#i wouldn’t do even one hour’s unpaid work in that place

[fingertipsmp3]

Looking at the rota app thinking well. Tomorrow is going to be fascinating

[leafsbabe]

Justin Herbert - sparks fly (SMUT)

4.3k words, reader is described as not small height wise but the rest is hopefully vague enough

Coming to LA had been a spur of the moment decision but you never regretted it one bit.

You wanted an adventure and one of your friends needed an apartment sitter/somebody to take over their rent for a three month trip overseas so you packed a bag and headed to Hollywood. What you didn’t anticipate was falling in love with the city and so your illegal sublet turned into a small apartment of your own, your vacation into an unpaid internship into a paid internship into a job, and your adventure into a new home.

You didn’t live lavishly like the upper echelon but you could pay your rent, go to large outdoor flea markets on the weekend, and splurge on tacos from the taqueria at the corner while still putting away some money for savings so it was safe to say that life was going pretty damn great.

Justin and you bumped into each other on a hike. Or rather he bumped into you, causing you to stumble, fall, and skim your knee in the least sexy way possible… if there even was a sexy way to get hurt.

But Justin had been sweet, squatting down next to you and making sure you weren't seriously hurt before helping you up. You weren’t a short girl, never had been, but this handsome stranger towered over you in a way that made your thoughts run wild. You couldn’t help but look up at him while he helped you to the nearest bench. He sat down with you and you both drank from your water bottles side by side, sneaking glances at each other from the corners of your eyes.

He was the first to say something, his words stuck in your memory to this day. “Do I know you from somewhere? You look familiar.”

Later you would learn that this was supposed to be a pick-up line and the follow up would have been about him seeing you in his dreams but at that time you had just filmed a scene in a popular tv procedural as scared coffee shop visitor #4 (something you had told everyone back home and no one in LA, because it felt weird to talk about something like that here) so you just blurted that out.

Was it embarrassing? Yes. Did it lead to you two sitting there on that bench talking about shows until the sun started to set? Also yes.

Justin and you exchanged numbers and you even threw caution in the wind and let him walk you to your car, because pretty serial killers wouldn’t talk about the nuances of copaganda for hours and if they did you’d take you chances at knocking him out with your reusable water bottle even if he was over a head taller than you.

That night you sent each other a handful of messages. The next day he even called you after work like a total weirdo. The weekend after he took you to a restaurant in the hills and encouraged you to order something that wasn’t the cheapest salad on the menu because he was going to pay, like a gentleman. You shared a bottle of non-alcoholic sparkling grape juice. Him because he drove, you because you wanted that gorgeous man to absolutely rail you and thought any perceived inebriation might prevent that.

He didn’t fuck you but there was a prolonged make out session in his car where he felt up your tits, so you didn’t even feel bad getting yourself off with your trusty vibrator after he dropped you off at your apartment. 

Your second date took you outside again with a small hike followed by a picnic. He had packed all kinds of food because he wasn’t sure what you liked and had forgotten to ask. Justin laughed about panicking and buying half a store worth of snacks just so that you’d have something you like. It was so sweet.

He didn’t kiss you like he did after the first date, wild and like he had to hold himself back. 

No. His kisses were sweet, hands never wandering above your waist or below you hips. He did accept it when you invited him up to your place for a coffee though. Half a dirty iced chai latte later he had you pressed against your couch, his large hands dangerously close to your ass.

Yet he still didn’t fuck you.

“Next time,” he promised with his head buried in your throat, “after our third date I'll take you home and won’t let you leave my bed for the next three days.”

It was sweet, in a way, and you hadn’t had sex since before you moved to LA anyways so what difference would a few more days make.

“Okay. Tomorrow?” You didn’t even care that it sounded desperate.

“Can’t.” Justin groaned. “We’re leaving for an away game the day after tomorrow and I meant what I said about keeping you in my bed.” 

You felt his lips against your pulse as he spoke.

“When do you get back?”

“In four days.”

Fuck. Maybe a few more days did make a difference.

He kissed your neck again, grinding down and showing you just why the wait would be worth it. Hopefully you would remember to charge your vibrator. 

He took you to an arcade style place for your third date and it was an absolute blast. With so many options of games to try out you barely had time to look at everything. Justin was a gentleman the entire time, a pattern you noticed during your last two dates. Even though you’d worn a short skirt (and safety shorts because tall girls and mini skirts didn’t always get along) and cozied up to him all afternoon his hands remained off your ass and solidly in PG-13 areas.

You were having fun, challenging each other while laughing the entire time, but you were looking forward to the end of the date when you could finally go home with him. You could feel the vibe shift, growing needier as time went on, with Justin reflecting his own desires back at you.

When you accidentally touched a sticky surface and had to go to the bathroom to wash your hands you had the genius idea to take off the shorts and shove them to the bottom of your bag. 

And boy did that idea pay off.

Twenty minutes later you were in the front seat of his car as Justin drove the two of you back to his place with his right hand on your thigh inching higher and higher. He didn’t look at you as it slid under your skirt, eyes on the road, but the smirk on his lips made it clear to you that he knew what he was doing. He was so close to touching you where you needed him the most when the car stopped and he withdrew his hand as you groaned. 

“Patience.” He teased.

You climbed out of the car before he could help you out, downright eager now. By the time you reached his front door you could barely hold yourself back. All it took was a split second, the door closed behind you and Justin unceremoniously pressed you against it as his lips landed on yours. 

You’ve never been a small girl but the way you had to tilt your head to kiss Justin had a way of making you feel tiny. He bent down, lips never separating from yours, and just picked you up, hands under your skirt somewhere between your plush thighs and your ass. You moaned and he continued kissing you, fingers kneading against your soft skin as he turned around and started waking further into his apartment. God, you hoped his hands would leave bruises.

A noise interrupted you and when you looked to the side you saw a cat looking back at you from where it was perched on a cabinet. Justin didn’t follow your eyes, lip finding your neck instead. “That’s Nova.” He mumbled against your skin. “I’ll introduce you two later.” Then he sucked hard and you forgot everything except him. Somehow you made your way to his bedroom, something you only noticed after he let you fall back against the pillows.

With Justin standing at the edge of the bed looking down on you, you felt even smaller. He was breathing heavily, chest rising and falling, showing off his strong muscles. Oh, how you wanted them to hold you down as he took you.

You took off your shirt in one smooth motion, throwing it somewhere to the side of the bed and hoped that Justin wouldn’t mind. Judging by the way he was staring at your tits, he didn’t.

Justin soon followed your lead, stripping his clothes off as you watched. There was no denying that he was smoking hot, his body solid and you couldn't help but press your thighs together in the search of some relief.

“What do you need?”

Need. Not want. You had to take a moment to collect yourself. What did you need?

“I need you to fuck my mouth,” you started, “I need to choke on your dick until I cry and I need you to fuck me until I forget my name and can only scream yours.”

For a moment you worried that it would be too much. That it would be too rough for Justin or that you were too needy. But the look in his eyes showed you that he would give you everything you asked for. 

Justin stood in front of the bed, looking down at you while he stroked his dick. Precum gathered at his tip and a whimper left your lips at the sight. 

“You want it?” He asked, tone just mocking enough to make you close your legs harder, desperately looking for any kind of friction.

You nodded while looking up at Justin, moving on the bed to get closer to him. Finally you could almost taste him. The pink tip of his dick just barely touched your lips. 

“Please.” You begged for him to let you have it. 

“Be a good girl and show me you deserve it.” 

He gave it to you slowly. One hand holding his dick, the other cradling your cheek, as you took it.

Justin felt heavy in your mouth as you took more and more of him. He was big, yes, but you knew you would manage to swallow all of him. You looked up at him through your lashes until his muscles blocked the view and you could close your eyes, fully concentrating on making sure that Justin would give you everything you needed. 

Slowly you pushed yourself to your limit, fitting him into your throat until your lips wrapped around his base. Justin’s dick was a lot to take in and you didn’t know if you could take it should he try and fuck your throat but for a short moment —with him frozen in front of you— you managed to take all of him. 

You swallowed around him once, twice, and began to slowly pull back before Justin moved again.

“Fuck.” His voice was deep and low as the hand that had been cradling your cheek moved to now hold the back of your head instead.

You couldn’t help but moan around him, the vibrations around his dick only making him hold onto you tighter.

“Good girl.” His fingers flexed against your head and the combinations of both made you feel dizzy, happy that you could be good for him. 

With his other hand Justin reached out and trailed his fingertips from your shoulder down your arm until you realized what he wanted and gave him your hand. He brought it to his thigh, letting you lay your palm flat along the thick firm muscle before covering it with his own. 

“If I’m too rough,” Justin started, “or you need me to slow down, if you just want to take a break or stop for any reason, you slap my leg and I’ll stop. Understood?”

Nodding yes didn’t seem to satisfy Justin, instead he used the hand on your head to pull you off him. You barely managed to do that thing with your tongue before he had you looking up at him through your lashes again.

“I need you to say it.”

“Understood.” And oh how wrecked your voice already sounded. There was no doubt in your mind that it would be completely gone by tomorrow.

“Good girl.” He said again, before silencing your whine with his dick.

There was no denying that Justin was strong. He was thick with muscle, powerful, yet you never felt unsafe as he picked up the pace.

He was rough like you had asked him to. Thrusting hard and fast and pushing your head down to meet him halfway. It was maddening. Above you Justin said something but you were far too gone to listen.

It wasn’t until his movements got gentler and he slowly withdrew from your mouth that you tuned back in.

Justin hadn’t come and was still hard, was one thing you noticed, looking between his dick in front of you and his face high above you.

The fact that you had teared up like you had told him you wanted to, was another.

His hands came up to cradle your face and he gently wiped away the tears with his thumbs as you looked at him.

“So pretty.” His voice was soft, gentle as if to not spook you and the thought of him underestimating you made you want to protest but all that ended up happening was you pouting as he stroked your cheeks.

“Aw don’t pout. You can suck it again later. I just didn’t want to come until I got to fuck you.”

He had to bend down to kiss you, this tall man folding in half to reach you where you kneeled on his bed, and the reminder of your size difference made you squirm.

In response Justin kissed you harder, pushing forward until you lost our balance and fell back on the bed. In a fluid motion Justin followed, bracing himself above you as his lips found your lips, your jaw, your neck.

He made his way down your body, leaving behind a trail of kisses as he went. When he reached your chest he departed from his careful line of kisses. The two kisses, sweet little pecks almost, that he pressed to either boob, stood in stark contrast with his hand that bullied it’s way under your body so that he could unhook your bra. He tugged on the bridge until it became loose enough for you to get the hint and shrug it off while he pulled your skirt and embarrassingly soaked underwear down your legs in one smooth motion.

You didn’t even get the chance to think about hiding yourself from Justin before his large hands gently parted your legs enough for him to fit between them. His mouth fit itself against the skin on the side of your knee before he slowly, teasingly, kissed his way up to where you needed him most. Even though you anticipated the first touch of his lips against your pussy it still sent a shock through your body.

Justin didn’t waste any time pretending to tease you any longer. His lips found your clit almost immediately, wrapping around the small bud almost lovingly before sucking. His tongue toyed with it while you moaned his name. Your hands found their way into his hair and you pulled, hard, but not hard enough to dislodge Justin’s wonderful mouth. It took two more moans before he released your clit and wandered lower, dragging his lips along your skin as he moved. The first drag of his tongue was testing, exploring. The second one wasn’t tame at all.

Justin groaned against your pussy and you swore you could feel it through your entire body. He pulled away for a moment and a pitiful whine left your lips at the loss of his mouth, only for it to turn into a moan when you saw him licking his lips before diving in again. 

You got lost in the feeling of his mouth on you, the way his lips moved so similarly to when he was kissing you just moments before. His long fingers joined his lips in bringing you pleasure and you couldn’t hold back anymore, grinding against his face until you came with your thighs wrapped around his head.

Justin continued to mouth at your thigh as you started to come down before he stood up from the bed and you took a moment to just watch him. The aftershock of your orgasm still ran through your body and combined with the picture in front of you it felt like a high you never wanted to end. Justin was breathing heavy, his thick chest rising and falling hard. The last bit of sunlight shining through the curtains tinted the bedroom in a soft light making his face glisten and you realized with a jolt that the wetness on his cheeks came from you.

The fading light painted him golden, with his hair shining like a halo, a statue as a tribute to raw desire. His likeness could grace museums across the globe, giving other marbles complexes but instead of the Louvre he stood in his bedroom, looking down at you sprawled across his bed, waiting for him to take you like he had promised. 

When Justin finally moved it was in determined long strides. He was a simple man that kept his condoms in the first drawer of his nightstand. Part of you wanted to tell him to forget about them, to fuck you bare until you were dripping with him, but you didn’t want to spook him with your eagernes, so you resigned yourself to bringing it up the next time. Justin passed you on his hunt  for protection and you had to crane your neck back to watch him, but the view made up for it. His front was absolutely gorgeous but you had to admit that his backside was quite nice to look at as wel.You were debating whether or not you should reach out to touch him when he turned around, box in hand, before throwing it onto the bed near your head. It still had plastic around it and you couldn’t help but imagine Justin going to the store in preparation of your date, grabbing it not just in case but on purpose. Had he gotten it in preparation for this date? After the second date? After your first? The big box seemed awfully ambitious though. Perfect.

Instead of walking back to the end of the bed and working his way up your body again Justin just skipped straight to holding himself above you and you didn’t waste any time getting your hands into his locks and pulling him down until your lips connected. He kissed you hard and fast while slowly lowering himself until his heavy body pressed yours into the mattress. It felt so easy to let yourself be blanketed by his warmth, his solid body so close to yours that you could feel every inch of his desire.

“Fuck.” He exclaimed as he pulled away from the kiss. Justin didn’t venture far though, staying close enough that you could feel the strands of his hair tickling your cheeks.

“Can you…” He nodded towards the box.

You nodded, eager, before reaching for the box and struggling to rip it open. When it finally popped open it did so in spectacular fashion, spilling an avalanche of little foil packets all over the bed and your body.

“Oh.”

You didn’t know which one of you laughed first but it took some time before the two of you calmed down again. Justin helped you clear the mess, swiping the countless packets towards the free side of the bed. It should feel weird, at least a little bit, now that the tension between Justin and you got broken. For a second you feared that your clumsiness had turned him off completely but then he kissed you again, slow and deep and like he wanted to devour you.

One of his hands reached for the pile of condoms while the other moved up your side, cupping one of your boobs when he reached them. His thumb barely grazed your nipple before Justin moved away but he still managed to pull a moan from your lips.

“Ready?” He asked, looking at you with hungry eyes.

“Yes.” You needed him so badly. “Please.”

The first push of him inside you was careful but determined. Justin gave you aloof himself until he was buried to the hilt, pausing once he was fully inside you and giving you time to adjust to his large size. Youwanted to tell him to move,to fuck you until you felt him days fromnow, butbefore you could ask-beg-demand he silenced you with another seering kiss. You learned why when he pulled away from the kiss, still buried deep inside you.

“I need to be careful with you.” He talked low, almost whispering. “Don’t want you to be sore when I fuck you again later.”

It made sense. Afterall Justin had promised to keep you in his bed for days. But with him filling youtube so perfectly, there was simply no room left for logical thinking.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he started to move. Slow, meticulous thrusts that didn’t feel overwhelming at first but drove you wild after just a few movements of his hips. There was something otherworldly in the way he managed to hit all the places that needed to be hit, filling you up perfectly again and again and again. Justin stayed close to you while he fucked you, his hips grinding in deep and putting just enough pressure on your clit to send sparks of pleasure through your whole body.

Your hands tightened in his hair, making him groan before dipping down and encapsulating one of our nipples with his hot, wet mouth.

“Jus- Justin.”

His teeth grazed against the soft flesh of your boob teasingly before his tongue delved down, soothing the hard peak between his lips in gentle laps. Justin groaned when you tugged on his hair and the sensation of it vibrating against your skin just made you tighten your grip further. There was no denying that you needed him. Him and his soft mouth and his hard dick and his strong body pressed against yours. This perfect wave of pleasure just kept building with every single movement but you couldn’t reach your high.

“Just—” He bit down hard enough for it to sting before his tongue traced the slight indents. “Please.”

You weren’t above begging but your fucked out brain couldn’t think of any more words. Thankfully he seemed to understand what you needed even without your saying it.

“Fuck. Okay.” He lifted himself a little bit higher, chuckling when you whined at the loss of his weight and warmth. “You asked for this.”

He sounded just the right amount of condescending when you clenched around him and he rewarded you with a “good girl”.

You didn’t last long after Justin started fucking you properly, rough and fast like you had wanted him to. The power behind his thrusts was enough to move you on the bed, closer and closer towards the headboard every time your bodies connected. He had stopped holding back and made you come with only a handful of thrusts.

When you came to it was with Justin holding himself above your body —breathing hard— and your still shaking thighs wrapped around his hips. Part of you felt disappointed for missing what he looked like when he came but you knew there would be more than enough orgasms for you to catch a glimpse.

It took you a while to feel secure enough to remove your legs from him. After you did so Justin carefully pulled out and disposed of the condom. While he went to get a towel to help clean you up you were left in his bed. It took some energy to sit up but it didn’t hurt. You felt empty but that could be changed soon enough. 15 minutes. Maybe 20. Depending on when Justin wanted to go again.

Speaking of. Justin returned to his bedroom, still gloriously naked, holding water bottles in one of his hands and what looked like a washcloth and a towel in the other. You didn’t feel self conscious as he helped you clean up. He had seen every part of you already anyway.

He offered you a shirt of his to cover up but you didn’t mind being bare before him. There was the hint of a love bite starting to form on your chest and you hated the thought of covering up all his hard work. Still, you made a mental note to take him up on his offer later. You had a feeling that a shirt that fit his large frame would swallow you up and you wanted nothing more than to live out the big men’s shirt moment that had been denied you for so long. 

Instead you curled up with him, his blanket half draped over your bodies while you just laid there, enjoying the closeness between you. The energy between Justin and you continued to be magnetic, even after giving in to your desires, and you found yourself unable to tame a wide smile.

“Happy?” Justin looked at you with a soft smile on his lips.

“Hmmm. Very.” You let your eyes wander for a moment. “Want to make out?”

Instead of verbally answering Justin just cupped your face and brought your mouths together in a saccharine kiss.

[radjoy]

it is so extremely irritating to me to see those posts that are like “if voting changed anything they wouldn’t let you do it” because i volunteered at polling places all though high school and college (my parents are very enthusiastic about democracy) and let me tell you, if you’re poor, they just about DONT let you do it. in 2020 i got assigned the rich gated community with attached country club, which somehow had its own polling place. rich men slacking off work would roll up in a golf cart, cast a ballot, and get right back to day drinking and golf. i heard a woman who’d just finished praying out loud for a trump presidency wonder why people were so worried about congestion at the polls on election day. there was one single democrat couple who told me they’d had a Hillary sign up in 2016 that kept getting set on fire.

meanwhile, my parents working downtown had about half the number of polling places for twice the number of people. there were hour-long waits. people who’d run out on their unpaid 30-min lunch break OBVIOUSLY could not take an extra hour to cast their ballot. even places you could vote early were 1) not open when most people were off work and 2) few and far between!

my state lets me order an absentee ballot without needing a specific reason, and i think that’s a great option if you can do it, but it can take a while to get mailed to you and back. now would be a good time to order that. voting early is also a good option if you can to reduce congestion on november fourth. i wish this was easier but i think it says something that this is so easy for people with a country club membership and so difficult for people who live downtown. don’t let the country club decide your future.

[you-can-be-what-you-want-to-be]

Ok so I finally read who’s afraid of Alexander J Newell bc… not a single person said what they were actually accused of. Not only is the article unreliable but even if it’s 100% true almost none of it is a big deal? Like no one has broken it down yet so I’ll do a small thing saying why it’s not legit and then explain the “issues” that the article actually talks about

Reasons it’s not accountable

1) the “journalist” does not have a degree of any kind

2) this is posted on a site that allows anyone without any verification or credentials to post. It is also seemingly the only place they’ve posted any news articles

3) they work with the competing company and repeatedly compare them

4) go between pounds and dollars throughout the article to skew numbers in their favor

5) they use the word allegedly every other sentence. You should k ow if it’s actual or alleged before starting a a smear campaign

6) (the biggest one imo) not a SINGLE rq source is named except by pseudonym. I don’t believe that dozens of people were willing to call out Harvey Winsting and Trump but that not a single person can talk about their job sucking in normal ways

7) state easily checkable misinformation like them paying minimum wage when they actually pay above that and the living wage (sad those aren’t the same thing but that’s neither here nor there)

8) the writer is 20 which is apparent if you read this and have ever had a job. At that age my brother quit a job bc his raise was less than a dollar amount within the first year, like all jobs. That was Taco Bell. Im not saying the journalist is on that level but think how much you knew about jobs at the time. I was convinced if I didn’t have the drink cart at the retail store done on time I would be fired instantly on the spot instead of nothing happening. I knew nothing. It’s about experience.

Now RQs alleged (their words not mine) crimes:

1) they pay minimum wage. Considering this started out as an unpaid venture between friends in a disco corridor of their house wouldn’t be bad. But also easily proven untrue

2) people joining were under the impression they wouldn’t have to follow the rules on their contract and that the rules were bendable and then they weren’t. It’s a contract guys.

The big issue with the contract is they want to make money back and ad revenue and such doesn’t make a lot. If they take 50% of everything (what they’re asking) and lent you $1000 it would take 62,500 downloads (most shows don’t break 20,000) for them to get their money back that they gave you if my math according to their own numbers is right. A real evil thing for them to do to pay you and your workers paychecks as well as a budget to make the thing you want and then dare to want to break even or heaven forbid profit.

3) you can’t leave a contract early. Again. It’s a contract. That’s how that works in an adult job. Also they’re mad they can later on use the product to advertise for themselves. Like “from the producers of” type of stuff and other general intellectual property stuff. Not great but if they’re paying to have it made it makes sense halfway through they don’t want you changing networks. You don’t start a show on Disney and end it on Netflix that’s just not how the world works. They bought the product, you don’t pay for someone to build a house and then Act like it’s reasonable they want to take it after.

4) that layoffs exist and happen sometimes? Unfortunate yes. Considering how normal that is and that half the article is about how bad RQ is at making money it should not be a surprise. When a company follows laws such as “pay workers” and doesn’t have the money to do it the solution is “have less workers” sorry to say.

5) that money from productions goes to services used to make those productions (acast)

6) that volunteers exist

7) they aren’t good at advertising their own shows

8) this is actually legitimately not great but again not horrible. They expect people to work 16-20 hours a week and they end up working a WHOLE 24 a week. This is in many places known as a part time job.

9) they think the show will pay more than it will but the Patreon doesn’t get enough and when it does they were still bad with ads so the projected amount was bad. They still get that living wage it’s just not the bonus they planned for. Everyone who works in retail or any job that involves making plan that you don’t account for bonus in your budget.

10) if you try to talk to management there’s a waitlist but if you try to talk to your projects team there’s no issue. Almost as if management runs 50+ projects and the project team only runs one 🤔

11) they’re hands off and let you do their thing. I’m not kidding this is a point in there that’s supposed to be bad

That’s about it. Like no it’s not a utopia or a fun thing where you do whatever and get free money. You can unfortunately tell it’s written by a 20 year old because they think a company ALLEGEDLY holding people to their contracts, paying minimum wage for a part time job, wanting to make money, and not knowing the exact amount of hours they’ll have for you or the amount of money a project will make for your bonus is worthy of writing an article about and being scandalized.

Before believing something check sources. If you don’t want to do that, at least read the article before deciding that somethings horrible and evil. There isn’t any dodged workers comp or wage theft or anything seriously upsetting. If the lack of any named sources or credentials or the fact it’s a competing network or the use of the word alleged 1000 times and the rewrites and misquotes other people have brought up don’t mean anything, then at worst this is all true and you might be asked to work a few extra fully paid hours a week and get paid minimum wage at a part time job and have to follow the rules you agreed to with little bonus. Oh no. I wonder what that’s like, what a nightmare.

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Mona with a reader that's bluntly honest

characters: Mona x gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: I know, I know. Me posting two days in a row has somehow become even rarer than a solar eclipse. But don't worry, this is still me, I didn't get replaced by a motivated, efficient writing robot yet.

This wasn't requested, I played Mona's story quest again and wanted to write for her, so yeah.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Mona

Mona may have been a great astrologer, never failing to surprise you with her research and prediction. But while she tended to be a bit too direct and honest the couple of times, she actually read other people’s fates, causing them to walk away way more bummed or annoyed than they had to be, most of her honesty vanished the moment the discussion shifted to any subject that she deemed to undermine her honour as the “greatest Astrologer in the whole of Teyvat”.

And while your— sometimes brutal—honesty made it so that Mona didn’t have to use her astrology on you in any way, she definitely wouldn’t mind you using a white lie every now and again.

Mona and you had been working on her research for what felt like hours now, and while you ought to have been tired by now, your unpaid work with the astrologist had made it so you sadly were used to it. You weren’t sure why the great Mona Megistus decided to pick you as her discipline when you didn’t have any astrology-related experience and weren’t even interested in the first place, but if you had to guess, it was probably your willingness to pay for her food, even if she’d never admit it, choosing instead to name your “potential” as her reason.

“Shouldn’t me take a break? I’m not sure if working for so long without one is good for someone”, you suggested, only for your “master”, or whatever she wanted you to call her in front of others, to let out a small laugh.

“Are you already tired? I’ll let you know that if you want to become as great of an astrologist as I am, you should get used to research for much longer”, she responded, seemingly enjoying herself, and while that was great and all, there was one thing she got wrong.

“I never wanted to become an astrologist, you just volunteered me for the position as your discipline-”, you barely managed to disagree before getting cut off by Mona.

“Let’s not get hung up on semantics-”, she responded, only to get herself cut off by the sound of her belly growling, causing her proud look to get immediately replaced by an embarrassed one. But before you even had the chance to open your mouth to say something, her glare politely dissuaded you from doing so.

“How about we take a break and eat at Good Hunter? It’s my treat”, you suggested once again, Mona seeming to be more open to your proposal this time around.

“Fine, while it’s not like I need you to pay for me, since you offered it so nicely, I accept”, she stated in her usual, proud tone.

“Oh, so you didn’t bankrupt yourself by using all of your money to buy a new tool this month?”, you asked, knowing the answer full well, but nonetheless enjoying every moment of her smirk disappearing.

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”, Mona didn’t miss a beat to accuse you, only to turn even more annoyed when you simply nodded in response. “You do know that telling a white lie is the polite thing to do at times, right?”, she asked, causing you to nod once again.

“You’d see right through my lies, so there’s not really any reason for me not to be honest”, you responded truthfully. Mona on the other hand remained silent for a few seconds, choosing instead to stare at you with a mix of disbelief and annoyance.

“How did they survive so long in this world?”, she asked herself out loud before letting out a sigh and closing her eyes for a second, only for her thoughts to get once again interrupted by none other than you.

“You are the astrologer here, just use astrology to find out.” Mona didn’t even have to look at your face to know that you wore some sort of self-satisfied grin, so she didn’t, choosing instead to turn around and march to the door, only to then speak up in a defeated tone.

“Let’s go eat something, I’m too hungry to deal with you for even a second longer.”

[angry-geese]

Hi there <3 I've read some of your works and i'm in love with your writing. May I please request a fluff gojo x fem!reader? Like they finished their work in the evening and spend the rest of the night together at home💕 It could be a oneshot or a hc, whichever you feel to write. Thank you so much ^^ I'm sorry just in case my request is somehow not really clear☺️

Of course! here you go <3

Mochi

Gojo Satoru x reader

Warnings: none! entirely fluff! this will quite literally rot your teeth. afab reader

a/n: this ended up being a little longer than I intended lol whoops

Word Count: 2.5k

Satoru Gojo is a busy man.

The strongest can't really take a break. He’s on call 24/7. People are pulling him in all directions simultaneously. With everything that's been going on, between the mess with Sukuna, and everything happening at the school, he’s been short on time.

He needs a break.

He's more tired than he lets on. He’s good at hiding it. Especially around his students. It's hard to pull him away from his work. He's insistent that he’s fine. When you’re around someone for so long, you learn to pick up when they aren't. He can pretend to be fine all he wants. You know otherwise.

Sometimes what the strongest needs is someone to boss him around.

He’s capable of taking care of himself. He’s proven that already. But worrying is in your nature. You care about him, of course you’re going to worry.

You were a first year when you met him, having just transfered schools after an incident involving a curse. In a matter of weeks your life had seemingly been flipped on its head. The switch took some time to get used to. Switching schools your first year, let alone switching to this one in particular, was never going to be easy. Getting used to the way Jujutsu society worked took a while. He was a year above you, and you remember absolutely hating him. Gojo was insufferable- or you found him to be such. But he was friends with Nanami, who was a friend of yours, so you reluctantly hung out with him. Nanami, being in the same year as you, was the first to help you out, extending a hand and helping you get used to the way things worked.

Spending time with him didn't do much to change your views. The two of you couldn't have been more different. You still are. But something about opposites attracts.

The first time you gave him the benefit of the doubt was the first time he saved your life.

It may be a bit of an over exaggeration. You’re certain you would have survived without his help, but that could also be an attempt to preserve your pride. You went after a curse, not expecting it to be as strong as it was. As far as you knew, it shouldn't have been stronger than a grade three. Being a grade two at the time, this should have been well in your ability. There ended up being more than one curse, and they were stronger than anyone had realized. You were in over your head.

It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known. It's not like you could pick and choose which curses you fought. As a student, that was decided for you.

You had resigned to your fate, separated from the others, injured. Nothing fatal. It left a cool scar, though. But you were well out of your league, put on an assignment far harder than you could deal with. You hate to admit defeat, but you had no other option.

Out of what seemed like thin air came Gojo, taking out both curses like it was nothing. Despite not liking him all that much, it was hard to not be impressed. He was strong. Stronger than you could ever hope to be.

You made it home in one piece.

It was three days before you’d finally confront him.

Getting him alone was hard enough. Being an underclassman, you didn't interact with him a whole lot. You didn't have any classes together. The few times you ran into him were when you hung out with Nanami, who was gone at the time.

When the opportunity presented itself, you took it, cornering him behind the school.

Even back then it was impossible to sneak up on him. He could sense you coming.

“Jesus-” he said, referring to you by your last name, “you look like you want to kill me.”

“You helped me out.” You said. “Why?”

He only shrugged. Not wanting to take that for an answer, you followed him. You were insistent you paid him back. You’d never let a debt like that go unpaid. The first debts are always the hardest to pay back. And when a first debt involves saving your life, well, you’ve got a lifetime to pay back. You only left once Gojo showed up. He needed to talk to Gojo about something, and although you were curious, you didn't feel like sticking around.

Gojo spent the next couple days scheming. You were determined enough you would do just about anything. He could have easily abused his power. It would have been even easier to force you to drop it, but something told him you weren't about to take no for an answer.

You wouldn't.

3pm in the bathrooms. It was hardly a week later. Your last class had ended for the day. You had snuck cigarettes in, blowing the smoke out of the crack in the window. You don't smoke anymore, but you went through nearly a pack a day in high school. There wasn't a specific brand you liked—you didn't necessarily like smoking, but you did it when you were stressed—you just used whatever you got ahold of.

You didn't hear the door open. Gojo wasn't the sneaky type, but he could be when he wanted. You weren't too hard to sneak up on.

If you didn't have contraband that likely would have gotten you expelled, you would have screamed when you saw him. He scared you, not to mention he snuck into the girl’s bathrooms. The two of you would be in equally deep shit if you reported the other. So at that moment you came to a silent agreement.

“You still want to pay me back?” He asked. “Cause I have an idea.”

You perked up at his words.

“Get me mochi from that shop just down the road. You know the one that just opened up?” He asked. “Bring me some and I’ll call us even.”

“That's it?” You asked. It was almost anticlimactic. But despite everything, he was insistent.

Gojo hasn't changed a whole lot since then.

He still has his sweet tooth. He still makes you get him mochi from that shop. It feels like you’re the ones keeping it in business nowadays.

You’re not quite sure who made the first move.

Soon you began spending more time together away from Nanami and Geto. You got along better than anyone—mostly you—ever expected. You weren't the most outwardly affectionate. While you were far from shy, pda wasn't really your thing. Gojo is the opposite. Even now, years after you began dating, he’s still clingy. You’ve gotten used to it. Gojo is possessive, he wants everyone to know you’re his. Not that they don't know already. He can't shut up about you.

Getting him alone has always been hard. Not much has changed in the past few years. He’s only gotten busier. Try to drag him away from work all you want, you rarely succeed.

Tonight he's come willingly. He finished his work early, and all you had left was stuff you could finish in the morning.

Nights at home like this—together—are rare. It feels like you hardly see him anymore. You often fall asleep alone, only to wake up to the other side of the bed being cold. He’s been so occupied with this business with Yuji, that he’s hardly had time for anything else. You sneak away during your breaks, like you’re teenagers again, stealing kisses between classes. You almost don't know what to do.

It almost feels like you should do something to celebrate.

The lights are off when you get home. Your apartment looks empty. Megumi must still be out with his friends.

“What should we do for dinner?” Gojo asks.

“Takeout?” You say. "I don't feel like cooking."

Gojo’s a decent cook, but he doesn't feel like doing so either. He’d get takeout every night if you’d let him. But that's not good for him (or Megumi) so you force him to do otherwise. Because you’re normally home, and you like baking, you’re usually the one to make dinner. There's not much in the fridge. You'll have to get groceries eventually. Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. It shouldn't take long.

“How does Korean barbeque sound?" He asks. "From that place down the street?”

"Sounds good,"

You find a menu buried in one of your kitchen drawers, stashed with other takeout menus. You pick out something—two meals, plus some sweet buns for dessert—he calls the restaurant. You pay the extra cash to have it delivered. Neither of you feel like going and picking it up. It's more convenient than the alternative.

The tv drones on in the background while you wait. There’s not much on tv at this hour. News, some late night soaps. While you do like your occasional soap opera, none that you normally watch are on. Gojo changes it to the news. The weather. It looks like it'll rain tomorrow morning, but the rest of the day is supposed to be warm.

"We should go to the park tomorrow," you say, "having a picnic sounds nice."

Gojo hums in approval. As long as you make those tea cakes—the ones with honey drizzled on top—he'll agree to tag along. Maybe you'll go check out the bookstore too. It's been a while since you've last gone.

You strip out of your uniform, pulling on some more comfortable clothes; a pair of shorts and one of Gojo's shirts. It smells like him. You can't help but bury your nose in the collar.

When there’s a knock at the door, Gojo is the one to answer. He returns with your food. You gather napkins and utensils. Gojo never saw the point in anything other than stainless steel chopsticks. Or wooden ones—those given to you with takeout—if he wasn't feeling up to doing dishes. You, on the other hand, bought all sorts of colorful ones and stands that may or may not have been lifted from various restaurants. That's one habit from your teenage years you never lost. You'd pocket almost anything that wasn't nailed down. Your apartment has a rather impressive assortment of salt and pepper shakers. Not to mention the box of hotel soaps you never use, but took because you "might" need it. He enables you, taking some whenever he stays out of town, bringing them home for you. Gojo can hardly say no to you.

Gojo settles next to you on the couch, his shoulder pressed to yours. He can't keep his hands off of you. He’s possessive by nature. Everyone has to know you’re his. He always has to be touching you. Not necessarily with his hands, but he presses his thigh against yours while sitting next to you, or his body pressed against yours from behind in public.

The two of you eat in relative silence. Gojo’s attention turns to the tv, but that doesn't stop him from practically laying on top of you. Occasionally he’ll sneak bites of your food, and you of his.

When you’re done, you clear away the empty containers, sitting any leftovers in the fridge. Gojo sprawls out on the couch. He easily takes up any bit of space. The couch can hardly fit all 6-foot-something of Gojo. It hardly fits you. You've been meaning to look for another one, but haven't found the time to.

He opens his arms, and instinctively you go into them. You move so you can rest partially against the arm of the couch, Gojo's head leaning against your shoulder. His arms loop around your waist, his fingers lacing over your stomach.

It doesn't take him long to begin to drift off. He falls asleep in the crook of your neck. The low sound of the tv, combined with the warmth of his body makes you want to drift off to sleep. Sleeping on the couch like this isn't very good for your (or his) back, but you don't want to move.

The next time your eyes open, some late night game show plays, disturbing your sleep with loud music. The clock on the wall reads some time past two. It's hard to read the minute hand. You gently shake Gojo awake. One of his eyes cracks open and he lets out a soft “hm?”

“Come to bed,” you say, your arms wrapping around his neck, “it's late.”

His eyes close, and for a moment you think he’s drifted back off to sleep, when his grip around you tightens, and he’s rolling over on top of you.

“I think I’ll stay here with you, mochi,” he says, planting a wet kiss to your neck. The feeling of his lips on your neck makes you shiver.

And though he doesn't move, there's a look in his eyes that tells you he has something planned. You only notice too late that his grip never loosens, and the mischievous glint to his eyes. You couldn't wiggle out of it if you wanted to. You're effectively trapped.

He litters your neck with kisses, sending you into a giggling fit, and he doesn't stop until you’re begging him to. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes from laughing. Your nails dig into your palms so hard they leave little crescent-shaped indents.

When you finally settle down, he’s pulling you into his arms bridal style, heading for your shared room. The bed is still unmade from this morning. Neither of you bothered to put it away. You were busy, and the thought slipped your mind.

Gojo shoves the covers aside, pulling you to lay on his chest. His fingers gently trace up the curve of your spine as he watches the steady rise and fall of your chest. Goosebumps prickle your exposed skin. He’s careful with how he touches you, loving, and soft. It's like he’s trying to memorize every inch of your body. His heartbeat is audible. Steady, and quet, acting as a lullaby. Your eyes shut, but you’re still awake. The intimacy of the moment doesn't go over your head.

He thinks he could die happy at this moment. Any moment, with you, really. Even during fights, or nights where he doesn't come home until long after you’ve fallen asleep, and you’re left irritated with his lack of time. As long as you’re by his side, he’s content.

He doesn't give much to the thought of settling down. His work will never let him. Neither does he think much about having any biological children. You practically have two already. Settling down isn't really an option for the strongest. This is the closest he’ll get to it.

For now, he just thinks about the park, and the blue sundress you always wear when you go.

Not many people can say they’ve changed who Satoru Gojo is as a person—let alone for the better—but you’ve changed him twice. Once in your meeting behind the school, and once again tonight. He’s found the one.

The first debt is always the hardest to pay back. But you've paid it in full.

[stilltrails]

Inherited Wealth

Being evicted was nothing new to Hal. It was to be expected when he spent months on end in space without paying his bills. Hell, sleeping on a park bench was second nature to him by now. But the tall, handsome billionaire offering to give him a place to stay for the night? That's new.

~

At least, this time, there hadn't been much to throw out. Because had that been the case, Hal would have had to haul everything he owned behind him as he began his walk of shame downton to the park. He’d learned to pack light since becoming a Green Lantern. Better for when the inevitable eviction notice came.

The night was cold,   fridging to the bone. Aside from his Father’s old jacket, a thin blanket,  sweat pants and a worn t-shirt, Hal didn’t have much to keep him warm. Not even his ring could help him now. He didn’t have much juice left, and he usually reserved his ring for self-defense on nights like this one. On top of that, his battery was in his work locker.

He did consider calling Carol, but it was her sister’s birthday and he didn’t think she’d be willing to let him couch surf on today of all days. Or she would, but he really, really didn’t want to deal with her berating and pity. Not tonight.

Coincidentally, Ollie and Dinah were at one of those uppity rich banquets in Coast City,  and even though Ollie always bragged about being “a phone call away”, Hal’s pride wouldn’t let him ask his billionaire friend to lend him a spot on the couch, not anymore. He couldn’t stand Ollie’s patronizing and Dinah’s constant worrying.

So there he was, arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, scouring through the park for a decent looking place to hunker down for the night.

The metal bench he picked for himself was cold to the touch, and had this been Hal’s first time homeless, he would’ve winced as his skin made contact. But long nights in space usually left a trail of unpaid bills and eviction notices. This was not his first rodeo.

So with his father’s jacket balled up underneath his head, Hal let himself drift off to sleep.

-

“Damnit Hal!”

“Ollie, stop, yelling at him–”

“Does this happen often?”

“He usually gets behind on bills when he goes offworld, but he never lets me pay his bills for him.”

“Can you put him on automatic payments?”

Hal did not expect his sleep to be interrupted by an argument, and he certainly didn’t expect the offended party to consist of Ollie, Dinah, and some incredibly handsome looking, vaguely familiar, guy staring down at him.  Dinah’s brows were knitted in that frustrated way like always, concern bleeding off of her like the mother he never had.

She brought a warm hand to his forehead, wincing at the coolness.

“Din..ah?”  Immediately Hal tugged at the corners of the thin blanket as he shook from the stupor of sleep. Dinah was right, it was freezing. Somehow, Dinah’s plush feather boa had snaked its way around his body, and had served as a rather itchy lasso as she tugged Hal into a sitting position.

Dianna would be proud. But Hal absolutely wasn’t. This was humiliating.

“What are you doing here, I thought you were at some rich people's banquet.”

“It ended like two hours ago and since we’re in the area, we wanted to pick you up to go eating. Only your landlord said you were evicted and probably went to either the homeless shelter or the park. A small part of me thought you’d be smart enough to go to the shelter, at least. Or to one of the places I have here in Coast City, but like always you decide to make things unnecessarily complicated.”

Ollie was angry. Angrier than Hal had seen him in a while. It made sense, they were close, and the last time Hal had hunkered down on a bench, he’d gotten robbed and beaten. But Hal didn’t want to go to the homeless shelter, not when there were actual homeless people who needed the beds.

“Ollie, it’s fine. I’ve got my ring at like 2%, I could take anyone who tried to get me.”

“Hal, please shut the fuck up. You could’ve called you know. You know I would’ve dropped everything for you, right?”  Ollie groaned, “I want you to call me, this shouldn’t be happening again. Just—you know what, let me just call Barry, because I don’t think I can take you to my place anymore without losing my shit.”

“Wait, please, it’s really not that bad! I’m fine.”

“Ollie, calm down. Hal, you should have called,” Dianh reprimanded them both, “I know it’s difficult to ask for help, but we’re your friends. That’s why we’re here.”

You’re just a burden, they just pity you. They don’t really care.

“It’s fine, I’ll be fine. I’ll go to the shelter,” Hal relented, “Just please, don’t call Barry.”

He wasn’t ready to confront Barry tonight. Ollie he could handle. But Barry’s pity would utterly break him.

“I’m walking with you.” Dinah said, “If you won’t come with us, let’s just make sure you actually get to the shelter.”

“I’ll take him.” The tall handsome stranger with the pale blue eyes spoke, and Hal’s head jolted towards him. He’d forgotten he was there, as he’d blended so well into the darkness like some sort of shadow.

Spooky.

“Um…Thanks, but I don’t know who you are. I’m not going to be your charity case.”

“Who said you’d be my charity case? I’ll let you stay at my place for the night. In return, you wash my car, dishes, and vacuum the place.”

“Don’t you have like a servant for that shit?”

“I left my butler in Gotham, and the penthouse tends to get a bit dirty without him.”

“Then hire someone, I’m not your damn  maid.” He didn’t mean to sound so snappy, but he had little tolerance for rich assholes who thought they could look down on him.

Yet despite his tone, the dark haired man only smirked.

“Fix my private jet then?” Suggested the man, smugly, “It got a bit damaged when I left Gotham and I gave my pilot the week off.”

Fixing an airplane for a warm place to stay, he could get behind that. He still didn’t like the implication that he was some idiot off the street that anyone could hire for no reason, but at least it wasn’t cleaning. And Hal knew how to bargain.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” He answered just as he would to any business deal.

“Great, we’ll check it out first thing in the morning. For now, let’s go to the penthouse.”

“Unbelievable,” Ollie muttered, crossing his arms.

“Hey, at least he’s going with someone, that’s a win, right.” Dinah offered, “maybe next time you can just hire Hal and he’ll come stay with us.”

Ollie rolled his eyes and said his goodbyes, not before embracing Hal and tossing him his woolen coat, “Keep it. But if you sell it you can get like….$1500.”

“Thanks Ollie, I’ll keep that in mind,” Hal called after his friend, “and thanks again, Dinah.”

Dinah smiled sadly, giving Hal the, we’re going to need to talk about this later, look. And Ollie pulled him into a tight hug, “Please Hal, don’t let this happen again.” He whispered into his ear.

Hal nodded, a twinge of guilt sparking in his gut.

“Take good care of him Bruce.” Ollie called as he wrapped an arm around Dinah’s waist, “I’ll come check on him in the morning.”

“I’m not a baby Ollie.” Hal called over.

“Yeah Hal, whatever you say.”

__

As they walked to the mysterious man’s car, Hal couldn’t help but feel uneasy about him. Not because he was some random stranger that had offered to take him home (he was with Ollie, and despite Ollie’s reputation, he wouldn’t let Hal walk away with someone who was dangerous), but because he seemed so utterly familiar.

Even through the jokes and the friendly banter, something seemed off about him. m

Regardless, Hal appreciated that he didn’t hound him on being poor, nor did he infantilize him like Ollie and Dinah unintentionally did (not that he blamed Dinah much. She’d hit rock bottom too before).

Though he did hold the door open for him, gesturing for him to get in, “You’re my guest, after you.”

“What, you don’t have a chauffeur so you have to practice yourself.” Hal jokes. The man only smiled, closing the door behind Hal and moving to the otherside of the car.

It wasn’t until Hal slid into the passenger seat of the man’s very expensive car did his entire demeanor change.

“Asking for help isn’t a weakness, Hal.” He turned towards him, a scowl etched into his features, “You could have been hurt. We need you on the team, you’re an important asset. Your recklessness…”

As the man continued with his random rant, Hal began to piece two and two together.

The name Bruce, the pale blue eyes, the voice…

“Oh my gooooddddd.”

[the-cult-of-russo]

Biggest regret (part 3)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: So many of you guys love this story and I love it. Thank you guys 😊

So this one really went off on a tangent and it's longer than I thought. But I didn't wanna rush this and I'm enjoying this story. So he doesn't meet his kid yet, that's in the next part that I'm writing right now. Then there will be another part that I've got in mind too.

Warnings: cursing, angst, sadness, fluff kinda, emotional Billy.

-----------

Delilah cooed happily where she was perched in a little rocker seat. It was vibrant pinks and yellows with a bar along the top and little stuffed animal shapes dangling off it that she swatted with her chubby hands. 

You were cleaning. Stress cleaning to be precise. Ever since you got that letter from Billy you'd felt out of sorts. You really hadn't expected it. You'd spent the better half of the start of your pregnancy thinking he'd come to his senses. That he'd turn up and say sorry or even call or text. But by the end of the pregnancy you realised you'd asked too much of him. That maybe you didn't know him as well as you thought. 

It had been a bitter pill to swallow having him just walk out of your lives like that. Your pregnancy hadn't been easy by any means and that only made it harder. You had no family, no real friends. You'd been completely alone. Every time you ended up at hospital the nurses took pity on you. Seeing you so sick with no visitors or help. It had been hard. 

Since Delilah could return home, one of your neighbours in your complex had taken to helping you. Louise was a woman in her 60s and before now you'd only ever seen her in passing with a murmured hello. But seeing you struggle as a single mother, she'd taken you under her wing and helped you immensely. 

You had to work from home since you had the baby. The time off with unpaid maternity leave when she was born and was sick had set you back quite a bit and now you were struggling. You'd had to leave your job since there was no way you could do it from home and you didn't have child care or the money to do it. And honestly, after having Delilah, the overwhelming urge to keep her safe was shocking. You didn't really want to leave her with someone you didn't know. It had been hard for you to agree to it with Louise who would occasionally have her for an hour or two so you could catch a break. And she was literally only next door which eased your mind a little. 

Now you were doing proofreading and transcription work from home and it didn't exactly pay great. You got by though and you made do with what you had. You just didn't expect things to go this way. You still remember when you found out you were pregnant and told Billy. It had been a huge shock to you and despite the nagging feeling that this was how it would end, you stupidly hoped it would be different. 

~

You sat on the bed, the test in your hands as the two pink lines glared at you. You were pregnant. You had a baby in your belly. You felt like you couldn't breathe. You and Billy weren't even super serious. There were feelings involved but neither of you mentioned it. Opting instead to pretend they weren't there. You were scared if you told him you loved him that he'd run for the hills and he was scared of feeling anything at all. 

You'd been 'together' for nearly two years. You weren't officially boyfriend and girlfriend, there were no labels slapped on you both. But everyone knew you were his and he was yours and it worked just fine. But now there was a baby. Now things got serious way quicker than you expected and you were terrified. 

You weren't ready to be a mom. You'd never put much thought into having kids and you didn't know how to be a mother. You'd have a tiny human that depended on you to keep them safe and loved. How the fuck would you manage that? And then there was Billy. You'd have to tell him and you felt sick with worry about how he would react. 

You knew about his childhood, you knew pretty much everything about each other. He'd never known love as a child and you hoped that would mean it would force him to want to be there and be a good dad. But you knew him well enough to have the worry that it would have the opposite effect and he'd freak out. 

He'd been at work and you'd been at his place. You didn't live with him, you still had your own place. But you stayed there most nights or he would be at yours. You never spent a night away from each other. 

You heard the front door open and close and you felt a wave of dread settle over you. Like an ice cold blanket snaking around your entire body as it squeezed. You had to tell him. You had to hope he would be okay with this. You knew you'd keep the baby regardless. Despite only knowing for literal minutes, you cared about this baby. This baby was a piece of you and a piece of Billy. There was no way you couldn't keep them.

"Hey, sweetheart! I'm home!" You heard him call from the living room. You swallowed thickly as you stood on shaky legs, stuffing the test in the pocket of your hoodie. You made your way to the living room as he shucked off his jacket. He looked handsome as always and he flashed you a warm smile when he saw you. But it fell when he took in your anxiety induced state.

"What's wrong?" He asked carefully, black eyes scanning over you like he was checking if you were hurt. Your throat tightened as you felt your eyes prickle and you willed the tears away. 

"Uh… you should sit down. We need to talk," you murmured softly. He frowned, tilting his head as he regarded you.

"Sounds ominous," he replied dryly. He complied though and moved to sit on the sofa. You opted to stay standing near the coffee table.

Your whole body felt like it was shaking and you felt in your bones that this was the moment where everything would change. Either for better or worse, but change was coming and it hurt your heart. You needed to just tell him, get it over with. You inhaled a shaky breath as you looked at him. His face was etched in concern and he was patient with you, watching all the emotions pass over your face.

"I'm pregnant," you blurted, grabbing the test from your pocket and handing it to him. His eyes almost popped out of his head and he grabbed the test, staring at it. You couldn't get a good read on his face other than the surprise and you didn't like that. He was staring at it hard and you knew he was deep in thought. That cold dread came back and sunk its claws into you. 

Suddenly, he tossed the test on the coffee table, springing out of his seat and moving around to the back of the couch like he wanted to get far away from you.

"No," he frowned. You blinked dumbly at him for a moment as your eyes burned.

"No?" You asked softly. His dark eyes pinned you in place then. For a brief moment you saw utter pain and complete panic, eyes glassy with unshed tears. But then all emotion left his face, left his eyes, and it felt like a punch to the gut. You'd seen that look on his face before but never directed at you. 

"I'm not… I can't do this. I don't want a kid," he said coldly. The lump in your throat got bigger as you nodded. What else could you say? You could cry and scream and fight but what was the use? Part of you expected this although you hoped for something else. You couldn't force him to stick around. If he wanted out then you had no choice but to let him. 

You felt tears slip down your face as you glared at the floor, lower lip quivering. You couldn't look at him. The pain you felt was unbearable. Pain for yourself for losing him, pain at how cold he was being, and pain for your baby for having a dad that didn't want them. Did Billy even realise he was continuing the cycle of his own upbringing? 

You felt his eyes burning into you but you couldn't look. You had so many things you wanted to say but they all caught on the lump in your throat. Without a word, he grabbed his jacket and left, slamming his door behind him so loud you jumped. You sobbed then, moving to curl up on the sofa as you let it all out. He was gone. You'd have to do this all alone and you missed him already despite him leaving you like this. 

You were unsure of how long you lay on his sofa sobbing your heart out until your phone chimed with a message. Stupidly you thought it was Billy saying sorry. It was Billy, but he definitely wasn't apologising.

'I'll be back in two hours. Pack all your shit and be gone before I get home. Don't contact me again.' 

You felt a surge of anger and bitterness seep into you then. You thought he'd cared. Never had he told you how he felt about you but he acted like he cared. Introduced you to the Castle's, his family. But clearly you were wrong. His message was loud and clear. You didn't respond, there was no need. He wanted to never hear from you again and that was fine. You packed anything of yours and left within an hour, your heart heavy with pain, hurt and anger. 

~

When you got his letter, at first you were angry. You wanted to be petty. Wanted to ignore it or send him one back telling him to go fuck himself. But you'd looked at your daughter then with her sweet smile and her dad's eyes and you couldn't. Because despite what he'd done, she deserved her dad. 

You hadn't responded to the letter right away. Two weeks you kept reading it and coming to terms with all the emotions it brought you. You knew you still cared about him even after what he'd done. You couldn't help it. But his letter sounded so sincere and the self loathing in his words tugged at your heart. He'd fucked up big time, but he was trying to fix it. Billy was a proud man and you knew it took him a lot to reach out to you. You wanted Delilah to get to know her dad and wanted her to have a relationship with him. 

You had a lot to work through and you and Billy would need some serious talks to be able to co-parent properly, but you'd do it for Delilah. There wasn't a thing in the world you wouldn't do for that girl. 

So you'd replied and now you've been waiting for his call. You were full of nerves and you could taste the emotions lingering from the day he left in the back of your throat. You felt like you were in some kind of limbo. 

After stress cleaning for a bit and looking after Delilah, you sat on the sofa with the TV on low as she snoozed in her little seat. You felt lucky she was such a chill baby. The pregnancy and birth had been harder to deal with and you thought having her would be difficult but it hadn't been that hard for you. Louise kept telling you that you had natural maternal instincts and that you'd picked it up easily. 

You tried to pay attention to the screen when your phone buzzed from your pocket. Your heart skipped a beat as you got it out. It was a number you didn't recognise and your breath started coming in shorter because you knew just who it would be.

"Hello?" Your voice shook a little as you answered and you heard a soft sigh on the other end. 

"Hey, Y/N, it's Billy," his voice was smooth like always but it sounded off. A little raw. 

"You got my letter then," you murmured. You rolled your eyes at yourself for stating the obvious but you didn't know what else to say. Never had it been so stilted and awkward to talk to Billy. 

"Yeah… and I know you asked me to really think about it, so I did. And I wanna be there. I'd like to… I'd like to meet her if I can," he sounded apprehensive and you wondered if he thought that you'd reject him even after telling him in the letter you wanted them to meet. 

"Okay… I'd like to meet up with you first. We have a lot to talk about that needs dealing with before you meet her," you said firmly. This you wouldn't budge on. There was a lot of unresolved tension and feelings around you both and one quick meeting with him wouldn't fix that, but you wanted to clear some air before he came to meet Delilah so it wasn't completely tense. You also wanted to make sure he really was 100% with this or you wouldn't allow it to happen. You wouldn't let her get hurt. 

"Yeah, I'll do… anything you need. Whatever you want," he answered quickly. You nodded even though he couldn't see it, happy that he wasn't fighting you on it. He seemed like he genuinely wanted to take this seriously which was good.

"Right… uh… I can… I can meet you today. The diner down the street from my place? About 6pm?" You asked softly. You heard him sniffle a bit down the phone and you started to wonder if he'd come up with an excuse about work. You knew he worked late a lot. 

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll be there," he said resolutely. This was a good start already.

"I'll see you then, bye Billy," you murmured. 

"Bye, Y/N," he replied softly. You hung up and blew out a breath, your shaking hands gripping your phone. You hadn't heard his voice in over a year and it had your heart hammering away against your ribcage. You still loved him but the love was tainted with pain and betrayal. You'd have to stuff it down for the sake of your daughter. 

You didn't bother to change out of your jeans, boots, tee and hoodie and after asking Louise if she could look after Delilah for a bit, you set off out. You'd told Louise everything. She already knew what happened with Billy and you'd even let her read his letter. While she wasn't happy he'd walked away in the first place, she was happy he was trying to step up now. You were glad she was supporting you with this. 

You got to the diner five minutes early and fully expected to have to wait. But when you got inside, Billy was already sitting in a booth. He looked shit scared and his fingers drummed on the table restlessly. As you approached, his head snapped up. So many emotions crossed his face as he looked at you that you couldn't keep up with them. But when it settled on heartbreak you felt your own squeeze painfully in your chest. 

He stood up as you got to the table and there was an awkward moment where you both looked at each other. He looked tired. He had dark rings around his eyes and his usually perfect hair was a little dishevelled. He had on casual clothes and his leather jacket. He took a step closer like he was going to hug you and you stepped back without thinking. His face fell a little and he nodded, the movement stiff but he seemed to understand you weren't ready for it. 

He moved to sit down and you sat opposite him. It was so tense you could cut the air with a knife and you didn't even know where to start. The waitress came over then and gave you both a bright smile and you both ordered coffee. Once she was gone the tense atmosphere was back.

"I'm sorry," Billy muttered brokenly. Your eyes looked up at him then and he was staring at you with shiny eyes. Your throat constricted and you cleared it.

"Billy-" you started with a frown. He cut you off though.

"I know… I know I'm the biggest asshole out there. I don't deserve you sittin' here or givin' me a chance. But I want you to know that… I thought about you and the baby… Delilah… every damn day. And I-I hated myself for walkin' away. And I can't take back what did, but I can be better. I want to be better. And I'm sorry I hurt you and I'm sorry I left. But I'm serious when I say I wanna be here. You said I'm in or out and I want in. And I swear, I fuckin' swear that I'll prove to you I'm a better man," he said imploringly, leaning his forearms on the table as he watched you. 

You blinked at him, collecting your emotions as the waitress came over with the coffees. She didn't linger, sensing the heaviness of whatever was happening in your booth. 

"I'm glad you're here, Billy. And it's gonna take work for us to… to be okay around each other. But Delilah is the focus here and you deserve to have a relationship with her. You're her dad," you said softly. He sneered, not at you but himself, as he shook his head.

"No… no I'm not. I haven't been there. Sure she's mine, my DNA, my blood, but… I walked out. I left you, I left her and you both needed me. I'm not a dad, not yet. But I'll do whatever it takes to show you I'm worthy of bein' her dad," his voice shook yet was also firm and you knew in your heart he meant his words. It settled you a bit to know he really was serious about this. 

"I'll be honest… part of me expected to come here and you wouldn't be ready. That you were talking shit for whatever reason. But I believe you. I wish it hadn't taken this long but I'm glad you're here now, Billy. It's been… so fucking hard doing this alone," your hands were around your cup and you stared at them as you spoke, your voice quiet among the light buzz in the diner. 

You heard his breathing hitch and looked at him again. His fists were clenched and his head was lowered which made it hard to read his face. His whole body was tense and you were about to open your mouth to ask if he was okay when you noticed his shoulders shaking slightly. Oh. 

He sucked in a breath as a broken sob left his lips and it ripped a hole right through your chest. Now matter what he'd done, seeing him this way was jarring. You'd seen many sides to Mr Billy Russo and you'd even seen him cry before. But he looked so worn down and broken and it hurt you even if it was his own fault. 

His elbows resting on the table, he brought his hands up and rested his head on them as he openly sobbed. You never thought you'd see the day that Lieutenant Russo cried in a public space but he seemed beyond caring. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you stood and moved to his side. You slid into the booth next to him as your own eyes welled up and you reached out a shaky hand to stroke the back of his neck. He tensed at first like he hadn't even noticed you'd moved which was startling given how perceptive he was about everything around him. But then he relaxed and moved his face from his hands and turned to look at you. Tears were streaming down his face and he looked younger and vulnerable. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and he didn't hesitate to bury his face in your neck as his own arms held you tightly. You stroked his hair softly, trying to soothe him a little. You couldn't help it. Maybe it was that maternal instinct that always hated when someone was upset around you or maybe it was just the fact that no matter what happened, you did still care.

"It's okay, Billy," you whispered through your own tears. He shook his head where it was still pressed against your now damp neck.

"No it's not. I fucked up. I shoulda been there," his voice was muffled and broken with his soft sobs that were slowly easing and you held him a little tighter. 

"You did fuck up but you're here now and that's what matters," you murmured. You pulled away and he let you go reluctantly as he sniffled and looked down. You reached up and wiped his cheeks with your hoodie sleeves and then he looked at you. 

"We can't change the past, Billy. Yeah, you messed up, and yeah it hurt me. But you already missed out on so much and that's a punishment in itself. Things aren't gonna be easy and it'll take time for us to heal, but you're here now and Delilah needs you. That's what matters," you uttered, hands falling from his face. 

He sniffled again as he nodded, his obsidian gaze searching your face like he was looking for something. 

"I don't… I don't have the words because thank you doesn't even come close. I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you helpin' me out and I don't deserve Delilah. I didn't really think I'd hear from you and now here you are, fuckin' comforting me in a diner when it should be the other way around," he lamented with a frown. 

"I don't like seeing you cry," you shrugged with a weak smile as your hands toyed with the sleeves of your hoodie. He gave you a small smile back as he nodded. A silence settled over you both then and it was slightly awkward. You knew he was probably embarrassed and also still beating himself up. Once upon a time you'd be glad to know how hard he was being on himself over this. But seeing him like this was painful. 

There were still a lot of things to sort through with the pair of you but they weren't the priority. The first and most important thing was him establishing a relationship with his daughter. You figured in time things would get easier with him and he seemed dead set on being here now. And you could see the genuine remorse for walking away so you knew he was serious. 

"I should go. But uh���" you murmured as you stood from the booth, Billy following suit. 

"You can… you can meet her tomorrow if you'd like? I could… I don't know, make dinner for us all? You could come by my place and meet her before dinner?" You suggested, voice laced with uncertainty. His face lit up then even with his slightly damp cheeks and shiny eyes. His smile was bright even if it was hesitant. 

"I'd really like that," he nodded as he gazed down at you. 

"Okay… good. Uh… come by around 5?" It still felt awkward between you and you hated it. It used to be so easy between the two of you. 

 "I will… thank you, Y/N," he murmured sincerely. You nodded and gave him a little smile. He stepped forward and this time you didn't step back. The hug didn't last long but it took you back to a time when things were good with the pair of you. Where you felt safe in his strong arms surrounded by his calming scent. It sent a pang through your chest. You hugged him back before he moved away and you gave him another nod before you left. 

By the time you were walking in your complex you had tears down your cheeks. It had been hard to see him after everything. Hard to see him such a mess too. You had that feeling, the same one you did the day you found out you were pregnant. That things were changing, this was a turning point. Only this time it was a good one. 

It was hard to wrap your head around after all this time that he'd be there. Of course there would be a period of adjustment where he got to know his daughter, but eventually he'd be parenting just like you. It was a strange feeling to comprehend that you wouldn't be alone in this anymore. 

Seeing him and speaking to him, it had eased some of the bitterness that you'd held for him. Not completely but quite a bit. You couldn't hold onto the anger and pain of the past, not when Delilah needed this. You'd never be able to go back and redo how things happened but you could close that chapter and start a new one. One where Billy was actually around and your daughter had a dad. Despite the nerves for the dinner the next day, you were also a little excited and hopeful. 

[rivers-rambles21]

The one with the surprise

Part 5 of The one where Bucky has a cute neigbour series!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader (f)

Summary | Reader and Bucky become friends after he saves her from  a creep in their apartment building. Each chapter explores a different  point in their friendship - very slow burn!

Warnings | 18+ only, Smut in later chapters (this is a slow burn), swearing, unprotected sex, oral sex, cockwarming (later chapters)

Will include elements of TFATWS in later chapters

Chapter 5 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 1 | Masterlist

“C’mon, where are you taking me doll?”

Bucky trailed behind you, his feet dragging as he continued to moan about your late night adventure. You’d lured him out with a promise of pizza but as you exited the train in Queens, his mood had turned sour. 

“Not much further, I promise” You waited for him to catch up and looped your arm through his. “Have I ever steered you wrong?” 

“Pineapple on pizza comes to mind” He muttered, eyes darting around the quiet street.

With a sigh you dug into your purse and retrieved your secret weapon “I’ll give you these if you stop whining” You shook the bag of cashews you’d picked up from the store in front of his face before swiftly moving it from his grasp. “Nope! Hey!” Bucky had made a grab for the bag but you’d quickly anticipated his move and spun on the spot, taking it out of reach. 

As you turned, Bucky’s arm moved with you, pulling him into your back as you bent over in an attempt to stop him from getting his snack.

You laughed as he snaked his arm around your side, pulling you flush against him as he tried to take the bag from you, his fingers brushing your sides in an attempt to tickle you. 

With a jolt, your ass pressed back into him in a vain attempt to free yourself from his grasp. You both stilled as your behind pressed into his crotch, acutely aware of just what you were feeling. Bucky was the first to act and swiftly removed his arms from around you, glancing around in embarrassment. 

Standing straight, you adjusted your dress which had become dislodged. “Shall we?” You asked, trying to act as though nothing happened. 

“Yep.” He responded, a bit too quickly. 

To try and ease the tension, you ripped open the bag of nuts. “Here” You threw one toward him which he caught with his mouth effortlessly. “Thanks doll” 

You smiled back and looped your arm back into his, directing him down the road. 

A few minutes later you arrived at your destination and you held your breath as you both looked up at the building. 

“What do you think?” 

Bucky simply glanced down and smiled at you, his white teeth catching the light from the street lights. 

“This is one of the very few perks I get with my job, I figured who better to enjoy it with?”

“How do we get in?” Bucky asked, pulling you towards the doors at the front. 

“Security will let us in, they’ll be doing the odd patrol as standard but apart from that, we’ll have the place to ourselves” 

“Y/n… this is incredible” 

“Yeah well… I knew you wouldn’t come here because of the crowds and I didn’t want you to miss out.”

You’d brought him to the New York Hall of Science in Queens way past closing time. After dedicating to a ridiculous amount of unpaid overtime, your boss had finally relented and given you access to the contacts who ran the museum. Using your company's connections, you’d manage to swindle full exclusive access to the museum for the entire night. 

Over the past few months you’d picked up on Bucky’s interests, one of them being technology. Despite spending most of the last 70 years in a big freezer, he loved technology of the modern age, often speaking of the projects Shuri was working on in Wakanda.

You spent the next hour or so strolling around the many exhibits, reading up on each subject and interacting with the activities throughout the building. Bucky didn’t know where to look next, each section of the museum peaking his interest more and more. 

“Okay so I may have one more surprise for you” You confessed as you gently steered him towards the theatre.

Bucky remained silent as he felt himself become overwhelmed. He was genuinely touched by the thought you’d put into the entire evening, slightly bewildered why you even bothered with him in the first place. He knew he could be hard work, he often spent days being a miserable bastard, responding with only sarcasm. Yet you stuck around and got to know him and his quirks. Heck the two of you had gotten that close you knew how he’d been eager to pay a visit to the museum but hadn’t due to the worry of being recognised.

He’d now stopped kidding himself and accepted he felt something more than friendship for you. At first he brushed his feelings off as purely physical as afterall it had been over 70 years since he’d been with a woman and he’s not blind. Everything you did drove him insane. It took all his self control to stop himself from kissing you senseless every time you hung out. 

The closer you both got, the deeper he fell for you. He tried his best to find fault with you but he came up short every time. 

He loved how easy you were to talk to, how you never pushed him too far or tried to change him into something he’s not. He loved how selfless you were, always thinking of others before yourself. He also loved how thoughtful you were, constantly coming up with plans or ideas on what you both could do so he wasn’t cooped up in his apartment all day. 

Bucky had fallen hard.

“Now we do have other options if you’re not feeling it but I thought we could watch the original Dracula!” 

Bucky couldn’t hold back his smile as you looked up at him with excitement etched across your face. All he wanted to do was kiss you. 

“So what do you think?” You asked, waiting for his response. 

“I think you’re incredible.” You beamed up at him and led him into the quiet theatre which was housed within the museum. 

“Grab a seat and I’ll be right back” 

Bucky nodded in response and picked one of the seats in the middle of the empty theatre, pulling his phone out as he did. He flicked through some of the pictures you had both taken throughout the evening, landing on the one of you both in the space exhibit. He’d bent down to your level for the photo to be taken, your arms not quite long enough to get you both in frame otherwise. You’d flashed a smile for the photo, leaning back into him, pressing your face against his as he did his best to pose for the photo. It had been a long time that he’d had a photo taken that wasn’t linked to a crime. Smiling to himself, he updated his settings and set it to his background. 

The lights then dimmed and the screen changed as the movie began. A moment later the door swung open and closed as you entered the theatre, your shoes stomping down the isles as you raced over to Bucky, eager to get there before the film started.

“I remember seeing this when it first came out.” Bucky confessed, a small smile gracing his face as he recalled the memory. “Me and Steve snuck in shortly after it started, we were too broke and young to get in on our own. He was so worried we’d get caught he spent the entire movie watching the door.” 

You laughed along with him, struggling to imagine the Captain America you’d seen on the news sneaking into a movie theatre. Reaching into your bag, you pulled out the blanket you had brought with you and covered you both in it, sinking into the warmth it gave as the movie began.

Although it was a horror, you both couldn't help but laugh at some of the scenes, special effects had come a long way since the 30’s. 

The evening had gone exactly as planned. You’d wanted to do something special for Bucky for a while, knowing he didn’t venture out much due to the large crowds making him a bit uneasy.

Your friends at work had teased you about it after they heard the hoops you had jumped through to pull the entire thing off; knowing you wouldn’t put in so much effort for someone you regarded as just a friend. 

You’d wanted your relationship with Bucky to develop into something more for a while now; you couldn’t deny the attraction you had with him and the bond that had developed. Deep down though, you knew he had a lot going on that he needed to work through and you didn’t want to get in the way of that. You heard his tortured screams on a night as the nightmares took a hold of him. You never brought it up but you saw how it affected him. The dark circles under his eyes were always a dead give away.

Although your body craved something more with him, you were content on leaving things how they were. You genuinely enjoyed spending time with him and wouldn’t risk losing it.

It was the early morning when you both left the museum, having thoroughly enjoyed yourselves. Due to the late hour you agreed on hailing a taxi and sat in comfortable silence on the journey home as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Begrudgingly you watched as Bucky paid the driver as you reached your apartment building and accepted his hand as he helped you out of the cab. 

“Thank you for tonight” 

“Don’t mention it” You replied as you entered the empty elevator, pressing the button for your floor. 

“The last person who did anything like that for me was Steve” He confessed as he rubbed the gold markings on his vibranium hand, not quite knowing what to do with himself.

“You’re making me blush Serg” The nickname slipped out without you realising and you glanced a peak over at the man beside you. 

He simply shook his head, grinning to himself as he followed you out of the elevator. 

[writeradamanteve]

After Much More Consideration Than Is Warranted for Someone Who Didn’t See the Episode

I have a lot to say, and if you choose to disregard it because you think I don’t know what I’m talking about, feel free to skip.

But if you’re open to my thoughts on all this, buckle up. This is not for the faint of heart or “To All the Boys I Loved Before” crowd—

I’ve had a good night’s sleep and a lot of kvetching on Discord behind me. I’ve had a few hours to think and here’s what I’ve ended up with:

On Betty Hooking Up With Archie

As unpalatable to me as the B*archie plot is, I am of the firm belief that ultimately, Betty has every right to fuck whomever she wants.

Do I hate that she chose Archie? Yes. Did I think this was something Betty and Archie could walk back? No. Would I feel as terrible if she slept with Sweet Pea? Or Reggie? Or Farmer McGinty? Not in the least. I simply hate it because it’s Archie, and I’ll explain in a bit why these earlier thoughts are problematic, but I’ll go into the other better reason I hate this plot: I hate it because this is the third time in five seasons we have to deal with this. I’m tired of it. I have to watch these writers shoehorn this plot in for whatever stupid and misguided reason they have: that Betty’s trauma is making her do it and that they need to have Jughead and Archie have some kind of blowout. Like, can’t they think of anything better?

BUT be that as it may, this plot is here, and so now we come to why assigning hate to this plot “because it’s Archie” is problematic. I asked myself: should it really matter? Objectively, no. Its been 7 years. Jughead shut her down in a voicemail, and as far as she’s concerned, Jughead didn’t want her anymore. Archie’s clearly a selfish prick, but he definitely has no issues about sleeping with his supposed Best Friend’s ex because Reggie, his football bro-dude, did it to him with Veronica and it turned out he was OK with it. He is applying the same here, and ultimately, if Jughead has to find out that Betty and Archie were boinking indiscriminately, he needs to remember that he cut that chord when he left that voicemail. He might not have known it then, but he knows it now, and he has to examine his own part in unraveling that Blue & Gold thread.

On Jughead Womp

Listen, all. I love Jughead, and given everything that’s happened in these episodes, I feel for him. I feel like in some respects, the other characters could be nicer to him, but let’s get one thing straight. Jughead had a lot to do with his own misery and misfortune. Our precious soft boy caused many of the things happening to him now—his distance from Betty, the way the Serpents aren’t forgiving, his writer’s block, his failed relationships, and maybe even the eventual demise of his writing career (if he did send Cora’s manuscript and passed it off as his. At any rate, if he did a “Punching and Fucking” Californication schtick, he will survive it like Hank Moody did).

I love him, but if any discontent is going to be expressed about how the rest of the gang are handling their miserable selves, we can’t place Jughead above it and think the world is against him. No. Just no. Those unpaid bills didn’t unpay themselves. Those mobsters aren’t randomly pursuing him.

Jughead is JUST as disappointing as the rest of them, because he squandered the great opportunities that were handed to him, and then he had the gall to think that the Serpents wouldn’t take his portrayal of them personally. 

I say this to him (and maybe to everyone because this is a good life lesson): Goodwill is enduring (he sacrificed his life for Serpents), but people will only endure so much if you shit on them, and in this case, he memorialized that shit in a published book. 

On Betty Saying She Wanted to Fuck Archie Since High School

This didn’t even make me blink. Like, I didn’t even feel a twitch about that. @imreallyloveleee​ said it best in her post but it bears repeating: (1) sexual thoughts aren’t exclusive to the people you love; (2) it doesn’t invalidate your meaningful relationships; (3) Betty could’ve done it with Archie in the bunker, but she didn’t.

I’m not even going to point to, “Well, she liked him until sophomore year so YEAH, she thought about sleeping with Archie.” I think that’s absurd. She did think about sleeping with Archie even after that. Even after she was with Jughead. Archie WAS a thing, and thoughts--especially sexual thoughts, are not static and linear. They are alive and affected by a multitude of chemical reactions in our body. They permeate our daily activities and relationships. She HAD those thoughts and she doesn’t need to apologize for it, or be villified for it. 

The funny thing is my initial thought about it was that it was just pillow talk. On the one hand it could be construed as something of a bone she was throwing Archie the Labrador, but it was also something Betty needed to say for herself, a way to convince herself that she was doing this for something more meaningful than a way to cope with being in the Panic Room of her trauma, but this is a conclusion based on nothing but my own biases.That said, it certainly kept me from falling into a black hole of despair over it.  

On Betty Sleeping With Men Because She Can

Maybe she has to work on some stuff for her mental health. Maybe she has some trauma, but Betty had enjoyed sex in the past even without trauma. She likes it and sometimes she just needs it. Her sex appears to be responsible, consesual, and she appears to enjoy it. I mean, when she doesn’t feel like it, she says, “Nah,” and stays home with her cat.  

[atlabeth]

death by a thousand cuts - asami x fem!reader

i listened to this playlist while i wrote this in case you wanna feel my pain while you read this 

summary: in which you and asami fall out of love.

wc: 3.1k 

a/n: good god i am so sorry

warning(s): so much angst. breakups. falling out of love. crying. there is no happy ending 

based off of death by a thousand cuts by taylor swift | gif credit

breaking up with asami sato was the hardest thing y/n ever had to do.

she had never met anyone more.. perfect. 

her raven hair that she loved to tangle her hands in, the emerald green eyes that sparkled whenever she smiled, her infectious laughter that never failed to brighten y/n’s day. the confidence she carried herself with was extremely attractive, and it was one of the first things that caught y/n’s eye.

she never understood her long-winded rants about engineering or what was going on in the business world, but she would listen to her girlfriend read the phonebook if it meant she could hear her talk about something so passionately. the way that she put her full heart into everything she did, the way she loved so fully, it was impossible not to fall for her. 

asami was the smartest, kindest, most beautiful woman that y/n had ever met in her life, and it tore her apart to have to let her go. if someone took a knife to her heart a thousand times then ripped it out of her body, it still wouldn’t hurt as much as losing asami. 

but that was the thing about falling out of love. it wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t asami’s fault. it just.. happened.

and it was terrifying.

at first it wasn’t obvious. they were both college students with full lives, so they knew things were going to be busy. y/n was doing an unpaid internship at her dream job in hopes that she would be able to work her way up the ladder, while working another part time to keep herself afloat. asami had always said if she had any money troubles she would be more than willing to help, but y/n preferred to be able to support herself. she never denied an opportunity for her girlfriend to spoil her though. asami was working with her family business and it took a lot of time up as well. combine that with their classes, it was a miracle that they had any free time at all. 

but they made time. any spare moment they had was spent together. they always made it back to the apartment at the end of the day, and they would stay up far later than they should’ve to make up for the time apart. whether it was cooking something together at 2am and making a mess of the kitchen or telling each other about their day or just laying together in bed in each other’s embrace while they fell asleep, they did it together. 

together, together, together. 

there was no better place to be. because when they were together, asami and y/n could face the world. 

people envied them. hardworking women that managed to do it all, high school sweethearts that had been madly in love for years ever since they met their junior year. they danced around the topic of marriage, never fully stepping onto it, but both knew that it was something they wanted. they both thought they were going to be together till the end, so they had plenty of time before they took the plunge. 

y/n didn’t know that asami looked at engagement rings in her spare time, trying to think of one that her girlfriend would love, something that would be able to express how badly asami wanted to spend the rest of her life with y/n. 

asami didn’t know that y/n had a folder of numbers for wedding planners, caterers, musicians, lists of people that would work at a wedding or a reception. the thought of proposing was on her mind constantly, and she wanted to be able to express how badly she wanted to spend the rest of her life with asami. 

but things started to change.

late nights got later, and they no longer ended every day at the apartment. asami had to start going on business trips — future industries was in trouble, and she had to do everything to keep it afloat. this business was her livelihood, her family’s life work, and she couldn’t let it go. y/n understood and was nothing but supportive at first — she knew who her girlfriend was, and she admired her work ethic. 

but the time apart did something to them. just like their love slipping away, it wasn’t noticeable at first. small. but it grew, and the cracks started to form in their perfect relationship. 

asami had been called away on another business trip, this time to the fire nation to try and negotiate some kind of deal between another company. it was taking much longer than expected, so calls like these had become a regular. they would usually start after y/n got home from work, and they would just.. be with each other. sometimes they talked for hours, sometimes they just sat and got their respective tasks done — it was easier when they knew that the other was there. 

y/n was in the worst mood today. she had spent the last ten minutes ranting about the horrible day she had at work, and how she didn’t earn nearly enough to pay for the classes that she took, and textbooks should not be this expensive, and unpaid internships were bullshit. asami was being the same helpful angel as always, but for some reason y/n couldn’t stand it today. 

“y/n, if you’re having money troubles, you know that i can help you. i want to help you, all you have to do is ask! you don’t have to work these insane hours and stress yourself out.”

“asami, how many times do i have to tell you that i don’t need it? how many times have i told you that i want to be able to forge my own path? i don’t- i don’t need you to baby me.” she regretted the words as soon as they left her lips. they had come out so much harsher than she meant and it was obvious by the moment of silence that it had hurt asami. they didn’t have many arguments, so when they did their jabs hit hard, even when they were the smallest of things. 

“i’m not trying to baby you, i’m trying to help my girlfriend so she doesn’t have to worry constantly about money! i mean, what’s the point of having a fortune if you can’t use it to help others? i love you, y/n, and i want to h-” 

“i don’t need your help, asami!” she didn’t mean to yell. she never liked yelling — the couple had always been able to work out their problems before with a level head and talking normally — but this just slipped out. the silence that followed after was deafening, and y/n let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “i— i’m sorry. i have to go.” 

y/n was about to hang up, but even during fights she didn’t leave without saying it. especially when her girlfriend was in another country, she couldn’t leave without saying it. “..i love you too, asami. goodnight.” 

that was the first sign that things were going downhill. they never had arguments over something as petty as this — y/n wasn’t jealous of asami in any way, she was proud, and her girlfriend succeeding made her happier than anything — but lately it felt like mishaps like this were happening more and more often. 

y/n passed it off as stress from the job — for some reason, asami offering to help just made her take even longer hours — but deep down, she knew. something was changing between her and her girlfriend, and she didn’t like it. 

the things that she used to find endearing were now annoying. she began to tune out asami’s rants about the business world, and her confidence started to come off as cockiness. she was snapping more and more often and found it scary how easily their conversations now irked her.

the same things were happening on asami’s side. she used to love y/n’s brazenness and how she said whatever came to mind, but now it just bothered her. the independence she once admired was getting to her as well — why couldn’t she just accept her help? asami had money, she was willing to help, but she was met with the same stubbornness every time. it was tiring. 

their calls that used to occur every night and last for hours became far and in between, replaced by goodnight texts and i love you’s. and even those ceased -- it wasn’t uncommon for them to go whole days without talking while asami was away. and the worst thing? it didn’t bother her. y/n used to not be able to go an hour without talking to her in some way, but now she was just.. okay with it. 

asami could feel y/n slipping through her fingers, but she couldn’t do anything about it. because she was slipping away as well. 

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

they couldn’t keep going like this.

both women were ignoring the problem. it was partially out of shock, but mostly out of fear. how could they have lost their love like that? the flame that they tended together, the wild, passionate flame that was their love, had gone out. what were they supposed to do? what could they do? 

asami was coming home today. y/n would normally pick her up and they would greet each other with the biggest hug and kiss, and then they would spend the entire ride home talking each other’s ears off. but not this time. this time, asami did it all herself. drove herself to and from the airport, taking the parking fees over y/n driving her. she was surprised at how much she enjoyed the silence on the ride home, but it gave her time to think. too much time to think about what was going on with her and her girlfriend. 

but she already knew the answer. 

asami fidgeted with the key into the apartment and pushed the door open, trailing a suitcase behind her as she walked into the empty room. “y/n?” she called, only being met with the echo of her own voice. “i’m home!”

her eyes drifted around and saw the door out to the balcony was open, y/n leaning against the railing. she looked absolutely beautiful in the moonlight, but the pang she felt in her heart was just sadness instead of happiness. and just like that, she knew she was going to have to bring it up. 

they couldn’t keep going like this. 

y/n turned around as she heard footsteps, her lips quirking upwards ever so slightly as she saw who it was. “hi,” she whispered. 

“hi.” asami returned the greeting and she came to rest on the balcony next to her. neither of them said anything for a long time, but somehow they both knew. the statement hung in the air. five simple words, five words that would end it all. five words that neither of them could say, but both of them knew had to be said. 

that was one thing about being together for this long — they knew each other better than anyone else, and they wouldn’t ever be able to forget. 

“how was your trip?” y/n asked, wanting to break the silence. anything was better than standing here waiting for the hammer to drop. anything to stop those words from being uttered. 

“it was alright,” asami murmured. “we secured the deal, so future industries is safe for now. i’ll probably be gone again on another business trip before you know it, though.” 

“i’m happy for you.” that wasn’t a lie, but the thing that scared her was how she felt nothing knowing that asami was going to be leaving again. she wasn’t sad, she wasn’t disappointed, she just felt nothing. and that was the biggest sign yet. 

both of them turned to look at each other at the same time, and y/n was almost taken aback by the pure melancholic expression asami wore. in that moment, she knew. she knew because that was the exact same expression she had when she looked in the mirror in the morning. 

y/n opened her mouth to say something, say anything, but before she knew what was happening asami’s lips were on hers. her eyes shut and she instinctively pulled asami closer, hands already tangling in her hair. it was too easy to get caught up in it all again, too easy to forget. because they both wanted to forget. 

y/n wanted nothing more than to stay like this. she knew it couldn’t stay like this, she knew that holding onto their broken love was unhealthy, but she just couldn’t let go. even though there was nothing behind the kiss, she just couldn’t let it go. it was the scent of asami’s perfume pervading her senses that caused her to pull away first. 

y/n pursed her lips, feeling the familiar sting behind her eyes. she smiled sadly and breathed out a laugh, shaking her head in an effort to avoid eye contact. it didn’t last long. “we can’t put it off any longer. this— us. it’s over, isn’t it?”

“i’m so sorry, y/n.” y/n didn’t know if she was apologizing for kissing her or for their lost love — for all she knew it could’ve been both. her green eyes sparkled in the moonlight, and as she stared into them all the memories of the last couple years came back. years of happiness, laughter, nights spent together and waking up next to each other. “i.. i don’t know how it happened. it felt like one day, everything was perfect, and the next, i just—“

“you don’t have to be sorry, asami.” y/n took asami’s hands in her own as she spoke softly, and spirits. their hands fit together so perfectly that it hurt. “i felt it too. i didn’t want to acknowledge it, but.. i knew. i’ve known since that first phone call.”

“how did this happen?” she rasped, rubbing circles on y/n’s hand with her thumb with a far off look in her eyes. “did we do something wrong? i- i thought you were the one. i know we’re young, but i can’t see myself with anyone else. in every future i‘ve imagined, you’ve been by my side.” 

spirits, that made things so much harder. that was exactly how y/n felt. asami sato had always been who she saw at the end of the tunnel, the one who she thought she would spend the rest of her life with. it was a rare feeling, the love they shared, and trying to cope with the fact that that love was gone was like trying to wake up from a walking nightmare. 

“i.. i don’t know.” it seemed like the only thing she did know was that the love of her life was gone. she didn’t know how it happened, she didn’t know why it happened, she only knew that she no longer had asami sato. y/n blinked back tears and had to let go of asami’s hands. it hurt too much, knowing that she would never get to hold her hands, hold her, in the same way they used to. it hurt too much knowing that the spark was gone. she rested her forearms on the balcony, the faint night breeze blowing all around her. 

“we’ll still be friends, right?” asami’s voice was faint as she came to stand against the balcony with y/n once more, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “we spent the last seven years together. that- it doesn’t just go away now that we’re no longer…” she didn’t want to say the words. saying it meant that it was real, it meant that all of this was really happening. it meant that she was really losing the girl she thought she would get to call her wife one day. 

“i…” she bit the inside of her cheek. “i hope so. i sincerely hope so. but i’m going to need some time before we can be.. ‘just friends’ again.” y/n pressed one of her hands into the side of her head and shook her head. “i’ll- uh, i’ll move my things out this weekend. i have a friend i can crash with tonight and until i find an apartment.” 

“yeah, of course. of course— as much time as you need.” her voice cracked on the last word and asami swallowed hard. “if you need any money, you can ask-” 

“asami.” y/n hated how her name sounded on her lips now. it used to be so full of love, happiness, a reminder of every good thing in the world. now it just reminded her of what she no longer had. it felt empty. 

she wished she felt something. y/n knew it wasn’t fair to asami, but yelling and screaming at her would’ve made her feel better than this emptiness behind her heart. anything would be better than this nagging feeling in her chest. 

she stopped talking and they faced each other, so close but worlds apart. asami’s hands itched to reach for y/n’s again, and y/n wanted nothing more than to find herself in asami’s embrace again. before they knew it, they were both leaning in. 

their lips met again in one final kiss, one final plea to all the spirits that their love would suddenly come back. that the butterflies, the electricity, the almost overwhelming happiness would re-emerge; that this was all just a cruel misunderstanding and that they could go back to being together. but as y/n pulled away, she felt nothing. and she knew asami felt the same way.

a single tear trickled down y/n’s cheek as she stared in the eyes of her former love with a sadness that words couldn’t begin to describe.

“i’ll always love you, asami sato.”

“i’ll always love you, y/n y/l/n.”

the whispered declarations were more like goodbyes, and as y/n walked back into the house, wiping away rapidly falling tears, asami was doing the same as she gazed up at the moon. their thoughts mirrored each other’s. 

“why did it have to be us?”

[serenadeonacanoe]

Honestly, I'd piss him off on purpose. (Namjoon x OFC)

Pairing: Namjoon x Original Female Character

Genre/Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, too tired to beta

Tags: Artist!Namjoon, Yoongi and Tae are the best flatmates, Enemies to Lovers I guess... more like brats to making out in the storage unit, OFC is an idiot.

Summary:

"Wow. Is that that grumpy artist behind you? Jesus. He really looks like a bit of a dick. And you are right. He really is hot..." Oh no. Speakerphone. Namjoon was standing behind me and was staring at me. Then at my phone. He let out a little laugh, then raised his hand to wave at Tae and Yoongi outside who were now also staring at him as if frozen, before turning around in unison. As if that would help. As if he couldn't see them. Or better even... couldn't hear them.

[...]

Mister Darcy has nothing on Kim Namjoon - that new and upcoming artist you probably already heard of (You haven't? How dare you? At least have the decency to pretend you have!). He is cold, serious, and rather good at making other people believe he is a prick. Especially Elizabeth Bennet - uh... Charlotte - is about to lose it because of him. Maybe in a good way. Man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

More chapters on AO3

CHAPTER 1

Even the sound of my own nails rhythmically tapping on the top of the counter was annoying me. To be fair, it didn't need much today to blow my fuze that had never been particularly long in the first place. But after a week consisting of being belittled by old white men and endless hours of unpaid overtime I about had it. Welcome to the art world. You know well before you enter that the hours are horrible and the job market is more than frustrating, but you love art and you have good organisational skills, you are resilient, charming when it counts and tend to romanticize things even when you know you shouldn't. It's too late to turn around now.

"That is why I don't use an agenda or notebook. If something is important enough for me to attend I simply won't forget. I know you youngsters are all about the bullet journaling and expressing yourself by mapping out your life but it really is just another way to procrastinate instead of getting to actual work." For a second I considered throwing my damn notebook in the buyer's face, but that probably wouldn't have helped my CV and the new job I would have to look for starting tomorrow. At least I should have screamed at him a little. Mainly, that I didn't care, that I was on my period and my shitty shower in the shitty flat i shared had broken and no dry shampoo in the world had fixed my hair this morning and that god damn it, how the hell was I supposed to remember every phone number, every call my boss had to take, every art handling transport I had organized if I couldn't write it down somewhere. Instead, I smiled. Died a little on the inside and complimented him on the gift of his exceptional memory and asked whether he would like another cup of coffee.

"What a dick." Samantha murmured, more to herself than me, after the guy had finally left, which made me snort under my breath. She usually didn't say much but when she did it was usually pure gold. In the end, it didn't matter that he was. Didn't matter that everyone at the gallery thought the art he had bought from us over the last couple of months had neither been smart nor impressive purchases. Mainly expensive. And flashy.

"Doesn't matter now." I said in a sigh after a quick glance at the clock. It was Friday night and we were about to close. Since it was my birthday on Monday I had taken two days off, about the longest break I had had this year and I was looking forward to being the lazy slob for a few days I was maybe always meant to be. In silence we answered a few last emails, tidied up the desks and counters so that potential buyers that would come in over the weekend wouldn't have to suspect anyone was actually working here. - A white desk. A huge Imac on it. That was all they needed to see, folders and pens and apparently especially agendas to be hidden away in drawers.

At five to eight I threw on my coat and Samantha just gave me a tired smile. Probably happy for me, just exhausted. "Have fun then? Don't get too wasted?" "Oh..." I said with a huge smug grin on my lips. "You have no idea... gonna take a bottle of Moët with me from the bar and drink it in my bathtub after eating a huge pepperoni pizza by myself and dancing to only the finest of 90s Euro Trash." I couldn't help it, apparently, I felt it necessary to give Sam a little demonstration, waving my arms up and down while swaying my hips in a way that I'd probably would not have if it hadn't been for a bit with an audience of a single person. Or maybe two?

A quiet scoff behind me and I quickly turned around, slowly lowering my arms, Sam biting her lower lip at the sight of me standing there like an idiot in front of HIM of all people.

Men didn't have to be old to annoy me. Or white. Yes, those were the ones that pissed me off most usually, but no one had managed to do so as much as Kim Namjoon recently. And now he was standing there, looking me up and down and stopping at my hair. The crazy too-much-dry-shampoo-because-the-shower-broke-hair. "Nice." He just commented and then looked over at Sam. "I'd like to take a last look before Sunday's opening if that is okay?" I stood there, my shoulders dropping, completely ignored.

"Uhm, actually, my babysitter has to leave in about an hour and I will have to be home before that." Samantha replied and I was impressed by how calm she stayed. "Of course." Namjoon said and gave her a slight smile. "Anyone else still around? Chris maybe?" Of course Chris hadn't been in today. It was Friday and unless important guests had announced themselves the owner of the gallery wasn't around on Fridays... "I am afraid not. But maybe Charlotte has a few minutes?" Well. Thanks. Thanks a lot. I felt a little betrayed. "Wouldn't want to keep anyone from their important Moët-Pizza-Dance Party plans." Namjoon replied before I could say a word. His voice once more dropping to a hushed, deep disapproval and his hands buried in the pockets of his rather expensive looking coat. Silence for a few moments and then he just walked off towards the room his exhibition had been set up all week. Showing without a further word that I would have to stay anyways if he wanted it that way.

"Well thank you for pushing me under the bus like that. Really appreciate it." "I am so sorry. But I was serious, I can't lose this babysitter. She got Jamie to eat vegetables. VEGETABLES!" Samantha suddenly seemed in a rush, grabbing her jacket and purse and showering me in promises she would make it up to me. Even though we both knew that wouldn't happen and wasn't necessary. Suddenly having to stay longer was normal. I just hated that it had to be today. And because of him.

I heard the door close behind Sam and I stood there for a second before putting my bag down again. Usually, I would have followed the artist, asking if I could somehow help, but nahhh... my ego was bruised up enough now, especially remembering the little dance. I closed my eyes. Fucking hated the guy. Always had. Well, not quite. I had thought he was cool for about five minutes when he had come in the first time. We had heard about him for quite a few months before, I think I had even seen pictures of him at some point, but those were nothing compared to him in real life. He came in all cheekbones and sharp chin and an all grey outfit, quick pace, observant gaze. Incredibly hot. He had also completely ignored me.

That's how it had started - a bruised ego. He couldn't know that it was my weak spot. Having studied art and its management and now feeling like a better secretary at times, when my colleagues and I were doing all the behind the scenes work while Chris worked very little hours and ended up with all the money and recognition. I was aware this wasn't the only field of work where this was the case, but it still frustrated me... I had imagined my life in the last years of my 20s to be a bit more glamorous than living in a tiny apartment on the outskirts of the city... spending my Friday night waiting for some rude artist dude to leave so I could lock up.

But what I perhaps hated most about him... was that I admired him. - Purely for his art. Really. Even the fact that he kept acting as if I wasn't around every time he came in didn't mean I couldn't admit that. At least to myself. The stories behind his huge colleagues were clever and thought through, but even without context, the pure aesthetics were mesmerizing. It was the kind of art that touched something deep inside of you and standing in front of it I always had a hundred questions. Whenever he brought in a new piece I was the first one to sneak a peek in the back rooms before it was hung.

"I don't get why you have such a problem with him. He is just... quiet. I think he might even be shy... stop being so sensitive and just ask him out already." I had almost strangled Sam for that comment a couple of weeks back. Stop being so sensitive. What did that even mean? Comments like that made me want to cry and scream at the same time, which probably would have been perceived as even more sensitive, but when had insensitivity become something to strive for? I had only kept quiet because I liked Sam and I knew what she had tried to say. At least I thought so. That I might have given less of a shit if I hadn't been rather attracted to Namjoon. Even though I had never mentioned it, she just knew. She knew if I didn't care about something I didn't waste my time on it. But if something made me angry or upset there was usually more to it. I hated that she could read me that easily. But he was still a dick and I still wanted to go home.

He took his sweet time. After an hour I walked up to him, a little speech prepared in my head about how he could come back first thing tomorrow. But when he turned around he just raised a hand between us to keep me from interrupting and turned away again. I hadn't seen that he was on the phone. "No, it's nothing, just one of the gallery employees." I heard him say and okay... if I wasn't about to explode before I was now. I stood there for a minute, fuming, and then simply walked back to the office area, my hand shaking when I started turning off the gallery lights one by one. It wasn't as satisfying as I had hoped but still felt good. Two minutes later the only lights still on were the one above my head and the one in front of the door. I would at least give him a clear direction where to head, he seemed to need it.

When Namjoon appeared out of one of the dark corners he looked even more annoyed than usual. Looking my direction through squinting eyes and his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek. "Seriously?" he yelled my way and almost walked into one of the little flyer shelves. Wasn't the first time I had seen that happen to him though so maybe that had nothing to do with the light.

I felt oddly triumphant. By the time I had put on my coat and turned off the remaining lights, ready to finally lock up, Namjoon had almost found his way, standing in the open door, still on his phone. A little groan from my side when he didn't even notice that I was standing behind me went by unnoticed. Or simply ignored. But instead of the appropriate clearing of the throat or the maybe less polite squeezing past him, I just put my hands on his back and gently pushed him forward a bit, until his feet hit the pavement and he turned around. Dropping his hand with the phone in it, for a second he looked like he wanted to push back. Or trample me.

"Okay, what the hell is your problem, Charlotte?" His voice was hoarse. His eyes dark. God, he was hot. I hated him so much. "You." I simply replied and stared at him for a second, then turned around and locked the two locks on the door before stepping over to the alarm system. I couldn't help feeling smug because apparently, he knew my name. I imagined him staring at the back of my head because he was flustered, but couldn't be sure. All I knew was that when I turned around again a minute later he was still standing there, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his lips pressed together forming a straight line and watching me.

"Do you always act like that at work around people who could get you into trouble?" He was right, he could get me into trouble. But I was too fired up now, my heart racing. "Is that a threat?" "An observation." "Only around the ones I don't like." "Cool." "Great." "Enjoy the dance party. Sounds shit."

And with those words he had turned around, coat flying open in the wind, unfortunately making him look really cool as he walked away and I ABSOLUTELY HATED HIM. I kept my mouth shut and just walked off in the other direction, realizing minutes later that my car was parked the other way, but I kept walking for a while before I finally turned around. It took a while to calm down and only cuddling up to my cat on the couch to trash tv finally did the job. But by then I had realized something I wasn't sure I liked too much. Yeah, I thought he was a prick. And yeah I should have just played it cool. Would have been much smarted in many regards. But I also had somewhat enjoyed myself in the most fucked up way.

Seeing that stern look, that intense posture as he was towering over me... man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

More chapters on AO3

[assemble-revengers]

Nexus Split

**Contains spoilers for Loki**

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2203

Prompt: “Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?”

Author’s Note: I woke up and chose violence today.

--

Time was hard to grasp before this whole mess began, but it at least had some structure regardless of how ethereal it seemed. There was structure and a time and place and you just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time so it seemed when you also made a move to snatch up the Tesseract the second you saw Loki move in New York. That’s how you got into this mess and honestly there were many things you had regretted initially. For instance, why couldn’t you have minded your own business?

Well, if you had you wouldn’t have had the opportunity to meet Loki, and at the moment? That felt worth more than anything. It hadn’t started that way -- the two of you were practically at each other’s throats and when you weren’t bickering between each other you were being confused by the politics of the TVA and time in general.

In a wild turn of events you became an unpaid intern all over again. You supposed it was better than dying or “being pruned”. You still were confused as ever by the lingo and even though you had tried your best to pay attention to the onboarding process, but frankly you were still wrapping your head around the prospect of the TVA in general. How had no one even considered this being a possibility? Where did these people come from? It seemed that it just...was? But if that was the case, why was there an onboarding process?

Miss Minutes was terrifying -- she was just so...eerie and popped up randomly and honestly you just wanted a nap. Or to wake up from this bizarre dream.

The worst part was the notion of running into other variants, namely the fact that a variant that had been targeting members of the TVA happened to be a Loki-variant.

“Wonderful,” you retorted, interrupting Mobius with disdain, “There’s another one of him.”

The aforementioned god was sitting across a table from you and you weren’t entirely sure how he was taking the whole thing. According to him, the tesseract was useless here. A paper weight. Another beyond weird thing that the TVA brought.

“We should team up,” a voice interrupted your spacing out and it took you a moment to realize that the voice belonged to Loki. And he was talking to you.

You blinked a few times incredulously, “You have been nothing but cruel to me since we met. Why would I ever help you?” Honestly, the audacity of men.

“I am sorry about that, by the way,” he answered, “I was going through something.”

You couldn’t help the laugh you let out, covering your mouth immediately to try to mute the sound and avoid any more attention. “Aw, that makes it all better.”

There was no reason to hide your sarcasm, and he knew that. You could tell from the way he blanched for a moment before resuming his composure, obviously trying to turn on some godly charm or something onto you, “I was. I truly am sorry.”

“Loki, you stole the Tesseract, tried to take over the world and brought a bunch of crazy alien things into New York City,” you listed, counting off the things on your fingers, “And now because you went after the stupid Tesseract again, with a room full of Avengers I might add, I cannot return to my life which wasn’t that impressive, but at this moment? I kind of miss it. So, no, I don’t accept your apology.” He was silent after that and you went back to your mind palace spiraling about the logistics of what was happening to you.

It was not a great day for you. Week? Hour? Time was weird. It was even more weird when you were suddenly having to do research into the Loki-variant-assassin. Going through files and files of different instances in time was tedious. It was interesting in that some of the things had already happened, were going to happen, and were happening in places you had never even heard of. It was during this that you and Loki had begun to work more collaboratively.

In fact, the moment you guys had made the connection that it was apocalypses? You taught the god of mischief the importance of a high five. Or rather, never leaving someone hanging because you chased him down, yelling at him until he returned the high five before you even allowed him to present your findings to Mobius. The bond continued when you both were treated like unhinged criminals or starved, ravenous animals by pretty much everyone other than Mobius who was...friendly as ever.

You did not have a lot of options in terms of trust. While Mobius seemed genuine, there was no way you could possibly know. The issue was that the only thing that was any level of normal in your eyes was Loki which was...laughable, but he was from your timeline. The two of you were in this together sort of because at this point you wanted to go home and it seemed he did too after the whole semantics of this whole thing. Or maybe he wanted to take over the TVA. Regardless, it gave you some hope that he might be kind and put you into your timeline where you belong.

The feelings came out of nowhere. In fact, you hadn’t even realized it happened until there was a chance for you both to chase after the Loki-variant (or Sylvie as you would learn later) and before Loki went through the portal, he reached a hand out for you, Mobius yelling and you found your feet moving on their own accord, turning to mouth ‘Sorry’ to Mobius before grabbing Loki’s hand and rushing through the portal.

Sylvie was interesting and endearing and was someone you instantly found yourself drawn to. You felt sympathetic to her story, and maybe that was dangerous. Dangerous, but gave you another sliver of hope despite the fact things were bleak. Very bleak. Being on Lamentis-1 about to explode and everyone die bleak. Despite this, the two of you sat and chatted in your booth at the bar while Loki got absolutely hammered and even began to softly serenade you in what you assumed was Asgardian (this was after he sung to the whole room) and you found yourself pulling him back down to the chairs and pulling him into a hug while you laughed.

“Loki, I have no idea what you’re saying,” you giggled, pulling away from him, “But I think you’ve had enough.”

“Darling, I think I’m just getting started,” he answered with the smoothness of butter on a hot pancake. You couldn’t help the burning of your ears and the rest of the blush that began to dance across your features. Sylvie coughed. Moment interrupted (Thankfully? You don’t know). Back to the business of the world ending and no way out. Maybe that’s what let all of you decide to unload tales of the past. Yours was boring and...uneventful comparatively which led you to remain relatively quiet as both Loki and Sylvie talked.

Hearing all of Sylvie’s plight and what brought her to that moment had both you and Loki feeling empathetic. You felt anger that this whole this was allowed and deemed ‘okay’ by the TVA. An entity that really had no checks and balances as far as you could see. You pretended to ignore Sylvie and Loki bonding. You felt your stomach tighten. Envy was ugly and green really was never your color.

But that triggered the TVA rolling up and taking the three of you back. You weren’t sure what you were expecting. You weren’t expecting yourself to start fighting. Your restraints, the situation, the fact you were separated from Sylvie and more importantly Loki. You were utterly alone in your cell, screaming for them to let you out. The person interrogating you entered, tried asking you questions that you just couldn’t hear. Your head was swimming and it was almost as if you were hearing things like you were underwater. Fight or flight and apparently your entire being chose to fight.

Per someone’s orders you were moved, you lit up the moment you saw Loki and soon you were joined by Sylvie. Your restraints were removed and your eyes began watering as you rushed to Loki’s side, grabbing his hand as he gave yours a reassuring squeeze, moving so that he was shielding you from the front. The next thing you knew and before you had a moment to process, Mobius was pruned in front of you and Loki moved to shield you further.

Surprisingly, you were not entirely useless in the fight that ensued, but couldn’t help but feel entirely out of your element. The closest you had ever been to being in a fight in the past was when you were five and some girl stole your crayons and had the nerve to try to eat them.

Your adrenaline was pumping when you turned to Loki a feeling like being shocked by a plug while also being burned by a pan that had been on the stove. You were confused, Loki was yelling something. You couldn’t hear. You reach for him, desperate to calm him down or maybe it was because you subconsciously knew what was happening and you were terrified. The hot, electric feeling spread across your body before what felt like you were dropped in ice cold water and suddenly...your eyes blinked awake. You weren’t at the TVA.

Instead, you found yourself on the run (you hated yourself for missing out on all that gym time because your cardio could use some work) from a cloud that ate things. You would learn that you were in The Void, the evil vacuum of the cloud was called Alioth, and that there were even more Loki variants. One was an alligator. He was your favorite.

Your Loki also turned up and you practically threw yourself into his arms in relief, “I thought I lost you, you idiot.”

“I could say the same to you, pet,” he responded, murmuring into the crook of your shoulder. Reunions had to be cut short after you introduced the other variants, (“And this Loki is an alligator! How cool is that! He’s my favorite of all of you, no offense.”) and now you were seeking shelter to hide from Alioth and...well survive you supposed.

President Loki and the other Lokis were...a lot. In fact, there were so many Lokis that you were beginning to get a tension headache trying to keep up with everything that was going on. Some of them seemed to recognize you, including President Loki that informed you that you were late and with the wrong people (“No? I don’t even know who you are?” “You will.”)

Reuniting with Sylvie and Mobius brought even more relief. Sylvie seemed to think she could enchant the Alioth. You protested quite a bit before she was able to convince you otherwise. There was a way out. You had a chance to go back to the TVA and sort things with Mobius. Maybe go back to where you belong. Maybe stay. You weren’t sure, but it seemed Loki, your-Loki was hesitating.

Mobius was opening the portal behind you to the TVA. You stood with your hand firmly within Loki’s, fingers interlaced as you bid Sylvie a small, quiet ‘good luck, you’ve got this’. You and Loki were right by the portal, a sliver from stepping in before Loki stops, pulling you so that you two were facing each other, your back to the portal.

“What’s wrong?” you ask concerned.

“I’m staying,” Loki affirms, “To help Sylvie, to...do this.”

“Okay,” you lament. You were staying too. You tried to move to leave the portal Loki gave Mobius a heartfelt hug, which ended up being a group hug since Loki wouldn’t let go of you. In fact, as soon as Mobius was released from the hug, you were engulfed into Loki’s arms where you practically melted. The hug ended far too soon, but Loki didn’t release you, holding your face in his hands as he pressed his forehead to yours. It made your heart warm and peace washed over you.

“Loki…” you sigh, feeling an entire lifetime of emotions flooding your system, “I…”

“Shh,” he cuts you off, “I know. I feel the same...but I can’t bear to hear it.”

“Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?” You inquire, voice cracking. You felt frozen in place as panic began to bubble up under your skin.

“Because you’re not staying with me,” he murmurs weakly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I love you, Y/N. Remember that, please.”

Before you could respond, you were shoved by a great force. You couldn’t even react as your grip was easily broken, your sense of balance knocked out from under you. Mobius had already stepped through the portal...surely it wasn’t still up? You landed on the ground, having been knocked off your feet, but you were no longer in the void.

You felt your heart shattering. You couldn’t even cry. He was gone.

[agustdef]

VIBE

Pairing: Yoongi x Trans!Reader

Genre: Angst; Fluff; Friends to Lovers

Word Count: 12.4k

Warning: Cheating (not by the pairing); Brief Sexual Content; Mental Health; Mention of Emotional and Mental Abuse; Mention of Mental Health

Rating: NC17

Banner Marker: @guktro​

Lovely Beta Reader: @guktro​ because he’s a persistent little thing and wanted to be the first to read it.

A/N: The fic was written for @guktro​ and takes place in my I Found You and With All My Heart universe. With that being said, I must say that this portrayal of of trans man was written with Gray in mind and to fit his feelings/what he wanted. So, while I apologize if this makes you feel unrepresented I will not deal with any invalidating of Gray’s feelings towards his own identify.

YN rushed to class after sleeping through the first five alarms he set. He’d meant to get up early, but after a night spent focused on getting a side project done he’d fallen asleep early morning. He scolded himself as he sprinted into the classroom, but at the same time he couldn’t help but be pleased with himself. His burst of late-night inspiration meant that he’d completed the graphic work he’d been tasked with, a thing that kicked his ass for weeks before that night. And it also meant that he had extra money deposited in his bank account by the time he woke up that morning.

A win.

Well, a partial win because the look his professor gave when he just barely had his butt in a seat as class started lessened some of the joy.

There was no time to linger on any of that though because the moment the professor started talking it was full steam ahead. They’d entered another section of the course, which brought them all closer to designing a website completely from scratch. That meant the coding, art, font, almost everything had to be crafted by them.

It was something that excited YN, but also made him extremely nervous seeing as the end product would be the deciding factor of their final grade. Plus, it was going to be done in pairs and despite having attended school their all undergrad, he wasn't buddy buddy with anyone in his classes or his major for that matter. All his friends were in different majors or different schools. Which meant it would be a random person and goodness knows the odds of that person being a team player were low.

However, he tried to keep positive or at least his friends tried to keep him positive. It didn’t help, so he’d just decided to act like it wasn’t a thing until it was. Something that worked until halfway through the class when he heard his professor mention how he’d out of the partners right that moment.

Panic was not a strong enough word for what YN felt as his head snapped up to look from his laptop screen to the front of the class. His eyes scanned the projection on the wall and he held his breath as he did, hoping that whoever the hell it was wasn’t a total shit show. When he found his own name, part of him wished that he’d had a total shitshow instead of who he got though.

After reading the name he turned his head to look towards the back of the room and his eyes met Min Yoongi’s. Yoongi smiled at YN and tipped his head, something YN did in return so not to be perceived as unhappy before turning around again.

But YN was unhappy. Well, not unhappy because he thought bad of Yoongi or anything, but because the man made him nervous as hell. He’d been in most of YN’s graphic design classes since he’d arrived in Korea and a distraction since day one. YN thought that he was ridiculously cute and then as time went by the attraction grew as he watched him go from pale, flawless skin to his arms covered in tattoos. Something about seeing all the art on him heightened things for YN and made him more of a flustered mess around him. All without having never spoken to him before.

Not that YN hadn’t tried. With bullying from his friend’s, but that day as he’d approached “to ask about the homework” Yoongi was joined by a Black woman that YN had seen around him a few times. They’d smiled at each other, linked arms, and walked away from campus as YN reached the halfway point. It left him a tad heartbroken to see that he hadn’t managed to even say hi and that Yoongi may have had a girlfriend.

From that day on YN continued his thirsting from a distance and leaving it at that.

The project pairing meant that he wouldn’t be able to do that anymore and he was unsure of how that would play out, but for the rest of the class time he told himself he could get through it. The reminder that he had a grade to worry about was enough to give some faux confidence.

That wore off as soon as Yoongi approached him as they were dismissed.

“I rented one of the computer rooms for something else, but would you mind heading there with me right now? We don’t have to get any real work done, but it could get the whole expectations part out of the way,” Yoongi said.

Startled, YN only found it in himself to nod and then off they went. Yoongi led the way out the building and to one several feet away that was filled with private rooms for students to rent for course work. They checked in and went into one of the computer rooms on the lower floor.

Yoongi didn’t say anything at first, just unpacked his stuff and booted up the computer. And that left YN awkwardly sitting in a chair next to him, his bag clutched against his chest as he waited. He didn’t know what to do next and that was more about the awkward first group mate meeting then it did any attraction that he felt.

Once Yoongi was done with all his prep he sat in the other chair and turned to YN. He must have sensed the tension because he smiled wide, one of those gum showing ones that YN had seen once or twice when he was talking to his friends. It had a strange calming effect.

“You already know, I’m Min Yoongi,” he said, his hand held out.

YN was a deer in headlights for a second, but soon enough reached out to grasp the hand.

“I’m YN LN.”

“Nice to meet you, YN. We have other classes together, right?”

“Yes, we do.”

Conversation fizzled for a second after that and the awkward tension returned, but Yoongi didn’t allow them to sit in it for too long.

“Okay. I know I said we wouldn’t do any actual work today, but do you have any ideas for what we should make the site for?”

The next beat of silence was because YN needed a second to think, before remembering that he’d made a list in the beginning of the semester, so he’d have it. Without saying a word he unlocked his phone and searched through the notes app to find it. Once it was on the screen he handed the phone over to Yoongi.

There was a look of confusion on his face before he glanced down at the screen and saw what was there. He looked over it for a moment before handing it back.

“We have some of the same ideas. I thought about using this as an excuse to build something for my shop and portfolio, but we don’t have to do that. Don’t want to make it seem like I’m trying to get unpaid work out of you.”

That piqued YN’s interest.

“For your shop?” he asked.

Yoongi nodded. “Yes, I work at a tattoo shop.”

“Ah. Then we could do that. Doing it for a real thing always makes it easier to get the work done. And at least here payment would be a grade and something to add to my resume as a real in use website. But I’d also take a tattoo as payment,” YN said jokingly.

At first Yoongi appeared taken aback, but then his smile returned.

“Anything you want.”

A shift happened in YN and he relaxed a lot more, even putting his bag on the floor.

“Cool, you have any specifics you want to try for?”

And from there they just talked, bouncing ideas off each other and cracking the occasional joke. It was an easy flow they had going and by the time they thought to save some things for a later date in mind an hour had passed.

YN cringed when he saw the clock. “Sorry, for eating into your room time.”

Yoongi waved him off.

“It’s fine. It means I can’t procrastinate and will get something done before my sister comes to meet me for a late lunch. She’ll kill me if I don’t get it done,” he said.

Thought of his own sister made YN frown, but he pushed away the thoughts and gathered his stuff to leave. He turned and smiled at Yoongi, then waved as he backed from the room.

“Text me your schedule and we can figure out when to meet again,” YN said.

Yoongi nodded and they both turned away from each other, but just as YN pushed the door open Yoongi called out to him. Confused, he turned back to see Yoongi’s brows furrow as if in that.

“What’s up?” YN asked.

“You go by he/him, right?”

Discomfort built in an instant as YN was unsure of the reaction that would come with his answer, but he nodded his head and Yoongi smiled again.

“Okay, just making sure so I don’t use the wrong thing.”

With that they said their goodbyes again and YN left, but he left with a happy feeling inside him. He’d moved past the need for outside validation of his gender, but it was always nice to feel someone being considerate. Especially when that person was someone he’d never told before and had to have heard it through the grapevine. He knew how easy it was to misgender him because his appearance screamed feminine and he had no impending plans nor made an effort to make his transition physically apparent.

It was just nice for it to not have someone make a big deal out of it.

So, he walked away from that first meeting beyond happy with the way things went and confident about the project. Which was how he felt after every meeting after that and even on the day that they presented their project.

Everything had gone so well and he only had one regret: Not getting a chance to know Yoongi much outside of their assignment. But the semester was over and YN was so busy with school, work, and life that he barely even had the time for his friends.

And the next thing he knew he was on a plane on the way back home to the US.

��### 

The moment YN stepped into his apartment he wished he hadn’t. He’d closed the door gently as not to rouse his boyfriend who worked the night shift, but when he turned to face the living room he saw that the man was already awake. In fact, he was awake and he had company.

On the couch sat Sam and between his legs was some “friend” of his with his dick halfway down her throat. The sight didn’t startle YN and he barely had the energy to be upset about it. Especially when both of them realized he was there and could only look like a deer in headlights. Well, Sam was pretending to care that he’d been caught, but YN saw the way he fought the little smirk that wanted to form on his lips.

“Oh, my goodness,” the girl said.

That was what made YN focus solely on her and he remembered her from a few group hang outs. She was a sweet girl who was newer to the group and Sam liked to hang around her lot, though she always seemed to put distance between them when he got too close. It seemed like she’d given up on doing that.

“I didn’t know you lived here,” she said.

“So, if I didn’t it was okay to give oral to my boyfriend?” YN asked, his voice empty.

She shook her head profusely and rose to her feet, fixing her clothes as she did.

“No. My goodness no. Sam… he, well he said you guys broke up. I wouldn’t… I’m not the type to…”

Her scrambling to find an excuse should’ve given YN some sort of relief or reassurance that she wasn’t a horrible person, but he felt nothing. He merely held up his hand to get her to stop and walked back out of the door without another word to either of them.

He’d planned to get in a quick lunch nap, thus coming home when he did, but that was out of the window. So, YN walked around aimlessly until he stumbled upon a cafe. Once inside, he ordered something and found an empty booth away from everyone.

The first few minutes were sat in silence with him merely staring at the other bench seat blankly. He didn’t speak or move until the barista brought over his drink and sandwich. A brief thank you and then he began to nibble on the food, hoping it was enough to focus his mind on something else, but it wasn’t.

All he could think about was the disaster that was his life.

When YN returned to the US he saw it as temporary and as a means to help out his family. His mother struggled a little and he wanted to help, plus he’d missed them since he hadn’t had the chance to go home during his undergrad. Things were fine for a while, but then they all just became so mean and uncaring about his feelings. His mother tried, but sometimes she was just the worst. And his little sister was rude and acted like she hated him or at least that’s what it felt like. Every second of the day it was her trying to undermine and trash talk YN, get the others on her side. And while YN’s brother wasn’t like the other two, he wasn’t the most helpful in saying anything when they ganged up on him.

It was horrible for his already not that great mental state and at some point he was pushed too far. The only option for his own health and safety was to leave, but he poured so much into them it was hard. After talking to a friend back in Korea they got him a plan to go back and he saved as much as he could for the ticket. And the moment he had enough his bags were packed and he was on a plane there.

From there he stayed with friend’s, though as they all progressed in life and started dating seriously or getting engaged it became harder for him to do. Thankfully, he had started dating and as he prepared to find someone else to move with Sam offered for them to stay together. YN had been unsure, there was a gut feeling he didn’t listen to, but living with a boyfriend prematurely was better than being homeless.

So, he moved in, but things dissolved quickly. Sam was trash. His manipulative nature became more obvious and though YN could see it, he was really into him. Certain things were let go or blatantly ignored and that gave him incentive to get worse. YN had found him cheating twice and he’d let Sam talk him into staying both times, but things were still bad. Especially as he became disillusioned and realized he had to stay until he could find a place he could afford to live.

Seoul was expensive and even on his great salary he couldn’t afford it. So, he endured it. Dealt with Sam’s bullshit and tried to remind his heart that Sam wasn’t good for them, despite how they still acted as if they were a happy couple.

Life refused to give him a break and with everything crashing down he’d flirted with returning to the US, but that was no better than staying with Sam. And he didn’t want to be there, he wanted to be in Seoul. But that didn’t stop the thoughts as he sat there and ate his subpar sandwich at the cafe he hated.

All he had to do was have a few friends go to get his stuff with him, stay with them for maybe a day and take the next plane back home. It was that easy, though nothing about it felt easy. Especially as he reminded himself he didn’t want to go back. He didn’t want his joy ruined by someone else.

Which meant that before he spiraled in a public place he needed to pull it together and check apartments again. He’d done it on the train ride back to his apartment and found nothing, but things changed.

After several deep breaths he pulled out his phone and scrolled through all the possible apps for housing. Unsurprisingly nothing that he’d rent alone was in his price range that he could do, which frustrated him and almost made him put his phone down but he pushed forward. He’d accepted a long time ago that he would need a roommate, so he narrowed his searches for those kinds and found a few, but they were mostly creepy or still too much.

That’s when he was really ready to give up, but then the app he was on glitched and refreshed the page. Annoying because he had to scroll all the way down again, but also a heaven send. As he re-scrolled he stumbled upon a listing that was below what he was willing to pay and in a great neighborhood close to his place of work.

YN had never moved so fast to look through the pictures and see what other information the person had to say. The room that would be his was spacious, had great windows, and a wonderful view. Plus, the rules laid out weren’t overbearing.

A simple scroll to the bio of the owner, Sidney, had him even happier because he saw a picture of a Black woman with a kind smile. She explained she was a resident at a prestigious hospital and her last roommate moved out, so she needed someone else to help pay the bills. And there was a direct line about not minding gender at all as long as you were a decent person.

For once life appeared to be on YN’s side, so he scrambled to message Sidney through the app giving the required info about himself and making it clear that he could come to meet her as soon as she was available.

He hoped for a response before he got off work, but what he didn’t expect was one ten minutes later as he left the cafe. She told him it was an off day so he could come after five. YN responded quickly that he got off work at fifteen minutes after five and could be there by five thirty. Sidney replied with a confirmation and YN went back to work with a pep in his step and some hope.

However, that hope turned to nerves as he made his way to the apartment. He even debated not going in once he reached the building but persisted and made his way up with the mantra “you got this” playing in his head. It was effective enough that by the time he knocked he believed it.

The door opened a few seconds after his first knock and he was greeted by the woman who’d he’d seen in the picture. She smiled at him.

“You must be YN,” she said.

YN nodded. “Yes, and you’re Sidney.”

“That I am. Please do come in.”

Sidney motioned YN inside and he paused to kick off his shoes before following her further into the apartment. It was so much nicer in person and he felt himself get excited at the thought of living there but had to remind himself that it was possible he wouldn’t. He had to get along with her after all and just because she seemed nice didn’t mean that she would just let him stay or actually was nice.

“I can show you around and then we can sit and talk or the other way around, whatever you’d prefer. Also, a random man may appear at some point, he does not live here but insists on invading my home anyway,” Sidney said, her voice grew louder as she said the last part.

“Oh, shut it,” a voice shouted out in the distance.

YN was confused at first, but also amused by whatever dynamic Sidney had with the mystery man who was supposedly an unwelcomed guest.

“Tour first is fine,” YN said.

“Tour it is then. You can put down your bag and we can start in the kitchen,” she said.

Without looking YN sat his bag on the couch and followed closely behind Sidney. She walked him through the space, pointing what was where and what was what. Every room got a somewhat detailed explanation, even the empty room that could be his. It was weird how in-depth Sidney was for showing someone who hadn’t been given the go ahead to live there yet. But YN assumed it was just how she was or some way to ensure that the person knew a lot before making a choice themselves.

Five minutes later they finished and walked back out to the living room where there was suddenly someone on the couch. YN assumed it was the person Sidney had been calling out before and shrugged it off.

“Okay, now we’ll sit down and talk for a bit. Get to know each other,” Sidney said as she plopped down onto an armchair.

“And if you aren’t some creep I get to ask you questions too,” the man said.

Something about the voice was familiar, but YN didn’t know just how familiar until he finally walked around the couch and could see the man’s tattoos and then his face. His breath caught in his throat and his eyes grew wide as he stared at him.

Yoongi’s reaction was practically the same, going from an intimidating glare to a fish out of water.

“YN?” he asked.

“Uh, you two know each other?” a confused Sidney asked.

All YN could do was nod as he thought about what kind of craziness was his life.

“Um, yeah. We went to college together. Had a lot of the same class and he even helped me build the shop's website,” Yoongi said.

That’s all it took for Sidney to join and create a trio of shocked expressions.

“He’s that YN?”

For some reason that snapped YN out of his momentary glitching as he wondered what she meant by that, but by the glare Yoongi leveled her with he was sure he’d never figure that out. Though Sidney appeared unphased by his clear displeasure and simply shrugged. Which was met with a roll of the eyes before Yoongi focused on YN again.

“I thought you went back home,” Yoongi said.

YN took a moment to clear his throat before nodding. “Yeah, I did. But the plan was always to come back and I did that two years ago.”

“Oh, that’s good. Glad you got to come back,” Yoongi said, a wide smile on his lips.

As he’d learned years back Yoongi’s smile could make anything feel okay and all the nerves and confusion YN felt before he smiled were pushed to the wayside.

“Well I’ve made my decision. You can move in,” Sidney said, disrupting the moment.

Both of them nearly broke their necks turning to look at her, eyes nearly popping out of their heads.

“W-what?” YN asked.

“You have a job and the ability to pay rent, right?”

“Yes. I’m a section leader at LE International. I can even show pay stubs if you’d like.”

“Then that’s that. Yoongi clearly isn’t opposed to you and that’s good enough for me. You can move in whenever.”

“Even right now?”

“If you want, but is that all you have to move in with?” Sidney asked, tone cautious.

Unsure of what to say YN simply shook his head, but when neither of them said anything or pushed he felt the need to give an explanation. Plus, he was let in without any issue and so he felt a sense of comfort with them.

“I do have more stuff, but it’s at my old apartment and going there isn’t a good idea. At least not right now,” he said.

At that Sidney and Yoongi shared a look for a second before Sidney turned to YN and smiled at her though it was a tad unsettling, much different from the ones she’d directed YN’s way before.

“When do they leave the apartment?” she asked.

Startled, YN looked at her for a long time before answering.

“Um, he’s off tonight but works again in two todays,” YN said.

Sidney nodded before turning Yoongi. “Call Kookie, Namjoon, and hell even Jin. Those wide ass shoulders of his are intimidating all on their own. Tell them to meet us here in fifteen.”

Yoongi didn’t say a word, just threw a reassuring look YN’s way before leaving the room to make the calls.

All of it happened so quickly that YN took a second longer to process it all.

“Oh no, you don’t have to ge-”

A shake of Sidney’s head shut him up.

“Two days is much too long to be without your stuff and even if it wasn’t it may not all be there if he sees you aren’t coming back. I know I’m overstepping a bit and I can call this all off, but you deserve to be in an environment away from whatever it is you’re trying to escape and that means without fear of never getting your stuff back. So, we can proceed and even go alone if it makes you more comfortable or stop it here.”

A warmness filled YN and he felt his shoulders shake a little as tears he didn’t know he held back fell. People he barely knew were being nicer to him than of those he’d known for years or his whole life. And they were prepared to go up against her ex for him without a single question asked. It was like a weight lifted off his shoulders.

“Please help,” he managed to mutter.

Sidney nodded and carefully moved closer to YN, asking before she touched him and then easing him into it before pulling him into a tight hug. Something YN didn’t know that he needed until it happened.

Once they got him calm and their friends arrived they headed out to YN’s ex’s place. He was nervous the whole way, but the entire thing was a bit of a blur. They got there, their friend’s Jungkook and Namjoon appearing behind YN was enough to keep Sam at bay and the others packed up his stuff. There were a few words from Sam, but any time he shifted the wrong way Jungkook took a step forward and he shut up. It was a weird switch from the sweet-faced tattooed kid she’d met at Sidney’s and the one ready to kick his ex’s ass if he breathed wrong.

Everything was moved out and Sam had his key back within about thirty minutes. And they were back at the apartment soon after that. They all helped YN unpack his stuff and get comfortable in his room, even ordering his favorite food for dinner.

By eleven that night he was curled up in his new room, in his new apartment, and for the first time in a while he felt like things clicked.

### 

Comfort wasn’t something YN easily found, but it settled in after the first two weeks of living with Sidney. Though she was very busy most of the time with work and school life, she went out of her way to make sure YN was okay and taking proper care of himself. And all her friends were just the same.

After week one of being there he’d met the rest of the friend group, which consisted of Taehyung and Jimin, who he knew from work. They’d been nothing but kind and didn’t push him to tell his life story. All they requested was that he tell them when they crossed a line or truly didn’t want to participate in something; and they’d backed off quickly the one time it happened.

From there it had been so easy to mesh with them, come out of his comfort zone, and just live his life without worries of his ex or where he’d live next. Months passed so quickly and he hadn’t endured a panic attack at all.

It was a nice change of pace and put a bit of a pep in his step.

After a night of watching movies and a morning of breakfast made by Sidney who came off a twelve-hour shift and who apparently craved a mountain of homemade blueberry pancakes. YN didn’t complain because for one it was food he didn’t have to make and for two he hadn’t had pancakes in over a year. So, consuming all that crossed his plate was a must. Though as he traveled to work regret in the form of drowsiness settled in quite a bit.

All that left the moment he stepped in front of the work. Though he’d been working there a while it made him quite anxious to go in every day. He loved his job and wouldn’t trade it for the world, but sometimes that feeling was enough to make him want to try and freelance or something so he could avoid offices and a team of people.

But that wasn’t why his demeanor changed when he arrived. Oh no, it was the two men who stood off to the side of the main doors that did that. Or more so one of the men that was there.

Jimin and Yoongi stood in front of the building with smiles on their faces as they talked together about something that appeared beyond hilarious from the outside looking in. They were laughing and wrapped up in their own worlds as they spoke. Not noticing YN’s gawking nor the many others who eyed them up intensely. Though to be fair YN was sure Jimin was used to it from how much it happened daily. However, with Yoongi there and wearing a short sleeve shirt with his tattoos on full display the attention increased tenfold. Which was always the norm when he came in to work with the company on something.

At some point YN found himself drifting from the momentary drooling over how hot Yoongi was to enjoying the expressions of those who saw them. Something he got so wrapped up in that he didn’t notice Jimin calling his name and waving him over for about fifteen seconds.

Once he snapped out of it, he walked over, head ducked as he avoided the prying eyes of those who noticed where he was headed.

“Hey, we’ve been waiting for you. Thought you normally came in earlier?” Jimin asked after they parted from a hug.

YN nodded. “I do, but I woke up to Sidney cooking breakfast. There was so much of it. She wouldn’t stop filling my plate.”

Yoongi laughed at that, the first sound he’d heard after he’d walked over. It had YN staring him down out of curiosity, but that washed away once he pulled him into a side hug. The affection was brief, but still quite nice.

“Blueberry pancakes?” Yoongi asked.

That guess would’ve left YN from months before surprising, but he’d learned that Yoongi and Sidney knew each other creepy well. Like there was being close to someone and then there was this telepathic like connection where Sidney could see the way Yoongi’s nose twitched and was fast enough to get him a tissue before he sneezed and vice versa.

Though he didn’t think about it often YN was quite jealous of their sibling-like dynamic when compared to the one he had with his own siblings.

“Yeah, she said something about needing them before she lost it,” YN said.

Before Yoongi could respond to that both of them were ushered inside of the building with Jimin muttering about needing to get into the conference room on time. They went without struggle because an angry Jimin wasn’t something anyone wanted and being late wasn’t on the agenda for that morning.

Once the three of them were inside of the elevator Yoongi spoke up.

“She does that when she’s coming off multiple twelve hour shifts sometimes. She’ll either pass out or stress cook blueberry pancakes. I think with the school part of her life finally letting up she has enough energy to make the pancakes now.”

With that new information YN made a mental note to learn to make the pancakes so sometimes she could come home and eat them then pass out. He knew she was a stress cooker and baker, but surely the craving for pancakes existed even when she was dead on her feet. So, the chance for her to get the satisfaction of both was something he liked for her. She worked so hard nonstop and deserved nice things.

While YN plotted on how to get her to teach him the recipe they reached their floor and headed out, going straight to the conference they were to meet that morning. When they walked in they were the last ones, but others were clearly still settling in which meant that their entrance wasn’t the focus. They moved quickly to get into their seats and a few minutes later the meeting began.

“As you know we’re taking on work for an upcoming idol group. Usually that would mean very little from us because they have an in-house team of some sort, but this project is out of their depth. They’re looking for some top-notch work with the concept they’re going for. And because they want things to be cohesive you will be working closely to give ideas and creative direction. This is very involved,” Section Leader Kim said.

Everyone muttered words of understanding before she continued.

“Some of you have hands-on experience with prop type things, so you will be in charge of helping conceptualize that and bring it to life. While three of you will be dealing with a lot of their social media and branding stuff. You will be creating from scratch for them to ensure they appear as unique as possible.”

There were more murmurs and then she directed her gaze towards YN, Jimin, and Yoongi.

“You three will be in charge of all things social media and branding. You will craft from top to bottom. I know YN has experience in it and Yoongi has done it a few times before when he freelances for us, many of those times will partnered with Jimin. So, I’m counting on all of you to do this. Understood?”

“Yes,” they all said.

“Good. There is a meeting set with the company’s creative director, the group, and their manager for an hour from now. Go prepare with your best portfolio examples and take the van that’ll be waiting downstairs in twenty minutes.”

In an instant they were on their feet and out of the room. A mix of fear and excitement drove them to go to their desks and grab any printed things they might need as well as chargers for their tablets just in case. Well, Jimin and YN did, Yoongi simply plopped down into a random chair and started going through his own tablet. When YN walked past he saw him copying certain stuff into one file marked with the project name.

Within fifteen minutes they were ready and in the van that drove them to wherever the meeting was.

YN felt the anxious energy that filled the vehicle but tried to keep his own in check. His focus was on his own tablet organizing some things, so they were easy to find when he tried to show them. However, he did that so quickly that he needed something else to preoccupy his mind, so he opened up his coloring app and used the pen to color in the picture of a sunset. The calming effect wasn’t the same as if it had been paper and crayons, but it helped a great deal. So much so that by the time they reached the company building he felt like he was entering a lunch date with work colleagues and not walking into the lion’s den to do his job well enough to please the entertainment company and his boss.

That didn’t mean that he felt confident enough to take the lead though. Yoongi was the one to do that with YN and Jimin following close behind him. They both got so nervous in new, high pressure environments that it was good to have someone else take charge sometimes.

And with Yoongi at the helm things moved smoothly. They got inside, were brought into a conference room, provided drinks, and NDAs for them to sign. No one tried to be difficult nor did anyone side eye them as often happened, though there were lingering eyes on Yoongi’s tattoos. Would’ve been some on Jimin’s too if he hadn’t worn a long sleeve.

Their wait for others only lasted for about five minutes before they were standing and greeting the group of seven. They all introduced themselves and as the introductions took place YN was shocked to learn that the group was the four, heavily tattooed men. He was very here for it, but surprised nonetheless.

Surprises didn’t stop there though. The moment butts hit seats the creative director dove into what they were looking to do. All of it came at them fast and YN barely had time to process the gist of what the hell was going on. It was about halfway that Jimin asked them to slow down a little and they obliged, explaining things in a less excited manner. Once he finished each of the members took a turn explaining what they hoped things to look like.

From there they were all allowed to share their past work and some ideas. They’d received vague information from work so they’d kind of gotten some understanding of what was wanted, but nothing they had truly fit. That wasn’t a problem though, there was some interest in some of the stuff and it was only the first meeting.

Yoongi had finished explaining something to the manager who’d wondered if they could create some sort of glitch vibe to incorporate when one of the members, Hyun, pulled his attention.

“I apologize if I offend you or it’s too personal, but who gave you that tattoo?” he asked.

Yoongi paused before following Hyun’s gaze to the large tattoo on his forearm that was about as intricate as the others, but glitched out and splashed with colors. It was one of YN’s favorites.

“Oh, Jimin did,” Yoongi said while pointing towards the man in question.

That led to them all looking wide eyed at as bashful Jimin buckled a bit under their gazes. There was some nervous energy wafting off him and YN wasn’t sure if it was because they all appeared amazed or because despite major changes to who could tattoo in Korea they were displeased to see it so openly admitted.

YN knew it was the former, well it mostly seemed like the former.

“You do tattoos?” Moon, another member, asked.

Jimin nodded and then cleared his throat before speaking.

“It’s something I do on the side because I like it. I usually work at Yoongi’s shop. He’s a bit of a reverse of me, works full time doing that and freelances doing this.”

Again, they looked beyond shook at the revelation and that was when things truly got rolling as they brainstormed ideas. They took a few pictures of Yoongi’s tattoo and then built off the concept of it. Though YN was not a tattoo artist, nor did he have any, it was easy to keep up since he was around them so often and found them interesting.

Time flew with their newfound excitement and suddenly four hours had passed. Since the group had other things to do they left first and after finalizing some things with them the creative director also took his leave. He said he wouldn’t need anything from them for the rest of the day, but to spend time coming up with things that fit for what they were trying to do for their meeting a few days later.

So, they left on a high note. The issue was that they were so excited and eager about everything they found themselves at Yoongi’s working on things immediately. They’d all taken up space and began working on designs that they could implement for it. They were only going for rough sketches or bare bones ideas to be decided on next meeting, but it was all consuming.

Seokjin had come through with food and forced them to sleep, but they worked so hard to get everything done. And if it weren’t for their excitement to bounce ideas off each other they would have gone all that time with no social activity at all. Not that isolated while submerging yourself in work so much you only had two people to talk to was a good thing.

Thankfully, they emerged from that behavior before Sidney had to make good to come over and kick all their asses. They’d finished everything in time for their next meeting and when that one went well they truly felt like hot shit.

However, they needed to rough draft a website. Something that Jimin knew how to do but not like them, which worked out since he had a few appointments to do and it didn’t hinder progress. Though it did leave Yoongi and YN alone, something that they hadn’t been since their college project. Which meant awkwardness to start before they got into a groove and found the right flow.

It reminded YN of how much he’d loved working with Yoongi back in college, as well as stirred up some feelings he hadn’t thought about. Not enough to say that he truly fell for the man, but enough that he wished he could ask him to accompany him on a non-work-related outing just the two of them.

Luck was on YN’s side though, because the moment that they finished the website Yoongi turned to him and smiled. One that YN returned whole heartedly before raising his hand so that they could high-five. Yoongi rolled his eyes but did it anyway and then there was a shift.

Instead of releasing YN’s hand he held onto it and stared at him for several, long seconds before he finally said anything.

“I’m going to say something and please tell me if I’m crossing a line,” Yoongi said.

“Uh, okay.”

“I know that it hasn’t been that long since the whole crazy ex thing and us reconnecting in a way we hadn’t when we first met. But I want to take you out on a date. To be clear it’s not anything extremely serious, I’ve just been feeling something and I need to act on it before I allow myself to possibly feel anything stronger.”

YN’s eyes went wide two sentences and just stayed that way for a bit. His mind replayed the words over and over in his head, knowing that he’d heard Yoongi right the first time he said it.

“You want to go on a date with me?” he finally managed to ask.

Again, Yoongi’s smile took form as he nodded. “Yes, I do if that’s something you want to do. No pressure, I’ll be fine if you say no. I’ll even be fine if you say yes and we just don’t fully click that way. A no pressure situation.”

Despite the constant reminder of no pressure, YN felt a great deal of pressure but also none at the same time. He wanted the date to go well so he wanted to try to make it work but knowing that Yoongi was prepared to continue as they were if what they thought was there wasn’t was a relief.

Probably the chillest request for a date he’d ever gotten. Definitely from the chillest person he’d ever encountered.

“Yes, I would like to go on a date with you,” YN finally said.

Yoongi’s smile getting any wider felt impossible but it did. His expression and body language screamed happy and that only enhanced the joy that spread through YN after he’d said yes.

“Anything in mind?” YN asked.

For a moment Yoongi’s lips formed a pout as he mulled it over and then his eyes lit up as he seemingly figured it out.

“There’s this temporary restaurant and art gallery in Incheon. They have some of the work by that one artist you said you liked recently. You could meet me at the shop after my last client on Saturday and we could go. If that’s something that interests you,” he said.

All it took was the mention of seeing the artist Bri’s work for YN to be on board with the plan in an instant.

“Yes. Fuck yes,” he said.

Laughter escaped Yoongi at the response and he nodded. “Saturday it is then.”

YN went home sometime after that feeling a kind of lightness and genuine excitement that he hadn’t in a while. And he didn’t care if it only lasted a few minutes or hours, he savored it. 

### 

The entire time YN got ready for the date he’d been calm. There were no worries or internal meltdowns, no matter how much closer he got to the actual meet up time. He’d gotten up from his binge watching of Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan and showered, then dressed without issue. Didn’t even overthink what to wear, just found something that he deemed date appropriate and casual. Though he did pause for a moment to thank the heavens that the dress code for where they were going was relaxed.

Even as he applied his make-up and waved bye to a half away asleep, still in scrubs Sidney on the couch on his way out he was fine. It was a miracle and he was so happy to not be beside himself, but naturally that all came crashing down.

As he approached the last stop on his train ride he noticed a few people gathered together laughing and talking. They’d all been there since the stop before, but YN paid them no mind as he played a game on his phone. But an extra loud laugh drew his attention and when his head lifted to glance there way he realized he knew them. It was a collection of some of his old friends, ones who’d let them stay with them for a bit and were also the reason he’d met his ex. And with them was aforementioned ex.

A discomfort built in YN’s stomach, not from seeing them but from the idea of confrontation. Despite clear attempts to block him and keep away, Sam had made it his mission to pop up someway in YN’s life for a few months before vanishing completely. And though he’d given up, YN knew him to hold a grudge and be persistent. If he saw YN there would be some attempt to talk and with people to back him avoiding him was hard. But YN told himself he could do it.

YN looked away from them and focused on his phone once more but made sure to keep alert just in case they saw him. He made sure he had everything he came onto the train with, moved his purse from his lap to crossbody, and held his phone firm with Yoongi’s number at the ready.

The moment the train came to his stop he stood and moved past them quickly, keeping his head down and his eyes averted. However, the train jolted a little harder than usual sending him stumbling into one of them a little. He did his best to offer a quick apology and then turned back to the doors willing them to open faster. And when they did he bolted out of there just as his name was being called out by Sam.

People around him were startled by the person sprinting through the station and up to the surface, but YN didn’t stop until he was across the street from the station and amongst a group of people. He paused to catch his breath and ensure he hadn’t been followed out of there and when both of those things were clear he made his way towards the tattoo shop. Thankfully, it wasn’t far from the train station.

As he walked there the adrenaline from that close call left him and made way for the nerves that had remained at bay all day. It was as if they’d been awakened by running into people he wanted to avoid, though something told him it was more likely they’d just been waiting for the right moment to strike. What better moment was when he was only a few hundred feet from the shop's entrance.

One more time that night YN found himself pausing to pull it together, words of encouragement and surety repeated in his head to get him to make the final steps. And once he got in front of the door he was calmer, though not as much as he preferred.

“You got this,” he whispered just as he pushed the door open.

Upon entering he was greeted by Jimin who sat behind the front desk and Jungkook who’d just emerged from one of the back rooms. They both wore genuine smiles, clearly happy to see YN and that was enough for the incident from several minutes ago to leave his brain. People who actually cared deserved more of his focus than anyone else.

“Hey, he just finished up and is cleaning his space. You can go back there if you want,” Jungkook said after a brief hug.

After he hugged Jimin he headed on back without a word. He’d been to their shop a few times and it wasn’t hard to find things. Yoongi’s room was the last one in the hall and when YN reached it he took a deep breath before knocking on it. There was silence and then a soft come in before he proceeded.

When YN opened the door he was met with Yoongi wiping down his chair and the strong smell of a bleach laced cleaning substance. It made his nose wrinkle and he almost backed out of the room, but he got used to the smell quickly.

“Hi,” YN said.

Though that was the natural thing to say YN beat himself up for saying it. Something in him said he could have said something cooler, but he knew damn well trying to be cool or appear chill or whatever the hell he wanted to go for was stupid. Also, Yoongi didn’t give a fuck about that anyway.

Stopping his efforts to clean off the chair, Yoongi stood tall and turned to smile at him. It was wide and though there was a trace of tired etched into his face it didn’t detract from the genuineness of it.

“Hey. I’ll be done in a few minutes. Just want to make sure things are good since I don’t come in tomorrow.”

YN nodded. “That’s fine. I’ll just stare at this wall for a while.”

Yoongi laughed at that and then went back to cleaning.

And true to his word YN proceeded to stare at the wall. But it wasn’t like it was blank, the thing was covered in some of this work. Yoongi tended to make prints of his favorite pieces or the ones that spoke best to his ability and put them framed up on walls. Which meant that the space was beautiful and YN could get lost in examining them all for hours. He’d tuned out Yoongi, Jungkook, Jin, and Sidney talking the first time he laid eyes on it because he was so swept up in it all. They’d all taken faux offense to him ignoring them, but all voiced understanding of why. Their compliments had Yoongi turning red by the end of it.

Something was different about the first time though. At first YN couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but a few seconds later he realized a piece had been moved and there was a new one in its place. While the other had been a drawing the one in its place was a chunk of text. It was in a beautiful script that one would deem impossible to do so fluidly on skin, but Yoongi had achieved that.

Once YN got past that he noticed that it appeared to be words from Puck’s final monologue in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. That made him laugh, but also got him thinking about something that he wanted that was similar. He’d wanted a tattoo when he was younger and then as he grew up and dealt with life the urge became stronger, though he had more direction than before.

While thinking he hadn’t realized how far he’d drifted until Yoongi pressed a hand to his lower back.

“See something you want?” Yoongi asked.

Instinct told him to push the idea aside and tell Yoongi it was nothing, but his mouth and brain seemed to disconnect on the matter.

“Just thinking about how I’ve wanted a tattoo for forever. And this one just makes the urge all the more real.”

There was no response at first and that made YN start to doubt sharing that, but when he turned to glance at Yoongi he saw a thoughtful expression.

“How about we do one?” Yoongi asked after a few more moments tick by.

“Now?”

“Now. I still owe you a tattoo, don’t I? Plus, we can go to the exhibit another day. Though if you don’t want to spend our first date getting takeout and getting a tattoo then we can do it later.”

For a moment YN thought about it, but then realized there wasn’t much to think about at all.

“Yes. Let’s do that.”

And that’s all that was needed to get Yoongi smiling again and guiding YN over to his desk where he sketched out the tattoos. They dove into Yoongi’s portfolio for inspiration, but nothing fully stuck no matter how much YN loved it. After who knows how long they ordered dinner from a nearby sushi restaurant and even as they ate they focused on finding the one.

It was frustrating and YN felt a bit bad about using their date like that only for them to come up with nothing. He’d planned to voice that thought, but then suddenly Yoongi cleared all the stuff and pulled out a pencil and a sketch pad. Then he turned to face YN, expression serious, something that YN had grown used to while they worked together.

“What’s your favorite color?” Yoongi asked.

“Uh… blue.”

“Mine too. Favorite cliche tattoo?”

“Song lyrics.”

Yoongi nodded along and started writing something on the paper, but he held it so YN couldn’t quite make out what it was.

“Favorite time of year?”

“Winter.”

There was more nodding and writing before Yoongi looked up once more, his eyes fixed on YN’s as he spoke.

“And without giving me some job or basic life goal, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

And surprisingly YN knew how to respond without question. “The hero of my own story.”

That got a small smile out of him and he even reached over to squeeze YN’s knee before he wrote something down and then tore the page out of the book. YN watched Yoongi sit the paper to the side and then him sketching on the blank page under it.

Not a word was uttered as he did so, the room silent and uncomfortable. Of course, confusion filled YN but after all the time spent looking and with the determined look of Yoongi’s face he let him do his thing. Which only lasted for a few minutes before Yoongi flipped the sketch pad for YN to see what it was.

YN burst into tears as he took it in.

Everything about it was perfect despite it being in slightly rough shape. The right words were there and even the more drawing oriented parts of it fit so perfectly and didn’t overtake the words. Goodness, YN couldn’t stop focusing on the words. They just slapped him in the face with how well that fit what he wanted. How well they fit him.

Gathering himself was hard, but he managed to make it clear to Yoongi that he loved it and that’s what he wanted. Yoongi wanted to comfort him, but YN waved it off and after making sure that all was fine he got to work getting it drawn on his tablet so he could print it out for stencil.

All of it happened so fast from there, they’d found a spot for it and how it would lay and YN was in the chair ready to go. Yoongi had all his stuff ready to go and the buzz of the tattoo gun brought YN back to, but something was different then.

The euphoria from finding the right thing and finally doing something he’d wanted for years was still there, but there was that voice in the back of his head poking at it. It’s what he wanted and he knew that wouldn’t change, but something just felt off. Like it wasn’t the right time for him to be getting it. Like he wasn’t ready for it.

“Wait,” he said just before Yoongi’s needle touched his skin.

Thankfully, Yoongi heard him just in time and pulled away, turning the gun off and setting it down on the table. Though there was clear confusion on his face he didn’t say anything, just waited for YN to be ready for whatever the next thing was.

His kindness and patience made YN feel guilty and a little bit stupid. He’d gotten a date with Yoongi only for them to not go on the planned one because of some whim that YN had and couldn’t go through with.

“I… I want the tattoo, but I just can’t right now. I don’t know what the fuck it is, but I just… something is telling me that right now isn’t the right time. And I hate that because I know I love it and want it, but I’d hate to have the joy of getting it clouded by whatever weird shit is happening in my head. And I hate it more because we could have been finishing a really great date doing something we both enjoy instead of spending hours doing this only for me to chicken out during the last second. It’s unfair to you. And I’m so, so, so sorry, Yoon.”

YN’s ranting would’ve gone on longer if the guilt hadn’t increased once he realized that he’d been talking for a bit and was definitely going to keep going if he wasn’t stopped.

Following his little spiral there was silence before Yoongi reached out and held both of his hands with his own. He waited until YN looked up at him and then gave him a gentle smile while his hands squeezed YN’s lightly.

“I’m the one who offered out of nowhere. I’m the one who decided to make this a consultation kinda date. I made those choices and I stand by them. We found something and you’re not ready and that’s fine. It happens to a lot of people. Sid almost got the tattoo on her side about ten times before she finally went through with it. And she was as sure as you were about this one, probably cried just as much. I’ve had clients even do that a time or two, it’s not a big deal I promise you. We ate food, we spent time together, and though it was frustrating at times I had a good time with you. I promise. Plus, I already said we could retry that date another time. So, unless you no longer want to go on another date with me, then we can still do that.”

Relief was not the right word for what YN felt after that, but he couldn’t think of another word for it. At least not until he found himself leaned forward with his lips pressed against Yoongi’s. He was unsure if he initiated the kiss, but all that mattered is that Yoongi returned the kiss without hesitation.

When he pulled away YN found the right word for what he felt.

Bliss.

###

Several dates followed the first one and they’re all great. The initial date plan never happens because after the night they were supposed to go, the pop up ended sooner than it should have. That made YN feel even more guilty about changing their plans, but after a great afternoon spent at a festival it was forgotten. Especially with how well things went.

YN and Yoongi clicked in a romantic way. They both felt it and weren’t shy about the growth in their affection towards each other nor their feelings.

However, despite their dating for over a month neither of them had made the move to make things more official. Which wasn’t really necessary since they and everyone else knew they were together, but it didn’t stop the odd thought here and there about if Yoongi genuinely wanted to commit to YN. And he was sure Yoongi had the same thought whenever he went to introduce YN and stumbled on what to call him. Neither of them said anything though.

Everyone thought they were being stupid, including Sidney, but they let them work out their stuff at their own pace. Even if their own pace was two idiots not just addressing the one thing that could remove any inkling of doubt, while knowing the other is thinking it.

It would have gone on longer if on the day that YN and Yoongi were going on yet another date, Sidney was too. There was a doctor that she’d been sleeping with that she sometimes went out with, though usually only as a preface to sex. After an incident where she had to explain to him that anal beads were not in fact candy, things had been strained and Sidney said he’d asked her out to get closer again. She didn’t see it becoming much more, but she also wasn’t against trying so she’d agreed.

As she’d parted ways with YN after they left the apartment there had been an offhand comment from her telling YN to ensure her boyfriend didn’t eat the cookie dough she had sitting in the fridge. The recipe called for a two-day waiting period before baking and she refused to make another batch just because Yoongi was a fiend.

Usually YN brushed off the label, but it stuck with him that time and he felt his mind go into overdrive as his cheeks burned at the thought. Yoongi was not his boyfriend, but he wanted him to be and that meant that he was going to have to ask him. He needed a plan to do that, but just as his brain got to working on one Yoongi’s car pulled up.

The thought was dismissed as he hopped in and Yoongi leaned over to give him a quick peck on the lips before pulling away from the building.

For a moment all YN thought about was how soft his lips were.

That was until he realized he was unfamiliar with the route being driven and didn’t even know what the date was supposed to be.

“Uh, where are we going?” he asked.

Yoongi shook his head immediately. “I didn’t tell you for a reason. You’ll find out when we get there.”

Naturally, that made YN pout, but he didn’t press him for it.

“I would joke about you taking me somewhere to kill me, but you’re too lazy to dispose of a body. Unless Sidney didn’t actually go on a date and is waiting for you and my dead body at a second location.”

At first Yoongi laughed, but then his brows furrowed and a frown formed upon his lips.

“She has a date? Please tell me it’s not with anal bead dude?”

All YN did was sigh and that elicited a groan of annoyance from Yoongi. He didn’t care for the man and that was before the aforementioned incident. There were many times he’d told YN, Sidney, their friends, and the man in question how stupid he thought he was. And how he didn’t understand how he managed to get Sidney to be around him for more than two seconds, let alone became a doctor. It wasn’t the most he’d disliked one of the people Sid was with, but it was apparently up there on the top of the list.

“You know she isn’t even into him that much, so I don’t know why you’re so worried. Not like she’s going to marry him suddenly. She’d probably marry Jin before anyone else. They mesh,” YN offered trying to placate him.

There was a huff from Yoongi and then a nod. “True. Or Hoseok, they would probably be good together. If they ever stopped being busy when the other could finally come around.”

“One day.”

From there conversation fizzled and YN stared out of the window watching the world go by. Minutes ticked by and then they were pulled into a parking lot and headed to a train station. Even as YN realized the direction they were headed he couldn’t figure out what it was they were going to do.

Which was fine since they reached their destination and he would have never guessed it in a million years. And he was beyond happy about that.

They stood in line at a place that wore the sign of the artist he’d wanted to see the work of and from the windows he could see it was a similar pop up to the one they’d been meant to go to. The pieces were different, but it was still a set up for dining amongst the works.

YN was so shocked and giddy that he didn’t utter a word until they were seated at a table for two and waiting for their waiter to return with water.

“I didn’t know they opened another one. I’d been hoping and stalking their accounts for it, but nothing ever came up. Not even yesterday. This is so fuckin’ cool,” he said.

The ramblings of joy didn’t stop there, YN continued on gushing about the artwork and about how much he loved being there. And there were several thank yous thrown Yoongi’s way, all of which he waved off.

There just hadn’t been something that excited him like that in a while and he couldn’t shut up about it. Not that Yoongi seemed to mind. They still had a back and forth, Yoongi putting his two cents in and sometimes being the reason for why the conversation shifted in one direction or another. Though it was mostly about the artwork and sometimes about how good the food was.

Before YN knew it they’d finished dinner and began to walk around to look at the art. Though the entrance area held some there was another room down a short hallway that gave more of the feel of an actual gallery. The things hung in there had a similar feel to the things in the dining space but were vastly different. The artist tended to be more traditional with their stuff, but the things back there were more digital.

And right then YN fell more in love with their work and Yoongi found himself entranced by it for the first time.

At that point they were kids in a candy store calling over the parents every time they found something that they loved. It was chaotic, but they both had enough patience to wait for one another to come look at what they were talking about.

They were beyond adorable. But they were also so caught up in the work that they didn’t realize how much time had passed until there was an announcement of five minutes until closing. There was some pouting on both their parts, but they understood and turned to go hand and hand.

Until YN stopped suddenly.

Confused, Yoongi stopped too and turned to glance at him. He was met with a wide smile, but a determined expression. It clearly worried him and he opened his mouth to speak, but so did YN.

“Is somethi-”

“Will you be my boyfriend? Also, can we do the tattoo tonight?”

The first question had Yoongi choking on air and missing the second one.

“Repeat that,” he said.

Seconds ticked by with YN saying nothing, because despite the confidence during the initial ask, he felt his nerves kick in hard as he was requested to say it again.

“Um, well I asked if you would be my boyfriend and if I could finally get that tattoo.”

More silence came as Yoongi’s mouth opened wide and closed repeatedly, the poor man was doing a terrible fish impression. It would have been funny or something to tease him about in many situations, but all it did was make YN nervous as he waited for an answer.

Thankfully, the suffering only lasted about thirty seconds before Yoongi pulled it together. He pulled YN close, their faces inches apart and then answered.

“Yes,” he said before closing the distance and pressing a kiss to YN’s lips.

It was a gentle, yet passionate kiss that made YN melt into his embrace. He never wanted to leave that moment, but when they pulled apart he couldn’t stop the happy feeling that filled him. Which was only amplified by Yoongi’s bright smile.

They would have stayed like that, but then the two-minute warning came and they realized they needed to move. But before they left Yoongi turned to YN.

“Also, that was yes to both things if that wasn’t clear. I’ll text Kook in the car.”

And just like that they were off. They practically sprinted to the train station and then to the car once they got off the train. There was a buzz of adrenaline surrounding them and it didn’t start to lessen until they stepped foot inside the shop.

Though Yoongi still appeared incredibly happy and ready to conquer the world, YN found himself deflating a bit. Each step towards Yoongi’s room brought on nerves and by the time his butt hit the seat of the tattoo chair he felt like he was halfway ready to sprint out of the room.

All the feelings from when they chose the tattoo came back and he was there unsure of whether to go through it, despite really wanting to. It was a recipe for disappointment and he didn’t want to chicken out again, but his brain wasn’t being kind.

The shift in him went unnoticed by Yoongi until he turned to him with the printed off stencil in hand. When he saw YN’s downturned lips and the tense behavior he frowned.

“We don’t have to do this, you know,” Yoongi said softly.

That almost broke YN, because he was being so sweet about enduring YN’s indecisive ass twice in a row. It was too nice of him and it only made YN frown more, but instead of guilt flooding in certainty did. Something in YN shifted and drowned out the other voice being a pain in his ass and suddenly a smile graced his lips.

“No. I want to do it,” he said.

Of course, Yoongi appeared unsure for a moment but after staring him down he nodded and got to work.

Alcohol pads were used to wipe down YN’s arm and then the stencil was placed. It was done a few times to get the right placement, but when it was just right on his forearm Yoongi proceeded; with caution though.

He allowed YN to choose the music and asked if he was sure, then grabbed the gun and turned it on. The first mark was a tense one for both of them, but as time went on things grew more relaxed and went along smoothly.

The tattoo in question wasn’t that big, but it had some intricate details that needed all of Yoongi’s focus. It left YN alone with his thoughts, but he never drifted to a bad place. If anything he was more so worried about how long it would take and trying to play on his phone without moving the arm that Yoongi was working on.

A few hours and one small break later though, the tattoo was done. Yoongi had been able to get it done completely but said YN would have to come back once it was healed to get it colored again just to be safe.

That didn’t matter to YN though. In that moment all he wanted to do was see the thing. He’d avoided looking at it through the process and during the break so he could get the full effect, and that is definitely what he got.

The moment his eyes laid on the tattoo through the mirror his body shook as tears fell rapidly.

On his forearm was a forest of leafless trees. The setting was winter and that could be seen from the snow that was depicted falling down. While the trees were a lot of the tattoo they started before the crook up his elbow and stopped about two or three inches before his wrist. From that point on a plot of blue dahlias among snow took up the remainder of the space. Though the ones they were thinking of when coming up with the tattoo were red, they’d chosen blue because it was something that already brought YN happiness. But it didn’t stop there. Since the dahlias weren’t as tall as the trees it left space above it. So, in the midst of all the little snowflakes were words written in a beautiful script. They were truly the thing that evoked the most emotion from YN.

We'll be in full bloom at the end of these hardships.

Those words resonated with him on a whole different level and though they were bittersweet, all he felt was joy with them. Hope too. Those were things he thought were out of his reach, but he’d finally felt them.

Yoongi, Sidney, their friends, and most of all YN himself had finally helped him see he could feel like life was on his side. And it was the greatest feeling in the world.

[justoneday-namjoonii]

forgive me

anon request: “I really love the way you write angsty stuff so if u want, can u write a scene where jungkook is like involved in illegal stuff like drugs or maybe he's a hitman, Y/N and Jungkook have a conflict about that because she's not happy with what he does, he gets hurt a lot but he enjoys his job and doesn't wanna give it up cuz he loves the thrill. It can be an emotional scene where Y/N tells him that she's afraid of losing him because of what he does. Honestly come up with anything, I don't mind 😂”

prompt: Jungkook is a druglord, you’re a waitress at a shabby burger place. He loves what he does and even though you try to ignore it, it scares you. You fear you’ll lose him if he doesn’t quit and he’s all you have. Your so called family are full of lies and if it wasn’t for Jungkook, you don’t know where you’d be. You wonder every night if the sirens you hear are for him—you pray it’s not for him. Secretly, he feels the same about you.

pairing: Jungkook x reader

genre: angst, drabble, mental health issues, mentions of murder, mature subject matter

author’s note: For the anon who requested this, this is for you! I hope you enjoy~ did i watch Truth be Told and decide to make the OC a twin? yes, yes i did

When you opened your eyes, you started to feel around for your cellphone. When you couldn't feel for it, you rolled over and yawned, it's probably under the bed. That's where its gonna stay too. As soon as you got home from work, you fell face-first into your bed and taking a shower was the last thing on your mind. But now you're feeling the stale department store smell on your clothes. It takes about two minutes for you to roll out of bed and realize you that Jungkook should have been here by now. You grab your phone and see two missed calls and a text from 2 hours ago.

jungkook💖💫: im sorry ill be over a little later baby, something came up 

jungkook💖💫: i miss you angel

You smile, he always misses you. And you miss him too, but you know he's probably out there in the slums of the city, doing what he does. How you lucked out with him, you have no idea. One night you were trying to call an Uber to get home from a birthday party at the club. It was around midnight and you had to work so you couldn't hang with the hardcore crowd. You went outside to call for a ride but you were being watched. Some guy kept catcalling, just outright harassing you. It was the scariest night of your life. You were telling him to leave you alone but he was drunk or high, either way, he wasn't all there. He snatched your phone. Just when you thought he was going to grab you, a black sports car, one you would have had to work two lifetimes to afford, stopped at the light. And before you know it, the man trying to get you is being dragged into the alley where he probably would have taken you. You remember being frozen, all you could hear was cursing and blunt force. The mystery man, whose car is still in the middle of the road, emerges from the dark corner between the buildings.

You were completely taken. The smile, the hair, the tattoos, and dangling earrings, paired with a striking gaze—he was an angel. He was so beautiful and he was just looking at you stand there with your mouth open.

"If there's one thing I hate, oh here you go," He hands you your phone and you get a nice look at his hand tattoo, "it's motherfuckers who can't leave women the fuck alone. Sorry you had to deal with that, but he won't be bothering you or anyone else after tonight, or use his hands again," He sighs, fixing his clothes a bit and wiping the blood from the corner of his lip, "are you okay?"

"Yeah, thank you," You slip the phone in your bomber jacket pockets, "not a lot of people would stop a stupid guy from bothering a girl they don't even know."

"Yeah, I'm Jungkook by the way," He introduces himself with a smile, situating his nice clothes, "do you- Um, did you need a ride? I'm not a creep I swear," He holds his hands up in surrender when you furrow your brows at the suggesting—great, now she thinks I'm a pervert. 

"I didn't stop that guy as blackmail to get laid, I just-" He pauses to grapple for the right words, "I saw you just standing on the curb and I know it's not safe out here-"

"If it's not any trouble," You interrupt his rambling, "I live about 15 minutes away, I was gonna call a ride but if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it. My name is Y/n, by the way."

That night changed your life forever. It was the first time you had wanted to kiss a stranger, the first night you ever came close to a soulmate. He confesses to having seen you in the club, he was at the bar, refusing offers from every girl from the bartenders to cougars out on the town, at least that's what you always thought. In that little fifteen minutes, you got to know very little about him but you felt so comfortable sharing things about yourself when he asked. He dropped you off and said if you ever needed anything, to give him a call. 

You never got to use the number because you ended up seeing him again. He showed up to your job, but he wasn't there for you, he was there for one of your money laundering and pill-popping associates. You were taking a break and for some reason, the break room was eerily empty. After you heard gunshots and the whole store went into chaos. You remember trying to leave and suddenly being swept away and into an outside electrical room apart of the building. You calmed down enough to realize that it was him but you were baffled.

"What're the odds that you would work at the same place as that bastard," He fiddles with the gun, tucking it to his side and flipping on the safety and pulling off his mask with a toothy grin, "do you remember me?"

"You?... Jungkook, how did you- Why are you-..." You make a small step back and swallow, scrambling to think of something to say. "Have you been following me like some creep?!"

"No! this is just a run-in by fate, I swear I didn't plan it. I'm not even supposed to still be here but I couldn't just leave, not without saying something to you."

"Okay...What do you want to say? I have to get back on the clock." You look him up and down, his all-black clothes and heavy boots intimidating but alluring in many ways.

"Wanna grab a coffee?"

For some reason, you said yes to the familiar stranger.

"Sure- I mean no! No, I can't Jungkook, I have to get back to work-"

"Trust me, just come with me," He extends his hand for you to take and smiles, "you won't regret it."

You took his hand and never looked back.

* * *

Nights like this.

When it's too early to ruin his life and too late to pretend like he wouldn't care. So when he shows up to the lounge to enforce an unpaid debt from a client, he leaves with bruised knuckles, two grand, and a rush of adrenaline. He went a little hard on the guy, but can you blame him? He messed up his plans. Tonight is date night, also known as 'crash at your place' night. It worked out though, you had to work late so he wouldn't be too tardy. Judging by the fact that you haven't answered your phone, you must be knocked out.

He slips his hand into his pocket and fumbles with his keys until he finds the one to your apartment. When he walks inside he hears the sink on and smiles to himself, you must've just woken up. 

"Baby, it's me," He announces himself, "how was your day?"

"Fine," You step out in your work clothes, still trying to get your earrings out, "as fine as a day working for the devil could be." 

"That bad?" You take note of the silk black shirt that's rolled up to his elbows, letting you see his beautiful sleeve of tattoos. When he comes dressed like this, and smelling like smoke you know he's been out into high-end clubs. The way some of the women look at him makes you feel small and a little self-conscious. But he always reassures you that you're who he wants, not some woman who sees him as an experimental one-night stand. When he tells you to meet him in the restroom because he needs to tell you something, you're reminded that you're all he wants.

"She screwed the schedule. My only day off was taken because her favorite, Kasey, has to go out of town."

He unbuttons the buttons on his shirt with deliberate fingers. "You walked out on a job for me before, remember that?" He smiles, letting his shirt fall from his shoulders like a dream. A bruise on his upper arm catches your attention but you don't say anything. "If you're not happy, just leave. I can take care of you, you can be my sugar baby."

"Yeah, my step-mom would love that, I could see it now," You cringe at the thought, "Hey, just a heads up, I'm not working or married but I have a sugar daddy who pays all my bills and lets me use his money for free, oh, he's also a drug lord. She'd really think highly of me then." 

"Fuck Carol, she's a judgmental priss anyway," He comes up to you, hands finding your waist, "why do you care what she thinks about you?" 

"I don't care what she thinks, but if she finds out she'll tell my dad and I don't want to hear it from him. If he pretends to not be disappointed by the lesser-twin one more time, I'll actually cuss him out...He's such a liar, he lied to my mom and he lies to me.”

"Quit saying that," Jungkook grabs you under your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist so he can sit on the edge of your bed, "you're not the lesser-twin, you're the cute and sexy twin." You sit back on his thighs and you both laugh at his attempt to lighten your mood.

"Well, I'm not a successful surgeon and I'm broke as hell, but at least my boyfriend thinks I'm cute." His hands find their way to the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, revealing a disappointing tank top.

"See, this is disappointing. Why are you wearing a tank top? It's a hundred degrees outside." He sighs, looking up at you like a pouting little kid.

"Because I want to," You grin, brushing his hair from his brows, revealing a scratch, "you're cut."

"Yeah, had a run-in with an old friend, we're obviously not friends anymore."

"You should take me with you on these deals and stuff, I'd make a great bodyguard for you," You joke, "if you showed me how to use a gun."

"You?" He giggles at the image of you secretly acting as a bodyguard, a dagger, and a gun in a garter under a skintight dress. "That's not a bad idea, they'd be too distracted looking at how fucking beautiful you are to see you as a threat."

"Yeah, I always saw as the Bonnie & Clyde type of couple," He leans up to kiss you and you smile through it before he pulls away, "eh, you need to shower, you smell like weed."

He furrows his brows, a snarky smile on his mouth. "And you smell like French fries, but I still kissed you.”

"Touche." You can't argue with that, the French fries smell gets to you too.

He picks you up, carrying you to the bathroom with a beaming smile.

"Let's shower then."

 * * *

A deal went bad, he got grazed by a bullet and spent a few hours at the emergency room.

When he pulled in to the driveway and saw your car, he sighed in relief—he was hoping you'd come. After work, you had come by earlier to clear your head and take a breather from your cramped apartment and rowdy neighbors. Ever since his 'new position' he was put up in this huge mansion, equipped with a full staff. Luckily, they were off tonight so no need to keep quiet.

It's getting late and you've been trying to watch a baking show to stay awake but it was getting difficult. He hadn't called or answered any of your calls or texts. When you hear the garage door open, your heavy lids lift and you yawn, trying to wake up so you can tell him how your day has been.

He opens the door with a deep sigh and he's glad you can't see the thick white bandage on his upper arm and tired shadows under his eyes because of the dim lights. "Jungkook, it's so late..." You mumble, sitting up. "what took you so long?"

"Yeah, baby, I just had a mix up with someone who owed the group a lot of money, they, uh- They opened fire and we had a lot to clean up." He offhandedly mentions that and goes to the bathroom to change and you just wait for him.

The painkiller is wearing off but he manages to brush his teeth and slip into some sweats and a t-shirt. After flicking the light switch off, he falls into bed with a heavy exhale. Glad to finally have him close so you can tell him about your terrible day, you turn to hug him, and instantly a wince of pain leaves his mouth. 

"Sorry," You giggled, thinking he was just kidding until you see the bandage on his arm, "Oh my gosh," You sit up, hand reaching for his bandage with concern in your brows, "what happened?"

"It's nothing baby, I was grazed by a bullet and had to go to the ER," He spares you a weak grin, hand rustling through his damp locks, "but it's nothing, I feel fine."

It's always nothing to him. You lean down and place a gentle kiss on his forehead, one he would normally place on you. Nights go by and you know he's out there risking his life, not thinking how devastated you would be if one night he doesn't come back.  

He caresses the apple of your cheek, lips parting when sits up to try to kiss you, but you pull away.

"Hey, I've had a long day I just want to kiss you," He sits up now, "talk to me." 

"Talk to yourself, I'm going to sleep."

"Where the fuck is this coming from?" He glares at you, tone firmer than before. "Y/n, cut the crap. What's the problem?"

"Jungkook, there's no problem I just worry about you."

"I don't mean to make you worry," He speaks softly, "but you know this is what I do, I can't stop now, even if I wanted to."

"I know," Sadly, "but you're all I have."

He tilts his head, a bit confused. "What happened?"

"My sister called when I got off of work. My dad isn't doing well, his liver is in terrible condition and he needs a transplant...He's on a wait-list now." 

Knowing the severed relationship you have with your family, he treads lightly when requesting this. "Do you want to go see him?-"

"No!" You snap. "Why would I want to see him? This is what he gets for killing my mother."

"Y/n, you don't mean that..." Jungkook gets uncomfortable when you enter that head-space, you become ruthless in your words and your eyes glaze over with something he has yet to understand.

"Why not? It's true. He was cheating on her, that's why he never came home and she thought something was wrong. So drove out in the middle of the night during a storm and ended up crashing into a tree, because of him. My sister has always defended him, but I think it's because she didn't like mom either...The two of them may have cried at the funeral but I know them, they were glad she left us. That's why I need you, Jungkook, I don't have them or want them..."

"Y/n, you have to learn to forgive them for whatever you think they did, it's going to drive you insane if you don't...Fuck them, spend your energy on us, okay?"

"I'm already insane, I'm with you, aren't I? You come close to being killed every week, and it bothers me to think you might not come home...But I'll go through that if it means I get to have you, I love you, I only love you..." You lay your head on his shoulder.

He’s your angel.

You aren’t sure what you are to him.

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Can I get some soft huwu? Chillin n bein in love?

Hope you were looking for some sappy, sentimental nonsense because THAT’S WHAT’S ON THE MENU!!!! Also this fic was heavily inspired by the song Honey and Milk by Flower Face, with the lyrics being from Hawks’ point of view, so I would highly recommend it.

Minor Trigger Warning: Mentions/ References to Physical and Emotional Abuse

Hawks the Pro Hero had been known for having his large, ritzy penthouse in the heart of Fukuoka. It took up the entirety of the last floor of the complex building, with large double-pane glass ceilings for a ridiculous amount of natural lighting. The building had top notch security cameras on every floor and an elevator that required a special card key to make it work. He’d held a handful of swanky festivities there to grease some palms and rub elbows at the Commission’s insistence, but he knew the place was really meant to be a glorified cage. 

The security camera and card key elevator were so they could track his movements. Make sure he wasn’t engaging in any salacious indulgences. Sure, he could fly out through the balcony window, but there were cameras and a barrage of questions waiting for him any time he did. The penthouse was luxurious and he should delight in spending his limited free time there, but something about how impersonal the place was felt draining. Everything had been selected for him by his handlers. Almost nothing in that place was something he had selected to be there himself, as if he was too stupid or too lazy to do it himself.  It was stifling to think he was 23 years old and was still monitored like a toddler in their pram. They claimed if he could just buckle down and fully commit to what it was they wanted, there would be no problem.

So, Hawks decided to use that to his advantage. Insist that if they let him keep a “toy” with him, he’d be much better.

Keigo hated having to frame it that way, to try and treat things like they were just something to pass the time and not something he wanted for all of it he had left. But if he didn’t twist things to fit the narrative the Commission had in mind, he wouldn’t be able to have the things he wanted. He learned pretty quick that the only way to win against them was to play their stupid head games the same way they did, and really, he couldn’t put all the blame on himself. After all, this was what they wanted him to be. A perfect little performer, able to flit from side to side on the battlefield to try and gain leverage, try and change the tide as tensions escalated.

But he needed to breathe. He needed something more to keep him motivated now. The idea that he was no longer pushed forward by how useful his handlers considered him had been infuriating for the President. She’d hurled insults and accusations at Hawks, berating him for being made weak and soft, and he’d taken the verbal beatdown without batting an eye. He was used to it from her. She’d said worse things to him, anyway, so there was really no point to getting too ruffled. “I don’t ask for much,” he had drawled, letting his shoulders slump as if relaxed, “so I don’t think this should be too difficult. Give me this one thing and I can promise you’ll get more than what you want.”

Two days later she’d all but tossed the new set of card keys at him, snarling about what an ungrateful little leech he was.

He’d been happy to take the verbal lashing and then the two items to his girlfriend, Todoroki Fuyumi. It had been a chance encounter a few months prior to his promotion to the Number Two slot and collaboration with her father, Endeavor. At the time, he hadn’t even realized who she was, too focused on giving another great performance to really think. It had been some charity event where autographs and pictures were being offered at discounted rates for renovations to a nearby children’s hospital. He hadn’t been expecting much of the event, but he’d seen her amongst the unpaid volunteers and decided to strike up conversation with her. There had been the expected pleasantries - thanking him for his work, thanking him for taking the time out of his day to do this event - and then he expected her to start fluttering her eyelashes and putting the flirt on.

But then she didn’t.

Instead, she got to work, talking to him no different than another organizer, guiding him to his booth and going over how it worked. She milled about and helped with crowd control,  managing the excitable young kids with a gentle and experienced hand. It was interesting to watch, watching frosty blue eyes light up at the looks of glee on the children’s faces as they reacted to whatever it was she said. Heeded up offering to help with clean up afterwards to get another conversation in with her, putting in enough charm to exchange numbers. It wasn’t until their second official date that her family name clicked in his mind. The revelation changed nothing for him, though, and he continued to treat her just as well as he’d done before.

Even then, he was already falling for her fast and hard, he could freely admit.

He groaned as he stepped through the threshold of the apartment, toeing off his kicks and swapping them for the house slippers. He could see Fuyumi’s own carefully tucked away, but he’d already known that she’d be in the apartment that night. He headed to the kitchen and smiled at the covered dishes settled on the table, waiting for him. She’d mentioned wanting to leave him a hearty meal for when he got back in, since he would be off the next day and she felt he deserved it. He chuckled as he reheated each little dish before eating, letting his eyes scan the kitchen.

Just a few short weeks ago, the place had been practically untouched, filled with cooking utensils that had never once been touched. Now, however, the rice cooker sat on the counter instead of the shelf above, clearly having been used recently. For the meal he was reheating, in fact. There was a small pastel pink strawberry-shaped kitchen timer on the counter beside it, but it normally sat nestled at the far end of the bottom row of the now-full spice rack. Matching porcelain dishes sat neatly washed in the drying rack by the sink, these ones more ornate with cherry blossoms decorating them in a blue backdrop as opposed to the militant grey ones he had before, and there were a few splotches of tan and green on the small decorative towels hanging off the oven door. The towels were of an apron-clad mother hen mixing something in a bowl, while a small baby chick chirped at her feet.

The towels were incredibly hokey, but he couldn’t help but love them all the same.

He made quick work of his meal, making sure to take the time and utter a quiet thank you before chowing down. Even if she wouldn’t hear him, he wanted to. Home-cooked things were a rarity in his life, both before and after he became a ward of the government, and even reheated a handful of hours later it was better than any restaurant he could name. before taking the time to wash and dry his own dishes. He paused for a moment before also taking the time to put them all away again, figuring it was the least he could do for the delicious meal.

The short trek from the kitchen to the bedroom for the rest of his pre-bed routine reminded him again of how things were different now. The plush leather couch in the living room now had a plush, pastel yellow throw blanket hanging along the back. The old glass and steel coffee table had been instead replaced with a kotatsu, a small bowl of fresh oranges settled in the center, a small stack of papers and a few colored pens on the far left corner. Pictures now hung in the hallway, in stained birch frames with cleaned glass, depicting moments where he felt the most alive, moments of her own with her mother, brothers or friends, her infectious smile even in a photograph filling him with a warmth he’d never known before.

It was strange but invigorating. How little things could break down the metaphorical bars of his cage and turn it into an actual home. He didn’t dread coming back here on the nights that he knew she was going to be here. He moved carefully through the bedroom to the adjacent bathroom, glancing over at the bed in the center of the room. Even in the dark light, he could see her rumpled white and red speckled hair spread across the pillows, glowing like a halo against the dark burgundy covers around her. The dark coloration of the bedding had been the one point he’d been insistent about, simply because he knew it would retain heat better.

Even if he wasn’t there himself, he wanted to make sure that she was always wrapped in a warm embrace of sorts.

Even as he showered, the evidence that he wasn’t alone was there. His black bath towel hung on the rack beside her blue and white striped one. The bright purple loofah hanging off the shower head. The blackberry scented women’s shaving cream, the pink shaver, and the variety of differently scented body scrubs - one for every special time of year, because she had a fixation with being as coordinated as possible - on the shower rack and their affiliated lotions tucked under the sink until the were needed. The drawer now dedicated to her make-ups and hair accessories, her toothbrush and cinnamon toothpaste - cinnamon because mint would be too on the nose, what with her Quirk - poised beside his and her make-up removing wipes resting just beside his shaving cream and razor. The few smudges of mascara or eyeliner at the edge of the sink, implying she’d dropped one of them while getting ready, all sang the song of an apartment shared by more than one individual.

He was hyper aware of it; partially because of honed instinct and partially by choice. 

Even in his youth, he was alone. His parents were around, sure, but it was clear that he was only to be dragged out when they needed something from him. To make use of him in some way, as either a punching bag or his Quirk for survival. And even with the Commission, his handlers were not affectionate people. He was kept in his room until it was time to do Quirk training, run exercises, practice application of what he was learning through scene plays… And even then, the most he had ever gotten was a gruff, “Acceptable work.” When he’d been given a bit of freedom upon his entrance into Heroics, it had been a breath of fresh air. To mix and mingle, to have an adoring public, it had all been something new and gifted him something that he had craved. The part of him that yearned for meaningful connections with others had been filled by it.

For the first few weeks, anyway.

Far too quickly, however, he realized that the connections he made were not genuine. Not entirely, anyway. The swarms of fans were swarming to Hawks, to the puppet on the Commission’s strings, and not Keigo himself. The other Pros and sidekicks that pleaded for the chance to work with him only wanted to work with him to bask in the bright glow he cast, to gain some of that light to propel their own careers to those same heights. It was never something born out of interest in him, in who he was under the Pro Hero schtick, in the aspects of him that weren’t created by the Commission for the widest array of appeal.

But things were different now, he thought, as he dabbed at his mouth after brushing his teeth. He stared at his own reflection in the mirror for a beat or two. Just a few months ago, he’d been completely miserable with big, dark circles under his eyes that were normally masked using make-up. After all, dark circles wouldn’t play nicely into his Devil-may-care persona, or so claimed the Commissions President. Even now, the bags were still there, but they weren’t as dark and pronounced. Probably because he slept through the night more times than not since Fuyumi started staying regularly. He flashed a small smile to himself before stepping out into the bedroom proper to slip into some sleep pants.

He perked up immediately when he noticed her form sitting up in bed. He could feel her eyes shifting to watch him as he stood in front of the dresser. “Sorry,” he said quietly, "I didn’t mean to wake you.”

She shook her head while stifling a yawn. “Mmm, don’t worry, you didn’t. I was kinda dozing in and out of it for a while,” He nodded before dropping the towel from his waist to shimmy into some boxers. A small huff came from her at the act. “Make sure to hang that towel back up before you come to bed.”

“Of course I will, babe,” he chuckled, already sending two feathers to handle it as he fished out a pair of sweats. He preferred going shirtless at night as it was more comfortable for his wings. Once he was redressed and the feathers had safely returned, their task complete, he made his way over to the bed.

Fuyumi lifted the covers to him as an invitation while she shimmied back down herself. “Did the mackerel reheat well?” she asked, gently patting at her clavicle once he was sitting on the bed.

He was quick to take her up on the offer, swooping down to nuzzle his face into her, breathing in the scent of apple and honey lingering from her shower gel. His arms looped around her waist and her hands found his hair, carefully shifting through the still damp locks. “Mhm. It was delicious. Thank you for the meal,” he murmured against her skin

“It was my pleasure, you know that,” she giggled, pressing a quick peck to his forehead.

He had come to live for the delicate, tender moments with her. The suggestion for her to start moving her things into his apartment had been his, once they’d hit the ten month mark. He knew he was committed, that he’d sooner die than live a day without her. They hadn’t, however, broached the subject with her Father yet. No one knew that they were together, actually, simply because he wanted to keep her protected and respect that she wanted her privacy. He knew her hesitance to outright tell Endeavor came from an ugly place and so didn’t go chasing those battles with her. He knew how it upset her and he didn’t want to force her to confront things she wasn’t ready to. And so, they decided to take the move a step at a time. First, to add personal touches to make the apartment more homey, more like their space, and they’d tell Endeavor the truth once things were a bit more calm. She spent four to five nights a week at the apartment, and at least 80 percent of her things were already moved over, and for now that was enough for them.

The hand in his hair continued its gentle work while her other slid down to caress along his spine. She had learned early on exactly how to relax him best, and her hand made its way to the base of his wings. She took her time massaging at the muscles at the base of each, her touch firm yet still somehow soft. When she massaged them, they would flare out wide and long, to their full height and width, before slumping lax against the pillow top and trilling chirp-like sounds would emanate from his throat to highlight his approval. He remembered a long time ago when he’d feared those noises would startle her away, but she had never found the few avian characteristics he had to be off-putting.

With his wings put to rest, her hand moved from his back to stroke his cheek instead. He shifted his head a bit to chase her fingers, pressing lazy little kisses along each one as they skimmed past his lips, and a small giggle escaped her. “You’re always so beautiful like this,” she breathed, looking at him with such pure adoration. He never got tired of how she watched him, as if he was so much more than he was, the look something that he couldn't put the word to but was certain he knew. Her touch moved to thumb over the mark at the corner of his eye, cool skin soft and soothing. “So relaxed, at ease. Just… Letting yourself drop the Hero moniker. Just breathing and being completely yourself. You never look quite as pretty as you do in these moments.”

His chest tightened at the words and he felt his heart sputter, practically drowning in how head over heels he was falling all over again, suddenly able to place the look. Because he had seen it before, directed at others but never at himself. Something he knew he had looked at others with before, back when bruises and harsh words held the same weight as a kiss or gentle praise. He took in a shuddering breath and burrowed himself back into her, body shaking as he tried to compose himself. He felt overwhelmed but in such a good way, in a way that he'd never known before, and to finally have a word for it filled him so, so much.

It was unconditional love.

“Eh? Keigo? What is it? Did I say something wrong?” Fuyumi fretted, feeling the dampness from his eyes leaking onto her skin and the hem of her nightgown.

He loved her so much but he hated how she'd been conditioned to assume she was always at fault. “No,” he breathed out in a shaky whisper, a shuddering laugh pairing off with it, “no, no. These are good tears, Fuyumi.” It took a moment before she relaxed again and pulled him in closer. Her lips brushed against his hairline, the hand in his hair resuming its work while the other slid to gently rub soothing circles between his shoulder blades. Once he was settled enough, he tilted his head to press a few fleeting kisses along her clavicle. “Didn’t mean to freak you out. Sorry about that.”

“No, it’s okay. You don’t need to apologize for getting emotional,” she said, reaching out to tilt his head up and press a proper kiss to his lips. He hummed and kissed back, letting himself relax into her arms again.

He flashed her a smile when they pulled away. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Keigo,” she hummed, peppering a few kisses along his face. He smiled and leaned into it, basking in the affection of someone who loved him, warts and all.