little bits of debris that had been trapped in the seams of the door clattered to the ground, bouncing off her helmet and shoulders as she stepped out. Checking the damage; she found all of the paint was stripped clean off, and there were gouges where larger rocks had cleaved into the ship. She shivered considering what would have happened if she had been in the storm a few minutes longer. There were scorch marks covering most of the surface, and the damage was especially bad around the area where she had removed the storage bay. She would probably be able to leave Quirinus without any major issues, but it was going to take some work.

She looked up to see the dust storm had created a fiery rain as everything entering the atmosphere burned up. Luckily most of it was completely incinerated before reaching the ground, but every now and then a palm sized rock would smack into the ground. Nyfah began her search wary of the celestial menacing.

——-

Several dwellings later, to her excitement, Nyfah came across a large locked box that matched the image on the holo-map. She broke the lock and pried open the box.

She felt adrenaline surge through her like electricity as she reached in and pulled out the relic. It was beautiful, intricate and delicate looking. She was surprised it had lasted this long. It appeared to be a small statuette depicting a red haired warrior holding a jewelled sword, resting in its sheath, at his right hip. His short hair, blue headscarf and tattered red lined cape billowed in an invisible wind. Glittering blue armour rested on top of a blue and white tunic with gold adornments. He stood atop what looked like a golden coin in red and brown boots, blue knee armour adorning wide, flared white boot coverings. A small clear cube encased the relic attached to a stiff paper backing with an enlarged picture of the little god on a background of green.

In the top right was an intricate symbol, one of the characters matching the symbol on the coin the god was standing on except it was on fire. The bottom right hand corner had a friendly looking symbol with three brightly coloured squares on each side. In a darker green than the background beneath the picture of the warrior there were three large characters, most likely depicting his name, R O Y.

Nyfah wasn’t sure what it said, but she would be able to cross reference it with the writings Halsir had mentioned. She made her way back to her ship in a state of bliss, she had found the treasure.

——-

Who: An alien being pursued by the government What: looking for a Roy amiibo waiting to be opened When: in an impending tsunami zone/area Where: in the first inhabitable planet outside this solar system Why: for the fame and glory

[nightspeckle]

High School Au

Jude and Cardan hate eachother with everyinch of thier bodies. But one night can change everything, or can it?

Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 4 

******

Jude’s Pov:

“Why would I want to go to that?” I ask confused why this is even a question.

Liliver is biting into one of her celery sticks the crunch loud in the space between the three of us. Fand is looking at me with a smile in her eyes as we sit in the giant cafeteria.

“Oh c’mon Jude, it could be fun!” Fand is bouncing on her seat the smile spreading to her lips now.

“They’re awful people, it would probably be shit and I don’t want to go.”

“Those are my friends you’re talking about Jude,” Fand mumbles stirring up the yogurt she’s eating.

“Why are you friends with them?” Lil asks her eyes glinting with amusement.

“I second that question,” I say as Fand rolls her eyes at the both of us.

“They're not all that awful,” Fand says eyes scanning the cafeteria behind me.

I scoff. Liliver scoffs. The boys next to us scoff. The lunch ladies scoff. The teachers scoff. My 90 year old neighbor with the creepy Elvis posters scoffs. The three people who live in Antarctica scoff. The whole world scoffs at that.

Fand just sighs at us. “They're actually really... I mean they are kinda shitty, aren’t they?”

A quiet laugh bubbles out of me. Same with Liliver as she focuses back on finishing her AP Chem homework before lunch ends.

“I heard that Van was going,” Fand says her voice singsongy and directed at Lil.

Ridiculous. I can’t believe Fand pulled that card.

“Fuck you. Now I’m going” Lil says a smirk playing on her lips as she shoves Fand’s shoulder playfully.

“And your little ghostly pale boy Jude,” She winks at me then.

“He’s not my boy,” I say a little annoyed. “We’re just friends,”.

“Sure you are,” Liliver says tapping her pencil on her notebook.

“So you’re coming now,” Fand states now a smile wide on her face. She’s confident that she swindled my no into a yes. Which sucks because she has. Ugh.

“Yeah,”

....

The worst thing about high school parties is the heat. A hundred bodies stuffed into one house all huddled around one another. I can feel a bead of sweat drip down my forehead and all I’ve been doing is standing. Fucking gross.

Lil huffs out a breath blowing a strand of white curly hair out of her face.

“I knew this would be awful,” I say swirling the concoction in my cup around.

Lil bobs her head in agreement before taking a long sip of the beer she grabbed.

“Maybe we should just go,” I say scanning the crowd again from our perch along the wall.

I’m risking Dad’s curfew rath for this and it isn’t even worth it. I’d rather be drinking alone with Lil and Fand over this scramble of bodies.

“Fand will murder us if we leave before saying hi,” Lil shouts trying to be heard over the pounding music.

She has a mischevious look in her eyes that tells me that’s not why she wants to stay. I can’t help but roll my eyes at the faraway look on her face.

“Let’s at least try to find Fand,” I say into her ear so she can hear me. “Maybe we’ll also find the reason you wore this.” I pick at her black bra strap wiggling my eyebrows while talking.

“Ass!” Lil says shoulder shoving into mine. I can’t help the laugh that roars out of me as I walk away into the crowd.

It takes a lot of pushing and nudging to get through the mass of hormone-driven bodies in the room but we manage. A smile is on Lil’s face as she spots a tall black haired boy leaning against the doorway into the kitchen.

When he spots Lil he brightens up. Even a small smile comes to his face.

“Hey Lil,” His voice is steady and clear even in the chaos that is this party.

“Hey V,” Lil’s smile is bright and her eyes shining along with it. She’s completely entranced. I stand there for a few seconds but they both have already started talking again, forgetting my existence completely. Perfect.

I take a step away ready to hightail it and find Fand but Van speaks. “Garrett is in the kitchen”.

I turn back to say thanks but my words die when I see they’re already back to only paying attention to each other.

There so blindly in love.

I can’t help but stifle the giggle that comes surging up before pushing my way through more bodies to the kitchen. 

What the hell have I been drinking?

“Jude?” 

Oh shit. I turn to where the voice came from and regret it immediately.

There’s a group of people sprawled out on a few chairs and couches. Alcohol and pot clutched in their fingers.

I look to the chair closest to me where my sister sits limbs intertwined with her boyfriend. She’s sitting in his lap hands curling around his hair.

“I thought you were staying at home?” Taryn’s voice is soft, sweet. It’s obvious she’s trying to be nice. To mend the rift that she created. I shake it off and give her a shrug that she can read however she wants to.

“What a pleasant surprise to see you here,” Locke says. His eyes roving over me as he speaks. All while he runs his hands over my sister in places you wouldn’t see in a PG movie. “You look nice,”

Taryn flinches at that.

It makes it so much harder to restrain the urge to flip him off.

I take a deep breath and force myself to smile slightly at Taryn before turning away.

“Have fun, Jude!” I hear her say. I think if I spend one more second with them both Locke will end up dead. Well not really. But it’s nice to fantasize sometimes.

I look over my shoulder with the intention of waving goodbye and immediately wish I hadn’t. He’s kissing her on the neck, his hands pulling her closer to him all while his eyes bore into mine.

She’s ruffling his mess of orange hair and his eyes are glinting mischievously as he winks at me. Asshole.

I whip around the corner and duck into the kitchen. 

Too soon. Way too fucking soon.

I find my way into the kitchen and gulp down a shot of vodka. 

I look around the kitchen praying to find Garrett. But I strike out yet again. He’s nowhere to be seen.

Lil is too busy trying to get Van to notice she’s in love, Fand and Garrett are MIA, and Taryn’s hooking up with my ex-boyfriend. All while I drink by myself in the kitchen next to an obnoxiously loud group of girls.

I fucking hate parties.

....  

A bead of sweat slides down my neck as I continue to jump around with Vivi and Heather. I thankfully found them after my 3rd shot. I don’t think I could have stayed any longer if I hadn’t.

The music is coursing through my limbs, my whole body buzzing along with the beat. My head is fuzzy enough to know that I’ll hate myself tomorrow but like whatever. 

My hands interlaced with Viv’s are up in the air and my body is moving at its own accord at this point. Viv’s golden eyes keep flashing blue when the lights do and for some reason, I feel myself laughing.  

I’m pressed so tight up to Viv in the crowd that I can barely see Heather anymore. I don’t think I could ever be closer to another person until suddenly I am. 

Hands from behind me grab my waist and in a blink of an eye, I've pulled away from Viv and pressed against someone else entirely. 

The music is flowing through me and I just follow it, the person behind me moving to the beat as well. 

I look down at the hands attached to my waist. They're big, strong, a guys. Chipped black nail polish is splayed on his fingertips. He’s wearing a few gold rings and I feel them bite into my skin. Hot. 

I lean back, one body molding into the other as songs pass by. 

One of his hands slips down my ass as he spins me around to face him. My hands are roving to intertwine with black curly hair. 

Black eyes. Abnormally beautiful black eyes meet mine. I know one person with those eyes. 

It’s like someone dropped a bucket of ice down my shirt. Goosebumps popping up everywhere we touched. 

My eyes clear enough to reply to who this is. Who I just danced with. Grinded on.

I take a step back, see the hatred I know so well fill his cold cruel eyes.

And then I slap him across the face.

~~~

[thewritingstar]

For the headcannon thing, 3 15 19 20 25 26 31 and 39 (sorry i know it’s a lot) with Butch and Buttercup.

imma go on a limb and say its this one cause thats the most recent list i reblog. if not please ask again with the list you wanted just so that i did the correct ones. And dont apologize!!! I love answering question and i answer huge prompts all the time (record is 200) 

alright here we go!!

-----

3)  Are they open about their relationship? How do they feel about public displays of affection?

-At first they keep it a secret. Only just slightly more touching of the shoulders and longer stares but eventually they don’t care. They don’t really mind a kiss on the cheek there or a hug there but they never make out in public unless they are hidden away because they hate seeing the blues go ham on each other. However they didn’t tell the press about their relationship for about three years. It was a secret game they had and it was funny watching the world explode at the news. (Boomers and Bubbles posted their own relationship 54 mins after they got together) 

15)  How adventurous are they?

-Dare devils to the max with every single aspect of their life. Whether its food, or adventures, or.....cough cough other things... They try it all at least once. Being able to fly and have super powers lessens the fear and they usually do things on their own. They sky dive where they fly super high up and then stop until they are closer to the ground. They will eat exotic foods and do what ever they can to up the other person. HE WONT EAT A SNAIL THOU. thats a no no and no matter how much he gets teased, he winces at the thought. 

19) What do they fight about? What are their arguments like? How do they make up?

-They don’t argue very often, they bicker and if they do have fights its yelling matches. They don’t really use their powers on each other as they get older but sometimes they flip a coin on who wins the argument if they simply can not agree. 

If they do yell its because they are worried about the other person. There have been too many times where one of them is in a hospital bed and thats when te tears and the fights break out. 

The make up by huffing anf puffing at each other until their eyes meet and they finally calm down and instantly go into make up kissing and then yeah know..

20)  What does their home look like? Their room?

-There house is decked out in black furniture and creepy stuff. A coffin shaped coffee table and bone shaped cushions. They are such huge horror fans that the have movie posters on the wall and collectibles because they are nerds. The style is Gothic and imagine that their emo phases never truly left. Their room is the same thing. A giant king size bed and snacks in the nightstands. Its just a dark paradise and Bubbs thinks its creepy. 

they also have a home gym with those weird inspirational quotes posters as a joke. 

25) How much time do they spend together? Do they share their feelings, or hold things in?

-Too much time. During hs they had most of the same classes and hung out after school. They are best friends and rarely get sick of each other, that’s how close they are. 

26) - How do their friends feel about their relationship? Their families?

-Everyone is on board. I mean its the greens, who wouldn't love them?? Blossom is the biggest greens fan and you can not change my mind. Before announcing it to the world, BC asked her older sister what she thought of the idea and Blossom hugged her and told her that he makes her happy and thats all she deserves. 

31) Do they finish each other’s sentences? Pick up any phrases or habits from each other? Know when the other is hiding something?

-Only if its movie quotes will they finish each others sentences. They usually talk over each other mostly. Buttercup cusses more than she used too and Blossom blames him. 

39)  Who initiated the relationship? Who kissed who first?  When did they realize they were in love?

-I always think that Butch would kiss her first. It would happen so fast and suddenly and she would blink then kiss him back harder. During high school senior year is when she realizes shes in love with him. They started dating what i assume junior year and towards the end of senior year, she realized she was head over heels for him. It wasn’t in a dramatic way but she was in class and all of a sudden it came to her. 

Butch has been in love with her since 8th grade but only acted on it during hs when he would tease her until they started dating. (no one believes that hes the best bf but he is) 

-

I hope you like these responses! Thank you for asking!!