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lubdubsworld · 3 years

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Insatiable ( Jungkook x Oc ) Chapter 4

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC! Age difference!!!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4

“Dearest, I am appalled. “ My father said apologetically. “ Jungkook told me what happened at the dinner and I’m beginning to rethink this whole idea. These pups need to be on a leash , if they cannot control themselves to this extent.”

I was curled up on the couch next to my dad, his fingers gently stroking my hair while he stared at the screen in front of us. It carried all the accounts of the mansion for the week and the numbers made my head swim . So I ignored it, eating the freshly baked macarons that cook had sent up from the kitchen.

My father occasionally consulted from a bunch of files spread out on the table in front of him and I shuddered again when I thought about Mingyu.

“He was an awful choice father. I should have just told you to set things up with Yugyeom.” I grimaced.

My father nodded at once.

“Of course dearest, I’ll talk to him myself and see if he’s free this weekend. Will that work for you?”

“thank you father.” I said brightly, curling up next to him.

For a few minutes, we both stayed quiet, him humming as he leafed through the files, me munching on a few ripe tangerine pieces.

“What do you think of Jungkook?” My father said suddenly, making me cough.

I swallowed, throat dry.

My father felt me stiffen against him and he chuckled.

“Don’t panic, love. I am way too old not to recognize heartache when I see it. Especially in my own daughter. Your display at the breakfast table yesterday was quite unlike you and I realized, it’s not just a silly infatuation anymore, is it ? ” He rubbed the back of his fingers on my cheek, soothing and gentle.

I didn’t reply.

“I think he’s a good...man.” I finished.

“Ahhh...” My father chuckled. “ Man. Here I am , trying to foist you off on boys who’ve barely popped their fangs for the first time .... when it is obvious that what you need is someone reliable and in control. Therein lies the appeal, does it not, dearest? ”

I flushed red, scrambling to sit up , and clutching the fabric of my skirt in a death grip.

“It’s... it’s stupid. I’ll get over it.” I choked out.

My father hummed.

“Have you told him how you feel?” He asked gently and I stared at him.

“You’re not mad.?” I whispered.

My father chuckled.

“Why would I be mad? I’ve known him for five whole centuries. He’s a fine, upstanding man. Jungkook is fair and strong. He is more than capable of taking care of you and the best part, you would be able to live here forever. I would be lucky to have him as my son in law.” He said firmly.

I felt my body go lax in disbelief.

“Somi .. Somi said...That you wouldn’t approve. Because he isn’t from a strong clan. ”

“Somi worries too much about what the others in our clan may say. Especially your uncle. He’s coming back soon remember? “ My father grimaced.

I felt a shiver run through me.

“Uncle Jaebum? He’s coming back?” I whispered, terrified.

My father hummed, kissing the side of my head.

“Yes he is, love. But don’t worry. I’ll handle him. Your uncle still believes that lineage plays some role in how a vampire turns out but couldn’t be more wrong. i mean , young Mr. Mingyu has single handedly proven that theory wrong , hasn’t he?” My father shook his head, laughing, “ So tell me, has Jungkook agreed to court you?”

I groaned.

“He has categorically stated that he doesn’t want to court me.” I said softly.

My father laughed at that.

“That must’ve been a novel experience for you.”

I pouted.

“Father!” I whined.

“Alright, alright ...dearest. I won’t tease. Did he say why? ” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

“Because I’m too young? Possibly.... He said something about carrying too much baggage and not wanting to ruin my life.”

My father made a noise of impatience.

“The boy is an overthinker. He’s always been that way. He doesn’t look that way but he cares deeply about hurting others. It’s possible he’s only trying to protect you. Albeit in a very misguided way. “

“ Perhaps. But, whatever the reason, he’s not willing to court me. So, no. i don’t think he wants to be your son in law. I wish I could change his mind. ” I muttered, snuggling closer into him.

“Ah, you know I can’t change his mind for you, don’t you flower? That’s your job...”

I sighed.

“I know...”

“If Jungkook does choose to court you. You will have my blessing. I will give you a wedding that will make the world watch in awe. “ He said firmly.

i laughed.

“Really? You made Somi marry Jimin in the barn on the estate.” I grinned.

“Well, Don’t tell your brothers and sisters but you are my favorite after all. “ He whispered conspiratorially and I grinned.

It was funny because I knew he wasn’t even lying.

After my mother had left the clan, my father had taken on the role with enthusiasm. Unlike the head of clans all over the world, my father was approachable , friendly and deeply involved in his children’s lives. And he had always adored me.

“And even if Jungkook doesn’t realize how amazing you are, remember that there are plenty of good men out there. I want you to be happy, dearest. I will not settle for anything less than your complete happiness. “ My father said fiercely and I hugged him closer.

I loved this man too damn much.

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

“ You’re so good at what you do, Sera .” Lee Minhyuk gave me a seductive smile as he watched me wrestle his one year old daughter into her booties with one hand while i kept the other wrapped around her to stop her from toppling backwards on the small seat.

How about you stop flirting and help me dress your daughter , you asshole, I thought angrily, grunting from the effort of crouching for long periods of time.

When the fluffy blue fur boots were finally on, I gave little Cherin’s squishy thighs a soft squeeze, pressing a kiss to her perfect cheeks.

“Good bye cherry berry...” I sang softly, waving gently as she hugged her father’s legs before being scooped up into his arms.

“So, are you free this friday? We could get something to eat?” Minhyuk gave me a wink.

His wife was out of town.

I offered a polite smile in return.

“I’m going to have to pass on that. I don’t date parents, Minhyuk ssi.” I bowed my head lightly.

Minhyuk looked annoyed but his gaze flitted to the 6′3″ man behind me, and he didn’t push the subject, merely bowing before leaving.

Behind me Jungkook cleared his throat.

I turned and he gave me a slow, lazy smirk.

“You don’t date parents? Does that mean we’re not on for tonight anymore?” His eyes danced with mirth, mischief glinting in the black orbs.

I flushed red.

“Stop it, “ i hissed peering over his shoulder to make sure none of the other workers in the daycare had heard him.

Jungkook smiled a little at the panic in my face.

“But then , it isn’t really a date is it? You only want my body.” He sighed deeply in faux disappointment.

I gave him an impish smile.

“It is the best thing you have on offer....” I shrugged.

He laughed.

“Fair enough. Did you tell your dad about Mingyu? ” He asked as the workers began to leave one by one. Joowon had left with some of the other kids earlier, Jimin and Somi having promised to take the kids in the clan out for icecream.

I picked up the stray blocks, dropping them into the huge laundry basket repurposed as a toy bag. i got on my hands and knees to peer under the huge wooden dresser in the corner, looking for stray blocks or toys and picking a few.

My back screamed in protest and i wondered if I was going to spend the rest of eternity with an achy back. I was just too young to be feeling this old.

Was Park Jimin onto something with the whole yoga and stretching and exercise and healthy eating ? Should I stop binge eating french fries and possibly start eating salads?

I sighed, straightening up and twisting my torso a bit only to find Jungkook with his gaze leveled very obviously on my ass.

So much so he didn’t even notice I was looking at him.

I cleared my throat and his gaze left my butt, meeting mine with an absolutely unrepentant look on his face.

“What?” He shrugged. “ I’m just seeing what I’m going to be working with tonight .”

I felt my face flame, hating the way an absolutely ridiculous smile was threatening to make its way onto my face. I turned away quickly, crawling on all fours to the next dresser and peering under it too.

once all the toys were put away and I’d double checked the to do list on the board , We finally closed the day care down for the night. It was just little past six and I stood by the door, watching while he carefully checked all the side gates and the backyard.

Slipping the key into my backpack , I began the walk back to the mansion and he fell into step next to me.

“You didn’t answer my question....” He said softly and I blinked.

“Oh?” I couldn’t remember.

“ Did you tell your father what happened with Mingyu?”

“Did you?” I retorted. and he shrugged.

“I had to give a complete play by play report. Your father was incredibly upset.”

I chuckled.

“He’s very protective of me..” I shrugged.

Jungkook went tellingly quiet.

I felt foreboding rise inside me. Jungkook inhaled sharply, obviously staring to say something but i cut him off quickly.

“He likes you!!” I blurted out quickly. “ I mean..he approves of you... Told me he wouldn’t mind you being his son in law.”

My lack of filter was going to get me killed one of these days.

Jungkook however seemed more amused than annoyed.

“Well, considering the kind of candidates in the race, I can see why he would prefer me. “ He laughed.

I frowned. There was something smug in his tone that irked me. He shouldn’t get to be smug about something like that when he didn’t even want to be with me in the first place.

“They’re not all clowns. Yugyeom is a great guy.” I said sharply.

Jungkook’s eyebrow shot up.

“Is it so?”

I nodded, honest.

“He’s older... almost two centuries old now and he’s a good friend.”

“Two centuries? How on earth did he become your friend?”

“He was one of my tutors during college. So I kind of had a crush on him.... It was all exciting .... You know, teacher and student .....forbidden love and all that “ I smiled.

Jungkook gave me a cheeky smile.

“Ahh...ever sucked his dick off under the desk? Or dreamed of it at least? ” He asked casually and I choked.

“ What? “

“Why do you look so shocked? isn’t that the most common of fantasies?“

I glared at him .

“No... I did not. That’s indecent.”

He stopped walking.

I walked a few steps ahead and paused, turning to stare at him.

“What?” I demanded.

“Sera , what the actual fuck do you think we’re going to be doing tonight?” He asked thoughtfully.

I spluttered .

“I... Its different. I was too young back then. Of course I know what you’re going to do tonight.” I said impatiently, turning around to keep going.

But his hand shot out, gripping my arm and pulling me to him. I crashed into his chest, gripping the fabric to steady myself.

“For someone who was so eager to have me show her the ‘ ropes’ , you’re quite intent on running from me, anytime i bring it up.” He whispered.

i stared resolutely at his chest, refusing to meet his eyes. It wasn’t that I was shy per se. But just looking at his face made me lose my braincells.

“I’m not running away. I just....” Don’t want to read too much into your flirting. Your teasing. Your interest in me. I have to keep my heart safe and I can’t do that with you offering me all of your attention....

“Don’t be nervous, alright? I’ll take good care of you.” He smiled softly.

God, I hated this man.

I could feel heat pool in my belly, spreading all over my body and the urge to throw myself into his arms was so overwhelming.

“I know you will. “ I said softly, finally looking up at him, pressing my palm to his face. “ You’re a good man. A kind man. I knew the minute I saw you that you’d take good care of me. ”

The words seemed to affect him and he bit his lips, grabbing my wrist and pulling my hand away from his face.

“We should go.” He said shortly, pushing away from me and walking away briskly.

“Who’s the one running now, Jeon Jungkook?!!!” I yelled after him and he flipped me off without turning around.

Laughing, I ran to catch up with him again.

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

At 10.55 , I stood outside Jungkook’s room, nervous but eager.

It wasn’t even the prospect of sex, I thought giddily. Just the idea of spending time with him, of listening to him talk, of having him at touching distance .....it was so intoxicating.

I knocked lightly.

Jungkook opened the door , a smile on his face and it was jarring, how young he looked like this.

He was clearly fresh out of the shower. Hair wet and and still dripping a little, he was dressed in a grey hoodie, the sleeves rolled up to show his veiny forearms and grey sweatpants, hands tucked into his pockets as he shook his hair out of his eyes.

It was a futile action and all it really did was send water droplets flying all around.

I blinked against the unexpected spray, water clinging to my lashes and my cheeks.

“Hey!! “ I protested. “ Are you a puppy? Use a towel like the rest of the world.” I mumbled.

He laughed.

“Come in, princess.” He grabbed my wrist, tugging gently and I stepped into his room, looking around eagerly.

He closed the door behind us and I heard him pull the dead bolt into place before turning the key as well.

No interruptions then.....

Good.

“Your room is actually bigger than mine.” I frowned, noting the big four poster bed, complete with a white curtained canopy. I let my gaze fall to the clean white sheets and my mind flashed back to the beautiful Helena, sprawled on the bed in nothing but her underwear.

I swallowed the bitter jealousy that threatened.

Hands wrapped around my waist from behind and he hugged me close, the warmth of his chest heavy and amazing on my body. I jumped a little when i felt the gentle press of his lips on the curve of my neck.

“You sure about this? We don’t have to do anything at all tonight. We can kiss a little, watch a movie and sleep. But you’re a big girl so I’m gonna let you call the shots.” He lightly grabbed a huge chunk of my hair, lifting it out of the way before kissing the back of my neck.

“Uh...” I stared straight ahead, already half aroused. “I want....to feel good.”

He laughed against my skin, his hold around me tightening.

“That can be arranged.” He said hotly, teeth nipping at my skin before he gently turned me around in his arms.

I looked up at him, drinking in his gorgeous face and he hummed, eyes narrowed as though in deep thought.

“Bed?” He prompted and it was ridiculous, how one word could turn me on that bad. I nodded, making to move but he surprised me, crouching and grabbing the back of my thighs, pulling me up so easily, that I shrieked. I wrapped my thighs around his waist, more by instinct than intent and he laughed at the look on my face.

“This always gets the ladies going.” He winked and I flushed.

“Show off...” I muttered, lightly punching his shoulders and he shrugged.

“I don’t hit the gym five times a week to not show off darling.” he drawled, walking over to the bed and tossing me on the mattress. I bounced off the surface, squawking in surprise and I scrambled to sit up but he was already grabbing the hem of his hoodie and tossing it off.

I’d never seen him shirtless but before I could fully appreciate the view, he was climbing on the bed. He grabbed my ankles, tugging me away from the head board and I landed on my back with an oof.

“Ow. You’re being entirely too careless with me. “ I protested.

He crawled forward on his knees, closer and closer till he was throwing one leg over my body, straddling my waist.

“Thought you wanted to be put in your place.” He reminded me and I grinned up at him.

“I think I’m right where I want to be. Under you.” I said honestly and he nodded.

“It’s where you belong.” He whispered, taking me entirely by surprise .

My heart began pounding a familiar ache, a familiar pang. I knew it was an illusion. He didn’t for a second believe I belonged here but it was hard not to believe him, when he was hovering over me , looking like a fallen angel.

God, don’t get emotionally invested. He doesn’t actually mean it, you fool.

“Kiss me.” I held my arms up and he lowered himself carefully, keeping his weight off me as he kissed me, soft and gentle. I let my fingers tangle in the damp ebony locks, tugging gently as he angled himself better, tongue begging entrance.

The heady mint taste of him, sent me into over drive and I wrapped both my legs around his waist, pulling him down.

I took a second to just take him in.

The scent of his skin against mine, clean and woody, slightly sweaty, but mostly just musky. The smell of a man . The weight of him on my body, the hardness of his arousal evident even through the sweatpants. He pulled back to stare at me, his fingers brushing my cheeks.

“You have perfect lips for kissing. Lush and plump. Like tiny pillows I can sink my teeth into.” He whispered, catching my lower lip between his teeth and tugging.

“You have beautiful nipples. I want to lick them some day. .” I breathed, running my thumb on the curve of his cheek bones.

Jungkook stared at me in complete shock for a second and then laughed .

“Thats.... a new one. Jesus. “ he shook his head, almost in disbelief.

“Sorry.” I flushed and he waved off my apology.

“You wanted to feel good right? Shall I start?” His eyes twinkled.

I nodded, way too eagerly and he laughed harder.

“Okay, let’s get you out of these clothes, princess. “ He grabbed my arm, pulling me up to a sitting position before gently tugging the t shirt off my chest. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath and his breath caught s he stared at my breasts.

He stared at them for a second, swallowing before, glancing at me .

“Beautiful.” He said, voice deep and husky.

“Thank you .” I said primly.

He laughed again and shook his head.

“I can’t remember ever laughing so much before sex. This is so weird.”

“Weird bad?” i asked, nervous.

He shook his head.

“Weird good.” He leaned in, kissing my cheek just as he hooked his thumbs into my shorts, pulling them down easily and leaving me completely naked. “ Weird adorable.”

I crossed my legs, drawing my knees up at once, feeling devastatingly shy.

His eyes softened.

“You want me to turn off the lights? “ He asked gently.

“Yes please.” I said desperately and he nodded, quickly climbing off the bed and fumbling with the light switches. He left a single light on , near the closet. It left the rest of the room dimly lit.

“Am I the first one to see you like this?” He asked, rubbing his hands together before climbing onto the bed again.

“Um... after the age of ten, yes.” I laughed nervously.

He hummed.

“You’re gorgeous. Toss me that pillow.” He pointed to the one next to my head and i handed it to him.

“Lie down for me darling.” He smiled.

I hesitated, closing my eyes tight just because it was overwhelming, seeing him in front of me , shirtless and being naked in front of him.

I laid back slowly, knees still pulled up and feet on the bed, thighs pressed together.

My heart was pounding , less from nerves and more from sheer anticipation. I’d waited long enough for this to truly feel nervous or want to back out.

And the fact that it was with Jungkook... I’d pretty much hit the jackpot in first time experiences.

Hands on my knees made my eyes fly open and I found myself staring up into his face.

“You okay?” He asked gently.

i nodded.

“Let me between your legs?” He asked sweetly.

I felt the blood rush to my face, my legs shaking as I spread my knees and thighs, enough to give him space between them. His fingers closed around my ankle lightly, gentle as he ran his hands up and down my legs.

“Relax alright. You wanted to feel good and I’m going to make you feel good. The only thing you need to do is... well.. feel.” He smiled, impish bunny teeth bright even in the darkened room.

I nodded, closing my eyes.

“Don’t wanna watch?” He teased and I shook my head. My pulse kicked up at the very thought of it.

Jungkook wasn’t anything like I’d imagined, I thought miserably. He had been attractive as the stoic, serious man who wanted to do the right thing but like this : naught and flirty and charming , he was absolutely devastating and i wasn’t sure i could come out of this unscathed.

I couldn’t fight the feeling that I was making a huge mistake . that this whole thing was going to end with my heart ripped to shreds....

His lips against my forehead pulled me out of my thoughts and I swallowed.

“I’m going to touch you.” He said softly and I shuddered when his hands closed over my breasts, gentle but firm, kneading the flesh very slowly, thumbs rubbing back and forth on the nipples till they tightened.

I bit my lips to stop myself from crying out, the sensation overwhelming and foreign because it was someone else’s fingers and not my own.

“Hey... “ one soft finger pressed against my lips, parting them gently and i sobbed out loud. “ None of that.... You should be as loud as you want to...how else will I know if I’m getting the job done?”

“You’re getting it done..” I choked out, shaking all over and his kissed my lips again, quick and hard.

“So beautiful.” He murmured, lips pressing kisses down my chest and across my breasts.

“Since you wanted to lick my nipple, let me uh...return the favor? In advance ?” He laughed against my skin and I inhaled sharply when he nipped at the fleshy mound.

His lips closed around my nipples, the suction gentle but his tongue wet and insistent .

I went completely still, my hands flying to his hair and gripping so hard he grunted . My hips lifted off the bed at the sensation, every nerve ending on fire as he kept suckling and licking and god, his teeth...he was using his teeth to bite down on the nub... making me thrash my hips , my body completely overwhelmed .

He kept his lips over the peak, licking the tip over and over till it was tender and wet and hard . He used his hands to knead the other side, thumb rubbing insistently on the neglected nub and I felt my toes curling into th mattress, my arms drooping to loop around his neck as he began to move his hips as well, grinding down on to my thigh.

I was going to black out from having my nipple played with, I thought vacantly.

“Probably won’t feel this good for me but I’m glad you like it.” He laughed again and I loved the sound of it. Loved that he seemed to be enjoying this too. And I wanted him to enjoy it. Wanted to make him feel good too.

So I let my hand drop, down to his waist and then to the front of his pants.

He froze over me.

“Sera-”

“I want to.” I said desperately, knowing what he was going to say. . “ Please , let me touch you too-”

“Hey hey...shush..”He kissed me again quick and heady. “ Remember what I said? You call the shots.... “ He pressed another kiss to the corner of my lips. “ Want me to take off my sweats?”

I nodded, “ Yeah.”

He wiggled out of his pants quickly and i cursed myself for wanting the lights turned off.

I hesitated, rubbing my palm on his pecs and tracing the muscles down to his tightly packed abs and then hesitating.

“You can touch.” He said hotly and I swallowed, letting my fingers flutter down between his gloriously thick thighs. His skin was smooth and hard , like silk over steel and I let my fingers go lower, past the light dusting of hair to the thick, rigid length of him , my fingers closing over the hardness of his cock.

Jungkook jerked forward, head burying into the pillow near my head and he swore.

“Fuck...” He sounded strangled and I laughed , gripping him harder but not a lot because I wasn’t sure how much was too much. .

“I have no idea what I’m doing...” I admitted weakly , loosening my grip a little to stroke up and down over the length of his cock.

“Fuck.. just the fact that you’re doing it is going to make me cum.” He choked out and I laughed, ridiculously flattered.

He grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand away.

“Lick it.” He said softly.

I went still, my brain grinding to a halt.. Lick....??

My eyes went wide.

And so did his.

“Your palm.” He choked out. “ Lick your palm not my..... Your palm. It’s too dry.”

Oh.. oh.

Lick my palm. Not his cock. Right. Got it.

“Okay...”I drew my hand up and hesitated , unsure . Jungkook watched me like a hawk, eyes trained on my mouth and I bit my lips, cupping my palm and spitting into it, twice for good measure. feeling absolutely filthy.

“Fucking hell.” He breathed as I took my hand down to his cock again, wrapping my hand around it and it did feel better, easier to jerk him off with the lubrication. I moved my hands up and down , with no rhythm and Jungkook gritted his teeth.

“Okay... I’m gonna.. “He shivered a little when I tentatively pressed my thumb to the head, surprised to find him wet , on the top. I gathered the moisture around his slit, spreading it all over the head of his cock, using my fingers to rub circles over the crown , fingers tracing the thick vein on the underside.

inside me. This is going to be inside me.

I felt my thighs shake, my insides clenching, wetness dribbling out of me as I squirmed.

“Please... Jungkook , I...”

“I got you...” He whispered, grabbing my hand and pulling it away from his cock.

“hey-” I pouted but he shook his head.

“If you don’t keep your hands off, this'll all be over before it even begins,.” He said dryly.

I closed my eyes again, my nerves picking up.

“Listen...” He said suddenly and I blinked, staring at him. “ I’m going to get you wet...” Oh, god, “ With my tongue.”

My entire body went taut.

“I..”

“It’ll make it easier... trust me. And It’ll feel good. Wasn’t that the goal today? “ He tossed me a wink, squeezing my thighs a bit. He moved back and grabbed the pillow.

“Lift your hips up for me.” He said gently and I raised my butt, jerking when he folded the pillow in half and pushed it under my hips. And the he was crawling backwards, till his face hovered over my belly button.

“Throw your legs over my shoulders....” He said briskly, gripping my thighs , one in each and spreading my legs apart. I did as he asked, the back of my knee resting on the hard muscles of his broad shoulders and i raised my head a bit to peer down at him.

The sight of jungkook’s gorgeous fucking face between my thighs got seared into my head and I fell back, already overwhelmed.

He pressed a soft kiss to my thigh, a little nip my skin and then sucked the skin at the juncture of my hip and thigh. He was breathing in suddenly, a loud, shuddering inhale. His breathing wavered and i felt the sharp pin prick of teeth.

“Shit..”He pulled back and I jumped a little, watching him struggle. He glanced at me and I saw the flash of white between his lips. He’d dropped fang...and was clearly struggling to get them to retract.

“You can do it..” I said feverishly. “ Jungkook , you can.... Drink.”

He shook his head and glanced up at me and the look in his eyes made me startle .... because it looked like he was going to get up, move away , possibly call off this whole thing and no...no that was absolutely not going to happen.

I was not letting him back out of this.

He tried to move, but I grabbed his hair, yanking his mouth back to my thigh.

“Fucking do it...” I snapped angrily and his eyes widened at my tone, “ do it and then fuck me , Jungkook or I swear to God I’ll -”

Sharp, sharp pain lanced through my spine as he bit down, fangs piercing my skin with ease and I felt the rush of liquid as it left my body, filling his mouth as he gulped.

His venom worked its magic, the pain dulling to a throb, a pleasant heady intoxication....meant to make the bleeding out painless, meant to make death pleasant for the prey but for me it was just pleasure.

Pleasure because he could have his fill and I would still be able to give him more.

Pleasure because with me, he could indulge himself, as much as he wanted without worrying about the consequences.

Jungkook groaned against my thighs, his shoulders shaking as he drank and I stroked his hair, petting the dark strands as I fought the slight lightheadedness, knowing that it would pass soon.

Jungkook sucked deeper and I parted my legs moaning when my head began to spin, and then I felt his fingers touch my center, parting my folds , spreading the wetness all over his fingers before his thumb pressed down on my clit, rubbing insistently. I felt myself dripping all over the sheets, so wet and swollen and throbbing...

“Oh, god yes... That feels so good, Jungkook .. I...” I gasped as he slipped one long finger in, deep and without any resistance. The warm wetness in my thigh began spreading and I heard him groan as he sucked harder, drinking me down like i was the finest wine.

“Another... give me more...please...”

He moaned, still drinking, still shaking as he pressed another finger in next to the previous one, deeper still, searching and stroking, tracing every ridge inside me, curling just right, and rubbing down on that spot inside me...the one I could never quite reach by myself.

Jungkook inhaled sharply, his fang sinking in just a little deeper as he latched on tighter and my legs shook as I cried out.

He hummed, using one hand to rub soothing circles on my thigh, while he rubbed his thumb across my clit , hard and the gentle and then hard again until it throbbed and ached , over and over again and I was sure the little nub was bruised, that I wouldn’t be able to touch it for a while without wincing.

I was gushing , my arousal so strong that the sheets were soaked, wet and so damp and the sensation of his fingers, thick and deep inside me while his fangs bit down harder, while he fed from me, was just too much...too much.

I exploded around his fingers , my orgasm so strong that my hips lifted right off the bed, and he fucked me through it, fingers pounding in and out of my wet swollen walls as he pulled away, fangs retracting and I struggled to get on my elbows , to get a look at him.

He looked completely wrecked, fangs still half out, lips red and dripping blood , eyes flashing scarlet and blazing with lust so potent , I felt my insides churn.,,. i stared at him as I clenched over his fingers and he closed his eyes, shoulders shaking as he tried to get his bearings but I grabbed his shoulders, scrabbling to pull him up and closer.

“Inside!” I choked out as he tried to get up, looking punch drunk and out of it.” Get inside me.”

“Sera... you’re...” He was slurring his words and I cried out in sheer frustration, scrabbling to my knees and pushing him down till he was flat on the bed.

“ Please i need it... need your cock inside me Jungkook, fuck...” I begged, my thighs aching and walls clenching from how desperately I wanted to be filled. I stuck my hand between my legs , gathering as much of my wetness as I could before gripping his cock, coating him in my arousal.

There was something so filthy about his hard, thick cock covered in my juices that made my mouth water. I wanted to swallow him down, to feel his cock hit the back of my throat but I wanted him inside me too.

Maybe next time.

“Please....Please can I sit on your cock?!! “ i choked out, fully gone. Jungkook groaned at my words.

“Yes.. fuck... Do it.. Come on baby, take what you want from me.” he whispered. and I scrambled up to straddle his thighs. Gripping the base of his cock, I pressed the tip against my entrance, closing my eyes to brace myself, digging my knees into the mattress for leverage before sinking straight down .

“Oh, fuck....” I shuddered, my entire body thrumming as he pressed in, the hard length of him cleaving me so easily there was absolutely no pain to even register. It was just new. Different.

And so so exhilarating.

I sank all the way down till my ass hit the hardness of his thighs.

And then I couldn’t move anymore. My body shook with tremors and My hands began trembling.

“Jungkook...please... I..”

He responded by reaching out and gripping me thighs.

“Look at me baby...!” He said sharply and I stared down at his sweat slicked face. His eyes flashed red for a second and then he tugged me down, till i was lying flat on his chest. His arms came around my waist, anchoring me in place.

“Gonna give it to you good. Just stay still yeah?” He breathed against my ear as i buried my face in the crook of his neck. And then he was rolling us both over, till I was flat on my back, his hand closing over my thigh, spreading my legs apart as he pistoned straight in.

We were both too far gone for any semblance of a rhythm and I stopped trying to move, merely wrapping my arms around his neck, clinging on as he fucked into me, so hard that I could feel him in my gut. I felt my hips ache from the sheer force of his thrusts, my thighs cramping from how wide he had me spread and my clit throbbing from the way his cock dragged across it with every thrust.

Pleasure swelled, again, this time stringer and I stopped fighting to make it happen, sinking back and letting it crash over me , like a wave breaking over the cliffs.

Jungkook groaned as I exploded around him, my walls clenching around his cock and milking him and he shuddered in my arms, his cock twitching inside me as he came, filling me up .

I gripped his shoulders, clinging to him as he trembled through the aftershocks. I felt my walls clenching, over and over again and Jungkook gave me a strangled moan.

“Too much...baby.. please stop... “ He begged and I froze, realizing that he was too sensitive and wanted to pull out.

“sorry...sorry... “ I willed my walls to stop clenching and he made a noise of sheer exhaustion as he pulled out of me.

I watched as he rolled off me, collapsing on his back, breathing hard.

I stared up at the ceiling, feeling the wet mess of his cum, drip out of me and onto the sheets. I had the sudden made urge to stick my finger down there , scoop it up and taste it but I tamped it down.

“Well.” I began....

He turned to look at me.

I turned to him, still trying to catch my breath.

“I’m not a virgin anymore.” I grinned wide.

He groaned and ran a finger over his face.

“Congratulations, Princess.”

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

Author’s Note : Please i need holy water.

feedback is love. If you don’t tell me you loved this fic i will not write smut anymore.

taglist :

@ladyartemesia @veronawrites @alpaca1612 @bonyg @unseejuice21 @sppvjj @ggukkieland @tae-by-tae @blr1004 @yoongichild @stussyjeon @jellybearo

#jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fics #jungkook vampire #bts vampire au #jungkook vampire au #bts fic #bts smut #bts fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst

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brelione · 4 years

Text

Maniac (Rafe Cameron X Reader)

You were with your friends partying

When the alcohol kicked in

Said you wanted me dead

So, you show up at my home, all alone

With a shovel and a rose

Do you think I'm a joke?

Rafe was stumbling, laughing as tears ran down his face. He knew where he was going, holding a shovel in one hand and a single rose in the other, nearly falling over. Topper had mentioned your name as Rafe took his ninth shot of the night, an idea sparking in his drunk mind.

He turned into your driveway, a tired smile on his face as he banged on your door, seeing four of you staring back at him. “I broughtttt youuuuuu a anniversary gifffft babeee.”He dropped the rose at your feet.

“Am I a fucking joke to you?”You asked, staring up at your ex boyfriend. He grunted, moving forward and leaning against you, limbs turning into jelly. “I wantttt tooo backkkk.”He slurred, drooling on your hoodie.

Cause people like you always want back what they can't have

But I'm past that and you know that

So you should turn back to your outback tellin' them trash

“You cant have me back, Rafe. We’re done, you know that.”You replied, pushing him off of you until he was back on your doorstep. “whhhyyyy?”He asked, sitting down and falling forward. “Go back to your asshole friends, Rafe.”You replied, closing your door and locking it.

Tell all of your friends that I'm crazy and drive you mad

That I'm such a stalker, a watcher, a psychopath

Then tell them you hate me and dated me just for laughs

So, why do you call me and tell me you want me back?

You maniac

The next time you saw Rafe you were at a party that was being thrown by a girl named Tori. She was pretty much royalty so it was no big surprise that your ex boyfriend showed up. You planned on staying away from him, going to grab yourself a drink when you overheard him talking to a group of people as he sat back in a sofa, sipping a beer.

“She drove me mad, dude. Such a stalker too, like, borderline psychopath.”He chuckled. Joshua raised his eyebrows, an amused look on his face as he asked the question. “Why’d you ever date her in the first place?”The boy asked. Rafe shrugged, taking in a deep breath.

“I thought it would be funny.”He lied, not knowing that you were coming up right behind him. You were that one girl that everyone thought was crazy. That you had bugs in your brain, that you were some sort of mad hatter like character.

“Is that why you showed up at my house begging me to take you back last week?”You asked, startling him. He looked up at you, wide eyes. He shook his head slightly, trying to take back his words.

“At least I didnt call you thirty times and leave you tons of messages begging you for forgiveness.”You replied, a slight shrug of your shoulders before pouring cola all over his hair and face. “See you later, crazy Cameron.”You shouted before you left.

You just went too far

At your car, called me crying in the dark

Now you're breaking my heart

So, I show up at your place right away

Wipe the tears off of your face

While you beg me to stay

Three weeks after that you got a call from crazy Cameron at 3:30 in the morning. If you were properly awake you wouldnt have answered but because of your sleepy state you didnt mind, yawning. “(Y-Y/N)? Can you please come over? I cant- I cant feel anything and I cant move!”He sobbed into the phone.

You sniffled, ignoring your own tears. As much as you hated the bastard you found yourself pulling into his driveway, shivering as you opened a fake rock and took out the spare key, going inside his house. You figured he was probably in his bedroom, jogging up the stairs and listening.

You heard a cough from the bathroom, opening the door and seeing him sitting on the toilet, hands pressed to his stomach as he hunched over. “What the hell did you eat?”You asked, walking over quickly. He sobbed, shaking his head. “COme on, get up.”You told him, getting your arms under his armpits and trying to get him to stand but failing miserably.

“I cant!”He shouted. “Rafe, work with me here, bud. What’d you do?”You asked, rubbing your thumb against the back of his neck in attempt to calm him. “I dont…. I took some pills that I got a while ago and I couldnt..I dont know. I couldnt see anything and I needed to get it out and I couldnt throw up and-and I took laxatives and it wont come out!” He cried.

You nodded, stroking his hair. “Okay, im gonna tell you right now that if you dont get off the toilet it’ll never come out. We’re gonna try to stand in three...two...one.”You pulled him up, surprised when he managed to get up, hunching over a bit and using you as a crutch as you guided him to his bed.He took in a deep breath, not even caring that he was no longer wearing pants.

You left the room, getting him something to eat and placing it next to him. “You want me to stay with you?”You offered. He nodded, eating a cracker. You huffed, laying down next to him. You knew that you’d fall asleep but you didnt really care, fading into a deep slumber as Rafe munched on crackers.

You woke up to his arm around your shoulders, forehead against the back of your neck and his eyelashes tickling your skin. “I got it out.”He muttered, kissing your neck lightly. You frowned at the gesture, getting off the bed. “Good.”You spoke, grabbing your phone.

“Where are you going?”He asked, slowly sitting up. “Home.”You replied, seeing him pout. “What happened to us, princess?”He asked, hands in his lap. “You dated me for laughs.”You shrugged. He shook his head, licking his lips. “I didnt mean it, (Y/N)! I couldnt tell them…. Cant you just consider taking me back?” He asked.

“Well, people like you always want back what they can't have.” You shrugged. “But I'm past that and you know that, we’ve been done for months, Rafe. Now keep going around and telling your friends that im trash like the maniac I know you are.”You answered, leaving the room.

@sexytholland @28cnn @popcrone818 @fttayla @cherryobx @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @drewstarkeyobx @poguestyleskye @judayyyw @jjtheangel @jj-iz-bae

@sunwardsss @meaganjm @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @natalie-kate-98 @nxsmss @broken-jj @joshy-obx @prejudic3 @annmariek8 @imagines-07 @pink-meringues @ibookofstars@outerbongs @copper-boom @httpstarkey @teenwaywardasgardian @deionswannabegirl @simonsbluee @jiaraendgame @khiaraaa-in-spacee @on-socks-off @abbiesthings @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless

#rafe angst #rafe headcanon #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron headcanon #rafe x y/n #rafe

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ghostmartyr · 4 years

Text

how a life can move from the darkness [4/?]

| 1 | 2 | 3 |

Summary: Two drug addicts (Eren and Historia) meet in group and decide to be roommates to make their living situation slightly less weird. From there we do the slow burn found family dance mixed in with the struggles and agonies of recovery. Heavy on friendship feels, especially EMA. Eventual yumikuri.

Eren hadn’t been inside Reiner’s house five seconds before Ymir offered her two cents.

“Nice shiner.”

Reiner, halfway through taking off his soaked shirt in the middle of the kitchen and driving Bertolt to insanity over preparing breakfast, rolled his eyes. “Ignore her, Eren,” he said.

Everyone in the house had given him that advice at least once, by now. Eren didn’t make a habit of having breakfast with any of his clients. He wasn’t even having breakfast with Reiner today. Coming in for something besides bottled water after a run had turned into a routine after his first run-in with Ymir. Reiner had tried to book him for an unhealthy number of hours as an apology, so Eren had given in to being social enough to show that he really had forgiven him.

Bertolt, he’d already known fairly well. Reiner talked about him a lot, and when Eren first started taking Reiner out, Bertolt did the same hovering thing Mikasa did with him and Armin. He was a quiet guy, but familiar. The Galliard brothers weren’t quiet, but were almost never there when Eren was.

Ymir didn’t live with them. She just haunted the house.

Reiner claimed she liked using their living room as her office. She was some kind of writer, and always stationed herself on the couch, surrounded by paper. As many comments as she made to Eren, she did spend most of her time working, so it was believable.

Only she had the same look in her eye that Frieda and his mom got when she looked at any of the guys actually living in the house. Eren had assumed it was just Reiner, but it was all of them.

He tried not to make it his business. He was dealing badly enough with his own problems.

“Didn’t Reiner say you were done with fighting?” Ymir asked, circling something in red.

Eren poured himself some orange juice from the pitcher Bertolt kept for them. One long drink later, he didn’t feel any better about any of the ways this could go. Part of the reason people kept telling him to ignore Ymir was that he found Ymir very hard to ignore.

“My roommate threw a tennis ball at me,” he said.

Ymir paused her circling. She twisted around on the couch and gave his eye another look. “Threw,” she said. “Not hit?”

“We were playing catch,” Eren said.

Now she was looking at him like he was one of her clutch. It was annoying in a way that Frieda definitely wasn’t, and his mother only sometimes was. “Right.”

Reiner, who had zero information on what had actually happened, tried to help in between rinsing his hair in the sink. “People play catch, Ymir,” he said. “Eren’s brother hooked him on it early.”

Ymir, the only person in the house who knew anything about ignoring people, continued to act like this was a conversation exclusively between her and Eren. “Keeping your eye on the ball isn’t meant to be taken literally, you know.”

“I know,” Eren said.

Ymir grinned at him and went back to her papers.

Letting the conversation go there felt like it would be a loss, so Eren went ahead and asked. “What are you working on?”

To his surprise, Bertolt responded first. A long history of solemn, quiet staring in the face of conversation eroded. He groaned softly over the skillet, drawing every set of eyes to him like a magnet. Eren waited for him to give his contribution some words, but nothing followed. Reiner picked up the slack.

“Ymir’s a romance novelist,” he said.

“She writes porn,” Bertolt corrected, still dutifully facing the stove.

“Bert used to be my alpha reader,” Ymir said. She was smirking brightly as an angler fish’s lure. “We parted ways over incompatible creative differences. I had to go out in the cold, dark world and pave my way all alone. He won’t even listen to the titles anymore. You’d think years of friendship would promote a little more interest in my life, but…”

Reiner piped up. “He did a good job helping you with the first five.”

Eren didn’t know how old Ymir was, but Reiner only had two years on him, and he’d never gotten the sense that there was some huge gap. All he knew about publishing was that his and Armin’s favorite sci-fi series was lucky to get an addition every two years. That added up to a work ethic he wasn’t sure it was safe to compliment when Bertolt’s expression was so stony. “How many books do you have?”

“Enough that I’m the only person here who doesn’t need someone pitching in on rent,” Ymir said airily. “I don’t have to run around my place dodging tennis balls.”

She gave his eye another look that put Eren’s hackles up. He didn’t think Historia would have much of a problem decking Ymir with a tennis ball without being her roommate. Five seconds of contact would probably be good enough.

Saying something like that would just get more annoying looks.

“She’s really good,” Reiner said. “I can lend you a copy of one if you’re interested.”

“Reiner,” Bertolt said, scraping his spatula through the eggs, “I don’t think Eren wants something like that.”

One of the things Eren had learned early about Reiner was how stubborn he could be about showing off his friends. Waving Bertolt off, he leaned over the island. “He’s exaggerating about the porn. I mean, there’s some—more than some, with a few, but it’s all really tasteful and the focus is more on the emotional connection.”

Eren had never read a romance novel outside of high school literature assignments. He didn’t see this getting him started, and wasn’t sure how Reiner thought the argument that their friend wrote tasteful porn made it less weird, but he nodded blankly. “That’s… great.”

“You could at least buy the boy dinner before foisting erotic literature on him, Reiner,” Ymir said. She slung her head over the back of the couch to give her grin more of an edge. “Besides, I don’t think he swings that way.”

Eren said the first thing that entered his head. “I don’t like baseball.”

Bertolt’s magnet effect transferred to him. The man in question actually turned around long enough for a glance. Reiner’s shaved eyebrows rose. Ymir’s expression hit a delight that made Eren rethink needing Historia around to hit her.

Eren shrugged aggressively and did what he could to drain the orange juice from his glass so he was out of things tying him to their kitchen.

“You know,” Reiner said, “I have been meaning to ask if you want to grab lunch sometime, Eren.” Before Ymir could make good on the promise of her widening smile, he rushed to add, “Not as a date or anything, just, you know. You seem short on friends, so maybe we could spend some time together that isn’t work.”

“Can guarantee that you’ll end up with fewer black eyes with him,” Ymir said.

His bruised face twinged. He remembered to keep his fists lax so that his glass didn’t shatter. He put it down carefully on the island, right next to Reiner’s elbow.

“I have friends.”

Reiner smiled like he understood the first damn thing about the people Eren meant when he said that. “Nothing wrong with a few more.”

There wasn’t, but Eren could still feel the urge to argue on sheer principle of what Reiner was correctly suggesting about his life. Ymir’s smirk didn’t help.

He left the house with lunch plans, which felt like growth, and a gnawing bitter hole in his chest, which felt like everything he still hadn’t fixed.

----

He hated group.

He always hated group.

Today he hated it with a little more direction.

“Today,” Petra said, “I wanted to talk some about the importance of remembering that you’re one of the people you have to make amends to.”

Petra was pretending not to look at him and Historia. She wasn’t doing it very well. Historia just looked at the floor. Eren was trying to do better, but he could feel his body joining in.

They’d needed ice. After the last meeting. Going back inside to ask where to find the ice had been embarrassing. They’d waited until they knew the meeting would be over, but it was still embarrassing, and Petra standing there waiting for them to come back had been an awful cherry on top. She’d told them to stay put. Between the two of them, they ate half of her cookies while they waited.

The burnt cookies. Eren couldn’t taste well enough to care. Historia had stared listlessly at the few folding chairs that were still set up, munching hers mechanically.

“Does it ever help?” she’d asked, before Petra came back. “Talking?”

Eren had given the only answer he could. “I don’t know,” he said through his clotting nose, “but I didn’t used to be able to talk about any of it.”

When Petra had come back, she kept frowning at Historia. Who looked as guilty as she probably felt about Eren’s blackening eye and bloody nose. By Petra’s standards, it wasn’t anywhere near enough. Eren had left distraught, but without bruises. Coming back bleeding with his roommate wasn’t the most comforting image he could have brought in.

She hadn’t said anything then.

Now, not looking at them, she was saying things.

“The hurt we cause other people tends to be very tangible.”

Armin’s face. Eren’s hand in the medicine cabinet.

“We act in ways that cause them pain, and our relationships suffer injuries that we can’t hope to repair while we’re still slaves to our vices. We don’t usually have to ask what went wrong once we’re sober. I think everyone here has something they wish they hadn’t done during the course of their addiction.”

Mikasa asking if he was okay, of all fucking things, and him shouting that he never wanted to see her again. Blaming her for keeping such a good eye on him and not seeing the obvious. Like she’d had a part in his terrible choices.

“Taking responsibility for that damage is part of healing. It helps those we’ve hurt, and reasserts our own control by confronting the past and making up for where we went wrong. It gives us the tools to move on instead of turning our shame into another vice.”

Eren had been gripping the chair so hard that the circulation felt cut off in the tips of his fingers.

He looked up.

“When we refuse to make amends,” Petra said, “we refuse to let our lives move on from the pain and hurt we’ve caused. We refuse to move beyond the person addiction made us.”

Never picking up the phone when it rang. Throwing his mom’s landline at the wall.

“I can’t speak for everyone here, but I know that one of the first barriers I ran into during my recovery was whether or not someone like me even deserved to have the better life I was trying for.”

Historia jerked forward in her chair.

“But that’s what recovery is all about. We turned into someone we don’t want to be, and we want to change.”

Petra looked Eren in the eye. Eren didn’t turn away. His ears were hanging on each word.

“Denying ourselves that chance means denying recovery. It means we stay that person, and we keep doing damage. There is nothing positive found in punishing yourself to a point where you’re killing all the good things you still have left to offer. There’s only more suffering.”

Only more holes in the wall that needed patching.

Eren knew Petra, or the rehab counselor, or maybe even Reiner, had talked about self-destructive behavior before. He knew he’d talked to himself about it before. Drugs or not, he destroyed too much to really be anyone’s greatest representative of recovery. He knew people who relapsed and handled themselves better than he had in his first months of sobriety.

His eye still a shade of purple he hadn’t seen since his last tournament brawl with Annie, he heard the same click his muffled brain had made when Armin caught him. The first awful, miserable step that the drugs had let him run away from until he could barely move at all.

Some people talked about their lists at group. Specific things they wanted to make up to their specific people. Eren had one for his mom, but no one even wanted his apologies. They wanted him better, so he focused on that and called it good enough. He’d done the bare minimum and kept all the doors Armin and Mikasa tried to open slammed shut.

The burn of hatred was familiar. The writhing guilt under it had always felt unproductive. Hate he could do something with. He could swap out wanting things from his life for hating who he was enough to force a change. It worked fine when what he wanted was drugs.

There had been a person before all of that. The one who made his friends. He’d wanted a lot more out of life.

Eren chewed his way through a runny cookie after the end of the meeting. Thinking and not thinking. His head felt like a chalkboard that had just been wiped off. All the dust still in place and incomprehensible.

He did know what to say when Petra came over to join him, though.

“Thanks.”

Petra smiled sadly at him. “Don’t think you were the only one who needed help, Eren.” She sighed and leaned back against the folding table. The plate of cookies rattled. “Forgiveness doesn’t have to be earned to be accepted, but it’s much easier when it is. I’ve known a lot of people who fall into the trap of pushing themselves so hard they never find their way out.”

She ran a tired hand through her hair. “It can’t be about other people. What you need has to matter.”

“What if it doesn’t?”

Eren jumped. So did Petra.

Historia often took to shadowing him at meetings, but she was so much like an actual shadow that it was easy to forget she was there. Standing in the dark corner next to the card table, looking as small as Eren had ever seen her, this time felt intentional.

She was watching Petra.

“It always does,” Petra said, after a moment.

Historia’s jaw was locked shut, a small, nervous twitch all there was to suggest motion.

“But… what if it doesn’t?”

Eren knew he was missing pieces, but there was something deeply wrong with the dark lines in Historia’s expression. It reminded him of the very silent walk home after the last meeting, too distracted with pinning ice to his face to ask if he needed to ask if she was okay, and too ashamed to make it his job to check on her when she slammed her bedroom door shut.

“You matter, Historia,” he said. “So what you need matters.”

Her hands tied themselves together in front of her. The clench of one more repetition was behind her teeth, and Eren suddenly felt very out of his depth. That was one concept that there shouldn’t have been any footing to argue with.

The wrongness lingered all the way home, long after she nodded her head at them like she believed a single word they’d said.

----

He sent Armin a picture of Benjamin.

It took an hour to build up to it. He hid in the bathroom, back against the cabinets, and thought about healing. That thing everyone wanted from him. That thing the broiling wrath in his chest when he looked in the mirrors some days didn’t know how to do, but he still had a chance at.

He found the best picture. He found Armin’s name on the contact list.

He didn’t have to feel anything about it yet. He just had to do it. Make his body move. He was good at that. He had a lifetime of practice of it listening to him, and this time he was going to make it do something positive.

He hit the send button, and the comforting image of Benjamin swimming through his tank to say hello vanished.

He sent Mikasa one, too.

When his phone buzzed with a picture of Rivaille a minute later, fur raised and bright white teeth gleaming, he was still breathing, and there weren’t any holes in the walls or mirrors.

For the first time in months, the heat in his chest didn’t feel like anger.

----

If there was one negative Eren found in having Historia as a roommate and sponsor, it was that she was worse than Mikasa sometimes. Only instead of beating him at every physical challenge he’d ever taken on, she beat him at personal tragedy. That was one record he never wanted his friends anywhere near, and it was the one she always won.

He’d wanted to push. He knew he shouldn’t. Months of group and a few aborted meetings with therapists hadn’t made him any kind of expert on problems. Maybe if he’d known Historia before, he would have gone for it anyway, but experience had beaten some tact into him.

Some.

Maybe not enough. He wasn’t sure, but trying to patch things up with his best friends while he just let whatever Petra had cracked open with Historia fester made him feel like a hypocrite and a coward. He’d been both, and they never made anything better.

Several days of not broaching any serious topics went by before that determination could make any kind of difference. Maybe they were better for it. Maybe that was the only way the conversation would have happened at all.

Eren was on the couch, coordinating with a climbing group he was leading in the morning. Historia was studying under Benjamin’s tank. He probably should have caught how little she was turning the pages. That wasn’t always a fair gauge with her textbooks, but he should have still noticed.

She stopped in the middle of turning one. Her hand drooped to the floor.

“Sponsors are there to help with the addiction parts. Right?”

Eren looked up from telling his group contact that yes, he would have spare bottles, no, that did not mean they shouldn’t bring their own water. Historia stared resolutely at the page she’d stopped at. A panting puppy and a diagram of the panting puppy’s insides stared back.

“Right,” Eren said.

“You’re my sponsor.”

She said it like she was waiting for him to tell her he wasn’t. Eren put his phone down, frowning. “Yeah.” He didn’t know what there was to argue about that, but in case she’d forgotten every time she’d listened to him shriek his trauma at her, he added, “And you’re mine.”

Historia didn’t look away from the book.

Eren waited. The hair on the back of his neck felt unusually prickly. Benjamin swam back and forth at the front of his tank. He liked his hiding spots, but he was starting to prefer the open space when they were both in the room. His tank bubbled away softly.

“I overdosed,” Historia said.

A chill entered the room. Eren eased himself out of his comfortable slouch against the couch cushions. “Okay,” he said, trying to mean it. Or sound gentle. He didn’t know what gentle was supposed to sound like. Mikasa did a thing with her voice that could calm anything, but he’d always fallen short trying to be like her.

Historia’s shoulders were practically covering her head, they were so tense.

“It happens,” he said. He sounded stupid. He’d heard plenty of overdose stories. Reiner had three from before they ended up in rehab together. Eren wasn’t sure how he was still alive, and he didn’t think any of his roommates were, either, but they were all relieved. Overdose stories that ended with rehab and group instead of a body weren’t the worst kind. Historia was still around and sober. That wasn’t something to dress up like a bad thing.

Historia’s hands clasped over her textbook. “No. Not...” Her forehead pressed down against the puppy diagram briefly. Eren could almost hear the gears in her mind turning.

“It was on purpose,” she said.

The chill went inside Eren.

Historia kept talking. Her breathing shook and rattled, but the words came out in a steady stream. “I thought… I thought if that’s how I did it, there wouldn’t be anything to feel sad over. I was already a murderer, but people kept finding excuses for that. If I… if I walked into a new hole all by myself, no one could say it wasn’t my fault. They’d have to—they’d have to know I wasn’t worth any tears.

“That was the plan. Then…” She gave her head a shake. “I—part of me also wondered if it would help. If all of it…”

Petra had said it. After his first meeting. “Painkillers don’t work on broken hearts. We just keep hoping they will.”

Eren’s mind automatically went to a little orange bottle, listening to Historia. He killed the thought off. Viciously.

Historia collected herself. “It didn’t,” she said flatly. “It didn’t help any of it, and then I couldn’t die, because if I died, I couldn’t do more heroin, and at that point I—I wanted the—to—more than I wanted to die. So I kept…”

She took a harsh breath and lifted her head. “It was getting harder to hide. Frieda was going to find out if I kept it up, and she would have tried to…” She turned away from her book to stare at the floor. Eren had never seen someone so far away. “I couldn’t do that to her. The whole point was to make it—easier.” Her voice cracked.

Eren could hear the coming end in the blackest corner of his soul, where he kept the accident. Where he kept the first time he’d taken more than his prescription said to. Where he kept the look on Armin’s face.

“I needed to get it over with before Frieda started worrying,” Historia said.

He didn’t need her to tell him what happened next. His eyes were fixed on her arms. Covered, like they always were, with long sleeves. Out of all the emotions to feel, he felt pathetically sick with gratitude that he couldn’t see. She probably knew exactly which line marked the attempt.

The attempt, he had to remind himself. Historia’s back rose with every breath she took. She was alive.

“Only she found me,” Historia said. “She found me. Because of her, I woke up, and she was there, and I was the one who did everything wrong, but she blamed herself anyway. There was no way to make it easier for her. She’s too good of a person. She—she just couldn’t see when someone was better off—”

What if what you need doesn’t matter?

Historia never talked about recovering. He’d known that. He’d seen it. She talked about her sister. Every single word that should have been spent on her went to Frieda, or their father. She talked about fault, and it always turned into how it was all hers.

He’d gone to group sessions because he wanted his mom to see that he meant it when he said none of it would happen again. He’d wanted her to know that her son was putting in the work, and she could believe that he was okay. He’d wanted to believe for himself that he could end up okay. That he wouldn’t ever be that person again.

Historia had only gone because Frieda needed her to be okay.

“It can’t be about other people. What you need has to matter.”

Eren didn’t know what to say.

Frieda was the only reason he’d ever met Historia.

If it was only about what Historia thought she needed, she’d be dead.

“Do you still want to die?”

Historia’s fists were clenched. Her knuckles were white, and he thought they had been for a while.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“I’m glad you’re not dead,” wasn’t really the point. “Frieda’s glad you’re not,” would just make it worse.

Eren got off the couch and sat down next to Historia. Hesitantly, he stretched out a hand to rest on one of her hiked up shoulders. He barely touched her at all, but he could feel the answering tension. Before some of it actually leaked away. The glaze of Historia’s eyes didn’t look quite so distant anymore. Just sad.

She looked like her sister. Like Frieda when she waited outside Historia’s room, checking to make sure her little sister was still breathing.

“I don’t really get it,” he admitted. He knew hating himself so much he couldn’t breathe, and then not wanting to breathe. He knew wanting to hurt himself. But he didn’t know the first thing about setting up a plan to die. “But you’re still alive, even if it’s just for Frieda. You might as well try to enjoy it.”

Her hands were shaking next to her book. He really wasn’t any good at this.

“I made a promise once,” she said, so softly it was almost a whisper. “To the girl I told you about. She thought I needed to stop running away from myself. That I should be me, and leave the rest of it alone. But when I stood still long enough to find out who that was, I couldn’t see any point in staying.” She tapped the page she still hadn’t turned. Her eyes were as watery as the reflections in Benjamin’s tank. “Sometimes I think it’s good that she left. She didn’t have to find out how empty I really am. Then I think that if she’d just…”

Historia’s shoulders dropped. “I never felt empty with her. I don’t know what was there, but when she left, so did it.”

Eren had been too angry at the time to really notice anything but the rage and the burning coils warping his insides, but he was reminded vividly of the first time he chose not to take Armin’s call. It felt like something was ripping a hole through his heart. Only he’d filled that hole with every bad feeling that dug it. The emptiness never had a chance to send him places.

Then Historia came along, and he had a friend. He was standing outside the hole and thinking about how to patch it. He wasn’t lost in it.

He didn’t know how to translate that, but he owed Historia too much not to try.

“I haven’t felt like myself since my dad,” Eren said, without dwelling on the flash of hands drenched in blood that still popped up every time he touched any of it. “The pills made it all worse, but nothing’s really felt right since then. Not being able to talk to Armin and Mikasa is part of it.” He tightened his hand on Historia’s shoulder, and hoped it was understood as comfort. “I don’t know if all of me is ever going to come back, but I don’t need him. I’m the one still here, so I can fix whatever’s still broken my way.”

He turned his hold into a kind of rough pat. “You’ll figure it out.”

Historia finally looked at him. Tired frankness overtook some of the visible misery. “The last time I tried to figure it out I decided to kill myself.”

“Then that’s ruled that out,” Eren said. He tried to smile, but it felt wrong. Like his jaw had gone numb. “That and the heroin. You aren’t going to end up somewhere worse when you’re trying to get better.”

She was quiet for so long he had to think for a moment if he’d managed to say anything out loud. Her breathing was silent. Her back kept rising, but Eren didn’t think nature photographers knew how to be that still. Armin had shown him a documentary on them once. Historia liked animals, maybe he could link it to her and it could be something to stay alive for.

His insides still felt like they were trapped in a perpetual shiver. Withdrawal without the delirious, racing thoughts that sent ants of pain up his legs.

“Do you have to want better for it to happen?” Historia asked at last.

Eren couldn’t remember where wanting his pills and wanting to destroy the person they turned him into began or ended. They were a blur of hunger and rage, and somehow that turned into wherever he was now. He’d always wanted one thing or another. Flame stickers for his tricycle. A bigger bat than the one Zeke tried to start him with. Beating up Armin’s bullies instead of the other way around. Pills, pills, and pills. His friends. Thing after thing that could make a positive difference in his world.

He might have hated some of the stuff he did to get there, but he’d never not wanted an improvement. The world needed a lot of them. He and Armin had come up with a list of all the things failing it their first year of high school, hitting a protest per item by the end of the calendar. The only way to get anywhere with everything that was wrong was to care and fight for a fix. That was how it worked.

Except for sometimes.

“Sometimes,” he said, “better is someone you’ve never talked to asking you to live with them.”

----

The nightmare was even less of a surprise than they usually were.

He was in the car. Burning dust was filling his lungs. His father, smiling, holding a hand to his head, tried to talk to him. He wasn’t using words. The sounds he made didn’t come with a language, and his lips didn’t move, and Eren couldn’t breathe and his leg turned into lava while he screamed and screamed until he found the sword and pushed it into his father’s chest to make the noise stop.

Only he wasn’t in the car.

Eren jolted upright in his bed, dripping with sweat, freezing, and taking in heaves of fresh, clean air through the hands he’d clapped on top of his mouth to stop the inevitable shout.

He wasn’t in the car. He wasn’t in the damn car, and hadn’t been for—

Eren jerked out of bed. His landing wasn’t graceful, but it didn’t bruise anything.

For a few fragile moments, he stood in his bedroom, doing nothing. A winding trail of salt rolled down his face and dropped to the rug his toes were digging into. His heart was racing and there was a scrape on the back of his hand. He thrashed in his sleep sometimes.

He took a breath and grabbed his blanket. He draped it over his shoulders like a cape, and groggily started the journey to Benjamin’s tank.

A year. He hadn’t been inside that car, listening to his dad’s watch tick away his final seconds, for a whole year. He hadn’t thought about it. He didn’t know how. Cracking open his door and letting his eyes follow the glow that said someone was in the kitchen, he couldn’t land on any other thoughts.

The someone in the kitchen was Frieda, sipping at her mug when he tromped in. Far outside her sister’s door and waiting for him.

They’d shared a few nights like this. Mornings, Armin would correct him with, frowning and telling him he really should take better care of himself. Mikasa would agree. She’d probably grab the mug Frieda was offering and snatch it up so that his arms didn’t have to reach that far.

Eren shivered and grabbed his mug.

“I thought I might see you tonight,” Frieda said.

The hot chocolate didn’t burn his tongue. It was just warm. Eren downed the mug in one shot, fighting back the cold. Frieda took it when he was done, and poured him another. Her eyes were less shadowed than they normally were. When she showed up to watch Historia.

“Did you come here for me?” Eren asked.

Frieda smiled tiredly at him. “I can worry about more than one of you at a time.”

Eren cupped his mug, leeching the warmth. His hands were still slippery, and his eyes weren’t awake enough to see more than a colorful blur beyond Frieda’s face. He felt like he was inside Benjamin’s tank, being asked to swim around and breathe the water.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Frieda asked, echoing her sister.

Eren shrugged. “I talked about it in therapy.”

“Before or after rehab?”

Eren’s jaw locked. Frieda moved herself, switching to his side of the island. Compassion, not pity, layered her expression. Eren knew the difference. His pride wasn’t so clear, but his pride wasn’t worth anything. He turned his mug in his sliding hands.

His dad had been a coffee guy. Eren had been very little when he still worked at the hospital, and one of his favorite bedtime rituals was when his mom would pick him up, perching him on her hip and letting him start the coffeemaker to help daddy wake up for work. Even after he had his own practice, he drank some to start the morning off. Eren’s mom had complained regularly about the habit, and told Eren that if he ever needed more energy, he should consider something less addictive.

There hadn’t been any coffee in the house when Eren moved back in.

“There isn’t much to talk about,” he said. “I can call it an accident now.” Historia had seen to that. “It happened. He’s gone.” Eren had reacted by turning into a degenerate, and he wasn’t going to be that anymore. “I don’t know what else there is to say.”

He remembered apologizing to Zeke in the hospital. Over and over, saying it was all his fault their father was gone, and he was so so sorry, and several nurses swept in and ordered his brother out and then he was falling into a haze that became his only friend. He wondered if Zeke had tried to say anything before he left. He wondered if he had anything to say now, and if a weird phone call or text lay in wait in the day’s future.

Eren didn’t mean to ask it but the words came out and then he was watching Frieda’s face turn to broken glass. “What was it like when your dad died?”

Sharpness and warning lurked in Frieda’s gaze. Her arms came up to wrap around her sides, and her head lowered. Like a bull about to charge. Armin had told him once that bulls knew how to walk around in a china shop. Breaking everything wasn’t an inevitability. Eren didn’t think it worked the same way one on one.

“The situations can’t be compared,” Frieda said brusquely.

“I know that,” Eren said. But you have a baby half-sibling who was there for it, but you seem to like her, but you’re probably happy about which one lived, but don’t you have anything except calling one a murder and one an accident. “But you must have felt something about it.”

Frieda’s whole head rolled with her eyes. They glittered harshly under the kitchen lights. Her hands dropped her mug back to the island, and the clatter echoed.

The silence rang longer.

“Historia wasn’t dead,” she bit out at last. “I don’t know what else I felt. By the time it happened, I hadn’t seen either of them in over a year. Everything considered, the man I knew as my father died long before that.” She pulled a stray strand of hair away from her forehead. Her tone lost its hurry. “I missed him. Then I couldn’t. His death isn’t something I can regret. The… manner was horrific. But he was already gone, and what he left behind took all of my attention.”

Her eyes darted back down the hall.

“The situations can’t be compared,” she repeated. “My grief isn’t with the dead.”

“No.” Eren put his mug down next to hers. He wiped his hands on his blanket. Benjamin’s tank was behind him, or he would have turned to look at it, sleeping fish or no. Joining Frieda to lean against the island would feel too weird. He didn’t like talking to someone he couldn’t look at properly.

“I…” he said. “I can’t even miss him. All I end up thinking about when I try is how it happened, and all the stupid things I did after.” Or Zeke, who was an uncomfortable thought on peaceful days. Eren added, quietly, “I’m a terrible son.”

Frieda’s hand flipped out so fast he almost tried to dodge it. It landed on his shoulder, warm and firm. Nothing but compassion shone in her face, and it was weird having such kindness near so many bad memories.

“The dead don’t care how they’re remembered, Eren,” she said gently.

Tightness spread down Eren’s jaw and into his throat. “He was a good dad. He didn’t deserve…” Me.

Frieda pushed off the island and pulled Eren towards her. Eren tripped into the hug, sure he was going to topple right over her, but Frieda stood as solidly as a tree, and caught him easily. One arm wrapped around his shoulders while the other went upward, stroking the top of his head.

Eren froze. He stood stiff as a log with his chin on her shoulder. He’d been so sure he was taller than her. The telltale burning in his eyes spread like wildfire down his cheeks.

Frieda just held him, letting the drops wet her shirt.

Minutes passed before he could hug her back, but when he did, he clung on like she was the only life raft in the whole ocean.

----

Keeping up with Armin and Mikasa wasn’t easy. Eren stuck to Benjamin photos, mostly. Plus explanations for how he ended up with Benjamin. Sometimes pictures of the apartment.

They were more than he deserved, so they were okay with that. Mikasa sent him Rivaille photos back. Eren had never once missed Rivaille, and he was sure the feeling was mutual, but something about the pictures made some of the barbed wire around his heart unclench.

Armin kept up with copying Eren on his science fact subscription. He hadn’t said anything himself outside of a small thank-you for the Benjamin photos.

He texted Eren the morning of the anniversary of his father’s death. Proper morning, with the sun out. Long after Frieda had left the apartment and tucked Eren under his blanket on the couch, which he would feel bristly about when he stopped feeling grateful.

Eren’s mother had called, too. She’d asked about having him over for dinner. Because he could, he promised to be there.

Zeke had sent him a reminder about the week’s baseball game. If he felt like participating.

Mikasa sent him double the Rivaille pictures without a word.

Petra had emailed him recipes.

Armin’s was the message he was having trouble looking at.

Eren had the day off. By coincidence, not anything intentional. His boss was doing one of his mass cleaning days. Usual design meant a dozen of his closest bar friends and a ton of alcohol. The work got done, but it was a party excuse more than anything. Eren had opted out of this year’s round for obvious reasons. Reiner was helping one of the Galliards’ friends move. None of his other regulars had requested the day.

He sat on his bed, contemplating his phone.

Footsteps padded by his room before he made any profound resolutions.

“You’re getting a lot of messages today,” Historia said from his doorway. She was still in her pajamas. Circles dark enough to be makeup were under her eyes, and she was carrying a bowl of cereal.

“Sorry,” Eren said automatically. “I can switch it to vibrate if you’re going to be home.”

Historia lingered. “I was wondering if something was wrong.”

Eren crossed his legs, phone in hand. Historia had seen him sleeping on the couch. She’d also known Frieda long enough to recognize her handwriting on the note left on the armrest. She wasn’t enough of a snoop to investigate, but it didn’t take an Armin to put two and two together.

“My dad died a year ago today,” Eren said, all at once.

Historia said, “Oh.”

She didn’t keep moving towards her room.

They hadn’t really left their talk about her wanting to kill herself in a great place. It left a shadow over everything. Quiet was picking up the pattern of going awkward fast. He didn’t have any good answers, she hadn’t found her better, and they were both waiting for the restless discomfort to land somewhere workable.

He knew he was crap at helping people, but he’d wanted to think that he could help the one friend he hadn’t screwed up. All he’d come up with was understanding a bit better why Frieda was someone she thought was worth staying alive for when nothing else was.

“Armin and Mikasa wanted to check in?” Historia asked.

“Yeah,” Eren said. His fingers drummed against his phone case. “I guess, anyway. I haven’t looked at Armin’s thing yet. That’s probably what it is.”

Historia stayed where she was, standing in the hallway like a tiny bedraggled gargoyle. Her spoon slipped halfheartedly in its bowl. “You can invite them over, if you want.”

Eren barked out a laugh. “I can barely text them.”

“I didn’t mean today,” she said. “Unless they’d help. Just that you can.” She pulled at a string dangling from her sleeve. The spoon slid again. “That’s what people do with friends, isn’t it? Invite them over when things are bad?”

Armin and Mikasa had never been far enough away that Eren had to invite them.

“Probably,” Eren said.

Historia’s back was resting on the hallway wall. She wasn’t really looking at him, since looking would take something a little more human in her eyes, but she was clearly trying. “Do you want me to read it?”

“No.”

He said it fast enough to make it obvious he’d been thinking about it. Eren shifted his grip around his phone. The notification blip was staring at him. It reminded him of the look Armin got when he wasn’t sure if he should say what was on his genius mind or not.

Eren was projecting and he knew it, but the image was still crystal clear.

“I’ll read it,” he said. “I just needed a second, and I’ve had plenty.”

Historia watched him for a handful more. He would have put on his well-adjusted mask, but that wasn’t supposed to be a mask, and he didn’t have one anyway. And maybe on a day like today, ‘okay’ wasn’t the standard people were expecting.

“Okay,” Historia said, leaving the wall. “Let me know if you need… anything.”

Eren waved her off halfheartedly, and it was good enough.

His finger hovered over the text app icon.

He was being stupid again. Knowing it didn’t make it feel much better. There was a vice around his temples, and if he wanted to he could be more of a child and put off looking until he’d counted out his pulse. Each beat came like a nail into a coffin.

Thoughts of sunny skies and funerals danced along to the sound.

Eren clicked the icon with a rough jerk of his fingers, the waiting words bouncing off his eyes. He wasn’t going back to that place. Not now, not ever. It didn’t matter what day of the year it was.

Resolve as settled as it could be, he read the damn message. The first real words Armin had sent his way since walking in on the worst thing Eren had ever done to him. Proof that Armin had always been the braver one.

“I know it might be a little much,” the text read, “but I wanted to say it again. We’re here for you, Eren.”

Eren couldn’t breathe for a moment.

A lengthy one, air halting in his lungs with the force of a tennis ball against a brick wall.

He’d never really been able to forget Armin. He’d tried, and he’d lied to himself about how often his thoughts went to his best friend. He’d told himself the jump his nerves gave the first time he saw Historia out of the corner of his eye had nothing to do with anything like hope. He’d shouted at himself to give up on the fantasy of sharing an apartment with his best friend after he’d had to move back in with his mom.

Somewhere, though—everywhere—Armin left a shadow.

The brave, brilliant boy who had let Eren be his best friend.

The boy he’d betrayed. The one who still cared anyway.

Tears came before the sobs wanted to. The words blurred, and the back of his throat burned. He clutched his covers in his hand, bringing them up to dry his eyes, but it only seemed to spread the wetness all over his face.

He didn’t deserve these people. Not a single one.

The dark, wretched hatred for himself tried to rise up the way it always did, waiting to point out how fucking obvious that had always been, waiting to scream and rage over how badly he had fucked up for this perfect friend, but its foothold melted away before it could even start. A glow, softer and more solid than any of the biting fury he’d spent a year letting consume him, walled the dark feelings off.

Armin was still trying. All of them were still trying.

He didn’t deserve them. There was a good shot that nothing he did would ever come close to being worthy of any of them or their love, but he could do better than being a ghosting asshole who couldn’t be bothered to let his friends know he was alive without a middleman.

Fingers damp and shaking, Eren typed out his reply.

thank you

----

Reiner wanted to do a triathlon.

There shouldn’t have been a problem with that. Most of Eren’s clients were training up for one event or another. Some of them could be defined as seasonal with how regular they were with their patronage. He wasn’t big on swimming, but he knew his way around the necessities. Reiner was a far shot from his peak still, but his body could take it.

“For fuck’s sake,” said one problem, “Reiner, I’ll handle the bike, you go scrub your face before you blind yourself.”

Eren wasn’t sure if Ymir was a person anyone was meant to get along with. She seemed to delight in that part of herself. Half of every way she interacted with him whenever they were in the same space had to do with annoying him, and all of it was on purpose.

She was paying to be part of Reiner’s training program.

“I like biking,” she’d said, flipping through one of her manuscripts. “Is giving you money some kind of crime now?”

Bertolt had looked seconds away from saying something that entire round of breakfast. Which Reiner had somehow turned into part of their routine when he wasn’t looking. By the time Eren left, Bertolt still hadn’t made much of a comment, but he wouldn’t stop giving Ymir odd looks. She didn’t glance back at him once.

Ymir did like biking, Reiner had confided. She refused to pay extra for a parking spot in her apartment complex, so she’d taken it up with spiteful enthusiasm. Eren thought it likely that was how she ran her entire life.

The main problem with all of this wasn’t actually Ymir.

It was Reiner not being great with bikes. He had no feel for turns. He was new to road racing. He’d had to buy a bike because he didn’t own one. Most of their rides included a devoted portion of attention going to making sure Reiner didn’t go crashing down the mountain trail.

Like he’d just tried to do.

Ymir didn’t bother being gentle about shoving Reiner towards the bathrooms of the camping area they’d reached. Sap and pine needles had taken over his forehead, and Eren could spot some red leaking through the dirt. He’d been able to catch Reiner before he rolled too far, but they’d been going fast, and Reiner hit the sloping ground hard.

Eren picked a collection of muddy leaves off his elbow, walking his bike over to where Ymir was fixing Reiner’s back to one piece.

“He’s like this,” she told him, pulling at the chain. “No thinking, just pure finish line glamour taking up his head. He’s only trying for it because the local paper brought it up as a great, inspiring yearly surge of community energy.” She dusted a spot of grime aggressively from her hand. “Because he’s all about getting his surges of community energy without paying people in back alleys now.”

“Is that why you came along?” Eren asked. “To keep an eye on him?”

Ymir frowned. She tipped her helmet back and cast Eren a look that managed to be more uninviting than her usual smirk. Eren, sweaty, hot, and used to nasty looks, let the staring contest go on until she rolled her eyes and went back to the bike.

“Reiner’s a full-fledged adult,” she said, sarcasm coming like a song. “Why would anyone ever need to keep an eye on him? It isn’t like we’ve all had to watch him try to kill himself with drugs several times over.”

Eren kept his mouth shut.

Ymir shook her head and huffed out a laugh that maybe wasn’t mocking. “Don’t try to give me too much credit, Eren. I’m not hovering because I don’t trust him—that’s Bert’s thing. I just know him. He can’t cut off the part of his head that has him hitting rock bottom with his crap. Moderation would take him being less of a masochist. Someone needs to be around to catch him when he takes a stage dive off the edge of a cliff.”

“I caught him,” Eren couldn’t help but point out. With more edge than he really meant to add.

“Yeah.” Ymir finished up with the chain and propped herself up. The gleam in her eye was duller than he was used to. “Nice reflexes, by the way. Not what I expected from someone who can’t dodge a tennis ball.”

Eren pointedly took a drag from his water bottle. Giving Ymir words to build on was the latest habit he was finally starting to break. Her smile glinted at him through the shade.

“How long have you known each other?”

Ymir shrugged. “Life, I guess. Long enough to not bother counting.”

She pulled off her helmet and ran a hand through her hair, collecting droplets of sweat and flicking them into the air. Nothing else gave away how hard they’d been riding. Her rust-red shirt was clear of any darker patches, and the only breathing Eren heard out of her the whole way up was her loud sighs. She leaned casually between her bike and Reiner’s, watching the path he’d taken to the restrooms.

“Was it hard?”

She spared him a flicker of interest. “Excruciating. No one needs that many years with Reiner.”

Eren took off his own helmet. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

“Then try speaking a little more plainly for the peanut gallery.”

Eren lowered himself to his handlebars, taking in the leaves and the weeds on the ground instead of wasting his pride on eye contact. A lizard skittered past. “After you found out about the heroin,” he said. “Did… what was it like getting back to normal?”

Ymir’s shadow didn’t move in the dirt. He heard another of her sighs. A lighter, unintentional kind. Reiner’s kickstand creaked under her weight.

“Have some people you want to reconnect with?” she asked at last.

Eren didn’t see a point denying it. “Yeah.”

She chuckled dryly. Her shadow took another swipe at her hair. “Then you’re talking to the wrong focus group.” She spun her helmet in her hand. “Reiner fucked himself up while I was serving out a sentence for my own illegal recreational hobbies. By the time I got out, there wasn’t any point caring how badly we’d screwed ourselves. We could all lend a helping hand or fuck off and never speak to each other again.” Eren looked up in time to catch her smirking at him. “Guess which option a little birdie just out of a cage is stuck with?”

Eren had too much experience with Historia to want to ask what Ymir had done to land herself in jail. He also couldn’t really be surprised.

“That’s why Bert’s so pissy about all of this. Aside from the obvious,” Ymir added. She kept spinning her helmet. “He had to sit through every minute. Second chances after you’ve watched the first three go up in smoke are hard to keep going.” She eyed Eren, a peculiar smile playing at her lips. “That’s not you though, is it? One and done. You really want the sort of friends who’ll ditch you over that?”

Eren’s phone burned a hole in his back pocket. “They never ditched me.”

Ymir graced him with an oddly respectful silence. They both watched another lizard run through the disturbed leaves Reiner’s fall had kicked up. Squirrels were chittering in the above trees. One by the nearest campsite sent a pinecone crashing to the ground. Birds were singing.

“Other way around, huh?”

Eren’s nod felt like bending steel.

Ymir laughed her way through a sigh. “Nice. Nothing like being a crappy person to people who deserve the best.” She rested her chin on a fist. Reiner’s bike tilted heavily under her. “Sit back, pray, and hope they’re stupid enough to still want you when you stumble on back. There’s not much else for it.”

Tired gloom drifted over her face with the clouds, sharpening the hard look in her eyes.

“You’ve even got a handicap. You already know they’ll take you back” she said tightly. “Spend less time whining about it and more time working with it. Then let the magic of friendship take over and deal with whatever new normal that saddles you with. Or are you stupid enough to be picky about that?”

“Yes,” was the answer to that.

Eren looked out at the beaten path to the restrooms. He felt fidgety.

He’d known Armin and Mikasa all his life. Or at least the parts of it that mattered. He didn’t want a new normal. He wanted the peaceful, carefree days before him being a fucking moron. He didn’t want awkward prodding about whether or not they might want to drop by his new place and say hi; he wanted them to have keys and waltz in like they owned it.

He wanted to skip a whole bunch of steps in how they’d fix everything. Just because he missed them, and the hate had receded enough for that to start aching.

Reiner stepped back outside, newly clean and waving in their direction before he started jogging over.

Ymir bumped her helmet against the top of Eren’s head. He looked over. She was still lounging against the handlebars.

“Eren?” she said. “I’m here because Reiner can’t ride a fucking bike.”

[next]

#drug au #fic #mine #long post

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nachtgraves · 4 years

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Fic: Lotta’s Boys

Started this when episode 3 or 4 came out and got my shit together to finally finish it. It is... much longer than I thought it would be.... woops.

Read on AO3

Pairing: Jean Otus/Nino Word Count: 8.500 Warnings/Tags: G. Post-canon, sick fic, lotta’s pov, fluff, obvious and oblivious boys. Summary: Lotta loves her brother and his best friend, she just wishes they weren't so oblivious.

Lotta loves Jean, she really does. He’s a good brother, and a hard worker even if he complains about how his transfers never go through. He always brings back presents from the other districts, delicious treats to make up for the time he’s away.

She also loves Nino. He indulges her in exploring bakeries and restaurants and he gave her candy when they first met. He watches out for Jean when Lotta manages to ask him for a favor first.

She loves them both, dearly. If only they weren’t so stupidly oblivious.

Lotta’s making breakfast when Jean stumbles out of his room and into a chair at the kitchen table. Eggs and sausages sizzle in the pan and the toaster is set to go off in another minute.

“Morning,” she calls to him. “Did you sleep well?”

Jean nods but he looks exhausted. He’s been away again for work, ACCA in a bit of a mess after Furawau’s secession, and only returned late last night. At least he has the day off, and even if he didn’t, one call to Owl would make sure he did.

“What do you want to drink?” Lotta asks, moving easily between the stove, toaster, and fridge. She has a system and when the toaster goes off, she is ready with a knife slathered with butter, jam standing by on the side. “I can start a pot of coffee, or we still have some of the tea you got from your last trip.”

“Coffee,” Jean mumbles. He rubs his face and stands up, bracing himself on the kitchen table. “I’ll make it, you want some?”

“Sure, thank you!”

Before long, breakfast is ready and plated. Lotta sips at her coffee and watches Jean eat as he skims the paper. His posture is lax and his eyes are glossy and droopier than usual and she wasn’t blind to the way he stumbled around the kitchen nor deaf to his attempts at covert sniffling.

“Jean, how long have you been sick?” Lotta questions. She sees the moment Jean tries to deny the accusation, but he’s learned in the past few years and only sighs.

“Not long. I think it’s just exhaustion and I should be fine after some rest,” he concedes. “I’ll be good to go back to work tomorrow.”

Lotta isn’t having it. “Well that’s tomorrow. Today, and right after you finish eating, you’re going right back to bed.”

Jean smiles and shakes his head in amusement. “Yes, ma’am.”

He doesn’t manage to finish his plate, barely able to do more than nibble on the toast and sip at his coffee. The eggs and sausages are barely touched. Lotta ushers him back to bed when he can’t make himself eat much more.

“I’ll make some porridge and see if we have any cold meds.” She brushes his hair from his face and worries her bottom lip. “You’re a little warm.”

Taking her hand in his, Jean links their fingers. “I’ll be fine, Lotta. I just need rest. There’s no use in you worrying yourself sick.”

Lotta pouts but she sighs and agrees. “Let me know if you need anything. I’m going to find medicine and make that porridge.”

Or so was the plan, but Lotta discovers that they’re out of any sort of cold medication. Lotta could pop out to grab what she needs but she doesn’t want to leave Jean home alone. He doesn’t fall sick often, but when he does, he falls hard.

“Ah, what to do…”

Her thoughts and contemplation are interrupted, however, by the buzz of a phone, her phone, sitting on the kitchen counter. She picks it up and sees that Nino’s sent her a bunch of photos. They’re all of a cat with gold fur. It’s asleep in the first picture but Nino must have woken it up since he catches the moment it blinks open blue eyes and yawns. Then it looks bored and unimpressed, but in the next picture something out of frame catches its attention. Its head is tilted and its tail is up and looks loose, not tight and puffed out in fear. Its blue eyes are wide and it stands facing Nino head on. In the next photo it’s munching on a small piece of bread, eyes shut in pleasure and Nino’s fingers rubbing its tiny head.

If Jean were a cat is the only accompanying text. It makes Lotta laugh because it’s far too accurate, and then she realizes her current dilemma is easily solved, and she can move on the solution to another one as well.

She calls Nino and he picks up almost immediately.

“Nino! Are you free right now? I need a favor.”

The doorbell rings and Lotta makes sure the chicken and ginger porridge won’t burn while she gets the door. Nino has perfect timing.

“Nino, you’re a lifesaver!” Lotta grins up at the photographer.

“Hi, I got some other things as well,” he says, holding up bags from the pharmacy. “Some energy drinks, pudding, jello. And some fever patches, because you know he runs high whenever he’s sick. They’re also good for headaches. And…what? Why are you looking at me like that.”

Lotta shakes her head, “Nothing! Nothing. You’re a really good friend, Nino.”

“Ah, thank you?” he replies.

“Thank you,” Lotta says. “Oh! Almost forgot about the porridge. I’ll take these, could you go check on Jean for me?” She doesn’t wait for a reply, taking the bags out of Nino’s hand and hurrying back to the kitchen. She quickly checks the porridge before putting away Nino’s shopping, noting he got all of Jean’s favorites, smiling when she hears Nino knock gently on Jean’s door and low murmurs follow.

Lotta’s just finished putting everything away and stirring the porridge when Nino comes out of Jean’s room. “Smells good.”

“I made extra if you want to eat with Jean,” Lotta says. She dips a spoon into the porridge and tastes it before frowning and adding a bit more salt. “It’ll be done in another five minutes. How’s he doing?”

“He’s definitely got a fever and needs a box or two of tissues within reach. If he tries to get out of bed, I’d suggest tying him down, duct taping if you don’t have any rope. There’s not a chance he’s going to be well enough to work tomorrow.”

“I know. The only person Jean is fooling is himself. I was going to call Owl later.”

“Good thinking,” Nino laughs. “You and Owl are the only people he’ll listen to.”

“He listens to you,” Lotta says casually, keeping her smile down when Nino scratches his cheek and looks away.

Nino clears his throat. “That’s debatable. You’re his beloved sister, Owl is like his second father, even if he doesn’t realize it yet.”

“And you are one of the closest people in his life,” Lotta says. “And if you say anything less, you don’t get any porridge. Speaking of, get me two bowls. Oh, and there should be a tray in that cupboard over there.”

Nino does as bid and Lotta ladles porridge into the bowls while Nino fills up a glass of water and grabs the medicine he bought. Lotta puts everything on the tray and hands it off to Nino. “I already ate and have a couple things to do. Take this in and keep Jean company? There’s nothing worse than being sick and having to eat alone.” For good measure, she looks up at Nino with with a slight pouty frown.

Nino takes the tray from her. “As you wish, your highness.”

Lotta lightly smacks Nino’s arm. “Hush. Go feed your prince.” When Nino’s cheeks pink, Lotta has to turn her back on him in a pretense of being busy cleaning up to not give anything away.

She hears him walk away and the low murmurs pick up as he elbows Jean’s door open to walk inside. Lotta can’t help herself, far too curious and very invested. She sneaks over to the door and peeks through the crack. Nino’s got his back to her, bent over Jean’s nightstand to set the tray down. Lotta catches him smack Jean’s hands away with a spoon.

“Food first. And then you get two pills.”

“I’m not hungry,” Jean sulks, and if he’s being so openly pouty he’s definitely running a fever. “I want drugs.”

Nino laughs and Lotta presses her hand to her mouth to keep herself from being noticed. Jean’s turned towards Nino, all of his attention on the blue haired man.

“Just have a few bites. For Lotta, at least.” Nino puts one of the bowls in Jean’s hands and settles on the edge of the bed with the other bowl. “You’re not getting any drugs until at least a quarter of that is in your stomach.”

Jean huffs but he spoons a bite. “Don’t you have work today?”

“Being my own boss means I can take the day off whenever I want,” Nino replies. “Lotta called me and I know how you always overdo it when you’re sick. Lotta will guilt you into resting, but I have no qualms about manhandling you into bed.”

Jean’s flush becomes more pronounced and Lotta sees the moment Nino’s words registered to his own ears. His ears go pink and he freezes, back ramrod straight and tense. Even Lotta feels her cheeks grow warm at the easily misunderstood declaration.

“To force you to rest,” Nino hurriedly tacks on, clearing his throat. “You’ve got at least another day or two of bed rest with the state you’re in.” He swallows down a few bites of porridge while Jean just stirs his. “Your confinement will only be longer if you don’t eat something, Jean. No food, no drugs.”

Jean rolls his eyes. “I forgot how mean you are when I’m sick. Aren’t you supposed to be nicer?”

Lotta wishes she could see Nino’s face when he says, “What? Want me to feed you or something?”

Jean’s however, she sees clearly. Even his fever can’t explain how red he gets in the face, up to his ears, and his jaw drops, eyes wide. But he picks up his jaw by shoving porridge into his mouth and chewing, choking out a, “No.”

Lotta has to back away from the door so her barely restrained laughter doesn’t out her eavesdropping.

Lotta’s trying to work on an assignment for one of her classes on the couch when Nino comes out of Jean’s room.

“Nino!” She hops up, maybe a bit too eagerly. She looks for any sign of, she doesn’t even know what. Just a sign of something. She almost wishes she had continued to eavesdrop at the door.

“Lotta,” Nino returns, brows furrowing in wary confusion.

It’s incredibly hard to control her expression. She nods towards Jean’s bedroom, trying to change the subject. “Did he eat all the porridge?”

Nino gives her a suspicious look but doesn’t press. “Yeah. Once he started, he managed to get it all down. I gave him the pills and he was asleep by the time I finished stacking the bowls. ”

At the mention of bowls, Lotta goes to reach for them. “I can take those.”

Nino lifts the tray out of her reach and walks on to the kitchen. “It’s fine, I got it. What were you working on?”

“Readings for one of my classes.” Though she had kept looking up at Jean’s door and didn’t get much done. She follows Nino to the sink and despite his insistence grabs a bowl he finishes washing and dries it before putting it away.

“You have class tomorrow?”

“Yeah. My first class is at 11 and I’m usually gone through lunch until just before Jean gets home from work. I’ll just make something easy for Jean to grab and eat while I’m gone.”

Nino lingers with the spoons under the faucet. “I can come over again, if you want,” he offers. “I can cook and keep an eye on him, make sure he eats and doesn’t try and go to work while you focus on school.”

“But you’ve got work, don’t you?”

“I have two memory cards of photos to go through and then editing,” Nino says, dryly. “And you guys have a better coffee machine than I do.”

Lotta laughs. “If you don’t mind, that’d be great, Nino.” She wraps her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his chest as she squeezes him tight. “Thank you. I don’t know what Jean I would do without you.”

Nino hugs her back and ruffles her hair. “Don’t know what I’d do without you two, either.”

The next morning, after showering and getting dressed, Lotta checks in on Jean. She finds him out of bed going through his closet. Over his arm is a familiar black and red jacket. He’s reaching for one of his ties when Lotta clears her throat. He freezes and turns to meet her frown.

“I was going to shower?” he says and sniffles.

Lotta stares him down with her hands fisted at her hips until he sheepishly moves away from the ties and puts his jacket back on its hanger.

“I’ll call in sick,” Jean concedes. “But I’m still taking a shower.”

“Nino said he’ll be by in an hour,” she says, satisfied. “Do you want to eat in bed or in the kitchen?”

“Kitchen,” Jean answers. “Am I allowed coffee?”

“If you’re good,” Lotta teases and leaves to start a pot.

When Jean comes out of the shower, he’s dressed in lounge pants and an old shirt that swallows his frame. Lotta rewards him with a steaming mug of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal with chopped strawberries and blueberries. His appetite’s improved and he even asks for some toast and jam as Lotta makes some for herself.

“You know, I don’t need a babysitter,” Jean says once Lotta’s settled at the table, spreading jam on her toast.

“Maybe,” Lotta replies. “But it’s nice to have someone take care of you when you’re not feeling well.”

Jean smiles into his coffee. “Yeah. Nino’s been taking care of us for a long time now.”

“Mhmm.” Lotta peeks up at her brother. “When I was a kid, I thought I wanted to marry him.”

Jean startles, so surprised he starts coughing, and Lotta’s glad she waited until he had swallowed his coffee before throwing that at him. Even though it might be a bit of a test, it was true. She’d thought herself in love with her brother’s best friend who charmed her with candy when they first met and helped them through the loss of their parents while dealing with the loss of his own father. And even knowing the truth of how Nino came into their lives, Lotta is grateful for Nino’s presence. He might have been assigned to watch over them, but it was easy to see that his feelings went far beyond an assignment.

Lotta hands Jean a glass of water and Jean takes a few steady swallows and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He clears his throat. “And, uh, do you still?”

“Oh no.” Lotta is quick to shake her head, laughing. “Not at all. I quickly realized I don’t love him like that. I love him like I love you.” She pauses, looks down, and adds casually, “But I do wonder who Nino would ever get married to. I’ve never even seen him in a relationship before.”

With perfect timing, the doorbell rings. Lotta all but bounces to the door to let Nino in and Jean mull over her words.

Nino’s running a hand through his hair, almost as if he were fixing it, when Lotta swings the door open. In place of his usual camera bag is a laptop bag slung over his shoulder, and he’s got a plastic bag from a nearby convenience store in hand.

“Morning. Jean ate all the jello yesterday so I bought a few more,” he says. “They had a different flavor I thought he might like.”

Lotta just beams at him. “I’m sure he will. He’s in the kitchen finishing up breakfast. There’s extra oatmeal and fruit if you’re hungry.”

“I already ate, but thanks,” Nino says, toeing off his shoes before following Lotta to the kitchen to where Jean waves as Nino approaches.

“Morning.” Nino reaches over and puts the back of his hand against Jean’s forehead. Jean closes his eyes and sighs at the touch. “Your hand’s cold.”

“That’s because you’re burning up. Finish this and back into bed,” Nino tuts.

“Yes, sir,” Jean mocks, but he doesn’t move away from Nino’s hand and Nino lets his hand continue to rest against Jean’s skin.

Lotta hurries to put her back to the two so they don’t see her pleased grin.

When Lotta has to go, Jean’s convinced Nino to let him huddle on the couch with some jello instead of in his bed and Nino’s on the floor in front of him, laptop on the coffee table and the TV turned on to a baking show, the volume low.

She comes back several hours later to playful arguing in the kitchen. Jean’s wrapped up in a blanket at the kitchen table and Nino’s at the stove with his sleeves rolled up, heating up leftovers from their lunch. She’s just in time to be the tie-breaker on the matter of which bakery had the better tomato bread.

Neither boy is even close to being right and when Lotta provides the correct answer, they move to argue but pause, thinking, before admitting that she may be right.

“Of course I am,” she says, before coming around to kiss Jean’s cheek and see what Nino’s cooked because it smells delicious. They eat together, the boys filling Lotta in on what they did and Lotta talking about her classes. There’s laughter and smiles around the table and Nino and Jean keep looking to each other when they think no one else is watching.

Jean seems to be doing better the next day, but he’s still running a fever and overfilling wastebaskets with snot-filled tissues. Lotta’s only class is in the evening but she says she has a group project meeting during the day and Nino offers to come by again. She feels a little bad about lying but it’s for a good cause and is only validated when the doorbell rings and Jean insists on getting the door.

Lotta tiptoes after him and watches on as Nino’s expression softens as he greets Jean and Jean sways into Nino’s touch when Nino checks his temperature with his hand like the day prior. Nino’s face turns pink at Jean’s sigh, his smile soft and affectionate. “You seem better than yesterday.”

“Lotta won’t let me go to work though.”

Nino chuckles and brushes Jean’s hair back. His hand lingers before he takes it back and stuffs it into his pocket. “I said better, not fully recovered. Going to let me in?”

Lotta hurries away to not get caught and greets Nino when he’s passing the living room where she’s finishing up packing her bag for the day.

“What’re you two going to be up to today?” she asks.

“Finish a show we started yesterday?” Jean suggests, looking to Nino who makes no objections. “Will you be home for dinner?”

“I might be a little late, but yes,” Lotta answers. “But you don’t have to wait up for me if you get hungry.”

“I can cook something again. Save some for you when you get home so you don’t have to either,” Nino offers.

Lotta beams. “That would be great, if you don’t mind. We owe you, really.”

Nino shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Now you better get going or you’ll be late.”

Lotta pushes down the touch of guilt that spikes up. She’s just going to be going to a cafe near her school that she’s been wanting to try out with a few friends. But it’s for a good cause. “I’ll see you both tonight, then. Listen to Nino, Jean!”

She closes the door on Nino’s laughter and Jean’s mock-indignant shout that turns into hacking coughs and Nino’s worried alarm.

When Lotta gets home, she walks in on Nino coming out of the kitchen, which isn’t unusual but for the fact that he’s carrying Jean, one arm under Jean’s knees and the other supporting his back. Jean’s asleep, head pillowed against Nino’s chest.

“He fell asleep at the kitchen table,” Nino says quietly. “Just taking him to bed.”

And that’s all fair and innocent. It’s not the first time Lotta’s seen Nino carry Jean, especially after their nights out drinking since Jean’s never been able to hold his liquor well. But Nino’s ears are red and he isn’t meeting Lotta’s gaze, and he’s never carried Jean like this before.

“I’ll get the door,” is all Lotta says and she leads the way to Jean’s room, holding the door as Nino maneuvers through it sideways so Jean’s legs don’t hit the door frame.

Lotta hurries after to pull back Jean’s sheets and Nino gently lays Jean down. They both freeze when Jean grumbles, rolls onto his side facing Nino and grabbing onto Nino’s arm. Nino almost falls on Jean but catches himself against the headboard, braced over Jean who shifts around, ends up hugging Nino’s arm to his chest before he’s finally content and relaxes.

Lotta bites her lip to keep from giggling. Nino looks like he can’t pick between being panicked and thoroughly endeared.

Nino waits a beat before he slowly wiggles his arm free. Jean frowns, whines in the back of his throat but Nino frees himself and Jean doesn’t wake up. Only grumbles before turning over onto his other side and nuzzling into his pillow. He looks upset for a moment before his face smooths out in sleep.

Lotta and Nino quickly and quietly leave Jean to it, Lotta closing the door behind them with a quiet click.

“I’ve never seen him do that,” Lotta says innocently, glancing up at Nino.

Nino scratches the back of his head, his cheeks dusted light pink. “He’s just sick.” He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of the matter. Lotta doesn’t do anything to help.

Day three of Jean’s cold he’s doing a lot better. His coughs aren’t as harsh and his sneezing and sniffling has reduced considerably. He’s still feverish and tired though but will probably be well enough to return to work by tomorrow. Lotta’s somewhat impressed he didn’t fight so much to go to work earlier but she has a feeling she knows the cause.

Nino comes over again in the afternoon with a bag of the best tomato bread in Badon and a sheepish smile. Lotta had only had a morning class and Jean had still been asleep when she got home. There weren’t any plans for Nino to come over and help again, but like with Jean, she isn’t all that surprised.

“How’s Jean?” he asks, following Lotta to the kitchen so she can cut the bread and make some tea to go with it.

“Much better,” she replies. “Oh can you get me a plate? And a small bowl? But yes, his fever’s almost completely gone.”

Nino grabs a large plate and Lotta arranges the sliced bread on it. She goes into the fridge and grabs what she needs to make a quick salsa to go with the bread. Nino helps, getting olive oil and salt and helping her chop the vegetables. They work together and Nino asks about her class that morning and Lotta asks after his work and any upcoming assignments for the newspaper he’s freelancing for.

He’s talking about a work trip he’s going on next month to Dowa and then Suitsu, in the middle of promising to bring back regional specialties, when Jean stumbles into the kitchen. “Lotta, have you seen my—Oh, Nino?”

“Hey, J—!” Nino cuts himself off with a bitten back curse. Metal clatters and alarm blooms on Jean’s face.

Alarmed, Lotta turns to check on Nino and the first thing she sees is blood. It’s all over Nino’s fingers, the cutting board, and the cilantro he’d been chopping. She quickly ushers him to the sink and tells Jean to go and get their first aid kit. Luckily, the blood had made the cut look worse than it actually was and doesn’t look like a trip to the emergency room.

“Hold this to the cut,” Lotta says, handing Nino a paper towel. She has him sit at the kitchen table just as Jean returns with the first aid kit.

“Here.” Jean sets the kit on the table and opens it up. He takes out the packet of antiseptic wipes and a box of waterproof bandages, pulling out a strip and removing the wrapping.

“You’re sick, why are you running around with wet hair and no shirt?” Nino doesn’t look at Jean.

“I was looking for the flannel shirt you got me a few birthdays ago.”

Lotta knows exactly which shirt Jean’s talking about. It’s the softest thing he owns because of how often he wears it. It’s about two and a half sizes too big and always sliding off one of his shoulders. Nino’d offered to exchange it for a size that fits but Jean said he was happy with it as is. And he has been. He’ll always wear it when he’s not feeling well or wants to have a comfy, lazy day. Lotta’s also noticed he tends to pull it out when Nino’s away for work and they don’t see him for a while. She’s not sure Jean’s aware of that particular habit.

“It’s in the dryer, I haven’t had a chance to fold up the laundry yet. Take care of Nino, I’ll go find it.”

Jean’s in the middle of saying no but Lotta’s already up and heading to their laundry closet, leaving Nino with Jean. She finds the shirt quickly, shaking out the wrinkles, before returning to the kitchen. She hides for a moment at the corner before revealing herself.

Jean’s taken her seat and is in the middle of applying a bandage to Nino’s finger. Nino’s looking everywhere but at Jean, or at least trying to. His flushed face is angled to the side but his eyes keep drifting back to Jean bent over carefully applying the bandage.

“There.” Jean sits up and Nino takes his hand back.

“It’s really not a big deal, I could have taken care of it myself,” Nino says. “Seriously, where’s your towel, you need to dry your hair. And put on a shirt.” There’s a hidden please, tense, just shy of desperate.

Lotta makes her appearance then, brandishing Jean’s shirt. “Found it. Here. And Nino’s right, you should to dry your hair. It’s still dripping, Jean.”

“Okay, okay.” Jean takes the shirt. “I left my towel in the bathroom.” He heads back to his room while tugging the shirt on.

Lotta and Nino share a fond, commiserating look at Jean’s behaviour. There’s no one else he’d behave spoiled and childish in front of, whether he was sick or not.

While Jean dressed and dried his hair, Lotta returns to the almost finished salsa. She cleans up the bloodied cilantro, staring Nino back into sitting when he tries to get up and help. They still have plenty of the herb left and Lotta quickly chops enough to finish up the salsa, adding a squeeze of lemon as a finishing touch.

Jean returns with his shirt buttoned up but the neckline hangs low on his sternum and the sleeves inch just past his fingertips. His towel is hanging around his shoulders and while his hair looks more ruffled than it had been, it’s still visibly damp.

“Oh come here,” Nino says. He pulls the towel from Jean’s shoulders and shepherds him to a chair, sitting him down and standing behind him. He drops the towel on Jean’s head and starts properly drying his hair.

“I’m sick, not a child,” Jean grumbles, but he laughs and he tilts his head to make it easier for Nino and Nino’s got a smile of his own. Lotta finishes the salsa and heats slices of the tomato bread for a few seconds on the stove, just to lightly toast them before setting them on a large plate around the bowl of salsa.

Nino’s done with Jean’s hair when she sets the snack on the table. “There we go. Oh, what do you boys want to drink?”

“Sit down, Lotta,” Nino says. “I can make a pot of tea for all of us.” Lotta goes to argue, but Nino folds Jean’s towel over the back of Jean’s chair and rounds the table to gently guide Lotta into a chair, his hands on her shoulders. “I cut my finger, barely. Just, relax.” He goes to fill up the kettle and pull out three mismatched mugs, Lotta’s favorite, Jean’s favorite, and the one the Otuses bought specifically for Nino. “How’s that project going?”

“Oh, uh, good.” The question catches her off-guard, takes her a moment to remember the little lie from earlier. She busies herself from the lie by helping herself to bread and salsa. “We’re pretty much done.”

Jean’s watching her from across the table, a brow slightly raised. “What’s it about again?”

“Just something for my poli-sci class.” Lotta takes a large bite of bread so she can’t talk anymore. Jean’s eyes narrow slightly and Lotta widens hers innocently.

When Nino joins them, tea brewed and made to each person’s liking, he looks between the two siblings. “Did I miss something?”

“Just the bread. Told you it’s the best tomato bread in the city,” Lotta chirps. She doesn’t respond to Jean’s suspicious look over his mug.

With the exception of a few sniffles and the odd cough, Jean makes a full recovery and is back to work by the end of the week. He could have used up another sick day and just gone back in on Monday, none of his coworkers or Owl would mind and in fact encourage it, but as much as Jean complains of his transfers never going through, he’s got his fair share of workaholic tendencies.

Lotta’s preparing dinner when Jean gets home.

“Hey! Wash up and help me with dinner. I’m making pasta.”

“Hey, yeah, give me a minute,” Jean replies. His gaze drifts around the apartment, looking for someone, and Lotta can tell it’s an unconscious action. She doesn’t say anything until Jean’s swapped his uniform for comfy pajamas and is by her side grilling chicken.

“Got used to having Nino around,” she says idly. “Reminded me of the past.” Even though she has ulterior motives, it’s an honest comment. Nino and Jean were attached at the hip when they were in high school and even through college despite their different departments. Granted, Nino had an agenda, but the relationship he forged with her and Jean and even their parents was authentic.

Jean laughs. “If Nino wasn’t over, I’d be at his.”

“And he always brought me treats or sent you back home with them.”

Jean hip checks her gently. “So easily bribed by baked goods and sweets.”

Lotta checks him back. “At least I get something in exchange. Nino just has to smile at you and you’ll do whatever he says.”

It may have been too direct, but Jean flusters and nearly flings a piece of chicken breast into the wall. He composes himself, or at least tries to. “That’s—he’s my best friend.”

Lotta could continue to press, but fast-tracking a decade of mutual pining and obliviousness is a delicate matter and she can’t push too much too quickly. “We should do something to thank him, though, for helping out this past week.”

“You know Nino’ll brush any thanks off.”

“Yes, but we could treat him to dinner or something. It’s been a while since we all went out for a nice meal anyway.”

She can tell Jean’s considering it, more than considering it. His hesitation is from trying not to seem too eager, but his unconscious smile and excited energy betray him.

“True.” His lips purse in thought before he seems to recall something. “He mentioned a hotpot place near the park he wants to try. Early dinner on Sunday?”

“We haven’t had hotpot in forever! I’ll invite him.”

“No!” Jean rushes. His ears warm as he collects himself, “I mean, I can tell him. I was the one he, and you, had to deal with. Let me handle everything.”

Lotta bites back her grin. “If you insist. Why don’t you call him now? I can finish up here.”

Jean hesitates for a moment but hands over the spatula and goes off to get his phone. Lotta lowers the heat to medium and keeps her ears open when Jean’s call connects. She stifles a laugh when Jean’s voice cracks at his first attempt at hello.

“No, I’m fine,” he says after a pause. Lotta can imagine him rolling his eyes by his tone. He clears his throat. “Actually, I was, uh, well, Lotta and I were wondering if you were free Sunday night, say six? It’s been a while since we went out to eat together and you said you wanted to try that hotpot place. Yes, I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t want to thank you anyway. Let me—us—treat you to dinner.”

It’s almost painful listening to Jean stumble and stutter and correct himself while doing something he’s obliviously done for years, but all Lotta wants is to hear Nino’s side of the conversation. She can imagine he’s doing no better than her brother.

“We’re treating you, Nino, whether you like it not.” After a pause, Jean’s voice softens. “Yeah, see you Sunday.”

Lotta and Jean walk up to the hotpot place to find Nino already there by the entrance. He’s in his usual turtleneck and jeans, but his combat boots have been swapped out for shiny leather loafers and he’s thrown on a fitted blazer. And he’s not alone. There are two girls giggling around him. Nino doesn’t seem as interested in whatever their conversation keeps glancing at his phone. Jean starts slowing down.

Lotta is not about to have silly misunderstandings detract or even slow down her progress with the two boys, especially when they’ve been doing so well. Jumping up and waving, she calls out, “Nino!” and hurries over. Nino’s face lightens in a sincere smile and he excuses himself from the girls.

Lotta runs into Nino with a full bodied hug, wrapping her arms around Nino’s waist. She peeks around him to the girls who are looking on in disappointment and barely holds back from sticking her tongue out at them as they turn around and walk away. She looks back up at Nino. “Did you wait long?” They aren’t late, but they’re not early like they usually plan to be. Jean had a crisis over what shirt to wear, though he won’t admit it. But the shirt Lotta helped him pick brings out his eyes and accentuate his waist and Nino’s eyes are fixed on him.

“Just got here myself,” Nino says almost absently. Lotta pulls out of the hug and waits for Jean to catch up to them. When he does, the two just stare at each other after saying quiet ‘hi’s like they’re high schoolers on their first date. Lotta considers pretending to have an emergency and have to leave the two alone for dinner. But they’ll have plenty of time for dates without a little sister third-wheeling in the future. Besides, she read the reviews for the restaurant and had been looking forward to trying several dishes all weekend.

“I’m starving,” she chirps, jarring the two out of their little world. “Let’s go in? I looked them up and they have rolled ice cream.”

The two laugh at that, Nino ruffling Lotta’s hair. “That’s how I heard about this place. A client recommended the matcha.”

“Let’s have dinner before we start thinking about dessert,” Jean says. He leads the way into the restaurant while Lotta shares a knowing look with Nino. They never leave without ordering dessert, even if they have to take it home for later.

They get a booth against the wall, glossy black with cushioned benches. Nino takes a seat on one side, Jean slides into the other, and Lotta beside Jean. Nino tries to keep his orders simple and towards the cheaper end but Jean orders all of Nino’s favorites for him, Nino glaring from across the table and Lotta laughing at their antics. They end up with a spread that’s more than enough for three, maybe even four. Nino takes charge of cooking until both Lotta and Jean bat his chopsticks away and Jean threatens to confiscate Lotta’s to preside as designated hotpot cook.

At first, there’s visible awkwardness between Nino and Jean, the two taking turns at being flustered and sneaking glances when the other isn’t looking. It’s adorable if ridiculous. But eventually, conversation flows smoothly as they argue over when a vegetable or meat is done and Jean forgetting to give himself food once it’s ready. Jean gripes about trips, talks fondly about the new addition to his team even though the new kid makes Jean feel like he’s a hundred years old.

“Imagine that,” Nino says with wry grin.

Jean kicks him gently under the table. “You could pass for being younger than me.”

Nino laughs like it’s a joke, but Jean’s right. Ever since he revealed the truth, he’s stopped hiding the signs of his age but Lotta still thinks he looks of an age with Jean, and not nearly a decade older. He’d looked closer in age to Lotta when he spiked his hair and hid the creases around his eyes. Even the bits of silver coming into his hair didn’t age him much. Jean’s grays were just better hidden in his blond hair.

They steadily eat and soon there’s nothing but the broth left. Nino finishes his glass of water and wipes his mouth with his napkin. “That was great. Thank you both.”

“This was our thank you,” Jean says, “So no thank yous from you tonight.”

Nino rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling wide enough his crows feet he’d worn glasses to hide make an appearance.

Lotta leans back and sighs happily. “I’m so full. One of you will have to carry me home.”

“Too full for dessert?” Jean teases. But when he flags down their waiter to ask for their bill, he asks for three orders of their rolled ice cream to-go.

When they step outside, Nino walks with them to the curb to flag down a cab. They catch one fairly quickly, it was still early enough in the night on a Sunday, and Jean slides in first, Lotta right behind him.

“What’re you doing, get in,” Lotta says when Nino bends into the open door and tries to say goodnight. She lightly shakes their bag of take out. “We’ve got ice cream to eat.”

Nino seems to hesitate but he looks past Lotta’s shoulder and his mouth quirks into a reluctant smile before he gets in and closes the door behind him. Lotta looks up and catches Jean’s expression in the rear view mirror, a pleased little grin, as he tells the driver their address.

When they get home, they make their way to the living room to enjoy their dessert. Lotta hands out the three plastic boxes—strawberry for Jean, chocolate for Nino, and matcha for herself—and the packed plastic spoons and get settled along the couch. Lotta takes the corner and grabs the TV remote. She puts on an episode from a food documentary series she’s been watching after Jean and Nino say they’re fine with anything and gets comfortable.

The three watch the episode, which takes place in Rokkusu, and eat their dessert in a comfortable, cozy silence with occasional commentary on something the show covers. Nino recognizes an area in one of the b-roll footage from a freelance job a while ago and Jean asks someone to remind him to check out one of the places the show mentions the next time he’s in the state for work.

They lose track of time, or at least Jean and Nino do, ending up more invested in the series than Lotta, her scheming aside. Ice cream long finished, empty containers left to be dealt with later on the coffee table, the two had sunk into the couch, and, as time went on, seemed to drift towards one another. Nino’s arm is stretched along the back of the couch, a hair’s breath from Jean’s neck and Jean’s drawn his legs up, knees directing his body towards the photographer. Neither seem to notice the way the space between them has been gradually diminishing. Lotta almost doesn’t want to disrupt the moment, but it is a Sunday night. Besides, there’ll be more nights.

About a quarter of the way through a third episode, Lotta yawns and stretches, and makes startled noise when she makes a point to check the clock on the wall. “I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.”

Nino looks up. “Oh wow. You’re right. I should get going.” He sits up and pulls away from Jean, starting to clean up.

But Jean stops him, reaching out and catching Nino’s arm. “It’ll be even later by the time you get back to your place,” he says. “Stay the night.”

Nino starts to shake his head. His eyes flash down to Jean’s hand curled around his bicep and he wavers.

Lotta goes for the second of weakness. “You’d have to wait for a cab and everything. Here. I’ll take care of that. Jean, get the blankets and prepare the couch and find something for Nino to sleep in.”

Before either can say another word, Lotta sweeps up the take-out containers to dispose of them in the kitchen. When she walks by the living room on her way to her room, Jean’s got an armful of blankets and Nino’s arranging pillows and cushions. She hides around the corner, just to observe.

Jean drops the collection of blankets on the coffee table, says, “I can sort this. Grab something of mine and take my bed tonight.”

“I’m perfectly fine with the couch.”

“It’s not good for your back,” Jean counters.

“Couch isn’t any good for your back either.”

“But you’re much older than me, remember,” Jean teases. Nino throws the pillow he’s holding at Jean, who catches it just before it hits him in the face. He’s grinning as he lowers it and hugs it to his chest. “But really. We dragged you out and brought you here.”

Nino walks over and reaches for the pillow. “I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to,” he says softly, Lotta almost can’t make out the words. Louder, her says, “Now give me that. One night on the couch won’t kill me. Besides, your couch is comfortable.”

Feeling guilty, like she’s intruding (she’s aware she’s being nosy and spying already) Lotta quietly makes her way to her room to get ready for bed.

An hour or so before her alarm is set to go off, Lotta wakes up, thirsty. She considers just going back to sleep but gets up and shuffles out of her room to go grab a glass of water from the kitchen. All the lights are off, only the faint glow of the sun rising bleeding through the drawn curtains lighting the apartment. She gets her water and makes to head back to her room to read for a bit before getting ready for the day, makes a slight detour to check in on whoever ended up taking the couch for the night.

She’s careful to tiptoe as she nears the living room but notices a distinct lack of blankets and middle-aged man on the couch. The bathroom door is cracked open, lights off, unoccupied. Frowning, she detours to the front door but all shoes are accounted for, Nino’s loafers lined up neatly next to Jean’s.

Confused, she walks back to her room. The boys will turn up for breakfast. As she passes by Jean’s door, it quietly swings open and Jean comes out, already dressed for work, coat folded over his arm. His eyes widen at seeing Lotta and he closes the door quietly behind him. “Morning,” he whispers. “You’re up early.”

Lotta shakes her glass of water, matches his quiet tone. “Thirsty.” She doesn’t point out that he’s up and dressed earlier than usual as well. “Where’s Nino?”

To Lotta’s surprise, Jean’s ears turn bright red and he glances off to the side. “He’s, uh. We argued about who would take the couch last night. Comprised and shared my bed.” He adds, almost a little defensively, “It’s big enough. He’s using my bathroom.”

Lotta does her absolute best not to betray her thoughts on her face. Jean’s bed is big enough for two, but only just. Especially when the two people are men over 180cm. “I was thinking pancakes for breakfast? We have chocolate chips, I think. I just need to wash up.”

Jean seems relieved that Lotta doesn’t comment on what he’d revealed. “ I got it, you go get ready for the day.”

“Okay, thanks. Start some coffee too, please?”

Jean nods with a smile and ruffles her hair before heading off to make breakfast for everyone. When Lotta’s done getting ready, she comes back into the kitchen to Jean pouring pancake batter into a pan and Nino nursing a mug of coffee at Jean’s side, looking down at her brother with the softest, fondest expression as Jean talks too quietly for Lotta to make out the words.

She quietly tiptoes back to her room. She can take a little longer to get ready.

The next week or so go by with nothing too unusual. Jean ends up appointed to staff a recruitment table at a local high schools’ career fairs for the next week or so with the new kid and ends up coming home earlier than usual. Nino’s out of town for a job and swinging by Jumoku to get some photos of a local festival that will coincide with his travels. And Lotta prepares for her upcoming exams. She spends more time at school or the library, her food science class has a standing study group session twice a week before the final, coming home late enough that Jean’s taken charge of meals so Lotta can focus on school.

After the last study session that had ended up running later than usual since they all decided to treat themselves to dessert crepes as a reward for all their studying, Lotta cheerfully makes her way home. She can’t wait to tell Jean about the food truck, knowing he’d love the strawberry cream with lemon drizzle option and Nino the double chocolate brownie.

“I’m home!” Lotta calls out, closing the door. She toes off her shoes and puts them away, noticing a familiar pair of boots. “Nino, I didn’t know you—!”

Clapping both her hands to her mouth, Lotta stares at the scene in the living room, lit by the soft golden late-afternoon sun, doing her best not to make any further noise.

Cuddled up together on the couch are Jean and Nino, fast asleep. Jean’s wrapped up in his favorite blanket and curled up against Nino, using Nino’s shoulder as a pillow. Nino’s got his arm around Jean, his cheek resting against Jean’s head, his breath gently fluttering Jean’s hair with each exhale. In the late afternoon glow, they look soft and peaceful and Lotta’s grateful she didn’t accidentally wake them up.

She means to quietly leave, go back out and kill some time at the bakery or a cafe. Let the two continue their nap, wake up without interruption, have some time to themselves. Knowing Jean, knowing the both of them, really, if Lotta were home, any further progress would be halted if not undone.

But the scene is too sweet to not capture for the future.

Doing her best to be as quiet as possible, Lotta digs out her phone from her bag, wincing at every little sound that seems to echo ten times louder than usually. She quickly pulls up her camera app and lines up the shot, zooming in to frame the two men perfectly. She takes the photo and freezes in horror when she realizes she forgot to make sure her phone was on silent as the shutter sounds.

For a long second, Lotta holds her breath. Jean’s forehead creases in a frown. His nose scrunches up. But he turns his head, snuggles further into Nino’s and his expression smooths as he lets out a light snore and his chest rises and falls in slow, even breaths. Lotta closes her eyes, breathes a sigh of relief.

When she opens them, she meets Nino’s gaze.

Lotta fumbles her phone but just manages to catch it and hug it to her chest. Nino’s lips quirk into a held back laugh. In his arms, Jean shifts and mutters a quiet groan. To Lotta astonishment, Nino murmurs to her brother, words too quiet for her to make out, and lifts the arm that’s around Jean’s shoulders to stroke Jean’s hair. Jean smiles, mumbles something back but it must get lost in Nino’s shirt. When he’s settled again, Lotta’s heart is full and she can’t help her smile even if she wanted to. Nino looks up at her and there’s a light flush on his cheeks. He brings his other hand up, holds his index finger to his mouth. Lotta returns the gesture, grinning wide, and tiptoes back to the door.

Lotta is all smiles when she goes to her favorite cafe. She just shakes her head, lips sealed, when asked if anything happened by the familiar cashier. She orders a slice of her favorite cake and drink and fights the urge to text her grandfather, Owl, and Maggie. She can’t wait for Jean to tell her. Wonders if Nino will tell him Lotta saw them.

Almost an hour later, she gets a text from Nino asking if she would be fine with curry for dinner. He was spending the night and wanted to cook for them.

Lotta is more than happy with curry, and tells him so. She also says she’ll bring dessert. When asking for her check she asks for a to-go order of one of their small chocolate cakes that’s easily shared between three people, though Nino could polish off more than half on his own if he let himself.

Looking forward to it. See you soon, he replies. He also asks if she can send him a copy of the picture she took.

Nope! she replies, without any explanations. She’s already decided to get the photo printed and framed as part of her engagement gift to them. Hopefully that doesn’t take another fifteen odd years.

#ninojean #acca 13 #ACCA 13-Ku Kansatsu-Ka #nino #jean otus #lotta otus #my writing #tumblr fic

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roswellroamer · 5 years

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Day 22. February 20, 2020. Kaikōura to Akaroa to Leithfield. 410km. 4932km total = 3065 miles.

Today the clouds were back but no rain was in the forecast so we went down the hill into town and I ordered a cappuccino and a lemon blueberry muffin to start the day at Pot Belly bakery. We chatted a little back at the hotel with a crew of 6 Harley folks from Wellington on 3 bikes. They were planning a New Orleans to Vero ride in October so we made a few suggestions. Made friends with a gigantic tame rabbit at the hotel before riding out around 9. It was a straight shot down the coast about 4 hours on the main Hwy 1 (I-95 equivalent) but this main artery has lots of construction, flag men stops, cattle on the road! Even in Christchurch there are red lights and lots of traffic circles. We had heard about the beauty of the Akaroa peninsula just SE of CHC and though it made for a big day, we rode through wine country and lots of farmland to slip into moderate traffic through CHC. Hard to believe this is the last day! As we venture onto the peninsula the road empties and we are chasing the sunshine. Cloudy until arriving here, the sun and colors emboldened by its rays lit up our windy curves along the coast. Apparently cruise ships pull into Akaroa for the views and beauty. A couple more construction zones and a nice flag man who let us roar up the hillside to catch up with the recently dismissed line of waiting cars and trucks. The last 10kms toward Akaroa scales the scenic mountains as we intersected with the well known Summit Rd. Unfortunately this road took us to the eastern bays of the peninsula in the opposite direction from where we needed to return our bikes back in Leithfield. As it was, our expected return was around 3PM today and we didn't have time to explore Summit Rd. today. We were literally arrested by the view as we rounded the corner and saw the view at Hilltop Tavern. We pulled in as if ensnared and parked by another biker who was equally spellbound. Top pic above. We lounged and I enjoyed a salmon pizza (pic) and a Coke but mostly the view which is saying something because the pizza was excellent! A fairly tame sheep made laps along the fence line on 6" of flattened earth munching the numerous tufts of grass and enjoying the occasional scratching by diners. Opportunistic sparrows awaited your lack of attention to claim any unattended food. It was around 68° and just a great way to wrap up the ride.

The cruise back to Leithfield was smooth, in and out of the traffic circles as the reality of the trip's end hits. What an adventure. What a beautiful country. Easy to enjoy, geared for tourism, US dollar is strong here but sort of a long ride to get here. Worth it if you can make it happen! No problems checking in the bike and Kiwi (Carrie) was kind enough to again ferry us back to town, this time to the brand new Novotel at the airport. It wasn't even open when I booked it 5 months ago. It is a primo Novotel. We drove past the US Antarctic center where most all flights to and from our base originate. Carrie said she thought it was actually considered US soil, a la Normandy. There were 4 USAF C-130 aircraft with their newfangled curves props on the tarmac and some other jet. We also enjoyed riding there with our new Norwegian friend Per, who returned his bike and was also booked at the appropriately named Novotel. My room was so nice. Soundproof glass in a corner with views on two sides and seriously less than 200 yards to both the control tower and the Emirates A380 loading up with passengers. I went to the airport to do a little shopping since I didn't think they would be open at 4AM the next morning (wrong). Went back and met Ted and Per at the bar to enjoy the view and watch the world's largest commercial aircraft lumber down the strip and lift off surprisingly quickly. Felt like a little kid. ✈️ 😳 A spectacular dinner for me included dumplings followed by rack of lamb, garlic mashed, Caesar salad. Really a great last dinner in this fine land weirdly punctuated by the unexplained disappearance of our server, Imogen. Halfway through the meal we noticed she wasn't around. After a bit we asked other servers to have her come by, only to be met with shrugs that they didn't know where she had gone. Never found while we were there! 🤷‍♂️ A relatively early night since alarms were set for 3:30. Wrapping this now at the airport all checked in waiting for first leg to Sydney. Then on to LA, somehow landing before I left due to the date line weirdness and then on home to ATL. Glad to be done writing, what a commitment from folks who do it daily but also glad to have followed through and captured just some of the events, feelings and silly things from this journey. Great place to ride! Peace, out. ✌️ 🏍 🇳🇿 🇺🇸

PS. Back in ATL now. Though 30 hours of traveling couldn't have gone smoother. If you are one of the folks reading this along the way. Thanks for making the time to share my NZ adventure with me as it unfolded. Comfort class with an extra seat made a nice difference on the 13 hour leg from SYD to LAX. Flew right over the harbor and got good shots of town and the opera house. Nice to be home, too. Until the next adventure. ... 🇳🇴

#newzealand #akaroa #advrider #motoadventure

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funkywerks · 5 years

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Things I Know About Airplanes Part 1:

First things first !

There are just some things you cannot control. So let go of that perfect travel itinerary. Air travel is made possible by so many factors its impossible that on everyday in every way everything goes perfect !

Is air travel safe ? Absolutely. Is airtravel convenient? HELL YAH. Is airtravel fun, cheap or relaxing? Go fish . So remember unless you want to swim , walk , or drive to your destination This airplane business is overall pretty cool.

I would have titled this post “ tips to make you a better traveler” , but that would mean that I deem myself queen supreme of all sky travel ever.

( and there is nothing that grinds my gears like a couple people calling themselves world travelers after their cruise to Cabo on spring break ). So this is just based on what I know as a flight attendant .

the plane will ( and I cannot stress this enough ) NOT , wait for you.

- SORRY !!!!! If you’re late the plane will not wait for you. If you miss your connection the plane will not wait for you. Let go. Stop stressing. I know this is a hard pill to swallow. You got this. Stop yelling at airport or airline staff because no matter what we do ( NO MATTER WHAT WE DO aka WE CANT DO ANYTHING) if we are delayed aka late or if you are late, Your plane is gone. THE PLANE WILL LEAVE AT THE TIME IT SAID IT WOULD. Much like you committed to being there at that time. I don’t make the rules. The rules pay me to be at work on time & here I am.

Why can’t the plane wait for you?

The world doesn’t revolve around you. How many more delays would you have caused if every time you were late for a connection or a flight , if it waited only for you. Just you. Did you ever think about the other 200 people trying to get to their connections. & maybe you haven’t thought of anyone else. BUT TODAY IS THE DAY YOU START. If you really wanna brain storm you can also think about the flight that needs your aircraft after you THOSE PEOPLE TOO . So just think about others. Bad weather ? Can’t go . Broken airplane ? Good thing we have awesome pilots and mechanics that can detect such dangers. No airplane ? Come on! you’re smarter than this. Stop being upset about it. Nothing you can do. Rebook your flight. Sleep in the airport if you have too or buy a hotel if you REALLY have to. Swallow your pride. You can travel across the country in less than 5 hours in a supersonic tin that sometimes has WiFi and movies ( more about that later ). Life is good.

Tip from a flight attendant, my personal fav , I swear by it:

Book the earliest flight you can. Like 5 am early!!!!! You are less likely to be delayed in the morning. There is less air traffic and the airplanes come from the hangers after being serviced overnight. If anything goes wrong you have time for a back up plan. Not being a “morning person “ is a lame excuse for an adult human these days . ok .

I’m honestly not sure if I’m giving airplane advice or just life advice at this point tbh. Moving on !!!!

2. Headphones and other things you forgot to pack.

Ok so. I’m for sure not about to tell you how to pack the perfect carry on because there is no such thing ( don’t let any YouTuber tell you so ) But I can tell you about the common items that people forget to bring with them on airplanes

( based on multiple true stories )

- headphoneS / MULTIPLE PAIRS / meaning the ones for your phone ( Bluetooth or lighting port AND the old regular ones ) if the airplane gods smile upon you the day of your flight , you might have inflight entertainment WOW free movies in your seat back! that’s insane right . ( especially since you’re paying for transportation and not to be entertained ) but if you forget the regular headphones, you can’t watch them ! I always also download other movies to my phone or tablet as well just Incase.

- A blanket or jacket. It’s true ! Breaking news ! not all airplanes supply blankets. Flight attendants get asked all day long multiple times if we have “ any extra blankets , it’s so cold in here “ so. Wear a jacket & closed toed shoes ?. Flight attendants have minimal control over the temperatures. Why did you wear shorts and sandals? YOU KNOW AIRPLANES GET COLD. Just like movie theaters are cold. You never ask someone at the concession stand to warm up your theater. This isn’t a house it’s an airplane. My airplane outfit is always nice jeans, plain tee, socks , vans and a jacket. Always. I will swear by it, I’m always the right temperature.

- Portable charger bank. This ones lame and I hate it. Not all airplanes have charging outlets. And it sucks I know. I work there. Can you imagine walking into work and there being no outlets. Well I feel your pain on this one. All of the airplanes are random. Some airbus models have screens and WiFi and chargers. And some have none. Luck of the draw. If you cannot find the charger in your immediate area. A flight attendant cannot make one for you. Be smart ! bring a portable charger bank. If the airplane is and old Boeing 767 ( super random plane we use for some Europe routes and select domestic ) it has cigarette lighter chargers ( like in old cars ) in some rows **** . Just bring a portable charger and avoid landing in a foreign country without access to information. Save yourself.

- SNACKS why do so many people overlook the importance of the airplane snack. Unless your flight is over 3 hours food will not even be available for purchase. And over 3 hours the food is expensive and mediocre. Complimentary meals are only served on long haul international or routes Jfk - SFO JFK - LAx and JFK - San ( direct ) . So airplane snacks are important. I usually get 2 choices . Something to munch on while watching my movie and one snack that actually is a meal. For example : I bring sunflower seeds and a Pb and j. Or if I’m feeling extra !!! : a quick bacon egg and cheese from the airport Starbucks, large venti ice coffee and Chex mix. You get the idea. It’s an airplane not a kitchen. It’s like a sky bodega. Don’t be unhappy. bring your own stuff. Especially if you’re vegan, or allergic to everything. PLEASE I BEG YOU! DONT BE THE FITNESS GURU WHO NEEDS MORE GRASS FED PROTEIN AT 38000 FEET. ( actually happened to me ) oh also people say that airplane coffee isn’t safe? Because of the water tanks. The Jury is still out on that: I will be your personal lab rat , I drink multiple cups of airplane coffee in one sitting. Make your assumptions and opinions. I will stay warm and caffeinated.

3. Hacks and tricks . Ok so we’re getting to the good stuff. I’m about to tell you the easiest way to be offered a free drink , snack , or in general special treatment on the airplane. Are you ready !? BE SUPER NICE AND PERSONABLE. Ok not exactly rocket science but seriously the SECOND you mumble under your breath, say something rude, get an attitude, look unsettled, or be annoying in the galley. You might as well kiss your chances of getting any special treatment goodbye. ( one person does something , the entire crew knows about it. rude passengers will not be rewarded . Being rude to airline staff never works . I’ve never seen it work) airline staff will most of the time reward good behavior. Wow are we back in pre-k? Or what. Ok now something more tangible . -BRING THE FLIGHT STAFF SMALL GIFTS. Most airplanes have 4 flight attendants on board. International has 12. If you walk on board and say “ hi I’m ______ seated in 23a ( whatever your seat may be ) I brought these for the flight attendants” almost 10/10 times we love it and tell the whole crew to take care of that person specifically. This is important : *You will probably have a flight attendant ask you “ thank you for the gift. do you need anything ? “* and that is your go to time !!!! That’s your time to shine !!!!!! If you want a free drink or snack !!!! Ask now!!!!!!!!!!! This is a real thing and it really works. Small gifts include : individually rapped candies, hand sanitizer, a pack of pens, any kind of snacks at all , a 4 pack of Red Bull/espresso 4 little bags of mnms,donuts or munchkins from Dunkin’ Donuts. Honestly it doesn’t have to be big or expensive! If you show up to your flight on time AND you’re nice to the flight attendants. Just wow . Doing better than 99% of anyone else on airplanes. Go you . If you are a high maintenance flyer this is your go to move to get on the good side of everyone on the crew. Or buy a first class seat ok ? A smile and some donuts go a long way. DO YOU WANT FREE WIFI ? Me too but unfortunately most of the time the WiFi is expensive and not at all free . BUT after take off if you connect to WiFi and the WiFi connection is sourced by the company “gogoinflight” ( you’ll know cause that’s what it’s called in your settings when you connect to WiFi ) I do have a trick. Gogoinflight is a company that sources WiFi for major airlines, if you have T-Mobile ( or if you know someone with a T-Mobile phone number *****) you can enter your phone number and boom free WiFi for an hour. FREE BEER AND WINE - actually free - on international routes ( not Caribbean) don’t be a jerk ! It’s an airplane not a bar. You’re an adult you know you can’t act drunk on airplanes. It’s actually VERY frowned upon and personal CAN call security on you. If you can’t drink 2 glasses of wine on the ground without dancing on the table , you can’t on the airplane. Oh and TRUST me I’ve seen the light while yaking in the airplane bathroom and THAT MY FRIEND!!!! will not be my final destination!!!

#Travel #Flight #flight attendant #Tips #Airplanes #Things I know about airplanes #aviation

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bolbianddolanhouse · 5 years

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BNHA self insert AU

rNani the heck is this? Read here!

Chapter 28: Finally! Some Good Fucking Food!

It’s a month into the second term and a whole lot of technical things were studied. That all changes when the second wave of villain attacks affect the school.

-Intel dorms, Saturday evening-

“I’m getting real fed up with these hero kids fucking everything up!” huffed Mimi as she threw herself on the common room rug “we can’t do shit on this fine Saturday night!”

“It’s not that bad” Hansai raised his voice from the kitchen “we can still turn up in our dorms!” he opened the booze cupboard but was greeted by Jin holding a paintball gun.

“Not so fast bucko!” Jin cried out as he cocked the gun “we gotta ration the booze! It’s only been 3 days since the word on the house arrest for all dorms” he hops out the cupboard “think this through! If we drink all the booze now, how are we going to get more if our rules don’t change?” he turns to the others “we all have to wait it out until we get house arrest lifted on all intel.”

“I hate that you’re right on this one” I groan from the couch “we don’t have a choice, its operation: Sober Waiting Game” I lazily levitate myself to the window and see the security robots on high alert patrol “stupid hero program and their public displays of quirks! Yall aint shit!” I shake my fist at whoever was peering through the other dorm’s window.

Meanwhile, at the hero dorms

“Hey I think the intel kids are mad at us” Kaminari said as he was looking out the window.

“How do you know?” asked Shinso as he walked up to the window.

Kaminari points to the second floor window to see Palma-san shaking her fist at them “I’m 90 percent sure that’s Palma-san cursing us out.”

“It was uncalled for that the school put them on the same house arrest” Uraraka meekly said as she walked up to the window to see “none of them were involved.”

Shinso gets sees an opportunity to get closer to Palma-san “Well in whatever case, I’ll be in my room” he turns to leave the commons room “don’t disturb me.”

Everyone that was in the commons room see him walk in his room and looked at each other in confusion as he never said anything like that before. But they shrugged it off and didn’t question it further.

Shinso:[Hey, how are you holding up on your end?]

Palma:[Not the best, we’re bored]

Shinso:[Wanna come over to my room? Just us?]

He didn’t have to wait for a text back, she teleported in with a beanbag and a bag of hot cheetos.

“Sup” she uttered as she crunched on a cheeto “hope you don’t mind my beanbag chair, didn’t have the will to get up from it.”

“Not at all” he chuckled “you look awfully comfy.”

“Yea, there’s not much to do but laze around in our lounge wear” she sank farther in the chair “we usually have parties or go out to downtown on nights like these” she sighed “and like, we could all say fuck the rules and Jin could teleport us to wherever we want to go or disable those security bots, but we promised no hijinks until the house arrest gets lifted.”

“Well, I guess we could just hang out and get to know each other better” he said as he sat on his rug to get on the same level as her “I don’t know much about you or your many talents.”

“You want to get to know me?” she gave a face of doubt “why though?”

“I hear about all your feats and triumphs” he praised “but I want to know the real you, the side that doesn’t get announced.”

She crunches on more cheetos “Well, I’m some Cali girl that’s gotten into some deep shit” she pauses a moment to think of the next thing to talk about “I’m just trying to be happy with what I’ve got.”

“But what about all your talents?”

“I’ve just gotten lucky” she picks up another cheeto “it’s always been like that.”

“Do you want to be here?”

“Heh, nope” a longing smile spreads across her face “I wanna be back home with my family, eating carne asada and frijoles. I want to be in the arms of my love, I want to cause chaos with my friends at the local swapmeet” she sighs “so many things I want to go back to but I can’t because I’ve committed myself here.”

“So what’s making things worthwhile?” he asked confused “you don’t seem totally miserable.”

“Well, don’t know about you” she put her cheetos beside her beanbag “but my sense of adventure and spry nature is what makes things interesting” she gently levitates Shinso “aren’t you a little curious to run your little paws on me, kitty?” she smirked as Shinso responds eagerly “aww look at you! Kitty wanna play with me? Kitty wanna cuddle up and have some fun?” Shinso obediently nods “come here then.”

The moment she puts him down, Shinso crawls on to her and starts to softly feel her features. He felt the soft texture of her curly hair, the exaggerated curve of her waist to her hips, her sweet little hands and her.... oddly muscular calves? Her scent is what really got him, like a flower garden and a hint of something sweet.

“I have to say” he cooed as he sniffed her shoulder “I like your scent, er I mean, is that too weird?” he instantly took back his creepy comment.

“A bit? hehehe” she giggled “you’re not the only one, Tenya always deep sniffs me when we hug” she ran a hand through his hair “it’s mostly the dried sachet I carry to suppress my quirk.”

He gives a weird face “That’s new, why the heck do you need your quirk suppressed?”

She explained everything “...I don’t really like the other methods” she sighed “honestly having telekinesis feels like a curse.”

“Why does it feel like that?” he was confused.

“Well it��s so hard to control and delicate” she closed her eyes “I haven’t had a proper nights sleep since I was 5 years old, when my quirk manifested, and I have so many quirk related health issues that have no remedy” she floated up with Shinso and the beanbag “if I get too stressed, I lose control of it and I could die! It’s fucked up but I just accepted it to be my fate.”

“That’s heavy, I’m sorry to hear that” he struggles to find the right words to say.

“Yup, I hope if I have kids, they’d get their father’s quirks” she opens her eyes “so they don’t have to bear the burden that’s my quirk” she scoffed at herself “bold of me to assume that I’ll live or keep someone long enough to have children with me.”

“Whoa that got dark” he tried to change the subject “but why think that you’ll never get there?”

“I’ve just given up on the prospect that I’ll find my one and only” she turned to look out the window “I came here alone, I’ve suffered alone so I’ll just die alone too. And it’s not like I’m sad about it” she tried to reassure Shinso “I’ve cried my tears and I planned out my life as a single woman.”

“What if you get a boyfriend?”

“Coolio, he can stay in my house if he doesn’t mind my floating.”

“What if you do get married? Children?”

“I’ll just have to figure it out from there!” she giggled “I didn’t factor in those things, it just feels like something out of my dreams that seems unattainable” she turned to face Shinso “it’s going to take a very strong and patient man to be my life partner.”

“You’re pretty, smart and strong” he grabs the floating bag of hot cheetos “you have boys fawning over you! Any one would be a fool to not keep you in their lives!” he eats a cheeto and instantly regrets it “oh fuck hot, hot HOT!”

She bursts out laughing “pendejo! can’t handle the spice?”

“NO!” he chugs his cold tea after she sets him down “you ate these like they weren’t spicy!”

“I’d been eating spicy since I was old enough to get solid food” she floated everything down and crunched on some cheetos “hot cheetos are snack spice! You should taste what we eat on a normal basis.”

“Hard pass” he pants with his tongue out “I’d kill for some of that rice milk drink you made though.”

“Go drink some milk fool!” she teased as he ran out to the kitchen “what a wuss.”

“AHHH SHINSO-KUN! ARE YOU OKAY?!” cried out some of the boys that were in the kitchen.

“Oh my God he’s drinking all the milk! Ew” gagged Jiro “that just the nastiest thing I’ve seen in a long time.”

I float out to where everyone was “Sorry yall, Shinso couldn’t handle the spice.”

“Palma-san? What were you doing with Shinso-kun?” asked Sero as he wiped the sweat and milk off of Shinso’s face.

“Just talkin’ and floatin’” she crunched on some more cheetos “Oi Bakugo! Get in on this shit.”

“Fuck yea!” Bakugo aggressively gets some and munches on them “that’s some good shit! God I miss eating your cooking” he gets more cheetos “you’re the only one that gives a spicy option to meals and your ethnic snacks and candy are the best!”

“Aww you miss me miss me?!” I teased to a very laxed Bakugo. He didn’t get irritated at the comment, just kept getting cheetos and crunching on them. “Anyways, fuck y’all for the house arrest” I spat out to really voice the feelings of the intel program “Now WE have to be on our best behavior to get considered for ban lift.”

“But can’t you just teleport anywhere?” Mineta spoke up “and what about your skinny friend with the portal quirk? Seems like you didn’t have a problem coming here.”

“Stupid they’ll get caught anyways!” Sero said as he finished cleaning up all the milk “they have earpieces that have a tracker so they can communicate and find each other” he turned to Palma-san “thats how they warned the school in time for the villain attack.”

“It’s true” I sighed “we were only involved in the communication part of the villain attack, things could’ve gone south if we weren’t coming back early from off-campus training.”

“We are very fortunate Ita, thank you” Iida stepped forward and bowed “on behalf of our class, I apologize.”

“Oh jeez Tenya no need to be so formal with the apologies” I cringed upon his gesture “but I should be warping back, looks like Shinso is pleading me to leave with my ethnic snacks from hell.”

“NO please stay!” Iida reached out to stop her “lets have a nice chat over apples.”

“Depends, will you let me eat unpeeled apples?” I arched my eyebrow.

“Yes, like the heathen you are” he cringed at the compromise “I’ll even slice them for you.”

“Oh fuck yeah!” I yelped as I give the bag of hot cheetos to Bakugo. Everyone was too weirded out by the idea of unpeeled apple eating, so they went about minding their own business. I sat on the floor, against the bed, of Iida’s room and I wasn’t thinking much about his sudden want for me to stay until he entered the room. Once he closed the door and locked it, his whole body language changed from ‘affirmative’ to ‘distressed’. “Tenya? You good?” I asked in a very concerned tone “you didn’t ask me to stay just to chat, did you?”

He sits in front of me, setting the bowl of apples down with a hard sigh “I’m not okay Ita” his voice was cracking a bit “this attack has been taxing me emotionally and I get that I’m the class rep and it’s my responsibility to keep everyone together and be strong but I-”

“But you’re at your limit huh” I finished his sentence and he nodded as he took off his glasses. “You poor thing” I softly spoke as I crawled over to hug him “tell me everything that’s bothering you, I’ll listen.”

He proceeds to talk it out with some tears as she lets him lean on her. Her back rubbing really helped him calm down and get comfortable. “...thank you for listening to me” he turned to make eye contact with her “I haven’t had time to myself and I don’t really trust anyone else with these things.”

“It’s no problem” I smiled warmly to assure him “you always listen to me and my problems, it’s the least I could do.” I start to rub is temples “when was the last time you just relaxed?”

He closed his eyes as he felt the her touch worked it’s magic “I don’t even know, it’s been pretty tough since starting school here” he moans softly “can you just keep doing that but all over my head?”

I giggled “you mean a head massage?” I switched to scalp rubbing “sure, just relax and let me work my magic.”

After a thorough head massage, he sits up and pulls her closer. Before she could say anything, he embraces her in a very needy way. “I wish I could just keep you close like this always” what is this boy trying to get at? “I’ve grown accustomed to your company and...softness.”

“My softness?” I uttered confused “has nobody hugged you as a child?”

“Rarely, your embrace feels like a mother’s love and the comforts of home” his hands shift on her back “do you ever feel like you found something you didn’t know was missing from your life?”

“I have yet to find it” I relax into the hug “but I have a feeling that my life is going to fall into place once I do.” I levitate an apple and take a big bite out of it, making the most wet sounding crunch.

“Okay, hug time over” Iida almost ejects her out of his arms “you might be cuddly but you’re also a skin-on-fruit eating heathen.”

I let out a cackle “nobody’s perfect Tenya” I take another bite out of my apple “these are some juicy bois.”

He couldn’t contain his laughter “you’re so silly Ita! Apples don’t have genders!”

I bust out laughing at that dumb retort and we spent the rest of the evening in that silly mood. Just being ourselves again and forgetting about the conflict that’s going on.

-Fast forward one week, Monday in homeroom-

“Okay everyone I have good news and two pieces of bad news” Diya announces to the class grudgingly “GOOD NEWS, the ban has been lifted on all intel” we all cheer but he waits for us to finish to give us the rest of his announcement “bad news 1: our activities planned for this term have been for the most part cancelled until further notice and bad news 2: we have to train the 1st years to be on par for full program defense in case of another villain attack.”

We groaned and cried out in disappointment as a class, the activities planned were a beach training day and other off-site weapon training. Plus the 1st years aren’t on par for anything really, unlike us, they have terrible team chemistry. We’ve seen their weapons training sessions and they end in disaster and most of the class in the nurses office. Jin raises his hand.

“Yes Matsui?”

“You mentioned full program defense, does that mean we not only have to learn another formation but also add more protocols?”

“Yes, it means precisely that” he exhales stressfully “from now to the end of the term, we’ll be all hands on deck and drill in another 10 protocols.”

I raise my hand.

“Put your hand down Palma, you can’t file a complaint over what our ‘Supreme Rat Overlord’ ,as you put it, called into action.” Diya wasn’t having any of our sass today.

I huffed as I put my hand down to cross them “Well that wasn’t very cash money of the Rat.”

“But you do have more liberties Palma” Diya says as he shuffles through some papers on his desk “since you’re in the hero program as well, you’re providing us with intel on them and increasing their chances of safety when you’re with them.”

“Oh so she’s like plain clothes security for them when it’s class time!” Yuka blurted.

“I guess that would make sense” Hansai thought out loud “those students really like your company regardless on if you have to be there or not.”

“Ugh that’s mega annoying” I groaned as I slid lower into my chair “that means I have to learn their new protocols too.”

“Oh man, press F in the chat for Palma-san’s sanity” Mimi bellowed for the class to participate.

“F” the class chanted in unison.

-After school, in the hero wing-

“Hey Palma-san” waved Shinso as I turned out of the classroom “that was quick, I thought you’d take more than 10 minutes.”

“Naw” I responded as I rubbed my face “unlike other teachers, Aizawa gets shit going if they need to be done.”

“What did you need to submit to him anyways?” he asked as we turned toward the front entryway “you were so stressed out over it that it concerned me.”

“Protocol conflicts” I sighed harshly “since I’m in both intel and hero programs, I abide by both of the given protocols for whatever situations. If I find a conflict that can’t be worked around or get technical, I have to report it so when the time comes neither group will get reamed for breaking protocol.”

“How many did you find?”

“Nearly all 10 new protocols conflict with intel’s new ones” we cross the school gates and into the sidewalk “If we got attacked again before I noticed the conflicts, yall would’ve been fucked because all I could do is rescue Bakugo and Todoroki because they aren’t hero license holders for more than 5 months!” I let out a giggle “imagine the rage Bakugo would be throwing when I have to get them to a safe area.”

“That does sound bad, you have a good sense of logic” Shinso pondered on my explanation “can’t believe the school is trusting you with that information.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m going to run off with these protocols” I smirked “my schooling is being paid for by the government that I’ll eventually have to work for and it’s not like I can leak this info to anybody in the United States, because there’s no hero schools out there” I look at Shinso “so by being responsible with this information and being proactive in the resolutions, I prove to them that I’m a trusted asset and they’re investing well in my education.”

“No hero schools back home? Hmmm” Shinso starts to connect the dots “does that mean that you did a full year of high school before coming here?”

I nod but also start sweating ‘oh crap I think I said too much’ I think to myself.

“Wow, I’m sorry you had to leave like that” his tone changes to something more empathizing “leaving your friends behind and family to a country full of strangers, I see why you feel the need to do things on your own” he stops walking just before the dorm perimeter “you feel abandoned and scared since you stepped foot here, you’re trying to mask all of that with your capabilities to keep everyone away from your past.”

I turn pale, he clocked me for everything I thought I was doing a good job at doing! He steps closer to me and I flinch, reflectively stepping back and put my arm up to block an attack, bad move on my end. He stops to put his hands out, like he was taming a wild animal. He takes another step and I don’t move but I don’t move my arm away either. Another step, I wonder why isn’t he using his quirk to freeze me in place? And what is he trying to do? Why here? Why now? My questions distracted me from him and his arms gently wrapping around me snapped me out of my thoughts.

“What are you-”

“Shhh, Ita” he softly spoke “I get it now, why you are the way you are and the pressure put upon you. It’s not fair and whoever hurt you so you had to ripped away from home, may the universe punish them!” I didn’t know what to say, I just stood there, dumfounded by the near accuracy “you don’t have to tell me the full story right now but know that I care about your wellbeing. And that’s rare for me to say.”

“Hitoshi” I broke my silence and hugged back “thank you, I’ve been waiting for someone to just stop trying to pry and just be understanding that I’ve been through my worst nightmares and barely survived” my face starts to creep up with a hard blush “it’s comforting to know that you care.”

“Why?” he asked as he pulled away from the hug and caught sight of my flushed face.

“Oh, uhh” I start stammering “no particular reason-�� I lock eyes with a familiar item thats poking out of Shinso’s backpack, a fucking pill container with a full nug of weed inside! I can’t let him know that I know what I saw so I blurt “hahaha good talk BYEEE!” and I teleport to my dorm. I peek from the common room window a perplexed Shinso walking up to the dorms and disappear inside.

“What the hell was that?” Yuka asked me when I turned to walk back to my room “don’t try hiding it Palma-san! I saw you do your little panic run-turn-to-teleport!” she narrowed her eyes and got snarky “you like that purple haired boy, don’t you?~”

“Ah fuck you caught me!” but right when I said that, Tetsutetsu jumped out from behind the couch.

“I KNEW IT!” he yelled “my boy finally warming up to you, I’m abouta cry some manly tears!”

“What the hell? Yuka are you trying to get us in trouble?!”

“Take a look at the full ban rule” she pointed to a packet on the counter “Jin did some snooping to get the full tea on our liberties.” She made 4 of herself to prevent me from changing the subject “so~what did you say that made you panic?”

I sighed and snickered “Okay so like, he almost clocked me on my past and was like ‘it’s ok I get it now and I care about you and thats rare’ right” I hold it together for the next part “and I’m like ‘oh I’m so glad that you care’ because I’m that bitch and I start blushing and he saw and that got me a lil fucked up that I looked away from him and saw that he got some of that good good” I pause to let Yuka gasp “yeah and I’m like damn he’s tight as fuck if he sparks up like me but I looked sus and I panicked a bit.”

“Thats cute though!” Yuka exclaims “OH you should drop in on a roof sesh and be like ‘oh? you’re here too?’ and see where the night takes you.”

I didn’t want to hear anymore Yuka date ideas “I’ll see BUT I wanna know the hot tea on this ban and where the hell it says the tin man is allowed to be here.”

“HEY!” Tetsu yelps at my comment.

“Oh sorry, Tin ADOLESCENT” my retort made Yuka laugh as I made my way to the packet. I spent about an hour on the 5 page with size 11 font packet to find every work around and liberties we could hark on. “So the ban was only for the dorm students, not because we were involved” I ponder a bit more “if they made a huge deal about us too, why wasn’t this packet made available to us sooner?”

Jin turns to place a cup of cucumber water in front of me “re-read the bottom of page 3″ he said as he turned the page for me and points at the section “it says something about targeted students and the students associated with them are to be under surveillance until ban is lifted.”

“Yea, it’s to prevent kidnapping and negotiating with the enemy right?”

“Not only that” he takes a sip of his cup “the school knows what we did at operation Lion’s Den. We put an authoritative eye on our class because of it” I stressfully put my head in my propped up hands “hey don’t be hard on yourself! The blame for any of this was that broccoli lookin ass and the aggressive twink.”

“I guess but that doesn’t make me feel less bad about it” I softly slam my head on the counter “and I assume that you found that I have to prevent them from any sort of recklessness on our off-site training?”

“Right on the money!” Jin finger-gunned at my guess “but you’ll have Mimi and I to help you with that since we’re the team with the most experience.”

I wasn’t liking all these changes but it was relieving to know my friends are going to be by my side. The days pass and I get more and more curious on Shinso’s weed preferences and routine. With some careful observation and some bribing of the 3rd year intel students, I’ve gathered that his dealer is some 3rd year business student and he smokes 3 times a week. He’s always alone when he does with occasional company from Aizawa, uses a glass piece to smoke out of but no intel on his choice of strain. Also, the more I notice, Shinso has warmed up to me to the point where he doesn’t chuckle at my wit but instead laughs genuinely. He’s given me more affection by giving me hugs and wiping the sweat off of my face when we do training. Much to my relief, nobody is noticing all this and I find the right time to wiggle in that I also smoke.

-After school, on the way to the dorms-

I do a deep sniff of the air “hey you smell that?”

“Smell....what?” asked Shinso, visibly panicked.

“That smell” I do some quick sniffs like a dog finding their bone “the smell of that sticky-icky” I sniff toward Shinso “hmmm, well wherever it’s from, disappointed to know that they didn’t invite me.”

“Wait, you know it’s weed?” Shinso asked bewildered at my coolness “but how?”

I giggled “Silly Hitoshi! I came from California, weedtopia of the United States!” I pointed at his bag “also I took a lil peek at your bag and I can’t believe you just carry your nugs in those pill bottles” I make a hand gesture “at least put it in a rolled up pair of socks until you get to your dorm.”

Shinso stood there with his mouth open and red faced, he could not believe that I knew so much. “S-so hmmm” he stammered “you wouldn’t happen to smoke yourself...do you?”

“I do, who wouldn’t after dealing with those kids all day” I sighed “invite me to your smoke sesh sometime, I’d love to show you a good time.”

He caught on to my flirt and just turned more red “Umm yeah for sure” he tried to be cool about it “how about tonight? On the rooftop?”

“I’d like that” I responded with out breaking a sweat “see you later~” I turn and teleport out into my dorm. I start freaking out a bit because I can’t believe I just did that. I walk out to the commons room to express my freak out “guys I’m fucking reeling! I got myself in the infatuation zone with that purple haired boy.”

“The one with the eye bags and brainwash quirk?!” Mimi exclaimed “you got a smoke sesh with him?!” I nod and everyone squeals in excitement “when for?”

“Tonight at usual getting high hours on the hero rooftop”

“Bitch what are you doing telling us?!” Yuka scolded me “you should be getting ready! it’s T-minus 3 hours until real getting high hours.”

“It’s just a smoke sesh Yuka”

“Don’t you want to get in the commitment zone?” she made a good point “didn’t you tell us that what’s his face isn’t interested in what you’re dropping?” she pushes me to my room “it’s time to get pretty and forget about that goody goody glasses boy!”

As I get ready, I start to recall all the times Iida didn’t pick up on my advances in comparison on how Shinso picked up on mine right away. If I play my cards right, Shinso is the one, no doubt about it. I check the time, it’s nearly 7pm, he’s probably on his way to the roof but I didn’t want to seem desperate so I waited until he got there to teleport over.

“Hey~” I say as I teleport in sight.

“Hey yourself” Shinso responded “you look really cute.”

“Oh thanks” I may have tried too hard to get in the commitment zone, I wore my finest sporty capri leggings and a cat crop top “it’s just my comfiest sesh wear.”

“Thats what I like alot about you” he said as he pulled out a few pill bottles out of his pencil pouch looking bag “you don’t try hard to look cute or pretty, you can pull off anything and you’d get complimented.”

“Thanks...so what you smokin?” I tried to change the subject “are you a sativa lad or indica enthusiast? or a hybrid edgelord?”

“What’s your favorite?” he sneered at me “since you know so much?”

“Pues, I smoke indica to help me sleep since my quirk can activate while I sleep” I start explaining as I pull out my pill bottles and rolling papers “but I love to smoke hybrids when I’m with others.”

“Oh you’re a joint girl” he oogles my variety of rolling papers and blunt wrappers “can’t say I can roll to save my life, so I’m a piece person.”

“Figured that much about you” I pick up a pill bottle “but you have some nice ones, back home the boys usually just have the cheap ones and they break in your hands” I grind a chunk of nug “it totally kills the mood! Thats why I took the time to perfect the art of joint rolling.” I start rolling up a joint on my thigh with grace “see? can’t ruin the vibes if you know how to roll” I lick the edge to seal and twist the end to finish the joint. I hand the joint to Shinso and he gives me a surprised look.

“For me?” he takes the joint from my hand “what’s the strain?”

“One of my favorites, Pineapple Kush in a pina colada flavored rolling paper” I get giddy to explain it “it’s an indica that has a pineapple-y taste and with the flavored paper, it’ll taste like summer! Plus the indica will help you knock out if you’re having trouble falling asleep.”

He palms the joint “Wow you really know your stuff huh?” he tucks it in his pouch “I’ll save it for a sleepless night, but I show you my favorite” he picks up one of his bottles “OG Purple Kush, semi grinded in the bowl.”

“OH! Have you ever mixed it with some Purple Paralysis?”

“With what now?!” he asked as he popped open the bottle.

I scan through my bottles to find it “this one, Purple Paralysis” I hand him the bottle “its a sativa and it’s not the strongest but mixed with OG purp, it’ll make you inspired to do some song writing or poetry.”

“Hmm, I’m intrigued” he looks at me with curious eyes “grind some so we can smoke it, I really want to feel what you mean.”

We combine the two in Shinso’s piece and smoked, the effects hit and we started to really have a good time.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” I asked as I poked his forehead “you look like you have an idea.”

“I was just thinking that I was wrong about you” he smiled and made eye contact with me “you know your stuff and I should listen to you more” he smirked “actually I think everybody should, you’re amazing Ita.”

“Oh stop it you!” I blushed and playfully pushed him “you talk me up too much but I feel like that sometimes” I lay down, resting my head on my bag “that everyone should listen to me because I do know a thing or two about the given situation but I don’t know” I sigh softly “I never wanted to be the leader but the leader isn’t doing anything either so I’m just stuck as the voice of reason.”

“You don’t want to be a leader?” Shinso lays next to me “is it because of your family dynamic?”

“Not really, it’s more that I don’t like authority and I don’t want to be hypocritical and be an authority too.”

“Oh damn thats deep” Shinso looks up at the night sky “I should write that down and pin it to my wall.”

“Oh lordt que de dije that mixing the two will result in this” I giggle “I’m glad that you wanted to smoke with me tonight” I look up at the sky “it’s a lovely night to get high with someone and get lost in thought.”

“Yeah, a lovely night” a silence followed, just vibing and stargazing. Shinso turned to her “you know, you’d make an excellent wife someday” their eyes met, her’s having a confused look “you’re beautiful inside and out, anyone would be a fool to not keep you around and make you happy.”

“I believe you” I smiled and blushed “you told me sober and under the influence, it must be true.”

We spent hours just talking with some flirty undertones, plans for more sessions to come. I go to bed feeling happy that finally I have someone that’s interested and responds to my advances. Not only that but I really feel that Shinso is going to be endgame with me. I could genuinely say that I am falling for him.

-Chapter 28 End-

#bnha #mha #self insert au #not canon #chapter 28 #will update regularly #ask me anything #as promised a chapter in mid october #next chapter in 2 weeks #in time for thanksgiving break #also did yall appreciate the weed knowledge #of course I made Shinso a weed smoker #did you expect anything less?

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cupidkihyun · 7 years

Text

Bad Decisions pt 2 [Jaehyun]

Genre: Angst

Scenario: Your long term friend Jaehyun is in love with your best friend. You want nothing but the best for them but silently dealing with your break up from BTS singer Jeon Jungkook has been weighing on you. One drunken night and one bad decision leads to risks taken and mistakes made.

Characters: Jaehyun; Reader (You); Your Friend (Y/F/N); Mark; small mention of other members

Word Count: 2007

Notes: Thank you so much for your feedback with part 1, reading your nice comments really made my day! Here’s part 2 I hope you guys enjoy it as well.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 5.5

“Alright.”

He gave you a slow nod, his eyes telling you ‘its what’s for the best Y/N’, and he released his grip on your knee. You couldn’t necessarily poke any holes in his logic. It’s true that he and Y/F/N weren’t dating but they might as well have been. She was so in love with him and up until now you would have said he felt the exact same way about her.

As you sat with your thoughts he collected his discarded shirt off the floor and rolled it up into a ball in his fist. You watched him tug the wrinkled black material onto his body. He popped his head through the hole and shook his dark hair. You walked over to your bag, checking your phone one more time before slinging the strap across your shoulder.

“It’s almost 4am, you should just spend the night.” Jaehyun called after you.

“No I’m just gonna go.”

“Looking like that?” He gestured to your body. The deep marks his mouth left on your skin starting to turn a dull purple, “Just stay over Y/N. You can sleep in my room. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“It’s different now. We can’t do that kind of thing anymore.”

“I didn’t want things to be different.”

“Well they are!”

Mark’s awkward cough caught your attention and you both turned to look at him, “You can sleep in my bed, Y/N. I can sleep on the floor.”

“Mark how long were you standing there.”

“I just came back; you guys are being hella loud. I’m surprised Haechan hasn’t scrambled out here at the first sign of drama.”

The next day you woke up to a sleeping Mark softly snoring on the floor beside you. You were lax for a moment seemingly in a limbo, until you remembered what you had done last night. Y/F/N had told you she liked Jaehyun many times over, always telling you about the little conversations they had and the compliments he would send her way. Guilty was not a strong enough word of how you felt.

You got up out of bed twisting your stiff limbs until you heard them crack and roll back into place. You quietly shuffled out of the room, entering the small kitchen and living area to find Haechan already awake munching on a muffin.

“Noona, are you alright? You have marks on your neck,” he said worried trying to get a better look at your neck.

“Uh yeah Haechan I’m fine”, you said hurriedly covering your neck with your hand and moving past him to get out the door and down to your car, waving half-heartedly at him as you left.

You had texted Y/F/N last night saying you had got carried away with the Uno game and didn’t realize the time had flown by. You hoped that didn’t sound too fake over text, usually you were more careful about sleeping over, being an idol you couldn’t ruin your image with something as little as staying over at a boy’s dorm.

She had texted you back not one second later telling you it was okay and that you had dance practice tomorrow and to be back early to get a shower, change, and eat before you both left.

You couldn’t help but let a few tears slip as you sat in your car looking at your messages. She was always so kind to you, especially after your break up with Jungkook. She won’t even yell at you for staying over, which she should, instead she’ll have breakfast ready and nothing but a smile on her face.

You drove back to your dorm, it was about 20 minutes away, giving you time to compose yourself before you met your members.

You walked into the dorm to find it empty, there was no music on, no one starting a food fight in the kitchen. You placed your bag down on the couch, going into the room you shared with Y/F/N and walked straight into her.

“Oh, hey there you are. I didn’t hear you come in”, she said as you backed up a little, your head hitting the back of the door.

“Are you okay? You look tired….”, she said as she peered at your face. It must still be puffy from you crying this morning.

“Uh, yeah. Fine, fine. Um why is no one else awake?”, you said diverting the question.

“They have the day off, because we’re practicing with Mark and Jae today for our sub-group. Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t drink anything did you?”

“Yeah, yeah I am. I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, sorry. I’m gonna go take a shower before we have to leave”

“Alright, I’ll make breakfast. Bacon and eggs sound good?”, she said as she made her way out of the bedroom.

“Uh yeah that’s fine”, you said as you grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt from your closet and rushed to the bathroom. Keeping this from her was harder than you expected.

Once you were done with your shower you did minimal make-up, being an idol you never got a day off to be “normal”. You stared at yourself in the mirror. The hickeys Jaehyun gave you still shone on your skin a deep plum color, making your thoughts drift back to last night. His lips on your skin felt so… right. But you couldn’t deny the amount of guilt you felt over it, it was slowly suffocating you like a flower wilting in the sun.

You covered up the marks he left on you as best you could, and made your way to the kitchen. The savory smell of bacon hit your nose as you rounded the corner, seeing Y/F/N bent over the stove cooking.

“Hey, I’m almost done, give me a minute”, she said smiling softly at you.

You took a seat at the breakfast bar, waiting patiently as she finished. Your phone vibrated on the counter, startling you. It was Jaehyun.

Jaehyun: “Remember what we agreed to last night. We can’t tell her”

Y/N: “The guilt is eating me alive Jae, I don’t know if I can be this fake to her and her not notice something is off with me. It’s only a matter of time”

Jaehyun: “Y/N you know we can’t tell. We’re just gonna have to forget about it”

Y/N: “Easier said than done”

“Here, I hope you like it!”, Y/F/N said as she placed a heaping plate of food in front of you.

“I always like it, you’re the best”

“Haha thanks. I’m looking forward to today, I think it’s going to be really fun and our song is really good! I hope the fans like it, there’s been a lot of hype around it. And I think Jaehyun likes me Y/N, like likes me likes me. He’s really cute, right? Do you think he’ll ask me out? I hope he does”

You swallowed thickly, “I mean he’s alright…and yeah I’m 100 percent sure he likes you”, You said trying to keep up with the conversation as best you could without sounding too “off”.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting… strange this morning”

“Y/F/N I SAID I WAS FINE” you snapped as you eyed the girl beside you.

She looked taken aback, her hair falling in perfect waves down her face, framing it in a soft halo. Her eyes told you she knew something was up, but you were unwilling to tell.

“Y/N, I was just trying to help. Something is obviously eating away at you”, she said as she stood up, her chair scraping along the floor as she did. She washed her plate, and put it in the dishwasher then turned back to you.

“We leave in 10 minutes, I’ll drive”, she said as she left the kitchen with a solemn expression.

Now you really fucked up. She knew something was up, why you thought you could hide it was beyond you.

You both sat in the car, not talking. “Singing in the Rain” by JinSoul was softly playing in the background, as rain drops started to lightly hit the roof of the car. You guys were usually singing and dancing to whatever song was playing and you had been vlogging your trips in the car, but Y/F/N turned off the camera as soon as you got in the car telling fans you would be back later and shut off the V-live. The camera turned itself on automatically when the car started, giving fans an inside look at what happened when you guys drove.

“Great,” you heard Y/F/N mutter as she put on the wipers as the rain started to pick up, thunder booming in the distance.

She pulled into the underground garage at your company and into the space closest to the elevator and shut off the engine.

“Hey I’m sorry about this morning, you don’t need to tell me everything and I’m sorry for prying into your business” she said as she broke the silence.

“It’s okay. I was being a bitch about it,” you muttered as you glanced at her.

“I mean kind of….” she said a smile on her face, “Okay we good? Let’s go!”, she said as she hopped out of the car.

You couldn’t help but admire how she handled situations, you guessed it came with being the leader of a popular K-pop group and the constant pressure.

You followed her to the elevator, pushing the button for the 6th floor. You almost forgot about what transpired the other night until the doors opened to reveal Mark and Jaehyun waiting outside the practice room.

“Oh guys I’m sorry, I forgot it was locked,” Y/F/N said as she came in front of them to unlock the doors. “No one is usually here this early”.

As Y/F/N was occupied with the doors and Mark’s comments about how “Noona’s shouldn’t forget such meaningful things” Jaehyun gave you a pointed look that clearly said “Don’t say anything” and slipped inside the practice room.

After about 4 hours of getting the dance moves wrong and “Noona that’s too sexy for my eyes” you guys had finally taken a break. You made your way over to where your bag was and fished out your water bottle you knew Y/F/N had packed for you.

“Hey”, you heard a deep voice say right behind you.

“Fuck Jaehyun, you scared me. And I don’t want to talk to you right now,” you said as you tried to get back to Y/F/N and Mark, who were currently playing “rock, paper, scissors” for who had to buy the food for lunch.

“You haven’t said anything to her right?”

“No, I haven’t,” you scowled at him.

“Okay, well I just asked her if I could take her out after practice and she agreed”

“Great, now move”, you said.

Suddenly you hear Mark’s voice boom through the practice room. “Yo I wouldn’t leave those two together for too long after what happened last night” he hollered and you immediately knew you were going to kill Mark.

“What happened last night?” Y/F/N asked as she counted out money for lunch absentmindedly on the floor.

“Nothing” you and Jaehyun said at the same time.

“You guys didn’t tell her?”

“Mark shut the fuck up”, you snarled.

“Oh just that they were all on each other last night.” Mark laughed/

Y/F/N turned to look at the both of you, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. “Jaehyun what is he talking about?”

“Y/F/N it wasn’t like that.” Jaehyun blurted out quickly.

Mark rolled his eyes, “Oh please, I could hear you guys with my door shut. And the way you guys were clinging to each other, oh my god, it was like you two were ‘bout to merge souls or something. I’m actually gonna have night terrors for the rest of my life.”

You couldn’t be more horrified. The look on her face was of utter disbelief, which turned to anger, then sadness all in a mere second.

-admin unnie & punpun

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