#n then this week i need to free up more space in order to update

[evan4ever]

Vegas, Baby

Part 7 — part 6 here

Warnings: pregnancy! Vomiting, motion sickness

—

You spent the next week packing up your apartment, skipping right to the point in order to get to LA before you were due to make things easier on you and Evan. And to your surprise, Evan stayed back the week yo help you. Sarah went back due to work but after some time talking it through with Evan, she was on board.

Unfortunately, Shayla wasn’t.

You had dropped your very big news on her later that day.

“Are you sure this is the right thing to do? You don’t know him, y/n. What if this is some huge joke? What if you deliver and he kicks you to the curb? What are you going to do in LA all alone? Please, at least think this through more than you have.” She had begged and pleaded with you but you had your mind set and your decision was made. To your surprise, instead of trying to support you and get on board like Sarah, she stepped back claiming to need time. It hurt your feelings, but you allowed her to take all the time she needed.

You were entirely grateful for Evan taking the week off to help you, or you’d quite literally be packing your apartment by yourself with only a week left until you were due. Though you were a minimalist, your apartment had very little in it so by the end of packing, you only had 2 large boxes, your television, loveseat and your bed.

“You don’t have to bring these, if you don’t want to.” You looked at Evan who was standing, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. You looked back to your loveseat and queen bed that had been brought to the living room, the last two things that needed packed. You blinked a few times and looked back to him needing more elaboration. “I just mean.. I have.. I have them for you. At home. And you can just you know, you can have them whenever you decide to move… out.” He was so awkward, it kind of brought you joy.

“I don’t want to take your belongings.” You admitted, feeling guilty over the fact that they’re his and he’d be giving them to you for free.

“Really. I’d like you to have them, if you will. The bed is a king and you’ll be more comfortable with a baby, if you decide to co-sleep ya know?” He cleared his throat hoping what he was saying was okay. You sent him a small smile, nodding in acceptance of his offer. He was right. Not that a queen bed wouldn’t work for you but it would be much nicer to have the extra room. Maybe you’d get a dog, you thought.

“I can pay you, eventually.” You nodded. You never accepted free offers, never wanting anything to be held over your head. He objected, but your mind was made.

After some time, Evan returned from talking to your landlord who happily obliged to his offer of using your furniture that you were going to leave behind. “He said thank you.” Evan sent you a tight lipped grin and you nodded again, looking around your mostly empty apartment that you’d only been in for a few months now and would be leaving behind. You weren’t necessarily sad to be leaving this life behind, of course you’d miss the few friends you had but they could always visit and so could you. It was more of a relief that you were staring fresh, a new start. It killed you a bit to lean on Evan for support but you were confident that you’d make it eventually. You just wanted to get through your sons birth and be able to lean on someone for help, something you’ve never really had before. All of it was pretty relieving.

“Are you ready?” Evans voice snapped you out of your thoughts, your eyes flickering to him and your eyebrows raising.

“Yeah. Yes.” You cleared your throat and looked down at your phone, hoping that maybe Shayla would text you. You’d sent her a few updates just so she’d know what was going on, even though she wasn’t on board. You wanted to give her space but you also hoped she would come see you or at the very least call you before you left. She read your texts, no replies, but she knew that today you were leaving. Your lips pressed together tightly not seeing any new texts from her, your thumb lingering over the call button as your head raced back and forth whether to call her. “I just.. I need to make a call quick, okay?” You looked back up to Evan who gave you a nod.

“I’ll be downstairs, take your time. We still have an hour before we have to be at the airport.” He reassured kindly before leaving you alone in the nearly empty room. You took a deep, hopeful breath before calling Shay, pressing the phone to your ear and staring at the floor while it rang.

You felt your stomach turn making you slightly nauseas the longer it rang without an answer, your eyes closing tightly when you reached her voicemail. You couldn’t help the tears that formed and fell down your cheeks. She was your best friend. She was supposed to be here, lift you up just like you always did her. You didn’t understand how she could be so supportive your entire pregnancy only to disappear the second you decided to make a move that would help you. You did understand her hurt feelings of being “left behind” as she said, but it wasn’t the case. You never intended to leave her behind or to stop being best friends. In fact, your first thought after the decision was made was to encourage her to come to LA. Surely there would be so many more, better paying jobs than here. But she didn’t even give you the chance to suggest it to her. Her mind was made and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

With one last look around making sure you had everything you needed to bring with you, you left the apartment, closing the door and never looking back.

You found where Evan was parked, the moving guys truck behind him. He had hired someone to drive your belongings to LA, something you also appreciated. You made your way to Evans rental car and got in the passenger seat, closing the door and immediately putting your seatbelt on. You looked out the window to gaze at the building before you, focusing on evening your breath out so Evan wouldn’t notice your sudden drop in mood, but to no avail.

“Are you okay?” He spoke quietly, just above a whisper. You squeezed your eyes shut, quickly wiping your tears before blinking a few times and smiling over to him. He only gazed at you with concern.

“I’m fine. It’s… friend problems.” You nodded letting out a small chuckle. “I’ll be okay though.” He let his gaze linger a moment longer before giving you a nod and another one of his famous tight lipped smiles. You watched as he put the car in drive and set off for the airport, feeling your nerves begin setting in that this was it, this was really happening. You were moving to LA.

—

The plane ride was long and uncomfortable. You couldn’t settle your nerves no matter how hard you tried. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to do this, you did. It was exciting. But it was new, you were bound to feel a little nervous. And the motion sickness you got was horrendous. You had spent a good 45 minutes in the bathroom vomiting up everything your stomach possibly could. Evan had been right behind you, rubbing your back and holding your hair and wiping your sweat beaded forehead, and you couldn’t even explain how thankful you were. The flight attendants and the rest of the passengers were patient and understood. By the end, you couldn’t wait to get off and to your advantage, everyone stayed sat letting you go first seeing the paleness in your face and the desperation in your eyes. Evan carried your small carry on bag that you brought while following you down the corridor of the plane and exiting off the ramp into the airport. His hand had been placed on the small of your back just to ensure your safety throughout.

You walked with him to the stairs of the airport in silence, having no real insight of the place since you’d never been. Evan had led you to a man who was waiting for you, then guiding you both outdoors to make your way to a vehicle. As soon as you had exited the building, you were met with cameras flashing and people filing into your space.

Your eyes widened as you realized it was paparazzi, knowing that there was a chance of running into them but completely forgetting that the news of Evan having a secret child was still circling the web and people had questions. Many of them.

“Y/n! Is it true you didn’t tell Evan of the pregnancy with his own child?!”

“Is it true you had a one night stand in Vegas?!”

“Evan how do you feel about having a child in the way?”

“Evan is y/n moving in with you?!”

“Evan!”

“Y/n”

“Evan!”

Your head spun at all of the questions being thrown your way, at all the yelling and your personal space being invaded. You attempted covering your face, not wanting any pictures taken of you and not wanting to answer any questions or have to talk to any strangers. It overwhelmed you and you quickly began spinning in the midst of what was happening, jumping as you felt someone take ahold of your waist. You were ready to swing on someone, but quickly was met by Evan’s concerned and apologetic eyes. You allowed yourself to sink into him, letting him guide you out doing his best to hide you from the cameras.

You knew he wasn’t hiding you for any reason other than your own comfort and safety, and you felt just that being in his hold. The man finally led you both out of the crowd and to a black Escalade, opening the door while Evan helped you into it, closing your door for you and walking to the other side.

Your head instantly relaxed against the headrest, your fast heartbeat finally having a chance to calm itself. You honestly couldn’t believe this was something Evan had to go through often. How? It was exhausting and it was your first ever experience with it. You hoped it would be the last, but you knew better.

Both Evan and the man entered the vehicle, all of you buckling your seatbelts. You rested your head against the window and watched as the car drove off. The sun was setting, it was only about 8pm but it had been cloudy. Weird for LA, you thought. But it was a comforting peace, perfect for you to watch the lights of LA as you guys passed large buildings and stoplights. It was a large place compared to your hometown. You’d been to other large places, Denver, Texas, Minnesota. But none of them even came close to what LA was. It would definitely take you awhile to learn your way around this place.

The ride was quiet, only the sound of music on the radio and passing vehicles heard. It wasn’t an awkward atmosphere, the opposite actually. You felt okay in this moment.

“Are you cold?” You heard Evan ask, looking over to him confused before realizing you were hugging yourself tightly.

“Just a bit. Not too bad or anything.” You shrugged not wanting to hassle him, but he leaned over and adjusted the temperature level and went out of his way to point all the heating vents towards you, you only watching in awe wondering how he could possibly this sweet. “Thank you” you whispered and he nodded happily, meaning back in his seat and looking out of his window. You took the chance to gaze at him a moment longer, admiring his entire self. His dark locks rested perfectly on his forehead, he had a brown jacket on and some regular jeans on. His hands were crossed in his lap, your eyes wandering over them taking in their features. He was a paler guy, and it made his dark veins stand out, not helping any that they stuck out from his skin perfectly as it was. It was honestly hot. He as a whole was such an attractive man.

You pressed your lips tightly together, looking away quickly and closing your eyes as you told yourself to knock it off. You needed to focus on anything but the fact that you were so attracted to him. You couldn’t help it though. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones making you go crazy. But if you could, you would crawl onto his lap and give yourself to him completely. Maybe it was the lack of sex you’ve had since him. Maybe it was because he was the last person who has touched you intimately. Maybe you were just yearning to feel something good, and he made you feel good all those months ago.

You bit into your bottom lip as your thought overwhelmed you, feeling completely helpless in this moment. You knew better. You knew he was taking care of you because you were carrying his child. You knew it meant nothing more, you even knew that your feelings right now weren’t rational. But God, you just wanted to feel him again.

You quickly looked up from your phone deciding to kill the time scrolling through Instagram when you felt the car pull off into a long driveway, watching as a gate opened for you all. Your eyebrows raised in surprise at the security system that was placed, raising even more when your eyes landed on the home. It was huge. It was beautiful. You couldn’t believe it was your home for the next few months. You had never lived in such a nice place, really never even being in something like this before. Your eyes wandered at the landscaping, landing on the pool that was slightly behind it. Wow, you thought. You really couldn’t even begin to put into words what this place was like. It was like a dream but it was reality.

“So…” you heard Evan start, looking over to him. He was just nodding, his lips pressed tightly together. “We’re home.” He attempted to smile but you could see the worry in his face. He knew this was a lot for you, how new it was. And he wanted to stay as humble as he could. Being famous came with its perks of course, but that’s not what he wanted you to see. He just wanted it to be a welcoming place that you could stay for as long as you wanted.

You let out a breathless chuckle, simply nodding and following as he got out. He retrieved your bag as well as his, guiding you inside. You looked back to watch the man drive away, blinking a few times before allowing yourself in while Evan held the door for you. Your eyes instantly scanned over the area in awe. Evan was definitely a clean, put together man. Everything was in place perfectly, nothing out of place at all. There were some simple decor around the walls, some plants even. The air felt good, smelt fresh. It was a good feeling.

“I have a cat.” He furrowed his eyebrows looking at you wondering if it’d be a problem. You smiled up to him.

“I love cats.” You said quietly, giving him a small nod to let him know it was okay. He sighed in relief and looked forward.

“Um, I have a few spare rooms. You can choose if you’d like but uh, this is the one I was going to have you take.” You followed him down the hallway, looking over at the kitchen as you passed before gazing at the large living room. You wondered if he decorated himself or hired someone because it was beautifully put together. You both stopped at the first door from the living room, watching as he opened it to reveal the large bedroom. It had a king bed in the middle, the window had a built in cushion seat, and there was two dressers. It was bright, the window bringing in natural light even though it was starting to darken outside. You walked in still looking around, Evan following in after and setting your bag on the bed. “I just.. I thought it would work the best. It can fit a crib and all the, you know, baby stuff.” He shrugged. “I can definitely show you the other rooms if you’d like-“

“No” you interrupted him, finally turning to face him and sending him a warm, reassuring smile. “This is.. it’s perfect.” His face lit up quickly, his hand reaching to scratch the back of his neck, another quirk you’ve noticed he does often. “Thank you. For doing this.”

“Don’t thank me. I wanted to. I’m… entirely grateful that you decided to come here. I really hope it’s not too much to ask.” He allowed himself to lean against the bed watching as you made your way to the bed, your hands tracing over the wooden bed set it was sat on. “I’d really like to make you as comfortable as possible so… anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

You looked up at him, now being next to him again. You felt grateful, but you kept it in your mind that you weren’t going to solely rely on him for the reason you stated before to yourself. But you definitely were going to make yourself at home. “Thank you.” You nodded again as you leaned yourself against the bed like him, next to him. You both sat quietly, him giving you the time to take it all in.

“The uh, the paparazzi won’t always be like that at the airport. It’s just the big news you know? They… they go out of their way to find everything they can. It’ll blow over soon.” You looked over at him and listened as he spoke, nodding occasionally. “Probably after he’s born. Give it like 3 weeks after and they’ll be gone for the most part.”

You took a breath in, your hands moving to your bump. You only had a week left. It was pretty unbelievable that it was already here. It felt like a lifetime went by yet, it was so fast. Evans eyes moved to your hands placed over your bump, you immediately realizing he’s never felt him move before. And he was in luck, he was kicking like crazy right now.

“Would you like to feel him?” You spoke quietly, Evan’s eyes quickly flickering back to your eyes with slight worry that you were uncomfortable with him looking at you, though you weren’t at all. You chuckled at his worry and let your hand find his, taking ahold of it gently while you both still held eye contact. Once you knew he was okay with it, you moved his hand to your bump with his head and placed it perfectly over your baby. You could hear his breath hitch when he felt the first kick, smiling brightly at his reaction. His smile widened instantly, almost unable to believe that this was real. He was really feeling his child, kicking from inside his womb. If he wasn’t so worried about being the strong, supportive man he wanted to be for you, he’d probably allow himself to cry. It was just so raw and real. Not that he wasn’t excited before, but this was a newfound excitement. He could feel his son.

He kept his hand on your bump while yours stayed placed over his, his eyes were watching as your baby kicked and pushed so hard that it would move your hands, making Evan smile so hard it hurt. Meanwhile, your eyes were on him, watching the father of your child finally have the chance to feel this and engage in it. Something you yearned for for so long and it was here. You felt so bare in this moment, so vulnerable. It almost scared you.

“This is incredible.” He shook his head in a happy disbelief, your lips forming an equally happy smile, nodding to agree. He looked up to meet your eyes again while you stayed gazing at him. “We’re really gonna have a baby in a week.”

“Yeah. Yeah we are.” You sighed, feeling his excitement coursing through you. And in that moment, you saw his eyes flicker down to your lips, quickly meeting your eyes again. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same that you did. You knew it was probably wrong, but right now it felt so incredibly right.

Your kept your face soft, your eyes lingering in each other for a few moments. His mind raced with thoughts just as yours did, but he couldn’t help himself when he leaned forward slowly, carefully. You didn’t move or look away, and it was the approval he needed, his lips now only inches from yours. Your mouth parted slightly, your breathing heavy and uneven, your nerves on fire when you finally closed the space between you. Your hands carefully found their way to either side of his face, holding him gently to you. His carefully wrapping around your waist allowing room for your bump between you.

You weren’t sure if this was out of the emotions you both felt in the moment or if it’d ever even happen again, but you didn’t care. You allowed yourself to live in this moment, just as he did. There wasn’t anything you wanted more than to feel him right now, his lips moving perfectly with yours, his calloused and cold hands moving against the bare skin just barely under your shirt. This was all you needed right now. It felt so right.

And you knew it couldn’t happen again.

—

a/n: obvs pretend the man’s hand has no tattoos 😭

tags: @demxnicprxncess @quicksilversg1rl @evanpetersfav @kylespencersvocalcords @evanpetersmood @totta69 @ava1262 @1109oo @laynna-mcknight @jjamesstar @yes-divine-ruler @littledreamybeth @bxbyalixo @mraes @prettywhenwedie

[isaspsp]

Wanted to join in the clan gen blogs BUT, see, I'm bad at comics, so I am not gonna even ATTEMPT to commit to that. But what can I commit to? A gigantic illustration that will take me weeks? Uh, sign me up!

So, I opened clan gen and created a clan, played two hundred moons on it and drew out the final family tree! I'll probs reblog this later with like, doodles of memorable moments the clan had, my fav relationships n stuff, but this is the main project heheh.

Idk, if you are curious about the lives of any given cats, feel free to ask ^_^

Download to see the full gigantic thing!

More info under the cut!

It's so many cats y'all. so many. 84 I think? God, and I was trimming the clan too! Kits and joiners that I killed as soon as they joined were not added here. Mostly kits tho.

Mapping out the characters was the hardest part. While clangen offers a pretty comprehensive family tree by looking up each cat, it's harder to have them all mapped out (which is why clangen doesn't DO that, they arent stupid like me) I started by mapping it all out on a site called Family Echo, with which I could map out the greatest majority of the tree~ I then did a rough sketch on my canvas laying out where the characters would be. And looking back, I hilariously underestimated how much space I would need, lollll. The original canvas was already pretty big, about 5000x1200, but that was before I decided to do, you know, a nice organized layout. Here's that original tree layout:

So umm, a whole ass mess. The final canvas is... 11480x3513. The biggest canvas I've ever had to have. golly.

Would I recommend this to anyone? Well, if you start your clan and do this immediately and go updating bit by bit as the moons go by, then yeah! I really enjoy visuals like these, it's like seeing statistics, heheh. Otherwise, unless you seek suffering? NO.

Fun fact, originally the clan was named DewClan, but while I was playing, @moons-of-dewclan started their blog (yes, I've been working on this for that long (also, go check themout, it's really really ggod!) and I was like oop, so I just used orvalho, which is,,, dew in Portuguese heheh.

There probably are mistakes here and there, for example I just saw that BirtchSpike is named as BirthSpike... OH FUCKING WELL.

My fav cats were (No order): Star Ratwhisker, RiverFrost, PoucePlume, GullShimmer, GustPath, CressCinder, StormDance, BiteWhisker, MouseSpot, BirtchSpike

My fav designs were (No order): PaleSplinter, DropStreak, GoldFlare, PoucePlume, GullShimmer, SpiderLeaf, OceanLight, Rufus, DropStreak, MouseSpot, MistyShade~

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Reflections

Chapter One

Master List / Real People Master List / Reflections Master List

Pairing: Mia MacAlsdair x Au Tom Hiddleston

Warnings: partner abuse, language, 18+ Minors do not interact

A/N: I apologize in advance should my Scottish/English interpretations be incorrect. I am Canadian playing in a world of my own making. Do not @ me.

**I do not tag. **To be notified of updates and new works, subscribe to me or the story on AO3 for email notification, or follow the library blog @tilltheendwilliwrite-library  with notifications turned on so you’re not missing out. An account is required to access my work on AO3. For more information on how to get your FREE AO3 account, see this post.

~

Leonardo da Vinci once wrote, "I love those who can smile in trouble, who can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by reflection." 

Mia took those words to heart when life crashed and burned around her. At thirty-one, she found herself dumped by her fiancé of five years, homeless, and out of work, recovering from the pandemic and all that went along with that bullshit. 

Canada wasn't hit as hard as other places worldwide, but it was hard enough that the economy struggled to recover even a few years later.

As an artist with a unique style, Mia also struggled. She had a decent following, and people liked her creations, but when the pandemic hit, she stagnated in a market that no longer had disposable income to spend. She put her hastily acquired medical transcription certificate to use to make ends meet and began working from home in her shared apartment. The work-from-home opportunity allowed her to continue to create art while bringing in a steady paycheck. 

But Colt didn't like it. His law firm also turned to the work-from-home model, sticking them together in the same space without any breathing room for days on end. 

Mia hadn't thought much of it at first. They loved each other, had lived together for two years at that point, and were blissfully happy as far as she knew. Time together was precious when Colt could spend upward of seventy-plus hours a week at the office. Having him home every night, having dinners together, and time to binge a little television sounded like heaven.

Until it wasn't.

Within months, he grew waspish, snapping at her for working on the kitchen table, taking up too much space, and playing her music too loud. When he began to berate her for her art supplies and how she couldn't just hog an entire room with them, Mia thought the stress of the pandemic had gotten to him. 

Six months in, and she couldn't do anything right. 

He'd always been a little critical, commenting on her clothes, hair, or makeup, but whenever she called him on it, he would say he was trying to help her better herself. She needed to act a certain way and dress a certain way. She needed to look like she belonged if she wanted to accompany him to company outings or galas. 

A backward view granted her twenty-twenty vision at the giant walking red flag that was Colt, but Mia was too blind to see it at the time. And with Covid riding the world like a jockey whipping the last-place finisher on race day, Mia was stuck. 

Plus, it was only stress. Or so she convinced herself. 

When Colt's return to work order came, she was relieved. Maybe now she would get her Colt back, the sweet guy who brought her flowers and called her at lunch every day to hear her voice. 

She didn't. 

Colt only grew worse. Instead of just criticizing her, he yelled, screamed, and punched walls. 

In hindsight, she should have left right then, but Mia kept chalking his actions up to stress. People changed with the pandemic. Life got harder. Money got tighter. Maybe she could do more, be better, try harder. 

It wasn't until he grew indifferent that she realized she'd lost him. Finding the messages on his iPad that proved his cheating only confirmed what she already knew. 

But Mia had nowhere to go. She didn't make enough money to get a place by herself when rent in her area was at an all-time high. She tried to take on more work, but so many people had the same idea as her when the pandemic struck that the transcription industry was flooded with workers. She even applied for jobs around town, but none paid enough. They wanted her to work for pennies for less than full-time hours, so they didn't have to pay benefits. 

She was barely scraping by on helping with the rent. It was a crapshoot, and she knew it. So she bit her tongue; she stayed in her loveless relationship even as Colt's indifference grew into resentment, anger, and, finally, violence. 

The first and only time he hit her, they were in the middle of an argument where she finally told him she knew about his cheating. He went quiet, scarily so. His face drained of colour before it rushed back in, painting his skin crimson as he lunged and slammed her into the wall, screaming at her for dragging out their relationship when he could have been with his new flame all this time. 

The fist to the temple put her on the ground, knocked her teeth together, and set her ears ringing. But Mia was tougher than she looked and Colt was too stunned by what he'd done to stop her when she staggered to her feet, grabbed a side table lamp, and threatened to use it on him if he didn't leave. She screamed at him to get out and not come back, to go be with his new girlfriend if he wanted her so badly. 

There was some minor back and forth, but every time his eyes darted to the blood and darkening bruise on her face, guilt flashed over his. Eventually, he left, but not before telling her she had forty-eight hours to get her shit out of his house.

Yeah, his, because he asked her to give up her lease and move into his place years earlier. 

She slammed the door in his face, threw the lock and added the security chain for good measure. Then, on a wave of regret, grief and humiliation, and feeling stupid and utterly hopeless, Mia sat on the floor and cried until she sobbed, heaved, and almost threw up. 

At that point, she wondered if she had a concussion, but there was no way she was leaving the apartment to find out, unsure if he would come back and toss all her stuff over their balcony in a fit of supreme assholery. 

Colt could no longer be trusted. 

Instead, she cleaned herself up, got an ice pack, and sat down to figure out what she would do in the next two days with what amounted to no job, no friends, and no family to help her. 

Colt was once her best friend and family, the only one she really needed, and Mia found making friends difficult. She was neurodivergent, which was great for creating art but made maintaining lasting friendships difficult when it was easy to forget they existed for two or three weeks. People eventually got tired of reaching out when she never reached back. It wasn't that she didn't want friendships, but sometimes the worlds in her mind demanded all her time, energy, and focus to the extent that nothing else existed. Everything else could fade away, even Colt. 

The only thing that remained was Him.

Mia glanced at the altar near the window. It wasn't much and Colt always teased her about her weird religious practices, but Mia ignored him. She was a Norse Pagan with strong leanings toward Lokean practice. Yeah, she worshiped the God of Mischief, but not the one in some comic book or movie. Her God was real. She knew it, felt it, and relished his attention when it came. The how and the why of it all were a long story, but she'd followed the path most of her life. 

Even now, his voice whispered Colt wouldn't go unpunished, but Mia only sighed. "I think we've punished each other long enough." 

She'd used him for a place to live, trapping them in a loveless relationship. Did that excuse him for hitting her? Fuck no! And if Loki wanted to exact retribution for that, she wouldn't stop him. But she needed to figure out what to do about right now.

The pile of discarded mail tumbled off the kitchen island, and a brown legal envelope skittered across the floor to run point first into her bare toe. The sharp little jab made her grunt.

"That's uncalled for, you know," she muttered, even as she picked up the envelope.

Mia hadn't bothered to look at it when she got it from the mailbox, assuming it was something for Colt, but finding her name and that of a law firm she'd never heard of on the return address label caused her to frown as she tore it open. 

The first thing to fall out was a set of keys that looked like they were from a Jane Austin novel. Second was an old black and white photo, gone sepia with age. Third was a package of papers with a crisp white envelope paperclipped to the front.

The photo was of an old house, not quite a manor but bigger than a cottage, with a man and woman and three small boys standing out front. 

She set the photo and the keys aside, glanced at what looked like a lot of legal jargon, and plucked the letter from inside the envelope. The words swam together a little, causing concern about concussion again, but the more she read, the farther her jaw dropped.

"How the hell do I own an estate in Scotland!?" And not just a house, but land, properties, and money—an obscene amount of it.

Loki's wicked laughter echoed in her head like an eerie breath of wind. 

Telling the Mischief God to piss off, Mia made a phone call. 

In a whirlwind of information, delivered by what turned out to be a very nice - though thickly accented - older man who she had clearly woken up, Mia discovered a heritage lost to her when her parents died in a fire when she was eleven. 

She would never know whether it was the headache throbbing behind her eyes, the pulse of blood in her bruised temple, or just the shitty day piling up. Still, she sat on the floor and cried for the second time, causing the poor man to exclaim in alarm, demand to know if she was alright, and absolutely lose it when Mia lost her mind and told him everything. 

Fergus MacDougal - because, of course, that was his name - informed her that he would take care of everything. He asked if she were safe to remain in the apartment overnight, to which she nodded before realizing he couldn't see her and replied yes. Colt was unlikely to be back before she was due to be out. Neither wanted to see each other again. They'd already said things they couldn't take back.

Fergus appeared to breathe a sigh of relief before telling her she was to pack her belongings, anything she wanted to bring with her immediately in one pile and everything she wanted to be shipped later in another, and be ready when the car called in the morning.

Stupidly, Mia asked, "What car?"

"The one to take you to the airport, lass. We'll have you across to us in a blink. You do have a passport, yes?"

Stunned, Mia again nodded before giving an affirmative grunt. 

His laughter was like warm honey, thick and rich, rumbling in her ear before telling her to text him if she needed anything and hung up.

She sat staring at the phone for long moments before a gentle push from a kind hand knocked her from her stupor as Loki whispered, Pack your things, girl.

Mia looked up, almost expecting to see him crouched on the sofa like a raven, beaming at her, his red hair braided back from his face and threaded with feathers, but there was nothing. 

She rose on shaky legs, dumped the thawed ice pack back in the fridge, dug three Tylenol out of the medicine cabinet and brewed a pot of coffee. She had work to do. 

When the car called in the morning, all her art supplies, paintings, and works in progress were packed and waiting. She found all the boxes she needed in the building's recycling, ran out of the apartment long enough to buy tape and grab something to eat, and spent the rest of the night packing up her life. 

When morning dawned, she looked at her small piles of boxes and fought the burn of tears for what felt like the hundredth time in only hours. 

Going through her things, clothes, jewelry, even the DVDs, she realized how little of it she wanted to keep. She had no mementos, nothing from her past, and hardly any photos. Everything in the apartment was Colt's or something he bought her. They were all things Colt wanted her to wear, how he wanted her to look, how he wanted her to act. 

Mia left it all behind. She took what little she'd brought with her five years ago and left the rest in garbage bags to donate. 

Lastly, she wrapped and packed Loki's altar. The crystals, feathers, bowls, toys, statues, and altar cloth went in a small wooden box she carefully covered in bubble wrap, placed in the box with her meagre collection of books, and taped shut. 

In her backpack, her laptop, chargers, the envelope from the lawyer, wallet and passport were ready to go. 

She spent the last two hours cancelling everything she could think of and informed the landlord she was leaving. She wasn't on any of the utility bills or the lease, but she did change all her passwords before submitting a request to remove her name from their joint bank account, though she didn't touch the money. 

It was exhausting, and by the time the movers knocked, Mia was ready to drop. 

She opened the door to find a man in his later years, sixty to sixty-five, with white hair and crinkles around his eyes. His smile fell from his lips as his gaze zeroed in on her temple, and Mia's hand flew to her face. 

He stepped toward her and slowly grasped her wrist, drawing her hand from the black bruise and mildly swollen eye. 

"Is this the first time?" he demanded gently.

Mia lifted her chin and stared him in the eyes. "And the last."

"Do you want to press charges?"

Air tickled her ear, and a growl that could be mistaken for thunder rattled the windows. 

"It's being taken care of."

She didn't know what he saw in her face, but the arch of his brow and slight quirk of lips said he believed her. 

Afterward, it was a whirlwind. She wasn't sure how many men there were, but they had everything - which wasn't much - carted up and off, though she insisted on taking the last box she packed and her backpack herself. 

Sebastian, the white-haired man in the cashmere coat, Armani suit, and red-soled shoes she didn't even want to guess the price of, insisted on carrying the box for her. As it wasn't heavy, Mia relented. He was a spry, fit man who filled out his coat with broad shoulders but had a grandfatherly quality that set her at ease. 

While the movers took her things, he explained Fergus called him, asking him to see Mia safely onto the plane. As they were partners in a global firm of lawyers, he was happy to help, but when he saw how little she had, he instructed the movers to put everything onto the truck for the plane. They may as well send it all with her now. 

Mia listened, but everything was a wall of sound and movement; nothing made sense, and if she didn't get horizontal soon, she would pass out and fall down. 

Sebastian, seemingly aware of that fact, ushered her into the elevator, out the front, and into a limo, shocking her again when she was met with a wall of heavenly scent. Fresh coffee and sweet baking. He placed one of each in her hands, and she ate by remote as the car pulled from the curb. 

Sebastian continued to talk, asking her questions about her art, having clocked the easel - likely to keep her awake - as they headed for the airport. When they arrived, Mia frowned because they didn't stop at International Departures but passed it to the private terminals. 

"I don't understand," she murmured, too tired to hide her confusion. 

"You didn't think Fergus would put you on a commercial flight, did you?" Sebastian chuckled, helping her out of the car when it stopped beside a private jet. 

Mia stared at it, then looked at him in exasperation. "Who the hell are you people?"

Sebastian laughed. "The question, my girl, is who are you for Fergus MacDougal to call in numerous favours to get you out of that apartment and across the world in less than twenty-four hours'."

"I… I don't know," Mia whispered. The weight of what she was doing on an impulse suddenly hit her and caused her knees to shake. 

Reflect, Loki whispered in her ear. 

Her knees firmed, and she lifted her chin. "But Leonard da Vinci once wrote, 'I love those who can smile in trouble, who can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by reflection.'" She turned to Sebastian and held out her hand. "It's time for me to grow brave. I appreciate your help."

He grinned and shook his head. "You're an interesting woman, Miss MacAlasdair. I wish you good luck in your future endeavours."

She smiled and squeezed his hand. "I don't need luck. I have something better."

"Oh? What's that?"

Mia glanced at the plane when a flash of red caught her eye, only to find a black raven on the open door. "Mischief. And someone who can use it looking out for me."

Sebastian's smile quirked a little like she'd confused him, but he didn't ask, just ushered her to the foot of the stairs where the wide eyes of the flight attendant said Mia looked as bad as she felt. 

But she would smile through her trouble, gather strength from her distress, face her reflection and grow brave. She wasn't sure about this, but no one said she had to go to Scotland forever. 

She climbed up the stairs to stand in the open doorway where the raven remained and turned to take in the city skyline with the sun rising to cast an orange glow over the buildings. Mia had the sinking feeling it would be a long, long time before she returned to Canada. 

The bird was gone when she looked up at the raven again, but that didn't surprise her. Loki came and went as they pleased. It was a long flight to Scotland, and the deity she worshipped wasn't happy with Colt. And if that growl at her former apartment was anything to go by, neither was Fenrir.

Retribution would be swift and cutting. 

A pang of pity tried to swell in her gut, but Mia stomped it out. Colt made his bed when he hit her. Loki was going to make him lie in it.

She nodded a final time to Sebastian, walked onto the jet, and set her backpack and box on the couch before falling into a chair. When she fumbled to do up the seat belt, the flight attendant hurried to help her. 

"We'll be taking off as soon as they load your things," she murmured. "Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, juice? Some ice?"

Mia sighed. "Does it look that bad?"

The woman winced. "Sorry. I wasn't trying to imply-"

"No, I'm sorry," Mia interrupted. "It's been a really long sixteen hours. If you have any, ice would be great, along with some Tylenol or Aspirin."

"Sure thing," she smiled. "I'll get that right away. Once we're at altitude, if you would like, you can move to the bedroom and sleep."

Mia's jaw dropped. "There's a bedroom!?"

The woman laughed. "Oh, honey. You haven't seen anything yet. I'm Ginny. Your pilots are John and Rhys, and we'll see you safely across the Atlantic. Once you're rested, I'll put together something more substantial than pastries and coffee for you, but let me get you some juice, painkillers, and ice. I'll be right back."

"Wait! How did you know what was in the limo?" Mia asked.

Ginny grinned. "Mister Vass always has coffee and pastries in the car for his morning drop-offs."

"So they do this a lot?"

"Rescue women and spirit them away to Scotland? No, I'm pretty sure this is a first," she chuckled and hurried off.

Mia frowned a little but couldn't dispute it. They did rescue her, though she hated being the damsel in distress, and vowed right then to find a way to repay Sebastian and Fergus for their kindness. 

She glanced at the window and caught a glimpse of her reflection. Even in the glass, she could see the heavy bruising and sighed. 

She reflected on her relationship. It had grown so toxic, so heartless. They'd been hurting each other emotionally for a long time. Neither was without blame, though she didn't excuse him hitting her. But she needed to close things on her terms. She didn't want to leave anything unsaid and wanted a clean break without contact.

The pain of the breakup had yet to come, but she knew it was simply a matter of time and distance. 

Instead of thinking about it any longer, she dug her phone out of her backpack, noted it only had ten percent juice and sighed. She'd forgotten to charge it overnight. Still, it was enough battery to do what she needed and opened her text messages. 

Colt, 

I'm out. You can go home whenever you want. I've taken only my things - what I brought with me when I moved in, and my art supplies - all of the clothes, shoes, and accessories are in garbage bags for you to do with whatever you want. If you're going to get rid of them, at least donate them to Goodwill and don't throw them away. The landfills don't need that kind of burden. 

I can't forgive how things ended. I could have lived with the screaming, cursing, and even berating because I did know you were seeing Mindy for almost a year, and I stayed because I had nowhere else to go. I used you for a roof over my head, which was selfish of me, but you hit me, which is unforgivable. 

I don't want to hear from you after this. You were my best friend, my family, the only person I had left to turn to. The pandemic and subsequent fallout were brutal on everyone, but you changed. You turned into someone I don't recognize anymore. I hate who you've become. 

I hate that we stopped talking about us, the wedding, our hopes and dreams. I don't know when you stopped loving me, I don't know when I stopped loving you, but somewhere along the line, we did stop. Maybe if Covid hadn't happened, we would be blissfully happy and settled down. Or maybe Mindy would still be in the picture, I can't say, but it doesn't matter now. 

I'm done, Colt. You broke the last bits of my faith in you when you punched me in the face. Nothing you can say will make up for that. Nothing you can say will ever make me walk back into your life. 

We were toxic to each other. Maybe apart, we can figure out how to be happy again. 

Even now, I hope you find your happiness someday, but get help with your temper. You were never like that before. 

For now, don't contact me. I don't want to hear from you, see you, or speak to you for a while. My world crashed and burned last night. 

I need to start over. 

I need to figure out how to do that. 

I need to figure out a future without you in it.

Mia.

She hit send, saw it was delivered and received only seconds before her phone died. Mia sighed and shoved it back into her backpack. 

She'd look into charging it later.

Next Chapter

[clovercoin]

CloverCoin April 2023 Art Pack n Updates

[ ART PACK AND PATREON POST ] A pretty small art pack this month, so much... has happened? Just as soon as we think we'll be able to go back to the routine, our world blows up in a whole new way. I really can't seem to catch my breath. So big updates... Let me think here. In early April prov's father got covid either in the nursing home or at the hospital. He degraded very quickly and passed away a week or so later. We spent a lot of time offline speaking with Prov's family and making plans for them all. As we started to wrap up the family plans, Prov's work laid off a lot of people. Unfortunately Prov was also laid off. So we are currently on the job hunt but feeling really positive. I've been hoping we'd move on and.. well it just happened! So we're doing it! Prov I'm sure will have a new job in no time at all, he's quite the catch when it comes to web development!  Is that it? Nah!!! Of course not. During mid-april we noticed I started to skip meals, sleeping a lot more but not getting rest, just a lot of issues. Turns out my newly crowned tooth actually needed a root canal and I have an emergency ortho visit! I am officially all done getting my root canal and crown all patched up. I'm feeling so much better and sleeping/eating just fine again! PHEW!!! At least my bit had a positive turn around even if the bill was bigger than we'd like. Last thing to wrap up is our oldest dog Ollie seems to have some sort of respiratory infection so we've been the vet and got him on some antibotics. He's still coughing but he's doing a lot better. At the exact same time, our biggest dog Junior split a nail and it sadly got infected. Soooo another vet trip and some more antibotics (and a couple more big bills nooo). Junior is feeling so much better and his nail is healing right up! The very last update is for the patreon! HEY EVERYONE OF THE 5$ TIER AND UP HI, I'll be taking over personally for merch mail out. Because we had a hiccup in bill pay, I was not able to order the new stickers yet. But I will be ordering them on Monday/next week hopefully so there will be a sticker mail out this month but it might possibly be a little late. I will keep you all  updated about my journey as I figure it out! I will also be posting silly updates about getting my work space put together here on patreon so feel free to follow along and laugh at what a trashy mess I am!!! WISH ME A LOT OF LUCK EVERYONE I REALLY NEED IT THIS MONTH!!!! AJD . ART

[noxtivagus]

i miss playing ffxiv :<

[taechaos]

A Thriller Film

pairing: director!Jungkook x fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, yandere, smut

synopsis: Jungkook's life is his movies, but people don't know his movies are his life. As an anonymous director, no one can suspect him as the villain in a story, but he leaves a clue in his movie about you.

warnings: smoking, stalking, murder, solo masturbation, public fingering

word count: 5.4k

a/n: i don't know why i put so much effort into this but we love to see it flop 🥰

Smoking is bad, but there are worse things in life.

Jungkook noticed you for the first time when a cigarette was hanging off his lips, exhaling the stress from the process of organizing a new thriller film with a less than cooperative crew. Fresh out of high school, you were bright and skipping on the sidewalk in the early hours of the morning. What would such a young woman, applying for colleges left and right, be so happy about?

He didn't know you at the time, but looking at you was like a breath of fresh air. While he survived off of coffee and nicotine, you seemed to have a lot of happiness to share. Your smile was incompatible with his frown.

So he ignored you when you passed him with your earphones blasting a song so loud, he involuntarily caught the lyrics.

Fall... back... in... to... place.

The second time he saw you, he was smoking again and you were just as happy as the day before. How can someone be so in tune with themselves, with life? The same song played from your earphones, the one he listened to on repeat after searching up the lyrics: Space Song. An urge to approach you surged up in him, but he only watched you as you walked past him. A single glance from you was all it took to anticipate tomorrow.

Today, when he recognizes you from your clothing first; colorful, silky, gorgeous. So much personality in one outfit, a polar opposite to his casual black outfit in jeans and a plain shirt. Even your bag is eye-catching, and he flicked the ash off of his cigarette before nodding at you as you passed the bus stop, reaching the front of his studio.

Why did your eyes just widen? You acknowledge him with a friendly smile, and go on your merry way. That is until he lightly taps your shoulder, and you turn instantly.

"Hey," he greets before you can utter a word, "where are you always rushing off to?"

Your lips part in surprise; the man you secretly - guiltily - side-eyed for the past few days noticed you when you weren't looking? "I have an interview. Well, a few," you chuckle.

"For what?" he tilts his head curiously and takes another drag from his stick.

"Career counseling," you plainly reply, but it sounds enthused. "I'm a clueless graduate." Your hands clutch your tote bag before you discreetly check the time on your wrist. You're going to be running late soon.

"You interested in cinematography?" Smoke follows his words, but you aren't fazed.

"I'm interested in all forms of art, why?"

He notices you checking your watch again. "I'm a film director. This is my studio," he cranes his neck behind him. "You can apply for an internship here. Maybe for a stylist even," he points at your floral romper with his chin as his eyes trail.

You shift your weight on your left foot when his stare flusters you, and you consider his flattering suggestion for only a second before saying, "thank you for the offer, but I need to go now," you grimace sheepishly, "can I think about it?"

"Take your time," he reassures with a sly smile and inhales from his stick, filling his lungs with the sweet scent of your perfume alongside.

He doesn't look away when you walk off with a shy wave, entranced by your struts until he's called back in. It's with newfound inspiration that he's inside of his studio.

The storyboard of his upcoming project needs a few tweaks, and he doesn't fail in enhancing his crew with a different idea.

It’s been a week. Okay, it might’ve been shorter, but Jungkook is impatient. Besides, it didn’t help when he saw you holding hands with someone... so less than. It really baffled him to see you with a guy who wore such shabby clothes. He looks like the type that Jungkook would cast for a flop character.

The two of you are like a toy display across his studio in that cutesy, obnoxious café with a smoothie in the middle of your booth. He chuckles as he lights up another stick when he notices the two straws in the single cup. Cliché, cheesy, but cute in a childish sense. Your age shines through the amateur romance between you and that loser.

It especially shows when you look to the side with a laugh and lock eyes with him; so flustered that you gasp and focus back on your date. What makes you so shy about seeing him? You seemed so confident during your conversation two days ago.

He whistles when he notices a stray dog in an alleyway. You look at him as well but don't hear anything beyond the glass wall, but it catches his attention regardless. He whistles again before saying in a hushed voice, "come here girl." It's difficult to suppress a smile when you gaze at him questioningly, as if trying to decipher his words. "Naive little girl," he mouths as he smokes, "what are you doing with that boy?"

He almost chokes when you take out your wallet in front of a waiter; are you paying for him? That's why you ordered one drink - so you could share? Jungkook isn't cruel but, he finds it laughable that your boyfriend is so... unappealing. He can't help but wonder why you're with him; maybe his face? The boy is somewhat handsome, but he only has his facial features to go by. It's rather strange for Jungkook to think about this in the first place, so he gets back inside his workplace after harshly shooing the stray dog away with a stomp of his foot.

"I'd like to start my internship today."

Jungkook runs his eyes up and down your body while leaning against a brick wall. "Paid?"

"I-I'll do it for free. Besides, I don't know if I'll even work in this industry," you twiddle your fingers while smiling up at him. He intimidates you, but this morning you decided you did enough thinking and here you are, an aspiring stylist all of a sudden.

"Get inside," he nods at the door before stubbing his cigarette and following you to his studio. "You know what you're going to do?"

"I'm going to decide the outfits, right?" The place looks cozy to you, with its minimalistic interior design and blunt switch between the stories. The first floor is strictly for business, with lined up cameras, lights and a microphone. There is even a green screen! And the second floor seems to be more of a resting area with its couches and open laptops, but you can't make out much from the entrance. Jungkook starts walking ahead of you, making a beeline for the black stairs. You tail behind him and smile at anyone who notices you, which isn't a lot of people. It's not crowded.

"Right. We're still working on a storyline, haven't finished it yet so it's possible this project might not be published. You with me so far?" he glances at you, and at your firm nod, continues, "when we finish planning, scripting and shit, you come to play."

"So what do I do now?" you innocently inquire and watch him plop down on the red velvet couch. He clicks on the space of his keyboard to light up his screen.

"I have an idea for a character, and I want to know how you would design her," he vaguely explains as he scrolls through his document.

"You want me to sketch it or explain?"

"Let's hear you out first. Irene," he suddenly calls out loudly.

"Yes?" a female responds from downstairs. You see a woman with a grey cap look up at him, her attire nothing short of casual.

"Come here."

She skips a few steps while climbing up the stairs at his command. You're not awkward when you greet her, and she offers a coy smile.

"This girl - what did you say your name was?" he asks you. You tell him and he continues, "she's going to be our intern. I want you to critique her with me."

"What's she in for?" Irene asks before sitting across from him.

"Wardrobe stylist."

Her eyes widen as she takes a second look at you. Your style is definitely unique, but... immature. She has half the mind to not question Jungkook about his choice.

"Okay..." she trails. "I'm Irene, by the way. I'm going to be an executive producer for the upcoming film."

"Nice to meet you," you brightly chirp. "Sir?"

Jungkook smirks at your addressing of him. "Yes?"

"What is your name, if I may ask?"

"I'm Jeon Jungkook, but you may know me for my pen name Shin Dong-hyuk."

Your mouth falls open when you instantly recognize the name. "Wait, what? You directed My Time?" you incredulously wonder aloud.

My Time is a movie that took the world by a storm; it brought recognition to the whole country for its popularity and clever writing. You never knew the name was a pseudonym, however. It's a suspense genre, about the life of a crazed fanboy who is obsessed with a foreign celebrity. He stalks her on the internet, has a fanpage of her and pays a hefty amount of money to strangers to update him on her whereabouts. He's portrayed as a young college student in the story, and inevitably runs out of cash from reckless spending. When she gets into a dating scandal, he goes on a theft spree and flies out to meet and confront her. It ends with her murder when he finds her with another man in a hotel room, and he stabs himself in the heart afterwards. There are a bunch of clues that foreshadow his ending, from his family life to his friendships. It's an amazing thriller, and you researched his name in the credits to find more of his works after seeing the movie but to no avail; there is only one listed.

"That's me," he nonchalantly reveals as if he didn't just give you the shock of your life. "Don't tell anyone though, will you?"

You whimsically put on an imagery zipper over your mouth while trying to recover from your racing heart.

"I don't have a clear outline, but the female lead is going to be naive but charming. She has to stand out, alright? Happy, extraordinary, special."

"We didn't decide on that," Irene butts in with a displeased expression.

"I forgot to tell you, I deleted our previous plan."

"You did wh-"

"What do you think?" he turns to you as he ignores Irene's shrieks. "What color are you imagining?"

You feel nervous when he puts you on the spotlight after revealing his identity. You close your eyes with a deep inhale before answering, "I'm thinking red and green, like Christmas. There should be a hint of white as well."

Jungkook drinks in your outfit before grinning mischievously. "Perfect." All of your colors.

Stalking is bad, but there are worse things in life.

Is it such a bad idea to follow you home when it's dark out? He kept you for a long time in the studio, allowing you to dress up a mannequin with all sorts of costumes you had in mind in the backroom. He's certain you had fun with him when you left with a permanent grin on your face.

You live with your parents, and he knows for sure he's at least 5 years older than you. You look about 19, so he's assuming he's only 8 years older.

A small villa with windows all around, he observes, before glancing back at your bedroom. The lights are on and you're swinging your legs with excitement on your bed after you face planted on the mattress. He didn't see you greet your parents before running off to your room, and he can't help the smile growing on his face at your hyperactivity. It was like an instinct to walk you home in secret and he isn't sure why he is still watching you. He should look away when you get off of your bed and heave your shirt over your chest, but instead he steps away from the lamp post to hide from the light.

You're changing, and he can't take his eyes off of you. As if that wasn't enough, you unclasp your bra without even pulling the curtains. Do you know he's there? The thought excites him, and his pants begin to tighten around his crotch. He lowly whistles at you, but you don't hear him again. You do look outside for a few seconds while stretching your arms, however, and he's certain you have a connection to him.

He leaves when you put on your pajamas with the image of your bare tits imprinted on his mind. He doesn't head home first, as the studio is only a few minutes away from your home and he wants to leave you a gift.

When the familiar building enters his vision, he doesn't waste time in unlocking the door and switching on a single dim light. He rushes to the backroom after locking the entrance for a second time and unzips his jeans as he goes. You were here not too long ago, and he can pinpoint exactly where you stood while striding to each corner with purpose. Bending, crouching, leaning, doing just about anything to tease him.

Now that he can imagine your perky nipples realistically, he immediately takes out his length from his restraints and picks up a random handkerchief to pump himself with. He doesn't stop to think over his actions; he's acting on urges, on impulse. Never has he ever done something like this.

He's rather relaxed as he sits down on an idle stool to close his eyes and run his hand up and down his shaft. What he would do to press your tits against his cock while he slides it up and down, smearing his cum all over your lips while you sleep. You would swallow it without a second thought once he finishes in your gaping mouth, and wonder why there's a dull ache in your breasts the next morning.

His breaths grow shallow the faster he strokes himself, the more he thinks about using every part of you for his pleasure while you're knocked out cold. He involuntarily thrusts into the air while quiet moans slip out of his open mouth. Something about how taboo it would be to fuck you while you're unconscious turns him on so much. Would that be something you're into?

The handkerchief is so soft, so silky against his length, he can almost imagine it to be your hand. He starts twisting his hand around his cock, from the base to the tip as his other hand palms his balls before he begins to reach climax. Strings of cusses fall out of his mouth when he quickens his pace, the fabric against his skin resounding in his ears before he finally spurts out his cum into the cloth.

"Fuck," he exhales as he coats his makeshift glove with his release. White on white doesn't make much of a difference, and he's panting as he folds the handkerchief to rub it evenly so it sinks in completely.

He leaves it on the stool after zipping his pants, and his eyes twinkle under the moonlight on his journey home.

You aren't alone when you walk to work. Jungkook is taking his usual smoke break while watching you swing your interlocked hands back and forth with the guy next to you. Your smiles exude the same aura, and Jungkook sarcastically notes how compatible the two of you are. The boxy grin shines with the sun, but it doesn't hide the boy's worn out clothes.

"Good morning, Jungkook," you greet before introducing your boyfriend. "This is Taehyung, Taehyung meet Jungkook. I'm going to be under his wing until I decide my major."

"Hello, Taehyung," Jungkook coldly says before blowing smoke in his face.

Taehyung scrunches his nose before chirping, "hi!" He then turns to you and whispers, "I thought you wanted to study medicine."

You shake your head dismissively with a light laugh before responding, "it's just an internship." You let go of his hand and bid farewell with a peck on his cheek before going inside the studio.

"Well, have a good day," Taehyung smiles as he's about to leave before Jungkook holds out his hand to block the way.

"Taehyung, who is your girlfriend?"

"Um," he furrows his brows before saying your name.

"And who are you?"

At Jungkook's blunt question, Taehyung pauses and takes a step back. "What do you mean? Like my full name?"

"No, who the fuck are you? What is your contribution to society? What do you do for a living? What are you wearing?"

"Sir, I-" Taehyung's stammering is cut short when Jungkook asks, "how much money for you to stop leeching off of her?"

He scoffs, "excuse me? I'm not leeching off of anyone, and I'm sure as hell not breaking up with her for your money." Taehyung's face heats up from the shameless confrontation, and he starts walking in the opposite direction.

"So you're not going to leave her?"

Taehyung doesn't turn to look at him as he emphasizes, "no."

"Good."

He abruptly stops in his tracks. "What?"

"Your dedication is admirable," Jungkook comments with a shrug. "I'm satisfied with your answer."

"Were you testing me?"

"Bingo."

He starts chuckling before shaking his head. "I always knew directors were crazy; you scared me for a second."

"Where you headed now?" Jungkook smoothly switches the subject, but notes the fact that you've spoken about him to your boyfriend.

"I have a farm two blocks away." When Jungkook raises a brow, he explains, "I stayed the night with her, so I decided to drop her off before leaving."

"Want me to drop you off?"

It's a kind offer, really, but Taehyung is still put off by the insults thrown his way just a minute ago. Doesn't he have work to do anyway? "That's alright, thank you, but I'll just take the bus. Have a good one, Jungkook."

Jungkook doesn't stop him as they both wave goodbye. He doesn't bother putting out his cigarette before going inside.

Where would be a farm only two blocks away from the city center? It has to be a lie.

You're wandering around the place as to not awkwardly wait for Jungkook who sharply inhales at the sight. He calls your name.

"Yes?"

"What do you want to become?"

"I," you look at him funny with a laugh, "I still don't know."

"Then take a gap year."

Your brows shoot up to your hairline. "Why?"

"I want you to be invested in this project completely. Once the planning is finished, I'll give you a salary. What do you think?"

He's asking you to work full-time for him. Not as an intern, but an employee and you are beyond willing after only being here for two days. He's a famous director; how can one pass up this opportunity?

"I'd love that."

You noticed that Jungkook has a very unique way of working. You've heard that he's been keeping his crew until late at night, already having an outline for his plot and he's moved onto screenwriting. He apparently disappears randomly throughout the evening after you leave, and you've had some different experiences with him of your own.

He asked you to steal from the wardrobe of his backroom. "Take everything that you'd wear," he said before stepping out of the room.

When you confusedly compiled all of the clothes that caught your eye under your arm, he took them from you and brought them upstairs with a huge grin. "Keep that one," he pointed at the handkerchief you thought about lacing your neck with.

Taehyung's quiet with you. He doesn't respond to your texts, doesn't call you, doesn't come over. You're too busy spending time with Jungkook to check up on him, and it serves as a well distraction when you keep glancing at your notifications. It hurts, especially when your wallpaper is a picture of you and him. It hurts because he isn't with you in your proudest moments when you were with him even at his parents' funeral.

The only thing keeping you happy is casting. Jungkook asked you to make a list of all the actors that would suit his characters after giving you a vague description of their traits. The budget isn't an issue, and you're having so much fun. He makes you forget your worries without even trying.

Jungkook intimidates you, but he's so lovely.

A mere "aspiring" stylist is casting actors for a movie. How many people can brag about that? You almost stumble on the stairs as you quickly climb up with Jungkook's laptop in your hands. He gave it to you for research purposes as he drew a rough storyboard with Irene.

"I made a list," you exclaim brightly. Heads shoot in your direction and you sheepishly grin at your volume. Jungkook's eyes linger on your covered neck; it's almost like a collar.

He whistles and beckons you to sit next to him. You obey and anxiously present your list to the professionals; you have no idea how to go on about this task, and no one guided you. You're certain you look utterly amateur in front of them.

Irene is inspecting your list without hinting her thoughts as Jungkook asks, "who are your favorites?"

"Well, I think Kim Namjoon is um, suitable for the male lead's role and Joy-"

"It's decided then," he claps his hands twice without hearing out Irene who scowls at him.

"You're not cooperating with us," she voices in a complaint, "why are you always calling the shots on your own? These are major decisions-"

"Ms. Bae, don't take any offence now. I'm taking your opinions into accounts when I make these decisions. Unless you have an issue with something, let's not dwell on this, hm?"

She sighs as you stand there awkwardly. She's upset, but stays silent.

"The two leads are Kim Namjoon and Park Soo-young. The team will decide the rest of the cast, thank you," he informs you with a ghost of a smile.

"Of course," you breathe.

You don't know how long it is supposed to take to shoot a film, but surely it's not this fast paced. Jungkook is relentless with his production; there are hardly any breaks in between takes. There are bags under his eyes from pulling all nighters to work on his scripts.

He is a perfectionist and a hard worker, as you've come to find out. You feel bad for the amount of times the actors recited their lines when they didn't capture a scene right in Jungkook's eyes. It was an honor for you to meet these famous people beyond a screen, and you were strictly ordered to do Joy's makeup only. You are her stylist, but the professional one does help you after she's finished with Namjoon's.

"Cut," Jungkook says into the speaker. You're located in a rented mansion outside of the city, but you can't enjoy it when everyone is so stressed. "Start over from line "he's leeching off of you"."

Even actors can't hide their annoyance from having to do a 25th take of one scene. Jungkook pays them enough to go on with this torture however, so they have no room to complain.

They start over and you force yourself to watch them again and again.

"Oh my god, cut!" You can hardly resist groaning yourself. Everyone on set is overworked, and you know the director has it the worst, but it's overwhelming you too at this point. You flinch when your name is called. "Act Joy's lines, will you?"

"Me?" you point at yourself in surprise.

"Go ahead," he urges with a nod.

You have no idea how to act, and it's nervewracking having to do it in front of A-listers. You pick up the script handed to you from another woman and start reading:

"He's not leeching off of me," you pause to inhale shakily; your hands tremble from the heavy stares on you.

"I'm his family, the only one he has left. No one would know if he was gone, and he trusts me to look after him without having to dangle a dollar bill over his head."

This goes on until the final scene, and the retakes cut down to half.

A few months pass, and it is time for the premiere. The movie, simply titled Pretty Girl, easily got a green light for display in theatres, and it's been heavily promoted on YouTube and TV. You are excited to your core, and watching the celebrities walk the red carpet was a first for you. Jungkook easily blends in with the crowd as he once again didn't reveal his real name in the credits, but his pen name is gaining more and more recognition. You have never seen the movie throughout the editing procedure, but you can't wait to see everyone's efforts show on the big screen.

You're dressed fancily because Jungkook asked you to go with him, and the two of you are sitting in the crowded theatre with not a single empty seat to be seen. Even the entrance is decorated in retro style to fit in with the movie's theme! The jazz music playing in the halls reaches your ears, and your knees are bouncing in anticipation of the movie. Jungkook is smiling as he listens to you ramble.

"I can't believe I played a part in this whole project!" you gush with shaking fists. "I met the best director I know, and I worked for him! This all feels like a dream... No one even likes my style, and yet I became a stylist!"

"I love your style," he denies, "even now you have all the attention in the room."

"Pfft," you roll your eyes playfully, "they all think I must look weird. I tried to wear something classy so I don't stand out, but it hasn't been working out."

"Keep it that way, you're beautiful like this."

Heat creeps up to your cheeks at his compliment and you squeak, "thank you."

He doesn't get to relish your flustered state as everyone goes quiet once the movie starts.

The time period is unclear, as the language is modern but the filter is black and white. The first scene is in a bar, a man in a suit eyeing a woman with a date who is an outcast with his clothes. They're washed out and ugly, but he looks handsome with his dazzling smile at the woman.

An involuntary grin spreads across your face when you hear their dialogue.

"I want to touch someone's shoulder to see how they react. Did you see how they looked at me when I walked in here? I think they think I'm your sugar baby or something," Jimin's character jokes with a laugh.

"I know! They're all so boujee, but I'm willing to be your mommy without sugar," Joy winks. They have fun until Jimin leaves to the bathroom and Namjoon's character approaches her, who has been staring at her ever since they walked in. Joy is offered a modeling career, and she accepts after she's told that her fashion only works with her because of how beautiful she is. She's bashful when Namjoon gives her a business card.

Jungkook's film is only over an hour long, but everything is timed so perfectly. His directory is straightforward, and you admire his work until a song comes on.

"That's my favorite song!" you whisper into his ear. It's Space Song by Beach House.

"Mine too," he whispers back.

There are montages of photo shoots, Joy's rise to fame in the modeling industry, but the trouble is Jimin, her boyfriend. Namjoon confronts him one day when Jimin drops her off to her new workplace.

"How can someone so poor be able to court a woman like her?" he asks rhetorically.

"Excuse me, Sir?" Jimin is offended until Namjoon laughs it off and reveals it was a joke. The audience sighs in relief, and all is fun and games until Jimin is brutally murdered next to a dumpster. You gasp at the gore scene and glance at Jungkook, until something dawns on you.

The story is starting to sound familiar. Was this movie inspired by your encounters? Your eyes light up as you give your utmost attention to the movie. The line between reality and fiction is beginning to blur.

Joy goes to Namjoon's house, where the dialogue you first reenacted comes to play. The shots are gorgeous, the script filled with metaphors on poverty and currency, and the romance is sickly sweet. There is a sex scene not long after... Joy forgets all about her boyfriend in the snap of Namjoon's fingers.

You tilt your head when you remember Taehyung. Where is he? How come your boyfriend didn't even show up to this life-changing experience?

Jungkook's hand slides over your thigh out of nowhere, as he murmurs, "do you mind?"

You stammer when his fingers reach under your dress to poke at your panties. "S-Sorry?"

"I said," he grazes your folds as you tense at the feather light touch, "do you mind if I touch you, pretty girl?"

Your chest heaves as your lashes flutter in a daze, but you nod nonetheless. His low raspy voice already has you clenching your thighs, unintentionally trapping his hand against your pussy. He's gentle, almost curious with the way he runs his fingers over your silky underwear before he moves it to the side. You're shivering with delight and thrill, and you don't take your eyes off of each other as he begins to flick your clit carelessly.

"Looks so pretty on you," he compliments the makeshift choker on your neck. It's his handkerchief you wore for the occasion, unaware that it's dried with cum. He pulls on the knot like it's a collar, and you're entranced. Your pants fan his lips at the close proximity, and he doesn't shy away from slotting his mouth against yours. You quietly moan into the kiss when his thumb starts to rub your clit, and his long finger pokes at your entrance.

"You mind?" he murmurs against your lips, his words slightly slurred as he doesn't stop kissing you. The wet noises are drowned out by the loud volume of the movie, but you can't focus on what's going on.

"I don't," you breathe before he slips in two fingers, exploring your walls with precision. He's multitasking as he circles your sensitive clit, and you're not very experienced in regards to sexual encounters but your hand lands on his hard-on anyway.

"Don't be shy," he chuckles into your neck, "touch it."

You don't know what you're doing when you slip your hand under his pants and palm him over his briefs, but his sigh is encouraging you. You're touching each other in a room of 100 people.

It's embarrassing when his free hand joins yours to help you touch him while simultaneously fingering you. He must have sensed your lack of confidence, because he starts to stroke his erection over your hand. You start to imagine his fingers as the real thing, and with your particularly low stamina, have a hard time suppressing your whines.

"Kiss my neck," he suggests as a solution to your nibbling. You didn't even realize your nether lip is bleeding from how hard you were biting on it. You bury your head in his shoulder and start pecking his neck. He holds back a laugh at how shy you're being, and he feels proud for predicting this moment perfectly in the movie. Joy is having the time of her life with Namjoon, unaware of Jimin decaying in the attic.

He quickens his pace in your cunt, and you bite him rather harshly at the sensation. He hisses with a chuckle; he likes it when you're impulsive. He can pick up the squelches from his thrusts because of how wet you are, and you climax all over his fingers in a matter of seconds with a whimper. You're twitching in your seat, and your hand strokes him faster but he stops you.

"In my studio," he says and you nod tiredly against his shoulder. The issue isn't that he doesn't want to cum in his pants, but the movie needs to become reality. He wants to fuck you on that one stool, with Taehyung's corpse decomposing in the backroom.

Jungkook always adds a pinch of fiction to his stories, but they're mostly based on true events. If you paid attention to the ending, maybe you would've realized that.

Lying is bad, but there are worse things in life.

[carry-the-sky]

Kastle + 2 for the touch writing prompts 💕

based on the prompt: a touch with relief

also on ao3

shout out to @onebatch2batch and @ninzied 💕

.

She’s late.

Frank’s eyes dart to his phone. Screen’s dark, same as it was when he glanced at it a minute ago. No missed calls, no texts. He swigs his coffee, more to swallow down the muted panic in his throat than anything else.

“Fresh cup for your friend, honey?”

Frank looks up. The waitress—Jo, her name tag reads—is nodding at the mug of coffee he ordered for Karen when he got here.

His eyes linger on it a moment before he shakes his head. “I’m good, ma’am. She’s, uh—she’s on her way.”

Frank must look as keyed-up as he feels, because Jo offers him a gentle smile. “You got it,” she says. “Just holler when she gets here, okay?”

Then she’s walking off. Probably assumes he got stood up by a date, and hell—he almost wishes that��s what this was. At least he could shrug that off, carry on with his day instead of sitting across from an empty booth, chest slowly going tight with dread.

Frank pushes back from the table, forces himself to breathe. Maybe something came up at work—a deadline got pushed up or a source backed out last-minute and Ellison’s got her holed up at the office doing damage control—

His hand twitches for his phone. They’ve been meeting for lunch pretty regularly for the past month or so, but Karen always shoots him a text the day before to confirm. He scans her last message in their thread—Tomorrow still good? Same place as last week?—and something in his chest twinges. Maybe it’s an occupational hazard, or maybe it’s just her way of making sure he won’t bail—either way, Frank can’t blame her. He’s far from atoning for the way he left things that day at the hospital. It’s a small miracle she let him back into her life at all.

Frank’s eyes flick to the time at the top of the screen. It’s going on twenty past the hour. Hell with it—maybe he’s being paranoid, but his gut says something’s off. He hits the call button next to her name.

It goes straight to voicemail.

His pulse stutters. It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean—

He tries her again.

Hi, you’ve reached Karen Page. Please leave your name and number and I’ll get back—

Shit. Frank swipes over to his contacts, scrolls until he finds the number for the Bulletin’s front desk.

“New York Bulletin,” a cheerful voice answers on the second ring. “How may I direct your call?”

“Is Karen Page in?” he asks, straining to keep his voice steady.

He knows what the answer will be, but it still lands like a gut-punch when the receptionist tells him that Ms. Page is currently out of the office. His hand is shaking when he hangs up.

Jo is making the rounds again, and Frank doesn’t miss the sympathetic glance she shoots in his direction. He takes a deep breath through his nose, slow and steady to counter the hammer of his heart. He needs to focus, think.

Hanging around her office is a non-starter—he’s let his beard grow out, but his face has been plastered across the front page enough times that the damn receptionist would probably recognize him now. He could try Karen’s place on the off chance she ran home—

Frank’s fingers twitch against his phone. He should get up, move, do something other than sit here with this familiar tension cranking up his sternum. One thought spins on a turntable in his head—something’s wrong. Something’s wrong. He let his guard down, let himself breathe for one goddamn second, and now—if something happened to her—

The world narrows, tilts like a kaleidoscope. He needs air.

He’s dimly aware of standing, tossing a few bills on the table before he’s out the door. The street is thick with noise—people laying on their horns, distant sirens, someone shouting. He focuses on each individual sound, anchors his breath to the steady thrum of the city around him.

He’s not sure how long he stands there—a few minutes, maybe. Long enough for his vision to stop swimming, for the pounding in his ears to subside. Long enough to register his phone, buzzing in his hand.

Her number’s flashing across the screen.

Frank fumbles to answer, almost dropping his phone in the process. “Karen, hey—”

“Frank,” she replies, and relief floods his veins at the sound of her voice. “I’m so sorry—my phone decided to automatically update right as I was leaving for lunch, and then when you didn’t show—I was getting worried.”

He frowns, trying to process her words. “Where—where are you?”

“Sal’s. Why, didn’t you—” she pauses. “Wait, did you go to Cinco’s?”

Frank turns her text from last night over in his head. Same place as last week. They definitely grabbed lunch at Cinco’s—he’d ordered extra steak fries with his burger, just to let her swipe a few from his plate—but, shit, that’s right—they’d swung by a new place afterwards for dessert, some local café that had just opened.

We should try this place for lunch sometime, Karen had said in between bites of her raspberry scone. Frank remembers the dusting of sugar across her upper lip, remembers the small heart attack it gave him when she’d licked it clean.

“Think there might’ve been a misunderstanding,” he tells her now, cheeks warm. Karen just laughs in response as it all clicks together, and Frank lets the sound wash over him, the warmth of it dissolving the tension in his chest. She’s laughing. She’s okay.

“Lesson learned,” she says. “Be more specific. And make sure the phone isn’t going to update.”

“Wouldn’t be a problem if you had one like mine.”

“Not a chance. There’s old-fashioned, and then there’s prehistoric.” There’s a beat of silence, and he knows she’s smiling on the other end of the line. “Listen, I have to head back early today, but are you free for lunch tomorrow? I owe you some fries from Cinco’s, at the very least.”

“Works for me,” Frank says. “Sure you don’t wanna write that down, just to be safe? That’s C-I-N—”

“Shut up, Frank.”

It’s his turn to grin. “Tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow,” she echoes.

He stays on the line until she hangs up, weightless with relief even as his blood still hums with adrenaline. It was just a miscommunication—but when his eyes squeeze shut, he’s right back in that hotel watching Lewis drag her into the elevator, praying to whoever the fuck was listening that she’d still be breathing when he got to her.

He knew, even then, what it would mean to lose her. Lose her without her ever knowing—

Make it mean something.

About damn time he did.

.

Karen’s waiting for him when he gets there the next day, sitting in the same booth he was. Her eyes snap to him as he pushes through the front door, and then she’s standing, and somehow before he’s fully aware it’s happening, he’s pulling her close, burying his face in the slope of her neck, breathing her in.

She’s warm. Her arms cinch around his shoulders, drawing him in even closer, and he smells something floral, soft and clean when her hair brushes his cheek. They stay like that a moment, holding onto each other—then she gently pulls back, and the loss of contact aches like a bruise. As he slides into the booth across from her, it’s all he can do to keep from reaching for her again.

Jo comes by with coffee, gives Frank a wink that could be seen from outer space as she slides Karen a mug. When he ducks a glance at Karen, she’s pressing her lips together like she’s trying not to smile.

“How long were you sitting here yesterday?” she asks.

Frank grips his own mug tightly to keep his fingers from shaking. “Not long. Felt like—longer than it was.”

He tries to keep his voice light, but he never did have a very good poker face. And they don’t do that. They don’t lie to each other.

When he looks again, Karen’s face has softened. She reaches across the table, rests a hand against his forearm. “Frank—”

He recognizes her tone of voice, knows she’s about to apologize for something that’s not her fault. After all his bullshit, everything he’s put her through—she’s still the one telling him she’s sorry. She’s still all heart. The ache in his chest digs its roots in, blooms until he can hardly breathe.

“Hey.” He tilts his head to catch her gaze, holds it. “I’m good. Yeah? Might chuck your phone in the Hudson first chance I get, but—”

He’s hoping the jab will pull a smile from her, and it almost does. Her mouth crinkles at the corners. “Still,” she says. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

He just looks at her—eyes bright and blue and open, and shit, he’s gonna kick himself for the rest of his life for taking his sweet time telling her exactly what she means to him. He slowly turns his arm until his hand grazes her wrist, her palm, and then he’s threading his fingers through hers.

“I’m always gonna worry, Karen. I know you can handle yourself, that’s not what—” he cuts off as she gives his hand a gentle squeeze, swallows thickly before saying— “You’re the most important person in my life. You’re everything. I’m never gonna not worry.”

Now she’s smiling, mouth curved like a moon as she looks down at his hand in hers. “You mean that, Frank?”

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get off my ass about it, but—this thing, Karen, you and me—if you’re in, I’m in. I’m all in.”

He’s not sure it’s happening until it’s happening—one second Karen’s leaning across the booth, the next her lips are on his.

He barely has time to process the softness of her mouth, the warmth of her hand cupping his jaw, before she’s sitting back, looking as stunned as he feels.

“I take it back,” he says, a little hoarse. “What I said about your phone. Damn thing should update every day.”

Karen just laughs, and they both lean in again.

[dearestgojo]

Summary: Even the people that are most in love can fall out of it. But what do you do when one of is still holding on to what once was and isn’t willing to let go while the other lies to themselves about their own feelings. And what lies have led to the downfall of what you once thought was perfect.

A/n: Thank you all for being patient while I finished writing this part. I've changed my updating schedule so that I can free up more of my time to do other things I enjoy to updating on Saturday, Sunday, or Monday's.

Iwaizumi x Fem Reader

Warnings: 18+. Oral female receiving. Vaginal Penetration.

Part 9. Part 10. Part 11. Series Masterlist

Word Count: 6,071

The days pass by slowly, the next few weeks moving by rather slowly. There’s outings here and there, but most of your afternoons and days off were spent in the comfort of your home. Hajime is never too far from you.

The more time he spent with you the more it felt like he was trying to make up for something. He’d been even more attentive of your needs, and if you were being honest it was starting to annoy you. There were times where you thought you’d tear his head off.

Like right now, while he’s laying on his side, glued into your side on the couch, his head in the crook of your neck. His fingers are slowly rubbing circles into your side, trying to get you to relax into his arms. The light from the television painting your white walls a variety colors across the living room, you try to wiggle out of his hold only to be pulled back in. His nose brushes against the shell of your ear when he moves so that his head rests on the top of your chest, and he shifts his weight so that he lies on top of you, keeping you in place.

“Where are you going?’ His voice is gruff, eyes dropping as he fights off sleep.

You're almost tempted to run your fingers through his hair, to hold him close to you, but that nagging feeling and emptiness in your chest stop you. “Bathroom...need to pee.”

You feel him sigh heavily before hesitantly letting you go. Swinging your legs over the end of the couch you get up and walk up the stairs and to the back of the hall to the restroom. Closing the door you turn to look around the room. You didn’t need to use it, you just needed an excuse to get a break from Hajime.

You look around the small space, the plants adorning it adding some life to the room. Sitting on the toilet seat you grab one of them, noticing how the leaves are changing colors from a dark green to a yellowish brown color. You had never been a plant person, the bathroom was the only room in the entire house to have living plants, so you didn’t really know what was wrong with the plant. Wasn’t that funny? It was as if your current sentiments for Hajime were sitting on your lap. The dried leaves moving between your fingers, eyes analyzing the leaf, the same way you would probably do if you could hold your feelings in your hand.

A knock on the door startles you, Hajime’s voice, “Hey, are you okay in there?” Irritation builds in the back of your neck and slithers to the top of your head, making your headache. You hadn’t even been gone for a full three minutes and he was already knocking on the door.

Taking in a deep breath you try to control the tone of your voice, “Yeah, I’m almost done. Just watering some of the plants.”

“Okay. Do you want to order in for dinner?”

“Yeah, sure.” You answer, rubbing your temples. The other side of the door is quiet for a while, and you think that Hajime might have gone back to the living room. The sound of the floorboards creaking as he shifts his weight lets you know otherwise.

He’s voice comes out smaller than it had a while ago, “I’ll wait for you downstairs so we can choose a place.”

You stand from the toilet, putting the plant back in it’s spot before walking to the sink to wash your hands, “Okay, I’ll be down in a minute.”

The floor creaks as he starts to walk away. You let out a sigh, when you can no longer hear his steps. Turning on the faucet, you rinse any dirt off of your hands and splash some water on your face. Looking at yourself in the mirror you see a face you barely recognize. You're tired and it’s evident in the way your eyes droop and the dark circles in your eyes.

Letting out a heavy breath you walk out of the bathroom and go back downstairs. Hajime is sitting on the couch, phone in his hands. He doesn’t hear you enter the room, his focus fully on his phone. From here you can see that his hair is slightly longer, and that he has a shadow of a growing beard. He looks just as tired as you.

“Have you found anything?” Hajime jumps at the sound of your voice, but relaxes once he sees it’s you.

“Uh yeah, how do burgers from Lucy’s Place?” He offers you his phone,” It’s a new place, it’s actually pretty close to here, surprised we haven’t seen it yet.”

You grab his phone and look at the pictures, the food looking good enough, even though you're not particularly hungry. “Yeah, sounds good,” you hand him back the phone before sitting down on your spot, and he starts to call to order. Raising your knees up to your chest you go back to watching the movie on the screen, in hopes that maybe Hajime would stay seated in the seat next to you and keep to himself.

You hoped for a little too much, because as soon as he hangs up on the phone he slides next to you arms pulling you into his lap. His chin rests on your shoulder and his arms are wrapped around your waist. That sinking feeling that he’s trying to make up for something returns, and with it the need for space to figure out your own feelings, but it seemed you weren’t going to figure tonight.https://www.interflora.co.uk/content/flower-meanings/

The food arrives thirty minutes later, Hajime leaving you alone on the couch for a moment, allowing you to feel like you can breathe. He comes back and sets the food on the coffee table, turning on the lights, and opening the blinds a bit. You can see through the cracks that the sun is starting to set, the sky painted with light blues, purple, and orange.

He sits down next to you, sighing, “Hey.” You turn to look at him, your eyes meeting him. They’re filled with sadness and...regret. “I know I’ve messed up several times, now and in the past, but I want us to work it out. I want a future with you y/n.”

You don’t know what to say. Part of you screams for you to let go and move on without him. That staying here isn’t worth the pain. And though you want to listen to that side of you, there’s another part that begs for you to stay wrapped up in the warmth, to let go of what you know. It tells you that the world outside of these four walls is cold and unwelcoming. You are not sure what side to listen to, but for now it seems like the safest choice is to stay and figure things out.

“I want things to work out too, Haji.” You can feel the knot swelling in your throat as you continue to speak, “But you’ve been keeping something from me, for so long Haji, that I don’t know if I want to know what it is. And I know the only way we can move on from this, the only way I’ll be able to sort out my feelings, is if you tell me. And I know you won’t.”

Hajime swallows, he looks a bit broken and as if he’s fighting back tears. “I really wish I could tell you y/n.” He grabs onto your hands and thumbs rubbing over the back of it. “But I’m scared that if I do, I’ll lose you. For good.” He brings your hands up to his lips pressing them against them, tears spilling from his eyes and onto your hands and wrists.

You stay like that for several moments, letting your own tears fall from your teary eyes. You slowly take your hands out from his, having lost any appetite you had you stand up, and with a heavy heart you start to walk away.

“Then I guess we’ll never truly move past this for as long as we’re together, and if truth eventually comes out this relationship will burn. And you along with it.”

~

Hajime’s sitting at the edge of the sofa, the game controller in his hands, and the sound of guns going off on the screen fill the living room of Hiro and Issei’s apartment. His eyes are focused on the screen, fingers tapping on the buttons on the controller. Hiro was seated beside him, a blunt in between his lips, eyes hazed over from the weed. Issei had left an hour ago to buy more beer and meet Toru on the way back.

“So what are you doing here? Have another fight with y/n?” Hiro asks, blowing out a puff of air through his mouth and nose.

Hajime’s jaw clenches, he didn’t know whether or not to call what had happened a fight. All he knew was that he was now more painfully aware of the growing distance between you and himself. “No. Just wanted to hang out with you guys. It’s been several weeks since we all last hung out.” Hiro just hums, blowing more smoke out.

The sound of the door opening grabs their attention, and they turn to see Issei walking in with a six pack of beer. Toru isn’t too far behind carrying a bigger box of beer with him. Hajime turns back to the television after nodding at Toru as a greeting.

“So what are we- really dude are you already high?” Toru plops down on one of the bean bag chairs, shaking his head at Hiro.

“I’m not high, just buzzed.” Hiro answers, the redness of his eyes telling differently.

“Yeah sure, and I’m Chris Evans.” Toru shakes his head, his eyes turning towards Hajime, “Hey didn’t expect you to be here, thought you’d be busy.”

Hajime doesn’t miss the accusatory tone of Toru’s voice. He turns to look at him, “What does that mean?”

Toru opens a can of beer, taking a sip before answering, “Nothing,” he takes out his phone and unlocks it, pulling up his gallery, “just that you would be busy with your side piece.” Toru gently tosses his phone to the coffee table. On the screen there’s a picture of Hajime with Hina, it’s zoomed in enough where you can see Hina crying. “There’s another one in there, from a few weeks back.” Hajime scrolls to the next picture. This one is one of Hina and him on the week he had spent with her, shopping at one of the convenience stores. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, an arm wrapped around her shoulders.

“Did you really think people wouldn’t find out?” Toru laughs, his hand wrapped around Hajime’s hand. “I think that at this point, y/n is the only one who doesn't know, and it’s such a shame because she deserves someone better than you?”

Hajime pulls on the collar of Toru’s shirt, “Like who? You?”

“Maybe.” Toru yanks Hajime’s arm from himself, “And now that you mentioned it, I’ve actually liked y/n from the start, and if I had gotten a chance I would have made a move on her and never cheated on her.”

It all happens quickly after that. Hajime lifting his arm and making a fist. Issei tries to move across the room as quickly as he can but he doesn’t get there in time, Toru loses a bit of balance when Hajime’s fist hits his jaw. Hiro is sitting on the couch a little shocked, the argument somehow sobering him up a bit, and he scrambles to get up from the couch.

Toru rubs the red spot on his jaw, tasting blood in his mouth. He laughs a bit before throwing his own punch and hitting Hajime on the nose. Hajime grabs on to Toru’s shirt when he loses his stability, making them both fall to the ground. They continue to roll around on the carpeted floor, hitting each other wherever they can. Hiro and Issei stand and pull on their shirts, doing their best to pull the two apart, receiving a few hits themselves.

Issei manages to grab a hold of Hajime’s waist and pulls him off the brunette, blood dripping from his nose. He has a busted lip and an eye that is starting to swell and that’s bright red, slowly changing into purple.

“Fucking stop!” Issei throws Hajime’s body against the couch, rubbing the bridge of his nose while Hiro stands beside Toru, hands on his shoulders keeping him from lunging at Hajime.

“I didn-” Hajime starts, only to be interrupted by Issei.

“You don’t get to talk. What the fuck is wrong with you! Do you know how lucky you are to have y/n in your life. Do you know what any one of us would do to have someone like her? You’ve basically been her entire world from the very start, and you go and pull this shit again. I get that the kiss was an accident, but this Hajime! This! I fucking can’t believe you! What the hell was going through your head!” Issie runs his hands through hair. “Fuck man.”

Hajime tries to swallow the lump in his throat, the room becoming tense. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Hina was just there and she didn’t stop being there. I really don’t know what happened, but it’s over. I swear.”

No one answers for a while, all their eyes on him. None of them know what to say, they never expected this to happen, never expected Hajime to consciously cheat on you. All three of them have the exact same thought running through their head. She would’ve been better off with me.

“I can’t look at you right now.” Issei turns and walks towards the front door and opens it. Hajime stands from the couch and walks out, getting the message that he’s not wanted here.

He gets into the car and drives to the one place he feels comfort from. The one place that warms his chest.

~

You're a little shaken when Hajime walks in through the door, he looks a little disoriented looking around the living room until he spots you walking out of the kitchen. You’re wearing one of his shirts, and your hair is put up into a messy bun. He walks over to you and his lips crash into your in a heated kiss.

Tongue sliding against yours and teeth bumping into yours. His hands cup your face, keeping you in place. At first you don’t respond, a bit taken aback by his neediness, but slowly your lips start to move against his with hesitation.

He pulls back to look at you, his eyes darkened with lust and something you don’t recognize. “What’s wrong Haji?”

Hajime hands slide through your hair, a hand coming down to grip your elbow to pull you in closer, “Nothing. Just need to feel you close.”

It’s how fifteen minutes later you find yourself on your bed completely bare, with Hajime head buried between your thighs, tongue lapping at your folds. You feel a bit buzzed, your mind feeling lighter and your breath is becoming ragged. “Ha-Hajime it’s too much.” Even as you try to get him to slow down, your hips raise off the bed and your orgrasm courses through your body.

Hajime takes everything that you give him. Tongue never stopping once, and his eyes looking up at you to watch you fall apart. He uses his hands on your hips to keep you pressed against his mouth. Only letting go when your legs are trembling from the overstimulation.

You're trying to control your breathing while Hajime kisses his way up your body, and despite the pure bliss that runs through your body, everything inside of you feels disconnected from the situation. You don’t want to be held, or hold him close, like other times. Your eyes stay focused on the ceiling, hands on your side and not buried in his hair. The kisses that he presses on your skin, don’t spark anything for you. All your body craves is for that euphoric feeling that comes when you come undone.

Hajime’s head is buried in your neck as he slowly pushes the tip into your cunt. His pressing kiss along your shoulders and jaw, small grunts leaving his lips as he slowly pushes in. “Aaah, so good. Mine, mine, mine. Only mine.” He keeps repeating.

You keep your hands on his shoulders when he bottoms out. He’s seated deep inside of you, the tip pressed against your g-spot. The two of you let out groans and whines once he starts to move his hips. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively holding him as close as you could, your hands slowly moving to the nape of his neck.

“R-right there,” You moan when the tip of his cock nudges against that spongy spot inside you. He keeps brushing against it over and over, his head remaining in the crook of your neck. His right hand is gripping on to the pillow beside your head, his moan getting heavier, and his balls slapping against your ass. You can feel him twitching inside of you, hand traveling between your bodies to rub on your clit.

Tight circles and pinches pushing you closer to your release. You can feel your legs start to shake, and the coil about to snap. Raising your own hips to meet his thrusts, eyes glued to the ceiling. You let out a silent cry when you reach your orgrasm. Your nails are digging into the back of Hajime’s hair.

He’s own release finds him half way through yours, warm liquid filling you. Once he’s done he pulls out and falls onto the bed. There’s sweat on his forehead, and his breathing is slightly labored. One of his arms covers his face while he recovers his breathing. You lay on the same spot, his cum spilling in between your legs, eyes not once looking away from the ceiling.

The ding from your phone grabs your attention, and you reach for it on the nightstand where you had left it charging before Hajime got home. There’s a number from a private number, for a second you think it’s the same from the photo you had received, but remember the other number had been marked as ‘unknown’. You sit up on the bed, pulling the sheets to your chest, before opening the message.

“Tomorrow at 1 go here.” an address follows the message with a ‘please be there’ attached. You set your phone back down, looking at Hajime who’s getting up from the bed. You watch as he starts to pull his boxers up his thighs. He looks over his shoulder at you, “Want to shower together?” You nod your head meakley, the message weighing on you, not having a possible clue of who it could be. And if you think about the message all night, praying that it’s nothing. That your suspicions are just that.

~

It’s eleven in the morning when you get out of bed. Hajime’s side of the bed is empty, and cold. You assume that he has been up for a while. Swinging your sore legs over the edge of the bed, you get up and change into something comfortable. Walking down the stairs the smell of fresh coffee and eggs hits your nose. Peaking into the kitchen you see Hajime standing at the stove.

He doesn’t notice you standing at the door. He flips the fried eggs in the pan, humming quietly to himself. You keep your eyes on him, feeling a slight tug in your heart as you admire him. It was a feeling that you had become unused to, but seeing Hajime in the kitchen brought back memories and stirred the remnants of what was left of them.

You're quickly brought back to reality when he’s phone vibrates. He’s shoulders become visibly tense and the humming stops. He steps the phone down a bit roughly, making you wonder what the text was about.

Deciding to let your presence be known you walk into the kitchen, greeting him, “Morning.”

He turns to look at you over his shoulder, “Hey, how’d you sleep?” All the tension he had a moment ago disappears when he’s eyes meet yours.

“Yeah.” You take a seat at the table, letting Hajime serve you a plate of eggs and sausages. He sets the plate in front of you before turning to make you a mug of coffee. “Any plans for today?” You ask, taking a bite of a slice of sausage.

Hajime puts the mug on the table, beside your plate. He doesn’t answer right away and takes the seat in front of you, his own mug in his hands. “Yeah. I have to meet someone later.” Hajime doesn’t seem happy when he tells you this. His eyes glaring at the coffee he has his fingers wrapped around. You eat your food in silence before washing the dishes together.

The next hour is the two of you on the couch. Your fingers tapping on the arm, chewing on your nail. Wondering if you should or shouldn’t follow him. Twelve thirty comes around and Hajime gets up from his spot. He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be back later okay.” You nod your head and watch as he walks out the door.

Tapping your fingers more rapidly against the armrest you wait till you hear the sound of the engine starting and disappearing down the road. Getting up from the couch you grab your keys and walk out the door. Taking in a deep breath you pray once more, that this isn’t leading to where you think it is. Your phone buzzes and you open it to see a message. ‘See you soon ;)’

You follow from two cars behind, trying not to lose sight of the back of Hajime’s car. You recognize the buildings and roads that pass by, noticing how you're getting closer and closer to the hospital. A road that you’ve become accustomed to from years of working at the clinic. The traffic becomes less dense the closer you get, forcing you to fall behind a half a block. You slow down when he turns into the parking lot of one of the clinics that sits on the other side of the hospital from the one you work at. Waiting for him parked on the street across until he walks inside.

You don’t recognize the building, it was one of the ones you never made trips to, one of the other receptionists always coming down because her boyfriend worked inside. Opening the hospital directory, you look up the address of the clinic. Orthopedics.

Furrowing your eyebrows you look up at the building. Why would an unknown number ask you to follow your boyfriend to an orthopedic clinic. Sure Hajime seemed to be in good health, and as a trainer he took care of his body, and as far as you knew he hadn’t injured any of himself while working. You tap on the steering wheel, chewing on one of your nails.

You keep your eyes on the entrance to the clinic, waiting for him to walk out. Minutes pass by and nothing happens. Your back is starting to hurt from sitting for so long, and the car has stopped blowing cool air, the heat from the sun making you sweat. Starting to feel annoyed from being crapped up in such a small space, you get out of the car.

You lean against the car door pulling your phone out, and rereading the message. The letters ‘Private Number’ and a line of unsent texts stare back at you. You let out a sigh, dropping your arms to your side.

What were you even doing here? This all could end up being nothing. Hadn’t he told you he wanted things to work out? That would mean he wouldn’t do anything to make you doubt he’s devotion to you right?”

Your question is answered when you see the top of his head over the cars. He’s stomping his way through the cars, he’s arms falling around while he argues with the person behind him. The closer they get the more he and the person behind him become visible. You see the top of a curly haired bun when Hajime comes into view, him stopping to turn back and argue, keeping you from seeing the person.

Crouching behind your car you attempt to move closer to them to get a peak. You're still farway that you can’t hear what they are saying, and that they can’t see you. Moving to the next car over you get a better view.

You feel your heart stop in your chest when you see Hina standing close to Hajime. Her hands reaching to cup his face, she pulls close to her face before pressing his lips against his. Everything around you seems to stop, your world fully shattering around you. You were having a hard time wrapping your head around what your eyes are seeing. You get up from your hiding place and go back to your car. You're not sure where you're going or who you can talk to, so you start driving to the one place that brings you peace and reach out to the one person who has been the only one to make you feel anything other than broken.

~

Outside the window of the cafe there’s clouds starting to form, and you find irony in how the weather was showing how you felt inside. There’s a warm cup of black coffee in front of you, that’s getting colder the more time passes. Your eyes stay on the crowd outside, a couple of people carrying umbrellas. Looking at the top of the heads you try to spot blond hair.

After crying on the way to the cafe everything had become numb. You had composed yourself between the car and the walk to the cafe, dried tears staining your cheeks, and your eyes swollen. The cashier looked like they wanted to ask if everything was okay when you ordered and when they had brought your order to the table where you had quietly sat for the next twenty minutes.

Now you are sitting watching as water droplets start to hit the window and slide down. From afar you can see Atsumu jogging down the street just as the rain starts to pick up. He looks worried, which would make sense since you called him when you were bawling your eyes out.

When he walks in through the door he shakes the water from his hair before rushing to the table where you're sitting. The same place you and he had sat in a few months ago after running into each other.

“Y/n! Are you okay?” He kneels in front of you and cups your face. His expression is filled with worry when he sees the tear stains on your cheeks. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

You can feel another wave of tears falling from your eyes, “H-he’s cheating,” your voice comes out broken and hoarse.

“What?” Atsumu cups your face, thumbs sliding across your cheeks when more tears fall out of your eyes.

“I got a p-picutre and then I got a text last night with an address. I followed him and he was with his friend, who kissed him. And now I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how I should be feeling right now? I know I should probably feel angry, but I don’t. I don't feel anything.” You ramble, Atsumu trying to keep up with what you're saying.

“Hey, hey. I need to calm down a bit and explain everything slower.” His hands run up and down your sides, trying to calm you down so your breathing evens out once again. Atsumu pulls one of the chairs from the neighboring table and sits next to you, once you've calmed down again he speaks again, “Okay,now tell me everything.”

So you tell him about how Hajime had been distant since he had arrived back in Japan, and how you had argued. About the time he left you on your date when he was supposed to be making up for being distant. You tell him about suspecting Grace and how that was thrown out the window when you spoke to her. Atsumu listens about the fights, and how you were left alone in your home while he went away for a week. You talk about the picture and the text. About following him to the clinic and seeing him kiss his friend.

“I didn’t know who else to call or where to go and I don’t know what to do now. He said he wanted things to work out, for us to fix things.” You take a deep breath trying not to start crying again, “But now I don’t know what to do. He’s the only person I have ever loved ‘Tsumu, but everything is so painful and confusing.”

Atsumu pulls you into his arms, his hand running through your hair in a comforting manner. “I don’t know what to tell you. What he did was truly a dickhead thing to do. But I can’t tell you what you need to do, that’s up to you. Whether you stay or go it’s all up to you.”

And you stay like that, letting Atsumu console you in his arms. His hold letting a sense of peace wash over you, and easing the hurt in your chest. And you know that once you regain control of your emotions you’ll be able to think things more clearly, and speak with Kagami and Ayumi about your decision. You wanted to make sure you would make the right choice.

~

Hajime wasn’t sure what he had expected when Grace had asked him out to meet with a few of her friends his second year abroad. He was hopeful in making a few new friends to distract himself from the workload of school every once in a while, but he somehow felt that the crowd of people around him was rowdier than what he had foreseen.

All he could think about was going back to his dorm and calling you. You who were probably either sleeping or busy on a Saturday. You were probably working on your school work. He couldn’t even concentrate on what the person in front of him was saying, his mind plagued with thoughts of you.

The only thing that drew him out from his thoughts was when the front door to the restaurant opened and in walked in a girl with shining brown curls and sparkling hazel eyes. Hajime hadn’t really taken much interest in her as much as the rest of the people at the table, many of the other men greeting her and complementing her. Telling her how great she looked.

He didn’t even spare her a second glance when she took the empty seat next to him. Didn’t listen to anything she was saying to the people around her, all he could think about was you. You and your bright smile. You and your warm hugs. You and your sweet kisses. You, you, and you.

A tap on his shoulder is the only thing that draws him out of his thoughts. He turns to see the girl smiling brightly at him. “You’re in Brown’s nine in the morning class right?” Hajime nods. “Me too, I’ve seen you sitting in the front during class. I usually sit in the back so you probably don’t recognize me.” She keeps trying to make conversation with Hajime throughout the rest of dinner, ignoring the other men in instances who try to get her attention.

Hajime would admit that he felt a little in awe at how beautiful this girl in front of him was. Loose curls that framed her small facem and full lips that were bright red. She wore clothes that showed off her figure that was curvy. Her breast filling out the cleavage of her shirt, and pants that hugged her waist and hips. Hajime would be lying if he said he hadn’t looked whenever she would lean in to whisper something to him about someone on the table.

Hajime checks his phone halfway through finishing dinner and sees that it’s almost time for you and him to facetime before you go off to bed. He starts to excuse himself from the table and ask for his bill. He leans in to Grace who’s on his other side of him and whispers, “Hey I have to go. I’ll see you later.”

He stands when he feels a small hand wrap around his wrist. Hajime turns to see a pair of Hazel eyes looking up at him,“Hey can I have your number.”

Hajime hesitates at first, but remembers that he came here to make friends which he hadn’t really done. And she had been the only person who had talked to him at the table, it would be rude if he left her empty handed. “Sure.”

“I’m Hina by the way” She smiles as she hands him her phone so he can put in his contact information.

“Hajime.” He hands her back her phone which she takes with a smile on her face.

“Nice to meet you Hajime.”

The next time he shows up to class, he sees a familiar head of curly hair seated next to the spot it typically sits at. She looks up as he’s making his way to the desk, her eyes never leaving him once. “Hey, nice seeing you again. I noticed you didn’t text after you left last week.” It’s the first thing she says when he sits in his spot.

Hajime feels it would be rude if he didn’t answer, and he looks at her. She’s wearing less make-up than she had the first time they met, but she’s still done up nicely with a more neutral tone of lipstick, and no fake eyelashes. “Had a busy week.” He wasn’t lying when he answered. He really had a busy week so much that he wasn’t able to facetime with you, between finding a job and studying he had next to no freetime.

Hina doesn’t get a chance to say anything more because when she opens her mouth to speak again, the professor walks in and immediately does roll call. For the remainder of the semester she sits by him during that class, the only class they share. Sending him text to hang out, that for ninety percent of the time he declines unless Grace is tagging along. During these meetups Hina would always make sure to stick close to Hajime, speaking only to him.

Hajime would do his best to ignore the advancements, trying to stay close to Grace. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable with the attention he was receiving from the beautiful woman, but it was the fact that he was enjoying it a bit when you were back at home. He couldn’t ignore them after she finally confessed to him one day on the way out of Brown’s Class, and it was only then that he did what he knew he should have done from the start.

“I have a girlfriend.”

“Okay. Doesn’t mean you can’t have girls that are friends. And no one says anything has to happen between us.” She says swinging on her feet a bit. “And long distance can cause problems sometimes.” She whispers to herself. Turning to smile at Hajme, “Plus isn’t Grace your friend? Just because I told you I like doesn’t mean you have to stop talking to me.”

Hajime thinks her words over. Something in the back of his head telling him that she was right and that nothing had to happen even if she did confess. “I guess you're right.”

As days and months passed, she kept finding ways to crawl under Hajime’s skin. Always around. Always brushing small touches on his arm. Until he became intoxicated with her. His mind now not only flooded with thoughts of you but of her too.

General Taglist: @fushigum @sadtrains @rinsangel @hollowpurpl@semieitasleftthigh @mvttsvn @chaotic-fangirl-blog @tirzamisu @fiona782 @fairybnha3 @sashatanaka @sunascumdoll @jojowantstocry @iwaizumis-bitch @rory-cakes

Haikyuu!! Taglist: @milkteeboba @caramelcandescence @qualitygiantshoepsychic @premiyagi @silsparkle

BLCTKU Taglist: @Sakusasbitch @ks-kitten @bluecatton

[reinerispretty]

warm hands. (mako x f!reader) rewrite.

hello everyon!! a while ago i wrote a request called warm hands that got deleted by tumblr when i tried to edit the post on mobile :/ i’ve been on this hellsite for years and it still sucks but ANYWAY. as a thank you for supporting me and also as an apology for not updating lmao i wanted to repost a better version i wrote <3 much love to u and to mako

She turned to the man standing just a few feet away from her, surprised at how familiar his face had looked. His jet black hair, thick eyebrows, and golden eyes were from somewhere, but (Y/N) couldn’t place if she had dreamt about someone like him or had actually met him.

It would bug her the rest of the day if she didn’t say anything to him, so she had. “Excuse me,” She said, lightly touching his arm to get his attention. “Sorry to bother you, you just look really familiar to me.”

He had stared down at her silently, his brows furrowed, and in normal circumstances (Y/N) would have felt absolutely mortified...

There were dozens of libraries within Republic City, yet so far none of them had what (Y/N) was looking for. She had spent her entire day off trekking through the busy streets and bustling sidewalks, hailing cab after cab until her resources ran just low enough where she would have to be very picky about what groceries she picked this week. Sweat dripped down the back of her neck as she walked toward her destination. Summer was in full swing and it felt like the sun was after her specifically. She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. So far, she had visited fifteen libraries, and was walking up the steps of the very last, hoping that someone inside would be able to help her with her request.

She passed through the double doors and was met with a rush of cold air that sent a chill down her spine. She must look ridiculous, she thought, as she approached the information desk. An old woman was positioned behind it, her back hunched over a book. She hadn’t heard (Y/N) approach, so the young girl rang the bell that set on the counter. The old woman jumped back, a startled expression on her lined face.

“I’m sorry!” (Y/N) exclaimed, then clasped a hand over her mouth. This was a library, she had to watch her volume in here. “Sorry,” She said again, her voice lower. “I was wondering if you could help me with something? I’ve been looking all over town for books on firebending and I can’t seem to find any.”

“We’ve got some!” The woman chirped, seeming to have recovered from her startle. She rose slowly to her feet and grabbed her cane. “Although they’re not technique books, if that’s what you’re looking for. My grandson has a great firebending academy just down the street if you’re interested.”

“Oh, no,” (Y/N) said as she followed the old woman through the enormous stacks of bookcases. “I don’t need any training, I’m just looking for a fact book or something like it.” The woman nodded and silently led (Y/N) to a very dimly lit section of the library. Just as (Y/N’s) feet began to ache from walking, they stopped, and the librarian pointed her cane up at the top shelf. It was out of her reach, but just within (Y/N’s).

“That’s the one you’re looking for,” She said, smiling pleasantly. (Y/N) looked up and found an enormous book, bound in red cloth with the Fire Nation emblem on the side. She reached up and took it into her arms, nearly toppling over at its sheer weight.

“Thank you,” (Y/N) strained herself to say. The librarian nodded once more before disappearing into the stacks of books. (Y/N) waddled herself over to a table in a more well-lit section of the library and sat down.

She had never cared much for bending. Being a nonbender herself in a nonbending family, she had watched indifferently as some of her classmates developed their bending skills. (Y/N) was always able to get through life without bending, so she had never thought of it as something important. Even probending, which rocked the city with its competitions, had never interested her.

(Y/N) sighed as she turned to the first page. To think, she was going to all of this trouble for a boy.

(Y/N’s) older brother had known Mako first, when they were just kids. Both worked for the Triple Threat Triads for a number of years. (Y/N) had remembered Mako as the serious (and slightly intimidating) friend of her brother’s that would stand outside waiting while her brother tried to convince her to cover for him. He might not have been a bender, but he was as strong as a platybus bear for a boy of fifteen, so the Triads made great use of him. (Y/N) had never liked it, but she always lied to their parents on his behalf. Sometimes, she had glared down at Mako from her bedroom window, and it seemed like some nights he frowned right back up at her.

This was all years ago, of course. Once her brother went off to join the United Forces, (Y/N) had forgotten all about Mako. It wasn’t until this past spring that she had seen him again. They had been waiting for their food outside of a soup shop. It had been the lunch hour, so (Y/N) had known they would take a while, but she didn’t mind, because she liked to people watch in order to keep herself occupied. She turned to the man standing just a few feet away from her, surprised at how familiar his face had looked. His jet black hair, thick eyebrows, and golden eyes were from somewhere, but (Y/N) couldn’t place if she had dreamt about someone like him or had actually met him.

It would bug her the rest of the day if she didn’t say anything to him, so she had. “Excuse me,” She said, lightly touching his arm to get his attention. “Sorry to bother you, you just look really familiar to me.”

He had stared down at her silently, his brows furrowed, and in normal circumstances (Y/N) would have felt absolutely mortified to be having this exchange with a total stranger, but something about him was different. She felt calm around him.

“I know you from somewhere, too,” The man said then, a small smile appearing on his face. “Did your brother used to work for-“

“The Triads!” (Y/N) finished, whispering the words excitedly because you couldn’t just shout the name of one of the leading gangs in Republic City in a crowd full of people. “You’re…Mako, right?”

“You must have a great memory, it’s been years since I’ve waited outside your house for your brother to come down.” (Y/N) laughed. “If I remember correctly, you used to give me the evil eyes from your bedroom window.” She smiled.

“That was me!” She extended her hand. “I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to officially meet you.”

“Same here,” Mako said, shaking her hand. “How’s your brother doing?”

“Very well, I think! He’s with the United Forces now, so I don’t hear much from him, but his last letter sounded very promising.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“How are you doing? I’ll have to write to him about you, I’m sure he’ll be so excited to hear it.”

“Oh, I’m fine. Joined the Republic City Police, so I guess I’m arresting the people I used to work with.” He shrugged.

“Beats getting arrested,” (Y/N) offered, and Mako cracked a smile.

“It sure does.” Her order was called from the counter, and (Y/N) scurried over to pick it up. When she returned, Mako had his own food in hand.

“Before you go,” (Y/N) started, and it was like the words would come out of her mouth before she had the chance to stop them. “Would you like to get a cup of coffee with me sometime? I’d love to give my brother a detailed description of what you’ve been up to.” She was never this bold, but it was like something else entirely had overcome her. He was handsome, and it was just a cup of coffee. Nothing too scary.

Mako had agreed to the cup of coffee that week and one cup had turned into three before turning into dinner. It had been nearly eight months since they met and the majority of their free time away from their jobs was spent together. Things were surprisingly easy with Mako. He was a fantastic listener and offered her the advice that she needed to hear. He had a bit of a rough shell on the outside, but (Y/N) worked tirelessly to break through it and revealed a man capable of so much love that she came to learn very few had ever actually given him it in return.

She was always completely lost when he talked about his probending days, but she enjoyed hearing him talk about his youth so much that it had set her on a course of research. (Y/N) was at the library today to better understand firebending. It was part of Mako, and she loved Mako (even if she hadn’t admitted it), so she would learn to love firebending as well.

She read for hours, until the sun had set outside and lanterns were lit within the space. (Y/N) looked up from her book, eyes heavy and dry from reading so many pages. She had only made it about halfway through the book, so she checked out the heavy title from the librarian at the front and made her way home. Mako would be working the night shift that night, so she didn’t have to worry about any interruptions.

---

Mako wasn’t quite sure what had gotten into his girlfriend. (Y/N) couldn’t bend. Not that there was anything wrong with that of course, Mako respected nonbenders just as much as benders (except for, y’know, the Amon thing), but lately (Y/N) had become a walking fountain of knowledge on firebending. At first he hadn’t thought anything of it, but as it continued on he started to sense that something was up.

The first time it had happened was on one of Mako’s days off. He had slept in late even though (Y/N) had promised to wake him up. With disheveled hair and his eyes squinting at the bright late morning light, he shuffled into the kitchen to give his girlfriend a very soft piece of his mind. She was scrambling eggs in front of the stove, turning to look back at him with a smile brighter than the sun. Mako allowed himself a smirk before his face turned stern.

“You were supposed to wake me up,” He had said, his voice gruff from having not been used. (Y/N) shrugged.

“I don’t think an earthquake could’ve woken you up,” She said in her defense. “Plus, you deserve extra sleep.” She had poked him in the stomach. “Firebenders can’t firebend if they’re exhausted.” Mako had chuckled. It sounded like the sort of thing mothers told their children in order to get them to go to bed.

But a few days later, she had mentioned something similar. They had been walking down the streets of Republic City, on their way to go visit Korra and Asami for lunch, when (Y/N) stopped suddenly in front of a store display. Mako jerked backward, unaware that she had paused.

“Do you know what that is?” She asked, looking up at him with an expression that indicated that she was testing him. Mako stared at the storefront.

“A clearance sign?” He questioned. (Y/N) had rolled her eyes.

“Not that,” She sighed, and pointed her finger at the tapestry that was hung in the back of the store. How she had spotted that from the corner of her eye, Mako had no idea, so he shrugged. “It’s the symbol of the Sun Warriors,” She explained. “They were the first firebenders, after the dragons, of course. They’re extinct now, I think.” (Y/N) smiled up at him while he raised an eyebrow at her. He cracked a smile before tugging at her hand.

“I’m about to go extinct if we don’t get some lunch.”

The biggest indicator by far had been the other night, when he was getting ready to leave for work. (Y/N) had sat on the bed as he stood in front of the mirror and buttoned up his uniform. He kept spares at (Y/N’s) place now, since he spent nearly every night there anyway.

She was looking at him with an expression he had never seen before. It was like she was analyzing him. Mako turned around as he finished the last button, but before he could speak, she beat him to it.

“How do you do it?” She asked, and Mako furrowed his dark brows.

“Do what?”

“Bending.” She looked into his eyes at this point and Mako had felt his heart swell. He had a hard time transmitting the emotions that he was feeling inside to his appearance outside. If he could, he would have melted into a puddle on the floor for this girl. In a matter of a few months she had become something to aim toward, to strive for. Catching criminals and solving cases mattered to him, but not nearly as much as returning to her apartment in one piece.

He cleared his throat. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t understand it, you know? How does it happen? Do you just think about it and it happens? Or do you have to focus?”

“A bit of both, I guess,” Mako said. “When you’re first learning, it takes a lot of focus to master a new move. But once you’ve got it, it kind of becomes second nature.” He sat on the bed beside her to put on his work boots. “It’s like writing something. When you were little, you had to think about how to hold the pen, how to form the letters, what the letters meant. Now you just know.”

“Do you have to think about using lightning rather than fire?” Mako shook his head.

“It’s different movements.” She hummed, staring down at her hands as she contemplated what he just told her. Mako checked his watch for the time. “I’ve got to head out.”

“Okay,” She said as she turned toward him. “Be safe! And don’t forget to invite Bolin over for dinner this weekend.”

Mako let out an exaggerated sigh, at which (Y/N) frowned. “I’m serious Mako,” She continued. “I’ll call Bolin myself to make sure you ask him!”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Mako asked as he packed his badge and wallet.

“It’ll mean more if it’s coming from his big brother.” Mako leaned down and cradled the back of her neck with his hand, leaning for a kiss to which she happily obliged. Mako had many favorite things about (Y/N), but perhaps his most favorite was how she smiled into every kiss he gave her.

“I’ll be sure to let him know,” Mako had said as he ran out of her apartment. If he was late again, Chief Beifong would kill him.

Mako contemplated these instances as he walked back to her apartment. (Y/N) had never expressed very much interest in bending, pardoning recent weeks. He wondered what had gotten her so curious. Perhaps she listened to a new radio show that talked about it. Mako never really listened to the radio anymore—he used to, but Bolin talked over all of the stations so he just turned it off whenever he was in the car.

He hadn’t told her that he would be coming back to her place tonight. He hadn’t entirely been planning on it, but one of the rookies was somehow put in charge of the schedule and put Mako and a kid named Lee on the same shift. Considering Mako had the seniority, he had gotten the night off, but not before completing the copious amounts of paperwork that had piled on his desk. It was nearing one in the morning, so (Y/N) would be fast asleep, but he figured she would enjoy seeing him again. Or at least, he hoped so.

To improve his chances of not facing the wrath of disturbing her slumber, Mako stopped by a late night dessert shop and picked up some of her favorites before returning on his way. When he finally opened the door to her apartment, Mako was unsurprised to find that every light was off, save for the light that peaked underneath her bedroom door.

Mako took his shoes off at the front and dropped the desserts on the kitchen counter before quietly making his way to her bedroom. (Y/N) lay curled up underneath her covers, fast asleep, with the biggest book Mako had ever seen lying beside her. He lifted the heavy book into his arms and thumbed through the pages. Each and every chapter was about firebending. Its origins, its practices, and its faults. Mako smiled to himself. So that’s how she had become a walking encyclopedia.

He changed into his pajamas and slid into bed beside her. Startled, she opened her tired eyes and furrowed her brows at him. “Chief let me go early,” He whispered to her, reaching over her body to turn off her lamp. “Go back to sleep.”

Instead she moved closer to his body and took his hands in hers. “I was reading,” She whispered slowly, as if her brain was cranking back to life. “That firebenders can control the heat in their bodies.” She placed his hands just below her bellybutton. “My cramps are really bad tonight, can you—”

Mako pulled her into his body and kissed her shoulder, spreading his hand wide so that it would cover as much surface area as possible. She hummed as she felt the warmth emanating from his hands. “Thank you.” After a few minutes, her even breathes indicated that she was asleep.

Mako wondered then if he had been the reason that (Y/N) had a newfound fascination with firebending. While he was a great detective, he was absolutely clueless. She had gotten a whole book about firebending, had shared her knowledge to let him know that she cared about something that she had never cared about before. Mako pressed his face into the crook of his neck to hide the wide smile that no one would see.

(Y/N) wanted to know more about firebending because it was part of who he was. No one had ever taken such an interest in Mako’s passions. He had figured before, but was now certain, that he loved the girl in his arms so, so dearly.

---

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[youarejesting]

Sly like a... ? part 11

[Full Masterlist] Beta: n/a (at the moment) Rating: All (Marked Chapters 18+) Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x FailedHybrid!Reader Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, action, adventure, angst, drama, slice of life. Some marked chapters will contain mature/smut scenes, BUT they will not have plot in those scenes and are 100% skippable without losing your place in the story.

Summary: Human’s strive to be better, faster and stronger looking to animal DNA. Thus Hybrids are born. As the rise for designer and Pedigree Hybrids increase, so do the failed attempts. There is one species scientists are unsuccessful in creating, but, folklore says they have been here all along, hiding and blending in with the humans for many millennia. How clever they are.

[First] [Prev] [Next]

‘No girls or Jungkook’s allowed! ’

The sign on the door filled you with so much anger. You had to physically remember to breathe, it wouldn’t do to start yelling at the hybrids, they already felt inferior and vulnerable compared to humans. You never wanted them to feel weak, which is why you were mad. You didn’t care if they wanted to exclude you, but you would give the two young men a strong lecture for even thinking about excluding Jungkook.

“Jimin and Taehyung I would like to talk with you,” you ripped the sign down and tore it up. It would be best to dispose of the evidence before the young man saw it. Seeing his hyungs ignoring him would break him, “If you are upset talk to me and I will try to fix the situation.”

There was no response so you sighed walking away pushing the small lump in your throat down, you heard them whispering and thought maybe they needed time. It was after lunch that you began wondering if they planned to lock themselves up all day. Jungkook sat on the soft rug looking at the video games and he smiled setting up the controllers as he looked between two games.

“Which one do you think is better?” Jungkook asked Seokjin who took one of the controllers and smiled, he read both and grinned and you stepped over sitting on the floor picking up a controller.

“I can play right, I think Jimin and Taehyung are talking about some things,” You smiled, nuzzling his hair for a second and leaning back on Seokjin’s legs. “So what are we playing, I have never played before?”

Namjoon ended up joining and Yoongi took a seat on your spare side on the rug and leaned on one of Seokjin’s legs laughing at your expense. “You missed, he was right there and you missed, he shot you,”

“Look, I am a Minecraft kind of videogamer, you know the sims?” You puffed your cheeks flailing as you tried to shoot Namjoon who was doing a lot of shouting and not a lot of aiming either.

Everyone was in stitches. You almost forgot about the other two boys who were feuding with you. It was late and you had played a series of driving and shooting games and a game of Minecraft; where you all made a village and lived side by side and visited each other's houses with food and tools.

“I am hungry,” Jungkook pouted, pulling your sleeve and glancing at the dark kitchen. You looked at the time, and your mouth dropped open. “When is dinner?”

“Let’s order in, I can’t be bothered cooking,” You ordered a bunch of food, making sure to get Jimin and Taehyung’s favorite dishes so that you could lure them out. They would no doubt be hungry.

The food was delivered and as you removed the lids you named the dishes loudly hoping the two locked away in their room would emerge and eat something.

It’s super effective!

You smile as everyone digs in. The two boys were obviously mad and jealous that you had slept in Jungkook’s room and you wondered how you would possibly be able to fix this.

“I will take Wednesdays,” Yoongi smiled “I like Wednesdays”

“What is he talking about?” Hoseok asked he was just as confused by the white tiger's outburst looking towards Namjoon who with a mouth full of noodles shrugged.

“Sunday’s you can sleep in Jungkook’s room, and mine on Wednesdays,”

“Oh I will take Monday’s” Hoseok smiled, brightly

“Monday is tonight” Jimin accused looking panicked, “fine, I will take Tuesday then”

“Can you sleep in my rooms on Wednesday?” Taehyung said,

“Wednesday is already taken,” Yoongi glared, placing some meat on Taehyung’s plate in an attempt to console him, “Take Thursday”

“Yes Thursday”

“I will take Saturday,” Jin grinned, “Which means Namjoon is Friday? Is that alright?”

You blinked watching this all unfold, they had just decided on their own sleep schedule for you. It was nice to see them working together but you didn’t know how to feel about moving rooms every night. But at this point, anything seemed more comfortable than the couch. “Maybe once and when I have stayed once in everyone's rooms, I will go back on the couch.”

“What if two people share a room and have bunk beds or something, then that leaves a free room for you?” Jimin said, grabbing some tteokbokki, “I can share with Hoseok or Taehyung or Jungkook, I can give you my room. It can be your own little space.”

“Oh, my room! My room!” Hoseok said, “I miss the sound of other people in the night, we can get bunk beds.”

Hoseok and Jimin grinned at one another, the two already talking about how they would design and decorate their room. Heading into the bathroom you cleaned up the clothes off the floor and dumped them in the hamper. It made you laugh how comfortable they were all getting enough to drop their clothes on the floor right beside the hamper.

Taking a rather warm shower you scrubbed your skin wondering if you would smell different again in the morning. It was a strange thought, once scrubbed and buffed clean you wrapped yourself in your towel and stood on the small mat in front of the basin. Examining your appearance, as you slowly moisturize your skin.

Whilst smoothing the cool night cream across your brow you thought you saw an orange tail in the mirror turning you thought Seokjin had burst into the bathroom to pee but when you turned nothing and nobody was there.

It left you feeling a little unsettled, it was your head playing tricks on you. Getting dressed you all but ran out into the hall smacking into Seokjin who was coming out of his room. You grasped his large shoulders to prevent yourself from falling back. He gripped your waist in response.

“Woah, what’s wrong, why are you scared?” He asked, his tail fluffed and his ears twitching looking for a threat. A few heads popped out of their rooms, “You reek of fear, what happened?”

“I spooked myself, one of the towels moved in the bathroom and I thought it was something else and I got scared, that’s all” Your voice died off with your rambling, and the blush settled upon your cheeks.

Hoseok walked over and took your hands, “don’t worry, you are staying in my room tonight so I will protect you!” His chipper tone did wonders to ease your distress, pulling you along to his room where he tucked the two of you into the bed.

“Thank you, I miss having people to talk to and just be there,” He smiled, “I am excited to get to stay with Jimin, he is such a nice guy.”

“He is a sweetheart when we were little we used to play together and he always wanted to play pirates and superheroes but on my 4th birthday no one from our school showed up to my princess party. So Jimin dressed up as a princess as did my carer Felix and his carer Astrid and we all shared snacks and cake”

“YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T TELL ANYONE!” Jimin’s voice screeched from the hallway seconds before rapid footsteps. His figure appeared in the doorway for a split second, his sock-clad feet slipping out from underneath him sending him sliding further down the hallway.

“I have pictures too,” You giggled

“Send them to me.” Yoongi’s tired drawl came from a few rooms up and you grinned airdropping them around the house. Jimin tried to wrestle the phone from your hands and you grinned, pulling him onto the bed.

“Time for bed Jimin, lay down or get out.” he indeed snuggled up on your other side, Hoseok and Jimin's arms wrapped around you and you were indeed feeling quite safe from your previous scare.

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[chaoticpuff17]

Suga, We’re Going Down

part 15

masterlist

Hello, my darlings! Here’s an update for you! I’m off to work on the next part of WTCAD! and just a reminder that @chimchimsauce​ released her new book this week. Don’t forget to check it out, you can find the link in on her page. love you all!--- chaotic puff

If anyone at Jin hit Entertainment had been asked if Min Yoongi was a family man, they would have said no. Min Yoongi was a terror, a quiet one but a terror none-the-less. He was focused, driven, extremely talented, and a famous grouch. A family man was not a description anyone would have associated with him, and yet Kim Seokjin was looking at a nervous manager who was bringing forward some odd requests that the famous rapper had made. The requests included the acquisition of an apartment building and to bring him listings for modernized hanok houses in Seoul. To make this odd business even more strange, Yoongi had asked that they look into primary schools as well. Jin could understand why the poor man was confused and concerned. It was very unlike Yoongi, which was why the young CEO was on his way to talk to the artist 

The problem was to talk to the artist, he had to interrupt dance practice for the new mv, and something about interrupting Yoongi while he was holding a sword was extremely unappealing, but it had to be done. Someone had to ask about the odd requests. Jin was sure that there was some sort of perfectly reasonable explanation, and then they could all move on with their lives. 

“Hey, Yoongi!” Jin called walking into the practice room, only to be met with a dark glare from the man who was quite literally holding a sword. 

“What?” he growled incredibly displeased by the interruption. 

He was moving Y/N into her new apartment today, and Yoongi wanted to be there to help her get settled. She had insisted on doing all of the packing herself, and he knew she was back from classes already and probably hard at work packing up her small apartment. He trusted Jackson with her. He knew he would help her pack up, but that didn’t change the fact that he wanted to be the one to help her. He wanted to finish practice and get out of there as quickly as possible. If he couldn’t help her pack up the old apartment, he could still help her settle into the new one. And flowers, he was going to bring her flowers. She would enjoy that. But Jin wasn’t helping any of these plans come together any faster with his interruptions. 

“Can I talk to you for a sec?”

“No.” Yoongi grunted, brushing back his hair as he glared at his hyung. 

“It’ll just take a minute.” Jin continued on cheerily even though Yoongi was giving him a look that would have sent anyone else cowering. Yoongi sighed, setting the sword aside and going to get a drink of water as he waited for Jin to get to the point. “So one of the managers came to me saying you’d been making some odd requests.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Just wanted to make sure that everything was okay. It’s not like you to buy an apartment building, and you’re looking for a house, schools? What’s going on, Yoongi?” 

“She has a kid.” Yoongi grunted, flopping down onto the floor for a break while Jin stared at him as though he’d suddenly grown a second head. 

“Who has a what now?” 

“Y/N, she has a kid.” he repeated. “Toddler. Cute little bugger.” 

“She has… a child?” Jin repeated pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration as he tried to take in the new information. “Did you know about the kid?” 

“Found out on Saturday.” the other man shrugged, seeming remarkably unbothered especially considering the magnitude of what he’d just said. 

“And you’re buying a whole apartment building and a house because?” 

“Kid’s dad is harassing her.” 

“Okay?” Jin didn’t want to push too hard, but getting information out of the rapper could be like pulling teeth. 

“She needs a safe place to go, her and the kid.” 

“So you bought an apartment building?” Yoongi nodded. “Then what’s the house for?” 

“House is for her and the kid.”

“You said the apartment was for them.” 

“House is for all of us. Eventually.” 

Jin was dumbstruck as the implication of those words hit him with full force. Min Yoongi, the surliest son of a bitch he knew, had a family. He’d taken a sugar baby, and suddenly he had a whole family. He’d accepted another man’s child to the point he was planning a future around the kid and his mom. 

“That’s…” 

“It’s not hers.” Yoongi grunted seeing the older man’s head about to burst. “Not biologically. It’s her nephew, but he’s hers now.”

That made a little more sense to Jin. “And the birth dad is harassing them?” 

“Showed up at the park by her house without notice. Really freaked her out.” 

“She didn’t tell you about the kid?” Jin asked, sliding down next to Yoongi. He needed to sit if he was going to have this conversation. 

“She took the job to take care of him. Her family’s not in a good way.” Yoongi explained, taking another drink of water. “She was trying to protect the kid.” 

“And you’re okay with this?” 

Yoongi shrugged, thinking fondly on his angel and their kid. “She’s a good mom, and he’s a good kid.” 

Jin nodded along, still trying to wrap his mind around this. “And the kid actually likes you?” 

Yoongi scoffed, but a small smile tugged at his lips. As soon as the kid had decided that he was fine, the kid had been absolutely fascinated by him. It was painfully clear to both him and Y/N that the kid didn’t have a lot of men in his life. That was fine though. He had Yoongi now.

 “Why wouldn’t he like me?” 

“Cause you’re a grump?” Jin suggested, playfully bumping the other man’s shoulder. “Got a picture.” 

Yoongi looked at him in surprise, but he grabbed his phone pulling up a picture of Y/N and Eun Jae he had snapped on Sunday afternoon when the pair had fallen asleep on the couch for an afternoon nap after Eun Jae had run them both ragged around the penthouse playing princesses and dragons all afternoon. Eun Jae had been the brave night protecting the princess, and Yoongi had been made to be the dragon trying to steal Y/N away from her protector. Eventually the little guy had worn himself out, and the family had settled on the couch for a snack and an afternoon cartoon, before both mother and son had drifted off. Yoongi hadn’t been able to resist snapping a picture of his small family. 

“He’s a cute kid.” Jin smiled, handing the phone back to him. It was odd to see Yoongi with a family, but even if the indicators were subtle, Yoongi seemed happy. 

“Yeah.” Yoongi agreed. “He looks like his mom.” 

“So the house and looking at schools and everything, it’s all for them?”  Yoongi nodded. “Alright then.” Jin clapped, nodding resolutely. “That clears things up. When do they move into the apartment? And when do the guys and I get to meet the little guy?” 

“Y/N moves into the new apartment today. Eun Jae is going to be with her grandmother till Friday, and you idiots don’t get to meet him.” 

“What!” Jin squawked , highly offended. “Why not? We’d be awesome uncles!”

Yoongi growled under his breath. “She’s skittish about the kid, and I won’t have you idiots freaking her out.” 

“Freak her out! How could I freak her out? I’m world wide handsome, you know? And I’m great with kids!”

“Not the point, Jin.” 

“I wouldn’t freak her out!”

“She has every right to be skittish, and I get more time with my kid before you idiots start crowding in.” He huffed, bopping the other man over the head with the empty water bottle. 

“Alright, alright.” The CEO surrendered. “Congrats, man. You seem happy.” 

“I am.” 

“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off. Go help your girl get set up in that fancy building you bought for her.” 

Yoongi nodded gratefully as the older man got up from the floor complaining about old bones. He was more than ready to get out of JinHit and go see his angel. He had all sorts of surprises ready for her at the new place, some he could show her and some he couldn’t.

He had the apartment furnished for her, getting some better quality appliances and furnishings for her. His family could only have the best after all. He’d even had the kitchen stocked in preparation for the move. He’d gotten a bunch of new toys and things for the kid too.

 Those were all things that he was excited to show her, but he knew better than to tell her that he owned the building, or that he had her entire security team living in the building as well. He knew what she’d say about that. She’d argue that it was too much, that it was unneeded, but he didn’t want to take any chances with her safety or Eun Jae’s. He even had a guard keeping an eye on the kid while he was at the grandmother’s. She’d certainly have something to say about that, but she didn’t need to worry over that. Their safety was his concern now, and he’d do whatever it took to protect his angel and their kid. 

With Jin letting him leave early, Yoongi was more than ready to go see his angel. He needed a shower first, but then he was free to go help her settle in. A quick text from Jackson had told him that she was already at the new building. A text from one of the bodyguards he’d hired to look after her had told him that Kim Taehyung had also been trying to keep an eye on her- trying and failing. Yoongi wasn’t about to let him get close to his family, especially not when his relationship with his kid was still so fragile. He hadn’t even known there was a kid in the equation till a few days ago, and he didn’t need the sperm donor showing up and confusing Eun Jae on who his father was.  For now, the little boy was safe with his grandmother, who Yoongi had been reliably told was a battle axe of a woman who wouldn’t be letting any strangers or anyone from the Kim family anywhere near that little boy. 

Yoongi got to the apartment to find Y/N preoccupied stringing up a set of bumble bee lights around the living room. He’d ordered a ton of stuff for the apartment, all things that he thought would be warm and comforting for her and the kid. It was colorful and bright, and ten times better than her old apartment. It had enough space for Eun Jae to play and for Y/N to do her schoolwork all while being within the safety of a building that Yoongi owned and staffed. The front desk had been given Taehyung’s photo with strict instructions not to allow him into the building. He wasn’t getting near either of them so long as Yoongi had anything to say about it. 

“Miss, you should really let me.” Jackson fretted hovering around Y/N as she put the lights up, making sure she didn’t fall. 

“I’m fine, Jackson.” she rolled her eyes. “I am perfectly capable of  putting up some lights.” 

“You could fall!” Guessing from the harried voice of his employee, Yoongi could guess that this wasn’t the first time that Y/N had refused to let him help today. 

“I let you put up the paintings!” 

“The paintings were already here when you got here!” 

“Eh.” she shrugged. “Someone who wasn’t me put them up.” 

“Babe,” Yoongi called, startling both of them and accidentally causing her to lose her balance on the sofa as she spun around, but Jackson was quick to catch her and equally quick to set her down again and excuse himself. 

“I wasn’t expecting you.” she muttered, shuffling from foot to foot. 

“Wanted to help you move in.” he smiled, stepping forward to place a quick, soft kiss to her forehead. “How do you like the place?”

“It’s too much. We really didn’t need something this…” 

“You did.”  he cut her off, holding out the bouquet of hydrangeas. 

“They’re lovely.” she smiled, a little tiredly, but it had been a busy day for her. “Let me get these in some water. I assume that’s what the vases are for?” He smirked following after her as she moved around the apartment. “You didn’t have to furnish it. You’ve already done so much for us, more than what we agreed upon.” 

“I wanted to,” he shrugged. “Besides, we need to renegotiate the terms of the contract anyway.” 

She turned to him with wide eyes, clearly nervous by the thought of renegotiations. “Nothing bad. Eun Jae puts a new light on things. I want to make sure that you and he have everything you need, give you both some more security.” he assured her. 

“You’ve already…”

“It’s not up for discussion, angel.” her mouth clicked shut immediately as she nodded. “Don’t look so grim, babe.” he laughed, tipping her chin up. “It’s just a few little things to take Eun Jae into account.” 

“He likes you.” she sighed, letting her sling an arm over her shoulder and steer her back towards the sofa and the half hung string of lights. “There’s not a lot of people that run around with him like that.” 

A swell of pride rose up in his chest at that. “I like him. He’s a good kid.”

“It’s nothing major right? The changes to the contract?” 

“No.” he pressed a kiss to her messy hair. “Nothing major.” It was just a few things to ensure their future, nothing she needed to worry about right now.

“Thank you again, for everything.” she sighed, sinking into the sofa and curling slightly into his side. 

He hummed, tugging her in a little closer. It was cute how she thought that this was big. It was nothing in the grand scheme of things. This was just the beginning for them, and this little apartment was no place for them to raise a growing family. 

“Anything for you.” 

part 16

[mint-yooxgi]

{6} - Obsession

Yandere AU - Part of the EXO Obsession Series

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst

Pairing: EXO OT9 X Reader (with a particular focus on X-EXO)

Words: 3,742

Warnings: This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: It's finally here! Yay! After months of waiting, I really hope you all enjoy the update as well as what I have planned for the rest of the series. So, since this is posted on a Friday, Friday's will be Obsession posting days, but every two weeks! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Previous ~ Next

“How did you-“

“Find you? Get in?” He cuts you off before you can even finish your question. “Tracking you was the easy part. All I had to do was follow your scent. Once I picked up on that, I found this quant abode here and waited to see if you would actually show up. Once you did, I knew I had you. You’re cautious, I’ll give you that, but I’m quicker.”

Your eyes narrow as he stands up from the chair. Who knows how long he’s known about this place, and if he can find it, then his original most certainly can, too. You need answers, and you’ll make sure he give them to you.

“How long?”

“About three days,” he hums, nonchalantly.

“Why wait until now to make your move?” You watch him carefully, analyzing every move he makes as he starts to pace the opposite side of your room slowly, each step deliberately dragged out.

The grip you have on the blade in your hand tightens.

“It’s the perfect time, is it not?” Suho quirks a brow in amusement. You’ve never seen him act like this before, an air of arrogance surrounding him as he takes another step. “We’ve successfully infiltrated the compound. The morale of the team is failing, and you’re upset about the ring. What better time to make my appearance than now when I can make the first move? Tell me, has my other self offered you solace yet?”

“You should know,” you retort, shoulders tense.

“I bet he was livid when he found out you didn’t trust him with something as important, as precious to you as that ring. I know I was,” he chuckles, halting his movements for the time being in favour of turning to face you head on. “Let me guess, he told you not to hesitate to call him for anything at all.”

Your breath hitches slightly at the way he says those words, exactly as Junmyeon had said them earlier that same day. A smirk dances on his features: he’s got you.

“If only my original wasn’t such a coward,” he tuts. “We could have been together by now, but no. He’s too concerned about appearances and whatnot.”

“He’s doing better than you,” you counter, and he quirks a brow, clearly amused by your pointed tone.

“Don’t lie to yourself, love,” in an instant, he has you pinned to the wall, hand gripping your one wrist firmly enough to have you dropping your grip on the blade you’re holding. The blade falls to the floor with a small clatter. A gasp escapes your lips as you feel his breath ghost your ear, his voice low as he says, “I could hear your heart racing in excitement all the way across the room.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” your voice is low in response, playing him at his own game as your own breath hits his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “Now, get off of me before I make you.”

You’re surprised by his bold actions, but also, from the way he’s been acting, you’ve been expecting him to get in closer any minute. You’d prefer not to be in this position with him for much longer, but perhaps you can use it to your advantage. It’s not like you’re enjoying all of this back and forth.

However, to a pair of prying eyes looking in from the darkness of the foliage outside your window, this position you find yourself in appears in quite the contrast to how you really feel on the inside.

“I’d like to see you try,” you can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he drags his nose along the column of your neck, pushing his body even further into yours as he keeps you pinned against the wall. His free hand that had previously been holding onto your waist drifts lower, grabbing the underside of your one thigh and tugging it up so your leg comes to wrap around his waist. He’s only ever dreamed of being in this sort of position with you, and now that he is, he wants to savour the feeling for as long as he can.

“Suho,” your voice is nothing but a warning, and you can feel him tense against you, a sigh falling from his lips.

“Again, with that name,” he leans back slightly, just enough to be able to stare into your eyes properly. “I’d prefer it if you called me by my name, love.”

“I’ll call you whatever the hell I want to until you get off of me,” you retort, and though you can see the amusement shining in his eyes, he reluctantly lets you go, taking a few steps back to give you some space. Rubbing at your wrist which had been previously held in his grip, you eye him warily, but you play along. For now. “Thank you, Junmyeon.”

A smug smile tugs at his lips, “there, now, was that so hard?”

You stare at him for a moment, adjusting your stance until you feel the coolness of the metal from the blade against your foot. In the blink of an eye, you manage to drop your body in a roll, grabbing the blade, once more holding it in your hand. Your stare is cold as you remain crouched low to the ground, holding the blade in front of you firmly.

“What is it that you want?” You ask, hearing him let out another sigh at your behaviour.

“I thought I- we made that obvious,” he replies, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “You.”

“Then why go to all this trouble to get me? Why not just take me now?”

“It’s like we’ve already said, we want you to come to us rather than us just taking you, but we will resort to those means if necessary.” He says.

“Even if that means hurting me?” This time, it’s your turn to quirk a brow.

“We wouldn’t ever dream of hurting you,” he replies with no hesitation. “The others, on the other hand, are fair game.”

“You of all people should know that hurting them would be like hurting me, no matter how you try and frame it,” you say. “Besides, what’s to stop me from plunging this dagger into my own heart right here, right now?”

“Ah, yes, your seemingly noble act of self-sacrifice,” he hums. “Go ahead, I won’t stop you this time. The others aren’t around to do anything about it either.”

“You seem confident I won’t do it,” flipping the dagger, you point the tip at your chest and you notice him falter slightly before righting himself once more. Seems he’s had a change of heart.

“You may talk big, but you and I both know that you don’t want to die,” Suho’s voice is level, confident in what he’s saying. “No matter how brave of a face you put on, I know the truth. The thought of death terrifies you.”

You grit your teeth, grip becoming so tight on the blade your hand starts to cramp. How he knows this fact is beyond you, and you’re shocked he’d even bring it up at all. Sure you may put on a tough facade for your team most of the time, but he’s right. Death has always terrified you, but your sense of duty has always overpowered that fear.

“Your silence speaks volumes, love,” he smirks, moving over to the patio doors attached to your room. His eyes catch a slight movement as he slides the door open, a gentle breeze drifting through the room as he turns his head to look at you from over his shoulder. “You have three days, and then we’re coming for you. You best be ready for when that time comes.”

Without another word, he’s disappeared, nothing but your open patio door serving as a reminder to what has just transpired in your room moments before.

Letting out a sigh of relief, you release the breath you had unwillingly been holding. The dagger in your hand falls to the floor once more as you relax your tense muscles. Everything has just gotten that much more complicated.

Clearing your mind in the next moment, you stand quickly, locking your patio doors and moving to set your alarm. The last thing you need is another unexpected visit from one of the other clones today.

Picking the blade back up, you keep it at your side as you walk through your house. Doing the only thing you can think of at this time to do, you call Kyungsoo.

Explaining the situation to him takes no more than two minutes, and you can hear him exhale loudly on the other end of the phone.

“You know what this means, right?” He asks, and you can hear some shuffling coming from his end.

“I am aware, yes,” you reply, running a hand over your face as you stare at your tired reflection in the hallway mirror. “I could use all the help I can get at this point.”

“We’ll be there in less than an hour,” is the last thing you hear before the line goes dead. Trust Kyungsoo to always be on top of things when stuff like this happens. Now, all that’s left to do is wait until they arrive.

Meanwhile, as soon as he ends the call with you, Kyungsoo lets out another sigh. You just can’t seem to catch a break.

“What’s wrong?” Yixing peeks his head over the monitors at Kyungsoo.

“Get Minseok, we’re leaving,” is the only reply he gets. “I’ll explain on the way.”

The two share a look, and it’s enough for Yixing to understand that this is about you. Something’s happened, and he knows it’s serious if Kyungsoo refuses to even divulge the topic while at the compound. Too many prying eyes, and ears for that matter.

Not even ten minutes later, the three of them are all packed into Kyungsoo’s car, heading straight to the highway in order to get to your place. Granted, they did have to dodge some questions from your strike team about where they’re going. Luckily, they managed to escape without too many suspicions raised. At least, that’s what they think.

“Is it just me, or are the techs all suspiciously acting real close to (Y/n) all of a sudden?” Baekhyun voices as the six of them go over their stations once more to make sure they didn’t miss filing anything that got stolen by the clones.

“Jun, Dae and I did sort of walk in on them talking about something in her office yesterday,” Sehun recalls, tapping the pen he’s holding on the bottom of his chin as he recalls the hushed whispers he had heard through the door. “It sounded important.”

“You guys don’t think something else has happened regarding our clones, has it?” Jongin furrows his brow in concern, sharing a look with each of his teammates.

“I don’t think they’re being completely honest with us,” Junmyeon adds, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Shouldn’t we give them the benefit of the doubt, though?” Chanyeol reasons, resting the clipboard he’s holding on his hip. “They are our teammates, I’m sure they’d tell us if it were important.”

“Baekhyun’s right,” Jongdae says, and all eyes turn to look at him. “Clearly there’s an air of distrust between us, especially now that the clones have infiltrated the compound and taken her ring.”

“What ring?” Jongin’s brow furrows even further in confusion. So far, he’s the only one who hasn’t received an explanation for it. “You mean the one she came in seething about today while we were in interrogation?”

“Yeah,” Jongdae confirms. “If Kyungsoo was the only other one beside me who knew about it, and Yixing and Minseok are practically uninvolved in this, I’d say they’re probably the people she trusts most right now.”

“This is ridiculous,” Baekhyun huffs.

“Like it or not, Jongdae’s right,” Junmyeon sighs.

“Wait, hold up,” Jongin interjects. “Will one of you please explain this ring to me?”

“It was her grandmother’s ring, given to her to give to the person she wants to spend the rest of her life with,” Sehun explains, a slight daze falling over his features as he recounts everything you told them. Once he’s done explaining, Jongin falls silent.

“Oh,” he breathes, the same thoughts coursing through his head as with the others when they first learnt of this ring. “Well, clearly we need to find the clones and get this ring back as soon as we can.”

“That’s the plan,” Chanyeol nods, only causing Baekhyun to frown with the growing tension now engulfing the room. Each of them want to be the one to get that ring back and destroy their clones first to prove to you that they are the one that is worthy to be yours.

“We need to work together, lest we want to fall apart,” Jongdae says, somewhat hesitantly.

A brief silence settles over the six of them, a few of them nodding their agreement. However, each pair of eyes holds wariness in them, not knowing if they can trust each other to the extent that they have in the past.

“Who’s going to give her the ring back when we find it?” Baekhyun asks, and it’s like someone has stolen all the air from the room as soon as the words leave his lips.

“I am,” both Jongdae and Junmyeon answer at the same time, immediately turning to glare at the other in response.

“I’m her second in command, it would make sense for me to return it to her in the end,” Junmyeon explains.

“And I was the one who got her into this mess with the ring in the first place, so it would make most sense if I’m the one to return it to her,” Jongdae counters.

“You just want to make yourself look like the hero in her eyes,” Junmyeon narrows his eyes at Jongdae, a silent warning to not challenge him right now.

“Like you’re any different,” Jongdae scoffs, standing up from his seated position on the bench. “You’re just hoping she’ll tell you to keep the ring once you present it back to her.”

“Now wait just a fucking minute-” this time, its Baekhyun who stands, a fire lit behind his eyes as the six of them begin to argue over who will get to present you your ring once they get it back.

With each passing minute, their voices grow louder. So much so, that their shouting can be heard all the way from outside the room, though half of it is incoherent. By the time another person enters the room, Chanyeol has Sehun pinned against the wall, sparks are dancing along Jongdae’s fingertips as Junmyeon takes a fighting stance, and Baekhyun is reaching for his switchblade to point at Jongin’s throat.

“Enough!” Dahyun’s voice booms across the room, successfully startling the six men out of their blind rage. “Now, I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but you’re all acting like wild animals. No, even wild animals have more decency than you guys right now. There is a crisis going on here, the last thing we need is to be infighting with one another. Pull yourselves together! Go home and get some rest; take a breather and start fresh tomorrow. There are bigger things at play here than what meets the eye.”

At her words, they all straighten themselves out. Sehun, Chanyeol and Jongin hang their heads slightly in shame, while Baekhyun, Junmyeon, and Jongdae all scowl.

“Good,” she nods once she sees that they’ve all calmed down somewhat. “Oh, and by the way, you two,” she motions to Jongdae and Jongin, “are cleared. Now, I repeat, go home and get some rest. We all need it.”

Without another word, she exits the room, leaving the six of them in a tense silence.

As each of them pack up for the evening, all of their minds are on one thing. Proving themselves to you by making sure that they are the only one to get your ring back for you.

Meanwhile, back at your place, you’ve just finished letting Kyungsoo, Minseok, and Yixing in. Quickly locking your door once more, you turn to face the men now standing in your hallway, two with looks of awe on their faces as they take in your house.

“Damn, (Y/n), didn’t know you had a home away from home,” Minseok muses, quirking a brow at you playfully.

“Maybe we should ‘stay with Kyungsoo’ more often, too,” Yixing jokes, causing you to crack a tense smile.

“Surprise,” you chuckle humourlessly, motioning with your head for them to head to the living room so you can all talk.

“Have you-“

“Already triple checked for bugs and any possible changes to my security system,” you cut Kyungsoo off. “I found none, but you’re free to check while I fill these two in.”

A nod is all you receive from Kyungsoo as you make it to your living room and sit on the couch, motioning for both Yixing and Minseok to join you. It takes about ten minutes to fill the two of them in since they kept asking questions. That, and you kept having to explain how you have this house, and why Kyungsoo was the only one to know about it. By the time you’re done, Kyungsoo rejoins the three of you.

“The good news is I found nothing,” he confirms what you’ve already deduced, you nodding to him in thanks.

“That’s good,” Yixing says, turning back to look at you.

“Hang on, I’m still not done processing what you’ve just told me about Suho,” Minseok shakes his head in disbelief. “That bastard did what?”

“Pinned me against the wall and grabbed my thigh to wrap my leg around his waist,” you reply calmly.

Kyungsoo’s eyes flash, “you failed to mention the leg part in your explanation earlier.”

“Did I?” You huff. “My bad.”

“Well, it’s very clear that you’re no longer safe here,” Yixing says. “At least by yourself.”

“That much is for certain,” you huff, leaning back on the couch.

“You’re still safer here than with one of us at our place,” Minseok notes, hand coming up to hold his chin as he thinks.

“That’s true, but who’s to say Junmyeon won’t do the exact same thing his clone did?” Yixing observes.

“I think Junmyeon has a little more dignity than his clone,” Kyungsoo adds. “Or at least, a little more respect for his captain.”

“I’d say so,” you sigh, bringing your one hand up to rub at your eyes. “He said I have three days. That means we only have two and a half to find them before they come for me. If that at all.”

“Already working on it,” Kyungsoo replies, pulling out his laptop from his bag. “Though I haven’t found much since this morning.”

“What program are you using?” Minseok leans over, watching as Kyungsoo types away on his laptop.

The two of them start conversing back and forth, working out the best means to find the clones before something else happens. Yixing takes this time to move beside you on the couch, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Are you okay?” His voice is soft, expression showing nothing but concern for you.

“I will be,” you exhale a long breath.

“If those bastards so much as lay another finger on you…” he lets his threat linger in the air, eyes cold and unforgiving as they narrow at the wall.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Yixing,” you grin halfheartedly. “I’m sure it’ll all be okay.”

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

“Either way, you shouldn’t be left by yourself anymore,” Minseok pipes up from beside Kyungsoo. You weren’t even aware he had been listening in.

“I agree,” Kyungsoo nods, not taking his eyes off of his screen for a moment.

“We should come up with a schedule then,” Yixing nods.

“Well, the others still think I’m staying at Kyungsoo’s place, so we have to time it so in case they go over to his place, he’s there when he’s supposed to be,” you comment, and you see them nod in understanding.

“So, night shifts?” Minseok turns to look at Kyungsoo, who glances up briefly and then proceeds to nod once before going back to focussing on his laptop. “Cool, then Yixing and I can rotate mornings and afternoons.”

“Sounds good to me,” Yixing says with a faint smile.

“You guys really don’t need to be doing this for me, you know,” you tell them, and you’re taken aback at the intensity of their stares as they all whip their heads to look at you.

“Of course we do,” Minseok replies, standing up from his position to come sit on your opposite side. “Your safety is our number one priority.”

“Okay, but I need at least one afternoon off per week,” you joke and they smirk along with you.

“Whatever you need, we’ll provide for you,” Yixing assures you, squeezing your shoulder lightly.

“Thanks guys,” you smile weakly, the stress of the whole situation weighing down on your shoulders even more so than before. Now, you can’t even be in your own home without worrying a clone will appear unannounced. “I really appreciate it.”

“Like we said,” Minseok pats your back reassuringly, “it’s no problem.”

The rest of the evening is spent finalizing the rotation schedule for the next three days. You’ve all agreed to take the next few days off just to be safe. Unless there’s an emergency, or something that one of them needs to grab, like equipment, none of you will be going into the compound for work.They’ll make sure nothing, no one can break into your house again. At least, not while they’re around.

The longer they spend with you, the better you feel. It’s nice to have the three of them there with you, not only for protection, but also for the company as well. If you were by yourself, you’d probably be extra paranoid right now. With good reason, too, for you have yet to notice that extra pair of eyes watching you, lurking just outside your house. Someone that your security system just can’t seem to pick up on.

[yoonieboonie]

The Substitute Lover (6)

word count: 2.5k

genre: fluff, angst hehe

pairing: myg x reader

summary: Finally meeting the college boy you’ve been eyeing on for months, everything goes wrong when you realise what you’re really getting yourself into.

a/n: this is part 6 !!! Thank you for the feedback from last chapter!  The vote for updates was split so I updated on the weekends and weekdays! :> If you can, please please please leave me a feedback after reading this chapter. :> Thank you!!!

NEXT | PREVIOUS

"Joonie, you promised." You groan into your phone. You are pacing back and forth in your apartment as you talk to Namjoon who decided to do a raincheck on your plans today. You were supposed to buy a gift for your Mom as her birthday was near. If you can't be there physically, you at least wanted to send something.

"I know, Y/N." he sighed on the other line. "I was pulled in by Mijin saying Mrs. Lee needs me for rehearsals. No one else in our batch can play flute but me." you can hear in his voice that he wasn't fond of the circumstances too, so you decided to let it go. You can just go alone.

"I contacted Hoba, he can take you."

You found yourself roaming the mall alone for a good hour when you receive a message, asking where you are. Assuming that it was Hoseok's new number, you respond with your location and saved it under the name "Hobi" as you pocketed it to continue your stroll.

You turn to a corner and your mouth opened to gape like a fish. Yoongi is walking towards you with his hands in his pockets. He finally reaches you as you close your mouth.

"I'm assuming Joon didn't tell you that I was coming?" He mused. I shook my head mutely.

"Does Eujin know about this?" you asked. You didn't mean to impose. Yoongi nodded his head. Why was he lying about something as simple as this?

He doesn't know. He doesn't even know why he said yes to this at all. All he knows is that he intends to enjoy today. He's having too much on his plate. You shrugged and cleared your throat.

"I want to buy a shark charm." you said, not looking at him.

"Shark?" he repeated. You put your hands together and placed it above your head as if to act like fins. "Sharks. Jaws. Fish are friends, not food?" you mused.

This made him smile to himself. You really are a peculiar one. "That's my favourite animal to exist, I'm giving that to my mom as something to remember me by."

He nods in understanding. He then leads you to what you assumed were a jewelry store. You trail behind him quietly. This was the start of your friendship and you didn't want to jinx it by doing or saying anything stupid.

You two walk around the store quietly. Charms of different sizes and figures displayed in a glass case, sparkling in the lights that illuminated the whole store. You try to focus on looking for the charm you intend to buy, momentarily forgetting about Yoongi.

You hear a throat cleared beside you and you turn thinking it was Yoongi, rushing you to hurry and pick already. To your surprise, you were faced with a handsome, handsome young man. Confused, you moved to the side, thinking that you may have blocked his way.

"Anything I can help you with, ma'am?" the man asked politely. You then realised that he was a clerk at the store. You feel heat creep up your cheeks just as you failed to answer immediately. You were too busy being flustered to even open your mouth.

Yoongi was quickly beside you, making you recollect yourself.

"I-I'm looking for a shark charm." You said, and awkwardly doing the fin thing you did for Yoongi earlier. The man in front of you chuckled heartily, revealing a dimple on his cheek. You found yourself blushing again.

Yoongi clicked his tongue in annoyance and lifted his hands to bring your "fins" down. Once your hands are back to your sides, he spoke up.

"He knows what a shark is, Y/N. You don't have to do the hands." You nod, and subtly glance at the nametag of the man in front of you that read "Jeongguk".

"Follow me, sir." Jeongguk paused for a while. "Ma’am." he warmly smiled again.

Jeongguk showed you all types of charms and pendants available in the store and in the end, you bought a bracelet charm. It was beautiful.

"Thank you, Jeongguk. My mother would love this, I'm sure." You thanked him one last time. He bowed slightly.

Yoongi was itching to leave and you are honestly sorry to take up so much of his time. So you both head to the exit but before you reach the door, you hear a soft "wait" behind you.

Yoongi was the one to turn first, and then you did. It was Jeongguk. You assumed you have forgotten something but he handed you a piece of paper.

"I wasn't going to since it was unethical," he explained. "But I don't want to have met you and not shoot my shot."

Yoongi snatched the piece of paper from Jeongguk before you could get it. Was he fucking invisible? What was this guy's deal?

"What's your deal, man? Don't you see that we came in together?" Yoongi asked, trying to stay calm.

"I didn't think you would mind, sir." Jeongguk explains. Yoongi shot a brow at this.

"The ring on your finger." Jeongguk answers. "She doesn't have one."

You try and keep a straight face and act unaffected with the statement. Before you can even reply, Yoongi was dragging you out of the mall and into the parking space, not even bothering to stop. He was pissed beyond words. Why was everyone endeared by you? This was a mystery to him.

And you? Blushing furiously at everything that boy said. He scoffed beside you, while you are still oblivious to why he got angry. You assumed it was because you inconvenienced him. You are already thinking of ways to apologise but you were busy not tripping. He wasn't as tall as Namjoon but he was relatively taller than you and you had to jog in order to catch up to his pace as he continue to drag you by your cardigan sleeve.

He was mumbling angrily as he dragged you to his car. You stayed quiet beside him, he must've felt humiliated to be with you. Had you not been with him, he wouldn't be mad right now.

"Yoongi." you call out. His head snapped to your direction. You cleared your throat awkwardly, and fixed your glasses.

"I'm sorry," you start. This made Yoongi's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "I should've just waited for Namjoon to be free and not have you come with me." you spoke up.

"Stop." He replied. "I told you before and I'm telling you now. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to."

You look up at him, you felt your entire emotions surge and you are fed up with everything Yoongi does and says. You sigh as you ran your hand through your hair.

"Yoongi, why are you here?” you asked. “Have you figured it out?” “Figured what out, Y/N?” He returned. Your mind flashed back to last week’s events.

You were on your way to Mr. Do, your professor’s office, when you heard a female voice that made you stop in your tracks. You start hiding at a corner while at the Business Administration building..

There you found Eujin and Mr. Do hugging tightly. You didn’t really know how to react. After all, it was just a hug. You would like to put a little faith into the love of Yoongi’s life. She would never do this to him, you thought. But when he attempted to kiss Eujin you were quick to react. With your small frame, you pushed the two away from each other. Your chest heaving with every breath that you took.

"Eujin. Mr. Do." You cleared your throat. This made them jump away from each other. Like a fire was lit and burned the two of them. "I-I will pretend to have not seen whatever this is" You start.

Mr. Do, as you addressed him to be, seemed to relax at your statement.. After all, he will not only lose his job but also his dignity once this gets out of the three of them.

"But" you continued. "This has to stop, please."

The way you begged confused the fuck out of Eujin. Why were you begging? Weren’t you supposed to be happy that you caught her and can finally be with Yoongi?

"Y-Yoongi. He loves you so much, Eujin." You faced Eujin who has no emotion in her face but shock. "Please don't hurt him, please." You continued to beg.

Unbeknownst to you, Hoseok followed you to the building for you have left your apartment keys on the chair you sat on. He watched the whole ordeal as you started to beg. He wanted to zoom into the picture and take you away. You were lowering yourself to beg for Yoongi? He was infuriated with whom? He no longer knows.

"Mr. Do, please know that if this continues, I will report to the Dean immediately." You threaten and with that, you grab Eujin's arm and drag her to the restroom nearby.

"Don't fucking touch me, Y/N." Eujin takes her arm back as soon as you both arrive at the restroom. She made sure no one was around when she turned to face you. You can see clear as day that she is terrified with what you saw. She didn't want to lose Yoongi.

"I-I won't tell." you promised as you fixed your glasses.

"Why not? Wouldn't that benefit you? You can finally have Yoongi." Her voice was shaky as she said this.

"I'm not selfish, Eujin. I want him to be happy." You smile. "So please, while you haven't done anything you'd regret yet, stop now. I can guarantee that I won't tell him." you urge.

She closed her eyes, ran her fingers through her hair and looked in the mirror. She was still shaken but better. Without saying a word, she turned and left.

You had no choice but to watch her figure leave.

“Nevermind. I can go home from here.” You fake a smile. You bowed your head and turned to leave. Yoongi has had enough of you leaving and grabbed your arm. The contact sending shivers down your spine. You were quick to remove his hand and something flashed in his eyes. It was gone before you could even decipher what it was. “I’ll take you home. You accept these offers from Hobi and Joon, why am I any different?” He was going to start dragging you but you spoke up again. “Yoongi. we're friends, right?" you asked, as you removed the paper bag of the charm from his hand.

"Of course, we are." He answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Then don't act more than that. I asked you to give me a chance and you didn't." you face him tiredly. "I had to endure seeing you with Eujin for months and you didn't hear anything from me. The least you can do to is to not confuse me with all these halfass comments. I like you but I will never be a substitute lover."

With that, you turned to leave. Everything is crashing down on you. With the stress of having to hide what you saw, to your studies, and now with Yoongi confusing the fuck out of you. You just cannot catch a break.

Yoongi was too shocked to react, he wanted to follow you but what would he say to actually appease you? You were right, after all. Spending time with you honestly confused his feelings for Eujin. Hoseok and Namjoon knew this but didn't say anything. They took matters into their own hands and set you two up.

You sat at a bus stop as you rummage through your bag for your phone. Dialing Namjoon's number, he picked up after a few rings.

"Y/N?" He had a teasing tilt to his voice. "How was it?" As you expected, he wasn't in practice as it was quiet around him. You sigh into the receiver.

"W-What do you t-take me for, Namjoon?" You try to make your voice as stable as you can but it cracked in the end. The humiliation and exhaustion with the whole narrative is making your head spin.

"Did something happen, Y/N? What did Yoongi do?!" He grew alarmed as you cried. You heard shuffling as another voice spoke into the phone.

"Y/N? Are you alright? Where are you, I'll pick you up." Hoseok spoke.

"You were in this too?" You gritted your teeth. Anger and disappontment bubbled in your stomach, no matter how you tried to push it back down, trying to be rational.

"I am not a toy for your trio to play with." You finally spoke coldly. "I have feelings too. I'm not a charity case, Hoseok."

Hoseok winced at the lack of nickname and familiarity to your tone. He and Namjoon only wanted to make you happy, hence the setup of the date.

"Please, I'll pick you up." Hoseok sounds panicked already. "Y/N, love, tell me where you are." On his side, Namjoon watched shocked with how he addressed you. Hoseok was shocked too.

"Don't bother showing your face to me," You breathed. "I don't want anything to do with the three of you.” You were about to drop the call as a bus approached the station but you stopped as soon as Hoseok spoke again. “I saw you last week, Y/N.” You didn’t reply. You both knew what he was talking about. “It was none of your business. That was up to Eujin and Yoongi to fix—“ “Come on, Y/N! Do you hear yourself? She was cheating on him and you know it.” His voice was cold, you barely recognized it. “Even if Eujin did cheat on Yoongi, even if they break up,” You pause. “It still wouldn’t be me. Yoongi will never choose me.” “And how sure are you of that?” A voice spoke but it was not Hoseok. You glanced to your right and saw Yoongi who must’ve followed you. He was panting as his chest heaved up and down. He ran. The bus finally stopped in front of you. You gave him a final look. Yoongi’s eyes were begging you to not get in. But you did. ------------------------------------

NEXT | PREVIOUS

[spices-and-cherries]

Don’t make me wait (James Bond x Reader)

This was a request by the lovely @iamcavainna​! I’m so sorry it took so long, but life was being a bit rough. I also wanted to at least try and make this good, so I thought that it would be better if I took some time with it... There is a fluffy ending!

I did not reference race, gender, sexuality, or physical appearance. If I missed something, please let me know so I can change it! 

Warnings: drinking wine, a gun, angst, anxiety, mentions of potential accidents that could happen in a snowy mountain

It’s not uncommon for your partner, James Bond, to be traveling abroad for weeks on end. While it can get lonely, he does try to call regularly from whichever hotel he’s staying in. After a while, you became used to it. Why? Late or not, he always kept his promise: 

I’ll be back.

The last time he had called, he had said that he wouldn’t be able to contact you for a week at most due to a strenuous business conference at a ski resort in the Alps. Seeing as this was normal routine for him, you thought nothing of it and just reminded him not to accidentally hurt himself (yet again). 

But today, you’re worried. In fact, you’ve been worried for five days straight. It’s been over a week - eleven days to be exact - and now you feel as though something is off. 

Had he flown off the side of a cliff? Did he get lost? Was he trapped under an avalanche of snow?

James had given you an address to go to in case of emergency, but would this be the right time to use it? How can you be sure that you’re just not being paranoid? And if you did go, what would you say? James has never taken you to his place of work and barely talks about his colleagues, so who would you even be speaking to?

Hundreds of panicked questions circle your mind as you pace around your living space, phone in one hand and address in the other. You had barely slept the night before and hadn’t eaten all day. 

You missed James. He’s been gone for almost a month now and no number of phone calls could replace the feeling of his warmth on his side of the bed. His laugh, his miserable cooking, his rough hands...  You needed all of that and more back at home next to you. So you had to go. 

You check the time. It’s just before four o’clock. If you hurry, you just might catch someone on their way out.

---

Without a second thought, you slip on your coat and hurry to the closest bus stop. The trip there was a bit of a haze, between the times you were navigating and transferring. The haze dissipates pretty quickly as you walk up to what was supposed to be some office building and not a glamourous apartment complex with a Rolls Royce being unloaded in front of the main entrance. 

You have to double and triple check the address written down and your GPS on your phone. It seemed to be the right place...

Tentatively, you walk into the lobby, feeling very out of place and small. The floor looks like it all marble and there’s a little fountain in the middle of the space.

Anxious, you manage to sign yourself in at the front desk. There were some complications due to your ID, but after a quick phone call, it was sorted out and you were free to go up. You speed-walk to the elevators, feeling like someone was watching you. Looking around, you didn’t see anyone but the uptight attendant you had just spoken to making another call. The elevator doors open and you walk in. 

As you get closer and closer to your destination, you feel more anxious and your palms start to sweat. You furiously try and dry them as the doors open into what looked to be someone’s home. 

And that someone was straight in front of you.

“Who are you?” She was an older woman with short, salt-and-pepper hair and a fitted pantsuit.

“Uh...” You hear the elevator doors close behind you. There’s no escaping now.

“Well? I don’t have all day, you know.”

“My name is (Y/) (L/N)... I think my husband works for you.” One of her eyebrows raised. “Uh, he said that in case of emergency that I come here...” You pull out the piece of paper and she takes it. “I don’t really have anything urgent, but he’s unusually late in checking in and I-”

“Good lord.” She muttered furiously after scanning the note and crushes it.

“Pardon?” You ask, somewhat alarmed by the unexpected response. 

“Please, have a seat.” She waves to a chair and you comply. 

“Do you know-”

“Your husband? Yes. He’s one of my men.”

“Men?”

“...Well I can see that that fool did follow my order for once, not that it makes much difference...”

“I’m not sure I understand...”

“Normally, you wouldn’t have to.” She sits down across from you. “What is it that Bond told you about his job?”

“...Well, he’s one of those people who are the intermediaries between large company deals...?”

“Close. In reality, he’s the exact opposite.”

“I don’t-”

“Bond is an agent trained in the art of infiltration in order to stop certain kinds of ...businesses from expanding more than they already have. In short, your... husband... is an international spy.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“But that is not the issue here.” She stares at you with eagle eyes. “The issue is this address. Did Bond give it to you?”

“Yes!” You squeak - to say you’re terrified would be an understatement. “He said to come here in case of an emergency while he wasn’t home.”

“And the emergency is?”

“It’s been over a week since he last called. He promised that he would contact me once the week ended. He’s five days late. He’s never late for that long!”

“Right.” She rests her head in the palm of her hand as if she were dealing with some trivial issue. “Has anyone seen this address or followed you here?”

“No one has seen it and I don’t think so?”

“You don’t think so or you don’t know?” She snaps, but her face softens after seeing the look on your face. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Do you - do you know where James is?”

"...We know just as much as yourself. It seems the only thing that man is good for is causing me trouble.” She was standing up again and pacing.

“Is there anything I can do to help? I have this awful feeling that something happened!”

“I am afraid not. We are already doing all we can.” She sighs. “...Did he tell you anything last time he contacted you?”

“He said he was going to a ski resort with a client in the Alps...”

“Nothing else?”

“Not that I can remember.” She takes a good look at you, then turns away. 

“We were told the same. Any longer and we’ll may have to consider him MIA.” 

“MIA?” You feel slightly faint. “Is - is he in danger?”

“If he wasn’t he wouldn’t be doing his job.” You slump back into your seat, unsure of how to take all this information in. Not only has your husband lied to you about his profession, but that profession is putting him in danger!

“Is there anything you can tell me?” You start fiddling with your hands. “I don’t think I caught your name...”

“That would be because I didn’t tell it to you. You may call me M.” 

“Right.” You nod awkwardly. “Seeing as all this is top secret and I’m-”

“A civilian.”

“...What’s going to happen to me?”

“That would be for upper management to decide. Though it shouldn’t be anything too harmful. Bond was the one who brought you into this, after all.”

“Will he be fired?” Alarm rushes through you at the thought. 

“Oh no,” M looks at you with surprise. “James has done much worse than this. They’ll just give him a light spanking and send him off. He’s too good to be let go of.” She looks at you with a penetrating gaze. “Too damn good.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” You smile awkwardly. “In all honesty, this whole situation is a bit much for me.”

“I can imagine.”

“Does this happen with James often?”

“Missing a check-in or finding out about secret marriages?”

“Missing check-ins?”

“Yes, yes it does. Although it seems as though he contacts you more than us. It’s been two weeks since he last called in. It does seem like he’s taking longer than usual...” 

---

Out of supposed security concerns, M told you to stay with her until James comes back. As a compromise, she sent some people to keep surveillance in your neighborhood and on your flat. Of course, this meant a couple of days (or more) living with this mysterious woman. M never talked unless necessary and most certainly did not bring her work home. While she trusts you enough in her home, she cannot afford anything leaking out, no matter how harmless.

That being said, she did try to update you on any word (or lack thereof) from your husband. The more time past, the more anxious you became. You could no longer sleep and M would find you in your room just staring at the ceiling. You had confided in her just once about how much you were missing him when you had one too many glasses of wine. Despite your loneliness, you really did try and keep strong. If the two of you were eating together, you’d ask her questions about your husband’s job. M couldn’t answer more than half of them, but did try to help shed some light on this new side of James. 

She couldn’t go into a lot of details, both due to how classified it all was, but because she thought that James should be the one to explain everything.

On the third day, M had informed you that James had sent a message. It was short and didn’t disclose his whereabouts, but you were so relieved that your knees just about gave out from underneath you. 

He was safe.

He was safe and that was all that mattered to you. Several more days would pass before you’d be reunited. 

---

It was the dead of night and, like usual, you couldn’t sleep. M wasn’t home - she said that she would be late - so you had eaten by yourself. While her suite is beautiful, you can’t help but wish that you were home in your little flat. You used to be annoyed about how much the building settled or your neighbors snoring during the night. Now, the lack of noise unsettles you. However, every noise you do happen to hear makes the hairs on your arms stick up.

Especially when you hear the elevator open awfully early in the night.

Somehow, you knew that it wasn’t M. Maybe it was because you didn’t hear her toss her handbag on one of the chairs or that her usual heels didn’t sound like they should. Either way, you had to make sure that everything was okay. You quietly get out of the bed and grab an empty wine bottle. 

Carefully, you slowly twist the doorknob to ease the door open by just a crack. You can just make out a figure that was much bigger than M shuffling around her desk. Unsure of what to do and not wanting to blow your cover immediately, you stay right where you are. He - for it was most definitely a man - straightened himself out and proceeded to make himself comfortable in one her chairs with his back towards you. 

Why would a burglar make himself at home?

As he begins to pour himself a glass, you gently open the door wide enough that you could slip through it. You bless your lucky starts that it doesn’t squeak. 

One, two, three, four steps forward when suddenly two unexpected things happen at the same time.

The man had gotten up, spun around and pointed a gun at your head. 

The elevator doors open to reveal M.

“Good heavens! What is happening?” You watch M hurry in, throwing her bag on a chair. “Bond! Put the gun down!” Your head snaps back around. The look of surprise and alarm was reflected in your husband’s bright blue eyes. You drop the bottle and it shatters. His gun was swiftly tossed aside. 

“James.” You choke back a sob as you run into his arms. He hugs back just as fiercely. 

“(Y/N).” He softly tucks your head into his shoulder and seems to relax in your arms. 

“I missed you.”

“I know.” 

“While this is awfully touching, you have a lot of explaining to do, Bond.” James lifts his head when he hears M say his name. 

“Ah. Yes. I forgot you were here.” You didn’t need to see M’s face to know the look of annoyance she was most likely sporting. 

“Just sit down.” M snaps, but you can tell that it’s half-hearted. James lets go of you, but grabs your hand as he sinks down into the couch. You curl up on his side, his hand still in yours.

You would never know what it was that the two talked about after that because you had fallen asleep as soon as your head settled on his shoulder. 

When you woke up, it was bright out and you were on the couch. Your pillow shifts, making you do a double take. Your pillow was in fact an arm. You shift to your other side and find yourself face to face with your husband’s sleeping face. Gently, you caress his face then plant a kiss on his cheek. 

“That’s hardly what I would call a good afternoon kiss.” James smirks, suddenly wide awake.

“Afternoon?”

“It’s just after one.” He gently pulls you closer to him. “Now, don’t make me wait more than I already have...” 

“That makes two of us, doesn’t it-” You kiss him squarely on the mouth then pull back - much to his obvious displeasure. “-Mr. Secret Agent?”

Needless to say, the two of you would take the time to talk things out and bring everything (that’s not classified information) into the light.

I tried really hard with this one, so I hope you all enjoyed it! I kinda feel like the start and the end were rushed... I plan on doing some Jake Lonergan headcanons this week, so that will be fun. Please feel free to send me ideas or requests! It might take a while for me to finish it, but I’ll try my best!

- Simpy

[norarigby]

フェア関西のルームメイト二名 (The Two Roommates from Fair Kansai)

Chapter 2: The Typo

Previous | Next

Description: In which while typing a roommate ad online, the famed Miya Atsumu, (23) MSBY Jackals Setter, makes a detrimental typo that leads to an influx of women applicants. Confused, but not completely opposed (the idiot), Miya Atsumu lands on a formidable candidate. Y/n L/n. A Biotechnology major at Kansai University, looking for a change after her last disastrous roommates and some space from a particular complication. It’s odd, but it’ll work. Maybe a little too well.

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x Reader

Warnings: None!

Word Count: ~1.4k

A/n: Cross posted from my AO3. I update there first, so if you want the chapters sooner, check it out!

To say Atsumu was overwhelmed would be an understatement. When one of the athletic directors approached him saying how his phone kept going off in the locker room, he was concerned something was seriously wrong. As a precaution, they assure him that if it was an emergency that he should feel free to take the day. But upon closer inspection, he quickly realized that wouldn’t be necessary. He scrolled through what seemed like pages of messages and missed calls about the ad. And not just any inquiries, but…

“ALL WOMEN!” Atsumu exclaimed loudly in the busy shop. A few annoyed heads turned to the source of the outburst.

Osamu rolled his eyes, “‘Tsumu, we talked about this. Having you come during busy hours is already enough of a nuisance, but could you keep it down? This is still a public place.”

“But ‘Samu! What am I going to do?” Atsumu whisper-shouted like it would help his outburst, but it still elicited a few head turns, “I already didn’t want to room with a stranger! And now all of the applicants are girls? This has to be some sort of joke.”

Osamu helped with the line and handed out a few orders to customers before focusing some energy on his dramatic brother. “Well, did you specify that you were only looking for male roommate?”

Atsumu picked at the stray rice grains on his plate as he tried to remember what he wrote. He couldn’t remember specifying anything about the roommate themselves; focusing mainly on the apartment itself. He voiced his thoughts to his brother.

“Hmm, well Atsumu can be a girl's name. Maybe that’s why?”

He tried not to be offended at his brother’s comment, mainly because he was partially right. It’s possible that they’re assuming he’s a girl. But that doesn’t make entire sense either. Is it possible his fan club found the posting? That seemed pretty possible. Atsumu knew fangirls could get crazy when they wanted to be.

Osamu finished some things behind the bar and went over to sit by Atsumu. The two contemplated his conundrum over a fresh plate of onigiri. After Osamu’s second, he spoke up, “Just for science, can I see your ad?”

Atsumu gave him an incredulous look, but pulled up the ad anyway, “I mean, sure, but I don’t think-”

At Atsumu’s sudden silence, Osamu’s curiosity was piqued, “”Tsumu? Everything okay?”

Wordlessly he handed the phone over and Osamu read through the ad. Immediately after reading, he burst into laughter.

“‘Samu! This isn’t funny!”

But Osamu was laughing so hard he couldn’t even speak. Some of his employees turned out of concern and curiosity at their boss’ sudden burst. Eventually, he calmed down enough to choke out a “you are in some trouble, ‘Tsumu”.

Roommate Wanted.

Master Bedroom available with a private bath in a 100 sq m apartment in Osaka. In-unit wash, AC, dishwasher, internet, etc. Fully furnished (besides bedroom available). Rent with utilities is 62784¥. Near public transportation. Feel free to contact with questions or offers.

06-XXXX-XXXX

Text/Call

Miya Atsumi

--

“Alright, that wraps it up for today. Finish the calculations on your own time and be sure to bring back your completed form by next class. See you Tuesday!”

The sound of chairs scraping against the floor harmonized with the zipping and unzipping of backpacks as the classroom got up to leave. Y/n pulled out her phone to finally check her messages.

From: Mom

Found a listing in Osaka that looks interesting. Good apartment with really good pricing. You should give them a call.

(link)

Y/n typed a quick thank you before clicking on the link. Her mom was right. It looked like a decent location and a not too bad price. Trying to look for any information on the roommate (roommates?), all she could see was a number and a name at the bottom of the ad. What a strange listing. It was probably the shortest listing she’d ever come across--and definitely the most to the point.

Y/n sat and stared at the listing for a little bit while weighing her options. She just got out of an interesting situation in Suita, but she was now living with her parents. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but both her and her parents weren’t exactly jumping at the idea of her moving back in, especially with her graduating college next year.

Making up her mind, she copied the number and sent a quick text to the number on the ad. A silent prayer was sent to whoever was listening. This wouldn’t fix all of her problems, but this would solve a big one and she swore she would be able to handle the rest.

--

“And you told me I was loud,” Now Atsumu was getting antsy about the amount of people staring at his hysteric brother. “”Samu, you need to calm down.”

This had been going on for at least ten minutes now. Osamu would read through the ad, get sent into a fit of laughter, finally calm down, but then would read it again and the cycle would start all over again. Not used to being the responsible twin, in addition to being extremely embarrassed by his brother’s reaction to his typo, Atsumu was at a loss for what to do. He tried sending reassuring smiles to patrons and mumbled some apologies, but that was the extent of his capabilities.

Finally, Osamu calmed down and pushed Atsumu’s phone back to him. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Osamu tried to console his brother, “Hey, maybe this won’t be such a bad thing. Surely, there’s at least one of those girls that you could at least be civil with.”

Atsumu scrolled through his messages again, exacerbated, “Even if that’s true! There’s too many! I don’t really have the time to sit and go through all of these.”

There were at least 100 people who had responded to his ad and where the messages definitely weren’t flooding in as much as they had earlier that day, he would get a notification about once every 15-20 minutes. By the time he got through the original applicants, there would be another 100-200 to take their place. In between practice and conditioning, there was no way Atsumu was going to be able to get through these all by himself.

“Tell you what,” Osamu leaned back in the chair he was sitting in, “Since this was partially my idea, I’ll help you tonight after I close up. And if we can’t find anyone, I’ll help you write up a better listing and we can delete this one.”

Atsumu’s other issue with all of these applicants is that he really didn’t want to spend energy looking through dozens of descriptions and deciding if he would like them or not. He assumed it would be like the dating app he had for a couple weeks, but worse. Atsumu really didn’t like the idea of judging someone based on a single paragraph they wrote about themselves. He preferred a more personal approach. Like with the various spikers and teammates he’d played with over the years, he was really good at reading people in person. Within a short conversation, he could pretty accurately lay out a person’s personality (what things they might like, what might make them tick, what things they were indifferent to). Over the internet it was much more difficult.

He guessed he could always ask them to meet in person, right? That was something people did. They could meet at his brother’s restaurant so then Osamu could get a feel for the other person. Atsumu figured it would also get one glaring issue out of the way: he was a guy.

It was a fool proof plan. Osamu and him would sort through the applicants tonight and he would invite them to meet him in person. This way he can see if it’s going to work or not and if they aren’t comfortable with rooming with a guy they can just leave. Genius!

Atsumu recounted his plan to his brother and Osamu was in agreement. With that, the blonde brother left to go to afternoon conditioning, planning on returning just before close to sneak in a few more onigiri from his brother before the long haul.

[tsukikento]

Empathetic Chapter 16 (Please Read A/N for Update)

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Summary: After your mom, the number 1 hero in America, gets offered a teaching position at U.A., you two pack up your things and head to Musutafu, Japan to start a new life. Pressure for you in America was at an all-time high, and now you’re in Japan, where almost no one knows you, or your family’s past.

This tale starts on your first day of class where your new teacher decides the best way for you to fit in is to fight against the strongest person in your class: Bakugou Katsuki.

Warnings/Genre: This piece will feature some angst and reference to an abusive parent, if you are ever worried about other tw’s feel free to send me an ask and I will let you know. There will also be fluff, slight angst, pining, and slowburn.

A/N: Two chapters in one month?? Your super nice and amazing comments always want to make me write so much more! I’m glad I had some extra time this week to get things out. PLEASE READ NOTE BELOW:

With the recent chapters of the manga in mind, I want to make note that this story is non-canon. I want to keep this story cohesive and not spoil anything that is not in the anime. However, there may be discrepancies or differences because I started writing during the overhaul arc. I understand a lot of people don't read the manga and some things have happened that could impact what I plan to do with this story. So, please keep in mind that this is not canon, but is set in the second year. My main goals are clarity within this story and not spoiling anything. Thank you!

(series masterlist)

The next few weeks passed in a blur because your schedule was now much more packed with various activities. You had cooking on Monday, training with Aizawa-sensei and Shinsou every Tuesday and Friday, and training with Bakugou every Wednesday and Sunday.

On top of that, physical training had increased throughout the class because of the approaching sports festival and many people were asking to train with you. So far, you had trained with the girls a couple of times as well as in other small study groups when the spaces were rented out. Everyone was rather nice about inviting when they could, although you didn’t always say yes.

As of now, it was the Wednesday before the Sports Festival. Class ended with a big endurance workout and then some stretches. Each student was breathing heavily and slowly making their way back to the lockers to change. Knowing you would be training with Bakugou in the next hour, you didn’t want to shower, but also didn’t want to switch back into your school uniform because it would become dirty.

However, you immediately changed your mind as you saw how sweaty you were in the mirror. Strands of hair were stuck to your face from sweat and your face was clearly flushed.

“Did I look this bad all of class?” You frantically asked Momo and Jirou who were ruffling through their own lockers.

Jirou let out a few snickers at your reaction while Momo shook her head and smiled sweetly.

“You don’t look bad at all,” Momo explained while she applied deodorant.

“You’re too nice,” You replied, waving hero off sheepishly before looking to Jirou, “Tell me the truth, Jirou-san.”

“You don’t look too bad,” She responded, “All of us look like a mess. I don’t think anyone would really notice if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You hummed a response, not quite satisfied with her response, but also not about to beg her to call you either gorgeous or hideous. You turned back to your locker, deciding last minute to take a shower. You weren’t going to wash your hair, but you would borrow the hairbrush you knew Ashido has in order to fix your hair.

Once finally clean, with hair neatly brushed and tied back from your face, you leisurely walked back with Ashido and Hagakure to grab your school bags.

“So, now that I am officially in a relationship,” Ashido began, “I figured it was time I played matchmaker for you two hopeless romantics,” The kindred girl skipped ahead of you and Hagakure with a wide smile.

You chuckled low in your throat. “I don’t think that really describes us well,” You retorted, trailing behind slightly.

Ashido simply waved you off and moved around to throw her arm around Hagakure. “What about you, Toru-chan? Do you want me, who is in a steady relationship, to help you and Ojiro?”

“Um,” The invisible girl tentatively started. She was clearly unsure how Ashido would be able to help. “I’m okay with my relationship with Ojiro right now…”

“Really?” Ashido inquired. “You’re okay with just being his friend?” Your small group rounded the corner, approaching the classroom.

“Well,” You were sure Hagakure would be blushing if she wasn’t invisible. “I don’t want to push him into anything because he is shy and likes to go slow. I think it is best if it happens naturally.”

Ashido visibly harrumphed before looking back at you. “Y/L/N-chan!” She explained, moving from Hagakure to you. “Let me be your wing-woman!”

You slid open the classroom door, head turned to reply to Ashido. “I’m pretty sure Bakugou would blow you up before you even had a chance to be my wing woman.”

“Meanie,” The pink-haired girl pouted before pushing past you to go to her desk and grab her bag.

“I just don’t know if Bakugou would want anyone to meddle in the too-small relationship we have now,” You explained, walking over to your own desk. Everyone else’s desks were empty, meaning you were the last three people left.

“Yeah, but you are barely spending any time with him. Not only do I know Bakugou well, but I can help you because I’m dating Kirishima,” Mina countered. “I could talk you up, or lowkey make us go on a double date. It would work perfectly.”

You all walked out of the classroom, closing the door after Ashido and Hagakure both exited, and walking toward the lockers at the entrance to change shoes.

“I feel like I spend plenty of time with him,” You reasoned, adjusting your backpack up higher. You were trying to explain yourself without being too descriptive. You saw him every day at school, ate lunch with him, spent time with him three days out of the week, and saw him in the halls occasionally.

“You mean lunches with all of us and cooking dinner once a week with him and Sero?” Ashido countered. “That’s maybe more time than half the class, but it isn’t very much for a romantic relationship.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed loudly. Personally, you weren’t sure if Bakugou would really spend much time with his partner. He wasn’t a very outgoing person to begin with and you imagined that he would want someone who respected his privacy.

After a short debate, you decided it was best to tell your friends about the additional time you had spent with Bakugou. The time you spent with him was more heavily focused on training than anything else, meaning this information wouldn’t change too much about what your relationship with him meant.  “You can’t say anything, okay?” You began your confession. You felt safe telling them but wanted to make sure it stayed in your small circle of friends.

Both girls turned towards you. Ashido’s eyes were wide with curiosity.

“Bakugou and I have been training together every Wednesday and Sunday,” You simply said.

“Huh?” Hagakure spoke up, “Like, you guys happen to be at the gym at the same time?”

“No,” You clarified, “Like, we meet up every Wednesday and Sunday for hours to train together.”

“What?” The pink-haired girl screeched. She turned and moved to be in front of you in order to stop you in your tracks. “Really?”

“Why would I lie?” You replied, shrugging easily.

“I don’t know,” She shot back with a cheeky smile. She looked down and nervously bit on her lip. “I just can’t believe it.” Before you could say anything else, she looked up at you. “I don’t think you even need my help, Y/L/N-chan!”

“Thanks,” You laughed out.

The three of you began walking again before separating to go to each of your respective lockers. You grabbed a couple of textbooks, put a few things from your bag away and into the locker, as well as switched your shoes. You met back up with Hagakure and Ashido at the door and exited together.

The silence was quickly ended by Ashido. “I can’t believe you are training with him.”

“Is it really that unheard of?” You inquired.

“I mean, he doesn’t really train with anyone. The fact that he is training with you is a good sign,” Ashido explained. “But that is also giving you an insane opportunity to spend time with him that almost no one else gets.”

“Wow,” Hagakure finally added. She turned to face you. “You really are lucky huh?”

You felt your cheeks flush. “Oh, well, um,” You stuttered, “I don’t think I’m that lucky. It’s probably just a coincidence.”

Ashido scoffed, “Yeah, we’ll see.”

You simply rolled your eyes at the girls and followed Ashido as she went on to talk about Kirishima while leading you all back to the dorms.

As subtly as possible, you pulled out your phone to check your notifications. Bakugou would often text you after class or in the morning to let you know where he wanted to meet that day. Frequently, it would be in the cityscape, because it was best for his quirk.

In reflection, you were often mostly working for his benefit. Although you definitely improved through practice, small details like the location of the training, or discussion on what to improve often revolved around the blond boy.

You bit your lip, debating if it was bad.

On one hand, you were happy to spend time with him, help him, and still improve yourself.

On the other, is it a bad sign that he is unwilling to help improve your skills?

Well, it’s not like he is unwilling. I’ve never asked, you reasoned. And maybe he doesn’t know how to help me like I know how to help him because I grew up in a hero family.

You sighed at the predicament just as your phone vibrated with Bakugou’s decision on where to meet.

Let’s meet right outside the dorm room. No hero costume necessary.

That’s new. Sure, the first time you met outside the dorms so he could show you where the cityscape was, but he hadn’t done that since.

You shoved your phone back into your pocket as Ashido opened the door to the dorm house. You each quickly went your separate ways. Hagakure rushed to the bathroom, Ashido went to grab a snack, and you went upstairs to change and get ready.

You did your best to tidy up quickly. You didn’t need your hero costume, but you still might be doing some form of combat or exercise so you needed to dress in workout clothes. You dressed in comfortable, dark leggings and a sports bra to match. On top, you wore a sweat-resistant shirt and styled your hair to keep it out of your face.

You bit your lip as you looked in the mirror and thought over what you could do to make your appearance any better. This probably isn’t even something Bakugou thinks about, you thought as your forced yourself to look away and grab your phone.

You had just enough time to pack a small bag with your belongings and go downstairs to fill up your water bottle. When done, you popped your head outside the front door to see if Bakugou was waiting. With five minutes to spare, you were here before the short-tempered boy. And so, you sat down at the large couches by the door and waited for Bakugou to come down while scrolling through your phone.

“I thought I told you to wait outside,” You heard a gruff voice say. You looked up from your phone to see Bakugou walking towards the kitchen to fill his own water.

“I didn’t know how long you would take,” You reasoned and smiled at the blond before getting up to meet him in the kitchen. In reality, you were waiting no more than two minutes before he came down.

“You know I would never be late,” He retorted while screwing the cap onto his bottle.

You shrugged in response, not bothering to reply verbally. The conversation died down as you followed behind Bakugou and out of the house. “So, where are we going?” You asked as you closed the door behind the both of you.

“The library,” Bakugou explained. “I want to do some theorizing stuff, maybe some combat after.”

You hummed and followed behind him on the short trek to the library. “Is there anything specific on your mind?” You inquired, considering this isn’t something Bakugou had wanted to do before.

“The sports festival is this weekend and I want to win. I was thinking we could watch old highlights and strategize what the possible challenges could be and how to approach them,” Bakugou described.

“And we can’t just do this in the dorms?” You shot back.

“Shuddup,” He responded. “It’s always easier to study in a computer lab rather than our rooms.”

“I guess,” You simply replied, not really caring about where you were when you would be analyzing old clips from sports festivals in the past.

“I guess,” Bakugou mimicked back, a habit he formed quickly when you began to talk more. Anytime your accent sounded a little off, just slightly weird, the blond would repeat it, emphasizing the mistake, and snickering at it.

“Oh shut up, you idiot,” You snapped back, not too harshly slapping his name on his arm.

“What?” He loudly reasoned while still laughing. “I’m trying to help you speak better Japanese.”

“No, you aren’t,” You rolled your eyes at him shrugging, “You are just laughing at me.”

Bakugou feigned surprise, gasping and putting his hand onto his chest. “How dare you? I am in the top 10 of our grade academically, and your accent has only gotten better since I started doing this.”

“Yeah, well you suck ass at English,” You mumbled in response.

“I don’t need to have a perfect accent if I am speaking English in Japan,” He retorted before pulling open the door to the school. It led to the library and computer lab that was a few stories up.

“When you speak English here, you will most likely be doing hero work with tourists that unfortunately got caught in something,” You reasoned, “They won’t be able to understand you well if at all when you don’t study tonal English.”

Realistically, yes, they would be able to understand Bakugou. However, you were currently butt-hurt and unwilling to compliment him.

“Then I will leave the talking to you.” Bakugou pressed the elevator door button and waited until it dinged and the doors opened to walk in.

“And you expect me to just be there in the field with you?” You questioned, following behind him.

“What?” Are you going back to America?” He asked back. His voice had a different tone to it. He was no longer teasing you and instead of asking a genuine question.

You pushed away the want to analyze this difference in inflection, knowing it would make you look like an idiot for pausing to reply for so long. “Not anytime soon,” You finally replied, “But we can’t predict the future, and I have no clue where I will go after graduation.”

“Well, you should stay here,” Bakugou simply said.

You couldn’t help but shoot him a shocked and curious look. “Does the Bakugou Katsuki really want me to stay in Ja—”

“It’s not like that, you idiot!” He interrupted you. “Japan is just a lot better for heroism than America so you will learn more and be better if you stay here.”

He had a pout on his face that begged you to not tease him.

So, you didn’t.

However, you weren’t sure what to say so you simply followed behind Bakugou as he entered the library and beelined it to a table.

“And my name isn’t Ka-TSU-ki,” He finally spoke while placing his belongings onto the table.

You shot him a confused look, “What do you mean?” You placed your own things down to his right.

“Put more accent on ‘Ka’,” He explained easily. “You should rush through it to sound more like KA-tski.”

Bakugou shot you a look as if he was waiting for you to say his name. “What?” You curiously asked.

“Practice,” He motioned for you to speak.

“Uhhh, Ka-tski, KA-tski, Katsuki,” You awkwardly attempted. You felt the heat spread from the bottom of your neck to your cheeks and finally to the tops of your ears.

You weren’t a fool. You knew what using a first name meant in Japanese culture and also knew that no one except Midoriya referred to him by any other name besides Bakugou. For him to so casually have you repeat his first name over and over made your stomach flip.

“Good,” He spoke, voice deep and almost raspy. It made butterflies erupt in your stomach. His tone was… different and it made your head spin crazily. The blond sat down and pulled out his laptop.

“I didn’t bring my computer,” You awkwardly explained.

“That’s fine,” Bakugou immediately replied. “I can rent one out from the library if need be, but we can share earbuds and watch videos on my laptop.”

You gulped down the quickly forming lump in your throat and simply kept watching the blond unpack his bag.

From being able to say his first name without him yelling at you to his tone and his willingness to share, Bakugou was acting unusually. And you were clearly flustered by it. You were sure that if Ashido was here, she would practically be stabbing you with her elbow while she winked at you repeatedly.

Luckily, however, it was just the oblivious and preoccupied Bakugou who was currently opening a tab on his laptop and pulling up videos. You were free to push your chair back, gulp down too much water, and attempt to manage your breathing pattern without him noticing.

Or at least that’s what you hoped.

“Here.”

You looked up from the desk and saw Bakugou holding out an earbud to you. Before grabbing it, your eyes trailed down the wire that inevitably connected it to Bakugou’s own ear. Bakugou had moved the laptop to be evenly between you two on the desk, he was also leaning in slightly to give your more room with the earbud wire. Finally, he also had a notebook and pen to his left so he could write down notes.

You moved closer to the blond and put in the earbud. You tried your best not to move too close, but Bakugou easily moved closer once you stopped adjusting and his own shoulder was now brushing against yours.

Oh, great, you thought. You felt a tinge of nerves from Bakugou push into you. Because your shoulders were only brushing, sometimes not touching at all, you could really only see his surface-level emotions. More than anything, he was focused and determined.

Bakugou opened a document that already had a plethora of notes. “These are the past 11 years of sports festivals and what challenges were done each time,” He explained as you scanned your eyes over the expansive document. It was organized by year, then by class year, and finally, by challenge done.

You hummed to simply let Bakugou know you heard him as you searched for patterns.

“The most common one is a race,” Bakugou began, “But it is different every time.” He moved his cursor to open a video. “This is a compilation of the 17 races or marathons that were done.”

Without waiting, Bakugou began playing the video. They were short clips, the teacher hosting the sports festival explaining what each step of the race was as well as a few highlights. You took mental notes while Bakugou scribbled away in his notebook. You immediately noticed him angrily grumbling when last year’s highlights came up, it showed Midoriya expertly soaring into first place.

“These definitely favor flight abilities,” You mumbled as the video came to a close. The notation wasn’t so good for your quirk, but you knew Bakugou would have little trouble.

“Yeah,” Bakugou simply replied, well aware of the disadvantage you would have if it was a marathon-based challenge.

“How are you feeling about your maneuverability?” You asked Bakugou, knowing there was little you could do. Well, except hope that a marathon challenge wasn’t in this year’s sports festival.

“I’m fine,” Bakugou responded, before changing the subject, “Races are least common for second years though, so I’m not sure if we should expect it.” Bakugou leaned back in his chair, “I know that U.A. does some stuff to help prevent repetitiveness between the classes within a year, but also between the same class each year.”

“Damn,” You commented, “You really know your stuff.”

“Yeah, well it makes sense to analyze past stuff,” Bakugou explained, “I can train all I want, but analyzing last year definitely helped me too.”

“I wonder if anyone else is doing this,” You thought out loud.

Bakugou simply shrugged and turned back to his computer. “Usually, every second round is a group-based challenge, but they vary a lot.” You nodded in understanding, “The most common one in the past 11 years is a mini-disaster situation. They love doing this for second-years, but it costs a lot so it has only happened 9 times between all three grade levels.” Bakugou once again pulled up a video and began playing clips from the 9 previous disaster situations.

The first time it was ever done, the teachers played it off as a real situation. It made for great television and a realistic view of how heroes work in the field, but the audience was unaware of the decision and it terrified them. There were actors in place as villains and civilians, but U.A. ended up apologizing and doing it the next year with multiple variations and adjustments to be more family-friendly.

“They didn’t do this last year,” Bakugou elaborated, “So I think they will this year.” He moved back to a new document. It had each year’s disaster detailed on it. It listed hat was the problem, the main highlights, as well as who won and the quirks the team had.

“The grading of this challenge is based on the team’s ability to work well together, how they work against the villain, and how they help rescue the designated civilians.” Bakugou paused for a beat, “I know you haven’t done the hero provisional license, but it is similar to the task during that test, just on a smaller scale.”

You nodded in understanding while reading over the group’s quirks. “Do you know if the students got to pick their teams?” You asked.

“I couldn’t find anything on it, but for our team-based challenge last year, we were allowed to pick groups,” Bakugou replied.

“Who would you pick then?” You asked him, partially out of curiosity for his strategy and partially hoping he would say your name.

Bakugou hummed in thoughts, “Most teams in the past were five people, and I don’t know how great I would be with helping civilians.” Bakugou paused in thought, “I think you, Kirishima, and Ashido would be great with that.”

And there go the butterflies once again erupting in your stomach.

“You would also allow us to communicate across the field, Kirishima would be great for defense if the villains ever attacked the civilians, and Ashido has a great offensive attack and personality that would keep people calm.” He paused for a few moments, “I also think Sero would be great with saving civilians and then moving to help in the offensive.”

“Isn’t that the same team you had last year?” You questioned. You wanted to tease him for being so willing to compliment people, but you knew he would react badly. You made a mental note to tell Ashido later.

“Well, I added you!” Bakugou defended, voice rising in volume slightly.

The librarian shushed him and you snickered at his angry face. “Calm down,” You reassured, placing your hand onto his own.

It was a habit to touch people and help them, you weren’t even thinking about how it would change his feelings. However, you immediately felt the heat from his hand warm your cool skin without processing exactly what you were doing. Although your mind wanted you to snatch your hand back once you felt his warmth, you knew it would only make the situation weirder. Instead, you pushed away his anger and calmed him just slightly, trying not to push your own nerves onto him.

Bakugou looked at you with wide eyes before his face relaxed. Similar to before, you felt his nerves rush into your body. It honestly made you more nervous. Knowing that your focus on nerves would only worsen both of yours, you pulled your hand back, trying your best to seem casual. Thoughts rushed through your head as you tried to figure out why he became so nervous when you touched his hand with your own.

You weren’t an idiot.

You knew what type of nerves he had.

It wasn’t sickness-related and it definitely wasn’t an anxiety-induced nerve. It was the same type of nerves you felt when your stomach would flip at the rare sight of Bakugou smiling. It was the same flutter of your heart when you saw Bakugou dressed in his hero costume.

You could even see the small blush forming on the tips of his ears and cheeks, only helping to confirm your assumptions.

If you didn’t stop yourself, you would have already stumbled out an apology before grabbing your belongings and rushing out of the library. Except, if you did do that, it would be a dead giveaway that you understood his nerves.

Something you reminded yourself over and over was that if anything was going to happen with the blond, you would need to be patient. Over the past few weeks, as you two have grown closer, it was patience and understanding that made him more comfortable around you.

“Sorry,” You apologized after a moment, moving to grab your water and take a few sips.

Bakugou pulled back from you, “It’s okay.”

He knows.

He knows I know.

He knows that I know that he knows.

You closed your eyes tightly to push your anxious thoughts away.

How could he know? He’s just as nervous as I am if not more!

“Sometimes I forget my quirk will just go off, I didn’t mean to change your feelings,” You explained. Although helpful, sometimes it was best for people to feel out their emotions and learn to change them on their own.

“It’s okay,” Bakugou repeated, “It’s for the best anyways. I’d hate to be kicked out of the library…again.”

“Again?” You questioned, quirking your eyebrow at the blond.

Bakugou nodded, laughing at himself slightly. “Yeah, it was when I was tutoring Kaminari last year. That idiot can be so stupid sometimes, I couldn’t hold back my screams when he told me the 4 squared was 8.”

You chuckled at Bakugou’s story, covering your mouth slightly to muffle your laughs. “Oh my god,” You exclaimed in surprise.

“I know,” Bakugou confirmed. “I don’t think he would have passed last year if I wasn’t there to tutor him,” Bakugou smirked while watching you giggle at his joke. Once your laughter died down with a deep breath, Bakugou adjusted himself in his chair to face his laptop once again. “Anyways,” He began, “I think the team I mentioned earlier would be great. We would have well-balanced defense and offense.”

You nodded, “I’ll make sure to keep that in mind if we all make it to the second round.”

“Oh, you better,” Bakugou pointed his finger at you. “I don’t care what the first round is, your better be ready to be the second person at the finish line.”

“Second?” You asked, already knowing where this would go.

“Yeah, obviously I am first,” Bakugou said seriously.

You held back your laugh but smiled all the same. “I’m sure you will be first, Bakugou-san. Now, let’s get back to review so we can make that possible.”

Bakugou nodded and began another small speech about the other team challenges. You listened diligently, watched the videos intently, and provided notes and feedback when you had some to say.

You both started a consistent pattern, reviewing each section before talking about how it could be positive or negative for each person. You theorized different abilities and moves you each had that could assist in a challenge. For example, a less common first challenge was a multi-round skills test.

It was much more used in the past but featured small rounds within the challenge that would add up to give people overall grades. Previous rounds featured breathing tests or aim with weaponry of choice.

“And that’s it!” Bakugou sighed, pushing himself back to rest against his chair. At this point, you and Bakugou had been in the library for over three hours with only one break to get up, stretch, and use the restroom.

You quietly whooped and took out the earbud so you could also lean back into your chair. “My back hurts, but this was definitely worth it.”

Bakugou chuckled at your comment, twisting in his chair to crack his back. “Happy to help.”

“If you are so happy to help, are you going to share this with anyone else?” You asked, looking at him from the corner of your eye.

“No,” Bakugou began, “Probably not.” He grabbed his water. “But you grew up in a hero family so you could help strategize more than the other class members.”

“I guess, but you don’t know that.” You turned to face him as he sipped on his drink. “Not only are you making assumptions about my past, but you are making assumptions about the other students as well.”

Bakugou dropped his head and rolled it to the side to look into your eyes with his own, vibrant scarlet orbs. He had a slight smirk on his lips that made you not quite gasp, but a breath in quickly and suddenly. However, it only got worse when his tongue appeared, slowly swiping across his upper lip. You wondered if the action was intentional, or if he could really look this good unintentionally.

“How many times is it now that you’ve come after me for assuming things about you?” He asked, his eyes squinting slightly at you.

You looked away, knowing you couldn’t respond if you continued to watch him. You were tempted to tell him not to look at you that way but also knew that would make him even more conceited and only edge him on. “Often enough for it to bug me and for you to remember. I think that’s a sign you should have learned by now,” You shot back.

“Oof,” Bakugou replied, moving in his seat to be sitting up straighter, he turned to face you more head-on and lay his right arm across the chair. “Why don’t you just clarify your past for me then?”

You eyed Bakugou closely. “Do you not remember what happened the first time you asked that?”

“You mean when you stormed out like you had a temper worse than mine? Of course, I do,” Bakugou shot back. He paused for a moment and you watched him think over his next words carefully, “Aren’t I your closest friend here?” You could tell it was to more so tease you, but you also wondered, due to his pause, if he was hoping you would say yes.

You scoffed at his comment, “Shouldn’t that be Ashido or Hagakure?” There was a fine line between complimenting Bakugou, revealing your feelings, and just making him more conceited. You feared that if you played into his idea about you two being close, it would give him an upper hand in your relationship. You were not willing to let Bakugou tease you and make you blush like a fool.

Well, it's not like you had too much of a choice in the matter though.

“Oh, please!” Bakugou retorted, “You spend so much more time with me than you do with them.”

“I also spend a lot of time with Shinsou,” You replied.

It was almost like a tug of war. Bakugou wanted you to admit that you spent so much time with him that he was practically your default best friend while you were trying to prove that you weren’t reliant on him. It’s not that the amount of time you spent with him was bad, not at all. You just didn’t want to tell him the truth because it would make him too confident.

“Who?” Bakugou asked, looking at you with a confused expression.

“Are you serious?” You laughed, “Are you really that unbelievably bad with names?” When Bakugou didn’t bother to reply, you continued, “Purple hair? Mind control quirk?”

“Him?” Bakugou exclaimed once realization dawned on him, “How are you spending so much time with that guy?”

“I’m interning with him and Aizawa-sensei,” You explained. “I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before.”

Bakugou slumped over his chair and pouted, “I would have remembered that. Why are you even interning with him?”

“Well, if you must know Bakugou-san,” You began, “I don’t have my provisional license and need a way to train. Plus, our quirks work well together. Aizawa-sensei wants us to get our licenses as soon as possible because he wants to see how well we work together in the field.”

Bakugou grumbled something you couldn’t quite hear so you simply ignored it.

“Are you actually upset?” You asked him, noticing his telltale signs of jealousy, but not quite believing he could be the jealous type. Or if you were worth being jealous over.

“No!” He immediately shot back, earning him another shush from the professor. “I just didn’t know you were training with other people too.”

You didn’t believe this was jealousy over you training with other people but knew pushing the subject would make Bakugou irritated. Forcing someone to share their feelings and emotions was never ideal. You could push slightly to see if they would open up, but if the situation isn’t severe, and you receive push back, it is best to let it go for the time being.

You saw the pout on his lips and simply laughed at his cute and childish actions. “What’s gonna make you feel better, huh? Should I tell you about my family’s deep, dark past?”

Bakugou scoffed and turned his body away from yours slightly. “Don’t tease me.”

“What do you mean?” You asked. “You doubt that my family has a dark past? Doesn’t every hero family have one?”

Bakugou called your bluff, “Then go ahead, tell me yours.”

You paused, not sure what to do. “Okay, w-well,” You stumbled over your words slightly, “It’s not that I don’t have one. I just didn’t expect you to actually ask me to tell you.”

You felt nerves erupt in your stomach, wondering how Bakugou would react to you backing out.

Bakugou laughed lightly, moving in his chair to sit up straight and look at you. “I’m never going to force you to tell me anything, but I’ll be here whenever you are ready.”

Oof.

There goes your heart rate, skyrocketing at Bakugou’s words. You did not at all expect a reaction like this. You didn’t know him for long, and you were well aware that you were on a good side that very few saw, but that comment was out of character for him. Or maybe, rather than being out of character, it was a new side of Bakugou even fewer people saw. You wondered if Kirishima had ever seen this side, or if this kind and patient attitude was reserved for the people he was most fond over.

Could this comment really be the key indicator in demonstrating that Bakugou had feelings for you? The anxiety and doubt that was ever so prominent in your life washed over you like a wave trying to rationalize why Bakugou would say something like that without concluding the specialness it held.

While you panicked, Bakugou began packing up his bag, putting away his laptop and notebook. He could see the gears turning in your head, and he knew that his comment pushed past the walls each of you set up in your friendship.

But maybe he didn’t care. However, it’s not like you could tell with the earbuds in that prevented you from reading his mind.

“You ready to go?” He asked while you stared into space like an idiot. He leaned into your line of view to bring you out of it.

“Huh?” You blinked a few times before locking eyes with the blond. “Yeah,” Your hoarse voice croaked out. Your throat had gone drier than you expected. You grabbed your bag and water quickly, “Do you want to go train at all?”

Bakugou looked out the windows, watching the sun start to set. “It’s a bit late, and I’m sure dinner is ready by now.” He looked down at his phone, “I can’t believe it’s almost 7:00.”

“Really?” You inquired, leaning toward him to check the time on his phone. “Damn, I didn’t expect us to be here so long.” You moved back to give yourself room to stretch. “We’ve been sitting for so long, I feel like I should do yoga and go on a run just to make up for it.”

Bakugou smiled at you, much kinder than you would expect him to. You felt the butterflies once again flutter in your stomach as you turned away to hide your face. Your cheeks were hot, and your mind was rushing quickly with ideas of what today meant. You definitely needed to talk to Ashido.

“If you’re still up for it after dinner, I’d love to go with you to the gym,” Bakugou offered.

“Is the gym usually busy at night?” You asked, trying to brush past his proposition. The idea that Bakugou wanted to spend more time with you than he already did was driving you crazy.

“Hmm, good question.” Bakugou started. “There are a few different ones on campus so that some can be reserved for groups or training sessions with teachers, but I don’t think a lot of people go after dinner. If you’re worried about that, we can always go to the track and use the yoga room which is always quiet and chill.”

You shrugged your shoulders and smiled at the red-eyed boy, “Either sounds good! Now let’s get back so I can eat.” You pouted and rubbed your stomach.

Bakugou snorted at your behavior before leading the way and opening the door for you. The conversation between you two flowed easily, with it mainly revolving around the class and the sports festival.

When you arrived home, you were each greeted by your classmates. Bakugou didn’t bother to reply to their greetings and instead rushed upstairs to drop off his things. You, on the other hand, immediately went to Ashido’s side.

“Bathroom, now.”

You pulled her away from Kirishima’s side and led her into the bathroom before checking to make sure no one else was in there.

“You and Bakugou didn’t even hide that you came home together, literally in front of everyone,” Ashido said before you even had a chance to speak.

“I know!” You exclaimed, smiling widely at the idea. You looked from Ashido to the mirror and checked your appearance, luckily, you still looked just as good when you left. “We literally hung out in the library for over 3 hours, talking about the sports festival, other shit, and being way too close to each other.” You turned back to your friend.

Ashido shook you in excitement while she squealed. “Are you going to give me details or what?” She asked after finally letting you go.

“Yes, of course, okay.” You tried your best to collect your thoughts. “First off, we were watching videos on his laptop, so we were sharing his earbuds and sitting so close that our shoulders were touching.”

“Oh my god!”

“Not only that,” You continued, “But anytime our shoulders did brush, I could tell that, although he was focused on the videos, he was also nervous because of how close he was to me.”

“No fucking way!”

“I know!” You practically shouted. “And you know how I am interning with Shinsou,” She nodded, “He literally was jealous when I brought it up. I didn’t even have to touch him to know because he was pouting, getting defensive, and just clearly upset.”

From per excitement, Ashido practically jumped around the bathroom. “Y/L/N-chan! I think Bakugou likes you!” She spoke in a sing-song voice. The smile on her face was just as wide as yours and you felt your cheeks heat up again.

“You think?” You asked.

She nodded fervently in response.

“Well, guess what?” You began, “I brought up doing yoga and running after dinner and he literally asked to join me.”

“You are literally going on a date,” Ashido immediately insisted.

“No, I’m not!” You sheepishly replied, scratching at your face and looking away. “That’s a little much.”

“Sure,” Ashido mocked you. “And sky totally isn’t blue.”

You rolled your eyes at the girl and waved her off. “I just want to take things slow,” You explained.

Ashido leaned in closer to you, “And that is why you are a great match for him.” She smiled widely, “I totally bet you guys will be together before the end of the year.”

You laughed, “Don’t make a bet on my relationship.”

“Okay, okay,” Ashido held her hands up in defeat. “But just know I’m in your corner.”

You smiled at your friend fondly before changing the subject. “Anyways, I’m hungry. Do you know what is for dinner?”