#i talk a lot. I’m so serious when I put that tag

[littleguyconnor]

I’ve started over on this painting like 4 times already and I want to take a a break. I am going to do a character study of Medic because he’s the one I feel people get the most wrong. (I’ll try and be as factual as possible but my own interpretation of him will be in there too, it’s inevitable, yadda yadda)

Let’s start with his hunting his old team with the classic mercs, since that’s when we’re first reunited with him.

It was not done out of betrayal.

I want to reference a piece of dialogue that I think showcases his entire mindset about it very well. When Classic Heavy asks if hunting down his old team will be a problem, Medic replies by saying “A chance to test my latest triumphs against my earliest experiments? No, that won’t be a problem at all.”

Look at the phrasing of that. There isn’t a single hint of malice or ill intent in it. His earliest experiments. His teammates that he’s spent years building up, improving, trying everything he knows and doesn’t to make them the best mercenaries he can. Against his latest triumphs. He wants to see how far he can take his practice, if all his work can hold up against something he knows is strong. It’s like how engineering students stand on their bridges to make sure it holds. Sure, it might break, but now they, Medic in this case, know what to improve on. Is it a very literal and playing-with-life kind of method? Yes. But that’s all it is. There isn’t any underlying reasoning, he thinks very literally and does things the same way. We also know this is true because he says it himself when Sniper confronts him about it, explaining that he was genuinely happy to see them and that his facial expression just came across differently to Sniper. Now, another thing I want to talk about on this topic is why he joined the Classic team in the first place. In the same panel I referred to last time there’s a very specific phrasing CHeavy uses that I want to highlight.

“I swear to god, if you put a single uterus in my men…”

Medic was never considered part of the team, and he knows this. He actually uses this to advantage. He’s an impermanent addition, and thus inconsequential. He’s using them as guinea pigs and that is what’s done out of malice. He’s being mistreated and obviously not considered anything of worth, so he’s going to retaliate in a very Medic fashion. This man is not a pushover, and of everything, I want to get that across the most.

Medic is extremely strong, both physically and mentally. He’s able to hold out for a considerable amount of time against CHeavy throwing him around. The thing that ends up killing him is a cheap shot from a gun. He’s also witty enough to outsmart Satan himself. (I don’t think there’s really anything else to say on that one.) This man is so intelligent and knows when people are using him from the second they start, and he plays along with it. He doesn’t even necessarily act dumb either. It’s just that he’s so eccentric and personable that people mistake him as someone easily to manipulate and end up getting ripped apart from the inside.

Branching off from this point: Medic is a genuinely kind person. He’s just weird. And I mean that in the most professional way possible. His intentions are good and done out of a passion for medicine, curiosity, and respect for his team. There’s a reason he spends so much time improving them. Part of it is just the morbid curiosity and the satisfaction that comes from fulfilling that, but it’s also because he wants his team to win. He wants them to be the best versions of themselves, literally. His odd and eccentric demeanor just makes his actions come out a little morbid and frightening. But he loves people. And he cares. Above all, remember, he’s a doctor. And it’s a doctor’s job to help people.

Now onto his relationship with Heavy. What I’m going to be talking about with this leans a little more on the head canon side, but I don’t think it’s too far off from what could actually be canon.

Whether they’re friends, lovers or something else isn’t relevant. Regardless of what they are, they have an incredibly strong bond built on solid foundations. Respect is the main one.

Medic’s teammates seem to have a strange disregard for him. It’s the same treatment they give Pyro, although there’s less infantilization and more flippant-ness. I don’t think it’s done out of meanness, more just so that he’s outwardly really freakish and open about experimenting on them with dubious ethics. They care about him, he’s a vital part of the team, it’s just.. less enthusiastic. But with Heavy, that dynamic changes completely. Heavy respects him so much, and likes him genuinely enough to see past the thing everyone else gets hung up on. And it’s because Medic is the only one he’s met that is capable of outsmarting bullets. Heavy respects Medics genuine intelligence and skill, and because Heavy is extremely smart too, they get along really well. And Medic cares so much for Heavy. I think that as a child, he grew up very estranged and “othered” for his interests and awkward social skills. There haven’t been many people in his life who are willing to get close to him, or really, let him get close to them. And there’s a kind of refuge he takes in Heavy for that. A mutual understanding and care for each other.

And yes, Medic is an awkward person! Just not in the sense that people typically are, and I think that is such an important part of his character. He isn’t good at expressing empathy in a socially acceptable way as I’ve discussed previously, is overly literal, blunt, and genuinely a little oblivious sometimes to the tone of the conversation or of his own words. And instead of trying to resolve that, he’s just stopped caring about it all together because he knows he can be himself. It’s why his job with the Classic Mercs failed. They wanted him to be something he’s not, and Medic wasn’t going to tolerate that kind of treatment!

[yoohyeontual]

I may have to take a lil hiatus right now 😔

[dudeitiskarev]

I Want to Hold Your Hand | Aaron Hotchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau female reader

Summary: Hotch sends you home and you almost die, which only makes him realize how much he truly loves you.

Word count: 2.4k.

Tags/warnings: hurt/little comfort; season 1 Hotch my beloved <3; canon typical violence; Haley and Jack don’t exist in this universe oopsies; angst with happy ending; Hotch is a baby; probably very inaccurate medical talk bc all I know is from Grey’s; not beta read + English isn’t my first language so good luck with that.

Author’s note: remember when I said I was probably done writing for a Hotch? Turns out all I had to do was stop taking my antidepressant 🙄 anyway, don’t get your hopes high. I just needed to take a break from my never-ending Spence fic so I wrote this. Which is basically a rewrite of what happened with Elle. I just wanted to make Hotch suffer a little so I hope you like it!

MASTERLIST

A few hours ago, Aaron kissed the top of your head and sent you back to the hotel with a police officer.

Now, he was in a hospital waiting room with his heart in his throat, hoping the doctor would show up with good news.

You’d been attacked in your hotel room, and it was his fault.

“They’re gonna set up a bed for you in her room.” Jason walked in with a cup of coffee for Aaron. His fourth one already.

“She’s… not out of surgery yet,” Aaron shut his eyes. “We don’t know if —”

“The hospital chief, I know him.” Gideon sort of smiled. “I asked him if he could go check on her. All I know is that they’re closing her up now.”

The words began to sound far and faded as if Aaron was underwater. His vision blurred and his legs would’ve given up if he wasn’t sitting down already.

It was his soul returning to his body.

He didn’t want to get his hopes high, though. If they were closing you up it meant you were alive, but nothing else. There could be a hundred things wrong with you while being alive.

All he could do was nod and put his hands together over his lips like a prayer.

You were alive.

“The doctor should be here with the updates any minute now.” Jason sat next to Aaron and gave him a gentle tap on his back.

Gideon knew. Even when Hotch hadn’t told anyone about his feelings—not even you—he spent most of his day with profilers so of course the best one in his team knew about it.

“I’m heading back to the hotel soon,” Gideon continued. “See what the hell happened. Why… How did they let the unsub enter her room. Garcia should be landing soon. We need to check every security camera.” He smacked his tongue in disappointment and shook his head.

Aaron rose from his seat and tried his best to at least let his shoulders relax but every bit of him had turned into concrete.

“Where are Reid and Morgan?” He asked, pacing back and forth and stretching his neck from one side to the other. Even in moments like this, he needed to know where the rest of his people were. Especially in moments like this.

“Back at the local PD,” Gideon answered.

“JJ?”

“She’s talking to the hotel manager, making sure none of the employees makes any declaration to the press before we catch the guy.”

Aaron nodded, and soon, the doctor walked into the room with the updates.

“Surgery was a success,” he began. “We managed to repair all the damage and save her lung. Now, she flatlined once in the ambulance and then again during surgery so her brain has been through a lot.”

It wasn’t the time to profile anyone, but the way the doctor couldn’t keep eye contact for longer than two seconds told Aaron he was aiming at something more serious.

“Just tell us.” Aaron rubbed his thumb with his fingers.

“She’s not breathing on her own yet and according to her EEG, her last exam, her brain is swollen. It may take her a while to wake up.” The doctor gulped. “If she wakes up.”

Aaron’s entire world crumbled once again. He pinched the bridge of his nose and walked to a corner to pull himself together.

This was his fault. You might never wake up and it was his fault.

“When can we see her?” Gideon asked for him.

“You can see her now but… you need to be prepared. A machine is breathing for her. There’s a tube down her throat and it might be a lot to look at.”

Just picturing you like that turned his stomach upside down.

God, if you don’t ever wake up—

“She’s gonna wake up.” Penelope’s voice entered the room and so did the light she carried everywhere.

She was one of Aaron’s comfort people. If Penelope was there, there was hope.

“Garcia,” Jason said in a don’t tone.

“She’s strong.” Penelope walked up to Hotch anyway. “And people wake up from comas. Miracles happen and—” Her eyes filled with tears once she touched Hotch’s arm to get his attention. “She needs us, she needs you. And we need her.”

Garcia also knew, apparently. And if she knew without being a profiler, everyone else knew.

“I found this.” She handed Hotch a Polaroid picture of you. You were leaning on Garcia’s desk, your arms folded over your chest and with your sweet, sweet smile. There was the hope. “I took it a while ago and kept it on my desk along with the others but…”

Aaron took it with a shaky hand. You were mesmerizing.

“García,” Gideon insisted.

A nurse interrupted to let them know they could see you now.

“You go,” Gideon said to Hotch, taking a step back. “Just call me if anything changes. Garcia, you’re coming with me.”

“Yes, sir.” Penelope gave Hotch one last hopeful smile before following Jason out.

Aaron looked at your photo again and took deep breaths to gather himself as walked to the endless hall that took him to you.

“We’ll set up your bed in a few.” The nurse smiled at him, gesturing for him to go in. “She looks good. It might not look like it because of all the machines but she’s doing good. She’s a strong woman.”

Aaron said a quiet thanks before the nurse left.

It was just you and him.

The steady beeping of the machine brought him a sense of comfort—it meant you were alive—yet his feet were hesitant to take him next to you. He stood at the door for a moment, watching you from afar.

As the doctor had said, it was a lot to look at. It reminded him of the last time he saw someone close to him like this: his father. The difference was that back then, he couldn’t wait for his dad to die.

Today, he’d found himself praying multiple times to a god he wasn’t even sure existed most times.

He dared to move and when he reached your side, he almost crumbled. You had a few bruises on your left cheek, your knuckles were split—you even had a broken finger, and you looked beautiful as ever. He wished he could see the twinkle of your eyes, hear your voice, catch you smiling at him.

Guilt brewed at the pit of his stomach again. He should’ve gone with you. He should’ve been with you.

He lifted one hand to stroke your head and tears welled up as soon as his skin touched yours. His chin quivered and he sniffled quietly as tears threatened to spill. He used the heel of his hands to dry them away. He couldn’t cry, even if you were in a coma and couldn’t see him like this—broken. You believed people’s energy had effects on others, and you needed him to be strong. He needed to be more like you.

His bed was set soon after, right next to you. His eyes were heavy, and his muscles were sore. Even then, he couldn’t bring himself to lie down. He was scared to close his eyes. What if you died while he was asleep? He stayed sitting down, holding your hand and never losing sight of you.

“It’s raining,” he said out loud, talking to you. “Every time it rains I think of you.”

He smiled at the memories. You’d shown up at his office for your interview drenching, and he was smitten from the very first moment he laid eyes on you.

“Agent Hotchner,” your perky voice caught him off guard. No one inside the BAU building was perky—besides Garcia.

You stood by the door, both hands behind your back waiting for his signal to come in.

“Please.” He gestured with his hand to the seat across from him.

He took half a second to study you quickly. Raindrops were gathered over the shoulders of your blazer and your mascara was a bit smudged under your eyes.

“Forgot your coat, agent?” He commented, peeling his eyes off you and reading through your resume.

“Didn’t think I’d be raining by the time I arrived, sir. I don’t keep an umbrella in my car either. I apologize for my… appearance.”

It wasn’t your appearance that got you on his team, it was your outstanding resume. It made him wonder why you chose to apply to the Behavioral Analysis Unit instead of staying at ViCAP. Your performance there was impeccable.

“I wasn’t feeling comfortable there anymore,” was your answer. “And I want to seek other paths, sir. And I know I’m a good fit for your team.”

You started the very next day, and he partnered up with you to keep an eye on you during your first cases. You were a quick thinker, were fast on your feet, and stayed calm under critical situations.

Not once he felt at a disadvantage in the field for working with the new kid, which only showed him how good you naturally were. He was drawn to you and it wasn’t just because of your professionalism.

It was your fast food order. It was the first joke you ever made that only made him laugh. It was your perfume, the way you spoke with your hands, and how you raised your brows when making a point.

Everything about you made him take a deep breath. You made him dizzy. Lightheaded. Drunk.

Exactly how he felt right now while holding your hand, except that now, the room was spinning at the mere thought of losing you.

“I love you,” he murmured, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing your bruised knuckles with shaky lips. “I love you.”

He’d never said it before. He didn’t know he did until now.

“God, I love you so much. From the moment I saw you, you lit up my life. You made it better, made me better.” He kept talking to you, hoping that his voice would heal everything inside you. “I can’t lose you. I won’t make it.”

Please wake up. Please wake up. Please wake up.

The rain stopped, the hours passed, and the sun never came out.

It’d been two weeks and he’d already made the habit of reading you at night.

“Studies have shown that playing music they really like and talking to the person in a coma increases their chances of waking up,” Spencer had said the day the entire team came to visit you.

Most nights he read case files. Others, he liked to read poetry.

You still hadn’t woken up, but the music, the poetry, and the flowers didn’t stop.

“I hope you don’t mind if I read something by Neruda,” Aaron said as he sat on the chair next to you. “Maybe not Neruda.”

It was one of those nights where hope had watered down with his tears.

He put the book down next to you and held your hand. He hadn’t stopped holding your hand; he hadn’t stopped kissing it either. He sighed deeply and stood up to draw the blinds, turning his back to you.

A loud smack against the floor startled him, making him turn around. The book he’d left next to you had fallen. He didn’t think he’d left it at the edge of the bed, but he picked it up without much curious and went to put it where it was.

Your hand twitched when he grazed your knuckles casually.

Then it twitched again—harsher—and a soft whimper came from your chest. That sound definitely came out of your body.

Aaron was quick to check on you, towering over you and watching you closely. Your eyelids started to move and the next thing he knew, he was making eye contact with you.

Those beautiful twinkling eyes took his breath away.

“We need a doctor in here!” He was quick to react, pressing the call button.

Nurses stormed inside and moved him out of the way to assist you.

“She’s awake. She’s fighting the tube,” was all he heard before a thousand tingles rushed through him.

You were awake.

Your doctor arrived soon after to examine you and Aaron stood there as they took the tube out.

You coughed and writhed with discomfort.

“Can you tell me your name?” Your doctor moved a small flashlight in front of your eyes.

You blinked a few times and searched around the room. Your eyes landed on Aaron. “Hotch?”

Your soft voice traveled to him and enveloped his heart, mending every bit that was broken.

“Hi,” he merely said.

You shook your head and said your name instead. Your doctor asked some more questions like your birthday, where you worked at and what was the last thing you remembered, and the entire time your eyes were trained on Aaron.

“It’s vague.” You took a sharp breath. “I think I was attacked but I don’t know how. I can assume by this unglued scar, though.” You put your palm on your chest.

“We’re still going to do some tests,” Your doctor said. “But you’re great. Pupils are responsive, your lungs sound healthy and there are no signs of brain damage. No memory loss. No speech loss either.”

“How soon can she go home?” Aaron asked, taking another step closer. He finally stood by your side, and you reached for his hand.

This was you. Sweet and caring even at your worst.

“I’d like to keep her under observation for a couple of days, then she can go. But just so you know, you can’t fly for at least two weeks after open-chest surgery.”

The doctor gave you some other indications before leaving, then it was just the two of you as it’d been for the past two weeks. Though now he got to see the twinkle of your eyes, hear your voice, and catch you smiling at him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, tilting your head to the side like a puppy.

“I sent you away and—“ he raised his brows.

“Don’t.” You squeezed his hand. “Don’t do that. Don’t… blame yourself.”

“I should’ve come with you. I should’ve— god, you almost died. You almost died,” he repeated in a whisper, shutting his eyes with pain.

The guilt was still there.

“But I didn’t.”

“I was so scared,” he admitted, daring to look back at you.

“I… don’t remember much. Just bits and pieces but I do remember that I wasn’t scared. I think. I… channeled you at that moment.” You laughed. “I remember thinking, Hotch wouldn’t be scared, he would put up a fight, so I did. I fought the guy, which got me almost killed but I wasn’t scared.” You lifted your hand and cradled his face, rubbing your thumb over his cheek. “You have a beard.”

He chuckled. “Barely.”

“It looks good. I like it.”

He didn’t like it much, but he was grateful it was there so you wouldn’t see how hard he was blushing. He poured you some water and handed it you to distract himself from it.

“Where are we?” You then asked, taking a sip from the straw.

“Seattle.” Aaron raised his brows while licking his lips.

Last time you two were in Seattle, you’d kissed for the first time.

“Oh,” you mirrored his smirk. “So that’s gonna be like a three-day road trip back to Quantico?”

“It’s either that or two more weeks in Seattle until you can fly there,” he responded.

“Both sound amazing, don’t you think?” you scanned his face up and down and heat rushed to his cheeks again. “Thank you for staying with me, Aaron.”

I love you, he thought.

“How could I not?” he said instead.

Never said there would be a love confession now did I 🤭 But don’t worry, hotch confesses his love during the road trip <33333 also the title is a The Beatles song bc he played The Beatles a lot while reader was in a coma. And bc he held her hand a lot.

I hope you liked it!!!!

[cheesiedomino]

RentABoyfriend.com ꙳ ੭ * ‧

synopsis: you’re tired of being single so you to take an unusual route in helping with that— but what happens when you start catching real romantic feelings for your rental boyfriend?

genre: seo changbin x fem!reader | fake relationship/dating au wc: 5.1k tags/warnings: fluff, v minor angst, mild cursing, (kinda) nerdy changbin, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol usage, just overall very cute story dw <33

[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]

“I have a date tomorrow guys.”

Everyone’s head instantly lifts up from their phones at this sudden announcement, collectively drawing their attention at you. You weren’t expecting all of them to gasp and swap such looks of genuine confusion. It’s starting to make you think maybe this situation was a lot more serious than you’ve bargained it out to be.

You couldn’t fathom it either honestly, the realization of you going out with someone probably won’t settle in until you’re physically on the date. Based on their initial responses though, you might regret everything you’re about to say, but it’s far too late to retract any of your statements now.

“No way.. with who??” Danielle is the first out of everyone to ask.

Taehyung chimes in as well, “Yeah, who’s the lucky person? They’ve gotta be something seriously special to be talking to you.”

Well, you suppose you could put it that way.

You already have a preconceived notion of what they’re going to think of this “idea”. Mentally preparing yourself to receive a flood of questions and critique from your close friends.

“Actually… I rented him. For the week.”

Now they’re all looking at you like you’ve officially lost it. The room got scarily quiet, no one wanted to be the first to speak. You should’ve anticipated on their reactions being like this, it isn’t everyday someone just openly admits to buying a partner online. Nowadays there’s a lucrative market for just about anything, when you stumbled upon an ad for this service called ‘RentABoyfriend.com’ you didn’t think much of it. You laughed the concept off at first, thinking how lonely people must be to buy someone else’s time.

But the ads kept popping up, they wouldn’t stop showing in almost every YouTube video you were watching— even one of your favorite YouTubers promoted them before! So one day you finally decided to check this website out, you wanted to see what the hype’s all about so you signed up just for shits and giggles. You weren’t expecting to actually be somewhat interested in trying this thing out, but after going through a couple different profiles and reading hundreds of positive reviews you were practically sold.

“You rented out a boyfriend..? Seriously ___? I mean, I’m not judging but you’re a gorgeous girl you can easily get a boyfriend without paying for someone’s companionship, I don’t see why you need to rent one.” Mark bluntly expressed his opinion, he was probably the most outspoken out of all of you guys.

Taehyung and Danielle both agreed in unison, it’s practically 3 against 1 at this point. You knew you should’ve waited to tell them but you weren’t anticipating on them being this judgmental about it. You were hoping for a little more support, as they’re all way more experienced than you in the dating scene and could lend some helpful advice about your first date, ever.

See, the thing is you’ve never tried dating before so you wouldn’t know the first thing about it or what to expect from your future partner. You’ve never had a boyfriend, let alone held hands or kissed someone of the opposite sex. Being in your twenties it’s kind of embarrassing to say you’ve never done those things, but you thought what better way to try it out than renting a full-on experience that can give you just that? Well minus the kissing part, but you can make it work.

You were skeptical of doing this whole ‘rent-a-boyfriend’ thing at first because you didn’t think there’d be anyone you’d find suitable enough. A big part of the reason that you’re still single is because you’re extremely picky, you want to date a guy who’s so perfect that he must’ve came straight out of an indie romance film. Your friends would tease you for having such unrealistic standards when it came to dating but you were the all-or-nothing type, you’ll be single with fifty cats before you settle for less. Renting a boyfriend is definitely an unconventional idea of easing into dating but you thought it might be worth a try anyway.

What’s the worse that could happen?

( 1 day earlier )

Hovering your cursor over the bold red text of the website, you read over the main rules before going on to select the person you want for your date.

‘The rules are simple:

You are allowed to see only ONE person at a time, if you want to switch boyfriends you’ll have to pay a $50 fee.

MUST be over 18 to rent a boyfriend, we have implemented an age verification system before the date as we do not tolerate anyone under this age to use our services.

NO kissing, or sexual intimacy allowed. If this is found out later on by our agency we will terminate your contract and ban you from using our services in the future.

Remember to have fun !! ^_^ Our services are great for people who are new to dating or have never been in a relationship. We provide the ~ultimate~ boyfriend experience to all our clients. Customer satisfaction is 100% guaranteed ! (NO REFUNDS)’

Well jeez… they seemed a bit strict but you can deal with those rules and restrictions for the most part.

After hours of skimming through hundreds of profiles, you have a hard time choosing which you like most. Did you want an artsy, shy kind of guy? The tattooed, bad boy aesthetic type? You really couldn’t pick one until you stumble upon a particular profile that catches your eye almost immediately.

SEO CHANGBIN | 168 CM | PART-TIME LIFEGUARD | 24 | *POPULAR ↝

5 Facts About Me: I’ve traveled to over 50+ different countries and counting (ask me which my favorites are), I can speak 4 languages (working on my fifth), love to sing and used to have a rap trio with my buddies from college, I can & will easily lift you up ;) also have a secret talent for cooking, there’s nothing I can’t do!

Why Choose Me? First of all, why not choose me? I’m the best candidate for whatever kind of date you need, something casual, social gatherings, weddings, you name it! I’m very social and can make most people laugh (unless they’re the literal Grinch reincarnated), I’m able to get along well with anyone and just love to have a good time. I hope we can get to know each other and make great memories in the future :)

Going through his pictures you couldn’t believe someone was capable of being this humanely attractive. Don’t even get started on those impeccable muscles either… He really had to sport them in every other one of his photos, wearing the tightest shirts to show the outline of his insanely sculpted frame. You might have just been mesmerized from his godlike visuals alone. They even had a Valentine’s Day deluxe package that comes with seven dates in total for half the price, which they specified was for a limited time only.

$600 later you’ve got a full week of dates lined up with the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in all your years of living. You should’ve definitely went shopping before considering all this because now you actually have a reason to get dolled up for someone.

You were so nervous about going on this date you almost cancelled last minute out of fear. Typing out several different elaborate paragraphs to Changbin on why you couldn’t make it. You didn’t have his real phone number, it was all through an app facilitated by the rental company that was included in the package. Even though you were feeling overwhelmed and practically shaking with anxiety about meeting up with a guy, you still forced yourself to go anyway. You didn’t just dish out all that money just to not show up and waste his time on top of all that.

Your rental boyfriend texted you the location to meet at, it was near a train station so you both could see each other out in a public open space. The outfit you wore was fairly simple, a black mini skirt with warm tights underneath and a cropped turtleneck sweater. You accessorized the look with some dainty jewelry, a thin scarf, and knee high boots to pull everything together. It wasn’t something you usually wore but you had certain clothes you saved for a special occasion like this.

Upon your arrival, you notice him standing near a vending machine and waves over at you with the biggest smile plastered on his face. You awkwardly wave back, giving a soft smile as you slowly walk up to him. He looks even better in person, you don’t even feel adequate enough to be in such a gorgeous man’s presence. No wonder he’s so popular on the site, he’s practically unreal.

“Hi, you must be ___. It’s so nice to finally meet you, might I add you look really beautiful today, I think you’re making my heart race just by looking at you. Happy Valentine’s Day!” Changbin introduces himself, buttering you up with some sweet compliments before handing you the most insane bouquet of roses you’ve ever seen.

You take the flowers and almost stumble backwards from how heavy they were, “Wow, thank you!” Changbin prevents you from falling, quickly coming up behind you to get your balance back.

“Careful honey, can’t have you injured on our first date!” He voices with concern, “I hope you love the idea I came up with, I’ve only been to this place once before but I’m sure it’s still as fun as I remember it, let’s go!” Eagerly grabbing your hand to begin the journey, he turns around again to examine your body language.

“You seem a little tense babe? Do you need a massage?” He asks in a concerned tone again, this is all really beginning to freak you out. You know this is what you signed up for but this was all starting to feel a bit too personal, all the nicknames and sweet talk he’s giving is just something you aren’t used to.

“Uh, no! It’s o-okay.” You shook your head, denying anything suspicious going on. Truth be told you were barely able to contain your composure right now.

Changbin keeps on insisting, “The massage is included in the package so you don’t have to worry about getting charged extra.”

“N-no it’s okay, really. I’m just nervous that’s all, sorry I just don’t meet up with guys…” you shyly admit, finding it hard to look him in the eye.

He nods in understanding, “No need to be nervous with me sweetheart. I’m here to make you feel as comfortable as possible.” The smile he flashes at you instantly makes you warm on the inside, he seems like a genuine, caring person. You think things might go well for you after all.

The rest of the night was full of only good vibes and laughter by the end of it all. Changbin took you to an adult arcade that had old video games like Pac-Man, Super Mario, and Space Invaders, the other side was a bar where people could sit, drink, and socialize. He bought all your drinks that night, let you use up most of his tokens and overall had the most fun you could’ve ever had with someone. He was so easygoing but also knew when to act super caring and would be all lovey dovey with you. He was gentle, nurturing, and could have conversations about anything. You loved that he’d randomly drop some interesting fact you never knew about, or talked about a certain niche topic that he’d go on multiple rants over. It didn’t feel like you were renting someone out to date you, it felt natural— like you’ve known him for longer than a couple hours. Changbin walked you home and held your hand the entire time, along with the flowers he provided a teddy bear and a heart shaped box of chocolates. If that didn’t scream boyfriend goals then you don’t know what does.

The next day you wake up to Changbin blowing your phone up this morning. You had over 26 messages from him, which was pretty excessive in your humble opinion. The first thing he said was good morning then he goes on to express how fun yesterday was and he can’t wait to do it again. He even sent a couple mirror selfies of him at the gym, ‘conceited much?’ You thought. But then again, if you were Seo Changbin you’d probably be full of yourself too.

For today’s date you wore a pretty red sundress that made your skin glow in the sunlight. It’ll definitely get him to compliment you even more— which you secretly love when he does. Changbin calls you before he heads out to the date, letting you know how excited he is to see you again. You couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot on the train as you made your way to the destination, thinking about what he’s planned for you two next. This time you’ll be meeting up at a park but you still have no clue what you’re doing.

Changbin texts you where exactly he is in the park, it was pretty huge so it took you a while to get to him. As you get closer you see him sitting on a large blanket by the lake, on top of it were a bunch of different foods and snacks scattered all around that came out of a huge picnic basket. You were speed walking at this point trying to get to him. His arms opened out for a hug and you lean right into him, what you didn’t expect was for him to suddenly stand up and lift you in his arms to swing around you like a doll.

“Put me down I’m scared of heights!” You squeal out in fear of being too high up in the air. Maybe you really should’ve taken the bio on his profile more seriously when he mentioned certain things.

Finally putting you down after minutes go by of you protesting, Changbin sits you back onto the blanket. He brought an assortment of breads, cheese, fruits, lemonade that he made himself and a couple seltzers. You’ve never seen anyone put such time and effort into a date before, even being here with him is like living in a daydream. He was definitely succeeding in making you feel comfortable, which is something you never thought was possible with men. He actually took his time getting to know you and didn’t sound arrogant whenever he talked about himself, Changbin was so different than other guys who’ve tried hitting on you in the past. He was actually respectful, intelligent, and could easily carry a conversation without long, awkward pauses.

He was literally everything you’re looking for in a guy. But you’ll be seeing him for this week only then it’s bye bye forever. That revelation makes you a little upset, but you try pushing those thoughts in the back of your mind. It’s irrelevant and unnecessary to think about. Yet you can’t help but wonder about certain things though, wanting to know more about his job and what it’s like on a daily basis for him.

“Can I ask you something? I need you to answer it honestly.” You say out of nowhere, hoping that didn’t come out as weird as you thought.

Changbin nods, “of course, shoot.”

“How many clients do you usually get?”

This question definitely catches him off guard, he’s never really been asked this before and he’s debating on if he should as it might be a breach of privacy.

“I don’t think I can answer that, sorry.” He responds in the nicest way possible, but deep down he wants to know why you’d want to know how many other people he sees a day.

You were going to push him a bit more to try and get an answer but you decide to let it go and just enjoy the rest of the picnic. You didn’t want to bring the mood down with your odd questions and/or end up making him feel so uncomfortable that he won’t want to see you anymore. It was definitely something you shouldn’t have asked but you were curious to know anyway. Overall besides that small incident, you had another wonderful time with Changbin and couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come any faster.

Changbin had a foolproof way of getting you to blush like a giddy high school teen whenever he texted you. He’d always refer to you as ‘pretty girl’ or ‘princess’ which gave you insane amount of butterflies. You loved how clingy he could get and would double text when you don’t reply fast enough, always needing constant attention from you which you never minded giving.

He texted you at around three in the afternoon, proposing his next plan for today’s date.

‘Let’s go out for drinks tonight, it’s all on me ;)’

You liked his message, replying that you’ll be there and put a series of hearts at the end. Speaking of hearts, yours is fluttering at high altitudes from the way you can’t stop thinking about your “boyfriend” Changbin. This has been better than anything you could’ve expected, you never want this week to come to an end. It’s only been three days but you’ve begun to grow feelings for him, they weren’t too strong just yet but they were most definitely there. You couldn’t let that halt you from having a good time tonight, you’ll have to accept it soon enough he’s not your actual boyfriend. He’s doing this because you paid him to, if it wasn’t for your money he wouldn’t be here right now.

‘This relationship is purely transactional’ you unfortunately keep reminding yourself of the reality you’re in. Psyching yourself out of this sudden somber mood that’s consuming you, distracting your pessimism by raiding your closet for some cute clothes to wear tonight’s date. After what seemed like hours of tearing your entire room apart, you decide to settle on this sparkly black mini tube dress, pairing it with a leather jacket and more platform shoes because you’re obsessed with feeling tall. Once it’s 7 PM you head out to the bar you’re seeing Changbin at, he was already waiting for you inside the place. Eyes instantly lighting up when he sees you coming towards him, just like he always does he motions for a hug, pulling you in tightly like he hasn’t seen you in years.

His hugs felt so cozy, like sitting in front of the fireplace on a crisp, snowy winter’s evening. You never wanted to escape the warmth of his arms, it was one of those forms of physical touch that felt so overly personal to you. The thought of him hugging someone the same way he hugs you slightly enrages something in your spirit but again, it isn’t your place to get genuinely upset over him doing his job. You’re not entitled to him exclusively, but you feel like if you keep this up feelings will only continue to develop. This wasn’t something you considered when going into this and now you feel like you’ve just made a huge mistake.

“You okay babe?” Changbin notices you acting a bit strange, choosing not to pursue it after telling him you’re fine. He knows something’s wrong but doesn’t want to mess up the flow of the date, instead he orders a drink for the both of you and switches on to a lighter subject. “Let’s go shopping tomorrow at that new centre that just opened last week. I need to buy some new AirPods, I accidentally lost one of them in a taxi..”

“Sure,” you nod at his suggestion, in desperate need of some new clothes anyway. “Sorry about your AirPods, that sucks!”

He takes a sip of his bubbly drink that’s now on the table, “Eh, it’s okay this is probably the fourth time this has happened so far.” This has pretty much become a regular occurrence for him by now.

As the date progresses, things continue getting better. You’re both laughing, engaging in much deeper conversation than ever before. You definitely had more than enough alcohol in your system by now, feeling congested and claustrophobic as more people came into the bar. Changbin takes note of your discomfort and asks if you want to get some fresh air outside, you wasted absolutely no time to agree.

While you two were outside continuing your chat about some wild conspiracy he read about online, Changbin’s attention was soon drawn to a different building nearby. Gazing up in confusion at his sudden outburst of excitement, you wonder where he could be leading you next.

“Noraebang!” He shouts loud enough anyone miles away could’ve heard that, he’s now grabbing your hand to frantically drag you along with him.

You were never one to carry a tune but Changbin was actually very good at karaoke and singing in general, he had such a lovely voice. You could seriously listen to him sing all night— which you basically did since you kept begging for an encore until it hit 4 am. That’s when you both decided to finally call it a night, you wanted to pay for the Uber since he’s paid for all the drinks and every other expenses for today. You felt bad because you were the one renting him to be your boyfriend yet he’s constantly shelling out money left and right. He still insisted on paying and ultimately won the whole debacle, making you swallow your pride and get into the Uber with him. Changbin’s definitely not just someone you’re going to forget about after this week is over. You dread the day this all comes to an end, wishing there was a way to relive these moments again and again.

“I’m a little under the weather today, sorry I can’t make it Binnie.” Your voice is hoarse from coughing and unbearable throat pain. You’ve already consumed half a bag of cough drops, throat lozenges, and random cold medicine you’ve found in your cabinets.

He sounds mildly disappointed, but springs back up with a new proposal, “I can come over and bring some soup if you’d like!”

You appreciate his gesture but still refuse, you know he’s only saying all this because he has to, not because he wants to. “N-no you don’t have to, I’m sure you can go see other clients today. One less person to worry about right?”

The call went silent for a minute, he wasn’t quite sure how to respond to such a deprecating comment.

“I don’t want to see other clients, I want to see you ___.” He sighs, unwilling to give up so easily, “I’ll be at your place soon, m’kay?” He hangs up before you could even respond or say no again.

You had no choice but to wait for Changbin to show up now. Before you got sick, the last two dates you went on were debatably the best so far. You had gone out shopping together, accidentally wearing almost the same kind of outfit. Changbin was wearing a white graphic tee with blue baggy jeans and you wore something practically identical. The two of you looked like a real, official couple and people would stare as you walked hand in hand, it really did seem like the perfect relationship on the outside.

You got even closer when he came over the following day, resulting in you two cuddling while watching movies and baking cookies. He’s expressed that he’s never been to another client’s home before but it wasn’t “technically” against any rules. The more you kept hanging out together, the harder it was coming to terms with the fact you’re actually falling for Changbin. He made every experience with you more exciting than the last, which he did exactly that night. When the cookies were done you fed a piece to him, making little airplane sounds as you do it, he eagerly takes a bite of the chewy treat and compliments both your efforts.

“These taste way better than I thought, oh my god they literally melt in your mouth. Try it!” He takes another cookie from the tray and feeds it to you this time.

There was something so overly domestic about that moment you couldn’t shake the feelings of wanting to kiss him right then and there. But you can’t. If you did such a thing you’d never be allowed to see him again, plus you don’t want to be known as that one creepy client who just couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. As you were cuddling on the couch though, things may have taken a turn for the better… or worse?

Changbin would “yawn” at the movie and subtly wrap his arm around you, he’d subconsciously pull you in closer and it didn’t make it any better that you were under the same blanket. You weren’t complaining at any of this though, you were pretty much in heaven. It took everything in you not to look up and stare, gluing your eyes to the movie that was displayed on the TV. But as the night progressed you were practically snuggling up with him like he was your real boyfriend. The way he’d run his fingers gently down your back, soothing you in a way that could lull you asleep. His touch was the most relaxing thing ever, you were so calm with him and loved how he brought a side of you that’s never been shown. After this encounter you can no longer deny the way you feel— you are officially falling deeply in love your rental boyfriend, Seo Changbin.

The sound of your doorbell ringing alarms you of a new visitor, who was none other than your “boyfriend” waiting patiently outside the door for you. You feel and look like death itself, coming downstairs to answer the door still in your PJ’s and hair a disheveled mess. Every five seconds was interrupted with you coughing your lungs out, barely able to speak above a whisper. Changbin looks thrilled as ever to see you, even when you clearly don’t look your best he’s still coming up to hug you tightly. His hugs are always blocking off your airways from the way his muscles squeeze you, it’s even worse when you’re sick— practically gasping for air.

“Sorry babyy, I just missed you so much. I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day and soon as you said you’re sick I dropped everything to go make you this soup. It’s a specialty I make whenever my friends are sick, the perfect remedy to cure my princess.” He goes into your kitchen to heat up the soup in your microwave, making you wait patiently on the couch as you’re wrapped up in multiple blankets.

Your body feels like it’s -2 degrees, you were freezing. The crazy thing is your thermostat was set to 80 degrees, it was definitely you that was the problem. He propped your feet up on the table, rested a tray in your lap and set the bowl of soup on top. Brushing a couple strands of hair out your face he looks at you intently, examining your symptoms as if he’s a doctor.

“It’ll be okay soon love, I’m here to nurse you back to health again. Can’t see my pretty baby sick like this, makes me all sad.” He pouts, giving you a soft head pat like you’re a delicate kitten.

He takes a spoonful of the hot soup, slightly blowing on it before telling you to open up so you can eat. You don’t know what’s gotten into you but you feel like he’s gone too far with all this. It’s not fair for you to continue on if it’s just become torture now. He’s practically dangling in your face that you’ll never have a partner as perfect as him in your life.

“I- I can’t do this anymore Changbin..” you say lowly, refusing to eat the soup he made.

“What do you mean? I’m just feeding you soup, it’s my duty as your boyfriend to-”

“This isn’t real… none of it is. I’m stupid for even doing this but I was lonely.. I’m sorry but I’d prefer something that isn’t temporary.” You cut him off to express your pent up frustrations, ready to be let down and rejected by him as gently as possible.

“Then let’s make it real,” he proposes without any hesitation, “honestly I stopped faking it around our third date, it was all me after that. I never said anything because well… this is my job and I’ve never fallen for a client before so this is still all very new to me..”

You’d be screaming right now if you weren’t sick, instead you’re internally freaking out at this confession, it feels like your hearts doing cartwheels and somersaults.

“Seriously?” Eyes widening as you look at him, suddenly your body heat rises and you know it’s not because of the soup or the layers of blankets that’s covering you.

He nods, “I thought it was kinda obvious when we kissed yesterday..”

Oh yeah… you forgot that did happen. You thought it was another fever dream you might’ve just made up in your head. You shared your first kiss with someone you deemed so special and important to you, someone you never would’ve guessed could come into your life and shift the entirety of your world like magic. There was no one else in existence you wanted more than Changbin.

“Doesn’t that mean you’ll have to quit your job? I don’t want to be the reason you stop making such good income.. I’ll feel so bad.” You knew deep down you didn’t feel that badly about him quitting to date you instead. It was just the thought of him leaving something he’s been doing for years behind all for some girl he’s known for simply a week.

He shrugs at your comment, “I’ll be just fine, I was planning on finding a new job soon anyway. It gets kinda old after a while, I felt like I was on autopilot most of the time. You were able to get me to open up and show my true self, I could never thank you enough for that ___.” Changbin couldn’t resist the urge to plant a kiss to your forehead.

After everything that’s been said and done. What you’ve come to understand is that love is learned, a development that takes time to grow and blossom into something extraordinary. Just like learning a new language or a musical instrument, we learn love from society and cultures we’re raised in, it’s a beautiful thing once we know how to cherish it. Your newfound romance with Changbin is something you’ll learn to cherish forever and ever.

[End <3].

[wholoveseggs]

Also I need a major size difference one shot. I’m talking princess treatment, belly bulging, Elijah just being able to pick up the reader like it’s nothing. Maybe standing sex

Princess

... BRB DROOLING

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You and Elijah have a night of kinky fun.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @elijahmikaelsonsboy !! & anon(s) - this is the wildest thing I've written (except maybe any of my poly works) - this also goes out to the anon who asked for spanking! I see you and I appreciate you! enjoy ♡♡

5.1k words - Warnings: this is pure 100% pulp free smut, dom!elijah, sub!reader, size!kink, daddy!kink, choking, some serious spanking, lots of praise & a little punishment, tinsy bit of bdsm, ice play, oral sex, face fucking, squirting... Elijah being sweetheart even while being dom ♡

"Eli- I don't know," you whispered as his large hands gripped your waist tightly, keeping you underneath him. He was so big and broad that when he held you, there was no way you could squirm out from under him, even if you wanted to.

"What's wrong?" his warm breath fanned across the nape of your neck, eliciting goosebumps in their wake. He slowly pulled off the delicate bra you had put on that morning, exposing you completely for him. He loved it when you were bare underneath him; all shy and submissive.

You gave him a nervous look, all wide eyed and fidgety. "My-" you cut yourself off and your cheeks blushed in a fiery red blush. He took your hand and gave it a squeeze, encouraging you to speak. He knew how hard it was to sometimes get a sentence out. You were so shy and sweet, new to the whole submission thing. But Elijah, the softie that he was, loved to shower you with so much attention and care. So he kissed along your collarbone and rubbed along your sides, making you giggle shyly.

"It's okay, princess," his voice cooed along your sensitive skin, the pet name doing wonders in giving you an extra bit of encouragement. "I just wanna know what you're worried about."

You pushed down the urge to bury your face in his neck to avoid the topic completely and spoke up a little more confidently. "Your um... you're really..." you sighed in mild frustration at how bad you were at this whole talking thing. The fact that his intense eyes were watching your every move didn't help you either. But, with a soft, warm hand placed at your thigh, he helped ground you again, calming your mind enough to actually talk.

"You're just... so big... a-and I-" his eyes widened at what you were implying. This would definitely be fun. 

"Is my love worried I'll be too much for you?" he questioned as his fingers grazed against your wet panties. "Hmm? My fingers are a lot thicker than yours, baby."

You whined as his fingertips rubbed back and forth so gently along the material. It wasn't nearly enough friction to get you off. "Yeah," your chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. "You're the biggest I've ever had."

He leaned closer, his fingers moving the flimsy material aside. "Are you afraid I'll be too rough? Or hurt you?" His voice was so low and hot against you that the small vibrations of his deep voice were enough to make you arch against him. But Elijah kept your back against the bed, trapping you so you wouldn't wiggle too much.

"Just a little," you confessed. You're never had rough, really kinky sex. So it was a pretty big jump.

"If it gets too much, just say stop." His smile was warm and kind, giving you all of the comfort in the world. It's not like you didn't trust him completely and fully, you were just nervous about having his entire cock in your tiny little pussy.

You gave him a timid little nod, urging him to keep going. Your chest felt light and fluttery, and the dull throb in between your legs was getting stronger.

"I'm going to take my time, just for you," he peppered warm, soft kisses along your tummy, stopping at the waistband of the thin, silky thong you decided to wear just for the occasion. "No rush whatsoever. This is all for you and no one else.” 

He slowly stripped your bottoms off until there was nothing left to take off. Then he pulled back and stood up, you reached out towards him but he only smiled reassuringly.

 "Be right back, keep your legs open," his demand was quiet but very effective as you obediently spread them apart so he could have a full view of what belongs to him and only him.

Once he left his bedroom, you began to relax once more, trusting Elijah to take care of you. He wouldn't dare leave you unsatisfied; and if something got too much, he would know, even when he was giving you commands.

You laid still, wondering what was taking him so long until your head picked up once more at the sound of the door opening and closing. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip when his form reappeared, holding something in his right hand. 

A bowl of ice.

"Eli?"

"Yes, angel?"

His endearing nickname made your chest tighten with so much warmth. It also brought another kind of heat to the space right in between your thighs.

"Ice?"

Elijah kneeled, one hand caressing your right thigh as the other grabbed a cube and began to slowly roll it along your navel, eliciting shivers to travel across your back at the cold sensation. He simply smiled and continued to let the freezing cube trace along your stomach, enjoying every movement that made you squeak and twitch.

He put it back in the bowl and slowly pulled off his tie, looking as breathtakingly attractive as ever. You knew what this meant and you immediately put your wrists above your head, grinning up at this beautiful man you were so lucky to call yours.

Once he had tied your wrists and made sure they weren't too tight and you weren't uncomfortable at all, his thumb brushed along your lower lip. His touch was warm and careful, the way you liked it the best.

"Look at you," he sounded absolutely entranced by you; eyes gazing all over your form. The bed dipped a bit under his weight as he rested over you once more, his body casting a shadow that almost covered all the light. "So gorgeous... so amazing," his praises filled your head with pure honey, turning everything warm and lovely.

"Keep your eyes closed," he pressed an ice cube along your breasts, leaving a burning trail behind it. You whimpered and shuddered as the cold made goosebumps rise on your body and caused your nipples to pucker into little, sensitive buds. It was quickly warmed by his mouth, but the sensation still shocked you, causing a rush of pleasure to flood between your thighs.

The ice was melting with all of the body heat. Droplets of melted water rolled down along your sides and soaked into the blankets beneath your naked body. More water dripped right down the center of your neck, his lips trailing after it and slowly lapped at your skin. His lips were warm, soothing the sharp sting from the frozen cube.

You struggled in your restraints, the sensations a little overwhelming and just- so damn good. You had never been teased and played with like this before, it made you feel a sort of freedom that you had no idea you were missing. You wanted him so badly that it made your legs tremble. And the fact that your eyes were closed just heightened everything else. You could feel him smiling against your skin, loving how responsive your body was to his touches.

The hand not holding the melting piece of ice traced along your right side, skimming down the curves of your body until it reached your lower stomach. Making you squirm a little at how ticklish your lower stomach was.

The ice cube rested above the apex of your thighs, the water dripping down your pussy lips until it touched along the entrance of your slit.

"Eli," you whispered, trying to keep your eyes closed just like he asked you to. It was so tempting to open them, to see him looming over you while using the freezing ice cube against your burning and needy body. "Please... stop teasing.."

He seemed satisfied at the desperation lacing your sweet voice, chucking the ice back into the bowl so he could move on to the next phase.

"Look at me," the deepness of his voice snapped your eyes open and you could hardly breathe at the raw desire swirling in his dark eyes. They looked absolutely glazed over with want, yet still maintaining their sharp edges.  

"Eyes on me the entire time," he whispered, his middle finger eased into you, not stopping until he was completely buried in your heat. You pulled on your restraints, wanting to wrap your arms around his shoulders but he tied them well, just how he likes them.

He chuckled at your struggle, moving his fingers agonizingly slow in and out of you. "Something tells me that if I untied your wrists right now," he continued to pump them in and out, watching intently at how you couldn't stop your tiny cries from escaping. It was clear that he was driving you crazy, you couldn't hide the trembles or the tugs at his restraints. "You would reach down and start touching yourself... would you like that?"

Your face turned so hot it made you feel dizzy. Your legs bent up, feet planted on the mattress, he didn't like that, forcefully spreading them wider apart, his eyes stern. "Would you?"

"Y- yes-"

"Hmmm?"

"Yes... daddy," the last part was said just above a whisper, your words coming out a bit fast and shyly. It made you so embarrassed how much the name excited you. It didn't help that it fit Elijah so well, he was always taking care of everyone else that it made sense for you to give him the title.

He reached up and untied your restraints, eyes intently watching as you reached right in between your thighs. "Good girl... keep those legs open,"

You rubbed your clit slowly, your eyes locked on his the entire time. Your fingers moved quicker as your hips ground in little circles, desperate for some sort of relief. He hummed in approval, adding a second finger that stretched you wonderfully.

"Such a dirty little princess aren't you?" his palm curled upwards against that spongy spot inside you as he spoke, causing you to shake so hard you almost forgot his question.

His eyebrows arched, mirroring your expressions as your eyes went unfocused. You tried to form coherent words but it was hard when the only thoughts going through your mind was how damn good his fingers felt, so much bigger than your own.

"Answer my question,"

You swallowed past the lump in your throat and shook your head. "I'm only dirty when it comes to you,"

Your heart almost swelled right out of your chest at the blissful smile he gave, he leaned down and kissed all along your cheek and neck, whispering just how proud of you he was. His words pushed you a little bit over the edge, making your walls clench desperately around him, not wanting the pleasure to fade away.

"That's it, cum on my fingers," he growled against the shell of your ear, biting softly.

His voice was so primal that you couldn't do anything but obey, falling completely into his world while the heat in your tummy erupted like a bomb, pleasure tearing through your muscles, and you saw bursts of white across your eyelids.

"That's it," he cooed as you continued to moan, his fingers gently working you down from the high. "There's my sweet girl,"

His lips met yours and you immediately pulled him closer, his body blanketing you comfortably as he kissed you like a starving man. His hands gripped your waist, holding you still while his hips rubbed his hard bulge right against your wet slit. You whined into his mouth, feeling his erection slide back and forth, rubbing against your clit.

He pushed your thighs a little wider, pulling his lips away from yours so he could lean over you. His forehead rested against yours, both of you trying to catch your breaths. He continued to grind against you, his eyes closing and jaw clenching as he groaned, his sounds deep and rough. You could tell he was holding himself back, trying to be as gentle as possible, but you were so turned on, you just wanted him to unleash himself on you.

"Daddy," your small hands tugged on his hair, making his hips stutter a little bit. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, lips brushing his ear. "Fuck me."

He growled at your words, the vibrations from his chest traveling through his body. He wasn't the kind of man that needed to be told twice. His hands hooked underneath your knees, pushing them up and out as far as they could go.

"Keep them open," he commanded, pulling back just a little to unbutton his shirt. He slipped it off his shoulders and undid his belt, his eyes never leaving yours. You bit your lip, subconsciously rubbing your thighs together in anticipation.

He raised his eyebrows, giving you a disapproving shake of his head.

You giggled, but did as he said and opened them, keeping them as wide apart as you could.

His eyes softened just a little, his fingertips trailing up and down your soft skin. His other hand undoing his belt, slowly pulling his pants down along with his briefs, letting his thick cock spring out and brush against the smooth skin of your tummy.

"You've been so good," he praised, lining himself up with your entrance. He slowly rubbed his head in a circle along your slit, gathering your wetness. 

He kept his eyes locked with yours as his hands slid down, holding your hips steady. You were already starting to feel a little nervous, he was definitely the biggest you've ever had. He eased in slowly, his breath hitching as he felt just how tight you were.

Your heels dug into the sheets, your hands scrambling for something to hold on to. Your body instinctively tried to pull away but he held you down, keeping you firmly in place. He pushed deeper, groaning lowly at the feeling of you surrounding him.

"Daddy-" your voice cracked, your legs closing automatically, the sensation almost too much for you to take. But Elijah held you tightly in place, leaning down so he could whisper into your ear.

"Relax," he kissed right underneath the shell of your ear. His soft lips felt good against your heated skin. "Don't fight it."

Your toes curled and your fingers clenched, but you managed to take a few deep breaths. Once he was completely sheathed, you felt so full it was a little hard to breathe.

"So damn tight," he groaned, his grip on your thighs bruising, his eyes locked on the sight of your stomach bulging slightly with the girth of his cock.

"You fit me so perfectly, baby girl," his hand running over the bulge, his words making you blush so deeply. "It's like you were made for me,"

His hips pulled back before snapping forward again, making you cry out and dig your hands into his strong shoulders. His pace was slow and deep, letting you feel every inch of him, the stretch of his cock was addicting.

His hands ran all over your body, caressing your sides, kneading your breasts, tracing along the column of your neck, just touching and exploring every inch of you. You barely registered these touches, so distracted by the pleasure between your legs.

"God- you're so big," you panted out, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

"You like it don't you? Being split open by me?"

His hand wrapped around your throat, not choking, just applying enough pressure to make your head spin.

You swallowed against his hand, finding it hard to even form any sentences at the moment. Your eyes rolled back into your head, your legs spreading as far as they could, wanting to feel him even deeper.

"Say it," his hips snapped harder, making a strangled noise rip from your throat. His grip tightened a bit more, causing everything to feel even sharper.

"I love it Elijah," you whimpered, your eyes rolling back. "Fuck-"

Your body felt like it was floating, his hands the only thing grounding you. He could tell you were close, your little body shaking underneath him and your whimpers getting louder and higher in pitch. You were such a vision. So beautiful. But he didn't want this to end so quickly, not when he had waited so long to have you like this.

"Cumming already?" his hips slowed, making you groan and claw at his forearms. You could tell he was close to, the restraint in his tone was a dead giveaway.

You shook your head, clearly lying, and his expression hardened a little. His hips were torturously slow, his fingers tracing along the side of your neck.

"Liars get punished," his thumb and forefinger pinched your chin, his eyes dark and intense. "Do you understand?"

His hips stilled and he pulled out, his hardness laying heavily against your lower stomach.

"Y- yes," you stuttered, your entire body buzzing with the need for release. Your pussy felt so empty, clenching around nothing.

He stood, pulling his pants back up, making sure to not be too obvious about the large bulge pressing against the front of his pants.

"Up." he held out his hand, waiting patiently for you to gather the strength to move.

The moment you sat up he grabbed your hair, yanking you up until you were standing. You stumbled forward, he pulled your face to his, his breath ghosting across your lips.

"On your knees,"

You didn't even hesitate to sink down, his hand guiding you to where he wanted. The hardwood floor was a little uncomfortable, but the way Elijah was looking at you, it made everything worth it.

You opened your mouth, your tongue lolling out, just waiting for him. He smiled, running his thumb along your lower lip.

"That's a good girl," he murmured, his voice rough and deep, filled with pure lust. His cock was shiny with your slick, a small drop of precum leaking from the tip. You couldn't help but lick it off, tasting yourself on him. He groaned, his grip tightening a bit.

"Open wide,"

You did as he said, looking up at him with innocent eyes, the sight made him growl, his cock twitching right in front of your lips. You smiled and opened your mouth, his hands resting on top of your head as his hips jerked forward, sliding into your mouth.

You loved when he fucked your mouth, feeling him lose control like this, it was so sexy. Your eyes were watering, a tear falling down your cheek as he hit the back of your throat. He wiped it away, still the gentleman even in the most carnal of moments.

You relaxed your jaw and bobbed your head, trying to fit as much of his thick length as possible, but failing a bit, gagging slightly. He groaned loudly and pulled you off of him by your hair, the sting making your head swim with need.

"You can do better than that," his tone was playful and teasing, making you blush deeply. He was so big, his girth was almost intimidating, you could hardly fit him in your mouth. But his tone made you try harder, opening wider and swallowing down, the taste of him making your thighs clench together.

His grip was bruising, holding you in place while his hips rocked back and forth, using your mouth and throat for his own pleasure.

His eyes were hooded and his breathing was uneven, but he was still composed. That's what you admired about him, no matter the situation, he was always calm and in control.

He was Elijah Mikaelson after all, and you were just a little human, yet you held so much power over him. It was thrilling. You wanted to see how far you could push him, to see just how deep his possessive side really ran. Just a tiny bit. You wanted to see what it would take to make him crumble.

"What a perfect princess you are,"

Your eyes snapped back to him and you smiled a little, the corners of your mouth turning upwards around his cock. Your tongue pressed flat against the underside, your head starting to move a little faster, taking him a little deeper each time.

You were being so good, doing everything he asked, and it was turning him on to no end. You could tell from the way his jaw was clenching and the little noises coming from the back of his throat. The way his eyes couldn't look away from your lips, his hand holding you in place.

He was starting to get a little rough, his hips rocking in and out, making your eyes water again. He groaned as his cock slid to the back of your throat, his other hand joining the one already tangled in your hair, both holding you still as he thrust deeper. Your tongue flattened against his shaft and he started to fuck your mouth with earnest.

His grip on your hair turned painful and your nose was pressed into his dark curls. Your eyes began to water as you gagged, the head of his cock buried deep in the back of your throat.

He didn't let you pull off until he felt you really struggling, letting you catch your breath before pushing you down again. He was a little rougher, his hips giving short and hard thrusts.

"You're doing so well," he sounded a bit wrecked, his breathing uneven and his voice deeper. His hips were moving a little faster, chasing his own high.

"Just like that,"

You moaned around him, his hips starting to shake a little, and that's when you decided to act, you wanted to make him cum.

You reached behind him, grabbing his ass to pull him impossibly close, taking him to the back of your throat the final few times. The sudden action startled him a little and his self control slipped. Your name was choked out from deep in his chest. The sound sent a hot spike straight to your core, the primal desperation in his tone made your heart race.

The noise went straight through him, his self control shattering like glass, his grip tightening around your skull. You couldn't breathe, couldn't pull away, so you took him down as deep as you could, feeling his release shoot straight down your throat.

His body was shaking, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his breathing was uneven, but it didn't last long. He looked down at you with a stern expression.

"Did I say you could do that?"

He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him, his thumb brushing against your lips. "No... I didn't."

You couldn't help the smile that crept up, his eyes were practically black with lust. He was surely going to punish you now.

"On the bed." he growled.

You didn't waste any time, hopping onto the plush comforter, kneeling in the middle and waiting for his next command.

He grabbed his belt from the floor, slowly walking towards the bed, his eyes locked on yours.

"Turn around and bend over,"

He watched intently, his belt folded over in his hands.

Your cheeks flushed as you moved to get on all fours, arching your back a little, swaying your hips a bit, showing off your curves.

You glanced over your shoulder, making sure he was watching, and the sight made you whimper. His eyes were hooded and his bottom lip was caught between his teeth, the belt was held tightly in his fist, a little vein protruding from his hand.

"Eyes front." he snapped, the sound of the leather sliding against itself made your heart race.

The anticipation was almost too much. You had never done this before, had no idea how it would feel, but you were aching to find out.

"How many do you think you deserve?" his hand ran along the curve of your spine, his touch light and warm, making you shiver.

"F-four?" you questioned, your voice was soft and hesitant, you could practically hear him smile.

"I'll give you eight, and you're going to count each one."

His hand smoothed over your backside, squeezing and rubbing softly. You could feel his cock resting on the curve of your ass, heavy and thick, already half hard again.

He raised his arm, the belt folded in his hand. The anticipation was killing you. You could barely breathe.

His hand caressed the swell of your ass one last time before raising the belt, a sharp crack rang throughout the room. You cried out, your body jerking forward, the pain seared right across the soft skin.

"Count." He snapped, his tone sharp and impatient.

"O-one."

Another hit.

"Two,"

A third.

"Three."

By the fourth hit, you were shaking, gripping the sheets to keep yourself grounded, but his next hit almost knocked you over.

"Four!" you squeaked out, your voice cracking as tears stung the corners of your eyes.

"I'm not even using my full strength," he sounded amused, his tone gentle and soft. His full strength would probably send you flying into the next room and you giggled at the thought.

"Don't laugh." he scolded, the belt slapping down on your skin, the sting even sharper.

"F-five!"

Another hard hit and you were whimpering, but you still tried to be as good as possible.

"S-six."

You could feel yourself growing wetter, the pain was so sharp, so searing, it almost felt like it was turning into pleasure.

"Seven!" you cried, burying your face in the sheets, the pain was starting to blur.

The belt came down one last time, leaving a dark red line right across the backs of your thighs.

"Eight," you sobbed, your entire body shaking.

"You did so well." He cooed, his fingers running along the welts, soothing the ache. "I knew you would."

You were trembling, his fingers dipping between your legs, gathering the slick that had collected on the inside of your thighs.

"So wet." he sounded amused. "You like being my little slut, don't you?"

You whimpered, unable to answer. His finger was circling your clit, sending hot sparks through your veins.

"Tell me," his hand landed on your ass again, the sting even sharper. "Tell me you like being my little slut."

You gasped, your body writhing. "Y-yes daddy, I love being your little slut,"

He chuckled, his other hand running along the curve of your spine, his fingers tangling in your hair again, pulling you towards him so your back was arched.

"That's what I thought," he let go of your hair and turned you around, scooping you up into his arms.

You gasped and wrapped your arms around his neck, a little surprised by the sudden change. Your legs wrapped around his waist, his hands gripping your ass tightly, his lips pressing against the soft skin of your neck.

You could feel his hardness pressing into you, and your legs clenched around his hips. You could feel every muscle shifting underneath his skin, his strength and power was thrilling. He was one of the most powerful creatures in the world and here he was, holding you so gently.

You kissed him softly, running your fingers through his dark hair, his stubble scratching against your skin. He lowered you down onto his cock, your nails digging into his shoulders, letting him swallow up your gasps and moans.

His pace was slow and deep, savoring the moment, letting you feel every inch. His strong hands supported you, making sure you didn't fall, lifting you up and down his length.

You were a mess. Whimpering and clinging to him, so desperate for release. He was using you just how he wanted, holding you tight and fucking you hard. You were both so close, so on edge, his pace started to falter and his breath was becoming more uneven.

"Eli," you gasped, burying your head in the crook of his neck, your hands in his hair, his arms tight around your waist.

He pressed you back down into the bed, his hands intertwining with yours, pinning them above your head. His hips snapped forward, and his pace became brutal, pounding into you hard and fast, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your legs shook around his hips, you couldn't stop the whimpers and cries from pouring out of you. His forehead was pressed against yours, his eyes closed and his brow furrowed.

Your back arched off the bed, your legs trembling uncontrollably. Your orgasm came crashing down, making you cry out, your pussy gushing and clenching so tightly  that it pushed his cock out. He groaned at the sight, spilling his release all over your pussy and stomach, watching in awe as your walls clenched around nothing, soaking the sheets.

Your body went limp, your eyes fluttering closed, your breathing labored and uneven. You were exhausted, sore and spent.

He leaned down and kissed you, so sweet and gentle, his hands cupping your cheeks.

"Are you okay? Was I too rough?" he looked a bit worried, his thumb brushing along your cheek.

You giggled and nodded. "I'm fine, more than fine." you leaned into his touch, pressing your lips to his palm. "That was perfect."

"Good," he sighed, a smile spreading across his lips. "You did so well,"

"Thank you,"

"Do you need anything? A drink or-"

"I'm fine Elijah," you cut him off, giggling again. He was so sweet, so considerate. "I promise."

He smiled, leaning down to kiss you again, his hand cupping your jaw. "Let me clean you up,"

"Okay," you whispered, a content sigh escaping your lips. He pulled back, his hand smoothing across your forehead, moving the stray hairs from your face.

"Stay here,"

You nodded and relaxed into the bed, your limbs like jelly, your eyelids starting to droop.

By the time he returned you had fallen asleep, curled up in a ball, snoring softly. He smiled and gently cleaned you off, pulling the blankets over you, watching for a few minutes, admiring the way your chest rose and fell with each breath.

 He kissed your forehead softly, "Goodnight princess, you were perfect.”

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[sprytesukii]

you know me (better than i know myself)

bakugou katsuki x reader

katsuki is hopelessly in love with his best friend until you waltz into his life and warp it beyond his recognition.

rating: mature, 18+, MDNI

wc : 10.4k (holy fuck)

tags : mild to heavy angst, fluff, eventual smut, hurt/comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), afab!reader, unrequited love (not between reader and kats), depictions of mild depression, genderfluid!denki, queer!katsuki, reader has a quirk, oral (reader receiving), p-in-v intercourse, unprotected intercourse (wrap it b4 u tap it pls!), soft katsuki, and they were roommates :0, Not Beta Read, i think that’s it T^T

an: this is the first thing i’ve genuinely written in over a year and jesus it was like i was possessed writing it LMFAO incredibly self indulgent and i had a lot of fun writing it! i hope you guys enjoy it (pls rb n leave feedback pls pls pls)

read on ao3

the warm light of the coffee table lamp casts a beautiful shadow across the planes of eijirou’s face — his sharp, angular nose, smooth cheekbones, plush lips that form a sheepish smile — and katsuki can’t even appreciate it, not with the absolute bullshit that pours from his best friend’s lips.

“the fuck you mean, you’re moving out?”

the words come out a lot harsher than katsuki intends, but he can’t even bring himself to feel guilty, not even when kiri’s face screws up in clear disappointment.

“well, uh, i told you, this new place is closer to my agency so it makes more sense. the commute’ll be much shorter and, uh…” he trails off then, a pretty pink blush spreading across his nose, highlighting the small spattering of freckles that katsuki is certain he’s the only one who’s ever noticed, a broiling heat setting alight in his stomach.

he feels like he might die.

“and.. kaito finally asked me to move in with him.”

there it is. fuckin’ kaito.

katsuki is far from an idiot — people call him a lot of names (brash, inconsiderate, a righteous asshole), but never dumb. they couldn’t unless they were outright lying.

part of what makes katsuki so intelligent is his observance.

of course he’s noticed eijirou’s late nights, his suspicious absences at group get togethers, the sweet smiles he makes as he taps at his phone screen, the fucking hickies.

bakugou katsuki is not stupid. he’s incredibly observant. especially when it comes to the massive crush he’s been harboring on his best friend for the last three years.

he’s not entirely sure when his reluctant tolerance of the bright redhead shifted to something more but he knows he’s been viciously, painfully pining over him day in and day out in the weeks (months, years) since.

and it’s not like kirishima hasn’t had partners before. he’s nearly impossible to resist with his intense attentiveness, his willingness to go above and beyond for those close to him, not to mention his insane physique, built from long hours out on the field and in the gym.

it’s no wonder katsuki has been in love with him for as long as he has been — eijirou is perfect.

perfectly imperfect, of course. he gets upset when katsuki sorts his clothes for him (“i’m an adult, okay? it makes me feel like you’re parenting me, man.”) or when he lectures him on his diet, or when he shuts him out after being friends for so long (when his feelings become too much to handle), but eijirou’s the only one who’s stayed.

katsuki has tried flings and a few more serious relationships but those have ended quickly because he’s just too much.

too loud. too frustrating. too closed off. too him.

but not for eijirou. never for eijirou.

that’s why when kiri mentioned he was talking to this new guy, he brushed it off. it would be like all the others who would eventually break it off because of the long hours at work or eijirou’s boundless enthusiasm and katsuki would be there to pick the sopping wet, heartbroken kiri off the ground and put him back together. they didn’t deserve him anyway.

but this kaito? apparently katsuki’s eagerness to ignore eijirou’s flings made him blind to what was happening — eiji wasn’t his anymore.

he’s moving out.

he’ll be gone forever.

subconsciously, katsuki realizes he’s been silent for far too long and that eijirou’s face has lost the hurt and is now painted with concern and confusion.

fuck, even now, he’s concerned. he cares so so much, except in the way katsuki craves.

“uh,” kirishima’s gentle voice breaks him from his thoughts, a big hand finding its way to katsuki’s knee, “are you okay dude?”

the touch sears through the expensive black joggers katsuki is wearing and he flinches so hard, he jostles the coffee table to his side. he barely sees kirishima’s brows furrow as he launches himself to standing, the telltale burn behind his eyes signaling the incoming wave of tears.

he can’t see katsuki like this, he fucking can’t.

katsuki marches to the kitchen, opening up the fridge and blankly staring into it while he tries to will the water back into his face and still the turmoil burning in his chest.

it feels like he’s aflame, like he’s suffocating, drowning.

he can hear kirishima’s steps behind him but thankfully stopping a reasonable distance away as he calls his name again, desperation coloring the word.

fuck.

with everything he has in him, katsuki grabs a random bottle from the refrigerator (a smoothie eijirou made for him with far too much kale and too little milk and a little note attached with his name and a smiley face. he’s gonna be sick.) and turns to face him, a strained, shaky grimace painting his lips.

“that’s-“ his voice cracks hard and he desperately clears his throat, blinking hard when he sees eijirou reach out for him and stop. “that’s fuckin’— that’s great. ‘m happy for you.”

the words feel like glass inching their way out of his throat and while he knows he sounds anything but, the words seem to do the trick, kirishima’s face lighting up like a fucking christmas tree.

“that means so much to me, man!” this time, he doesn’t stop himself from wrapping katsuki up in a hug, the full body contact sending a wracking shiver through his body. “and don’t worry! we’ll still hang out all the time and i’ll — yes! — finally be able to introduce you to kaito — you’re gonna love him, and-“

katsuki has to tune him out, if just to keep a hold on his sanity because otherwise, he’s gonna break.

he keeps it together through the rest of the conversation about kaito, tuning in only to give time appropriate grunts and hums while pretending like his entire world isn’t imploding in on itself.

he keeps it together, miraculously, as kirishima packs up his things, the evidence of their entwined lives for the past five years disappearing into cardboard boxes over the span of a few weeks.

he even keeps it together when he meets kaito on the move out date, even if it’s just barely. kaito is handsome — tall, taller than katsuki, with windswept brown hair, bright brown eyes and a dimple in his left cheek. if he wasn’t so fucking in love with eiji, he wouldn’t mind taking a piece out of him, but as it were, the sight of kaito makes him genuinely sick to his stomach.

it’s even worse that kaito is so nice. his quirk is even nicer — some nature type that makes it impossible for plants to die when touched by him. they turn to him like he’s the fucking sun and eiji does too.

by the time all kirishima’s stuff is packed up in the back of kaito’s truck, bile is burning at the back of katsuki’s throat as he says his final goodbye to kiri in the way of a bone crushing hug that doesn’t last as long as he wishes, as he craves.

kiri sends him a blinding smile as he climbs into the passenger seat of the truck, looking all too at home against the worn blue leather seats.

it’s now when katsuki wishes he was a little less observant because the hand kaito gently places on kirishima’s thigh and the subsequent full body blush makes him sick.

he waits on the curb the appropriate amount of time as the pair drive away before racing back into his building, up the stairs, into his unit and straight to the bathroom, kneeling over the toilet and heaving, chills wracking his body despite the sweat on his brow.

nothing comes out (praise whoever above because katsuki hates vomiting) and he slumps against the porcelain, resting his heated skin against the toilet seat.

he thought… fuck, katsuki has no idea what he thought, but he didn’t expect it to hurt this bad. he feels a little like he’s dying and lot like he’ll never be okay again. that kirishima walked out with his heart and all he’ll be for the rest of his life is a walking husk of a human being.

a wave of nausea overtakes him again and he debates leaning back over the toilet, but exhaustion overwhelms him and he falls asleep against the wall of his bathroom, sweaty, sick, and heartbroken.

(the next morning, he wakes up to a pounding headache and two texts from eijirou.

he drinks a shit ton of water first and pops an advil before opening the messages.

EIJI (18:21) : just got to kaito’s! dude it’s so nice i can’t believe ill be living here now ><

katsuki has to take a deep breath to fight against the wave of pain that hits him right in the gut, but he keeps reading, the second text simultaneously warming him and twisting the knife.

EIJI (18:25) : i’m gonna miss you so much kats T^T so weird living without you

he stares at the message until his vision swims before liking the second message and turning off his phone, tossing it onto the couch and trudging to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.)

the next few weeks prove to be incredibly difficult.

a new case is brought to best jeanist’s desk and as the best sidekick at the agency, he’s placed in charge of heading the search and capture of an elusive invisibility quirk villain.

the days are long and exhausting, and more often than not, he doesn’t even have time to miss kirishima or notice his things missing from the apartment — he gets home, makes a barebones meal and collapses on the couch for what feels like a four hour nap until he has to turn back around and do it all over again.

it’s sustainable until it isn’t.

a few too many missed meals and restless hours of sleep has him passing out in a morning briefing, prompting best jeanist to send him home for a mandatory two week “vacation.”

it’s a prison sentence, is what it is.

at home, there’s nothing to distract him from the utter lack of kirishima, from the idea that the one person who has seen all of him and loved him anyway has left.

most days it’s too much to bear, so instead, he sleeps.

the usual tidiness of his space slowly deteriorates as he wastes away, waking only to scarf down whatever is left in his refrigerator before going right back to bed.

his friends text him often — hanta, denki, even fuckin’ hitoshi — but he ignores them all. the texts from kirishima are the hardest to delete, all concerned words and pleas for them to just talk, but he does it anyway.

it’s better this way, he tells himself. this way, no one else is dragged down by his self pity.

izuku ends up being the one to break the streak on day nine of radio silence.

a knock resounds at his door and he ignores it, pulling his blankets high above his mussed blonde hair, effectively hiding him from view as he hopes whoever is there spontaneously combusts or, better yet, just leaves.

when the knocks stop, he believes the latter has just occurred and he sighs in relief, completely missing the sound of metal creaking and his doorknob falling to the ground.

he’s debating on taking another melatonin to find the sweet release of sleep once more when his bedroom door opens up and he startles, launching up out of bed, hands and quirk at the ready to destroy the intruder, but he’s slow, too slow.

izuku is on him in a moment, pinning him to the bed and disregarding his gnashing teeth and cursing to look him over with a detached gaze.

“katsuki,” he says, voice firm in effectively shutting him up, despite the way he wriggles for freedom (so ineffectively, it’s embarrassing), “you look like dogshit.”

a harsh bark of laughter escapes katsuki’s throat and even from his angle where he’s pressed into his pillows, he sees izuku’s expression soften.

“you’ve lost your tact, deku,” he responds, his words gravelly from disuse. izuku scoffs but lets him up, taking a step over a pile of clothes on the ground to lean against the desk opposite of the bed.

with his newfound freedom, katsuki sits up, absentmindedly rubbing his now sore shoulder, the pain oddly grounding. izuku watches the motion with the intense focus he’s carried throughout his entire life, though he’s a far cry from the boy who used to break his bones and cry over injured birds.

now, he’s built like a brick house, forest green curls tapered into a flattering modern undercut, the fat from his cheeks transforming into something more chiseled and adult. his eyes aren’t as soft either — they’re tired and, as he looks at katsuki’s form, tinged with worry.

“where have you been? no one has heard from you in a week.”

katsuki rolls his eyes, looking away from the gaze that pins him, the gaze he tried so hard to get to look at him without fear. there isn’t a hint of fear in them now, but katsuki is afraid there’ll be disappointment and that’s almost worse.

“none of your fuckin’ business,” he grunts out and he immediately knows it was the wrong response. besides eijirou, izuku knows him the best and after all they’ve been through, he doesn’t deserve this.

he never deserved any of it.

with that thought spinning around in his head, katsuki rubs a hand over his face with a quiet curse, leaning back against the headboard.

“fuck, i’m sorry,” it comes out as a mutter, but its effect on izuku is instantaneous. the previous hardness of his expression melts and he moves closer, his bushy brows furrowing together. katsuki can barely look at him but he does anyway, he makes himself. izuku deserves that much (he deserves so much more but one day at a time).

“we’re just worried about you,” izuku says quietly but without pity. never pity. “what’s going on?”

maybe it’s the way izuku’s freckled face reminds him far too much of eijirou’s own spattering of constellations or maybe it’s the fact katsuki hasn’t eaten in over fifteen hours, but he shatters in that moment, crystal tears filling up carmine eyes.

if izuku is startled at katsuki’s sudden change of emotions, he doesn’t show it, instead moving to envelop katsuki in his arms, allowing him to bury his face in the crook of his shoulder and let go.

katsuki tells him everything and by the end of it, his head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and his eyes are puffy and red, but he feels better than he did all week.

izuku just looks thoughtful from his place sitting near the end of katsuki’s bed, the pair parting somewhere in between katsuki’s admission of throwing up when seeing kaito and kirishima together and his accidental confession of stealing one of eijirou’s hoodies from one of the boxes (it sits right under his pillow, but izuku doesn’t need to know that).

“i’m really sorry, katsuki. that fucking sucks,” izuku ends up saying and katsuki’s initial reaction is anger. he spills his heart and guts out to izuku and all he gets is that sucks? but when he opens his mouth to give deku a piece of his mind, he realizes that it does suck. it sucks royal ass and there’s nothing he or izuku can do to fix it - at least not yet - but the acknowledgment, without any attempt to give advice or make everything better, does wonders for katsuki.

he pushes out a watery laugh, his lip ticking up into a smile - for the first time in weeks - and izuku lights up a little. “yeah. it really fuckin’ does.”

the smile izuku sends back is blinding and for the one thousandth time, katsuki is reminded why the symbol of peace is just that.

they talk for a little while longer before izuku forces katsuki into the shower. he takes a long time, letting the scalding hot water turn cold before he emerges to find that his childhood best friend has started cleaning up the mess that has become of his apartment.

katsuki watches on for a moment until izuku raises an eyebrow at him and offers him a trash bag which he takes wordlessly, a wave of affection crashing over him so quickly tears come to his eyes. he blinks them away but he doesn’t miss the knowing smile izuku sends his way.

the pair work together in relative silence until the apartment is spotless and katsuki’s stomach is grumbling something fierce. izuku makes his way to the fridge but is met with nothing but a half carton of eggs and a rotting smoothie in the far corner, a sticky note attached to the lid. he fixes katsuki with a small, sad smile before digging through his drawers for a takeout menu.

when the food arrives, katsuki finishes it in record time and he can’t tell if it’s the fact they remembered to make it extra spicy or if it’s because he literally can’t remember the last time he had an actual meal, but it’s the best thing he’s eaten in a long time.

after they finish, izuku turns on the television and they both spend the evening shit talking a d-list hero film until they fall asleep on the couch, bodies slumped against one another, holding each other up.

—

that night seems to have knocked something loose in katsuki because the next morning, he wakes with his first alarm and heads to the gym for the first time since his mandatory vacation. by the end of it, his arms are burning from quirk overuse and he’s completely wiped, but he feels more like himself than he has in ages.

he finally texts his friends back (barring one) and they greet him back with high levels of enthusiasm and concern. it feels good to be received back into the fold with the love he’d thought he’d lost, his cheeks hurting with how much he’s smiling as the messages roll in.

katsuki finishes out his sentence and goes back to work on the fourteenth day with an earnest apology to best jeanist and a new lead on the villain after pouring over the case files in between hyperintensive workouts at the gym. best jeanist is quietly impressed, but the squeeze to the shoulder he gives katsuki tells him he was more worried about him than he let on.

the next few weeks pass in a blur, but this time it’s more pleasant. he watches shitty movies with izuku, deletes instagram when he sees a photo of kaito and kirishima on holiday in america, starts attending a pottery class on the weekends he has off with mina and denki, continues to ignore the texts from eijirou that are becoming more and more infrequent as time goes on, smokes with hanta and shinsou one evening and laughs harder than he ever has, and life feels like it’s slowly gaining its footing once again.

he realizes three months after kirishima had moved out that he should probably start looking for a new roommate or downgrade to something more reasonable. he seriously considers the latter, but when he looks at the space he cultivated right after he graduated from ua, he realizes he can’t quite give the place up.

he posts an ad on craigslist that night.

the next time the group goes drinking (kirishima is suspiciously absent, despite his reentry into the country a few days prior — mina mentioned it), katsuki brings up his roommate problem and denki latches on, his cheeks pleasantly flushed from the wine he’s been sipping on.

“oh, oh! i know - i know the perrrrfeeccttt roommate for you,” he slurs, toying with the earring dangling from his ear and fixing his excited gaze on katsuki’s face. “they’re like.. the besttt, dude, you’d - you’d love them.”

the words are vague, but when katsuki opens up his mouth to ask for more details, denki’s eyes widen and he rushes off to the bathroom, a hand over his mouth, nearly tripping over the his platform shoes and maxi skirt.

the topic of the roommate is quickly forgotten then, but it resurfaces a few days later at pottery class.

katsuki is glaring holes into the side of his slightly lopsided vase on the pottery wheel, internally going through the steps to see where he went wrong. denki to the left of him laughs and chatters as he makes his, frankly, hideous ceramic, the clay warped beyond recognition.

something in his one-sided conversation brings his attention to katsuki who’s startled at the sound of his name coming from denki’s mouth.

“yo, you still looking for a roommate?” he asks, tilting his head as a strand of hair falls from the lengthening ponytail at the back of his head. without alcohol in his system, denki looks a little more hesitant to be approaching this topic, but does so when he isn’t met with a howitzer to the face.

the group doesn’t know much of anything, just that kirishima and katsuki aren’t talking, so they tend to tread lightly around the subject. katsuki appreciates it, genuinely, but he’s not going to shatter at the sound of eijirou’s name - not anymore. it hurts still, of course, but the pain has dulled to a steady hum that he can ignore if he tries hard enough.

“yeah,” he grunts, turning his eyes back at his vase. “why? you got someone in mind?”

denki grins, showing off the lightning tooth gems on his canine. “hell yeah! i’ll give you their number — they teach the watercolor class here on tuesdays and they’re so cool.”

he speaks about you with obvious adoration and katsuki belatedly wonders if the two of you are dating, but doesn’t voice this curiousity, instead wordlessly handing denki his phone to put in your contact as “ROOMIE” with what feels like a hundred paint emojis after it. katsuki smiles at his friend’s antics and can’t quite bring himself to change it.

the colorful contact remains untouched for about another week until he gets a rent notice and remembers the little paint palettes in his phone.

in the middle of his morning workout, he taps out a quick text to you, before tossing his phone to the side and promptly forgetting about it.

katsuki [09:27] : Hey. I’m Bakugou. Denki gave me your number. I’m looking for a roommate. You interested?

ROOMIE [10:16] : oh hey yeah i’m interested

ROOMIE [10:17] : do you want 2 meet td

ROOMIE [10:17] : i’m at the cafe on 5th n cherry

ROOMIE [10:17] : in the back

ROOMIE [10:19] : i’ll b here 4 a while

ROOMIE [10:19] : just come whenever

katsuki only sees the message at the end of his workout a half hour later. the number of messages in a row and less than ideal grammar makes him turn up his nose but he quickly taps out an affirmative, before dapping izuku up and heading to the showers.

he makes it to the cafe twenty minutes later, scanning the place to see what he assumes is you tucked away in the back corner, your table full with books, papers, paints, your laptop and at least four empty cups of coffee.

katsuki raises an eyebrow at the sight but walks over anyway, telling himself he’s doing denki a favor by meeting someone he thinks so highly of so he won’t feel too bad when he tells him it’s not going to work out.

you don’t look up when he stops at your table, too occupied with the piece of art in front of you, your face twisted up in intense concentration.

you’re quite pretty, he notes subconsciously, the hard set of your eyes and one track focus reminding him an awful lot of himself when he’s swept into a difficult case. your complete unawareness gives him more time to take you in, though, so he can’t even bring himself to be too annoyed.

you’re wearing a bright yellow chargebolt hoodie that clashes terribly with your garishly pink acid queen baggy sweatpants. a pair of cellophane socks cover your feet where they’re stretched out in the seat across from you and your shoes (made to look like the red ones from deku’s costume, jesus christ) sit haphazardly beneath the table, empty.

it’s such a bizarre sight, katsuki almost laughs — almost — but he doesn’t, instead opting to knock your feet off the chair opposite you so he can sit down.

“a big fan of heroes, huh?” he asks, the action coupled with his words startling you so bad, your knees hit the underside of the table, threatening to upend all the precariously balanced objects decorating the surface.

you look angry at first before you realize who it is and once you do, you just look relieved. it’s an unusual reaction, one katsuki rarely gets from anyone who isn’t actively in danger, especially strangers.

“you scared the absolute shit out of me,” you say tiredly, rubbing a hand over your face and sighing. katsuki watches you recognize your own impoliteness in real time, a sheepish smile spreading across your lips.

pretty.

“fuck, sorry,” you extend a paint splotched hand to him and he takes it, shaking it firmly before it falls back to his side, fingers tingling. “i get super into shit and completely forget where i am. kami gets onto me about it all the time. says i’m prime villain bait or some shit. i think he’s saying it most of the time to freak me out, but he might actually be right. don’t ever tell him i said that though.”

katsuki can’t help but stare at you as you ramble at him with the familiarity of someone who’s known him for months, not just a few minutes. it’s uncomfortable in a strangely nice way and he can feel his muscles loosen as the nerves melt away.

“aw fuck, i’m sorry again. i didn’t introduce myself.”

you give him your name, offering your hand out for him to shake once more which he does with an amused look painting his expression. you don’t seem to notice, your attention being grabbed by the piece in front of you again.

“i’m bakugou,” he offers after a moment of silence. you don’t even look up when you respond.

“i know. you sent me that text, remember? also you’re like, super fucking famous, dynamight,” you look up at him through your lashes, teasing, and heat unexpectedly blooms on the back of his neck.

what the fuck?

in a bid to gain back control of the conversation (and himself) katsuki asks, “what’re you workin’ on? dunceface said you’re a painter or some shit.”

your nose crinkles at the moniker, but you don’t say anything about it, instead turning the sketchbook around for katsuki to look at it.

the piece is stunning, but it’s visceral and he can’t help but lean back a little when looking at it, stomach dropping.

a deer lays on the ground, gutted, blood, guts and viscera pouring out of its abdomen as a figure just out of frame reaches inside and pulls out its heart.

katsuki is disgusted but intrigued and that feeling only amplifies when you press a finger to the painting and activate your quirk.

suddenly, the hand in the painting moves so realistically he flinches — he can hear the deer’s heart beat, can hear the way the blood trickles through the blades of grass, can smell the coppery tang and can feel the rush of spring wind blowing past his face.

it’s like he’s there, in the piece, and he feels both a little sick and also so alive.

“holy fuck,” he whispers, shivering, and you laugh, deactivating your quirk, bringing him back to the real world. the sounds of the cafe flood in, replacing the smell of blood and spring fields with coffee and loose tea leaves. he shakes his head, eyes a little blown when they look at you.

your expression is playfully amused as you bring your sketchbook closer to your person, resting your head on the palm of your hand.

“sorry,” you offer, but you don’t sound very sorry at all, “should’ve asked before i used my quirk on you. not everyone likes that shit.”

the words are so nonchalant but you look like you’re poised to watch him get up and leave, never looking back. katsuki doesn’t think he could leave if he tried.

“nah,” his voice feels raw so he tries to clear it but the feeling doesn’t go away. “you’re good. just surprised me, ‘s all.”

your mouth parts in muted surprise and you tilt your head, appraising him like you’re seeing him for the first time. katsuki feels surprisingly bare as you study him, but he doesn’t drop his eye contact, despite the heavy pounding of his heart from your intensity.

the pair of you sit in silence like that for a moment or two longer before you break it, asking him if he wants something to drink. before he can tell you he doesn’t drink coffee though, you flag down the waiter, ask for a hot cup of tea (“darjeeling or oolong,” you ask the waiter, not even sparing katsuki another glance, “he doesn’t look like he fucks with green tea.” it’s true. he doesn’t. his heart does a stutter step in his chest.) and when it arrives to the table, katsuki asks you to move in with him.

you agree.

—

the move in process is so quick and easy that when it’s done, it feels like you’ve been living there for years.

your belongings integrate seamlessly into his own. your books about art history and watercolor technique find their way onto his bookshelves filled with classic japanese literature and hero history.

(he comes home one day to see you propped up on the couch with a thick book on the origin of quirks and heroism in japan that you stole borrowed from his collection. he just cocks his head at you when you meet his gaze and you shrug.

“i’m not japanese, i don’t know any of this shit,” you say in way of an explanation. “besides, this is important to you. i wanna learn.”

you turn back to your book like you didn’t just completely shake the foundation of katsuki’s world for a moment and he stumbles off to the kitchen, heat burning at the tips of his ears.)

your plants find their way on every windowsill and while, once upon a time, it would’ve made him think of kaito and that sick, curling jealousy would wrap around his chest and squeeze, now? it just makes him think of you.

(it helps you can’t really keep them alive so nearly every other week the two of you are replanting something new in the pots and vases katsuki makes in pottery class.)

your favorite foods join his in the refrigerator and the two of you take your meals together more often than not. katsuki cooks and you clean, either eating on the couch while watching a documentary or at the dining room table as you talk and talk and talk.

(the first time katsuki misses dinner, you wait up for him, even forgoing your own meal to eat with him when he returns at 2 in the morning.

“don’t do that shit again,” he grumbles when he finds out what you’ve done, his scarlet eyes piercing your own. you shrug, unafraid, tired eyes trailing lazily over his tank top clad form.

“don’t tell me what to do,” you retort after a moment, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips, “i like eating with you.”

your honesty, unabashed and loud, always bowls him over and he has to take a sip of his ice water to feel steady again.)

the relationship between the two of you is easy, for once, and katsuki finds himself looking forward to coming home, to you and your witty comments, sharp intelligence, and your uncanny ability to see right through him.

he swears it must be a hidden quirk, the way you seem to just know — know what he wants and needs without even asking and your accuracy rate is pretty much unbeatable.

after a particularly bad mission where the property damage is unusually high and the civilian casualties match, the leading hero news journalist puts out a scathing piece about him, sending him into an emotional spiral.

you find him that afternoon, curled up in bed, staring at the window blankly. you crawl up in bed beside him and you don’t speak, don’t offer him coddling words of “everything’s gonna be okay,” or “you did the best you could,” because if that was katuski’s best, he doesn’t fucking deserve to be a hero. not at all.

but no, you don’t offer him empty words of placation. instead, you brush a lock of his hair off of his forehead and look at him with that all-seeing gaze, your expression neither soft nor hard, but understanding.

“you’re not gonna let that shit happen again, right?” you ask, tilting your head. katsuki shakes his head vehemently, the mere notion of the same amount of dead bodies on his watch sending a fire through his chest as he sits up.

“fuck no.”

“good. now come here, i painted something new and i need to see if i get ‘good job’ or ‘holy fuck that’s shitty’ eyebrows from you.”

and that’s that.

you’ve even given him a nickname and it inexplicably makes his skin feel tight, like he needs to tear it off and show you, like it’s a display of how you make him feel.

it’s a lazy sunday afternoon, one he’s required to take off by best jeanist, and he’s spent it next to you on the couch, listening to a few of your records while you paint a forest scene, a skittish doe front and center with rivulets of water streaming from beneath it.

occasionally, you’ll activate your quirk and katsuki can suddenly hear birds chirping and the creak of the wood before he’s back in your cramped flat, the sounds of city sounding below.

it’s jarring and yet, comforting, both your presence and the quirk, in a way that still doesn’t make sense to him yet.

“bambi, are you even listening to me?” the term of what he assumes is endearment startles him out of his thoughts and he eyes dart to yours, an amused expression on your your brow.

“who the fuck are you callin’ bambi?” in his shock, he can hardly conjure up the ability to sound pissed, confusion instead hijacking his words, making them come out soft and gruff.

“you, idiot,” you reply, like it makes all the sense in the world. “you’re like a deer to me. something in you is skittish, afraid and yet, you’re still so beautiful.”

what the fuck.

katsuki’s breath completely evaporates from his lungs and he feels like he’s going to pass out at your frank words. it doesn’t help that you don’t break eye contact or look embarrassed to have said something so, so… intimate.

he can’t even begin to parse through how to respond to something like that, but you know that too, flicking a little bit of paint water at him with the tip of your brush. he sees the olive branch for what it is and he grabs it with both hands, the annoyed sound rising from his throat on autopilot as you laugh, but your eyes are still so knowing.

he thinks about that day everyday after with sickening butterflies flapping around in his stomach and those only magnify when you choose to call him the new nickname every single chance you get.

katsuki would not dream of stopping you.

—

it’s about two months into you moving in with him and he’s going out drinking with the squad. he’s invited you about thirty times but every time you decline, citing that you’re behind on grading art projects and that show you were looking forward to is airing tonight.

(you’re a substitute art teacher at the local elementary school, a fact that genuinely shocked katsuki when he found out.

you’d laughed, wide and unapologetic at his reaction.

“i know i’ve got quite the potty mouth but i clean it up for the kids,” you say, eyes twinkling. “they kinda love me, i think, but it might just be the bob ross videos i put on for them every friday.”)

katsuki chooses not to push but he knows that he’ll end up cutting the night short, just so he can sprawl next to you on the couch and watch you paint.

you seem to know it too (how?? secret quirk, it must be) if the knowing look you give him isn’t enough as he goes to change.

when he returns to the living room, he’s clad in a nice black button down that’s unbuttoned enough to show off the strong planes of his chest and his thin gold chain, and a pair of black jeans that fit him and his tiny waist incredibly well.

katsuki knows he looks good in this outfit, but he finds himself uncharacteristically nervous as he stands in front of you, your eyes dragging down his body as slow as molasses, igniting the skin as though it was a physical touch.

your eyes meet his once again, molten and hot, and katsuki’s knees nearly buckle at the sight. he’s never seen you look like that - not at him, not at anyone, and he finds that he quite likes to be the center of your attention in this way.

“you clean up nicely, bambi,” you murmur, your voice a lower timber in comparison to your normal speech.

the blush spreads immediately to all visible parts of his body and he can fucking see you holding back a grin. “fuck off,” is all he can say before he spins on his heel, grabs his keys, and marches out the door.

it takes everything in him to continue walking, out and up to the train station and then to the bar, because all he wants to do is turn right back around, back to your home and back to that lava-like gaze you pinned him with earlier.

it’s you that’s racing around in his mind when he pushes the door open to the bar, but all thoughts come to a complete, grinding halt when he sees kirishima at their usual table, surrounded by all their friends and grinning like he’d never left.

he looks different - after all, it’s been about a year since katsuki had seen him last. his hair is longer and his roots are grown out, his skin has taken on such a warm glow and it, impossibly, seems like he’s gotten even bigger somehow.

it’s also impossible to miss the black band on his ring finger signaling a new engagement ring which he figures is what they’re meant to be celebrating tonight, eyes belatedly catching on the comically tiny “i’m engaged!” sash hanging around his chest.

the sight of kirishima sends the most heinous bolt of anxiety through katsuki and now he really just wants to call you to come get him and take him home, to make him forget all about his unrequited love. he moves backwards to do just that, but he’s already been spotted by kirishima himself.

fuck.

katsuki is frozen as kirishima’s happy expression falters when he meets his eyes, cycling through shock, disbelief, stark hurt and then utter relief.

he can see the way kiri’s mouth forms “katsuki” from a distance as he puts down his drink and moves towards him, his feet completely frozen until they’re standing face to face (face to chest, really) for the first time in months.

“hey,” kirishima says, hesitantly, breathlessly, as his hands flutter uselessly at his sides, like he wants to just pick katsuki up but is stopping himself. “can we, uh, can we go outside and talk?”

katsuki just nods because what else is supposed to do? and as they move out, he catches the worried gazes of their friends watching the pair of them from the table. denki and izuku, the latter of whom knows the most (everything) and the former who managed to figure most of it out on his own.

(“takes one to know one,” he’d said, bitterly when he’d confronted katsuki a few weeks ago about his unexplained mandatory leave all those months ago. katsuki was confused until kaminari flipped around his phone to reveal a photo of him and hanta pressed tightly together in an embrace that was strictly platonic and yet, horribly intimate.

katsuki’s lips drew together into a tight line as he settled against the brick wall kami was leaning against, trying to light the cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.

“you’re too good for plain face,” he says after a moment, attempting to channel his inner you, blunt and honest. “you’re gonna find someone better.” and just like all his thoughts as of recently, they’d flitted right back to you.

denki had watched his face carefully, cigarette unlit, a thoughtful look crossing his own expression.

“yeah,” he concedes, “i will, won’t i?”)

katsuki gives the pair of them a nod, holding up a hand to izuku who looks like he wants to follow them out of the bar, despite the pounding in his chest and the way he suddenly feels unsteady on his feet as they leave the building to step right back out into the cool, fall air.

kirishima’s stance is awkward and since neither of them smoke, they both just stand there, barely looking at each other and waiting for the other person to speak up first.

“fuckin’ hell- what’d you wanna talk about kirishima?” katsuki grits out, tired of the waiting game and suddenly, immediately, so exhausted. all he wants to do is be curled up beside you, with your all seeing eyes and gentle utterances of “bambi” in his ear.

the tact he’d lost in his haste to get this over with stings kirishima whose brows furrow in annoyance. “what do i want to talk about? i haven’t seen you in a year, bakugou, not since i moved out and you completely cut me off with no explanation whatsoever. i want to know why. what - what did i do wrong?”

his voice breaks on the last word and it sounds so sad, so uncharacteristically eijirou, that katsuki flinches, finally looking over at kirishima to see a broken, pleading man who lost his best friend for nothing more than silly, stupid feelings.

at once, katsuki feels all the fucking idiot asshole he is and it’s staggering how much that thought makes him feel like shit. he could’ve reached out, he could’ve, but he was so worried that he wouldn’t have been able to keep it together, spending time with kiri, and as time passed, the issue became that so much time had passed and he had no idea how to navigate this all over again.

he runs a hand over his face, leaning against the brick facade of the bar. “fuck,” he whispers, gravel crunching underfoot as kiri steps closer.

“i - i miss you, kats,” kiri’s voice comes out quiet and thick, “i got engaged and all i wanted to do was call you, but you weren’t there, you weren’t speaking to me and i-“ he takes a shuddering breath and katsuki’s eyes fill with tears.

“i was in love with you.”

the sounds of the street fade out as katsuki finally turns to look at kirishima, the tears falling down his cheeks.

“wha- bakugou, what?”

“i was in love with you and i couldn’t fuckin’ - i couldn’t do it. not to myself, not to you.”

kirishima face is drawn, pale and mouth gaping. his mouth closes, then opens again, then snaps shut, his head shaking in disbelief.

“why didn’t you - fuck - why didn’t you ever say anything, man?”

katsuki scoffs, the sound wet with grief. “are you shittin’ me? why the hell would i do that?”

kiri shrugs, long, dark lashes sweeping his cheekbones, leaving tiny wet marks. a year ago, the sight would’ve filled katsuki with rabid butterflies, but now it remains just an observation, one made passively and without thinking.

“i should’ve told you somethin’, i fuckin’ know that now, but i was - i was scared. scared of you hating me, scared of losing you. but i went and fucked that one up anyway, so,” katsuki laughs, self deprecating, and kirishima shakes his head vehemently, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him into a tight hug.

katsuki’s throat is tight as he gives into the embrace, burying his face into kirishima’s shoulder.

“you haven’t lost me, kats, and you never will,” kirishima whispers, pulling apart far enough to press his forehead to katsuki’s, red eyes meeting red. “i mean, who else is gonna be my best man?”

katsuki’s eyes widen and he takes a step back. “don’t fuck with me.”

kirishima shakes his head, a wet laugh escaping his lips. “not fucking with you bro. you’re my best friend. i want you there beside me on the happiest day of my life.”

after everything, after the year of no contact and the absolutely shitty way katsuki treated him, kirishima still wants katsuki by his side?

he’s honored, he’s out of his depth, he’s fucking nauseous, and he really wants to go home and tell you.

“i met someone,” he blurts and kirishima looks startled at the change of subject, but takes it in stride, a smile tugging at his face.

“that’s so great, dude, congrats! what’s their name?”

katsuki breathes it out and when he does, he realizes something, the force of it hitting him like a steel beam to the head.

“i think i’m in love with them.”

kirishima blinks, taking in katsuki’s tense form. he looks like he’s about to run away.

“i’m so happy for you, kats. really, i am,” kiri says, before being taken off guard yet again by the hug katsuki initiates.

“of course i’ll be your best man, shitty hair. i fuckin’ missed you too,” he murmurs and he hears kirishima sniffle. “i gotta go but text me and we’ll get lunch tomorrow or some shit, okay? i’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

he pulls away to see eijirou’s big wet eyes stare down at him with unabashed care and love, and katsuki feels his heart swell.

he got his best friend back and now it’s time to get you.

kirishima agrees to the meetup wholeheartedly and lets katsuki go with a hearty pat on the back and a shouted “good luck!” over the sound of the rain that started up during the last moments of conversation before going back inside the bar.

katsuki considers blasting his way to you, but he knows the optics would be incredibly unfavorable and his pr department would have his head, so he races to the train station instead and hops aboard, his mind racing with thoughts of you.

his hair is plastered to his forehead with rain by the time he gets to his apartment building and the button up is molded to his body like a second skin. he’s uncomfortable, of course, but he hardly pays it any mind because before he knows it, he’s unlocking and pushing open the door to your shared flat.

he’s home.

you startle from your place upside down on the couch, your paints and sketchbook cluttering the coffee table at the side while the tv plays an ancient looking cooking show quietly.

katsuki is bowled over by the sight, the weight of what he now knows as love sending him stumbling a little on his feet. he has to hold onto the doorjamb to keep his footing.

you sit up, observing, and you tilt your head. “you’re back early,” you comment, curiosity lacing your words.

he nods, not trusting his voice as finally steps past the threshold, kicking off his shoes and putting on a pair of hideous hawks themed slippers that you’d bought for him on your own birthday.

you hum thoughtfully before standing and disappearing down the hallway, katsuki’s eyes glued to you as you go. he can hear the sounds of you rummaging around in the bathroom, his feet frozen to the floor when you return, a fluffy towel in hand.

“you should shower, of course,” you say with a grin, opening up the towel and draping it over his head to dry it before moving on to the rest of his sopping body. “but i figured i’d keep you from dripping all over that ugly rug you’re obsessed with.”

katsuki doesn’t respond, can’t, and you don’t push or question, instead diligently wiping him down until he’s marginally more dry, eg, not actively dripping on the hardwood.

you move to go dispose of the towel and katsuki’s hand shoots out, not of his own volition, to hold you in place. it’s here he notices how close you’ve been standing to him, your breath wafting over his collarbones.

“bambi?” you question, unafraid of him, just lightly confused, but you don’t move away from him, somehow picking up his need for closeness without him saying anything, and he snaps.

“i love you,” he whispers, the explosion in his chest coming out in just those three gruff words, his carmine eyes boring into your own with an intensity you match.

a small smile spreads over your lips and your eyes light up, joy thrumming over your skin. “i love you too, katsuki.”

it’s perfect and katsuki can’t stop himself from cupping your face and pressing your lips together.

the kiss is gentle and chaste, your hands dropping the towel, coming up to rest on his forearms and holding him in place as you move your lips softly against his own.

katsuki feels like the rest of the world could implode right now, could be on fire or flooding or being overrun by villains and none of it would matter, not a single fucking thing because you’re in his arms and you’re kissing him back and you love him.

these thoughts ignite a hunger in him, a flame stoking in his belly, and he pushes further into the kiss, his hands sliding from their place on your face. one cups the back of your neck while the other slides down your back, pressing you firmly against the front of his body.

he’s almost giddy, having you like this, and he’s sure you can feel it because you’re smiling into the kiss like this is the happiest day of your life.

he thinks it’s his.

you continue trading kisses like this in your foyer, but it only escalates when your tongue flickers across katsuki’s bottom lip and you sigh softly, back arching against him.

katsuki has to break apart from you so he doesn’t consume you in that moment, but you don’t go far (you never do), your foreheads pressed together while you breathe in each others air.

“fuckin’ hell,” he chokes out and you laugh. “can i please - fuck - i need you.”

his honesty shuts you up quick and you nod, biting your lip. “take me to bed, bambi.”

and that he does.

katsuki’s hand finds yours and he pulls you towards his bedroom — you’ve been in there countless times, to watch movies, to nap, to read with one another, but of course, it was never like this.

the tension is thick but it’s not uncomfortable at all. you walk over to his bed and plop down on it like you’ve been in this situation a thousand times. the action soothes any residual anxiety katsuki might’ve had as he walks over to you, your heated gaze tracking his movements the entire time.

“take this shit off,” he grumbles, tugging at the garish all might crewneck covering your abdomen and you swat his hand away with an amused look.

he can feel his pout forming at your smile, but you just shake your head. “don’t tell me what to do, bambi,” but still, you raise grip the bottom of the thick fabric, lifting it up and over your head before letting it drop to the ground, leaving you bare.

or almost bare, if not for the objectively hideous, brightly colored, thin, cheap and lacey dynamight themed underwear covering your body.

“what the fuck is this?” katsuki doesn’t mean for his question to come out so reverent, but seeing you clad in his colors sends a bolt of heat down his spine so strong, he’s quite literally never been harder in his life.

you don’t seem to notice (but you always do), tilting your head at him with a grin playing on your lips. “they were on sale. didn’t think you’d ever see them.”

katsuki’s brows furrow at that, his hands tightening from their place on your hips. “who the fuck else was going to?”

you shake your head, like there’s something he isn’t getting. “no one. it’s always been you.”

“fuckin’-“ katsuki surges for you, claiming your lips with his with an urgency that had previously been lost. you respond in kind and this time, you’re letting out all these quiet gasps and sighs, writhing beneath him. he has to see you fall apart.

he reluctantly detaches his face from yours, kissing down your neck and sucking marks into the thin skin there, one of your hands sliding up to tangle into his hair, keeping him close.

a moan escapes him at the feeling of your fingers on his scalp, nearly getting lost in the mindless action, but he has to keep going. he makes it to your chest, laving his tongue over one of your nipples, flicking the hardened bud with the tip.

“f-fuck, bambi,” you outright moan and katsuki has to grind down against the mattress, his free hand sliding to pinch and pull at your other nipple.

your body can’t figure out whether to arch towards or away from his ministrations, which katsuki takes special delight in. you’re always so in control of yourself, even when you’re not, so it’s beyond rewarding to be responsible for your destruction.

“bambi - fuck - ‘suki, fuck me,” you groan and katsuki’s eyes roll back before he pulls off your nipple with a pop, his lips red and slick.

“nah.”

“nah?” you parrot, leaning up on your elbows with the closest thing he’s seen to annoyance directed at him written all over your face.

“nah. ‘m gonna make you come first.” katsuki grins, feral, and you shudder.

“get to it then, hero.” the moniker, while meant to be sarcastic and biting, just makes katsuki moan, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your (dynamight !!) underwear and tossing them to the floor.

he leans in, propping up one of your legs over his shoulder to bury his nose in the crease between hip and thigh, inhaling deeply. you smell sharp and tangy and so you that he couldn’t stop himself from taking a lick, entrance to clit, if he tried.

you sigh at that first touch of his wet muscle, melting in the bed while one hand remains buried in his hair and the other splays above your head. you watch him move with that intense look and you don’t look away so he doesn’t either.

he doesn’t look away as he slurps loudly at your entrance, tasting the wetness that’s gathered there with a pleased hum. doesn’t look away as he swirls his tongue around your clit, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. doesn’t look away as he picks up pace, swirling, flicking and sucking until you’re chanting his name and “bambi,” your body tensing up as you buck your hips up into his face. doesn’t look away when you cum hard, soaking his lips and chin to which he eagerly groans, slurping up all you have to offer.

you pull him up to stop him from licking you through your aftershocks, kissing him hard once he gets to eye level.

“please,” you beg, eyes wide and urgent. who is he to deny you or himself?

katsuki stands and shucks off his boxers in record time, wrapping a hand around his cock that’s hard and leaking, the tip bright red.

your eyes eat him up hungrily, lingering on the way his precum spills over his knuckles with every slow stroke.

“i’m gonna suck your pretty cock tomorrow, preferably before breakfast,” you comment breathlessly. katsuki has to wrap his fingers around the base of his cock to keep himself from coming in that moment, taking a deep breath and glaring at you when you giggle.

“condom?” you shake your head, leaning back and spreading your legs to show off the wet mess he’s made of you.

“‘m clean and i’m in love with you. fuck me. now.” you can’t even sound commanding, not with the whine lying beneath your words, giving away how bad you want him. how bad you want this.

if the way katsuki’s cock legitimately jumped at your words is anything to go by, he obviously feels the same.

“goddamit, can’t fuckin’ say shit like that to me, jesus,” he rambles, crawling back onto the bed and notching the fat head of his dick into your entrance before leaning down to kiss you, open mouthed and messy.

he pushes into you when your tongue is halfway down his throat and he nearly chokes on it. you’re so soft and wet and velvety — he’s gonna cum so fucking fast, holy shit.

of course, you know it too, know him like the back of your hand because you squeeze even tighter around him and slide your hand down between your bodies to rub frantically at your clit.

“you - oh, god, you feel so fucking good bambi, fucking me so well, always taking care of me,” your words slur together as your eyes roll back, his hips slamming into yours at a quick pace.

he wants you to cum first, wants it more than anything, but the dirty talk coupled with the way you feel clenching around him has him shooting off faster than he expected, a low, long whine leaving him.

his hips stutter against yours and fireworks go off behind his eyelids. it feels like he’s coming forever as he humps into you and that feeling is only prolonged by you coming around him, your cunt clenching so tightly, you force him out, his spend spreading all over your mons and pelvis with a choked groan.

after another long moment, he slumps against you, exhausted and happier than he’s ever been.

you hum contentedly, wrapping your arm around him to pull him half on top of you, your body succumbing to the tiredness that’s so quickly overtaken you.

“i love you, katsuki,” you whisper, the phrase thick with sleep and emotion. katsuki feels burning at the backs of his eyes so he buries his face in the crook of your neck to hide, kissing your shoulder when the words don’t come.

you know, though. you always do.

—

“fuck, bambi, we’re gonna be late!” you screech from your (now) shared room, the sound muffled from where your head is buried in the closet.

by the door, katsuki is trying (and failing) to tie his bow tie, the red fabric remaining uncooperative in his hands. he groans in frustration, raising a hand to run it through his hair but stopping short when he remembers how you painstakingly fixed it for him a few hours ago.

“i know! it’s this stupid fuckin’ tie!” he shouts back, staring at himself in the little mirror you purchased, smiling a little despite himself when he remembers that trip to the home decor store with you, picking out new items that represent the both of you for your apartment.

speak of the devil, you step up behind him, looking gorgeous in a red, floor length dress, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“you look really good bambi,” you grin, fingers dragging down his abdomen to rest on his waistband, but his hands stop your downward motion while he gives you a halfhearted glare through the reflection.

“don’t start that shit,” katsuki turns around in your hold to face you, your hands immediately finding his undone tie. you work efficiently, face so scrunched up and focused that katsuki can only lift your face to press a kiss to your lips.

you melt, kissing him back easily and when you pull away, his lips are tinged with your lip products, marked by you. “you have a little something…” you trail off, wiping it away, not realizing how he stares at you like you’re the sun and he has no other choice but to revolve around you.

“marry me,” katsuki blurts, heat burning at the tips of his ears after a moment of you looking at him in utter disbelief.

he worries for a split second that you’re going to say no, but then your face splits into the most blinding smile he’s ever seen.

“are you proposing to me right now, bakugou katsuki?” you tease, fingers toying with the tie around his neck.

he nods, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer to him. “so what if i am?”

you laugh and nod, tears filling your lash line as the lighthearted facade drops to reveal you, earnest and honest and so so in love with him.

katsuki has no idea how he got so lucky, what he did in a past life to have you in his life and agreeing to be with him, in his life forever.

“of fucking course, i’ll marry you,” you say, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. “and i want nothing more than to make love to you on our brand new ikea sofa, but if we’re late to kiri’s wedding, he’s gonna kill me and make you watch.”

even the empty threat you make through your happy tears centers you in katsuki’s life, like you know that you are the center of his world, of his entire universe. you always know, know him better than he knows himself and there isn’t anyone on this whole earth who he’d rather be with than you.

he doesn’t tell you any of this though, blinking back tears instead and agreeing with a laugh, before finally ushering the pair of you out the door.

the thing is, katsuki doesn’t have to tell you.

you already know.

[lilyisclueless]

When they realize they're in love - Gojo Satoru

How I imagine the boys get hit with the realization that they love you. Satoru's turn

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x reader

Tags: Fluff, that's about it

-

He isn’t sure when the two of you got as close as you did. He’s known you for years, being one of the first ones to greet you when you transferred from Kyoto to be a teacher here, and ever since it’s been a gradual growth. It was a steady growth, but so slow that by the time he picked up on the fact the two of you were close friends, his only option was to accept that after years of goofing around and not allowing anyone close, he’s finally made another friend. A serious friend; not just another comrade putting up with him.

That realization happened a few years ago. It was a surprise but he accepted it. Since then the two of you have grown even closer. He’s grown to admire you, and you’re one of the very, very few people that he had any ounce of respect for. It wasn’t like you were incredibly strong, although you definitely could hold your own, so he wasn’t sure why.

Maybe it was the way you understood his ideals, how you wholeheartedly supported them and defended him. When he had told you that he wanted to let the vessel of Sukana live, you immediately agreed to vouch for him. You didn’t question him, didn’t ask if he lost his mind. You didn’t make a face or doubt him. He didn’t have to convince you. When he asked why you were so quick to agree, you smiled up at him and told him that you trusted his judgment completely, and if he was wrong about Itadori; you trusted he would deal with him.

That had left a weird fuzzy feeling in his chest he couldn’t shake off for the next couple days.

Maybe the admiration came from how you took care of the students. You care about them the same way a mother would about their children. You would surprise them with sweets and gifts, always making sure everyone got their favorite. If they needed someone to talk to, you were the one they went to. He’ll never forget the way you broke down when he had to break the news that Itadori had died. That was the first time he held you in his arms, and if he didn’t want to kill the higher-ups before, he certainly did then when he was feeling you fall to pieces between his fingers.

Naturally, he didn’t hide it from you when he woke up. Maybe it was the fear of what happened with a certain someone in the past, but his soul didn’t feel at ease until he saw the way you melted in relief at seeing their student standing again.

Or maybe it was the way you matched his energy. Or the way you can soothe his emotions with ease. Maybe because you could take his jokes, and throw them right back at him. Or how you weren’t afraid to goof off, claiming the world was too bleak to be so serious all the time. Sometimes you would have to rein him back in, but only when he needed it.

There were a lot of reasons for him to respect and admire you, but none of them felt quite right when he asked himself why.

“I know I’m always telling you to shut up, but it’s weird when you actually do it,” you speak up, breaking his line of thoughts. He glances down at you, the two of you walking side by side to find a soda machine. It was rare for the two of you to go out for any other reason than a mission or supervise the kids, but today was the rare exception. He glanced down at your outfit, and he couldn’t help but think you looked cute, but you spoke up again before he could dwell on that, “What’s on your mind?”

His smile twitches, the corner of his lips tugging into a playful smile. He looks away from you, staring straight ahead as he hums in thought at your question. You could barely see his blue eyes peak from over his sunglasses, but you definitely could make out the teasing glint in them.

“I’m just wondering why a girl like you chooses to spend her time with a guy like me.” You felt your cheek grow a little warm, and you’re quick to look away with a nervous chuckle. Where was he going with this? “After all, I’m the strongest and you’re the weakest. How are we supposed to-“

He’s cut off with a small ‘oof’ when you give his shoulder a playful punch, completely throwing him off guard. You hadn’t moved your body to indicate you were planning on trying to hit him, simply swung your arm straight to the side.

He stopped walking then, rubbing at the spot you’d hit him. Not because it hurt, he was Gojo Satoru after all. He could handle a little punch that held no real intent behind it. No, because he was shocked you actually managed to hit him.

He’s allowed you to touch him before of course, so you don’t realize how significant that moment was. Because every time you’ve touched him in the past, he’s allowed it. He’s put his infinity down purposely. This time? You simply skipped through. He felt the moment your hand touched it and simply kept going.

The last person who could ever do that was…

You stopped moving, shuffling to face him with a curious expression on your face. He could still see a hint of red on your cheeks, and you tilted your head to the side to raise an eyebrow at him. “Don’t tell me I wounded you with that little punch? Who’s the strongest one now?”

He wishes his heart would stop pounding in his chest. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt flustered. He forced himself to resume his walking, purposely reaching down and ruffling your hair when he walked past you. As he expected, you immediately start complaining and become distracted trying to put those pretty strands back into place.

His long strides put him a good distance away, and he laughs when you have to jog to catch up. The two of you fall into a playful banter, which eventually trailed off to a comfortable silence.

No wonder it didn’t feel right to say he respected and admired you for all that you do. He respected and admired you because he loves you.

He wonders when he fell in love with you, but he has a feeling it was just like their friendship - so gradual that he’ll never be able to pinpoint it. That’s okay though. He’s tired of taking it slow with you. Soon, he decides, he's going to take you on a date.

[neuropteran]

honestly something that has surprised me a lot that i only recently realised is the amount of ppl that get rlly serious abt their first partner. which is totally fine and cool! it just means ive only just realised a lot of ppl only have their parents & their first relationship as their entire guide for how this stuff works. its made me more compassionate to perspectives i hadn’t considered before.

[joonberriess]

𓆩♡𓆪 “wetter than umbrellas and stickier than apple pie,” — jock!jk

·˚ ༘ 💌 TAGS — fingering (brief), unprotected sex, creampies, attempted quiet sex, reader’s WAP, messy sex, squirting (mentioned), some dirty talk, possessive!jk, jealous!jk + jennie, jennie makes an appearance woooo, voyeurism on her part, she wants you, sexual tension(?), oc is a dumb puppy: confirmed

You’re just so so pretty… Jennie is utterly in love with you. How could anyone not be? You’re the sweetest thing that’s ever walked this earth; it'd be a crime to not like you. It made Jennie just want to wrap you up in a little cocoon and never let you back out, you were too good for this place (too good for Jungkook too in her humble opinion).

She’s always harbored a tiny crush on you, it never got too serious because she knew you probably didn’t swing that way anyways. There were no hard feelings between the two of you anyways which she was glad for. Jennie however was irked by Jungkook as of lately (when was she not irritated with him though?). More than usual might she say.

The thing was Jungkook had a big mouth, he was shameless and was always letting shit slip from his lips. Jennie despised him for putting images of you, her little cutie pie dummy, in the most vulgar positions known to man all because of his mouth. Up until now she hadn’t really thought about you in that way, even if the walls were a little too thin and she might have heard a thing or two.

“Oh I’m sorry,” you’d say with those cute puppy eyes of yours, “I promise I’ll keep it down!” Jennie knew you’d forget so she didn’t hold you to that.

It all started about a week ago when Jennie had met up with Jisoo and the older girl accidentally let it slip about you and Jungkook. “I can’t believe they talk about our sex lives, I did NOT need to know Jungkook eats ass for fucks sake.” Jisoo spits out in embarrassment, covering her mouth as she tries not to laugh too loudly.

Jennie’s brow quirks up, “He eats ass?” She peers over at Jisoo, “Who the fuck told you that.” She snorts.

“My boyfriend duhh, who else Jennie?” Jisoo shakes her head and rolls her eyes fondly, “He hung out with him like last week and they were talking about shit they’ve done or what they like and don’t like.”

Jennie stops listening once Jisoo starts complaining about Yugyeom spilling the beans. She looks down at the ground while they walk, zoning out and getting lost in her thoughts. Her not so holy thoughts at that.. Now she can’t stop thinking about how you’ve probably gotten your ass ate.

(It’s what you deserve of course. Jennie’s surprised her mouth waters a little at the thought.)

Since then Jennie starts noticing a lot more things she once didn’t think were sexual or shit she just flat out ignored like your unabashed nudity and silly little shows of affection with her. It makes her realize what a little minx you are, and the very painful fact that she’s attracted to you more than ever.

“Jennieeeee!” You happily whine and throw your arms around the girl, “Are you proud of me I made dinner for us.” You rub your cheek against her own and pout at her, “I didn’t forget to push down the lever on the toaster this time either!”

Jennie hesitantly slides her hands around your (soft?) hips, resting them right there as she balances herself because she’s got an arm full of you. “Really? That’s good y/n,” she squeezes your cheek and smiles. Jennie gets an eye full of tits right in her face she literally has to force her eyes away as she grimaces.

“What’s wrong?” You tilt your head, eyes full of wonder and lips still set into a small pout.

Jennie shakes her head, “Nothing, just hungry.”

“Let’s eat!”

Things get worse when Jennie comes home one night late from work, she had seen Jungkook’s car parked out in the front and she dreaded his presence already. “I’m home.” She calls out while unlocking the door, not wanting her entrance to be a surprise just in case you two were getting busy.

“Hi,” you turn your head and send her a soft smile, “you okay? I left some take out in the microwave for you.” You turn back around and lay your head back on Jungkook’s shoulder again. Jungkook’s busy still watching the movie so he waves his hand in acknowledgement.

Jennie rolls her eyes and passes by, but not before smacking the back of Jungkook’s head, “I thought I told your ass to stop parking your car so near the fucking line. I can’t even get out of my own damn car.”

“Fuck off no I didn’t,” Jungkook laughs, “you fuckin’ liar always trying to hate on me for no reason.” He says and throws a balled up napkin at Jennie who yells ‘Hey bitch!’ in surprise, “y/n tell her something, she’s being mean to me.” Jungkook buries his face in your face and leaves small kisses there.

Before Jennie can make a face of disgust you turn to her with that pretty face of yours, “Jen, I already told you that it’s not nice being a meanie. You pinky promised me you were going to be nicer.” It’s sickening how gagged you have her.

Jennie surprisingly lets it go and heads over to sit down on the opposite couch. She grumbles in annoyance and tosses a dirty look at Jungkook, who’s smug as a motherfucker right now. Her eyes lower down to your smooth pretty thighs, not a hair in sight (must have waxed..) You’re wearing a pair of pink sailor moon socks and from this angle she catches a glimpse of your panties which are completely lace..

You’re curled up on Jungkook’s side, tucked away and hidden by both his big ass and then the oversized shirt you assume belongs to him (given the lack of clothes on his ass). The collar is slightly disheveled and pulled down off to the side, exposing your hickey covered neck looking like he mauled you. Jungkook looks so nonchalant as he rubs your thigh with his hand, squeezing and gripping the soft looking flesh.

Jennie hates to admit but you two look so fucking hot together. Now she sees why people think you two make a fit couple, you make everyone else look like shit. She ends up sulking even more in her seat and decides to watch the movie instead or else she’s going to be more annoyed at him.

Half way through the movie Jennie hears you yawn softly and that’s when it’s Jungkook’s cue to move. He picks you up like nothing and starts to head out to your room. “Night Jennie.” You softly whisper, “I’ll see you tomorrow ‘kay?” You smack your lips together as you smile sleepily at her.

Jennie waves, “Night.” She decides to stick it out and watch the rest of the movie alone.

She doesn’t exactly count on falling asleep then and there, only waking up when the tv’s light blares in her face with the stupid “Still watching?” screen displayed. “Fuck what time is it?” She whispers to herself and grabs her phone, hissing at the brightness and closing her bleary eyes, “Three?” She grunts and rolls off the couch.

Jennie turns the TV off and heads down the hall to her room, blinking the blurriness in her vision away. She sees your door cracked open and makes a mental note to shut it for you after she finishes using the restroom. It’s when she’s washing her hands that she hears…it. She frowns in confusion and stops for a moment, hearing a rhythmic thudding noise against the walls.

“What the fuck..” Jennie whispers and dries off her hands, stopping for a few seconds as the sounds continue. “So I’m not trippin’.” She concludes and steps out quietly.

The noise is more clear when she steps out into the hallway and Jennie already knows what the hell you two are up to. It pisses her off more that the door is left open and now she has to fucking sneak into her room without being spotted. Just her luck honestly.

+

“Mm..mmm..” Moans slip past your lips as Jungkook’s hands hold your waist steady while fucks into your wet cunt over and over again. He’s not completely bottoming out to avoid making any unnecessary noises like your skin smacking against each other etc.

Jungkook’s eyes are settled down on your bouncing and jiggling tits, your nipples are perked up begging to be sucked on. He told you that you both needed to keep quiet but honestly it’s getting a bit harder with how good you wrap around his cock. Your cunt’s so fucking creamy dollops of slick coat his cock and form a ring around the base, which disappears everytime he slips back in to your dewy little pussy.

“Shit baby,” he grunts under his breath, “ ‘member we gotta keep quiet?” He bites down on his bottom lip and resists the urge to fuck into you harder.

You mewl softly in return and reach up to grip the pillow you’re laying on, “..trying,” you weakly huff, “just feels so good.” Your eyes are hazy and your speech comes out a little slurred, Jungkook already knows you’re about to start drooling at this point.

“Be a good girl for me.” He moans quietly and grips your chin tightly, pressing your cheeks together and making your pouty lips pucker up for him. “I know you can.” He whispers as his eyes drop down to where you’re both connected, a string of creamy slick already coats his pelvis and he curses at how much wetter you just got.

You gasp quietly and arch your back when his cock strikes your g-spot, perfectly rubbing up against it with his coordinated thrusts. You greedily roll your hips up into his and gurgle on your moans. “More,” you slur out, “wan’ more Jungkookie.”

He moans a little too loud as his hips stutter in their movements, he finds himself pressing in and rotating his hips in small circles. You’re just too fucking sexy for your own good, had his poor cock throbbing and everything. As Jungkook grinds in deeply, he listens to the sounds your cunt makes. It’s like macaroni in a pot.

“Holy fuck, you’re gonna make me cum baby.” Jungkook’s mouth falls open in a silent moan as he shudders, “Soaked lil’ pussy makin’ a mess on my cock, you gonna clean it for me?” He gasps quietly.

You nod eagerly and whimper for more, “C-Cum, cum in me.” You whisper out as your hand travels down, fingers parting in a ‘V’ right where his cock slides in and out. “P-Promise I’ve been good..!” You moan out, “Been the best girl for you.”

He loses it when your little fingers slide against his shaft everytime he backstrokes and then pushes back in. His balls ache and he fucks into you for a couple more seconds until he’s coming and filling your pussy to the brim. “Shit,” he releases a long sigh as he pants quietly and looks down, “fuckin’ hell.” Jungkook bites his lip and muffles his moan as he slowly slips his sensitive cock out of you with a wet plop.

You happily curl your legs towards you, hands coming under your thighs to hold them up so not a drop of cum is wasted. “Did good?” You sleepily ask.

“Perfect.” Jungkook licks his lips and leans up to kiss you as he trails a hand down to your slicked up pussy, fingers dipping into the mess you created down there. He intends on getting you messier, good thing you have all night long.

+

Jennie doesn’t sleep at all after that night. She remembers lying awake in bed as images flashed through her brain like a sequence. She thinks about your messy thighs and how your pussy stretched around Jungkook’s cock. Needless to say she went to bed uncomfortably hot down there and a pair of wet panties.

She doesn’t look neither you nor Jungkook in the eye the next day when she goes to get breakfast. You’re as clueless as ever but something about Jungkook’s dark eyes having this knowing look in them tells her he did that shit on purpose. She chooses to ignore it and continue like nothing happened. Maybe it was time she took Lisa up on that offer on being fuck buddies.

A couple of days later Jungkook breaks the ice between them two. Jennie had been home early from classes when a knock on the door broke her out of her thoughts. She opened up and came face to face with Jungkook, “What do you want?” She deadpans, even though her actions say another thing as she steps to the side for him to enter.

“If you’re here for y/n she ain’t here, though I’m sure you don’t need my help in finding her since you’re always with her and shit.” Jennie waves her hand as she walks off without looking back at him, “Don’t fuckin’ make a mess or touch my shit.” She fully intends to go to her room but Jungkook calls out to her.

“Enjoyed the show last week?” Jungkook calmly replies.

Jennie stops in her tracks, “What show? You mean the movie we watched together?” She turns around and eyes him in distaste.

“You know what I’m talking about you little pervert.” Jungkook smirks, “I’m not fucking blind to the way you’ve been looking at my girl, and it’s not like I didn’t hear you go into the bathroom and just never go to your room after that.”

Her face heats up in embarrassment as she glares at Jungkook, “Fuck off Jungkook.”

“No really, did you enjoy watching her squirt all over my fingers and soaking the bed sheets? I bet you really wanted a taste of her creamy lil’ pussy. Bet you thought about how tight she’d feel around your fingers, makes you wanna have a taste for yourself don’t it?” He grins.

Jennie’s mind screams yes and for a second she nearly gives in and confesses. However, she’s just as prideful as she is horny, “The day I fuck her Jeon is the day you’ll be wishing you never spoke about it. Because just like that she’ll be playing for both teams when I’m through with her.” She watches his face fall and turn into something more serious, like he’s feeling threatened, “They always wanna come but they never wanna leave.” She winks and heads into her room.

.

“J-Jungkook..!” You cry out, voice high pitched and breathy as an even louder squelching noise resonates in the background.

He’s got his fingers knuckle deep inside of your slicked up pussy, thrusting them in and out at a mad pace. It’s so quick that your squirting out bits of slick whilst he fucks you with his fingers. Jungkook’s hell bent on getting you to cum for him, he looks pissed off and you can’t help but wonder why.

“Mmmm..!” You squeal out and shake under him, “S-Slow down Jungkookie,” you whimper out, “ ‘s too much!”

Jungkook does the complete opposite of what you asked and only speeds up, “Pussy’s all mine isn’t it baby? Say it for me, whose pussy is this?” He curls his fingers and searches for your g-spot, intending to abuse it.

You throw your head back and scramble to grip his wrist tightly, “Yours! It’s yours,” you sob out, “p-please..!” You feel tears well up in your eyes, “Jungkookie!”

“That’s right, all fuckin’ mine baby,” he growls and leans down to bury his face in your thighs, “all mine.” He repeats and takes your throbbing clit into his mouth.

You literally die and go to heaven. (And Jennie sits smug in her room because she’s the reason for your passing.)

TAGLIST: TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Secret: cbf!soap x f!reader

Johnny was grabbing the items out of his locker and packing up his backpack to meet you after school when his locker was slammed shut.

“Holly.” He gave her a sharp glance and she smiled.

Holly was part of The Mean Girls, the one who had stolen your bunny all those years ago, the one he called a daft cow and had no interest in even if she seemed to be interested in him.

Usually Jonny just ignored her, unless she was bullying you then he was stepping in to tell her to go away as politely as possible.

“Who are you going to prom with?” She wondered and he raised an eyebrow.

“You know who.” He scoffed and opened his locker again.

“Really? I thought you both were on the rocks.”

Johnny paused, his heart sinking and his stomach twisting up in knots. He didn’t think there was anything going on between the two of you but maybe he was wrong.

“What’re you talking about?”

“You two have been acting different around each other for a while now.”

He stared at her with confusion. There was nothing different between the two of you, nothing! You two still hung out all the time, still joked around and laughed…yeah maybe he stopped telling you about some of the serious stuff that goes on in his mind but that didn’t mean anything.

Did it?

“Look, we’re not friends but even I can tell that whatever’s going on between you has you a lot more quiet than usual.” She explained and he clenched his jaw. “Whatever’s going on she’s got you acting different.”

“Nothings going on…” he trailed and before he could stop the words were falling out his mouth. “I’m going into the military and she doesn’t like it.”

“Wait, you’re actually going?”

Johnny froze and swallowed hard.

He hadn’t told anyone, not even his own mother, that he had been accepted into the military. In just a month he’d be going into the military and starting his career.

He was going to tell you. He was just going to sit later rather than sooner. He had to come up with a way to tell you and to prepare himself for when you’d be disappointed.

And now he told Holly, the girl who had it out for you since fucking kindergarten.

“It doesn’t matter.” He slammed his locked and gave her a stern look. “Don’t tell her anything about this.”

“You know I wouldn’t be upset with for going into the military.”

Johnny felt disgust but said nothing as he walked away from her. He didn’t want to be with anyone else, he couldn’t imagine himself with anyone but you.

You were the only one he wanted, you were the only one he could imagine a life with in the future, despite your disapproval.

Maybe that’s why he put off telling you, he so badly wanted your support on his decision because it was the only thing that truly mattered to him. But it was hard to ask for it when he could hardly support you decisions, or lack thereof, for your future.

You didn’t have a plan, he knew you didn’t. For some reason it irritated him to no end because why didn’t you have a plan? Shoudlnt you want to have something to follow?

A bad part of his brain thought that you didn’t have one because you were hoping he’d give up on the military so you could follow him wherever he went. It was irrational but that’s what it looked like to him.

He was so caught up in his thoughts he nearly didn’t hear you call his name.

“Hey, you okay?” You wondered with concern.

You were always so good at reading him and he always had trouble hiding things from you.

Tell her, he demanded in his mind. Tell her now.

“I’m exhausted.” He smiled and let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “We should take a nap when we get to your place.”

You smiled and his chest hurt. He was going to miss that.

He was going to miss you.

“I’m glad you suggested it because I would’ve too.”

A/n: rewrote this three times HAHA love that for me

Tags: @elysian0612 @cassiecasluciluce @pepsicolacoochie

[anothermansjeans]

never give you peace

s.r x youtuber!reader

summary: during their first date, youtuber!reader feels the sudden anxiety that they can never give spencer peace

cw: little angst; hurt/comfort?? mentions of going to a restaurant, strangers coming up to reader, reader is in their head :( the smallest mention of the foyet/haley plot

wc: 855

a/n: hi!!!!!! i would LOVE to take requests for youtuber!reader and spencer!! PLEASE send them in! i love these two sm. inspired by peace by taylor swift!

++

You didn't know when it started happening– the random people walking up to you asking for photos– you just gradually started to get used to it after twenty or so times. Normally, it wouldn't bother you. The people who support you and the reason you make YouTube videos deserve the world in your eyes, but now that you're here, walking down the streets of D.C with Spencer on your first date… it was bothering you… just the tiniest bit!

It took a while for you and Spencer to get to this point. A lot of phone tag (you were both very busy people), you being out of town, and Spencer being out of town really put the two of you through the ringer. To say you deserved this moment of having a proper first date would be an understatement, which is why these two sweet girls walking up to you with shy smiles put you on edge.

“Hi! You're Y/N, right?”

You and Spencer were supposed to be at the small bistro not even a hundred feet away at this point. If you were by yourself, you would be ecstatic to talk to them. Maybe you're a shitty person (you're not. Spencer would later make sure to explain that you're allowed to have boundaries and that talking to strangers normally puts people on edge). Maybe for once, you wanted to not talk to the people who made your career possible. Maybe you feel too bad even thinking this way that the people pleaser is screaming to come out. “Uh… hi.”

“Do you mind taking a picture with us? We’re obsessed with your videos.”

You've been hyper aware of Spencer by your side the entire time. He’s never seen you in your element with followers. You have no clue if he's ever been through something like this with anyone he’s previously dated, but you want to assume this is all new to him and you're probably scaring him away as the seconds tick by.

You're only brought out of your thoughts when you hear Spencer speak up next to you. “Go ahead.”

“Okay…” The process was relatively quick. Spencer offered to take the photo, the girls thanked him profusely, and about five photos total were taken. When Spencer returns the phone the two turn back towards you with wide smiles plastered on their faces.

“Thank you so much! Have a nice night!”

And that was that. Except, it didn't feel like it was done. There was an awkward feeling settling over the two of you, but nothing was said as Spencer linked your arms back together and continued to walk to the bistro.

It was eating at you the entire time you've been in the restaurant. He never brought it up though, always steering the conversation to your shared interests and throwing in a fun fact now and then. It was right before the check came that you finally had enough with the all-consuming thoughts and blurted out the only thing you could truly focus on.

“I could never give you peace.”

“What…?” His wrinkled eyebrows did all of the talking.

“My… job. More people have been doing what those two girls did– asking for pictures. And I know how serious your job is, if people start asking for pictures of you too… I don't want to put you in that position.”

It was quiet for a moment. Although he was a genius, Spencer needed a moment to take in what you said. “Ditto.”

What? “What?” You slapped your hand over your mouth. You did not mean to say that out loud.

He didn't flinch, going straight into explanation. “My job is serious. Serial killer serious. My boss lost his wife because of this job. If you're worried about me in regards to your job, I’m worried out of my wits for you.”

“So… if we both can't provide peace?”

“It's a good thing I enjoy a little chaos.”

A small smile was shared between the two of you, and after the waiter dropped off the bill, you took another look at him. “Well, Dr. Reid, you really are a genius. You solved a majority of my fears with one small conversation.”

“It doesn't take a genius to see what he has in front of him has great

potential to be one of the best things in his life.”

A smirk appeared on your face when he shyly looked at you. “That good, huh? Does that mean I scored a second date?”

“Of course!” Spencer perked up, eyes immediately widening. “Did you know that the typical success rate for getting a second date is 13.7%, which gives a match an opportune time to learn the real chemistry between them and their match, including their values, passions, and family? First dates are actually–”

Sitting there, listening to him changed the smirk to a genuine smile. Maybe the two of you couldn't provide peace on the outside, but as he continues to speak passionately, you feel nothing warmth spread throughout you. The same type of warmth you feel at home; the same type of peace.

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Faking It | Part VIII

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

A/N: AHHH WE ARE AT THE GRAND FINALE!!! Y'all, I'm so sorry it took a galactic year but I hope you're still with me and that you enjoy this final episode of trope city. Thank you so much for all the support <3

Summary: Fake dating your friend, Bradley Bradshaw - what could possibly go wrong? Your sister is getting married and you need a date. You enlist Bradley's help and the rest is history.

CW: brief allusion to self-harm, swearing, making out, ANGST GALORE, fluff (not in any particular order)

Start from the beginning: Part I

Masterlist

“Are you cold?” Steven goes to take off his jacket.

“I’m fine,” you say impatiently. “Just get on with it, will you?”

Steven shrugs his jacket back on while you wrap your arms around yourself, holding in a shiver. The morning is much cooler than you expected it to be and there’s a white mist hanging over the surface of the placid water. Steven watches you pretend to be comfortable in your sundress under the moody skies. You’ve been pretending a lot lately.

“Today, Steven,” you say through gritted teeth because you’re clenching them to avoid them chattering.

He lets out a resolute sigh, looking down at the ground. He seems anxious. “Your boyfriend,” he says with a grimace, peering up at you briefly before reverting his gaze to the dock underfoot. “How well do you know him?”

You furrow your brows. “Excuse me?”

Steven purses his lips, kicking a stray pebble into the water. It makes a dull plopping sound before disappearing into the lake. “I suspected something was off the night of the bachelor party.”

“Not again.” You sigh irritably.

“He had very little to say about you,” he states. “Mostly just random trivia. Said you don’t like chocolate.”

You raise your eyebrows calmly without responding.

“When the guys asked how you got together, he clammed up. It was weird.”

You’re starting to regret your decision to talk to him. And you’re certainly no longer feeling sorry for him. “Do you have a point?”

Steven nods. “Then I went to see you. And you didn’t deny that this fling with your little aviator wasn’t all that serious.”

You find it ironic that Steven refers to Bradley as little considering Bradley is half a head taller than him, but you let it slide. “Your five minutes are almost up,” you respond coldly.

Steven watches you soberly, but something about the quirk of his eyebrow makes you think he might be enjoying himself. “He has a girlfriend,” he says.

You stare at him mutely, waiting for the air to return to your lungs. Slowly, everything inside of you begins to slide out of place, as if you’ve forgotten how to hold it all together. “What the fuck are you talking about?” you whisper. Meanwhile, every single moment you’ve ever experienced with Bradley Bradshaw filters through your mind as you desperately try to pick out the details that might have, in hindsight, served as clues. The hesitation to participate in your scheme; the reluctance to sleep in your bed; the aggravating lack of communication – isolated, these events might have been meaningless but, put together, they are questionable at the very least.

“Wasn’t difficult to figure out,” Steven continues, unaware that your brain is scrambling to put all the pieces together. “He’s all over her Instagram.”

“He doesn’t have an Instagram –”

“He’s not tagged, but it’s him alright. Some of your other pilot friends are also there, so…” Steven shrugs smugly, as if he’s performed a feat and is expecting commendation. When you don’t say anything, he decides to rub salt in the wound. “You know whose Instagram he’s not on?” he asks proudly. “Yours.”

You don’t bother looking up at him again. The bobbing dock starts to augment your vertigo and the gentle sway of your body in the breeze makes you feel strangely detached. You’re not thinking about Steven’s annoying tone, or his smug face, or even the gentle nudge he’s giving you to recapture your attention; you’re devising a plan of action for the next five hours, because that’s how long you will need to coexist with Bradley Bradshaw. After that, you will never have to deal with him again.

…

You make your way across the lawn unhurriedly, not keen on spending brunch pretending to still be enamored with your fake boyfriend. The escalating number of deceptions in what was originally a straightforward plot is making your head spin.

You see him leaning over the railing of the terrace, a beer in his hand. He’s staring out into the distance with a bit of a squint despite the dreary day. You hate how good he looks in his jeans and light, button-up shirt, the sleeves of which are rolled up to his elbows; you hate the languid movement of his arm as he takes a sip of his drink; the slow, graceful fashion with which he rests it back over the rail; the relaxed bend in his wrist. Everything about him suddenly seems despicable.

When he sees you, he gives you a smirk – the kind that sets your insides ablaze despite your growing resentment – and pushes off the railing to start in your direction. You let out a wavering sigh, trying to extinguish whatever lingering feelings you may have. You’ve resolved to omit the true purpose of Steven’s visit; you can’t imagine a worse time and place to air your dirty laundry than at your sister’s wedding brunch with an audience of your closest family members. So, you smile back at him as he skips down the steps – you’ve become quite proficient at pretending; what’s another few hours of faking it?

Bradley’s pace quickens as he cuts across the yard until he’s nearly running and, when he arrives, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into an embrace. He leans down to kiss you, but you inadvertently turn away and he ends up pecking your cheek. Mistake number one.

You give him another tense smile, taking a step back because his hands are much too casually exploring your rigid body. Mistake number two.

“So,” you say, nearly taking a chunk out of the inside of your cheek as you bite into it forcefully. “Cheat on anybody lately?” you ask tersely. Mistake number –

“Excuse me?” he says, taken aback.

So much for pretending. You watch him coldly as his expression transforms but, as it turns out, you have nothing else to add.

“What did he say to you?” Bradley asks, eyes darkening under his converging eyebrows.

You let out a derisive laugh.

“What did he say?” he repeats.

You glare at him. “You know exactly what he said.”

Bradley bristles. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

You watch him impassively, as if his betrayal has had zero effect on you. “Are you fucking serious, Bradley?”

Bradley’s offended expression turns to hurt as his eyes sweep over your features. “You’re not even going to let me explain?” he asks in a grating whisper.

You scoff, his words confirming that there is, in fact, something to explain. “Does she know you’re here?”

Bradley shifts his jaw, his eyes narrowing. He studies you quietly for a few moments.

“What baffles me,” you say. “Is how easy it’s been for you to just lie about it.”

“Wasn’t that the whole point of this?” he asks coolly.

You chuckle although his words sting. “You’re right. This was all an act and I’m just the idiot who fell for it.”

Bradley eyes you contemptuously but says nothing.

“You almost slept with me,” you whisper, your lips trembling as you concentrate on keeping your voice steady. “Don’t tell me that that was your objective this whole time.”

Bradley’s eyebrows crease as he tries to follow your line of reasoning. “You think I agreed to this ridiculous stunt just so I could possibly have an opportunity to fuck you?” he hisses. “Why would anyone put that much effort into one – not even guaranteed – fuck?”

You watch him angrily although he does make a valid point. “Why are you here, then?” you ask, trying desperately to keep your volume down. “You have a girlfriend!”

“First of all,” Bradley says stonily. “Had.”

“When?”

He lets out a sigh.

You shake your head at him with a disdainful smile and raise your eyebrows expectantly. “Yesterday? Last week?”

“I broke up with her after you asked me to come here.”

“Why?” You shrug indifferently as though you really couldn’t care less.

“You begged me to come.”

“I didn’t know you were seeing someone!” you bite back.

Bradley lifts his eyes to nod politely at your grandparents as they pass the two of you toward the stairs leading up to the terrace. Then he hooks his arm through yours and starts dragging you away from the venue toward the docks by the lake. You struggle against his grip, but he doesn’t let go until you’re far enough away from the crowd to be out of earshot. “So what?” he rounds on you in a low voice.

You stare at him in disbelief. “You didn’t tell me.”

“It didn’t come up.”

You scoff incredulously.

“You didn’t tell me about Steven.”

“That’s not the same thing. Steven and I haven’t been together in months.”

“This wasn’t supposed to be anything, Y/N,” he says roughly. “It was all fake. Why would I even think to tell you about her?”

You look down at his brown dress shoes as they sink into the red clay of the bank, feeling the unmistakable pressure of tears as your eyes begin to well up. “It was all fake, wasn’t it?” you mutter.

“No, that’s not” – the brown dress shoes take a step forward – “you know that’s not what I meant.”

“How long have you been with her?” you ask, cutting him off.

“What does that matter?” he says wearily.

“It matters,” you respond.

Bradley sighs and looks out at the lake over your shoulder. “Six months.”

You close your eyes and take a breath. “That’s a long time.”

He nods, sucking his cheeks in as his jaw shifts forward. He’s studying your face thoughtfully. “Your turn,” he says.

“What?”

He licks his lips. “How much of it was fake?”

You scoff again, shaking your head. “I’m not doing this.”

“So, it’s fine putting me on the spot, but you can’t answer a simple question?” he says irritably.

“I put you on the spot because you lied.”

Bradley watches you coldly. “When did it stop being fake, Y/N?”

“I don’t know!” you shout in frustration. “When did it stop being fake for you?”

Bradley stares at you blankly. He runs a hand over his face, looking down. He furrows his eyebrows before glancing back up at you with a bewildered expression, as though he can’t believe you’ve just posed exactly the same question he had asked you. “It was never fake for me,” he says hoarsely.

You stare at him as a flurry of emotions does a nauseating dance in the pit of your stomach. His answer has taken you by surprise and you can’t think of anything appropriate to say in return.

When you don’t respond, he adds, “You can’t possibly not already know that.”

You slowly shake your head, wanting more than anything to believe what he says. “How would I know?”

Bradley watches you in amazement, exhaling with a small laugh as he takes a couple steps toward you. He lifts his hand and places it tenderly on your cheek. “Two months ago,” he says. “I walk into the Hard Deck, just looking for a cold beer and a night off. And the first thing I see is you behind the bar.”

You feel yourself melting right into the palm of his hand, lulled by the smooth rasp of his voice.

“You’re new,” he says, and then chuckles. “You’re definitely new because you can’t tell an ale from a lager.”

You wrinkle your eyebrows. “A what from a what?”

Bradley grins briefly before continuing. “You’re fucking stunning,” he says in a throaty whisper. You feel his face drift closer to yours just as the wind picks up. He brings his other hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “And I come up to the bar and you haven’t even said a word to me yet, all you do is look up with these wild, frantic, most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen, as you’re desperately trying to figure out the exact ratio of gin to tonic in somebody else’s drink.” You bite your lip sheepishly, remembering your first night working the bar. Bradley smiles at the memory. “You’re meticulously measuring out the two ingredients – which tells me, right off the bat, that you’re an extremely conscientious person – and, after you’re done, you look me right in the eye and say, ‘You look thirsty.’”

You laugh through your tears. “I did not say that.”

Bradley chuckles. “You did. And I was,” he adds.

You snort at the insinuation but then Bradley’s hand begins to trail down your neck, disrupting your train of thought. His touch is disarming and you try your best not to sink into him despite every impulse to just give in. The truth is, there’s nothing he can say that will change the fact that he played both you and his ex. So, you bring your hand up and wrap it around his wrist, pulling it away from where his fingers are resting over your heart. “Doesn’t matter,” you say quietly. “None of it matters anymore.”

“How could you say that?” he asks, his breathing ragged.

You sigh mechanically, expertly keeping your emotions in check. “This changes everything,” you say. “I feel like I don’t know you, Bradley. I mean, I don’t know you.”

Bradley shakes his head. “That’s not true.”

You close your eyes as if not looking at him might make it easier. “You need to leave,” you whisper.

“Look at me,” he pleads.

You open your eyes and focus your gaze on the greenest grass you’ve ever seen. Only, today, it’s grey. Must be the weather.

“Y/N,” Bradley urges, his voice cracking in his desperation. “Look at me. Please.”

“No!” The force of your response surprises even you. “You have to go,” you say resolutely.

But as you start to walk away, you hear him calling out to you. “You owe me!”

You turn around in confusion. “What?” you say under your breath.

“You heard me,” he says, marching toward you with purpose. “You owe me. Anything I want, remember?”

You stare at him incredulously. “You can’t possibly –”

“I know what I want,” he says, taking several final strides toward you before clutching your hands and holding them in between his chest and yours. “I want you – I need you – to hear me out.”

You wince as his face nears yours. “That’s not fair,” you whisper.

“Please don’t do this,” he mutters. “Please don’t. I – I’m” – his face contorts uncomfortably as he searches for the right words – “I messed up,” he says. “I’m sorry. Please.” He rests his forehead on yours. “Please forgive me.”

The irony of suffering through a real breakup with your fake boyfriend is not lost on you. It’s absurdly painful considering you’ve only realized you had feelings for this man mere days ago. But it’s not just Bradley’s towering build; not just his sculpted arms and chiselled chest that give you pause. It’s every little thing he’s ever said and done. It’s the pepper spray, the heels, the pillow wall; it’s the dancing, the kiss; it’s the way he looks at you. It’s Bradley.

You taste the salt of your own tears as they slip into your parted mouth. You want to kiss him so badly, just a little, just for a moment, just one last time. And as his lips hover hesitantly over yours you realize why. It’s simple, really. You’re in love with Bradley Bradshaw. How reckless of you. How wildly inconvenient.

…

You wipe at the spotless counter aggressively as your mind wanders once again to that fateful day three weeks ago when you did not, in fact, get to kiss Bradley Bradshaw just one last time. Not even for a moment, not even a little bit.

“It’s clean, I think,” you hear a voice at the other end of the bar. You glance up to see Jake Seresin slide out a barstool and take a seat at the counter.

“Didn’t hear you come in,” you respond, glancing at the clock. It’s barely eleven and the place is deserted. You walk toward him reluctantly, having encountered neither Bradley nor any of his friends since the day of the brunch. “Lost another bet, Seresin?” you ask, eyeing the wide brim of his tan cowboy hat.

He smirks, lifting the hat off his head and setting it down on the bar. “Funny.”

You toss your towel under the bar and place your hands on the counter. “What can I get you?”

“Oh, I’m not here to drink,” he says.

You sigh quietly, reaching for your towel again. The truth is, you haven’t gone a single day without thinking about what could have been if you hadn’t stopped the kiss. If you hadn’t pushed Bradley away. If Bradley hadn’t hurled Steven into the lake.

You glance up at Jake as he fiddles with something in his hands. He eyes you pointedly. “I think you know why I’m here,” he says.

…

“Why are you still here?”

The booming voice of your ex-boyfriend rouses you, effectively disrupting the moment you’re having with Bradley. You withdraw from the embrace, separating your hands from his as you step away.

Bradley is shaking his head. “Don’t listen to him,” he begs.

You blink up at him with a sniffle and wipe your eyes. “He’s not the problem,” you say.

Bradley juts out his jaw as Steven steps into his field of vision. “I asked you a question,” Steven says forcefully.

Bradley watches him coldly. “Don’t start with me, Steven,” he says quietly.

“You’re not welcome here anymore,” Steven continues, bringing his shoulders back as he tries to tower over Bradley.

“Steven, stop” – you try to intervene, but Bradley cuts you off.

“I said,” Bradley hisses as he straightens his back to reciprocate the gesture. “Don’t start with me.”

Steven chuckles. “What are you going to do? Hit me?”

Bradley turns away. “You’re not worth it.”

Just when you start to think that the matter will work itself out peacefully, however, Steven shoves Bradley in the back, sending him stumbling slightly downhill. Bradley regains his footing just as Steven comes after him and blocks his subsequent attack, pushing him away. “I’m not fighting you!” Bradley roars.

“Steven, stop it!” you shout, running after them as Steven continues trying to provoke Bradley.

“What’s the matter?” Steven asks nastily. “Did I blow your cover, hotshot?”

Bradley narrows his eyes and his hands curl instinctively into fists. He looks like he’s about to snap. “Bradley!” you scream.

…

“Bradley,” you say calmly, meeting Jake’s gaze.

Jake nods. “I’m going to have to be honest,” he says. “Living with him has become unbearable. And, well, we blame you.”

You roll your eyes. “That’s not my problem.” You drop the dishtowel onto the counter and start wiping anew.

Jake’s hand lands over the cloth and he yanks it out of your grasp. “Listen here,” he says. “I don’t know how he fucked this up because he won’t say a goddamn word about it. But you’re gonna tell me what happened because I’m tired of this mess y’all made.”

“I didn’t do anything,” you say.

“I highly doubt that,” Jake says with an insincere smile. “The guy’s fucking in love with you, there’s no way he left you of his own accord.”

“The guy had a girlfriend of six months he didn’t think to tell me about,” you lash out at Jake, wiping the grin right off his face. “He’d been coming to the Hard Deck almost daily for two whole months without even mentioning her existence. And then he had the audacity to tell me he liked me from the moment we met? Either he was the shittiest boyfriend ever or he wasn’t as into me as he claims to have been. In any case, he’s a liar.”

…

“I didn’t lie about anything,” Bradley says steadily, watching Steven advance toward him once more. “There was no cover to blow.”

“Please!” Steven cackles. “The two of you fabricated an entire relationship!”

You close your eyes, much too tired to pretend any longer. If Steven is hellbent on divulging this particular secret, you aren’t going to be the one to stop him.

Bradley glares at Steven. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He turns to look at you somberly. “I love you! I have been in love with you since day one,” he says. “I don’t even remember what not loving you feels like.”

“But you had a girlfriend,” you say agonizingly.

He nods, his eyes filling with tears. “Yeah,” he admits. “I did.”

…

“He’s not a liar, he’s a victim of circumstance,” Jake reasons.

You blink at him skeptically. “Is the circumstance that he’s an asshole?”

Jake snorts. “Maybe I will have a drink,” he says, scrunching up his nose.

You sigh and reach for a tumbler. You set it down on the polished counter and, giving Jake a pointed look, reach to grab a second one. He chuckles as you pour the whiskey.

“Neat,” he comments. “Just the way I like it.”

You sigh and down the glass with a straight face. “Why didn’t he just end things with her sooner?”

Jake sets his drink down after taking a swig. He narrows his eyes. “Wait, he didn’t tell you?”

…

“Tell him, Y/N,” Steven says forcefully. “Tell him to get the fuck out of here before I beat the shit out of him.”

“Steven, stop it!” you cry. You turn to Bradley with a frown. “You should go,” you say quietly.

Bradley shakes his head. “I’m not leaving.”

“You heard her!” Steven yells, lunging forward to give Bradley yet another push.

But Bradley completely ignores the attack. He continues watching you miserably as though he hasn’t just been unceremoniously displaced by an angry meathead. “You don’t want me to go,” he pleads with you.

You drop your head, closing your eyes. “I do,” you lie.

“It doesn’t matter what she wants,” Steven steps in between the two of you obnoxiously.

“Steven, for fuck’s sake, just leave!” you scream.

Steven rounds on you aggressively. “I’m trying to help you, you ungrateful cunt!”

But before you can respond with a few choice words of your own, Steven is yanked from the spot and launched into the lake like a frisbee. You gasp as he hits the water while Bradley just folds his arms and watches the ripples, waiting to see if Steven can swim.

…

“He tried breaking up with her,” Jake says, watching you cautiously as though he’s unsure whether he should be sharing this information with you.

You furrow your eyebrows. “When?”

Jake sighs and adjusts his posture, getting more comfortable in his seat. “They were on the rocks way before you came into the picture,” Jake says. “He’d tried breaking up with her several times actually, including the night he met you.”

“What do you mean ‘tried’?”

Jake narrows his eyes. “Why didn’t he tell you this?”

“Tell me what?”

…

“Are you happy now?” you yell over the lapping of the water.

Bradley turns to look at you wearily. “Less annoyed,” he says stoically.

“Well, now that we’ve managed to completely ruin my sister’s brunch,” you say, glancing up at the crowd of spectators gathered on the edge of the patio, “you’re free to go.”

You hear some sputtering near the dock as Steven tries to drag himself out of the water. Bradley nods, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I would’ve told you about her,” he says. “I would’ve told you everything.”

…

“She wouldn’t let him break up with her,” Jake says, carefully studying your reaction.

“What do you mean ‘wouldn’t let him’?” you ask.

“Pour another round,” Jake says.

You sigh sharply. “Just spill it, Seresin,” you grumble impatiently, grabbing the bottle of whiskey.

“She threatened to hurt herself.”

You freeze mid-pour and look up at him in shock.

“That’s enough for me, thanks,” he says, reaching for the bottle still tipped in your hand.

“I’ll have it then,” you say, sliding the full glass of whiskey toward yourself. Silently, you lift it to your lips and take a giant gulp.

“Easy,” Jake says with a cringe, pulling the tumbler out of your hand.

“So,” you breathe, staring blankly at the bar. “He was stuck.”

“He was stuck,” Jake confirms.

…

“I’m stuck!” Steven calls from the end of the dock.

You huff in frustration and give Bradley one last menacing look. “Just go already, will you?” you say tiredly, heading out onto the dock to help Steven out of the water. By the time Steven is on land and you turn around, Bradley is gone.

You glance over at the terrace where the crowd has started to disperse while Steven wrings out his clothes. You consider for a moment running after Bradley; catching him before he packs to leave. But then you feel Steven’s cold hands snaking around your midriff and you squirm.

“What are you doing?” you yelp, jerking away.

“Baby, just admit that you want me back,” he says lazily. “I just saved you from that asswipe. Don’t be a bitch now.”

You turn around in outrage and, just as Steven flashes his phoney grin, you push him back into the lake.

…

“So, how was he finally able to do it?” you ask, plopping a couple of ice cubes into your drink.

“He got lucky,” Jake replies. “He caught her cheating.”

You scoff. “Lucky.”

Jake shrugs. “Well, under the circumstances. He just wanted out.”

You stare at the ice melting in your whiskey. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me.”

“Did you give him a chance?” Jake asks, gulping down the rest of his drink and rising from his seat.

You look up at him guiltily.

Jake clears his throat and places several bills on the bar. He taps on the counter a couple of times with his palm and then says, “He’s distracted in the air, Y/N. I’m worried about him.”

It makes you sick to think of Bradley unfocused in the cockpit, and you’re repulsed that it’s never occurred to you before, considering how often you daydream about the events of that unfortunate weekend. Of course, he’s been thinking about it. Of course, it’s been distracting him. You close your eyes and lower your head.

“Just talk to him, will ya?” Jake says.

You swallow uneasily, wondering what the fuck you could possibly say to Bradley after having completely blown him off, but you nod anyway. The least you could do is apologize.

After Jake leaves, you notice a folded piece of paper together with the bills he’s left behind. You pick it up to examine it. It’s your list – the one you’d given Bradley so that he could learn to be a more convincing fake boyfriend. You unfold it to find that he’s added his own notes to accompany yours. Things like, ‘this is absurd and you know it’ in response to ‘I don’t like chocolates but I love chocolate cake’ and ‘sounds like somebody else I know’ in response to ‘steer clear of Aunt Barb – she’s very pushy’.

You smile grimly, realizing how badly you’ve fucked up.

…

The next morning, you get permission from Penny’s boyfriend, Maverick, to visit the hangar while the squad trains. You’re sitting at one of the desks, listening to the boom of military aircraft as you nervously twiddle your thumbs in your lap. When you hear the unmistakable yelps of excited pilots just outside the hangar, you let out an anxious sigh and stand up.

As you’re rising from your seat, you see Bradley amidst the group of cheerful aviators, smiling and nodding as one of them claps him on the back. When he notices you, however, his smile falters and he slows to a halt, staring at you in disbelief. He’s got his helmet tucked under his arm and a chute bag slung over his shoulder and you realize that you’ve never seen him in his flight suit and that perhaps, if you had, you’d have fallen for him much sooner.

The other aviators look on as he starts removing his gear while walking toward you. The expression on his face is so intense that your already galloping heart feels like it might spring right out of your body. He sets his helmet down on a desk and approaches you slowly, his dark eyes searching yours carefully.

You gulp uneasily when he nears; the relief of having him stand right before you is something you hadn’t expected. Even given the currently ambiguous status of your relationship, being close to him feels right.

“Uh,” you utter. Good strong start. You close your eyes and try again. “Umm.” You shake your head and blink up at him.

Bradley lifts his eyebrows sympathetically but doesn’t say anything.

“Can I talk to you?” you blurt out breathlessly.

Bradley drops his gaze and your heart sinks. He hates you, obviously, and you’re an idiot for coming. But a moment later, he looks up from under his winkled brows and nods.

He places a couple of fingers on your arm and, as you try to suppress a shudder at the subtle contact, he nudges you softly, leading you toward the back of the hangar where you could have a private conversation behind a couple of parked jets undergoing maintenance.

Once you’re alone, you find it hard to look him in the eye. Bradley’s hand drops away from where he’s holding your elbow, but his fingertips trail down your arm and catch briefly on your fingers before he lets go.

“Bradley,” you say quietly. “I don’t even know where to start,” you admit.

Bradley moves closer, his head so low that you can feel his breath on your cheek. The torment of being this close and not touching him is probably exactly what you deserve, so you decide to suffer through it in silence. Until, that is, he brings a hand up, lifting your chin with a couple of fingers. His eyes glance over your face before meeting your gaze. “Let’s just start over,” he says.

You look at him in wonder as his hand glides up your arm. “How?” you whisper. “I’m already in love with you.”

For a moment, Bradley is completely still, watching you intently. The look of sheer want on his face absolutely paralyzes you because the concept of mutual desire where Bradley is concerned is something you’re still struggling to accept. You blink at him mutely, forgetting altogether that you came here to apologize, not ogle him in his flight suit and mentally undress him without a moment’s respite.

Bradley lowers his face, furrowing his eyebrows as he glances down at your lips. You notice the tightening grip on your arm as his breathing grows heavy; the slight incline of his head as his other hand drifts weightlessly up the back of your neck.

He makes you weak and he muddles your thoughts and how could you possibly be expected to remember something as superfluous as an apology when his eyes are begging you to just kiss him already? You let out a breathy whine, twisting your hands into the material of his flight suit and pulling yourself into him until your lips meet his.

Bradley exhales sharply, bringing his hands up to your face as he steps forward. You let him steer you into the wall in behind, clinging onto his wrists as he cups your cheeks. His tongue pushes into your mouth as his hands drop down to your waist and slip underneath your tank top, squeezing your flesh.

You melt into his touch; you want his hands all over you, clutching you, catching you, holding you. A soft moan travels from your mouth into his as his fingers dig into your body, and he presses you into the wall with a shaky sigh.

“Bradley,” you murmur as he grasps your ribcage.

“Baby,” he breathes, his thumbs gently stroking the band of your bra. His ‘baby’ is so soft, so different than Steven’s, it’s like an entirely new word. And you don’t want anybody other than Bradley to ever call you ‘baby’ again.

“Bradley, I’m so sorry,” you whisper. “I’m sorry that I wouldn’t listen to your side of the story.”

“Baby,” he mutters again. He lifts his eyes to look at you achingly. “I’m so fucking in love with you.” He takes your hands and brings them to his lips, holding them against his mouth. “I don’t care about anything else.”

You smile at him, grateful that he isn’t holding a grudge. “Kiss me again,” you say, pulling on the collar of his flight suit.

Bradley grins, towering over you as he brings his arms above your head and around your back. He kisses you gently this time, like he’s finally confident that you won’t vanish the moment he lets go. It’s warm and sensuous and lingering, it’s his lips pausing to appreciate every taste and every breath and every texture. It’s the rhythm of his tongue, excruciatingly slow, searching for ways to make you moan.

He pulls you closer, tighter; holds you firmer. You sigh into his mouth, you whine for more, you claw into the fabric of his suit. He reciprocates your urgency, driving you back into the wall with force and pressing his mouth hungrily to yours. You gasp, throwing your head back as his messy kisses trail down your neck, as his hands grope every part of you with fervor until you’re almost too weak to stand.

“Y/N,” he pants into your neck. “If we don’t relocate in the next few minutes, I’m going to end up being dishonorably discharged for indecent exposure.”

You giggle as he kisses you repeatedly along your collarbone. You would like nothing more than to relocate so that the two of you can be indecent together. “It’ll have to wait,” you say, stroking his hair as he growls in response.

“I’m not waiting any longer,” he mutters into your neck.

You laugh and shake you head.

“Come home with me. I just need a minute to grab my things.” He pulls insistently on your waist.

“I’ve got work,” you say mournfully. “My shift starts in half an hour.”

Bradley looks at you in alarm, as though the prospect of spending the next several hours apart is unacceptable. “Take the day off.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Sure, you can. Tell Penny you’re feeling sick.”

“I’m not feeling sick,” you respond disapprovingly.

He squints his eyes at you with a mischievous smirk. “Fake it.”

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[genshin-impact-unofficial]

Naughty Little Secret Pt.2

Reactions of Genshin men finding your spicy literature.

Ft. Childe, Albedo, and Alhaitham  (Aka blue eyed boy edition)

(PART 1) Ft. Diluc, Cyno, and Thoma  (PART 3) Ft. Scaramouche, Itto, and Xiao

Tags: PG-13, Sexual Themes, GN!Reader, Technically SFW, Crushes, TW!Blood (Albedo) but it’s very mild, LOTS OF TEASING Notes: I swear my first time writing a character always turns out so long. I so appreciate everyone cheering me on tho! Feel free to send suggestions to my inbox! 💘(Repost!)

Childe

Spicy romance novels were your guilty pleasure. After a rough week at work, you deserved to sit back at Yanshang Teahouse and let the flow of words on the pages guide your imagination. You held your newest purchase in your hand and pondered if the cover art was a coincidence. Perhaps deep down, you subconsciously picked the book with a pretty ginger boy on the cover.

Tartagalia hadn’t visited Liyue in a while... and maybe there was a part of you that missed the tall handsome Snezhnayan boy just a tiny bit. You were a tad totally heartbroken when your friend departed from the harbor. He would come by your work quite often just to chat and whenever he had time to kill. Eventually, his company and charming words just became a part of your routine. It was impossible not to be dazzled by the boy’s abundant attention. But as time passed and you felt confident that you were completely over your little crush. You shook your head of those thoughts, it wasn’t important why you chose the book you did. You were here to enjoy yourself and you were hell bound to do just that.

The orange haired protagonist finds himself swept up in trouble much bigger than himself. To protect what’s dearest to him, he becomes a spy to an organization he holds no loyalty to. While behind enemy lines, he meets a girl who sees right through the mask he puts on. She not only figures out he’s a spy, but also sees his bleeding heart that has the ability to turn for the better. Your heart ached for the boy. The way he was stuck between his duties and who he loved made you feel endless sympathy for the protag. He had to betray one in the end to accomplish the other. 

His mission was going to be completed in the morning. After that, he would never see the girl again. The handsome ginger spilled his feeling, laying himself out bare to the girl he loved. She knows, she always did, and she wanted to show him now on their last night. Emotions flood forward as their bodies tangle with one another. He wants her to feel his earnest passion.  He wants to bring her joy, to bring her the happiness she deserved, to bring her pleasure...  A low familiar whistle pulled your mind from the scene. No way...

“Huh, so this is what you do while I’m away...” A cheeky voice teased. You whipped your head to look at the widest shit eating grin that you’ve ever seen since.... well since he left.  

“Tartagalia? What- When did you?” You were reeling and sputtered in surprise and embarrassment. You attempted redirect his attention and tuck the novel behind you as a last ditch effort to save your pride. But alas, Ajax was not known to be a merciful guy.  

“Ah ah ah Y/N, I hadn’t got a good look at that last page. I just have to know about those ‘rippling abs’ mentioned.” Childe playfully reached behind you and snagged the book from your grip. You tried to swipe it back but his reflexes were too fast. “You don’t mind sharing right?”

“I’m serious give it back Childe!”  You threatened, but it only spurred him further. He had a whole head up on you, and was talking full advantage of it. Childe held the book open above you and dramatically cleared his throat before reciting naughty lines from the passages. Your felt your face burn red in both embarrassment and now absolute fury. 

This kid was so dead!

Albedo

There was urgency in your steps while you trekked through the snowy path. You visited Dragonspine enough times to know the beaten trail even when covered in fresh snow, but it was still your least favorite part of coming to the lab. If you had to list your favorite part, well...... your friend Albedo wasn’t exactly terrible to look at. You were glad to see him again so soon. Typically, you purposely spaced out your visits up the mountain, but when you received a letter asking for your assistance in a research matter you really couldn’t say no. 

As junior librarian of the knights, you were tasked with dropping off books and other study material to Albedo’s lab. It’s a grueling task but the two of you got along very well so you were always happy to do it. That being said, you weren’t exactly a person of science and opted reading into history and arts most times. Through years of knowing Albedo, you had to set a clear cut boundary on being a test rat for the alchemist. So far he has respected your wishes, so you didn’t assume it was why he’d call you out here. The curiosity was almost as bad as the blistering cold hitting your nose. As soon as the light illuminating from the lab was in view, you rushed forward desperate for warmth. 

“Y/N, I’ve been awaiting you.” Albedo greeted you kindly. 

“Hey Albe-” The words died in your throat when you caught sight of your friend. The blond’s hair was free from its usual up-do, messy locks framed the boys handsome features and flowed over his shoulders. Albedo’s neat attire was now lax, his knightly accessories nowhere to be seen. What could be seen was the expanse of the alchemist’s collarbone since two additional buttons were undone on his dress shirt. Somehow even while fully clothed, it felt indecent to witness him like this. “Is... everything alright Albedo?” You asked, averting your eyes to keep from ogling your friend. 

“Of course.” Albedo answered easily, his voice was low and sultry. “Please take a seat Y/N. I have something urgent that needs your eyes.” He directed you, cocking his head towards the small table. Your brain was short circuiting and all you could think to do was obediently sit. You had never seen the serious and calculated man like this but you weren’t exactly complaining either. Albedo served you a cup of hot tea and opted to lean against the table instead of sitting. 

“So... um what did you need me to look at.” You asked awkwardly, unsure what to do with yourself. 

“Well obviously I want you to look at me Y/N” A light smirk formed across Albedo’s lips and he smoothly leaned over your chair. Your eyes followed every single movement while your face quickly began to heat up. Where was all of this coming from? Should you be concerned? 

“W- what do you mean by that?” You blurted out, mind racing a mile a minute.

“I want you to-” Everything came to a screeching halt when your chair, that Albedo had been leaning on, began to tilt backwards. Both you and blond were sent crashing to the ground, ruining any kind of mood that was building. Your head ached from where you bumped it but Albedo intentionally took the brunt of it, completely face-planting into the hard floor. 

“Albedo are you alright??” You hovered over him. The boy simply turned to you and blinked. His stoic expression was more akin to what you typically were used to. 

“I apologize Y/N. It seems I didn’t fully grasp the concepts in the experiment before executing it. Are you hurt?” He stood up and carefully helped you to your feet. He examined you for any signs of injury, regardless of his obviously bleeding nose. 

“Im good, the chair broke most of my fall. You on the other hand...” You grabbed a handkerchief and try to assist him. “Wait... experiment? Is that what this is all about?” You accused, slightly irked. 

“Yes, I saw a fascinating book among the study material you left behind recently. I assumed that it was a new subject you had recommended for me.” Albedo stated simply. “Its contents was um... quite intimate at times, but I thought it was a interesting perspective on forming human connections.” You felt froze, but this time not from the blistering cold. 

“Did the book have um.... did it have a pair of cuffs on the front?” You asked, praying to the archons that you were mistaken.

“Yes, I studied it extensively.” Albedo replied without a hint of shame on his features.  You replayed his interactions and what had just transpired in your head and looked back over to your friend.

“Okay two things. One, don’t you dare breathe a word to anyone about that book or else I’ll be very upset with you. And two, that was fucking hilarious.” You bursted out in laughter at the absurdity of the whole happenstance. Albedo gazed back at you confused, but your amusement was undeniably infectious. He smiled fondly back at you. Although the experiment couldn’t be labeled a success, the outcome was still one he found pleasing.  

Alhaitham

It was grueling working in the Akademiya recently. The overthrow of power left everyone with plenty to do. You would go mad from attending meeting after meeting if you didn’t have some sort of stress outlet. Writing was a way you liked to ease your mind, like an escape of sorts. You loved writing loose plots for light novels and dreamed to one day send an entry to the “Wow This Novel is Amazing!” contest in Inazuma. You were far from a finished manuscript, but it’s days like these that gave you inspiration. After working through piles of paperwork, you earned yourself a moment of indulgence. Especially when stress was eating you alive, your scenes tended to take a turn for the... suggestive. 

The scene opened to the main character pondering why their mentor kept themselves at arms length. She respected him immensely and strives to uphold his reputation by improving her skill. He was young and handsome, skilled far beyond his years. They held a close bond, closer than either of them have ever experienced. Now it was unclear why he was giving her such a cold shoulder. She confronts her mentor about the reasons behind his actions. He expresses his pride in her, how she has come far in the their time together. But for her to achieve new highs, she must leave him behind. His feelings for her would only be a hindrance now. 

She felt the tension between them for some time now. It was lingered in soft bushes between fingers, meaningful glances over meals, and caring gestures done without thinking. She’s fallen for the beautiful man, to a point that it wasn’t logical. No words need to be exchanged, only body heat. Arms hold onto the other in yearning desperation. Lips hungrily meet, as if they’ll never to be sated. Her want clouds all her senses and she could feel his willingness to give her everything, all of him. Hot needy breaths trail down her body, discarding any clothes that stood barrier, until he finally put his mouth directly on- 

“Busy Y/N?” The amused man asked from the doorway. You jump in response, quickly pushing aside the parchment that you were writing on. 

“Alhaitham! What are you doing here?” You pipe up, surprised to see your friend for more than one reason. Alhaitham had been promoted to acting grand sage while the rest was still settling, he had to be incredibly busy. 

“I see you’re not very excited to see me,” Alhaitham teased, strolling casually into your office anyway. “Even after I went through the trouble of coming to grab the data reports myself and pay you a visit.” He tsked. 

“You came to see me? Ah, so you need a favor.” You playfully jabbed back, easily finding comfort in the other’s company. It really had been quite a while. If it weren’t for the man’s inflated ego, you might have told him that you’ve missed him. 

“You wound me. It’s not an oddity for colleagues reconnect reminisce while also carrying out an errand for the acting great sage.” Alhaitham replied smoothly, not bothering to go through the motions and pretend to act hurt.

“Yikes, already pulling the ‘acting great sage’ card.” You chuckle. Alhaitham and you have worked closely together for years, so you didn’t mind going out of your way to do him a favor. But maybe one day he would learn that all he had to do was ask nicely. 

“It would be foolish to not use the assets as they are presented to me.” The former scribe shrugged. He opened his mouth as if to continue the witty banter, but a beep from on his person alerted him of something. “I’ll have to brief you later. I’ll just take the data reports and be on my way.”

“Right, here it goes.” You handed him the prepared stack of papers on your desk and just like that Alhaitham was gone, off to his next endeavor. Wow he really is swamped now a days. You thought, ready to get back into your writing. Ideas kept flowing through you as you looked for the parchment you just had.... Wait it was just right here. Oh no.

-

“ALHAITHAM! I NEED THE DATA REPOR-” You barged into acting grand sage’s office, which was no easy feat. You were stopped again and again by all the matra crawling about. Your mouth ran dry when spotted the parchment in the smirking man’s hands. You wished the floor would just open up and swallow you whole so that you wouldn’t have to look at that cocky handsome face. 

“The data report? Certainly, it’s right over there on the desk.” Alhaitham stated, not bothering to take his eyes off your handwriting. “I’m still going over some of it now and I have to say, it’s quite in depth.” He went on.

“You are such a jerk! Give it!” You resorted to trying to snatch it, but the former scribe easily turned away without sparing you even a single glance. You knew what he wanted and damn did it feel like making a deal with the devil. “I’ll owe you a favor, no questions asked. Just hand it over and keep your mouth shut.” 

“Two favors.” He bargained without batting an eye.

“You’re pushing it-”

“One is for my silence and the other for the safe return of your... passion project.” Alhaitham interjected, finally tearing his eyes from your writing to shoot you a glance above the paper. You willed a stern expression onto your face, even while a furious blush bloomed cross your cheeks. A curt nod sealed the agreement and the man casually returned the parchment to you as promised. You snatched the paper from him and averted your gaze.

“Y/N you have quite the knack for imagery.” Alhaitham added slyly. You expected he would tease you a little longer, so you braced yourself for the worst. What you did’t expect was the tall man to lean over you with his hand braced on the desk. Your eyes shot up to his in surprise. “If you’re ever in need for another peer review, I’d be happy to offer my services.” He winked. 

<A/N: These men need to be stopped>

[jinkookspencil]

til you make it | jjk

jungkook is startled when you call him in need of a favor... to play his dream role - your boyfriend - for a day...

tags/description: jk x chubby reader / fluff / friends to lovers / fake dating trope / rating: like pg13 or 15 with swear words / slow paced / it feels like one very long date :)) / this can be read as a oneshot but it ends in a way that sets up a part 2 which i will likely write but i still haven't gotten the chance to do so please bear with me / image from koomoments, i found it on goggle and edited it further

words: ~7.7k

tw+note: this fic includes fatshaming - detailed description: someone makes a comment about jk being out of oc/yn’s league and her not being good enough to date jungkook because of her size (the person says this to jk, behind oc/yn's back). oc/yn assumes people think that too, and talks to jungkook about her experiences dating as a plus-sized woman, mainly the fact that her ex was ashamed to go out with her. and in case anyone is wondering about where this fic comes from and any sensitivities regarding this fic, this is another fic that is loosely based on an experience i had myself... well, i wish this was what i had ~.~ i channeled my hurt into something comforting for myself and hopefully others. if anyone has ever been in a similar position and was fat-shamed or made to feel like they don't deserve good things because of your size, just know that you never deserved that treatment - you deserve all the good the world has to offer. lots of love always to my fellow curvy/plus/chubby people, and anyone who takes the time to read my fics <3

“Jungkook… Jungkook are you there?”

Your muffled voice echoed through his phone, thrown on the bed behind him as he searched his room frantically for his sweatpants. Talking to you on the phone wasn’t uncommon, but he jumped the moment he saw your name and when the clock on his bedside table confirmed the time. 3 AM. Later than you’d ever called. Dressing might’ve been a silly notion, but at this hour, his fight or flight response was triggered, and he couldn’t bring himself to think, let alone talk to you half-dressed. The urgency and/or intimacy of it all… frightened him.

“Yes! I’m here!” he calls out, hopping into his sweatpants before grabbing the phone and putting you up to his ear, feeling the cool glass of his screen nudged between his neck and his shoulder as he tied the strings at his stomach. “What’s up?”

“I need… a favor.”

“Anything.” He couldn’t have answered any faster. In the back of his mind, Jungkook hoped you’d called for another late-night talk, maybe one of your delirious, exhaustion-caused conversations where you’d fall asleep to his voice as he played along with whatever you’d wanted to talk about… Those were his favorites, even doing the same to you himself. Or maybe it was to inquire about one of his ramen recipes, going so far as to hope you’d ask him to come over and make it for you… In a perfect world, maybe. Well, if it were a perfect world, it’d be a confession.

A favor only made his heart race faster. Jungkook trusted his intuition in getting dressed, already walking to his front door, ready to go to you wherever you were... He already presumed you weren't drunk in a club and in need of someone to pick you up... you didn’t sound like it. The ramen recipe, perhaps? Though you sounded too anxious for it to be so. In any case, he meant his words - he’d do anything for you…

“It’s not serious, but it will take up some of your time tomorrow.”

“I said anything,” he reiterates, partly relieved.

“I’m invited to a wedding next week - my sister's best friend - and I need to get a dress. Do you mind coming to the mall with me tomorrow…”

That’s it? Jungkook joyously helped you pick out outfits, accessories, and even nail polish colors in the past, and every time he did - whether you’d asked or when he’d subtly recommended something he liked to you - his heart would flutter whenever he’d seen you actually take his advice, so he’d definitely agree, happily even…. but there had to be more to it.

“Well, I mean, of course….” he whispered quietly into the phone, his confusion apparent.

“Yeah, there’s more to it - don’t agree just yet...” In the moment of silence that followed, Jungkook silently prayed you’d ask him to go to the wedding with you. To be your plus one. Oh, what he’d give to spend the night beside you, the both of you all dolled up… Imagining the possible starlights at the scene with love in the air, he knew it’d be a great chance at finally confessing. If he chickened out, at least he’d be able to imagine what it’d be like to be your boyfriend for a night.

“Would you…. Would it be okay if you pretended to be my boyfriend?” Jungkook felt his stomach turn at the thought of the heavens answering his prayers that quickly and immediately regretted not asking for more. He almost missed what you’d said next. “If we go shopping tomorrow…. Would it be okay for you to pretend to be my boyfriend?”

“When… when we go shopping?” Jungkook choked, knowing you could hear his confusion through the phone once again.

“Yeah… You see… Most times when I go shopping… someone always has something to say about my body, and I’m kind of sick of it. ‘You won’t find anything in our store. Please leave.’ ‘I’m surprised this fits you.’ And then, just last week, I got the ‘Honey, no dress could flatter you enough that you’d be able to pull a man.’ That got me thinking, and…. I kinda suspect you, or someone, a man, being there with me might shut them up… some weird form of using the patriarchy and people’s internalized misogyny to, weirdly enough, protect my peace.”

Jungkook felt his blood boil as you went on. You, the most beautiful person he’d ever met, were being shamed… spoken to in that way…. often? People went out of their way to make you feel bad…. for having a body?

“What the fuck…”

“Yeah… I’m a bit embarrassed, actually… Should we forget it? Pretend I never asked. If it’s too much, I could just go alone - if I experience it, I experience it. I’m used to it. I just want to… try this as an experiment.”

“Don’t ever feel embarrassed. You don’t have to be. I feel embarrassed for not… for not knowing... I’m so fucking sorry you… ever had to go through that.” He’d felt a pang in his heart as the words left his mouth. An idiot was what he thought he was. It was something he’d never spared a thought about - how people, how you, could be mistreated in everyday life for simply existing as you were….

“No, don’t be sorry, Jungkook. It is what it is.”

It is what it is? It shouldn’t be, he thought.

“Of course I’ll be there, ____. Of course, I’ll be your boyfriend.” He told you he’d do anything for you, and he meant it - he needed you to know that - and this was the very least he could do. “And hey, for the record, I’ll never let that ever happen to you again, you hear me? You just call me, okay? Anytime. I’ll do whatever I can. You’re not going through this shit again, okay? I'm your boyfriend whenever you want me to be... ”

Did you take the hint?

“Thanks, Jungkook,” you say, with an exhale and a slight giggle that gives away that you’d been choked up, the final nail in the coffin for Jungkook’s composure…

It wasn't the right time to confess, he knew that, but an ‘I love you’ still rested at the tip of his tongue. Friends loved each other... 'I love you' was always a comforting thing to hear... would it be so awkward now? You both have told each other variations of the saying in the past - from ‘love ya’s’ to random finger hearts in crowded rooms- but never the exact phrase. It held too much weight - the weight of the confession that, similarly, he’d been dying to relay…. but he reminded himself... it wasn't the right time.

“I told you… anything”

“I’ll see you tomorrow… boyfriend.”

✿

“Hi… girlfriend.”

Jungkook didn’t even try to hide the smile on his face. It’d hopefully overshadow the bags under his eyes… He’d been up for hours after your call - pressure, joy, anger, and pain overwhelming him all at once as he imagined what you might’ve gone through before, what undeserving, cruel words you’d heard from people too blind to see the sheer beauty before them. It hurt him even more that you felt embarrassed about asking him for help. You never should’ve been embarrassed about a damn thing. If anything had been embarrassing at the situation, it was the time he’d spent in front of his mirror, rehearsing vague, angry threats and snide comments he might have had to make, tapping out after a cringey “that’s my girlfriend” line.

Jungkook was never one to insult and intimidate others so purposefully, his enigmatic baby villain-like exterior always doing the work instead. It'd work whether they saw him as the lovestruck, caring sweetheart he was or the tough, protective boyfriend he could also be... but he knew the tattoos, piercings, and his physique probably aided him with the latter option, with Jungkook himself assuming it was the reason you'd asked him specifically to help out, especially over Taehyung, your mutual friend who also happened to be an actor... And busy on a late-night shoot, Tae left him helpless. He could not prepare any speech or insult to save his life, stuck between how to go about his dream role. You'd trusted him, and Jungkook decided he had no choice but to trust himself too. Whatever he emulated was up to the other person, and whatever came out of him would be the truth he’d been feeling at the moment. Whether he leaned into either side - either knowingly or unknowingly - all of it was still him, and specifically him as a boyfriend... That killed the nerves more than anything and allowed him to focus on the silver lining. He’d gotten the role he’d always wanted, and though there could have been better contexts, you looked as beautiful as ever in your flowy sundress… even as you did roll your eyes.

“Boyfriend,” you greeted him jokingly, smiling too before looking at him up and down. “What do you have going on today, Koo? I can't tell if you just came from the gym or not.”

Jungkook shakes his head in response, a proud, bunny-toothed smirk on his face. After ransacking his entire wardrobe that morning, he paired his go-to ripped jeans with a Nike muscle tee, clutching his motorcycle jacket in his hand. It wasn’t like him to wear sleeveless tops outside of the gym, still shy to show off the muscles he’d worked so hard for, as well as the tattoos he’d designed himself…. but provided he was there to intimidate others - and hopefully impress you - he had no doubts about showing them off and his mish-mash of an outfit. “This is just in case anyone even thought about saying anything to you today,” he added, flexing his muscles before spreading his arms wide open. “Come here.”

It didn’t pass Jungkook’s eye that you’d hesitated to step into his arms, but when you do, he finds himself inhaling deeply - your scent, but more so the feeling of you. With you in his arms, everything fell into place, as it always had with you.

“I’ve always got you. I have your back, you know that right?” he whispered into your neck, digging his fingertips as hard as he could into your soft, plush skin, hoping it’d emphasize his promise when he noted how your heartbeat hadn’t slowed as it always did when you hugged.

You hadn’t said a word the entire time, even as you pulled away and glanced up at him - ever so briefly. He'd have waited until you said something first, but he’d always read your face with ease, and the panic he sensed emanating from you only agonized him further. Once again, he tries to push away the scenarios you must’ve gone through.

He murmurs your name, sparking your attention. Remembering his role for the evening, Jungkook allowed himself to follow an urge he’d always resisted, brushing a stray hair away from your face, cupping your round chin in his hands. It felt too good - a taste of his forbidden imagined scenarios and the person he'd always dreamt of.

“Always, okay? I won’t allow my girlfriend to go through this,” he said, forcing himself to emphasize the title he wanted to give you in a teasing way. Again, you roll your eyes and push his hand away.

“We’re just testing a theory, Koo,” you say, starting to walk with him alongside you. “Don’t… get too into it.”

“Are you kidding? The acting classes I took years ago are finally coming in handy. This is good practice,” he said, wishing he could just tell you that he likely wouldn’t be acting at all - merely doing all the things he wished he could do on a regular basis. He kicked it off by grabbing your wrist, intertwining your fingers into his.

Jungkook had been so cool, so collected until this moment. It was only until he actually did it that Jungkook realized that hand-holding was expected, and he cursed himself for not spending more time prepping himself in front of the mirror. It was such a simple act, what he always wanted to do.... and so it drove him crazier than the hug. You’d hugged in the past, as friends do, but never held hands... not like this, at least. Taehyung had urged him to try doing so in the past, to ‘gauge your response,’ but he’d always been too much of a coward to do anything besides ask for high-fives and offer his elbow for you to hold when he walked you home. You were braver, taking his hand and tracing his tattoos whenever your talks went a little too deep or needed a distraction…. just as you did now, with your finger rubbing the skin below his thumb... Still, this felt different for the both of you.

Jungkook bit at his lips, trying to hold back….something. He himself wasn’t even sure if it was a smile or a squeal, but he soon remembered the point of his presence. The favor. A boyfriend - he, as a boyfriend - would never be able to keep his eyes off of his loved one. So, he’d allowed himself to steal glances your way, noting every single time how low you’d kept your head as you walked.

"Hey," he says, stopping.

"What?"

"Nothing," he smiles, taking in your expression and the way the sunlight beautifully shone on your face. "I just wanted to look at you."

"Okay, Bradley Cooper in A Star is Born," you chuckle, nudging him to continue your walk. "You need to watch more movies."

"And you need to know that you look really pretty today. You do know you're pretty, right?"

"Oh, shut up, Koo... I know."

Jungkook didn't know if you believed him or if you were serious or not, but he knew damn well that he was... Perhaps he was overdoing it already, but remembering how quickly his prayers had been answered just the night before, he held out hope that the universe still had his back, silently praying you’d soon realize see how good of a “fake” boyfriend he was and asked him to be your real one.

“This is the main store I wanted to visit, Koo,” you say, stopping in front of a modern gold and beige storefront on the busy high street. Suddenly, he felt an emptiness in his hand and at his side when you let go to reach out and pull open the glass door. Already half open, he forcefully tugs the brass handle as far back as he could, holding the door open for you to walk in first.

“I’m your boyfriend, remember? Let me do it,” he whispers by your ears and into the stony silence of the cool room.

Looking around, Jungkook quickly saw plenty of dresses that’d look great on you. It was overwhelming at first glance, but the one you pulled out from a nearby rack trumped them all. A blush, floor-length tulle dress, with tiny embroidered daisies scattered all over the fabric, including the translucent balloon sleeves and an off-shoulder neckline. It was almost as beautiful as you were.

“I knew they had this in stock! What do you think?” you smile, putting it up against your body. For the first time that day, Jungkook’s mind went blank - he was suddenly grateful you hadn’t asked him to accompany you to the wedding. It’d be too much to see you in it.

“Pretty,” he murmurs, holding the fabric between his index and thumb, tracing over a tiny daisy.

“Right? I’ll go try it on. Wait here, okay?” you say, moving to leave but quickly returning to place a swift kiss on his cheek.

Jungkook was so taken aback he did nothing even long after he’d seen you approach the sales assistant in the back and disappear into a dressing room.

“You can sit over here,” said the woman, who now returned and pointed at the arrangement of chairs a few steps away.

“Thanks,” he whispered, only now realizing his hand had been on his cheek, tracing the ghost of your kiss. You’d kissed his cheek. He’d been happily playing the role of the boyfriend the entire time, he hadn’t realized you hadn’t done much to play the role of ‘the girlfriend’ in return. But you did it. You kissed him. You wanted to, at least in that moment…

Jungkook tried not to linger on the thought any longer, knowing it’d feed his delusions. Pulling out his phone as he plopped onto the velvet seat, he loaded up the mobile game he’d been struggling with, and it was a few minutes later when he realized someone had been calling him.

“Sorry?” Jungkook asked, looking up to see the sales assistant leaning on the couch opposite him.

“I said ‘Hey,’” she repeats.

“Hey…” he responds, perplexed until he realizes you might've been calling him. “Is she okay in there? Does she need me?”

“Uhm, I don't think so,” she replies, seemingly just as confused as he was. “But… I was wondering… what’s her deal?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is she rich or something?”

“What?”

“I mean, what’s the catch, exactly? Why are you with her?”

“Because I love her? There's no catch.” It was freeing to say the words so openly, Jungkook thought - they’d left his lips without a thought. Still, what's it to her?

“Oh, come on,” she went on, rolling her eyes. “You know you’re out of her league. Just keep her for 'her kind' and the fetish freaks on the Internet, you know? You’re too hot to-“

In utter disbelief and refusing to hear another word, Jungkook stood up and made a beeline for the dressing room, his long strides and huffs echoing throughout the store in response.

“Hey, babe - need any help with the dress?” he asks a little too loudly, knocking on the dressing room door in the same fashion.

“....Yeah, actually. Can you get the woman that works here?” you say on the other side.

“No. Let me in.”

“Jungkook, just call her.”

“Let me in. I’m your boyfriend,” he emphasizes. “Let your boyfriend help.”

“…This dress is supposed to be a surprise, honey,” you reply.

“Babe, I already saw the dress,” he half-chuckles, almost forgetting his anger. You were clever as hell but never thought of the wittiest comebacks - it was endearing.

Jungkook rushed through the moment you pried open the wooden door, turning the metal lock behind him. Still lost in his thoughts, he mindlessly zips up your dress before stomping to the room’s bench, sitting upon it with his head in his hands.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he lies, feeling just how furrowed his brows had been as he stared at the floor.

“You don’t seem like it. Why’d you insist on coming in here?” you say by the mirror a few footsteps away.

“.....Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit, this was uncool. I just wanted to get out of there. The… uh… scents on their diffuser were too much. My nose acted up... started sneezing.” It was hard to lie to you. He’d rushed over because he always had, for you were his safe space even now, but it surely was to prove something too. His eyes darted around the cramped dressing room, trying to look anywhere but you... he was too ashamed. “I'm so sorry, ____. This was my first thought. I didn’t even think that you were obviously getting dressed. Should I leave?”

“Koo, honey, relax. I don't know what's up, but... I don't think I want you to leave," you softly whisper.

Pink obstructed his vision, the spot on the carpet he'd been so focused on. Daisies made him snap out of his rage. And the hand on his knee interrupted the voice in his head that’d been on a tirade on the injustices of the world. But looking up at you, the world suddenly seemed so beautiful - you were in it.

“I'd never leave, then,” he says with a smile. “I’m fine.”

The reassurance was enough for you to get up from your crouched position by his legs and return to the mirror.

“We both know you can't lie, so I need you to tell me how I look in this dress. My curves stick out a little more than I’d like, and I don’t know how I feel about the whole arm situation. But I think I’ll get it. Nice, huh?”

“Nice." Repeating your description was the only thing he could do, unable to think of anything else to say. You were covered in flowers, yet here you stood, prettier than every single flower he’d seen in his entire life, let alone the ones on your dress. The dress did cling to your body at certain angles, and that’s what made it even all the more alluring. He had no idea what you’d meant by 'the whole arm situation' - the skin he’d always wanted to bite on was even more tempting through the translucent fabric… and with your shoulders out... it was a sight too good to be true. A wave of envy rushed over him, thinking of all the wedding guests that'd see you in the dress for hours while he only got a glimpse... They had no idea just how damn lucky they were, but Jungkook knew that he was as well, grateful for this very moment and trying to take a photographic memory of how you looked, twirling so alluringly in the room with him alone.

“Beautiful, actually,” he quickly adds.

"Good. If your nitpicky Virgo ass thinks it's a beautiful dress, then that means it really is pretty,” you say, satisfied.

It wasn't the dress that was so beautiful...

He opens his mouth to correct you, but nothing comes out, and you speak before he does. “Uhm, help me with the zipper again?”

Jungkook’s anger had blinded him when he’d zipped it up - the intimacy of the moment only just sinking in when he stood behind you, facing the back of your neck and shoulders. He was unzipping your dress - granted, not in the context he’d always imagined, but he couldn’t help but do it at the speed he’d always wanted to… slow and steady. What felt like an eternity later, just a few centimeters from the top of the dress, Jungkook sees lace peeking through. Abruptly letting go of the metal in his hands, Jungkook inhales, trying to shove away the image, but it must’ve been the hardest thing he’d ever tried to do. He never imagined you were the type to wear a strapless, lacy maroon bra. He didn’t even think bras came in that color. The rare times he dared to take his imagination that far, only for fleeting moments, he’d mentally dress you up in pink or black… Maroon was, somehow, sexier. This... this was too good to be true.

But Jungkook, always so detail-oriented, quickly spots a tiny piece of metal at your waist. Another zipper. Did he zip that one up as well? His fingers pull the zipper down, only for your hand to cover his, stopping him.

*“*Thank you, Koo... I got it from here,” you say with a hush.

"I'm sorry," he says in a similar fashion, stepping away.

"Don't be. But, uhm... I’ll get dressed. You don’t have to leave, but… can you... look away?”

“Of course,” Jungkook panics, turning around to face the abstract art on the wall. He tried his hardest to make sense of the colorful shapes in front of him, but all he could take in were the sounds behind him. Soft fabric, falling onto the carpeted floor. The brushing of bare feet… bare thighs. Fabrics, zippers, a clanky hanger…. He reckoned that if he tried hard enough, he might’ve been able to hear the humming of a radiator that must’ve been hidden behind these walls - he could certainly feel the heat, wiping away a bead of sweat. Another zipper. Probably the actual source of all the heat.

“Done, Koo,” he hears softly from behind him.

With a blink, Jungkook realized the shapes in front of him clearly made up a cityscape.

“Koo,” you call again, and he finally turns around to face you, hoping his face hadn’t been as flushed as yours was. You’d been changing - what excuse did he have? The giggle you let out confirms his suspicions, which he tried to cough away... until he gets an idea.

"Oh, hey, wear this," Jungkook says, handing you his leather jacket.

"W-why would I?" you ask.

Because I always wanted you to wear my clothes, I finally have an excuse to ask you to do so, and this will drive me and everyone else crazy, Jungkook thinks.

"It's cold outside," he utters.

"Jungkook, it's almost summer... why else would I be wearing a sundress?"

"It can get breezy! And hey, you want my opinion on fashion? Your outfit will look better with this on." Not exactly what he wanted to say.... "You know... sundress and leather jacket? Pretty and tough... Juxtaposition... It's a thing. It's... what couples do."

"I don't know if it'll fit, Koo," you say quietly, staring at the piece of clothing in his hands.

"Drape it over your shoulders, then," he says, doing it himself. He guessed that it would have fit you but didn't insist on it then and there - even if it hadn't, he'd always find ways to make you feel loved as his girlfriend... And you looked adorable in his jacket.

"Looks even better this way, actually..." you murmur, brushing away the hair from your face, clearly flustered. It gives Jungkook the exact rush and confidence he needs. He unlocks the door, taking your hand as he walks out of the dressing room together - more than ready to nail his dream role once again.

“It was a perfect fit - I’ll buy this for sure,” you say to the sales assistant with a smile, placing the dress on the marble counter. Jungkook could feel you try to let go of his hand, but he wouldn’t budge and only held on tighter - he’d let you struggle with your purse one-handedly if it meant he was holding your hand.

It only helped him reach for his wallet with his free hand quicker, handing the woman his black card after she’d announced the price.

“Jungkook, no,” you whispered, hand deep in your purse, the other still trapped by his grasp.

“Baby, it’s only fair that I pay,” he starts, in a low, hushed tone just loud enough to be heard as he takes in your quizzical expression with a smirk on his face. “…Since I’ll be ripping it off of you later.”

Jungkook can't help but chuckle, seeing you go catatonic beside him after letting out a comically loud gulp in response. He doesn’t need to look at the sales assistant’s face to know she’d been startled as well, almost forgetting to hand him the receipt. Putting away his card and wallet single-handedly, Jungkook quickly looks back at you when he realizes your hand has turned limp in his. He’d only ever seen you so petrified when he’d suggested you watch a horror film together, in the hopes of you curling up in his arms - but he’d always stupidly ruin the moment with a laugh seeing your frozen state and wide eyes, just like now…

“I love seeing my girl all flustered. You looked so beautiful in it, honey... Just wait til Sunday,” he laughs with a wink, wrapping an arm around you to pull your body closer to his and finally place a kiss on your head. He didn’t even know if the wedding was on a Sunday - if the lie fits… “Excuse me, do you know if there are any lingerie stores nearby? A place they’d sell something that suits the dress? I’m not done treating her - well, the both of us, really….”

“There’s a place two blocks down,” the woman says with her face flushed, and Jungkook yanks the bag into his hands the moment he is able to do so.

“Thanks,” you whisper, seemingly to both him and the woman. Reaching for your hand once again, Jungkook intertwines your fingers in his, occupying both of his hands and awkwardly following you out.

The two of you walk side by side in silence, replaying the moment until the store is out of sight and Jungkook finally realizes the gravity of what he’d said.

“____... Sorry about… what I said back there. I really didn't mean to be disrespectful... I should’ve checked in with you first before just saying that shit. It was just where my mind went to, and...Wait… Fuck.. please don’t think I had those thoughts when-”

“You didn’t?”

“Huh?”

“You didn’t have those thoughts?”

Jungkook could so easily read your face most times, but this wasn’t one of them. Did you want him to have those thoughts about you? Should he lie? Were you just playing the role of the girlfriend, even now? Should he answer as the boyfriend or just Jungkook or…

“Relax, Koo. It was just unexpected… a little jerky, if it wasn’t you or if I hadn’t asked you to pretend… I thought the maroon suits the dress, though,” you pout.

“It does!” Jungkook blurts. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Jungkook. That was actually nice,” you reassure him with a squeeze on his arm, interrupting his train of thought.

“Nice?”

“Yeah… this is all…. this is very nice,” you hum, tugging at his leather jacket on your shoulders before wrapping your hands around his arm.

Was it really happening?

“I know you’re just faking it, but… it feels good to be treated this way. To have a boy… treat me like this… publicly.”

“Publicly? What do you mean?” he asks, ignoring the urge to deny he’d been faking anything.  “You had boyfriends before, no? What about your ex? Mr. Organic Shoes?” Jungkook could never remember the guy's name, remembering how distant the two of you had been at that time.

You shake your head and roll your eyes. “No… no, he never… he never did this. He convinced me I wanted a too-private relationship -  you remember, I barely told anyone anything… I barely saw you or Tae... anyone. We barely went out, not for our anniversary, not to events, dinners….. nothing. The rare times we did, he’d never even hold my hand. I went along with it, figured that was his dating style and that he was just that shy, but - surprise, surprise - he goes everywhere with his new actress girlfriend, as proven by me drunkenly Insta-stalking him the other night. I like nights in more than anyone, but it was clear he just wanted me in private. In the breakup, he actually admitted he’d be ashamed to go out with me. It was that messy.”

“What the fuck does that idiot have to be ashamed about?” Jungkook fumed, even more so when you laugh in response.

“This isn’t a fucking joke, ____….. Fuck that guy, honestly,” Jungkook spits out, surveying the area he stood in and considering if it was possible to somehow track the asshole down and beat him up then and there, but with you still latched onto him so tightly…. he wouldn’t leave for anything. “You were always way too good for him, for anyone… I wish I’d told you sooner.”

“Thanks, Koo,” you whisper, hiding your face against his arm for a fraction of a second. He didn’t have the guts to face you at that moment either, knowing he’d kiss you all over just to show you how loudly and publicly you deserved to be loved if that's what you wanted.

“Thanks for today, too. My theory seems to be correct… I wasn't fat-shamed, so ‘yay’ to being treated with basic human decency. But that means you'll likely have to join me again in the future. Congratulations, Koo - you're one-off acting gig turned into a regular role in the _____ Cinematic Universe. What favor do you want in return? What’s your price, Jeon?”

“Oh, I'm never letting you shop without me ever again. See how good my leather jacket is on you? Forget being a boyfriend, my fashion advice is like no other. No... no, this is a Marvel contract now. I'm in this for life... but we agree this isn’t a one-off cameo? Spider-Kook is the star of this universe, alongside you? Just the two of us?"

"What, do you want me to get another guy to pretend to be my boyfriend?"

Fuck no. Jungkook shakes his head.

"I’m still your boyfriend for the day, aren’t I?"

".. What did you have in mind?"

“....I wanna show you something.”

✿

Nagging usually works on Jungkook. Well, nagging was a bit of an exaggeration - he caved in quickly when it came to your requests, seemingly forgetting his sheer signature willpower. But now, even you would admit that you’d been unrelenting… you couldn’t help it. Jungkook had been very vague about ‘what he wanted to show you,' the favor you'd pay in return for his current and future fake boyfriend gigs. But he wouldn't budge, even going so far as to finally resign with a smile and tell you to ‘just shut up and let him lead.’ Jungkook had always been down to do whatever you wanted to do - a true highlight in your friendship - but now, your heart fluttered at him taking the lead…. and even more so when he took you by the hand and excitedly, physically led you to all the places he did… his hand never leaving yours.

First, he took you to a bookstore - nailing the part of the perfect boyfriend with that choice alone, then taking it further when he went on to say he’d treat you to two books - one of your own choosing, the other of his. Something straight out of a romance book, as your day had been thus far.... and Jungkook must've caught on. Of all the books in all the aisles, he had to pick out “Fake It Til You Make It” - the fake dating romance book that inspired all this, only the roles were reversed… In truth, you could’ve easily asked Taehyung to pretend to be your boyfriend and help test out your experiment instead - the two of you were friends as well, and though your relationship was strictly platonic, Tae was an actual actor… But you had to jump at the chance that there might be a teeny, tiny possibility that life imitates fiction and your crush would see you in a new light. And if he hadn’t ended up thinking that dating you might not be too bad of an option… at least you’d get a day of what you’d always longed for. It was a risk. You’d never been able to hide your emotions and already got teary-eyed a number of times, seeing Jungkook act as noble as he’d always been… even better than the perfect boyfriend you’d imagined him to be. It was getting harder and harder to muster up the courage to ask him to accompany you to the wedding as well…

The second place Jungkook led you to was a photo booth studio. He spent way too much money on many different takes and overpriced photo strips, trying different decorations, poses, and photo options. If his arm around your shoulder weren’t holding onto you so firmly, you’d have bolted when he’d insisted on taking a ‘couples version,’ as if the rest weren’t torturously coupley enough. He must have found you out, and it was getting embarrassing.

“I guess…. To back up this lie,” you’d said sheepishly, trying to remind yourself of the situation.

“Sit on my lap and sit still,” he’d instructed, helping you onto his lap and wrapping his arms tightly around you.

Looking off to the side, you couldn’t tell what Jungkook did for the first photo - probably a funny face. For the second, he turned your face to his with his fingers underneath your chin, and you heard the camera click. His features seemed softer, a twinkle present in his eyes… you’d missed the countdown once again, and suddenly Jungkook’s lips were on your cheek, your face held in his hand. He let out a loud mwah you could still feel against your skin after he backed away.

“You kissed my cheek earlier, so…” he quickly mumbled.

A stinging feeling hadn’t left your face. It was hard to say whether it was the lingering feeling of Jungkook’s lips or its effect, the smile you couldn’t stop from appearing on your face.

“Here,” Jungkook whispers, handing you one of the two duplicate photo-strips.

Oh… he was looking at me in that first photo. Why do we look so in love? Holy shit, is he a good actor. Oh hey, how did I not realize he’d also been smiling when he kissed my cheek?

“Put it on the back of your phone,” you hear.

“To back up the lie,” he says, repeating your own words when you finally look at him through your lashes, catching him slip his copy into his wallet as you did into your phone case. Before you were able to process what he’d just done and the photos staring back at you, he wrapped his around your wrist, pulling you out of the tight space.

It was still hard to tell what Jungkook had wanted to show you…. More glimpses of something you could never have, perhaps…

✿

Jungkook was running out of time. He wanted to do so much more for you. He’d imagined taking you out on so many different types of dates and crammed in as many as he could with the time he had left in the day, the possibly pivotal hours that he hoped would awaken something in you.

It was hard not to get carried away, as he always had a tendency to... He’d begun speculating that he actually was in a dream in the bookstore when he found the novel with a story eerily similar to his exact predicament. Ever the believer in fate, Jungkook took it as a sign that he was doing the right thing…. and if all that he was doing couldn’t wake you up, surely the book would... Then at the photobooth… Jungkook could have sworn you’d felt like a real couple then - you’d just been goofing around together, as you always had…. In such a cramped space filled with laughter and love, he’d finally mustered up the courage to kiss you back. He could have sworn he’d seen you smile so wide after that, and that made him happier than the kiss did. Maybe he had a shot....

The third stop was a quick run to the grocery store, which he knew would confuse you most of all. He mindlessly grabbed both of your favorite snacks and drinks in a rush before dashing out, thanking the heavens that he'd made it exactly where he wanted to be, right on time after that.

The park, before sunset.

As expected, the place was packed with couples, families, and friend groups all gathered around and enjoying golden hour. The cool sun shined through marshmallow-like clouds high in the warmly-hued sky. Laughter, music, and joy could be heard all around you - the sounds of happiness, home, and peace.

A perfect spring day.

A perfect opportunity.

Once you'd set up camp and his impromptu picnic, Jungkook leaned back and silently motioned to you to lean against his chest. You do so, cuddling right against him and making Jungkook feel so whole. He'd urged you to read the book he picked out, but you settled on the second one and suggested he give the other a go himself. Jungkook was never a reader, and he would read if you'd asked him to do so sincerely... but he put the book down five pages in. Why would he read a book, especially one that you needed, when he could bask in the beauty of his reality right there in that very moment?

Only thinking this far, Jungkook didn't know what to do after this, but he knew one thing: he’d never felt more alive nor more at peace.

"It's beautiful, Koo."

Jungkook opens his eyes, after closing them briefly as he took in the moment to see you staring up at the orange-pink sky.

"Yeah, it is. You're prettier, though," he says.

"Thanks, boyfriend," you scoff. "Thanks for showing me this... Thank you for the favor. Thank you for everything, Koo. I have to say that again.”

"The sky isn't exactly what I wanted to show you today, _____."

"Oh? Well, what is it?"

“Look at me, _____.”

Startled by his sudden command, you sit up to face him. He couldn’t say what he needed to say without seeing, knowing you believed him… Your eyes always told the truth.

“All of it... All of this... This day was what I wanted to show you. I wanted to show you… the kind of love you deserve. The kind of boyfriend you deserve. Actually, no - this isn’t even half of what you deserve. This is just the shit I could think of on the spot on a Monday afternoon. You deserve so much more, _____. I want to show that to you. I want to… I want you to know that. You don’t need to thank me for anything. The favor wasn’t even a favor. You deserve to have someone do that for you, no questions asked. I said ‘always,’ didn’t I? You deserve to go on dates, a boyfriend who loves you loudly and proudly.”

When your ears perked up, Jungkook knew you were listening. Really listening. But the tears on your face interrupted his train of thought. He needed to do something.

“Here,” he starts, clearing his throat as he stands up. “I LOVE HER, WORLD - I LOVE MY GIRLFRIEND! I AM IN LOVE WITH HER!” Jungkook’s voice echoed loud enough for every surrounding person to turn to him after his very loud declaration towards the sun.

“Jungkook!” you quietly protest, pulling him back down with a shocked smile on your face.

“I don’t know if you want exactly that….” he says, a proud, bashful smile still on his face as he reaches for your hand. “But you deserve it, regardless. Even if it’s not with me…. That’s what I wanted to show you. I wanted to show the love you deserve.”

Jungkook thanked the heavens for having his back once again. He'd imagined confessing a million different ways, but he'd never have imagined for it to go so smoothly and in such a spontaneously romantic setting. For such an important moment, he was thankful he could read you like a book once again. You took in every word, and your eyes began to water. This was it.

“Even if it’s not with you?”

Wait... what?! What did he say?! What did you say?!

"_____?”

Jungkook had been just as startled as you’d been at the calling of your name. It came from a woman who’d been sitting behind you, someone he had noticed earlier who had been clearly listening in on his confession, even smiling widely with the man beside her when he jumped up and declared his love so loudly. She… knew you?

"Rina?” you say, the shock you’d already been in still present on your face. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s our last date night before the wedding! Picnic in the park - a classic, isn't it? You would know, boo! You have a boyfriend! You're doing the same!”

You turn, mouth agape, to face Jungkook. “Oh, we’re….”

“Oh, don’t bother denying it. We all heard loverboy’s declaration - straight out of a 1980s film. I love it! I won't tell your sister if you don't want me too,” she cheers, smiling at Jungkook. “Oh wait, you aren’t even hiding it, are you? Look at your phone case!”

The photos of you in his arms, him kissing your cheek, were displayed right there through your crystal clear phone case on your lap. Behind his now bashful smile, Jungkook felt a thrill at the exposure.

“Oh, don’t be so shy now, you two,” the man speaks now. “You reminded us of ourselves.”

“____! He's just your type! What’s your name, cutie?” the woman, Rina, asks.

“Oh, it’s Jungkook.”

"Jungkook, I'm Rina. I'm friends with _____ and her sister! I assume you're coming to our wedding next week? _____ must have told you about it already. As long as you’re _____’s boyfriend, you’re welcome. Jae & I are going all out and want as many people there as possible!”

Jungkook had no idea what he must've done in his life, or a past one, for the universe to have his back like this. It’s exactly what he’d wanted… except it didn’t come from you. With all eyes on him, his dart to you, relieved and euphoric to see you smile and nod.

“I, I, I’d love to…"

“Great! I guess we’ll see you then, loverboy. Bye, my love,” Rina says, turning back to give you a hug. “I know me and your sister are the ones who taught you not to hear anything a man has to say but…. He’s a good one. Keep him. Listen to Jungkook, huh?”

Jae leads Rina away, the two of them waving goodbye and turning back until they are out of sight. But Jungkook can’t face you yet. He confessed…. didn’t he? He knew you were listening, but it still felt as though his words remained in the air, unfinished. Did you finally get it? Rina did. The whole damn park did. At least he’d gotten what he wanted. One more gig… One more gig to perfect it.

“I guess you’re my date…. loverboy.”

[mysterious-ocarina]

No Control

marauder!Sirius Black x fem!reader

(A/N 1, im american so i’ll prolly get alot of british slang wrong, or just call stuff by what americans say) ( A/N 2, this is kinda an au where Sirius doesn't move in with James and is stuck with the Black family. I had a lot of trouble figuring out what family to put the reader in that would fit my plot and I just ended up putting you in the nott family. I guess if you really wanna think about it (pls don't think too hard about it), your brother is the father of theo nott?) (A/N 3, check this out if anyone wants an explanation of why i've been gone from tumblr for so long)

Warnings: definitely angsty but with some sprinkles of fluff, lots of mentions of abuse (nothing graphic is shown, it's just described to have happened a lot in the past), this is an arranged marriage trope but not enemies to lovers trope, lots of misogyny (lately i've been feeling angry at the world and it's views of women so here is me trying to comfort myself. Sirius black is a woman lover fr). let me know if there is anything else i need to tag cuz this is my most serious fic yet

Main Masterlist HP Masterlist Requests AO3

(5.6k words)

Sirius Black. A name that's known by the majority of the Hogwarts population. And a face that is known (maybe a little too personally) by many wizards and witches at Hogwarts. But not to you.

You've only ever heard about the notorious Sirius black and the gang of hooligans called the Marauders. You've never got to meet any of them personally. You occasionally would see some of them around, but never Sirius. As a Slytherin, you often ran into his brother, Regulus, but you've never really talked to him either, only ever exchanging pleasantries. 

It was actually kind of surprising that you've never talked to the Blacks before. You both came from pure blood, supremacist families and both you and Sirius were known to be a bit rebellious against your families (or just rebellious in general).

But none of that matters, when your parents force you to come home for the holidays and basically shatter your resolve. 

At Hogwarts, away from the prying eyes of your family, you were most like yourself. Rebellious, outgoing, funny, and even kind. But under the roof of your family's expensive manor, you were nothing more than a quiet, obedient little girl, who's value was determined by whichever man was in charge of her. The perfect, pureblood daughter.

Just as your mother was and is, you are basically a slave to your own blood, specifically your brother and father. And as soon as you're married (arranged to a pure blood. no doubt, without your consent) you'll have to be an obedient little wife for your husband. 

The perfect, doting, obedient, docile, pureblood wife. It was all a load of rubbish, you thought, but you would keep the facade up in order to keep the abuse at bay. You learned pretty early on that speaking up for yourself and speaking out of turn was not going to be tolerated.

You were silently eating dinner with your family. Your father and brother were quietly speaking about matters that even if you and your mother cared, neither of you would be allowed an opinion on.

“Honey, we’ll be having important guests for tomorrow's dinner. So make sure you look your absolute best,” your mother spoke to you. She gave you a sympathetic smile knowing the “show” you both would have to put on in front of guests.

“Okay. Am I allowed to know who these guests are?” you swallowed down your food. You were filled with nerves, thinking about what kind of important guests you were going to have.

Your mother bent down closer to your ear, “I’m not supposed to be telling you this-” she shot a quick look to your father to make sure he wasn’t listening, “but it’s the Black family. I’m not sure why they are coming. All I know is that it’s important business with one of their sons.”

You put your fork down on your plate, placing your hands down on your lap in front of you. You let your thoughts wander and only grew more worried. What kind of important business did one of the Black brothers have with your family? To help a little with your nerves, your mother placed a comforting hand on yours before going back to her meal.

The rest of your night was uneventful after that, until you went to bed. You stayed awake for longer than you should have, your mind way too loud to allow you to sleep. You ran through a list in your mind about the millions of different “important business” that the Black family could have with yours. But none of it made sense why they would eat dinner with us. Usually important business was settled in your father’s study, as it was improper for the ladies to be present.

Eventually, you were able to fall asleep and then the next day would start. You woke up late, which was extremely unappreciated by your brother, who was expecting his morning coffee like usual. You were promptly punished, not only by being woken up by him screaming at you, but also with a beating.

You spent the rest of the day trying to find an appropriate outfit for the dinner that would cover the red marks and newly forming bruises on your arms. Your mother lessened the pain of the marks a little during the day but there wasn’t much else that you could do.

Sometimes when you both sat and drank tea, you would often dream together about running away from all of this. The blood supremacy, controlling men, and just downright evil families. But those thoughts and dreams were quickly quelled when the sound of the men's voices could be heard, calling for the maids- I mean women.

Both you and your mom knew, these were only dreams. It was impossible for purebloods to leave the life that they were born into.

You and your mother waited in the foyer, waiting for the guests to arrive. Your dress was rubbing against the lashes on your skin, making you scratch your arms in irritation but soon stopped when your mothers hand landed on yours.

“You’ll only make it hurt worse. Plus, you know you can show any discomfort in front of the guests,” she said softly. She was trying her best to sound comforting but it only served to remind you of the show you both are forced to put on and the lives you’re stuck living.

A knock was heard and muscle memory forced wide, fake smiles onto both of your faces. Your mother opened the door and welcomed the Black family, “Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Black. I hope you had safe travels here.”

As soon as they crossed the threshold, you were in front of them offering to take their coats. They handed them to you as Mrs. Black spoke, “Thank you for having us, Mrs. Nott.”

“My daughter will show you to the dining room while I finish up making dinner,” your mother informed before quickly making her way towards the kitchen.

After you finished hanging up Mr. and Mrs. Black’s coats, you finally had the chance to look at the two Black brothers. Being in his house, you immediately recognized Regulus, who gave you a tight smile. You then looked over to who you assumed was Sirius.

He certainly was as attractive as the girls at Hogwarts always seemed to make him seem. But he wouldn’t make eye contact with you. He was looking toward the ground, still keeping his posture ramrod straight. He had the same look and body language as someone who had just been beaten for disobedience. A look you were familiar with.

Before anyone could get angry with you, you spoke up, respectfully, “If you would follow me, please.”

With your head down, you brought the family to the dining room. Your father and brother both stood up to shake hands with the Blacks. You stood behind your seat, waiting for the men to sit down first. Your father and Mr. Black sat down and engaged in conversation. You watched Regulus take the chair next to his father and looked to see where Sirius was. You were surprised to find him right next to you.

You backed up, unsure why he was standing there. Of course, you would give up your seat if he asked you to. But all he did was pull the chair out and motion for you to sit down. You sat down and thanked him as he pushed the chair in, “Thank you, young master Black.”

In the corner of your eye, you saw your father give a nod at your use of the title. Salazar, you sounded like a damned house elf. But that was the proper way you were to address him.

Sirius scrunched his nose at the title but gave you an understanding smile, “You’re welcome.”

He surprised you once more by taking the seat directly next to yours. You kept your mouth shut, knowing it was best to keep your curious thoughts to yourself, but you did shoot him a kind smile.

Dinner started without a hitch, conversation mostly being between Mr. Black and your father, your mother and Mrs. Black conversing a little bit with each other too. You, your brother, and both Black brothers mostly stayed silent and ate the meal.

Throughout the entire dinner, when nobody was looking, you had been rubbing at your irritated arm in discomfort. You don’t know how long Sirius had noticed but he grabbed your hand under the table just as you were going to bring it back up again. He continued to eat his meal with his other hand, looking like he wasn’t holding your hand under the table at the moment.

At your confused glance, he leaned closer to your ear, whispering, “I know what you’re doing. It’s just going to make it hurt more, the more you keep messing with it. Just squeeze my hand instead.”

He went back to eating, glancing around to find that no one noticed him whispering to you. You squeezed his hand a bit hard as you went back to eating too. Instead of wincing or doing anything to show discomfort, all he did was rub his thumb soothingly on yours.

The butterflies Sirius stirred up in you was enough to distract you from your irritating arm for the rest of the dinner.

“Now,” your father started, rubbing his napkin on his mouth and setting it down on the table, (the universal sign for “stop eating and listen to me”). “Mr. Black and I have recently come to an agreement.”

Sirius squeezed your hand in comfort as his father spoke up, “Seeing as Ms. Nott is the same age as my Sirius, we have arranged for the two of you to be married. It will be after the both of you graduate from Hogwarts.”

Those words echoed in your head as you looked up to the two fathers in shock. Your silverware clattered as it fell from your hand onto your plate. You must have been breaking the bones in Sirius’ hand, holding it as tight as you were.

Despite the fact that you knew it was a bad idea, your adrenaline forced you to speak up, “You can’t do that, father. You can’t just force me to marry someone that I just met.”

The tears in your eyes didn’t fall, years of “training” keeping them from falling.

Your brother gave you a harsh glare at your disrespect. Suddenly your father stood up, slamming his hands on the table. Staring straight at you, his commanding voice not loud but still thundering all the same, “I can, and I will. Do not forget your place in this family and this world. You will do as I say until you are married. Then you will be your husband’s to command.”

In a haste, you let go of Sirius’ hand, placing your hands on the table to stand up. Sirius, thinking quickly, kept you from getting up by grabbing your legs under the table. That didn’t stop your mouth from speaking harshly, “I am nobody’s to command or control.”

Before you could say anything more, your father reached across the table and slapped you across the face. You held your cheek in shock. He’s hit you before but never in front of guests. The entire table sat in shocked silence.

You looked down at your lap, willing your tears not to fall. You noticed Sirius’ hands clenched in his lap, he looked like he was shaking in anger, but his face had a practiced neutral expression. Regulus’ eyes were wide as he looked at you but had no other reaction at the scene that just transpired. The both of them knew not to speak up.

Your brother had a satisfied smirk on his face. You could just hear the thoughts in his head right now. Thank Salazar, someone put her in her place, his face screamed.

Your father sat down and looked towards Mr. Black, “I’m sorry for my daughter’s behavior. I hope you can forgive me for her impudence.”

Mr. Black simply waved his hand in dismissal, “It’s alright. I understand how women are.”

Picking up his whiskey glass, your father sighed, “It’s a shame we can’t put off the marriage to fix her. Maybe your son will be able to crack her.”

Mr. Black took a swig of his whiskey too, “We can only hope. If not, I can think of a curse that surely helped to fix up my Sirius.”

Sirius tensed up next to you. Your father had never used the Cruciatus Curse on you, but it was clear what Mr. Black was referring to and your father seemed to quite enjoy the idea. The two men simply laughed as if that curse wasn’t named an Unforgivable Curse. They laughed, as if your pain was nothing more than entertainment to them.

The dinner went back to normal for the two men and your brother, not noticing the tension felt between the rest of the group. This time, you grabbed Sirius’ hand under the table and rubbed it soothingly. He let out a shaky breath and squeezed your hand.

Losing your appetite, you spent the rest of the meal sitting in silence, holding hands with Sirius. Your thoughts ran completely wild. You were going to be married to him, for the rest of your life, and you had only spoken once. You didn’t even speak. He whispered to you and you listened. Thinking more about it, there are worse boys that you could have been forced to marry.

At Hogwarts, Sirius was known for being rebellious and against his family's traits and values. Salazar, the boy was sorted into Gryffindor, the opposite of his entire family. But what if that was just in the public eye. You didn’t know anything about Sirius except for what you’ve heard from others. For all you knew, the moment you and he were alone, he would revert back to his family’s pureblood values and abuse you just as most pureblood husbands did to their wives.

No, you quickly thought, stop it. You tried to think about the entire situation with a rational head. Throughout the entire dinner, he did nothing harsh towards you. He offered comfort when your arm was bothering you. He kept you from standing when you argued with your father (who knows how much worse the situation could have escalated if you actually, physically stood up to him). He did his best to offer you comfort without your families knowing it.

He’s not an abuser, you rationalized with yourself. You felt the way he tensed up at the mention of the Cruciatus Curse. He would not be like your father or your brother.

After dinner, you were sent straight up to your room. Before you were separated, Sirius softly spoke to you, “Don’t worry, darling.”

His smile reassured you by a fraction, as you got ready for bed. Maybe all of it won’t be so bad.

You didn’t see Sirius, or his family, at all the rest of the holidays. The next time you did see him was on the train back to Hogwarts. You were simply looking for an empty carriage to settle in, when you noticed Sirius coming towards you.

He grabbed your suitcase and brought it to what you presumed was the carriage he was going to be in. You simply followed him, shrinking under the glare that some of his fangirls were throwing your way.

Once the door was shut and you were alone, he finally spoke up, “So, how are you?”

You sat in the seat opposite of him. You were unsure how to proceed, so you took the safe option and responded, “I’m fine, master Black.”

He opened his mouth in shock, before quickly wiping the look from his face, he basically pleaded, “Please don’t call me that.”

“But-” you went to protest, but he cut you off.

“At least, don’t call me that when we aren’t near our families,” he dismissed what you were going to say. All you could do was stare at him. It really did seem he wasn’t like his family.

Growing embarrassed under your stare, he shyly spoke back up, “I hope you know that you can act like you normally do when you’re around me.”

You looked away from him, face flushing, “This is how I normally act.”

He leveled you with a look, “We both know that’s not true. I don’t know you well but I’m sure you have a number of choice words to call me.”

Seeing the amused smirk on his face, your facade broke. You slightly smirked right back at him, “I don’t have any words to call you… Our fathers on the other hand…”

Sirius’ smirk turned into an almost awestruck smile. Before he could say anything back at you, a gaggle of boys had burst into the carriage.

“Pads, you’ll never guess who sent me a letter during break,” James Potter excitedly said. He went to sit across from his friend only to just now notice you. You gave him a sweet smile.

“Who’s this?” James asked, sitting next to Sirius and throwing his arm around him.

Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin followed James into the carriage, taking their seats. Everyone gave you curious but welcoming looks.

Sirius gave you a look, which you nodded to.

“Put up a silencing charm. I’ve got a story to tell you,” Sirius replied, causing the boys to perk up.

The next hour or so was spent with Sirius explaining your arranged marriage to his group of friends. You were relatively silent, not yet comfortable talking to his friends. He left out the parts where you were abused and berated but didn’t spare the details of his own abuse. It seemed he was comfortable sharing what he goes through to his friends. And evidently you too, since you were there listening too.

This was how you found out that he knew about the betrothal before you did. Apparently, he found out just moments before going to the dinner. He tried to refuse his father (the same way you had, you noticed) and received a beating for his insubordination. That would explain the look he had when you first saw him.

You cringed a little, hearing that he was hit but he gave you a reassuring smile. His friends were also really kind and sympathetic to the entire situation. No wonder he seemed comfortable sharing his familial trauma with them, they were extremely supportive.

“Can they really do that?” James questioned, from next to Sirius.

You sighed and crossed your arms, “Unfortunately, yes. There isn’t anything that we can do to avoid it.”

Remus looked up thoughtfully, “Is it possible for you guys to run away from your families?”

You thought about it, “Hypothetically, we could run away from our families and the blood supremacy world, but it would be extremely difficult.”

Sirius spoke up, “Trust me, I’ve debated it my entire life. If we ran away from our families, no doubt we would be financially cut off from them.”

You added, “Not only would we have to somehow have enough money for a place to live, but we would also need to find a job, to keep the place to live. And trust me, families like ours have a lot of power in the wizard world. One word from them, and no one would want or be able to hire us.”

Peter muttered, “That’s horrible.”

Sirius sighed and slouched in his seat, “You’re telling me.”

“Thinking about it, Sirius, you need to put your womanizing ways away. A married man shouldn’t be parading around with any woman that gives him attention,” you added with a teasing smirk.

“You make me sound like a cheap whore,” Sirius replied with a pout.

“You’re not?” James was quick to rebuttal, causing you to laugh at the offended face Sirius gave the both of you.  It didn’t take long for the entire group of you to dissolve into laughs and giggles.

Sirius smiled at you, teasingly, “Well how about you? I’m sure your long line of lovesick fools will end up sobbing at the news.”

You glared playfully at him, “I don’t know any lovesick fools. I actually swore off dating a long time ago so this doesn’t affect my love life at all.”

Remus looked at you in bewilderment, “Went from swearing off dating straight to marriage.”

“Quite the jump,” you simply offered in reply. “At least I’m stuck with Sirius and not some blood supremacist twat like my brother.”

“That is true,” Remus reasoned. “You could have been forced with someone who actually believes the rubbish their parents feed them.”

You felt comforted by Remus' words, confirming that Sirius wasn’t like both of your families.

The rest of the train ride was spent getting to know each other. It wasn’t hard to become friends with Sirius and his buddies. The longer you spent with them, the more comfortable you became with the idea of becoming Sirius’ wife. Don’t get me wrong. You still didn’t want to be forced to marry someone that you didn’t know or love, but you were comfortable knowing that he felt the exact same way.

Who knows? Maybe you could fall in love with Sirius the same way a plethora of other girls had.

The rest of your seventh year at Hogwarts went alright. It didn’t take long for rumors to spread that you and Sirius were to be married but for the most part, the gossip didn’t bother either of you that much. It’s not like the rumors were false, so what was the point in denying anything.

The only downside was the threats that a multitude of Sirius fangirls made in your direction. Nothing too serious has happened to you yet, but you knew soon enough that it would be too much for the wrong girl. Turns out, that time would come soon enough. 

You were eating breakfast in the Great Hall, Regulus sitting across from you. Since he was to be your brother-in-law, the both of you became friends. You would also find out that he wasn’t like his parents either. He just wasn’t as outward of this fact as Sirius was. Watching what Sirius has put up with, he knew that he wasn’t brave enough to rebel and deal with the consequences.

Earlier in the week, a parcel came by owl for you. In it was a Black family heirloom, a wedding ring. You were told that you had to wear it from now on, even though you guys were still only engaged and not married. Of course, you didn’t argue, though.

You sat staring at the ring. On one hand, you hate what it symbolized. It was your own sick image of slave shackles that tied you down. On the other hand, “It really is quite pretty. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought Sirius picked it out just for me.”

Regulus looked up at you as you spoke. He was confused for a moment until he noticed you glancing at the ring on your ring finger. He swallowed his toast and took a sip of his black coffee, “Well… I mean, it is charmed.”

You gave him a confused look, which only made him look back at you even more confused. His eyebrows raised, “You don’t know?”

“Know what?” you questioned. You looked at the ring and tried to think of what kind of charm it could have been.

Regulus smirked back at you, “Well, Mrs. Black-” you glared at him, only making him smile harder at you, “-When the ring was first made for our grandmother's grandmother, or some other old bat, it was put under some kind of spell. 

“It was always meant to be an heirloom and it was charmed to always look the way that the husband, the male with Black blood, wanted it to look. Hypothetically, it was supposed to be a symbol of great love because the husband should know what kind of ring their wife would like to wear. But with our family being the kind of family it is, it was mostly only ever worn as a symbol of possession.

“Rarely, did the husbands care enough about their wives to know what kind of ring they would like to wear,” Regulus finished his story. He was giving you an unreadable smile.

You stared back at him, your expression almost as unreadable as his, scoffing at him, “Well most jewelry is going to be pretty.”

“Yeah, but doesn’t that look like the perfect ring for you,” he smoothly replied.

You simply ignored him, finishing your breakfast. You did your best to ignore the fluttering feeling in your chest at the thought that Sirius knew what your perfect ring would look like.

The ring on your finger only served as a reminder to all the girls at Hogwarts that you were to be Sirius’ wife, a fact that was not very well received by the female population. Before you had the ring, the most that would be thrown your way was dirty looks and glares, something you could easily handle. But as more and more people noticed the ring on your finger over the next week, the more serious it became.

You started to receive so much hate mail, that you started to only ever open up letters if they had the official Nott or Black seal. Most of the letters only said foul things to you. Not many people were aware of the arranged part of the marriage, mostly only pureblood Slytherins and Black’s friends knew about that, so a lot of the letters consisted of them berating you and wondering how you got the notorious Sirius Black to fall in love with you (A love potion being the most common guess. Because why would the perfect Sirius Black want to be with a nobody girl like you).

People really are dense these days. How could people possibly jump to any sort of conclusions when no one has ever seen you guys kiss… or even hold hands for that matter. The both of you were friends by now, of course. But that’s it. You guys didn’t just magically fall in love now that you are betrothed.

Well… one of you wasn’t in love. Over the course of getting to know Sirius more for the past few months, feelings did start to stir within you. But you always tried to squash them down as soon as you felt them. Which only made you hurt more.

You were going to get married… without your consent… to a guy that you’ve started to truly care for… despite the fact that he could never care for you the same way. It was all kind of sad, when you really thought about it.

You thought about how you were probably, inadvertently, just a symbol of his slavery to his family and their beliefs. Just as he was inadvertently a symbol of your slavery to your family and their beliefs.

But you were able to look past that. So maybe he would be able to look past it too and see the silver-lining to this whole thing.

Breaking out of your thoughts, you muttered a quicked Incendio at the pile of hate mail in front of you, burning it to ash. Slipping your wand back into your robes, you continued to eat your dinner in relative peace.

If only it could’ve stayed in peace. Two girls, a Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff that you didn’t even recognize, sat down on both of your sides. Your confusion was apparent, only widening the smirk on the two girls' faces.

Understanding what was going on, you rolled your eyes, “Do you guys need something?”

“What’s your secret?” the Ravenclaw girl inquired.

You simply continued to eat your food, unaffected by their intimidation. Dryly, you responded, “Whatever could you mean?”

The girls looked at you in disgust, before the Hufflepuff spoke up, “We want to know how you got someone as amazing as Sirius Black to fall for you. I can’t think of anything good about you.”

With another roll of your eyes (if you had a galleon for everytime you rolled your eyes because of these kinds of girls, you would be rich) you cooly replied, “Have you tried, having a personality? I’ve heard it does wonders in making people like you.”

Both girls huffed at your attitude before standing up. The Ravenclaw haughtily informed you, “You better watch your back, Nott. Wouldn’t want anyone to damage Sirius’ goods.”

Using her wand, the Hufflepuff spilled sticky juice all over you, leaving you floundering in shock. You sat for a second seething in anger, only growing more furious as the gross liquid seeped more into your clothes.

By now, most of the great hall was already watching what had happened but at the glare you threw at everyone, people were quick to go back to minding their business.

You got up quickly, making your way out of the Great Hall. You heard footsteps behind you and someone calling your name but you were too blind with rage to bother turning around to find out what they wanted. You had had enough of the girls in this school looking down at you for something that wasn’t any of their business.

You were almost to the girls washroom, when Sirius grabbed ahold of your arm. You quickly whipped around, seething, “What the hell do you want, Black?”

He faltered, unsure how to handle what was happening, “I saw what happened. Are you okay?”

You glared harshly at him, “Do I look okay to you?”

Gobsmacked, he hesitantly replied, “Well, what can I do?”

“Oh gee, Black,” you spit at him. “Maybe you could fix your fanclub who seems to think that I’m Satan incarnate herself.”

Your anger in the moment kept you from thinking rationally, you mocked, “Oh perfect Sirius Black. He’s so hot and amazing. How could a slag like you end up with a man like him?”

Sirius stood, shocked at your outburst but kept silent and let you continue to tear at him, “I’ve heard it all, Black. Your little group of fangirls are so deep into their delusions that they can’t even see that we aren’t in love. The only thing that they are capable of seeing is that I’ll be your wife, consensual or not.

“Those girls don’t even realize the pain it brings me that I’m forced to do this. Those girls don’t see the pain my family has put me in, time and time again. Those girls don’t see the pain they cause me with their vitriolic jealousy,” You finished your rant off, poking at his chest with each sentence. Breathing deeply after explaining how this all made you feel, you watched as he processed everything you said.

He seemed unsure of how to continue, until anger and what looked like insecurity started to cover his face. He moved your hand away (very lightly, you noticed) and started to step towards you as he raised his voice back at you, “Well what do you expect me to do about literally anything about this situation. I’m sorry that having to marry me is the worst thing that ever happened to you.”

“Sirius,” you sighed, regretfully.

But he was quick to continue before you could, “No, you got to tear me out, so now it’s my turn. Trust me, this hurts me too. I know how horrible our families and their rubbish traditions are. You are just as familiar with the abuse as I am, meaning that you know just as well as I do, that there isn’t anything that either of us can do against this.”

He took a step back and a deep, calming breath. He looked at you with an expression that was unreadable, “I wish there was something, anything, that I could do to help us feel less trapped but there’s nothing to do.”

You took a step closer to him, “Nothing about you, is the worst thing to ever happen to me. Really, if anything, you’re the best thing to happen to me. It’s because of you, that I feel less alone.”

At your admission, Sirius let out a breath of relief, as if you just lifted the world off of his shoulders. Was he really that worried about being a burden to you? You spoke up again, “I’m sorry for yelling at you. None of this is your fault and I shouldn’t have let my anger out on you.”

Sirius sighed, muttering the scourgify charm. The sticky juice was instantly cleaned off you and you already felt a little bit better.

Sirius grabbed your hand, holding it in both of his, “It’s alright. I understand what you’re going through. But we can get through this together.”

“You’re right,” you responded with a soft cry. You fell into his chest and softly cried out your frustrations. Sirius stood there, soothing you as best as he could, unwilling to let you out of his embrace.

“How about tonight, you meet me in the astronomy tower? We can do whatever, it doesn’t matter what. We can just hang out and forget about our families for once,” Sirius offered. He still had his arms around you in comfort.

Once your sniffles subsided, you hugged him just a little bit tighter, “That sounds amazing, Sirius.”

(A/N, I was thinking of doing a part 2 if you guys are interested. I was thinking it would be after the marriage but you guys still dance around the feelings you have for eachother. maybe you guys find a way to run away together too. i dont really know, yall let me know what you think)

[redrose10]

Here is Part 2. Hopefully I can get the next part out within the next week. Comments and messages are always appreciated!

Inn Keeper Yoongi x Female Author Reader

Summary: You have never experienced true love which is hilarious considering you write romance novels for a living. When you end up staying at The Interlude Inn located in Holly Falls you start to wonder if maybe the answer to your newest love story is sitting behind the welcome desk. Quickly, you find out that Min Yoongi hides a lot of pain and sorrow behind his shy smiles and quick glances.

Warnings: (may get updated) Swearing, character death, very very angsty for a while, mentions of physical and verbal abuse, bullying, a really mean letter, panic attacks, eventual light smut, eventual fluff

Word Count: 3,704

Tag List: @viankiss @kam9404 @igot7fairlyoddparents

Later that evening dinner was filled with laughter and stories. Jimin had countless tales from Milan and Paris, New York and LA, Munich, Seoul, Tokyo. The list went on. You guess that’s what happens when you’re one of the most sought after models. He was charming and charismatic. Mae was certainly head over heels for him which brought many chuckles up on your end.

While you tried your best to stay interested in his stories and be polite your focus often shifted to the sulking Yoongi sitting off to the side next to his grandmother. His shoulders dropped down and he picked around at his food even though you knew it was one of his favorite meals. You hoped he wasn’t still upset with you about what happened after the trip to the strawberry farm and you were just looking for a chance to speak to him about it.

Thankfully after dinner Jimin went off to his room to get some sleep and Mae was going to meet one of her friends for some coffee so that just left just you and Yoongi. You had offered to clean up the dishes and once they were all dried and put away you started making your way around the inn looking for him. It didn’t take long for you to find him out in the garden using the last little bit of sunlight left of the day. Making sure your steps made enough noise to warn him of your arrival you knelt down and gave him a smile once you knew that he wasn’t going to get startled.

“What are you working on so late at night?”, you asked.

“Nothing really. Just pulling some weeds and cleaning up.”

Silence filled the air as he returned to the task he had set out to do.

“Listen Yoongi, about earlier, I never meant to upset you. I just wanted to spend some time with you.”

He gave you a small smile, “It’s okay. You don’t have to pretend to care about me.”

Your brows furrowed, “What’s that supposed to mean? I haven’t been pretending to care about you. I genuinely want to spend time with you and get to know you better.”

Standing up he brushed the dirt off his knees before walking back to the inn. Quickly you chased after him a little surprised at his quick movements.

“Yoongi I’m serious. I’m sorry if you got that impression, but that wasn’t what I was trying to achieve.”

Suddenly he stopped and turned startling you this time.

“Why are you doing this? Is my grandmother forcing you? Wouldn’t you rather spend it with Jimin?”

It might’ve been the lighting or even your imagination, but you swear you saw the start of tears forming at his waterline breaking your heart.

“Yoongi no one is making me do anything. Jimin is a nice guy and I liked talking to him, but he’s not you. And he’s leaving soon anyways. He was just passing through. I really do want to get to know you more before I leave next week and even then I’d like to keep in touch with you. I promise I’m not trying to intentionally hurt you.”

For a few moments you weren’t sure how to proceed. Yoongi stood at the back door of the inn staring at the ground while biting his lip. After what seemed like forever he looked up at you with a tear falling down his left cheek. You had to muster up all the restraint in your body not to reach over and wipe it away.

“Y/N please don’t give up on me. I just need more time.”, he whispered before running back into the inn leaving you staring at the now empty spot. You wanted to give him all the time in the world, but you knew the clock was ticking.

Over the next few days you hardly saw Yoongi other than at breakfast and dinner. Even when you specifically went looking for him he was nowhere to be found. Jimin had already left leaving just the three of you again. After working on your new novel for a few hours you decided to head over to Taehyung’s and see about trying that new latte and maybe getting a slice of pie. On the way there you happened to look over and saw Yoongi walking through the field where you saw the few cherry blossom trees the other day. He was wearing a baby blue colored sweater that made him look so soft and cozy. As much as you wanted to run over and engulf him in a hug you thought it was best to just let him be and head over to the farm as planned.

Jin had convinced you to try his newest creation, a grilled cheese sandwich made with Brie cheese and sliced strawberries with a honey balsamic dipping sauce. According to Jin he wanted to expanded the cafe into more of a restaurant adding more savory dishes. You weren’t 100% sold, but it wasn’t terrible either.

“Hey so what happened with Yoongi the other day?”, Namjoon asked taking a seat next to you.

“I think he just got really overwhelmed by the thought of spending time with so many people.”

“Yeah I could see that. Sometimes even I get stressed out by how hectic things are around here.”, he chuckled.

“Who are we taking about?”, Jungkook asked walking over and taking a seat across from you. Quickly you noticed him eyeing your uneaten sandwich so you slid the plate over chuckling as he inhaled it.

“Just Yoongi and what happened the other day.”, Namjoon replied.

Taehyung having finished up his duties also walked over and joined you guys.

“You know I was thinking of having Jin make him a cake since his birthday is coming up. I thought I could drop it off at the inn. Just something to let him know we’re thinking of him.”, he said.

“Wait his birthday is coming up? When?”, you asked.

“Umm it’ll be Saturday.”, Namjoon added.

You were supposed to leave Sunday, but that would still give you enough time to go into town and get him a gift or something.

“What if we threw a little party for him?”, Jungkook asked while trying to pry the melted cheese off his fingers.

Taehyung laughed, “Come on Kook. You know there’s no way in hell he’d ever come to a party.”

It was a really nice gesture, but you also knew Taehyung was right and there was no way that Yoongi would ever agree to go to something like that. But maybe if the guys helped you get something together then Yoongi could see they meant well you thought.

“What if we put something together for him to walk into but he’s alone? Kind of like a surprise party, but without us all there to shout surprise.”, you suggested.

“You know that just might work”., Jin replied. With everyone in agreement the group started brainstorming different ideas. With a plan set you said your goodbyes and decided to make your way back to the inn. Luckily you found Mae alone in the kitchen and filled her in on the plan and she was thrilled to go along with it.

Once back in your room you were greeted with the faint scent of flowers. You noticed on your desk a vase filled with various wildflowers in different colors. They were absolutely gorgeous, but you weren’t sure how they ended up there. You thought maybe Mae had placed them so you went out to the kitchen to thank her when you found Yoongi sitting at the table sipping some water. You also noticed the bright purple bandage on two of his fingers and his jeans were noticeably dirty. He gave you a tight lipped smile as you took a seat next to him.

“Some very beautiful flowers happened to make themselves into my room today. Would you know anything about that?”, you asked almost certain it was him.

His cheeks flushed red as he nodded, “Y-yes I picked them for you.”

Your heart swelled and you just wanted to reach over and hug him.

“Is that how you ended up dirty and with bandages?”

“Yeah I tripped and tried to catch myself on a tree trunk. It didn’t go so well.”, he chuckled softly.

“Thank you for the flowers. That was so sweet of you.”

“I..I just wanted to say sorry for the way I acted the other day.”

“No need to say sorry. I understand.”

The two of you sat in a silence that was surprisingly comfortable until he excused himself and left to his room. Once back in your own room you tried to get some more work done, but you couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful vase of flowers sitting in front of you. So you opened up a new email to send to your boss begging for more time away from the office so you could continue to stay at the inn for a little while longer. It felt like something was brewing between you and Yoongi and you didn’t want to interrupt that now.

Thankfully the following morning you woke up to a reply from your boss giving you the okay to stay as long as you were making progress. Excited that you were going to be able to stay longer you walked out to the kitchen a little cheerier than usual greeting Mae with a big smile.

Hi Mae, how are you doing today?”, you asked happily accepting a cup of coffee from her.

“Oh you know dear, same old same old.”

“Hey Mae, what do you think Yoongi would want for his birthday?”

She smiled, “Well he isn’t really one for material things. He’s much more sentimental.”

That really didn’t help you much. You were hoping you could just buy him a new sweater or some gardening gloves, but it seems you’re going to have to think a little harder. You thanked Mae and decided to head into town hoping that something there would give you some inspiration.

The little town seemed even busier than when you arrived with tourists from all over the world taking in the scenery. As you were walking up and down the streets you looked into different storefronts hoping something would catch your eye and something certainly did, but it wasn’t any gift.

Quickly you darted back behind the brick wall of the building you were next to trying to stay out of sight when you saw Yoongi looking into a large window with a large gummy smile on his face. Mae must’ve sent him into town for something. You watched as he looked over whatever was in the window. He looked like he wanted to enter into the shop, but after some hesitation he turned and started making his way back to the path to the inn. After you were sure he was gone you walked over to see what he was looking at and you were shocked to the name of the building ‘Fluffy Paws Adoption Center” and in the window an adorable little brown poodle puppy was bouncing up and down trying to get your attention. Your heart fluttered at the thought of Yoongi with a little puppy happy and giggly. You knew that a pet was a full time commitment so wanted to speak with Mae first before you just showed up with a dog that they would be responsible for after you left.

You went inside and asked if you could put the dog on hold and thankfully they gave you 48 hours so you quickly went back to the inn. In your room you hid away the knitting yarn, tangerine candies, hand painted notebook, and fluffy white sweater that you had already purchased as gifts for Yoongi. You thought maybe you were going a little overboard, but you really wanted to make this special for him.

After running through the inn you found Mae sitting in the backyard thankfully no Yoongi in sight.

You explained to her how you saw him looking in the window of the shelter and how you wanted to buy him the little brown dog. You offered to buy several months worth of food and fill an account with the local vet so that the dog could get medical care when needed. You were talking so fast you were out of breath by the time you were done and Mae couldn’t help but laugh at the state of you.

“Y/N, I think that is a wonderful idea. I actually had a little dog just like that one when Yoongi he was younger. He adored that dog. That might be why he was drawn to her.”

You were so ecstatic you could hardly sit still so you quickly called the shelter to let them know you’d stop by tomorrow to purchase the dog.

The following morning was Yoongi’s birthday. Mae convinced him to leave the house under the ruse that she needed him to accompany her to a doctors appointment even though she was fully capable of going herself. When the two of them left the house you let in Jin, Taehyung, Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jungkook who went to work. Jin placed the cake in the fridge along with the meat he had roasted leaving you with specific instructions on how to reheat everything properly. Taehyung and Hoseok hung up a few streamers and placed some balloons throughout the room. Namjoon and Jungkook finished wrapping up the gift they had all chipped in to get him, a laptop with music producing software already installed along with a card that they each signed.

Taking a step back you admired everyone’s hard work and you were really hoping that Yoongi would appreciate it too. After saying goodbye and promising the guys that you’d let them know how it went and hopefully send some pictures you headed off to town and picked up the adorable little poodle along with some food and a few toys. You even grabbed a tiny bandanna that said Happy Birthday.

Once back at the inn you began heating up the food from Jin which was harder than you had thought it would be thanks to the little rambunctious puppy that you were constantly chasing after. Just as you put the last plate on the table the front door swung open. Yoongi came sulking in with Mae not far behind him. You’d hope that he would’ve been surprised or at least gave you a smile, but he didn’t even look in your direction and instead stormed off to his room.

Mae walked over giving you a big smile, “It looks beautiful Y/N. You guys did a great job!”

“Yeah I really thought Yoongi would appreciate it thought. I guess we were wrong.”

She shook her head, “Just give him a few minutes dear. The doctors appointment didn’t go as well as I had hoped and we received some bad news that he is not taking well right now.”

Your heart sank.

“I’m so sorry to hear that. Please, is there anything I can do?”

She gave you a reassuring smile, “No but thank you for the offer. They want me to travel to the main city to meet with some specialists in the coming weeks. They have some high rated oncologist there that they think may be able to help.”

You couldn’t help but feel the mood dampen. You knew that Yoongi must be devastated at the thought of loosing his grandma. You played out multiple different scenarios in your head before you felt a light tap on your thigh. Looking over you found Mae giving you a sly smile.

“I have an idea. Grab the dog and follow me.”

You did as she requested by grabbing the puppy and following her down the hall to Yoongi’s room.

Mae stood at the door and lightly knocked twice, “Yoongi are you okay dear?”

After no response she slowly cracked open the door and motioned for you to set the dog on the ground and then she took one of the squeaky toys and through it in Yoongi’s room chuckling as the little dog went racing in to retrieve her toy. You heard a small yelp of surprise coming from behind the door and you knew that Yoongi was not expecting to see the little dog.

After a few moments the door slowly creaked open revealing a red faced Yoongi holding the small dog close to his chest. His eyes still had the remnants of tears as he sniffled looking around confused.

“Come out to the kitchen. We’ve got a surprise for you.”, Mae said motioning for him to follow. You followed behind him smiling as you watched the little dog he still held close take tiny licks at his neck. As you walked into the kitchen his mouth dropped open.

“What is all this?”, he asked.

Mae nodded to you giving you the push to speak so you did, “The guys from the strawberry farm came over and helped me put this together. Jin made us dinner and there’s a strawberry cream cake in the fridge. They helped me decorate and they even got you this gift and a card. They wanted to stay, but we didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

You noticed how Yoongi bit his lip trying to hide the tremble.

“Yoongi dear, wasn’t that nice of them? Maybe you two could go drop by tomorrow and thank them.”, Mae said.

He simply nodded before looking at the dog that had surprisingly fallen asleep in his arms.

“Oh she is a gift from me. I saw you looking at her the other day in town so I adopted her for you. Shes got food and some toys. There’s even an account set up at the vets office.”, you smiled.

It seemed like that was what broke the dam and he started letting tears fall while his shoulders shook slightly before he gently placed the dog on the floor and ran off to his room.

You stared for a while in shock before Mae came over gently nudging you with her shoulder in the direction he just ran off too. You took the hint and made your way to his bedroom door softly knocking. You didn’t get an answer just like you had assumed would happen, but you cracked open the door anyways finding him sitting on the edge of his bed crying.

“Yoongi I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset. I just wanted to do something nice.”, you said taking a seat next to him.

Gently he wiped at his eyes, “I know. I’m sorry. Sometimes I just can’t help it. I do really appreciate all of this. I-I just don’t deserve it.”

Deciding to risk everything you leaned over wrapping your arms around his shoulders pulling him into a hug. When he didn’t immediately pull back you decided to speak, “Yoongi you do deserve it. You deserve it more than anyone I know. Please don’t ever think you’re not deserving of feeling loved and feeling happy. Everyone that put in effort on this just wants you to know that they’re thinking of you.”

He nodded sniffling a little, “Thank you Y/N. And m-maybe tomorrow we could go to the farm and thank them too.”

Before you could speak the bedroom door cracked open slightly and in came sprinting the little brown dog. She beelined it for Yoongi trying to get him to pick her up. You both giggled at her excitement at finally being held.

“What are you going to name her?”, you asked.

He thought for a moment as he stared out of the window, “I think Cherry. Like cherry blossom.”

“I like it. That sounds great.”, you smiled.

You sat there and spoke with him for a while. You were careful not wanting to bring up any bad memories so you were happy to just let him talk. His voice was comforting in a way and you were just taking in the moment hoping that there would be more like it in the future.

After he had finished telling you a story about how he had scored the winning basket at his elementary schools championship basketball game he suddenly got quiet. You were worried you’d done something to upset him.

“Y/N can I ask you something?”

You nodded, “Of course.”

“Why are you so nice to me? I mean we’ve only known each other for a couple weeks. You don’t have to pity me. And if my grandmother is forcing you to do this you really don’t have to. She means well, but sometimes she prods too much.”

Taking a deep breath you continued, “Yoongi it’s nothing like that. I already told you no one is forcing me. I can’t really describe it and I know it sounds so cliche, but I feel a connection to you. I want to spend time with you and get to know you. I’m extending my stay here for a few more weeks. And I just want to show you that you deserve to be treated well and that you deserve to be loved.”

When he didn’t say anything in response you looked up finding him looking at you with soft eyes. He was so close to your face that you could smell the faint scent of his vanilla and musk cologne.

Suddenly he leaned in placing the softest of kisses to your lips. It was so quick your brain almost couldn’t process what just happened and you let out a small gasp. Not because you didn’t want or like the kiss, but because you were so shocked that he had actually initiated a kiss when a couple weeks ago he couldn’t even look you in the eyes. Before you could react any further he got off the bed running out of the room ignoring your pleas for him to stop and come back.

With a sigh you sat back down on the bed giving a confused Cherry some pats as you groaned to yourself. Just when everything was finally going so well and you were beginning to make progress.