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bokutoslittlebird · 4 years

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Threesome with Bokuto Kōtarō and Akaashi Keiji

Alpha!Bokuto x Beta!Reader x Beta!Akaashi

Warnings: Omegaverse, double penetration, dubcon, creampies, some BokuAka action (bc those are my babies), this is long

Summary: After presenting as a Beta, your mother decided being friends with an Alpha wasn’t good for him. After moving, you befriended another Beta, Akaashi Keiji. After years of not getting over your childhood crush, you never expected to see him again as your best friend’s mate. Akaashi can’t take care of Bokuto through his entire rut, so he lets Bokuto have some fun. There’s a lot of catching up to do between you two, anyways.

— 5 years old, [Y/N]

“You need to stop hanging around that boy, [Y/N],” your mother had said to you one evening. You had looked at her confused, wondering what Kōtarō had to do with your homework. She continued, ignoring the look on your face. “He’s presented as an Alpha. You need to stop hanging around him.”

“That doesn’t matter, mommy. He’s my friend,” you had said, not quite understanding. “I don’t want to hurt him.”

“[Y/N], listen to me. He doesn’t want to be with someone like you. Stop hanging out with him.” At the time, you didn’t understand what your mother was saying. You thought that she had thought your friend didn’t want you as a friend. You’d prove her wrong when you finished your homework.

You had finished the work and immediately went to yours and Kōtarō’s spot, seeing the familiar spiked up hair on the young boy. His frown was unusual, though. “Kō-chan?”

“My mom said we can’t hang out anymore,”

— present day

You woke to the alarm from your phone, the rhythmic beat of the song shooing away the traces of sleep. Your eyes fall to the calendar across your room, seeing you had to work today. With a promise of a hot bath and a treat of ramen after your shift, you are able to get out of bed and get ready to start the day.

Your work shift was simple, just taking orders and making coffee for customers, occasionally bringing treats to customers at the tables. It was normal, right down to when your friend walked in. “Keiji!”

“[Y/N],” he smiled, not having the same enthusiasm but enough to satisfy you. You had met Keiji after you moved, shortly after Kōtarō ended his friendship with you. Keiji had presented as a Beta, just like you, so yours and his mother encouraged playdates and study sessions at each other’s house, hoping a relationship would bloom. “The usual, please,”

“You sure? The season specialty is here! I know you like pumpkin,” your smile turned into a smirk, knowing you had got him when his eyes widened. The season specials were ready to serve, but nobody had switched the menus up.

“Hm, I think I’ll go with the pumpkin latte for today,” he finally said, after weighing his options. You smiled and put in the order, knowing exactly how to work his buttons. “I’ll have to let my boyfriend know,”

“Oh?” That was new information. A week ago, Keiji said he was going to die single because everyone’s an idiot. Now he’s got a lover? “Do tell,”

“He’s an Alpha, but his parents don’t care. Don’t tell mom. She thinks you’re my soulmate, still,”

You guffawed at that, shaking your head at the memory. You remembered when you got older when Keiji’s mom had started giving you lessons in cooking and sewing, typical ‘wife’ things. Keiji smiled at your dramatic scene of laughing, knowing it was how you were.

“Wait till she finds out you’re mated to someone else,”

“I prefer to term courting to mate, since I’m plain and boring. He’s anything but, honestly,”

“Perfect match for you, Kei-chan,” you winked, seeing Keiji’s cheeks turn a bit pink at the inside joke. You laughed again, finishing up the last details on the latte.

“He reminds me a bit of you, actually. But without control or a filter,”

“Maybe I am your soulmate, you just don’t like me,”

“Haha, very funny,” he replied, walking off with a little wave. You wiggle your fingers, waving goodbye to him. After watching your friend leave, your shoulders sag a bit, remembering the young boy with white-and-black hair. Back then, you wouldn’t call it a crush. More of an admiration for the boy with no fears and a clear future. With more experience under your belt, you could admit it was a crush. The boy had stolen your heart and crushed it the last time you saw him.

You clean up the counter as the clock ticks, slowly telling you your shift is coming to a close. You feel like you want to cry, but you don’t know why.

The next day, your phone dings with a text message from Keiji, surprised he would shoot a text. He usually called unless he was busy in a meeting or something. Your eyes glance at the screen, trying to finish your essay for one of your classes. The message doesn’t strike you as immediately needing attention, so you ignore it, focusing on the paragraph you’re typing out.

Another ding takes your attention away from the screen completely, knowing Keiji really needed your attention.

[Keiji ❤️ - 12:17 pm]

- Can you bring some fruits to my apartment? I forgot to get some at the store. I’m busy.

[Keiji ❤️ - 12:18 pm]

- please im hungry

The last message startles you, seeing as Keiji always punctuated his texts because, well, he was like that. You quickly typed a reply and made sure to save your document before heading to your kitchen.

[Sweetcheeks😘 - 12:22 pm]

- I’ll be there asap Kei

— 5 years old, Kōtarō Bokuto

“Kōtarō, I need to talk to you,” his mom had said. He looked up at her, a paper hat on his head, a smile on his face. “You need to stop hanging out with [Y/N] so much, baby,”

“Why? Did we do something bad?” He frowned, not understanding. What did he do?

“No, baby, not this time,” she laughed, smiling down at him. Her smile was not full of love and joy, it was sad. “Her mother doesn’t want you two hanging out so much. She said they’ll be moving soon, so I don’t want you to be hurt anymore than you already will be.”

Kōtarō didn’t smile for the rest of the day. After he told his friend they couldn’t hang out anymore, his mother held him in her arms while he cried. It wasn’t fair.

— present day

Kōtarō had been sent home early, with his rut steadily approaching and his fights with Atsumu and Shūgo getting more intense. His ride home was full of anxiety, knowing Keiji couldn’t quite handle ruts very well since he was a Beta. Omegas were meant to handle Alpha ruts all the way through, but Keiji could only handle half of the rut. The last time Kōtarō’s cycle had started, Keiji had to come to where he was, huddled up in an apartment. Keiji couldn’t walk two days after the rut ended, even though he dealt with three out of seven days of the rut.

Kōtarō’s arrival to Keiji’s apartment was slow. His instincts told him to run, but he was able to restrain himself. Keiji opened the door almost immediately after the knock, wrapping his boyfriend in a hug. “I’ve missed you,”

“I’ve missed you, too, Akaashi,” Kōtarō said, indulging in the coffee and minty scent from Keiji, although there was a bit of pumpkin, too. He involuntary let out a growl.

“I had a pumpkin latte earlier,” Keiji immediately said, expecting Kōtarō’s reaction. Instincts came first the closer he got to his rut, Keiji had learned. He could feel the Alpha deflate a bit in his hold, just hugging and scenting. Keiji smiled at that, knowing he would be in for a rough week. “I made a nest. It’s not as good as an Omega’s-“

“You didn’t have to do that,” Kōtarō’s voice was clear and sharp, halting anything Keiji was saying. “You’re not an Omega. You don’t have to act like one,”

“I-I know, Bokuto-san,” Keiji stuttered out, the look in his boyfriend’s eyes startling him a bit. It was intense, but it wasn’t necessarily bad, per se. “I just-“

“I’m not here right now because of your sub-gender. I’m here for you,” Kōtarō’s voice was once again clear and sharp, going right into Keiji’s bones. He’s sure if he was an Omega, he’d be kneeling and begging. For fuck’s sake, he’d have probably entered a heat cycle.

“I know, Bokuto-san. I know,” Keiji leaned against him, reveling in his smell. He couldn’t scent Kōtarō or smell a distinct scent, but Kōtarō obviously came straight to the apartment after practice. He smelled like sweat and deodorant, a strangely pleasant combination.

Kōtarō let out a growl as he felt his rut come on, his hands moving towards Keiji’s ass. In turn, Keiji blushed and cleared his throat, backing up from Kōtarō. He smiled and held up a finger. Kōtarō grinned, straightening his posture. Keiji smiled and ran towards the bedroom, knowing his Alpha was hot on his heels.

The following day, the two lovers were still going at it. Keiji hardly had any rest, only getting his rest once Kōtarō needed to rest, even if Kōtarō claimed he passed out after their third round. A small tease and a mischievous grin had sent Keiji back to being railed by a feral Alpha, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Keiji threw his head into the pillows, drool spilling from his lips and he moaned, having his third orgasm of the day from Kōtarō’s forceful thrusts. On the other hand Kōtarō had only orgasmed once, knotting Keiji and spurring the Beta into a second orgasm almost right after the first. The thrusts didn’t cease, Kōtarō chasing his own release in his mate was the only thought in his mind.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Keiji,” he groaned out, plugging him up with another knot, his orgasm following it. Keiji’s eyes rolled back, digging his nails into Kōtarō’s biceps at the sensation. It stung and was a lot more pain than pleasure, but he couldn’t complain too much.

Kōtarō finished painting Keiji’s walls white, resting his forehead against the man underneath him and catching his breath. Keiji gave him a swift peck on the lips, assuring him he was okay. However, Keiji’s stomach growled at that moment, sending heat to his cheeks.

“I haven’t eaten today,” he realized, talking out loud. Kōtarō may have been an Alpha in a rut, but he was also an Alpha with a mate. Mates needed to be protected and cared for, so his instincts told him he needed to feed his mate. Kōtarō’s eyes immediately went wide. “Don’t move!”

“Ah— sorry! I always forget,” he laughed, adjusting their position so he could lay on his side. Keiji just shook his head, smiling. Kōtarō was a wonderful mate, truly, he just happened to be overly passionate about things he cared for.

Keiji thought to you, how you’d probably enjoy having an Alpha to take care of you. Keiji knew you often overworked yourself and forced yourself to do things, trying to be as independent as possible. He couldn’t be your mate, but he’s had a thought that ends in all sides benefitting - hopefully, at least.

Kōtarō moaned as he slipped from Keiji’s abused hole, the knot finally deflating. “I’ll get you a snack.”

“I have leftovers in the fridge. Bottom left drawer,” he mumbled back, wincing from moving too much. Kōtarō immediately nodded, jogging off to the kitchen, butt-naked. Keiji couldn’t say much. He enjoyed the view.

He winced as he rolled over to his phone, glad he put it on the charger near the Nest yesterday before he got pounded into the mattress. He opened the messages, typing out a quick message for you and sending. He hoped his plan would work out well, but he had faith his calculations were correct.

Hearing the microwave beep meant the food was ready and Keiji still hadn’t gotten a response from you. He typed out another message, hoping you’d actually read this one and put his phone on the floor, face down. Just in time, too, as Kōtarō walked into the bedroom with a freshly heated plate of food.

“Food’s ready!”

— back to you

You had gathered some fruits together, slicing and dicing them as an added flair. Sliced bananas, strawberries, diced watermelon, mangoes, and sliced avocados on slices of bread and cream cheese. You felt like an American middle-aged woman about to attend a brunch with your food choices, but Keiji liked specific fruits specific ways and you knew he only ate avocados on bread with cream cheese.

The ride to Keiji’s apartment only took five minutes, but it felt like it took an hour, your anxiety eating you up at the thought of what Keiji is doing or needs help with. You assumed he needed help with something, but you weren’t positive on what. It could just be as simple as he can’t leave home because his anxiety was too high or it could be something worse — what if his mom got in an accident? The thoughts didn’t stop, making the five minutes much, much longer.

Arriving to Keiji’s apartment, you noticed how dead it seemed outside. You saw a woman on the way up the stairs who gasped as she left her apartment, quickly locking the door and running down the stairs, almost running into you. Confused, you noticed the lights seemed to be off in the other apartments, but that wasn’t too strange. It was a Saturday, but it was midday so people were probably out.

You had a spare key for Keiji’s place, seeing as you often checked up on him; he had a spare for your place, too. Entering the apartment, it was deathly quiet, putting you on edge. There was a certain air about the room that made you feel like you were in a horror movie. As you made your way to the kitchen, you noticed the messily placed dishes in the sink, the shirt in the hallway leading to Keiji’s bedroom, and the duffel bag beside the door. You’re confused. Keiji doesn’t have a duffel bag — not since the old one ripped a couple of years ago.

You ponder whether to go into Keiji’s bedroom or not, worried someone might’ve broken in —that shirt is definitely not his. That’s when you feel a presence. At first, you freeze, wondering if Keiji’s playing a trick on you. It is October after all. You place the container of fruits on the counter and hear a growl, immediately turning around to meet golden eyes and familiar hair.

His eyes were narrowed, obviously pissed, but then his face changed. He seemed confused first, then a dawning came upon him. Next thing you know, you’re picked up and having the life squeezed out of you. “[Y/N]!”

“Kō?” Your tiny voice whispers. You can hardly believe it. Your ex-best friend and childhood crush is in your best friend’s apart— uh oh. “Uh oh,”

“What-Oh?” His voice repeats, looking at you. The Alpha of your dreams is the Alpha of Keiji’s dreams—what a day it’s been. “[Y/N]?”

“I should, um, can you let me down?” He obliged, letting you stand on your feet again. “I need to, um, go. Uh, Keiji wanted fruits so I, uh, brought them. I’m gonna go,” you turned, hoping to tears would stay in until you left. You weren’t expecting Kōtarō to cage you in, effectively trapping you. As a Beta, you didn’t immediately obey an Alpha’s command, but the look in his eyes told you to stay. You obeyed.

“Don’t go. Please,” is all he said, his eyes twinkling. You shook your head, deciding this was a bad idea. “[Y/N].”

“You don’t get to act like nothing happened, Bokuto-san. You stopped being friends with me, remember? I expected you to be breeding an Omega by now. Looks like it was just me,” you spat, feeling the anger you held in boil over. The feeling of your best friend leaving you because of your sub-gender, the feeling of betrayal, remembering how your mother sighed at you and rolled her eyes, telling you she was always right and your friend would never look your way again.

“What?” He peered down at you, no longer hunching over. You realized just how tall he had gotten. “I stopped being friends because you were leaving. You being a Beta had nothing to do with it,”

“Sure, I guess now it doesn’t. Since, you know, you’re with my new best friend. It’s okay, I get it,” you once again tried to leave, but Kōtarō wouldn’t budge. “Move, Bokuto-san.”

“No.” His voice was clear and sharp. You were sure if you were an Omega, you’d be on your knees crying. “I don’t want it to end like this. I want to make amends.” Good thing you weren’t an Omega.

“Well, I don’t care what you want. Let me go,” your own eyes narrowed at him, his face not changing. His body unmoving. You rolled your eyes, deciding to not play this game anymore. Going to duck under Kōtarō’s arm, but his body moved to pin you to the counter. “Dude!”

“You smell different.” Is all the warning you got before you felt his nose in your neck. You felt butterflies at the contact, but also cringed at the display. You then noticed a shadow in the hallway. Attempting to pry Kōtarō off you wasn’t working, so Keiji got to see his boyfriend hunched over you.

“Good, you seem to be getting along again,” he said, a gentle and lazy smile on his face. Surprisingly, Kōtarō didn’t turn around at his mate’s voice, just kept rubbing his nose against you. “I hope you can take care of him,”

“Akaashi Keiji, what the fuck,” you muttered. He didn’t seem concerned his boyfriend was currently nuzzling against you. You noticed the limp in Keiji’s walk and he had one of his hands on the wall.

“I’ve been keeping track of your cycle. You should be ovulating by now. Bokuto-san has told me about his childhood friend before and it took me a while but I figured out it was you,” Keiji kept talking, limping his way to the couch. “I’ll get the fruits later. Bokuto-san, don’t hurt her too much,”

“Hurt me?” You squeaked, eyes widening at the implication. “Keiji, I can’t—“ you started, a scream interrupting your sentence as Kōtarō picked you up and hauled you to the bedroom. He displayed his strength earlier, of course, but the fact you were were on your back in what looked similar to an Omega’s Nest within seconds of the ground leaving your feet was a display that turned you on immensely. If Kōtarō wasn’t currently attempting to strip you, he would have been with the sickly sweet scent you exuded.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he growls out, his hands deciding to rip your very nice shirt into shreds, deciding your movements to get them off were too slow. He offered the same treatment to your bra, your short scream of disbelief when it was torn. He was nice enough to pull off the pants you were wearing, along with your panties. “Ever since my first rut,” he continues, his nose buried against your thighs, his tongue licking a hot stripe against it. You whined at the contact, full on knowing he could smell your arousal. “I thought I’d never find you again.”

“Boku-“

“No. Not here. Call me your Alpha, little Beta,”

“Uh-“ you stopped, unsure of the situation. Kōtarō, regardless of your feelings, was with Keiji. That alone made you hesitant, even if Keiji literally told Kōtarō to go for it. You felt weird having to call him your Alpha anyways, since you were never subjected to those Alpha/Omega relationships. You can’t say you weren’t interested in it, often just having fun with other Betas and maybe an Alpha or two during their ruts (you vividly remember helping an attractive Alpha in your last year at Nekoma, rendering you unable to walk for the next two days). Neither of them called you by your sub-gender, nor made you call them Alpha. You obviously hesitated, taking a trip down memory lane much too long, since Kōtarō’s hand had wrapped itself around your jaw, forcing you to look at him. You didn’t think your old childhood friend would be so.. rough.

“I’m waiting, little one. Call me your Alpha,” he growled out, again. The growling was doing wonders to you, making you wetter by the second. Another growl came out, spurring you to speak.

“I- Alpha, we can’t do this. We need to talk-“

“You can try to talk, but I’m gonna fill you to the brim until my cum is seeping out of your cunt. Let’s see how well you do.” Kōtarō immediately went down to your nether regions, your folds glistening to show him just how turned on you were. Your face was hot, practically burning when his eyes locked on, unmoving from the sight. He wasn’t looking long, getting a startled scream from you as he buried his face between your legs, lapping at your juices. Your hand went to his hair, the hair as soft as you had hoped, as he continued to drink from your pussy as if it was his last drink on earth. Your other hand was bunching up a nearby shirt, one you had left at Keiji’s two days ago after a night of drinks. If you weren’t so busy rolling your eyes into your skull as your mouth hung open, moans spilling from your lips, you’d have noticed the mix of yours and Keiji’s clothes in the Nest.

Kōtarō continued to be relentless, pushing two fingers into your heat as you were clenching your thighs around his head. You were worried you’d hurt him, but he was an Alpha in every shape and form — if he wanted to stop you, he’d do it. He knows he’s in control. Adding a third finger brought you to your first orgasm of the day, feeling exhausted afterwards. Kōtarō rose from between your legs, his eyes immediately finding your glossy ones. He smiled and licked his lips. Then, wiping the slick from his lower face with his hand to get the excess that his tongue couldn’t get and then licking it off, his eyes never breaking contact.

“So sweet, I’m already addicted,” his grin got darker, his body crawling up until his hands were on both sides of your head and his lips were slotted against yours. His tongue darted between his lips, into your already open mouth, deepening the kiss. You were so in bliss from the after-orgasm high and kissing your crush, you didn’t even feel the head of Kōtarō’s cock pushing into you.

Kōtarō threw his head back, moaning at the tight fit. You mewled, it being some time since someone entered you, the feeling almost foreign. It didn’t hurt, thankfully, the wetness Kōtarō created more than enough to help him slide in. He didn’t stop, he just kept pushing in until the beginning of his knot was flush against you. Another growl erupted from Kōtarō, the only warning you got before he pulled out only to slam back in. The sudden movement had your back arching and your head against the plush pillows of the Nest. It was the green light for Kōtarō.

Your knees were pushed to your shoulders, the position momentarily uncomfortable until your mind was replaced with the burning and overwhelming sensation of Kōtarō pounding into you liked a man starved. Moans were bouncing off the walls, along with Kōtarō’s grunts, mixed with the sound of skin slapping skin as his thighs continuously met your ass. Your hands switched from fisting fabric to winding around Kōtarō’s neck as he buried his face into your neck, his panting and grunts loud in your ears. You felt the coming of another orgasm, the familiar tightening in your abdomen and the arching of your back being a few indicators. Your nails raked against Kōtarō’s back, leaving angry red streaks in their place. Another grunt from Kōtarō and you felt a painful sensation you hadn’t felt before — a knot. The added pain before the height of your pleasure sent you over the edge, mewling out Kōtarō’s name as you did.

Kōtarō had you plugged up, him spilling his seed into your hot walls. You whined at the feeling of fullness. He sighed at the feeling himself, indulging in your scent. You figured now was as good as you’re going to get to talk. “Um, Kōt-“

“Alpha.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes. “Alpha, um, this is an awkward time, I suppose, but can we talk about, like, us?”

“We don’t need to, but we can,” he looked at you, moving his position so you guys were on your sides. More comfortable for each other. “What do you wanna talk about?”

“Okay, um, the Alpha thing is weird, but I’ll let it slide since obviously you’re in a rut. Obviously Keiji isn’t an Omega, so he can’t take you throughout the entire rut. Um, I don’t wanna be your booty call for ruts, this whole situation is so fucking weird-!”

“You’re not the ‘booty call’, as you said. Akaashi mentioned he had a surprise for me, but I didn’t think he’d offer me you. After this, I hope he lets me court you, too. So I can be your Alpha, too.”

“Kō- Alpha, we’re no longer friends because you’re an Alpha. That’s why you broke off our friendship so long ago, isn’t that right? You deserved an Omega, which I am not, but you found Keiji and that is fine. I am not a part of this.”

“I don’t care about sub-genders. That’s why I’m with Akaashi. I stopped being friends because you were moving. It hurt a lot to end things, but I didn’t know what else to do. That was Mom’s advice, at least.”

You were confused. Your mother said it was because he cared about sub-genders, but now he’s saying it was because of the move? Your friendship ended before moving, yes, but it was almost a month before moving. You could have stayed friends, anyways. Did your mother lie to you? Did his feelings change? “My- My mother said you needed an Omega so I-“

“She was wrong. She’s the one who set you up with Akaashi, yeah? She didn’t even care what my family thought about us. That’s in the past, we can move past it.”

“All these years...” you muttered, feeling the tears from before coming back. The knowledge that your own mother forced your friendship to end made you angry, but everything was fine now. Kōtarō was your friend again. At least, you thought he was. “I don’t know if I want a relationship, though,”

“Too bad,” he grunted, his cock leaving you feeling empty. A whine was all you needed to do to have yourself pinned under Kōtarō again, his cock filling you up again. “I’ve been dreaming of this for so long, as if I’ll let you leave so easily.”

Kōtarō continued his relentless pounding into you, the constant fucking rendering your lower area numb. Eventually, your world went black after a— what was it, 6th orgasm? Kōtarō’s second knot was the only thing you remembered before you tuned out completely. The grunting, whines, moans, all of it faded into silence. While you had passed out, Kōtarō panicked, thinking he went overboard. Keiji’s words echoed in his mind: “Don’t hurt her too much.” Was this too much?

Kōtarō, stuck inside you because of his knot, called for Keiji to help him. Of course, Keiji came as fast as he could (not very fast, poor man is still recovering) to see Kōtarō, who is close to tears, above your blissed, fucked, and passed out form. He sighs, shaking his head. “Bokuto-san, I think you went too hard,”

“Akaashi...” he whined, his strong arms curling around you. Even passed out, your body reacted, curling into him as you softly moaned. “Akaashi...”

“It’s okay, she’ll be fine. Her body isn’t used to it. At least, not yet.” A moan from Kōtarō let Keiji know his knot had deflated, him pulling out of your cunt and the copious amounts of cum he filled you with spilling out. It made even Keiji aroused, seeing it seeping out of you. Kōtarō knew he was aroused at the sight and came upon a solution.

“Akaashi! Maybe we...”

Waking up was next thing you remember. You felt so, so full, like you were plugged up in both ends. As you flutter your eyes open. You expected to see your ceiling, having woken up from intense dream or something. You maybe even hoped to see Kōtarō grinning down at you, sweat dripping down his face and his chest. You did not, however, expect to see Keiji smiling down at you, gently caressing your face. “Kei?”

“Hey there, pretty baby. How are you feeling?” The nickname threw you off — Keiji never called you a nickname. He was very formal, even saying your last name until only recently. You obviously showed confusion, or maybe you hesitated, because a rumble was felt behind you, a familiar voice following.

“She’s probably feeling pretty stuffed, Akaashi. Stuffed full inside and out, I hope,” Kōtarō’s voice said. You turned your head, hissing at the pain in your neck, to see Kōtarō grinning at you, just like you hoped. However, wasn’t Keiji resting?

“I should thank you for the fruit. It was delicious and cut up so cutely and delicately. I was getting a bit jealous to hear Kōtarō having so much fun with you. I was hoping to have my own fun with you when he rested after his rut, but he was kind enough to share. Isn’t that nice? I don’t think I can get you pregnant, but I want to try. We’d have such cute babies together, you know?”

“I was hoping she’d carry my pups first, but you can pump her full next time. We have all the time in the world, after all.”

“Excuse me? Wait, wait!” You shouted, suddenly realizing the whole ‘filling you up’ speech wasn’t just an Alpha’s instincts — it was their intention to impregnate you. “I can’t have kids! I’m in school and-“

“I can provide for both of my mates, right Keiji?” Kōtarō said, his eyes holding nothing but love as he gazed at Keiji. It made your heart squeeze at the love between them. Keiji smiled and nodded, deciding at that time to roll his hips. You threw your head back and mewled, sensitive from the consecutive orgasms previously.

“I’m glad you’re still sensitive. There’s no evidence to back it up, but I heard the more orgasms a woman has, the more likely it is she’ll get pregnant. Of course, Omegas have a fertile cycle, but you’re a Beta, so I had to track your cycle for about three months. I hope it was enough.”

“Three months?! Akaashi Kei- oh!” You screamed, feeling Kōtarō move. He was filling up your back entrance, adding to the fullness. Also, it explained why you were on his chest.

“I also need to cut out your caffeine, that’s a bad habit you need to cut out anyways. No more nights of drinking while binge-eating. Your body needs to be in peak condition if it’s going to carry our offspring,”

“I can’t wait till you’re all swollen and wobbling. It’ll be so cute. And then we’ll do it again. And again. And I don’t know if I wanna stop, babe!” Kōtarō laughed, thrusting his hips up, making you jerk at the feeling.

“Maybe we can stop after five. We’ll need a bigger house, too,” Keiji continued, rolling his hips in rhythm to Kōtarō’s thrusts. You closed your eyes, one hand fisting Kōtarō’s hair while the other gripped Keiji’s shoulder, hoping to ground yourself. “You’ll look so beautiful when you’re pregnant. This is what our families want, after all. You’ll bear my children and Kōtarō also gets what he wants in the end. He gets his own offspring. This all works out,” he grunted, snapping his hips after almost pulling all the way out. “In the end, at least.”

If you could form a coherent sentence, you’d tell them to stop, but the only thing on your mind was how stuffed you were. Keiji was thrusting into your puffy, abused cunt that was overflowing with Kōtarō’s cum, rolling his hips every so often to increase pleasure. Kōtarō’s grunts were heightening your arousal and sending you hurling towards another orgasm. Your eyes rolled, your tongue sticking out as you clenched around Keiji, sending him towards an orgasm of his own. A curse and a stutter of his hips and he was spilling his own seed into you. He knew his genes wouldn’t take, not when you’d been pumped by Kōtarō multiple times. He had looked for the chances between a Beta and Alpha genes in a Beta, but he only got Omegas, which were made to take Alpha seed and breed easily. A small part of him wanted to try and overpower Kōtarō, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to compare to the amount you’ve already taken.

Kōtarō was still going, his strong, warm hands holding your knees to your chest, keeping you spread open, as he thrusted up into you. He knew Keiji had finished, the face he was sporting a familiar scene to the Alpha, so Kōtarō was chasing his own high. A high-pitched whine from you as Keiji rolled his hips again, earning a growl from Kōtarō in return. You pant as your hand leaves Keiji’s shoulder, ghosting over your sensitive clit as you attempt to close your thighs, overly sensitive from all the rounds you’ve been forced to go through. Keiji saw your hand brush over it, taking his own hand to replace yours and apply pressure onto the nub, rubbing it.

A scream was ripped from your throat, another orgasm around Keiji’s cock as Kōtarō buried himself, shoving his knot in your tight hole. You were twitching at the extra feeling of fullness, the hot spurts of cum in your ass and the oozing cum from your cunt, even if Keiji was plugging you up. A sigh escaped your lips, your eyes rolling back as he attempted to catch your breath. Kōtarō brought a hand to fondle your breast, earning another whine for him.

“I could get used to this,”

“So could I. Good thing we’ll get to see much more of it,”

You normally would have told them no, attempting to push Keiji off and out of you, but you just sighed, trying to kiss Kōtarō. He smiled and obliged, licking your lips before kissing you, enjoying the taste of you. Keiji smiled at the scene, bringing his mouth to your perky nipple from Kōtarō’s earlier fondling, biting gently on it. You mewled, shifting your legs up Keiji’s hips and he moved in deeper. Kōtarō growled, his hand rubbing the red and swollen nub between your legs. You wouldn’t normally let this continue, but you could hardly think.

If you could think properly, you might have noticed the bags of clothes you don’t remember bringing to Keiji’s. You might have seen the handcuffs nearby. You might have seen the extra lock on the bedroom door, so out of place. You normally would have been able to think properly, but the only thing you could think of was being stuffed with Keiji’s and Kōtarō’s thick cocks, filling you up to the brim.

Sequel -> The Perfect Family [tw includes dubcon/noncon, use of the word r*pe, water torture/attempted drowning, gunplay, pregnancy, blood, abuse (mentally and physically), bit of watersports]

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jungwonenthusiast · 3 years

Note

PHEW FINALLY A WRITER WITH OPEN REQUESTS--- so i have been kinky asf EBEGHDFJC and i was imagining maths teacher jaehyun x english teacher reader x science teacher yuta.... THAT'LL BE SO HOT HWBGSEJFNFVH IM SORRY I'D LOVE IF U DO THIS,, with jaehyun having size kink and yuta having corruption kink and reader with thigh riding kink + also do it only if u want to im not forcing mwah take care.. <3

warnings: threesome (mxmxf), unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving)

A/N: hi ofc!! i’m sorry for this taking forever lol I've had family visiting (also this has not been proof read so forgive me for any mistakes)

“I’m gonna need the library today,” you hear Mr. Jung say to you as you sip your morning coffee.

You furrow your brows. “I told you last week that I was gonna be using it.”

He shrugs. “Principal administered a presentation about college for the kids, there’s nothing I can do.”

You resist rolling your eyes and walk over to Yuta. You two had been friends since high school and enjoyed gossiping about the other teachers over a glass of wine.

“I can’t stand him.” you scowl.

“It’s Mr. Jung isn’t it?” Yuta asked. “What did he ever do to you?”

“I told him that I needed the library today last week and he took it anyway.” you complain.

Yuta chuckles. “I think you’re just mad at him for taking your place as hottest teacher.”

You elbow him in the side, giggling. “Fuck off. He isn’t that hot anyway.”

“That hot?” Yuta raises an eyebrow. “So you do think he’s hot.”

“I can admit when another human is good looking alright? It doesn’t mean anything.” You shrug him off and he nods.

“Whatever you say y/n.”

You enter the principal’s office after school to complain about the library situation only to meet Mr. Jung there. You side eye him a bit.

He sighs. “What your deal Ms. y/l/n? I’m sorry I took the library but it wasn’t my choice.”

You ignore him.

“Come on,” he says. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you. I’m only here to make sure you get the library tomorrow.”

Your ears perk up at that. “Really?”

He nods. “Mhm. So are we good now?”

You cross your arms. “I suppose.”

He smiles. “Wanna go for coffee? Now that we’re friends?”

“Who said we were friends.” You cock an eyebrow.

He chuckles and leads you out of the office.

You drive separately and meet him at a nearby cafe.

You sit down in front of each other and order lattes and scones.

“So when did you start working at the school?” He asks you”

“About a year ago,” you reply. “how about you?”

“A couple months ago.”

You nod. “What made you want to become a teacher, we don’t get paid shit.”

He chuckles while adjusting his watch. “I taught my little sister how to read and write when I was in middle school and those are some of my favorite memories. What about you?”

You shrug. “My mom was a teacher.”

He chuckles again. You notices his Adam’s apple bob up and down.

You take a sip of your latte, trying to ignore the silence.

He clears his throat. “So what’s with you and Nakamoto?”

“Yuta?” you ask and he nods. “We’ve been friends from highschool.”

“Ahh okay.” he hums. “I bet he was a stoner.”

You laugh.

“I’m right huh?” Mr. Jung smiles.

“I mean you’re not wrong.” you take a bite out of your blueberry scone.

He points at your chin. “You got a bit of-“

You swipe at your face, trying to get the crumbs off but he reaches over and wipes them off himself. You struggle not to roll your eyes again. What a Disney prince prick, you think.

You converse about everything and anything for maybe half and hour.

“Really Ms. y/l/n?” he asks.

“You can call me y/n.”

He smiles. “You can call me Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun, Jaehyun. You roll the name around in your head. It suits him.

“Shit,” he says suddenly.

“What is it?” you ask.

“I think I left my phone in the principal’s office,” he says. “do you mind coming with me? I don’t know where the key is.”

You sigh and nod.

You meet him at the school and scavenge around your desk for the key.

He’s leaving against your door frame and you can’t help but notice how good he looks.

You want to touch him so bad. Feel the muscles under his dress shirt.

You bend over to look into one of your drawers, pointing your ass towards him on purpose only a little.

“I’m not sure where they are.” you groan and stand up. “Let’s check Yuta’s room, maybe he has them.”

You walk over to Yuta’s class with the only sound being your shoes clicking against the floor. You can feel him behind you though, a little closer than usual.

You push Yuta’s classroom door open to find him sitting at his desk grading papers.

“You’re still here?” you ask as he looks up at you. His eyes dart over to Jaehyun.

“Yeah,” he says. “I have some tests to finish grading, what’s up?”

“I need the key to the principal’s office, Jaehyun left his phone in there.”

He gives you a look that says when did you start calling him Jaehyun?

Yuta hands you the keys and runs a hand through his hair. “Have fun.” he says and you scoff.

“I hate you.” you say as you walk away.

“You know you love me.” he calls after you.

You and Jaehyun walk back to the office and snoop around for his phone.

“I can’t find it.” you say.

“Neither can I.” he says. You turn to him and notice that he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up. You swallow thickly. “What wrong?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly. “let’s keep looking.”

You bend over to check under the desk when you feel him bump into you. You almost giggle, he’s not even subtle with it.

“Excuse you.” you tease.

“Sorry, sorry.” you can hear the shyness in his voice. “I actually didn’t leave my phone here.”

You turn to look at him. “Huh?”

He’s rubbing at his wrists. “Yeah.”

“I don’t get it.” you put your hands on your hips.

“I just-“ he hesitates. “wanted to get you alone.”

“Oh?” you say. “Well that’s a little...”

“Creepy yeah I know I just didn’t know what else to do.” he says hastily. “I like you y/n.”

You smirk and subconsciously take a step towards him. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he whispers and dips down to kiss you.

Your arms wrap around his waist.

He kisses you softly like you’re a blooming daisy. His hands run down your body and he picks you up, hooking your legs around him. He sits down in the office chair and when he does you can feel his length against you. He got hard so quick, you think, I wonder how long he’s been thinking about this for. You shift your weight onto his thigh and grip onto his shoulders before rolling your hips. You can tell he’s a bit taken aback. You smile and kiss at his neck. It doesn’t take him long to take control though. He wraps one arm around your waist and keeps the other on your hips and he grinds you against him. You feel a whine escape from your mouth when you’re disrupted by the sound of a door opening.

“Whoa,” it’s Yuta.

You shoot up and adjust your top. “Uhm hey.”

He scoffs. “Don’t mind me, continue what you were doing.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What?”

“You heard me,” he says, crossing his arms. “I wanna watch.”

“What? No.” you say sternly but you feel your heart thump a bit when he starts walking towards you.

“Come one angel,” he says in a sultry tone you’ve never heard before. “for me?”

You start to feel a heartbeat somewhere else.

He pushes you back intro Jaehyun’s thigh but this time your back is facing him.

Yuta kisses you. “Ride his thigh y/n.”

You hesitate.

“You should do what I say, you don’t want to be punished right?”

Jaehyun grips your hips again and pushes you against him.

Yuta holds your face in his hands. “I never knew you were so dirty like this my precious y/n. It makes me wonder what you’ve done with all of your boyfriends over the years.”

You tug at his belt to get him to stand up and he does. You palm him through his pants.

He pets your head before picking you up and laying you down on the large empty desk. He tugs your to the end of the desk and spreads your legs.

“Can I?” he asks and you nod vigorously.

Jaehyun leans down and gives you a kiss. He starts to unbutton your shirt as Yuta tugs your pants down.

“Look at you,” Jaehyun coos. “so small and pretty under me.” he pulls your bra off and starts kissing your chest.

You breathing becomes labored as Yuta’s fingers rub your clit. You squeeze his hand.

“Please?” you ask him.

“Of course.” he pulls your underwear to the side and gives you an agonizingly slow lick before diving into you.

You gasp a bit and grip at Jaehyuns arms. “Fuck,” you moan.

If I knew he was this good I would’ve done this a while ago, you think.

You hear Jaehyun unbuckle his belt and you’re eager to reach up and stroke him.

You soon take him into your mouth and suck him slowly, circling your tongue on his tip over and over. But soon your technique becomes sloppy as Yuta’s tongue on your clit starts to take over your mind.

You feel your legs begin to tremble and Jaehyun pulls out of you. He gives your neck softly.

“Does it feel good?” he asks and you nod. “What a naughty girl, getting that pretty pussy eaten on your boss’s desk.”

He kisses your chest again, leaving blotchy red marks.

“Fuck her now.” he tells Yuta.

Yuta pulls away from your pussy and wipes your juices off with his finger before holding them up to your mouth.

“Suck.” he says.

You open your mouth and take his fingers as deep as you can.

“Good girl.” he says. That makes your thighs clamp together. Yuta smiles. “Do you like when I call you that?”

“Yeah,” you say quietly.

“Then listen to what we say and you’ll be hearing it all night.” he unbuckles his belt and gives himself a few strokes. He rubs the tip over your clit a few times before pushing into you.

The whine and grab onto Jaehyun’s arm.

“You love getting your pussy stretched huh.” he says while reaching down to run circles on your clit.

“Yes,” you say pathetically. You whine. “fuck that feels good.”

Yuta thrusts into you slowly a couple of times before snapping his hips into yours.

Your loud moan is muffled by Jaehyun’s hand over your mouth.

“Hush my love, don’t want to get caught do we?” he says while giving your nipple a small pinch.

Your whines and whimper grow louder as Yuta continues to pound you.

Jaehyun leans down and gives you a kiss. “Are you close sweetheart?”

You nod. You can feel your eyes starting to tear up.

“How badly do you want it?” Yuta asks.

“Really bad,” you exhale. “please make cum.”

Jaehyuns fingers on your clit start to fasten.

“You can do it,” he says lowly. “cum on that cock.”

You grip onto Jaehyun for the hundredth time of the night as you finally climax. Your eyes roll back and you’re embraced by euphoria itself.

“Fuck that’s hot.” Jaehyun growls.

Yuta pulls out of you and watches his cum drip onto the desk.

Jaehyun peppers your forehead with kisses as Yuta grabs napkins to clean you up.

“I never thought you’d be down for something like this.” he says while helping you pull your underwear up.

“Me neither to be honest.” you giggle.

“Next time I get to fuck her.” Jaehyun says and you tsk him.

“I’ll be the one to decide that.” you say.

#nct #nct smut #jaehyun smut #yuta smut

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keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

lavender latte: vi

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4 || chapter 5 || chapter 7 ||

masterlist

word count: 6.8k

finally. god.

warnings: none really! reader’s foot booted, but that’s about it.

---

well. here we are. thank u to everyone for reading this sweet, sweet story. we’re not through it yet, but i’m happy to offer a meal with this chapter. enjoy lovies. beta’ed by the lovely love @keiqos.

||||||||||||||||

You had several problems after returning to your apartment from the hospital. One of your coworkers was nice enough to drive you and your things back, but quickly the niceties stopped and your vague hell began.

Exclusively being on crutches sucked. Navigating your apartment and trying to live somewhat normally was a massive pain. Even just showering was a task that sapped most of your energy. Standing one-legged and balancing made your body ache with a deep soreness, especially the first few days you returned.

This was not even to mention the unpleasant dreams you were having.

‘Unpleasant’ & ‘dreams’ were a nice way of putting it.

You could recall that during your first night in the hospital, one of your doctors told you of the possibility of experiencing a few post-traumatic symptoms. Considering how out of it you were at the time, it was unsurprising how you brushed it off.

The reality was much harder to ignore.

...

Cars revving.

Shouting.

Shattering—

Your eyes flashed open, chest heaving and brow covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

Fuck that.

It was the same dream, an obvious recreation of the stimuli of the event. Though it was scattered in your memory, the dreams made it horribly vivid and vibrant despite lacking detail. The sounds and smells of that day clung to you as you shook your head, forcing yourself into wakefulness.

Your comforter was thrown from your body, and you shivered as cold air rushed over you. As jarred as you were, you still swung your legs off the bed, readjusting your boot and your aching leg, half-heartedly glaring at your crutches.

Your apartment wasn’t terribly set up to get around with your limited mobility, but your difficulty functioning didn’t help your overall mental state. Everything was just harder with the boot on, and you did your best to work with it.

Being locked up in your apartment added to the hellishness of it. You were so used to the stimuli and social environment of the teashop, it felt like a cold water shock when you were confined to your home entirely alone except for your cats.

You could, of course, try and venture out into the world. But, it was still winter and the ice-covered sidewalks didn’t seem like the best place to try and crutch around.

Within the first day or two, you resigned yourself to your three-week fate of being holed up.

You had a laundry list of things you could do. Shows and movies to watch, places in your house to clean, your cats to pet, but—

You still had far too much time on your hands.

A lot of your newfound time in the first few days was spent on your back, leg propped up, and draped in ice bags, musing over Hawks.

Hawks.

Holy fuck.

You couldn’t avoid it, couldn’t stop it. Just thinking about him made every part of you swirl and thrum like you were listening to some sort of contently-chorded song and you were more than happy to play it on repeat until your ears bled. Maybe that feeling towards Hawks had always been there (it had), but now you accepted it and stopped holding yourself back as much.

You never thought the idea of someone squeezing your shoulder would send you into literal fits of giggles and butterflies, but boy, did it. Not to mention all of the careful touches and gentle words you two had shared in the aftermath of the attack, though the memories were hazy. What you did remember and cherish was the warmth of him, quirk activated or not. Each time you recalled it, your gut fluttered and your hands twitched.

Your ceiling was the most interesting place to look in your apartment. The plain texture was the perfect canvas to allow your memories of the sweet interactions the two of you had shared to play like comforting reruns. The commercial breaks of these daydreams were the texts exchanged between you and Hawks.

Keigo couldn’t stop thinking about you either.

It wasn’t as distracting as it once was, as he had been more liberal with letting himself text you. The high number of messages between the two of you was maybe ridiculous, but he was a fast texter and you seemed to have plenty of jokes and banter for him to share in.

As good as the texting was, it was also nice to check-in on you and your recovery. You seemed more annoyed than anything else, but Keigo wasn’t so much of an idiot as to think you weren’t in any pain or struggling at all. Though you didn’t explicitly tell him or show him, he was familiar with the pains of healing and could infer some things about your state.

Keigo tried to brighten your day as he could. ‘Hawks’ still had plenty of hero work to do, especially with the information extracted from the recently detained syndicate members. Despite this, he took as much time as he could to stop and send you little snippets and messages which hopefully would help you smile a little.

It did, of course. Just talking to Hawks did.

You had moments of awareness a few times a day where you had to remind yourself that, yes, (Y/N), you were just casual friends and deeply enamored with the number two hero and that sentiment was at least partially returned.

You had a lot of time to wonder to what extent the feelings were returned. They obviously weren’t entirely one-sided, right?

It was completely possible that they were, but you did your best to shake off the thought.

It was more likely that notorious bachelor and flirt, pro hero Hawks, just wanted a fuck with some feelings. To fuck with some feelings, right?

Though, he did say that he cares about you.

But, you definitely can care about someone you only want to fuck.

You wished you had some sort of definitive answer. The murkiness of it all just made the sweetness of the past and the texts of the present seem a bit sour.

Confessing to Hawks was daunting and terrifying. Not to mention, it felt a bit juvenile, all of it. People weren’t supposed to get melty crushes like this past high school, right? Especially not ones this deep on someone who couldn’t possibly feel the same as you, right?

During one of these moments of uncomfortable clarity, your phone beeped as you rested on the couch. Despite not even seeing the message, you knew it would be Hawks.

You grabbed your phone, clicking open the newest message.

[birdboy]: hey hey angel

[birdboy]: look at this fucker i found

The image attached was a photo of Hawks standing next to one of his own billboards, advertising some sort of sports drink. The photo had obviously been taken with a timer, the angle of the photo tilted as Hawks and the billboard were quite small in the frame. It added to the charm of the photo, the way Hawks was holding a feather blade to the throat of his own advert. You could even tell through the pixels he was wearing a wide smile as he did so, wings spread behind him

You snorted.

You and Hawks are just friends, you reminded yourself.

[you]: looks like a punk bitch 2 me dude

[you]: kinda uncanny resemblance tho

[birdboy]: i agree

[birdboy]: he’s hot tho

You rolled your eyes, still smiling as you readjusted on the couch. You weren’t disagreeing, not at all.

[you]: not wrong

[you]: still, punk bitch

[birdboy]: :^(

[birdboy]: feelings = hurt

[birdboy]: please tell me the photo is funny

[birdboy]: it took like five tries

[you]: very funny, im gonna save it and sell when im short on cash

[birdboy]: my publicist will blacklist u

[you]: i’d like to see them try

[birdboy]: is that a challenge angel????

[you]: a promise

There was a break in the messages, though Hawks appeared to be typing.

[birdboy]: unrelated but

[birdboy]: how are you doing?

You paused, taking stock of your disheveled, sleepy self. You were only a few days out of the hospital and you definitely could’ve been worse off.

[you]: im okay!!!

[you]: sore and tired honestly

[birdboy]: :^(

[birdboy]: i'm glad to hear its not worse at least

[birdboy]: ill send u lots more embarrassing photos

[birdboy]: a million angel

[you]: my hero <3

It all was surreal and mentally impossible to avoid.

You really, really liked Hawks and had for a long while.

...

Keigo spent most of the rest of the day busy with patrols and work for the Commission, much to his chagrin. He hardly got a chance to text you. It reminded him of his reality as a pro, his fast-paced nature and how he truly couldn’t slow down, not at that point anyway. He had a brand and habitual way of being that was standard. Even for you, he wasn’t sure if he could slow down, even if he wanted to or needed to.

The idea scared him, pieces of his reality.

But, at the same time, Keigo hadn’t ever felt like this before. The weird, but incredibly alluring and comfortable heat in his chest made him feel like he’d do anything for you. Fuck, he’d fly to the stars and move them if he could, if that’s what it took.

Maybe he even wanted to.

Keigo couldn’t become a different person, for anyone, that’s not how things worked. But if getting closer to you meant... adjusting, he could do that. Easily. He was adaptable as all hell and he’d be glad to use it for something that made him feel good instead of hollow.

Keigo busily flew the day away. As the afternoon turned to night, the sky going pink and purple with dusk, he settled on top of a taller office building. It looked down on a street market, its smells and sounds wafting up to him on his perch.

It gave him an idea.

A good one.

You were inspecting your fridge with a grimace. Balancing on your crutches and being counter-weighed by the boot on your foot made your angry stance a whole lot less intimidating, but it was the sentiment that counted.

Several days post-hospital had done a number on your food supply. The fridge was empty except for a few nearly expired items and condiments. The dry shelves weren’t looking much better.

The shrill sound of your ringtone from the couch made your jump, nearly falling. You teetered back over to it, eye-widening at the caller ID.

[birdboy] calling...

Hawks had never called you before.

You quickly picked up the call, “...Hello?”

“Hey, angel!” Hawks was chipper on the other line. “What’re you up to?”

“Currently?” You hummed, turning forlornly to your kitchen. “Thinking about how I either need to order groceries or order dinner before committing to my couch for the rest of the night. Why? You don’t usually call.”

“I don’t,” Hawks’s smile was apparent in his voice, even through the receiver. “But, I had an idea.”

“Shoot.”

“I might just be near a super good takeout spot. How hard would it be for me to convince you to let me drop some food by your place? My treat.”

You didn’t reply for a second.

Stunned.

“Are you sure?”

“More than, dove. I’m off the rest of the night, anyways.”

Oh.

That gave you an idea—

An idea that would surely push the envelope of your feelings.

Let it.

“Okay, I’m in. One condition.” You bit your lip, willing your stomach to seize fluttering.

“You name it. This place is really good and—”

“I have been going a little stir crazy, and,” You cut him off, squeezing your eyes shut in anticipation, “how hard would it be to convince you to come over and stay awhile?”

Hawks was silent.

Your stomach dropped.

“Wait, I-I mean—” You stuttered, trying to gather yourself, but this time Hawks cut you off.

“Like, to hang out?” Hawks sounded shocked on the other line.

“Yes.”

You kept your breathing even and prayed it didn’t read over the call.

“God, dove. I’d love to. I can be over in like ten—”

“Wait,” You fisted the fabric of your sweats. “Can I have a little more time? For myself and my apartment.”

Hawks chuckled on the other end of the line, “Sure, angel. Thirty sound better?”

You let out a sigh of relief, falling on to the back of your couch, “Sounds perfect.”

Keigo decided to tease a bit, his heart pounding in his chest almost painfully. He knew from day one that you were bold, but this was a treat. He had to spare back, just a little.

“Though, dove, I’m sure you look more than perfect yourself. You always do.” He didn’t wait for your response, either out of fear of what you’d say or being a bit smug, he wasn’t sure.

Keigo hung up the call, burying his face in his gloves to try and stifle the blush on his cheeks, though it hardly helped.

It didn’t have to.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Thirty minutes later and you were mostly sorted.

You managed to throw yourself into the shower, tossing on something half-way decent, but still comfortable. Had to keep it casual.

Crutching around your apartment, you picked up what clutter you could, mind spinning. Hawks coming over to your fucking apartment filled you with elated, and yet terrifying, anxiety. A few times while cleaning, you legitimately paused to muffle quiet screams in your hand at the prospect.

You felt like you were going to burst.

Keigo did too, notably.

He took the time to fly all the way back to his apartment, take the world’s fastest shower, and throw on some clothes other than his costume. Going back to get food, his hands shook as he handed the bills to the starry-eyed vendor who he’d just written an autograph for.

You’d sent a quick text just before he’d left with a description of your balcony, so neither of you would have to figure out how to let him in through the roof.

As he flew to your place, Keigo felt like he was going to implode.

He didn’t ‘hang out’ with people. Nope, far too busy for anything like that. He was a compulsory workaholic, it was part of his mental brand of being (or, mental ‘branding’, maybe). The closest he got to casual time with folks was the preamble before a hookup or the time he had spent at the tea shop with you. Actually going to spend time with someone, casually, and it was you? It was all new and terrifying.

But, above all? Exciting.

The whole situation opened many doors, all of which Keigo pictured and picked apart as he neared your apartment. There were so many potential situations to appraise and plan for, he felt overwhelmed by it all.

The opportunity to spend some... time with you outside of the tea shop was a necessity, right? Keigo’s original idea had been to drop off some food and banter for a while, but the idea of spending one of his precious nights off with you was so much better than he could’ve expected.

Not to mention the warm bit of validation sparked by the fact that you asked him to come over, you wanted him around —

It felt nice.

So nice.

You paused, hearing telltale scuffing of someone on your balcony.

Oh my god.

He’s here.

Hawks is here.

You gulped, shaking your head.

Don’t you dare chicken out now. Commit, dammit. You’re just... hanging out. With your friend.

Yeah.

A knock on the glass pulled you to the door of your balcony, hobbling to slide it open on your crutches.

Hawks was happy to push the door the rest of the way open, stepping inside with a bag of takeout slung on his arm.

Your mouth parched, seeing him once again in civilian clothing. Was it... normal to get turned on by the fact that he looked normal?

As Hawks stepped into your humble apartment, wings tucked tightly to his back, you drank him in, hair ruffled with his clear visor placed on top of his head to push back the windswept front pieces. He wore a white sweater and black trousers complete with heavy black boots that were quickly untied and left by the door.

“You’re staring, you know,” Hawks interrupted your thoughts as you straightened up on your crutches.

Recover.

“Can’t prove that,” You tutted, crutching away from the door. “Also, welcome. Watch out for my cats, they might try to get a mouthful of your feathers.”

“Duly noted,” Hawks clicked his tongue, standing up and following you as you meander to the kitchen.

Keigo had to admit that your apartment was relatively... cute. He was used to his own, seldom-used digs. He had a big, uncomfortably nice penthouse with too many disused rooms and too much open space. Fixtures and furniture that were too expensive, probably, but it had been far easier to hire some big-name interior designer and not bother with dealing with it himself. Keigo had trouble keeping many ‘personal’ possessions, anyways. His training with the Commission made him almost revile the thought of keeping unnecessary, material objects, sans a few.

Your home was the exact opposite.

Maybe it was that he didn’t know how to have a personal touch that it made your cozy little apartment feel so full of them.

Little photos and artworks on walls or in frames caught Keigo’s eyes as he followed you to the kitchen. He took note of several blankets on the couch, catching sight of the plushie he’d given you at the hospital. Even the lighting of the apartment was personal, diffuse. With how easily overstimulated you became, it made sense that you’d keep your apartment so ambiently dim.

“So, first off, thank you for coming by and delivering dinner. I am eternally grateful,” You bowed dramatically, leaning to flail out a crutch at the motion. “Second, as payment, I’ll make you a drink. Maybe not with my quirk, but I have some of my old tea blends here.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Keigo shrugged, setting the takeout down on the counter while his ever-present grin nearly hurt his face from how relentless it was. “And tea? Show me what you’ve got. Or, should I trust you to pick one out for me?”

You hummed, clicking your tongue before moving across the kitchen to a different set of cabinets, “I think I’ve actually got a good one for you. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Lay on the details, angel,” Keigo hummed, leaning against the lip of the counter.

You did have the perfect blend in mind. It wasn’t too old, hardly stale. It would pair as well as a nice tea could with fried takeout, judging by the smells wafting from the bag on the counter.

“It’s one I made for a brunch we catered a few months back. It’s just a white tea raspberry blend, but it’s not delicate. It should stand up to any sort of food you’ve brought. Thank you, by the way.”

Setting your crutches down, you started to push yourself up onto the counter without thinking much of it, booted-foot going limp off the edge.

“Of course, anytime— woah, angel,” His voice choked as you wavered on the edge of the counter, off-balance.

There was a short flap of wings and rush of air as you tried to rebalance, cursing the deadweight of your leg.

If Hawks hadn’t been directly behind you, you probably would’ve eaten shit.

You turned yourself as far as you could, cheeks going hot.

Hawks’ face was just inches away from yours. That was even to mention the hands hovering around your waist, chest brushing up against your back.

“S-sorry,” Did he just fucking stutter? “You looked like you were about to eat shit there.”

The words hardly reach you, you were too busy actively telling yourself not to stare at his pretty, plump lips because that is not something friends do. Not the can of worms you needed to open, right?

“I-,” You turned away from him, stretching up to the tea tin that had been out of your reach. “To think you’ve saved me from falling while reaching for loose leaf tea, twice.”

“All in a day's work,” His hands twitched around your sides but hardly shifted until you began to descend from the countertop. In fact, Hawks hardly moved away at all until you were situated back on your crutches.

You pretended not to notice the flush on his cheeks.

Maybe, it was a bit too close. Definitely too close, and bad circumstances, but god, you wanted more and more of him.

You swallowed your desires down, cracking a smile.

Be normal.

Be cool!

You shook the tin, leaves and dried fruit rattling inside, “So, cream or sugar?”

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

The two of you ended up on the couch, picking through the several boxes of takeout that Hawks had brought. Most of dinner was spent bantering back and forth about one of Hawks’ newest modeling contracts and if it was ‘ethical’ for him to wear his own feathers for the sake of ‘fashion’?

“So, off-topic from insulting my employment ethics, ” Hawks spoke while munching on a piece of chicken. “You surviving?”

“Barely,” You laughed, setting down your utensils with a huff. “I forget how isolation makes you go a little crazy. I’m running out of dumb shit to watch and even dumber shit to send you.”

Hawks snorted, setting down his own box, having had his fill, “I know you are more than adept at combing the internet for more good shit to send me.”

“I mean, maybe, but you keep sending me juicy photos of you being a dumbass. They’re hard to show up, you know?” You side-eyed him at the birdish tilt of his head.

“You don’t need to show me up, angel,” Hawks reminded you, some feathers packing up what was left of the food. “Though, it’s fun. You’re fun.”

You internally winced at the sentiment but forced the smile on your face not to waver.

It was a needed reminder.

This close to Hawks, you could fucking smell him. Maybe it was a little creepy, but you remembered it so well, after the villain attack. The scent of some sort of spicy cologne and old sweat, but it was hardly unpleasant. No, it was intoxicating. It made you feel almost fuzzy, as it wafted around like some reminder that Hawks and you were so close.

You thanked the stars that the apartment lacked the stimuli to make your quirk activate on its own.

Your couch wasn’t very large, and it seemed even smaller with how Hawks had laid his wings over it. They were propped up over the back, outstretched just the smallest bit to relieve some pressure. All the same, the massive feathers made you feel minuscule.

Even the way he was sitting was intoxicating and a bit gut-wrenching. It was casual, the way he leaned back against the far cushions, legs somewhat spread with an ankle over the opposite knee. The pose oozed a weird, untouchable confidence that you hadn’t seen in Hawks in months, maybe ever. At least, not directed at you.

Despite the warm nature of his words, he seemed guarded.

It made your throat dry.

Keigo was quite on edge. He hadn’t meant to get so close in the kitchen, really, he hadn’t. But, seeing you dangling off the edge of the counter like that, even if it was harmless and mundane, made his entire body and mind react before he could think.

But, you weren’t in any danger. Even if you had been, Keigo would’ve been there to catch you.

He’d put himself out of it, overthinking the whole thing. You were fine. Safe.

The other part of his mind spun with how he wanted to be so much closer.

Feeling the warmth of your body, the lines of your waist, the thrum of your heart and breath so fucking close—

It was a lot.

But, he was well-trained and not going to choke.

He’d shoved himself to the opposite side of the couch to you, keeping his boundaries up, strong as steel and hard as carbon.

Of course, Keigo knew the feelings were mutual. That didn’t mean that none of this was terrifying in the same way that it was exhilarating.

As much as he wanted to be closer (so much closer), Keigo remained careful. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was ruin something before it had even truly happened.

You sat back against the couch, repositioning your injured leg on the coffee table, “So, thoughts.”

“On?”

You didn’t look at Keigo as you replied, rather glared at your TV, “What to watch?”

“Oh,” You could hear the smile in his voice. “We’re watching something?”

“You tell me. I imagine you don’t get lots of time to do this sort of thing, do you?”

Hawks didn’t reply for a moment, sitting deeper into the couch, “Not really.”

“Then indulge, tailfeathers,” You tossed the remote in his lap. “Anything, go for it. Go nuts.”

Hawks nearly put on watching a reality cooking show, before you said that that was off-limits, per an odd conversation from way back when where he had admitted to be hot for Gordon Ramsey. He had been a little too vague as to whether or not he would pop a boner from Gordon’s filmed degradations. And truthfully, if anything was gonna give Hawks a hard-on tonight, you were determined for it not to be competitive cooking TV. Maybe, just maybe, you’d rather it be you.

...

Eventually, he settled on some psychological thriller you’d never heard of.

Keigo hadn’t either.

He was glad that you couldn’t hear his heart in the same way he heard your’s pounding.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched you crutch around, turning the already dim lights lower.

Calm the down, Hawks.

Calm the fuck down.

He’d never even done this before. Keigo wasn’t sure how to handle the situation, even if it was as simple as watching a film.

It would’ve been simpler if the tension in the air was thick and foggy, clouding over his consciousness as he tried to focus on anything other than your nearness and how much he wanted to drag you into his lap.

…

His feathers fluttered as you plopped back onto the couch, pulling a blanket over your lap and offering one to him.

He took it, settling it over his lap as the movie went on.

You weren’t an idiot. You could feel the blood rushing in your hot ears as you fisted the blanket over your legs.

Your mind spoke a lot louder than you wanted it to:

Just fucking do it.

Do what exactly?

The paramount thought that was causing anxiety to twirl in your gut.

Maybe, you could just tell him how you felt.

Maybe just hold his hand.

Maybe get fucking rejected because he’s out of your league and out of bounds.

Maybe even kiss him—

You were torturing yourself, the movie just background noise to your internal dilemma.

You’d asked him to your apartment and Hawks had bought you fucking dinner. That wasn’t a lot, sure, maybe, but there were also the months of lead-up.

There were all of the cold mornings and cheeky grins you gave each other in the waking coffee shop. There were the fuzzy jokes, the lingering glances, and the tight feeling you got in your chest whenever he graced you with mere eye contact.

It felt like you were already in too deep to not be honest about how you felt towards him. Fuck, you’d been in too deep for months. Every time you made him a damn drink, you wanted to just drink him in. You were all fluttering hearts and sweet smiles for him in a way that you couldn’t suppress, only squash in moments of such intense anxiety like this—

“Hey, dove?” It was Hawks, shocking you from your turmoil with a soft voice. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, I’m good.” Your reply was curt and clipped.

Make a decision now.

Pull the bandage off, (Y/N).

It’ll just be worse, the longer you wait.

Maybe Hawks did just want to fuck with some cute feelings, the seemingly longing looks be damned. Yeah, you liked him way more than for just a fuck, that was obvious and unavoidable. Besides, it’d be better to know than to not know, right?

“You sure? If the movie’s too much, we can turn it off,” Hawks sounded genuinely concerned from the other side of the couch.

...

You committed, taking a deep breath and turning to Hawks.

“It’s not that,” You looked at the couch between the two of you, tracing the seam of the cushion. “The movie’s fine.”

“Then, you’re not feeling great for another reason?” Keigo asked, feeling each of your breaths and heartbeats like bass drums in his ears. He hides the shaking of his hands by crossing them over his chest. “You can talk to me, (Y/N).”

“Can I?” You asked, shaking your head and laughing at yourself. “Hawks, I need to do something really fucking stupid.”

Holy fuck.

Are they—

“What’s that?”

His voice was smaller than he wanted it to be.

“Fuck, Hawks,” You finally forced yourself to look at him, taking in his guarded posture and pained expression.

Your heart sank.

“I just need to be honest with you.”

Hawks’s brow soured, lips twitching, “Go for it, dove.”

You laughed, maybe trying to soothe yourself, “It’s probably is just, so fucking stupid, all things considered.”

You ran a hand through your hair, biting your lip between sentences and willing yourself to just get it out—

“Hawks, I like you. A lot.”

He still didn’t say anything and you could feel shards of your heart drive into your lungs.

You forced yourself to look up at him, smiling with the slight release of tension in your sternum, however painful.

“I know, we’re just friends, right? I’m just the barista and you’re my special, pro hero regular. I know I’m overstepping right now, but it feels unfair for me to not be honest with you.”

Keigo already knew this, right? He knew how you felt, fuck, he’d felt how you felt. He just wasn’t prepared for the exploding and thrumming in his chest when you told him with your sweet lips and kind words.

Why did it feel so different when you were smiling at him like you were in pain and telling him so fucking honestly with your words?

It was the thing about you that he admired the most, that candor in your tone and the grin in your cheeks as you spoke so.

But, your smile was falling, leaving watery-looking eyes.

“Hawks, I like you. Way too much for friends, and I needed to say something.”

Keigo’s mouth was dry.

For the first time in so fucking long, he was genuinely speechless.

He couldn’t recall a time in his life anyone had spoken so earnestly to him, just you. Just you, you, you— casually, over and over again, you talked to him like he was something real and something to be cared for. It was subtle, but it was one of the many things that made him want you closer.

Yet, despite all his bundled up desires, he was lost for words.

“I’m sorry—”

He stopped you, “(Y/N), please don’t apologize.”

“But—”

“(Y/N).”

Hawks’ voice was sharp. It made the expression on your face rapidly fall.

He looked at you with rapt attention, arms uncrossing from his chest.

He turned to you on the couch, feathers fluffed up and twitching.

Your nose stung as Hawks, all pretty golds and ambers, shook out an exhale and balled up the blanket in his lap.

“Hawks—”

“Why would you need to be sorry?”

Hawks looked at you with wide eyes, brow creased. His shoulders were... shaking?

Your head spun, leg aching, “... What do you mean?”

Hawks finally met your gaze, giving you the sweetest, saddest smile you’d ever seen, “Dove, you’re acting like there’s no way I could feel the same way.”

Every cell in your body stuttered.

“You’ve done it since we’ve met.”

Hawks scooted closer on the cushions of the couch.

“You’ve always acted like there’s just no way I could like you, give a shit about you—”

He moved a bit closer.

You couldn’t make yourself move.

“You want to know the truth?”

You creaked out a nod.

Keigo couldn’t help the way he went to cup your cheeks in his hands, thumbs rubbing along the apples of your cheeks. You lean into his touch, just like at the hospital, despite the blend of absolute fear and confusion in your expression.

“How could I not care about you, dove?” And it finally came out. “I care about so much— dove, I don’t know what to fucking say.”

That made you speechless, lips parting just the slightest bit as Hawks continued, losing composure with his morphing expressions.

He wet his lips, swallowing, “Dove, I’ve never—any of this. I-I don’t know what o-or how to say any of what I want to right now.”

You speak before thinking.

“Show me, if you don’t know how to say it.”

The idea seemed so novel as Keigo ran a thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it from between your teeth. He met your gaze with the gooiest, sweetest look you’d ever seen in your life, “You want me to?”

“Please.”

It was all the two of you had wanted for a while now, right?

“If I kiss you, I’m not ever gonna be able to make this go away, am I?” Keigo was speaking to himself, just above his breath. But, you were more than close enough to hear him.

“Hey, Hawks? I don’t know if we can make ‘this’ try to go away.” You grabbed one of the hands cupping your face, pulling it away, only to shakily press in your lips to the bones on the back of it. “I don’t want to anymore.”

“Y-you gotta stop being so sweet, (Y/N)—”

Neither of you could wait a moment longer.

Your arms wrapped around Keigo’s shoulder. In the same motions, he pulled you closer by your waist, dragging you finally closer to him.

He held your jaw like you were the most precious thing in the world. Because, truthfully, you were to him. The sentiment was shared Deeply.

Your lips pressed together and the long-held tensions in your chests mutually shattered, dissolving in the honeyed touch of each other’s genuine attention.

You angled your head perfectly, Keigo’s hand guiding you as his mouth worked against yours. It wasn’t a particularly steamy sort of affair, but by god, it wasn’t in any way chaste. Not with the tight grip and thumbing on your ribs. Not with the way your hands tangled in the soft (holy fuck, soft) hair at the base of Keigo’s skull.

You both tasted each other's sweetness, craving more of it after denying yourselves of it for so long. It was white-hot, exploding behind your eyes, even as your quirk remained dormant. Keigo was honey and cream and smoked spices all dancing across your palette.

To Keigo? You were sweet, cool water over a hot burn. You were the heat of a hearth rolling over him on the coldest of days. He swears that in the first moments he finally got to be close to you, and over and over again— he finally understood how your quirk worked.

There was no way that finally feeling you, feeling you as he felt you, could be described with just five senses.

You pulled away first, gasping for breath and arching your back into him. You lingered as close as you could, pressing your forehead to Keigo’s while your breaths mingled. You didn’t dare stray far.

“Was that enough to show you?” Keigo asked, breathless. He kept a wide hand against your back, urging you with a bit of soft pressure to put your weight into it. You complied, settling in his hold as Keigo stroked at your hot cheeks.

You nodded, beaming up at him with that sunny smile of yours. It never failed to make heat burn through Keigo and god, did it feel good to finally let it unabashed.

“I take it, you like me too, huh,” You smiled, looking a bit embarrassed.

“Very much, very much,” Keigo repeated, pressing a kiss to your nose (he’d always wanted to do that). “So much, (Y/N). I apologize for not saying anything sooner. This is just...”

“New to you, right?” You finished his sentence, thumbing along the back of his neck in a way that made Keigo just melt. “It’s been a while for me too, if it makes you feel better.”

“It does, dove. Thank you.” Keigo let out a deep breath, shaking his head against yours. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.”

“It’s alright, same goes for me,” As much as you needed to adjust due to the angle of your recovering leg, you couldn’t make yourself do it. You were so wonderfully close to Hawks, you never wanted to move.

“If we’re being honest, then I need to be honest with you,” Hawks met your eyes, his expression going a little dimmer.

You braced for the worst.

He picked up your shift easily, finally able to express how quickly he caught your mood after so long of being attuned to it.

“Oh wait, no, (Y/N), nothing terrible, I promise,” Hawks rubbed at your sides. “It’s about the miel.”

“The... miel?” You cocked your head to the side, confused, recalling the drink somewhat hazily. “The drink I made you on the day of... the attack?”

Hawks gave you a tense smile, “That one, yeah. Remember how you said it was just based on your ambient feelings?”

“Uh-huh.” You let confusion lace your tone until it slowly started to dawn on you.

“You made the drink, ambiently, around me—”

Your eyes widened, mouth falling open, “Oh my god, Hawks, did my feelings for you get in the drink?”

Hawks graced you with a sweet, sympathetic smile, fingers tucking at the hair around your ear, “They did, dove. I’ve kind of known for a few days, it just hasn’t been the time or setting to say something. I apologize.”

“N-no, it’s okay, I totally understand,” You sighed into his grip. “I really thought it might be something worse.”

“Consider your worries assuaged,” Hawks hummed, eyes drifting to your boot. He deadpanned suddenly. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad does your leg hurt right now?”

Fairly bad, considering. You were half on your knees, the booted leg twisted awkwardly while still raised to the coffee table. This wasn’t even to mention the arch of your back so you could be all that closer to Hawks.

The pain of the position was easy to forget; you were still shaking from kissing Hawks just once.

“Uh, maybe like a seven, once I can feel anything other than how good you felt just now,” you hummed, grinning up at Hawks as his face went bright red.

The infinite pleasure you received, making him blush so sweetly.

He shook it off, squeezing your sides, “Cute. Very cute. Mutually returned sentiment, but let’s adjust.”

You nodded but didn’t have much time to react as a bundle of Hawks’s feathers lifted you every which way, albeit incredibly gently. All said and done, he was fully upright against the back of the couch. With the support of a feather or two, Hawks’s arms tugged you into his lap. Your legs stretched to the side, the booted one immediately propped up by a feather-supplied pillow.

You both settled yourselves, blushing and leaning on each other now that you finally were allowing yourself to.

Keigo fully wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight against him. One of his wings even shifted to drape over one his shoulder, sheltering the two of you in a canopy of a crimson. Keigo let his hands wander over your hips, not seeking anything more than blessed attention and heat. You gave it all to him, tucking your face into his collarbone, drowning in the scent that made you feel at home.

Keigo pressed his lips to your crown and legitimately shuddering.

He spoke to himself, so faintly and quietly, you hardly caught it, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

There was melancholy in his voice, but you were quick to strip it away.

You brushed your lips along his jaw, savoring the way he held you tighter, “I have too. Can we do this more?”

“Anytime, dove. Anytime.”

“Right now sound good?”

You withdrew to beam up at him as you were so good at doing, only to be smothered by craving-satiating kisses anywhere Keigo could get to. The sweet, high laughter that he dripped onto you made your heart burst all over again.

And you finally, finally fell into the other sweetly, warmly, and properly.

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taglist: @thepandapopo @hawksexual @sinclairsamess @darcia22 @inhalingsoysauce @yee-fxcking-haw

#salem writes #lavender latte #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #hawks x you #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo x you #takami keigo x y/n #mha reader insert #hawks reader insert #hawks #takami keigo #hawks mha #hawks bnha #im soft for this one yall #so soft

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ohayohimawari · 4 years

Text

30 Minutes to gift!! KAGUMO EDITION

I had too much fun creating a 30-minute-gift for an exchange in @sloaners server! Here is my giftee’s prompt list:

List three colors: purple, blue, pink List two household or outer space items: desk, mug List/Link one favorite mood song: Rocket Man (cover) by Ninja Sex Party How about a favorite AU??? (‘Canon’ is also acceptable): im a normie,i genuinely love the coffee shop AU or anything wholesome Why you love/hate Zetsu in 5 words or less: how people see weed dealers A favorite character or two outside of KAGUMO: obito

The overall theme is: KAGUMO! The Moon Mom content we all adore

I hope you enjoy!

Obito set his messenger bag down on his desk and double-checked the contents to confirm that he had everything he needed. His passion for political science led him to volunteer to be a pollster, and today was the first day of his new extracurricular gig. He noticed a mug that he’d left there the night before and carried it to his kitchen sink with the intention of washing it, when he checked the clock and realized he had enough time to treat himself to coffee from a shop rather than brew it.

He stepped out into the first autumn chill and decided that he’d indulge in a hot white mocha pumpkin spice latte-his favorite fall drink, even if most didn’t understand why.

He breezed past the resident oddball that lurked around the corner from his neighborhood. Whether it was the shock of green hair on his head or the fact that half of his face was darkened by the shadows he kept to, he’d earned a reputation for being any number of unfortunate things, the best of which being a dealer. “Hey kid,” he rasped out, but Obito ignored him and quickened his pace.

Pumpkin spice madness had taken hold of more than himself that morning, and the crowded coffee shop proved it. Obito studied the people around him as he waited for his turn to order, and his gaze was drawn to a man that would stand out in any crowd, anywhere.

The man’s most prominent feature was his wild mane of silver hair, which was barely contained in a ponytail. Obito studied his face and thought the man appeared younger than his hair would lead one to believe, though he did notice lines around the man’s eyes that seemed to be caused by decades of laughter. Even now, amusement was plain on the man’s face, almost as if it was permanently fixed upon it.

However, that wasn’t what drew Obito’s attention to him.

The man wore an impossible combination of blue, purple, and pink shimmering attire. He wondered if the man couldn’t wait for Halloween, or if he was on his way to a very early costume party. Either way, Obito had never seen that many sequins all at once in his life.

Obito couldn’t tear his eyes from the man, not even after he was caught staring at him. He had to know what made this man tick and decided that he’d found his first subject for his political survey.

The sparkling man eagerly agreed to participate, and once Obito heard his name mispronounced loudly as the signal that his coffee was ready, they sat together at a table.

“Okay,” Obito began as he turned on his tablet, “these questions pertain to the upcoming primary election, and I thank you for your participation, Sir.”

“Call me Sakumo.”

“Uh, well, the survey is supposed to be anonymous.”

“Okay, then don’t,” Sakumo smiled.

Obito swallowed a snicker and asked the first question. “Are you registered to vote at the current address you reside at?”

“You betcha, that was one of the first things I did when I returned.”

Obito checked off the box that fit Sakumo’s answer and moved on to the next question. “How likely are you to vote in the upcoming elections?”

“Nothing will keep me from the polls,” Sakumo winked.

“Who did you vote for in the last election?” Obito continued, gaining confidence that he presented himself as an experienced pollster.

“Mondale.”

“M-Mondale? Walter Mondale, from the 1984 election?” Obito stuttered his surprise.

“I’ve been away for a while.”

“I see, well, welcome back,” Obito tried to pick up his jaw and his professionalism at the same time and carried on to the next question. “What do you look for in a candidate?”

“Their dedication to the space program,” was Sakumo’s prompt reply.

“Oh, you have a particular fascination with the universe?” Obito strayed from his script out of curiosity before he could stop himself.

“I miss my wife.”

Obito blinked while he processed Sakumo’s answer. “Okay, well, um, moving on,” he checked off ‘other’ as the answer that best fit on his survey. “How important is the issue of school funding to you?”

“Very important,” Sakumo nodded his earnestness, “I’m relying on the fact that schools here will help me to convince Kagu—oh, right, anonymous, I mean, my wife to bring our son here.”

“That’s an understandable reason,” Obito selected the appropriate answer from the list.

“I mean, Mars ain’t the kind of place to raise your kids,” Sakumo elaborated.

Obito’s gaze shot up from his tablet and focused on Sakumo. “Mars,” he repeated, incredulous.

“It’s cold as hell.”

“I-I can imagine it would be.” Obito scanned the list of questions for the most harmless that remained so he could end their interview quickly, but politely. When his screen only offered options on sensitive subjects like national security, he decided to make one up. “I just have one final question, Sir,” he said as his mind raced through mundane topics that he considered safe, “what is your…occupation?”

Sakumo eyed him, and his smile suddenly turned serious. He assessed Obito a moment before asking, “This is anonymous?”

Obito nodded, already regretting his question.

Sakumo leaned across the table to answer in a hushed voice. “Ninja.”

Obito couldn’t hide his surprise if he tried and so he didn’t. He gaped at Sakumo as the other man stood up from the table and laughed at him. “What did you think I was, an accountant?”

“I admit, that wasn’t an answer I expected,” Obito tried to recover his composure and reached for his latte with one hand while he discreetly deleted the survey with the other. He silently wondered if the suspicious man with green hair was still lurking nearby, and if that survey would be any easier.

Sakumo laughed again and threw his empty coffee cup in the recycling bin. “I’m not the man they think I am at home,” he said as he gestured finger guns at Obito and exited the coffee shop.

#kagumo #sakumo #sakumo hatake #Obito #obito uchiha #kaguya otsutsuki #30 minute gift challenge #hima writes

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jaeyunluvs · 4 years

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you’re mine - aron piper

Requested by @fashphotolife : yeah just like a hot jealous aron bc like ugh that’s probably hot 🥵Not really a specific request but just like a hot jealous aron Piper imagine

A/N: AHH I LOVE JEALOUS IMAGINES!!!!! Thank you so much for requesting! I saw many people doing the jealous interview thing, like buzzfeed interviews and stuff, it’s gonna be similar to that !

disclaimer: i don’t know any of these people personally, i made some characters up! english is my second language so please let me know if i have mistakes! :) also poor spanish, i’m sorry profesor

note: im sorry i used starbucks, pls don’t sue me that’s the only international coffee brand i can remember! it’s unedited :))

word count: 1,5K

warnings: none but hot jealous aron is on his way ;) oh and crappy writing :’)

gif creds to @piperaron - <3

“Y/N! Come on! We’re getting late!” Your boyfriend Aron warned you at the phone. He was downstairs, waiting for you. You were getting prepared for the live interview with the Elite cast, including you.

“Okay, okay!” you said on the phone and closed. You wore a white elegant dress and kinda revealing but you didn’t mind cause you looked amazing. When you ran downstairs you saw a curly head in a car, looking in your direction.

“Wo-w, hola carina” He stared at you, breathless.

“hi babe!” You get in the car and kissed him on the lips. He still stared at you so you decided to speak up.

“earth to Aron! you there?” you stared at his brown eyes filled with love. He blushed and looked away kinda embarrassed.

“Lo siento amor you’re just to beautiful!” Now it was your turn to blush. He giggled, placed a kiss your lips and started the engine.

You wanted to stop and get coffee on your way. Aron wanted to come to get coffee with you. It was your local starbucks shop.

“Do you remember our first date was here?” Aron asked. You glanced and felt the nostalgia.

“You were super nervous I can’t believe how you changed so much.” You answered smiling. He managed to laugh.

“Maybe you’re the reason why I’m changed” He stared at you. You giggled at his cheesiness.

“Hi can I get your order?” You and Aron were interrupted by a good looking employee asking for your order.

“Hi, can I get a Latte Macchiato please?” you asked.

“What’s your name?” He asked, looked like smiling.

“Y/N” you said not caring enough.

“I like your name just a pretty name for a pretty lady” he said not caring about the guy next to him.

You were taken aback by the compliment with saying a simple thank you without emotion but before you could say anything more, Aron pushed you to his side, can’t tell that you guys are dating because you weren’t public.

“Careful big guy, she has a boyfriend and I’ll kick anyone’s ass if I see someone flirting with her.” He was raising his voice. You hold him down.

“Aron, Aron stop, stop, chill” you looked at him you knew he gets calmer when he looks you in the eyes. When he calmed down, you ordered for him. The poor barista was watching you guys on shock and fear.

You paid and mouthed a sorry for his actions. He didn’t say anything just a weak smile. You hated when there’s a fight.

Then you got your orders and when you were leaving Aron shouted. “My eyes on you” to the poor barista and he got so guilty in front of his customers.

You punched him in the arm. “Aron what the fuck? He was a poor boy, and we’re not public you know this is so normal.” You stated. Aron didn’t look at you just walked into the car.

“He can’t just flirt with a random girl especially you!” You held him by his wrist.

“You know you’re the only guy for me right?” You looked at him with a serious expression. He managed to have a weak smile then continued to ride.

When you were on the interview set, Ester and Danna ran to you.

“Hola bebe, we should get prepared. Hola Aron, go to the boys room.” Danna said. You waved your hand as a signal of saying “bye” and he did the same. The cast didn’t know you guys were a thing either.

You met the other female cast mates and had your make up artist prepare you. After preparing all the cast got into a room and sat around. You and Aron sat next to each other obviously.

“Hello ColaStation watchers, I’m Amell Wilson and today, I’m here with the elite cast! we’re going to read fan messages and play “Who’s most likely to?”. Here we go!” He said cheerfully.

Everyone introduced themselves and the interview started with “Who’s Most Likely To?”

“Who’s most likely to be single?” Everyone pointed you and Aron. You both laughed. Amell, the interviewer smiled too.

“Who’s most likely to be rule a fashion company?” Most of the cast pointed you and you blushed. “You have a great taste in fashion, carina” Omar said, you thanked him by blowing him a kiss. One of a sudden, interviewer Amell commented “You do have a great taste in fashion Y/N you look beautiful.” He said.

Aron was startled by this comment and you noticed this but ignored it because everyone was here.

You played the game for awhile, laughed, had fun together. By the interview continued you could see Amell watching you. Aron noticed and cleched his fists but couldn’t do anything.

You eventually had a break after the first game. The cast divided, but most of them went to outside to smoke, including Aron. You and Danna, went to restroom and the preparation room before going back to Aron’s. While you were waiting for Danna outside, you saw Amell approaching you. Oh no you thought yourself.

“Hi Y/N”

“Hello?”

“Umm so I-” Amell was interrupted by Danna. Thankfully because you were getting kinda uncomfortable and you hated making Aron like this

“¿Qué es lo que pasa aquí?” Danna came and tied her arm into yours started walking.

“No lo se, he came and talk to me.” You made sure. Your look on your face was explaining and Danna trusted you so she didn’t make a scene.

Meanwhile in the smoking session, the boys were talking about how Amell looking at you.

“No lo se porque pero, Amell can’t stop staring at her.” Miguel claimed.

“Yeah it is getting kinda weird” Alvaro started a little laughter. Aron wasn’t paying attention, jealousy was burning inside of him.

“Imagine Y/N, one of the most beautiful girl in the world not being single. I can hear the people crying.” Omar said. Aron just smiled and smirked.

“Like Y/N would date him.” Aron said sarcastically. Everyone looked at Aron and noticed how angry he was. They knew something was behind this.

After thirty minutes, the cast turned back to do the last activity, anonymous fan comments on the actors.

It started with Ester.

“ ’Ester Exposito is literally queen she’s my idol.’ Awhh thank you.” She blew some kisses to the camera.

“’ Alvaro is so underrated, he is a great actor. Keep up! Love you!’ Thank you so much I love you too!” Alvaro smiled.

“ ‘Aron Piper is that lucky guy to make out Omar. Don’t you think? I’m jealous.’” Omar just laughed and mouthed a thank you.

“’ Aron is literally every girls’ celebrity crush at this point. Thank you Elite creators.’” Aron just smiled and thanked at the comment. When they handed the box over you, Amell continued to stare at you.

“’Y/N is that girl that I would literally die for, I’m so happy she’s single can you marry me?’“

“Hahaha he’s kinda right!” Amell laughed and added. And this was the end of Aron’s patience. He couldn’t help but said,

“Too bad she has a boyfriend” He laughed grasping your hand quickly.

Everyone in shock, can’t say anything.

“I KNEW IT!” Itzan shouted

“ALVARO GIVE ME MY 50 EUROS” Jorge said laughing.

You looked at them in shock not knowing what’s going on. Alvaro groaned and gave him the 50 euro bill.

“We get into a bet, I knew you guys we’re dating” Jorge showing you the bill.

“Honestly, it couldn’t have been more obvious but I’m still mad you didn’t tell me” Danna said pouting.

“You guys are so cute together.” Mina said. You were so happy with all the comments you were receiving by the cast. Their blessings were really important.

“Now, that it’s public, take your eyes off of my girlfriend.” Aron growled at Amell. You can see he was getting scared. They stopped the live and some advertisements to calm down Aron.

“Okay Aron, I think we should end this live and go.” You said holding him. He looked at you, he couldn’t stand your eyes.

After a break, everyone turned back to the interview, but it was super awkward. Amell couldn’t look at any of you.

“Thank you for the dearest elite cast, and thank you for watching. Don’t forget to like and subscribe for more of this content!” Amell said and the turned the camera to the cast to say goodbye.

Aron waved and immediately kissed you on the lips. Everyone was cheering. When you ended the kiss and live, your phone blew up from all of your friends and family.

Sister: ARE YOU DATING ARON? HOW?

Best friend: It’s funny how I know it and everyone’s getting crazy hehe

Brother: I’M GOING TO KICK HIS ASS

You laughed at all the messages you’ve been receiving, especially your best friend’s.

After the interview, Danna hold you and forced you to explain everything and all the details about you and Aron.

“SPILL THE TEA!” Danna shouted.

“Umm so we started dating 3-4 months ago...” You continued to explain while watching everyone’s jaw dropped. For a little while later, Aron came smirking to you.

“Hey ladies, mind if I steal mi novia, for a minute?”

“No Aron, ella es nuestras amiga.” fought Claudia laughing.

You smiled at girls “I’ll be back in 5″ and they continued to talk.

Aron held you close, holding your hand, pulling you to his side.

“You’re mine. And no one can ever take you away from me.” He said whispering to your ear with a serious tone. “Especially a guy like A- what Ameelllo?” He said making you laugh with a funny tone this time

“Congrats Aron, you ruined the moment. I said it once, I’ll say it forever, don’t worry bebe, another guy like ‘Ameeellooo’ could never make me crazy like you do. ”

237 notes · View notes

dalamjisung · 4 years

Text

let’s get physical ❃ jackson wang

word count: 8064

genre: hospital!au, fluff

pairing: physical therapist!jackson x fighter!reader

description: things are not all that great; how do you tell that to the person that’s only seen you smiling? or the one in which you are a professional MMA fighter and Jackson happens to be your escape from everything.

“One more, let’s go!” Coach shouts and holds the punching bag more firmly. “Don’t stop now, Y/N, just one more minute!”

You gather all the energy left in your body, punching and kicking to your heart’s content. You’ve been training for the past three hours, as you usually do; you’ve been at this routine for years now, since your debut as an MMA fighter. Wake up, train, go home, train some more, sleep, and do it all over again. You had nothing to complain, really– still undefeated, you were the most feared opponent in the octagon.

“And… time!” You finish with a roundhouse kick and allow your body to fall on the mat, breathing harsh and fast. “Come on, go take a shower and ice your muscles. You know better than to wait too long.”

“Yes, Coach!” You shout animatedly, excited to go home and get some sleep.

“And don’t forget that instead of training, you have physical therapy tomorrow!” He says while packing things up. “We need to get that knee back to perfection before the match in the end of the month.”

You nod and run to the dressing room, gathering your things before Coach changes his mind and makes you stay for extra stretching. It was rare for him to be so forgiving of your free time, but ever since you took a kick to the knee that sent you to the hospital, Coach has been taking it easier on you– the fact that you were going home at all was proof enough.

As always, you sleep like a rock, your body and your mind too tired to even dare and keep you awake. After a warm shower, your eyes basically close on their own and, as per usual, you don’t even climb into your bed, content with just laying on a comfy mattress on top of your blankets. It usually ends up with you cold and sneezing the next morning, but it’s nothing some warm coffee couldn’t fix. You make sure your mug is heated with hot water so that it will not interfere with your precious and much needed body heat. You have just enough time to eat some toast and throw a hoodie over your leggings, grabbing your wallet and prescription glasses on the way. Listening to music while walking, you make your way to the clinic, ready for the pain you know is about to come. The hit had been quite hard and they couldn’t do much at the time besides prescribe you a lot of physical therapy and some pain medicine; the attending physician had been a resident and not really sure of what he was doing, yet you still smiled and thanked him for his hard work, going home dejected.

“Y/N!” You hear someone shout excitingly. You look to the side to see Jackson coming out of the bathroom, smiling widely. “Back for more?”

You laugh. You met Jackson when you started getting medical attention for your knee, a few months ago; coincidently, he was also receiving physical therapy. According to him, he hurt his shoulder while fencing and that made his job a little hard– but that is the extend of what you know about this man. He is a chatterbox, that is undeniable, but it never gets personal– on either sides. He knows your name and that you hurt yourself training, but he doesn’t know what you were training or when it happened… you refer to him as your physical therapy friend.

“I just couldn’t stay away for too long,” You wink at him, ignoring the fact that you looked as if you had just woken up. “I missed you too much.”

“Careful or I might just fall in love with you,” He chuckles and you two walk to the resting area.

The physical therapy room is basically a huge room with multiple beds and equipments, and somehow, you and Jackson always end up side by side. The instructors chat with you two and although you follow instructions to the letter, Jackson seems to have a mind of his own, moving freely in the room and using the equipments he seems to like. You look at your own instructor and he just shrugs, continuing to guide you through the exercise for your knee. An hour later you are done and ready to go home, knowing that today Coach wouldn’t bother your for the rest of the day.

“Y/N!” Your instructor calls. “Your knee is really improving! I’m happy with the results today.”

“Ah, that’s so good to hear,” You sigh, relived. “I have a match in the end of the month and I hope to be all healed up by then.”

“I’m sure we can make it happen!” He high fives you. “Don’t forget to get us tickets for your big comeback!”

“I won’t!” You smile and make your way outside. It is still cold but now there is a light drizzle that makes you shiver a bit, the noise almost lulling you to sleep.

“What match?” Jackson asks, and you notice he’s been outside, waiting by the door.

“Nothing too important,” You lie, chuckling a bit. “Have you been waiting for me, Jacks?”

“Oh, yeah,” He smiles wide, but it still doesn’t hide the blush that covers his cheeks. “I was thinking you might want to join me for some coffee? I don’t have work for another couple of hours, so…”

“Careful,” You joke, throwing his previous words back at him. “ Or I might just think you’ve fallen for me, already.”

He just rolls his eyes and starts walking.

————————

“What you want?” Jackson asks looking at the pastries a little bit too seriously. He frowns and examines each one.

“Just a latte,” You say, not really hungry for anything yet.

“You have to eat something,” He chastises and you just stare at him as he confidently walks up to the counter, skipping the long line forming and screams the order. “One latte, one Americano, and two chocolate scones, please!”

“How many times do I have to tell you to get in line, Jackson?” The barista yells back, but getting his things ready nonetheless.

“What is the point of you dating one of my best friends if not for me to have the privilege to skip the line?” He dramatically says, laughing at her face. “And you know I don’t have much time, so let’s go!”

“I’m going to tell on you!” She laughs. “Jaebeom won’t be happy about you treating his girlfriend like this!”

“He loved me first,” Jackson winks and grabs his stuff. “But it on Jaebeom’s tab, please and thank you!

You manage to get a table and you just observe the show that Jackson puts on for the other people; he seems to enjoy the attention more than you’ll ever be comfortable with, no matter how many people watch you fight, it always made you uncomfortable. Once he makes his way back, eyes follow him– men laughing at his antics, girl commenting on his good looks… and you had to admit, Jackson is really handsome, although you think he is particularly attractive when he’s being silly and making you laugh. You aren’t blind– nor stupid. You know Jackson’s flirty jokes aren’t just jokes. You feel the tension as much as he does, but you know better than to cross that line– the line in which you know what he does and he knows what you do and he’s always on edge about you getting hurt and you’re always on edge about him breaking up with you once you chose your career over him– even though you really, really want to. You might be mirroring your past relationships on him, but it’s what you’ve always known. People don’t take MMA seriously enough; it’s either not a real job, or too dangerous of a job. There is no in between.

“Here you go,” He smiles, sitting in front of you.

“Thank you,” You say, taking a sip of what you just decided to be the best coffee of your life. “This is amazing!”

“I know,” He chuckles. “I’m always here when I’m not at work– my best friend’s grandmother owns the place and his girlfriend manages it. Those two will give Jaebeom gray hair sooner than we expected, but he deserves it.”

“They’re a handful?” You try to guess, giggling at the face he makes.

“Ms. Im completely ignores our medical advice and believes herself to be invincible… she is 82,” He deadpans and you completely miss the our medical advice part. “And his girlfriend, although always being there for him and honestly being one of the kindest people I know, always puts him in his place. It’s quite hilarious to watch; one day he gave her some attitude because of a bad thing that happened at work and she didn’t talk to him for five days. He was on his knees by the end of the week.”

“Oh damn,” You say, eyes wide. The girl behind the counter looks so sweet… it’s incredible what you find out about people once you actually get to know them. “I would’ve never guessed it, just by looking at her.”

“Oh, she’s crazy,” Jackson says with the utmost calm in his voice and you almost choke on your drink. “But we love her, so it’s okay.”

“What have I gotten myself into?” You mutter to yourself, looking at the man in front of you.

Jackson always looks so composed, everything he wears fitting him just right, everything he does looking just right, everything he touches being just right– and then he starts talking. And that’s the Jackson you know and adore; the one that says stupid things without a care in the world, the one that doesn’t look so damn perfect all the time. You think that you only see him that way because you barely know him, but got to know a version of him in which he’s comfortable and easy going.

“So,” He says, leaning a bit on the table. “Tell me more about how you messed up that pretty knee of yours.”

“Pretty knee?” You laugh, head thrown back and all. “Let me guess, you’re into knees?”

“That’s a talk for another time,” His eyes are intense and heavy on you, and you gulp, suddenly feeling hotter and hotter by the second.

“I– uh, I m-messed up at work,” You stutter out, blushing under his knowing smirk. “And here I am.”

“What do you work with?” He asks, sounding genuinely interested. “You never talk about it.”

“Neither do you,” You say defensively, managing to deflect the question towards him. “What do you work with, you mysterious man?”

“I’m actually a–“

“Jackson!” The barista shouts, extending her arm over the counter while holding her phone. “It’s Jaebeom; he’s saying it’s urgent!”

Without a word, Jackson sprints to the phone, attentively listening to the person on the other side, and after a few nods and ‘of course,’ he is walking back to you with a look you’ve never seen before on his face.

“I am really sorry, Y/N,” He smiles sadly, shoulders tense and forehead frowning. “I have to go, it’s urgent, but… can I see you again? Outside of the clinic?”

You are at a loss of words. To say you did not expect him to do this now would be an understatement– you didn’t expect him to do this ever. And you want to tell him that; you want to tell him no and explain that you don’t have the time nor the emotional stability to do that now, but you find yourself nodding, and then you find yourself typing your number on his phone, and then you find yourself alone, because in the end you always seem to find yourself alone.

————————

Coach is screaming behind you, hyping you up for another three minutes. A round lasts for five minutes, with one-minute breaks in between, but Coach always said you should be conditioned to fight for six minutes with thirty-second breaks in between. Better to be over prepared than to be under attack, he always said, and you always laughed with fond memories of the first time you heard him say that, when you still thought you could argue that his logic was flawed and that since you are a professional fighter, your job is basically being under attack.

“Let’s go, Y/N!” He shouts and you huff, a headache creeping in on you, and you know it will make you suffer later in the night. “Come on, Y/N, stronger! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

“Argh!” You shout, falling down at the sound of the buzzer. “Goddammit!”

You hear Coach sigh. “What’s happening, kid?”

“Nothing…” You mutter, not wanting to admit it. You refused to.

“You seem to forget you can’t lie to me,” Coach laughs humorlessly. “I raised you since middle school; now let’s try again: what’s happening?”

And he’s right. Coach, also known as Hwang Jisung, had been your Physical Education teacher back in middle school, where he saw potential where everyone saw trouble. Because home had always been hectic, school was the place your aggression was misplaced, since it was a place in which aggression wasn’t a part of. Your mother left before you were old enough to even remember her face, and you father took alcohol as crutch, relying on it to get by, and even though you think he’s raised you well and the best way he could, Coach took the paternal role in your life after he saw you punching a kid in the face for speaking ill about your dad. Nowadays, your dad is doing better, having been sober for a couple of years, but Coach never left. And you are extremely thankful for it and him.

In the end, you tell all. You tell him about Jackson and about the growing tension in between you two, and about how you’re scared– scared that you’ll end up like you did after your last breakup, crying and angry for weeks. You are scared to be fooled again; and scared to fool him. But most of all, you are scared to put effort into something that will never have a future.

“I can’t do it again, Coach,” You mumble, stretching your hands above your head. “I can’t waste my time and energy like that ever again– not when I’m this close to the belt.”

“Sure,” Coach shrugs. “I hear you, kid, and I am happy to hear that dedication of yours… but also remember that you have a life outside the ring. You seem to forget that a lot, and it scares me, because if something happens and you have to stop fighting, I want you to have something to go back to.”

You nod, letting his words sink. Did you have something to go back to, besides an empty apartment with a bed neatly made?

No. You don’t think you did.

————————

Pick you up at 7.

That’s the last you hear from Jackson, a week after he left you at the coffee shop. In between practicing and shamelessly flirting at the physical therapy clinic, you two haven’t actually found a good time to go out, always missing each other by minutes. But tonight is the night, and there you are, in your living room, nervously pacing from one side to the other. The dress feels weird in your body; it’s been a while since you got dressed to look good, instead of just getting dress to practice. It felt good and odd at the same time– almost like a break from routine.

I’m here.

You take a deep breath and go to the elevator, impatiently waiting for it to get to your floor, and then back to the lobby, where you can see him and oh god he looks perfect– he looks literally flawless, what the actual fuck. Jackson is leaning on his car, white tshirt contrasting with his blue jeans, and he looks so good that you might just go back home and give up on all of this. But you can’t, because he sees you and then he’s not perfect anymore, because his eyes look like they are about to jump out of his face, like in a cartoon, and his incredulous laugh is a little too loud, and suddenly he is doubling over the car.

“You look too beautiful,” He breathes out, eyes sparkling a bit. “I can’t handle it.”

“Ya, you scared the shit out of me!” You shout, laughing. “I thought something was wrong!”

“If anything,” He says opening the car door for you. “Everything is just right.”

You blush and the date starts. It’s almost like following a script; you laugh at something he says, you flirt, you flirt some more, joke around, and everything is good. Jackson spills some wine on his shirt and instead of being embarrassed, he laughs it off and asks if you’re less nervous now.

“I fucked up already,” He explains, looking at you seriously, although you catch the mischievous glint in his eyes. “That means you have a Fuck Up Pass that can be used at any time.”

“That’s barely a fuck up,” You snort, pointing at the tiny stain. “But I’m not stupid– I’m taking that pass.”

“Planning on fucking up?” He laughs, finishing his cup. “You took the pass a bit too eagerly…”

“I just know myself,” Eyes down on your hands, the same hands that are too close to his, you admit. “I always end up fucking something up.”

“Oh,” He says dramatically, eyes moving to where yours look. He moves his hands on tops of yours and you cannot help but notice that no one ever held your hands like that before… this gently. “I can’t wait for it.”

Dinner goes by smoothly after that; Jackson keeps making jokes, and even decides to take a romantic stroll in the night market, under the excuse that he was still hungry. He buys both of you spicy tteokbokki and some chocolate filled bungeoppang, humming happily as you two walk hand in hand. You learn a lot about him, then; he has an older brother and a nice, whom he loves dearly, and before committing to medical school, because now you know he’s a doctor, he was on the path to be an olympic fencer. Jackson loves singing and dancing and he even demonstrates it, belting out to some random lyrics.

“What about you?” He asks, pulling you closer by the shoulder. The night market’s noise stay behind you as you walk in the direction of your apartment. “You know about my family, my job, my friends. I still know pretty much nothing about you.”

And this is the moment you hate the most in any date you’ve been. The moment you have to chose– do you want to tell him about your job, the one that includes punching people out of conscience? Or do you want to tell him about your chaotic childhood and the man you consider to be your father? Or, better yet, you could tell him about your failed past relationships that traumatized you for what you believe will be the rest of your life, making you insecure and afraid of yourself…

“There’s not much to say,” You shrug instead. “I’m not nearly as interesting as you.”

He laughs, but you know he’s not convinced. You two stop in front of your building and you ask him if he wants to come up for tea, and when he says yes, and walks in your apartment, and kisses you passionately, you know that sooner or later the things you hide will come out. But then he pushes you to your room and you think later might be a better time, anyways.

————————

The rain is not what wakes you up; but Jackson is. His arms, hidden under the covers you never use, are heavy around you and the weight, unfamiliar and too warm, make you wiggle in discomfort. Slightly throwing his arm to the other side, you hold a giggle as he groans, rolling to his side and allowing you to hug him instead; your leg finding a place to slot itself in-between his and your arm hugging his naked waist. You rest your forehead on his back and exhale in relief, finally comfortable… and then a phone ring. You are not sure if it’s yours or his, but he is the one that picks up, so you assume it’s not for you.

“What?” He groggily asks, hoarse voice doing things to your awakening body. “What?!”

Jackson shots up, and you almost roll out of the bed with the suddenness of it all.

“No, no no no, I’ll be there in fifteen!” He shouts, jumping around as he pulled his underwear up, looking for his pants next. “For fuck’s sake Jinyoung, cover for me just this time! I’ll be there soon, bye!”

“Is everything okay?” You ask, letting your head hit the pillow. Without his bodily warmth, the covers that miraculously cover your naked body offer you just the right amount of heat to lull you back to sleep.

“Yeah,” He hurriedly says. “I’m really sorry this is happening, oh my god, I completely overslept and it’s already 11 in the morning and work–“

“It’s what?!”

It takes only a few seconds for you to join him in the search for clothes, naked bodies brushing each other as you pass by him to reach your underwear. He gives you your t-shirt and you give him his jacket, and like that, you both get ready in record time, running out the door and to opposite directions, a wave as the only parting goodbye. You can only imagine what you looked like, running for your life to the gym, hoping that Coach won’t kill you for being three hours late. You know you are fucked as soon as you walk in and see him throwing punches in the bag.

“Coach–“

“One week until your comeback match,” He growls. “And you are slacking off?”

You expected this.

“I told you to get a life outside the ring, Y/N,” Coach says walking to you. “Not to replace it.”

“Sorry, Coach,” You mumble, frowning. “It won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” He grumbles. “Go stretch. You’re training an extra three hours for the time you made me wait.”

Well, this you didn’t expect.

“Did you eat?” He asks, already putting his jacket on. “You look like you just rolled out of bed…”

“I didn’t, Coach, sorry…” You look at him sheepishly, embarrassed with yourself. You were trained better than that.

“I’ll go grab something,” He says. “I want you fully stretched by the time I come back.”

To say that training was ruthless is an understatement. By the end of the six hours of stretching, and cardio, and weights, you could barely move. You were physically and mentally exhausted, and you just wanted to sit down and cry a little bit. You felt embarrassed and disappointed in yourself– losing track of the time because Jackson spent the night, what a ridiculous excuse; you were better then to let a crush take over you like that. You were also extremely confused and upset, knowing that he opened up to you, he managed to do it even though it probably wasn’t easy, and you can barely talk abut your family. You can’t talk about your friends because you don’t have many to begin with, and you refused to talk about your job, knowing what follows after. Aggressive. Heartless. Impulsive. Although you know better, it is almost impossible to ignore those words that hit you harder than any opponent you’ve faced in the octagon.

You think that after last night, you’d die if Jackson looked at your hands the way most people do; they are not weapons, you want to scream at people. They won’t hurt you! You still remember the way your ex-boyfriend flinched when you reached out to touch him during a fight. It’s not my fault, he told you; you hurt everyone you touch. You didn’t want to hurt Jackson; ever. Last night had been incredible– he reminded you of everything you seemed to have forgotten, everything that had been taken away from you. He treated you like a woman– he cared for you not because he thought you needed it, but because he wanted to… you could see it in his eyes as he held your hand when you were walking down the stairs, or the way he would hold the door for you. He didn’t regard you as incapable, but as independent. He didn’t see you as weak, but as precious. You could still feel the warm touch of his hands on yours, and you can’t help but want more. You want to feel like that forever.

But you can’t. Reality grounds you again when Coach starts going over your schedule for the next day; physical therapy, rest, train. You nod, promising to never be late again, and you begrudgingly move to get your things, body aching and tired. You finally have the chance to look at your phone, after six hours, and you see the five missed calls and numerous texts from Jackson; you call him immediately.

“Hello?” You say. “Jackson? Is everything okay?”

“Y/N! Hey,” He sounds relived, almost. “I’m so sorry if I freaked you out, but I forgot my wallet in your apartment and I just got out of an appointment… I was wondering if I could go pick it up?”

“Ah,” You hope you don’t sounds as disappointed as you feel, expecting him to say something more meaningful than that. Dream on, Y/N, you mock yourself internally. “I can take it to you, no problem. Text me your work address?”

“Oh, thank you so much,” He sighs, and you hear someone calling his name in the background. “See you soon!”

Dejected, you walk back to your place and you know exactly where his wallet in– sitting on the bedside table, where he left after he grabbed the condom.

“Come on, Y/N,” You say to yourself. “Stop acting like a fool. It was one night… just one night.”

You take a taxi to the address he sent you because you are too tired to walk. It takes only a few minutes and you are surprised to see the hospital, big and mighty in front of you. You knew he works as a doctor, but you were expecting something more like a private clinic. You walk in, knowing the place already, and you go to the reception desk.

“Excuse me,” You say with a tight smile. “I’m looking for Dr. Jackson Wang?”

“Do you have an appointment?” She smiles wide, and you shake your head. “I think he is booked for the night, ma’am, but I’m sure we can find a–“

“Oh, no need,” You shake your head. “I’m just here to give his wallet back…”

“Ah, I see,” She smiles. “You can leave it with me and I’ll make sure he gets it.”

“If it’s no problem I’d like to give it to him myself,” You ask, blushing a little.

“I can call him for you, if you’d like, but this is not the first time someone drops his things with us,” She smiles understandingly, chuckling a little. “Dr. Wang is a very forgetful person.”

“I see,” Your shoulder tense up. So this is not unusual for him, I guess. “I’ll wait over there.”

You sit down in the main entrance, and you look around; families waiting for their sons, or daughter, or fathers, or mothers; boyfriends, girlfriends, spouses. You wonder what it’s like having a family member waiting for you, ready to embrace you after a consultation or a surgery… only Coach waited for you; but then again, Coach is family.

“Ah, thank god you’re here,” You hear someone saying next to you, and you turn to see the girl that works in the bakery Jackson took you. She is smiling, arms open to a man with blue scrubs. He drowns in her, closing his eyes and relaxing his shoulders, seeming to find comfort in her. “It’s been a hard day.”

“I’m sure it has, love,” She says back, and you can’t help but feel guilty to eavesdrop such an intimate moment… you also couldn’t help but feel jealous; who would embrace you like that after a match? “But it’s alright, cause tomorrow is your day off and I made you some chocolate scones. Taehyung-ie is really excited for you to sleep over to–“

“Y/N!”

Interrupting the moment, you see Jackson running to you with a huge smile on his face, and you have to reprimand yourself, remembering the nurse’s words; it’s not the first time someone drops his things here, you think, smiling back. Don’t be a fool.

“Thank you so much for bringing it to me,” And Jackson, as always, does the unexpected, pulling you into a tight hug. You freeze for a few seconds, before allowing yourself to mold your body to his, feeling, for the first time, comfortably small. “Do you want to come up? I have some time before my next appointment and I just picked up some food… you didn’t eat yet, did you?”

“No, not yet but–“

“Good!” And he pulls you by the hand, surprising everyone around. You see the nurse that talked to you before and even she looks shocked; you can’t help but smile to yourself.

I’m going to allow myself to be a fool, you think, following him to his office. Just for tonight, I’m going to let myself enjoy this.

You are lying to yourself and you know it, but you don’t care. Not when Jackson sits you down on the couch in his office room, and pushes the food towards you, nagging you in the most caring of ways to eat and relax a bit.

“You look extremely tense,” He scoffs. “Do I make you that nervous?”

“N-not at all,” You smile, tightly. “I just wasn’t expecting this…”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you have plans?” He frowns softly, and a wave of guilt washes over you. He looks like a puppy!

“No!” You basically shout. “No plans. This is great, thanks Jacks.”

“So,” He starts, looking at you intently. “You still haven’t told me about yourself…”

“What about me?” And you are tense again, but this time it’s different. You recognize this kind of tension easily– it’s the same as you feel whenever you step into the ring. This is not a fight, you have to remind yourself, trying to escape the defensive mindset. Get it together, Y/N! “I told you I’m not that interesting–“

“Anything about you,” He sighs, and you know he’s frustrated with you. “Literally anything; your dreams, hopes, fears. Work, family, friends. Whatever you want to tell me, but tell me something.”

“Jackson…”

“I don’t want to push you,” He mumbles, letting his head fall on his hands, and he looks so tired. His eyes look oddly dead and sunken, and you just want to embrace him, care for him, but you don’t. You don’t dare to touch him when he’s already that fragile, afraid to break him, too. “But I’ve been trying to crack you for months, and I thought that when you agreed to go out with me it meant something– that you liked me too, hopefully. But you don’t open up. We had sex and I don’t even know where you ran to the next morning, Y/N…”

“It’s not easy, Jackson,” You say a little harsher than you intended.

“It’s not easy for me, either,” He defends himself, leaning back in the couch. “It’s so fucking hard but I did it for you!”

“Why?” You asks, frowning. “If it’s so hard, why would you do it?”

“Because I like you,” He says, softly looking at you. “I’ve liked you for so long now, and I’m so confused… sometimes I think you like me too, and sometimes I think you’re just seeing where this goes.”

“What?”

“You don’t talk to me,” Jackson sounds so defeated, and it’s all your fault. “What am I supposed to think?”

“That I like you too!” You shout, getting up and putting your jacket. “I’d never string you along, Jackson. I’m not that kind of person!”

“I don’t know what kind of person you are!” He cries out and out of everything you’ve heard, this is the one that hurts the most. “You never showed me! You never allowed me to see you!”

And you know he is right. You know he tried his best to be patient with you, to find out more about you, to respect your privacy, but in the end, he is right. You never showed yourself to him. He saw you naked, but you never laid yourself bare, and you are not sure you ever could.

“I’m sorry,” You choke out, taking a few steps back. “I’m really sorry Jackson, I- I got to go.”

“Y/N, no,” He reaches out for you, but you are out of there before he can even register it.

The ride back home feels much shorter than before and you are thankful; you couldn’t burst out crying in the back of a taxi… you wouldn’t. Once you are home, however, you cry from the front door to your room, allowing yourself to feel like you behaved before– a pice of shit. Screaming at him and then running away were the stupidest decisions you’ve ever made; you don’t think you’ll be able to forget the look in his eyes as you opened the door. Sad, defeated, exhausted.

Maybe this is for the better, you try to console yourself. Maybe I’m saving him the energy… dealing with me can’t be easy. He’s already busy with his patients, so yeah, maybe I’m helping him, after all.

You repeat that like a mantra, and for what feels like the first time ever since you moved into your apartment, you pull the messy covers back, and climb onto your bed, hoping that the weight the blankets offer would replace the comfort of having his body next to you.

It doesn’t and you barely sleep.

————————

The week flies by and you don’t see Jackson at the clinic. Your chest contracts when thinking of him skipping on his health because of how uncomfortable you made him, and you even text him– saying he can’t miss physical therapy because of you and that you’ll change your appointment date if he prefers, but he never answers and you give up. With the increase in training, you also barely have time to think about it, but when you do, it hits you like a freight train; knocking the air out of your lungs and the sleep out of your body.

“Focus!” Coach shouts, and you try; you really try to focus your eyes on the bag but it moves to fast and you miss it. “Goddammit Y/N… what happened? You were on top of your game yesterday!”

“I couldn’t sleep,” You mumble, frowning and giving yourself a few taps on the head, hoping that it would wake you up. “I’m so tired…”

“Okay, we’re ending it here,” He sighs. “The match is tomorrow… are you sure you’re ready for it?”

“Yes,” You answer mechanically. “Yes, Coach.”

“Okay,” He nods, frowning. “Come on, I’ll give you a rise home after dinner.”

He orders your favorite and you two eat in silence, enjoying each other’s company as much as you could, feeling the tension slowly leave your body and make way for nervousness. You haven’t faced an opponent in a while– you are sure how this will go.

“What happened to the boy?” Coach ask as he drinks his water. “You don’t talk about him anymore… I was excited to meet my future son-in-law!”

“Ha ha,” You say emotionless. “It didn’t work out.”

“How so?”

“Since when are you so invested in my love life, Coach?” You ask, squinting at him.

“Since you got one,” He shrugs. “You looked really happy, that’s all.”

“I was,” You whisper. “But it would never work out. He started asking too many questions that I didn’t have answers for.”

“Like what?” Coach nags. “You’re one of the smartest people I know; you have an answer for everything!”

“He asked about dad,” You say, too quick to even process what is about to come out of your mouth. “He asked about my life– my family, my job, myself. I can’t answer those, Coach, you know I can’t.”

Coach just nods, looking at his hands. “Do you trust him?”

“With my life,” You joke, thinking of him in his scrubs. “He’s a doctor…”

“Huh, so his schedule would fit well with yours,” Coach smiles slightly.

“Coach, don’t say that,” You beg. “It hurts. Having hope hurts.”

“You trust him with your life, but not with yourself,” Coach sighs. “What am I going to do with you, kid? You can’t shut everyone out like that. One day, I’ll be gone, and who will take care of you, huh? Who will watch after my little girl?”

You have tears in your eyes.

“Y/N, he makes you happy,” Coach grabs your hands, warming the up in between his. “Listen to this old man, will you? You don’t meet a lot of those– people that make you happy. He wants to know more about you because he cares… or else he wouldn’t even have asked. You’ve took punch after punch, in this life, I know that better than anyone, but maybe he can help you heal.”

“I don’t think I’m capable of healing, Coach,” You say in between sobs. “But I really want to. Oh god, I want to.”

“You’ll get there,” He brings you closer and hugs you. “I know you will. Now let’s go home; you need to sleep for tomorrow.”

The night is quick and so is the day, and soon it’s time; you are backstage getting ready and warming up. It’s time for your comeback. Coach is next to you, counting as you jump rope, voice calm and smooth and you smile at him. This man has given you everything; you aren’t failing him now.

“Let’s go!” Someone calls from outside the door and almost as if something inside of you switches, you are moving, and moving, and moving until you are at the octagon.

Your opponent is on the other side, jumping up and down and she tries to look threatening, teeth showing through the mouthguard and fists tight, but you can’t help but smile and wink at her. You’ve always been like that, light and carefree inside the ring. Not reckless, though; never reckless. Maybe I should be a little reckless sometime, you think, chuckling to yourself as the judge calls both of you to the center to touch gloves.

“Let’s have a good and clean fight,” He says.

“You’re going down,” She says, and you try to find her name somewhere in your mind.

“You’re welcome to try, Hyejin-ah,” You smile widely, going back to your place.

You hear the bell and it starts. The first five minutes are quick and you rejoice as your feet are quick and precise– kicking, jumping, moving. Your fists protect your face, keeping your guard up, and your eyes, attentive and trained, gather enough information on her so that you can finally start playing. The second round is when things get tough, for both of you. Hyejin is stronger, but you are quicker; moving as fast as possible, you punch when possible, and it’s only when she lands a jab to your face that you lose yourself for a little bit… and she pounces. Punch after punch, you can feel the glove sliding over your sweaty skin, and you feel it tear, you feel it bleed, and you feel alive. You know what to do; the punch comes and it takes only a few seconds for you to duck and hit her in the temple with your heel. In the business, you are known for your roundhouses and when the judge raises your arm above your head, you can’t help but think how good it is to be home. And how much you’d like to share this with someone. Hell, scratch that; how much you’d like to share this with Jackson.

You get back to the dressing room while still on an adrenaline high. But then it fades. And you trip. And things go a little black for a while; and you can hear Coach shouting your name, and you can feel his hand shaking you, but you can’t really get up. You’re tired and spent and you just want some sleep. You tell him that– or at least you think you did. You sleep for a while and when you wake up again you are in a car, and you know because there are bumps and Coach is there, holding your hand, and he looks like he’s praying. You smile and you think that going back to sleep for a little while more won’t hurt. You wake up once more, just for a few seconds, because of the voices next to you.

“… her condition is stable for now… waiting on tests…”

“… will she be okay?!”

“Yes.”

Then it’s fine to sleep some more, you think.

“I swear to god, kid,” You wake up with Coach’s whispers. “When you wake up, I will kill you.”

“Seriously?!” You let out an airy laugh, putting some effort into opening your eyes. “Are you really threatening me in a hospital?”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” Coach gets up, trying to look stern, but you see the softness in his eyes too easily to actually be afraid. “Are you insane? The doctors all said you were malnourished and lacking sleep! You had a fever when we got here… how the fuck did you get in the ring like that?!”

“I felt fine in the ring,” You say, confused. “But Coach…”

“What?” He grumbles, looking at you with tired eyes.

“Did I win?”

“You don’t remember?” He is genuinely surprised. “You knocked her out, kid. I’m so proud of you!”

You smile in relief. You won. You’re back.

“The neurosurgeon said nothing is wrong with your head,” Coach informs. “You took quite a fall, I’m surprised nothing happened. The Physical Therapist is coming soon to look at your knee… I’m still a bit worried about that.”

“Ah,” You smile at him tightly. “All my money from tonight will go to this hospital, I see…”

“Shut u–“

“Excuse me,” You hear a voice from the door. “My name is Dr. Wang and I’ll be your doctor today. What seems to be the problem?”

When he looks up, you feel like vomiting. His smile disappears and his eyes bulge, wide enough for them to look like they will pop out at any second. You know what you look like– swollen lip, cut eyebrow, and bruised cheeks. You felt it all.

“Y/N?” He shouts and you are surprised, flinching a little. His steps are quick and he’s soon inspecting you, hands all over your face and pressing down on your ribs. “Are you okay? What the hell happened?”

“I–“ You stop yourself before you can come up with an excuse, eyes finding Coach’s; he smiles and points to the door, walking outside. “I think we need to talk.”

Jackson just nods, hands shaking as he slowly traces your injuries.

“Jacks, I’m fine,” You sigh, closing your eyes to the feeling. “I’m used to it…”

“Used to it?!” He shouts again and you can’t help but laugh as his behavior.

“I’m a professional MMA fighter, Jackson,” You say, looking deep into his eyes, waiting for any sign of fear or disgust to show. But it never does. “This is literally my job.”

“You had a fight tonight?” He asks, moving to the other side where the chart is. “What happened? Did you get knocked out? Did they check for concussions? My friend woks for Neurosurgery, I can call him!”

“Yah, calm down,” You ask, pulling him to you by his hand. “I’m just malnourished. And exhausted. Haven’t really been eating and sleeping lately…”

At that he stops.

“Me neither,” At that, Jackson finally looks straight into your eyes, and you see it; the pain, the anxiety, the hesitation. “I don’t know what happened, Y/N, and–“

“I’m sorry,” You say before he can. “I’m sorry about everything. I like you. I like you very much, but I have some issues and I didn’t know what to do. I want to use my Fuck Up Pass... can I?”

He chuckles, nodding. “What do you mean?”

It seems that once you finally open up, you don’t stop. Until three in the morning you talked; about your past, starting from the young age of when your mother left, to now, and he listens– attentively, holding your hand and smiling as sign of support. He falls asleep before you do, resting his forehead on the bed next to you, and you are still awake once his phone rings nonstop, demanding his presence somewhere else.

“Jackson,” He grunts once you shake him. “You have to go.”

“Why?” His head shots up, eyes barely open.

“I think someone is calling you back to work,” You chuckle. “You can come back later.”

“It’s seven in the goddamned morning,” He groans, getting up and stretching his arms above his head. You have to admit, he looks really good in the morning. “I hate this.”

“That’s a lie,” You call him out, smiling. “You love your job.”

“I do,” And goofy Jackson is back. “I’ll come back once my shift is over and I’ll take you home, yeah?”

You nod and he kisses you goodbye, laughing once the heart machine beeps faster.

————————

“All night I'll riot with you, I know you got my back and you know I got you,” You close your eyes in embarrassment as you hear his voice getting closer. “So come on, come on, come on, let’s get physical!”

“Please,” You beg, grunting when the instructor pushes your knee a bit too hard. “Stop singing that stupid song.”

“Dua Lipa is a queen and you shall never disrespect her again!” He cries out, making you chuckle fondly. Jackson is next to your bed now, sitting on a stool. “How’s the knee, Doc?”

“Pretty good,” Your instructor smiles, nodding appreciatively. “She’d be all healed by now if she hadn’t walked in that ring without stretching.”

“Excuse me,” You nag. “That was months ago!”

“And look where you are now,” Jackson sighs. “Babe, seriously, you need to be more careful. I’m not always there to take care of you.”

“What the fu– You’re not even my doctor!” You protest, frowning at him. “We’ve been dating for three months now and you never–“

“I’m not your doctor because you won’t let me,” He deadpans. “Something about private and work life… tsk.”

The instructor watches you two with a small smile, slowly waking away to the front desk where his colleagues are.

“I won the bet,” He says, raising his hand. “Pay up.”

“Not fair,” One of them grumbles while giving him the money.

“I said those two would get together, and look at them now.”

You stop bickering to look at the workers in the front desk, staring and laughing at you.

“You’ll destroy my reputation like this,” You complain, but Jackson laughs.

“What reputation?”

“Shut up,” You chuckle and pulls him in for a kiss.

“Admit it,” He pecks your lips. “You’ve gotten softer ever since we started da– ouch! Oh my god, guys, have you seen this? My girlfriend, my girlfriend who is a fighter, just punched me! I’m going to die!”

“Oh my god, Jackson,” You grumble, getting up and dragging him out of the clinic. “You’re so dramatic…”

“Said the girl who made a whole fuss about dating me,” He jokes, winking at you when you look at him with your mouth hanging open. He always made jokes about it, although he’s been extremely patient and loving.

“I’ll kill you one day,” You sigh, grabbing his hand. “But for now, let’s go home.”

He wiggles his brows and you just know what he’s going to do.

“Let’s get physical!”

You smile.

“We’ll see.”

-----------------------------------

okay so this is way longer than I though it would be LOL but at least I figured out the ‘read more’ function!!! Other thank that, I kind of love how this turned out! The General Hospital series has been giving me a lot of joy to write and I hope you all like it too! As always, leave a comment and let me know what you think <3 Love you all!❤️

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writing-gifts · 4 years

Text

we ain’t in kansas anymore ch.02 (bruno x gn!reader)

chapter 01

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A/N: okay im trying to do gn!reader but a lot of italian is gendered so when i'm trying to use cute little names or have someone refer to reader it causes issues. So I could use * or @ for the ‘a’ or ’o’ at the end of these terms for writing but that doesn’t work for dialogue, so i'm just gonna use ‘u’ for ex: instead of cara or caro ill say caru

anyways bruno isnt in this chapter but you get to do ur laundry heh

Italian dialogue is “italicized like this”

---

The whirring sound of the payphone buzzes in your ear as you wait for someone to pick up. You close your eyes as the seemingly perpetual sound fills your head, hoping for the result you want.

Please please please...

A click.

"Hello?"

"H-Hello, is this ___ ___? Or do you know someone by that name?"

"Sorry, I think you have the wrong number."

"Oh, okay. Thanks," you reply, furrowing your brows and biting your lip. You hang the phone back on the receiver.

What now?

Someone knocks on the door behind you.

You lift your head from the glass you had rested it on and see a man looking at you impatiently from outside the phone booth.

You open the door to get out. "Sorry about that. I accidentally zoned out..."

What?

“Uh nevermind." Grimacing, you quickly walk away towards Fugo who’s waiting for you.

The moment you're close enough you realize that Fugo is giving you a disapproving look. “Please don’t talk to random people.”.

You can't help frowning at his tone. It wasn’t that harsh but you're tired. “I know, it's just habit but I'll try to stop...

He sighs. "No, I shouldn't have said it like that. Just try to avoid it okay."

Even though you were a bit caught off guard by how quickly he backtracked, you nod and follow him as he walks ahead of you.

"I'm taking you to a hotel nearby that you'll be staying at until further notice."

At least that was one less thing to worry about.

After some silence Fugo speaks up again.

“...Did you find out what you wanted?”

“I found out something but it wasn't what I hoped. That guy’s powers--”

“Stand ability,” Fugo corrects.

“Yea that...I’m 100% sure he could pull people from different realities or universes or something along those lines.”

"So you getting home has become much more unlikely."

You rub at your temples. "There has to be a way though…"

Fugo doesn’t look convinced but doesn’t say anything more.

After hailing a taxi, you and Fugo finally reach the hotel. It was a small business that looked like it had been there for many years.

“Who’s paying for this?” you ask.

“Buccellati has already taken care of it.”

You felt a bit strange about that, but it was nice that he was doing all of this instead of leaving you confused in the streets.

For being in the mafia these guys aren’t too scary, especially Narancia. At the same time, you haven’t even known them for a full day however you choose to ignore the small knot anxiety within you.

Maybe Buccellati just felt he was responsible for you...

As soon as you and Fugo enter, you are immediately greeted by a pretty, older woman standing behind a counter.

Fugo and the lady converse in Italian while you look over to the side waiting. You hoped you showing up suddenly like this wasn’t too much trouble.

“___--” your attention snaps back to them, “this is Signora Rizzo”

“Stella Rizzo”, she interjects. “You can just call me Stella caru mio.”

Fugo deadpans but continues, “She’ll show you to your room. If you need anything just come to her.”

You nod. “Um, are you coming back again or…?”

“Most likely, but I don’t know when.”

Fugo moves to leave and you tell him bye which he awkwardly returns.

Stella gives you a warm smile and you feel yourself relax and return your own smile, although not as full.

“Let me take you to your room, you must be tired.”

Mrs. Stella leads you up the stairs to the 2nd floor of the hotel. The hallway’s a bit narrow and there's only 4 doors from what you can see. You wondered if there was anyone else staying here right now.

She stops in front of the door 2nd closest to the stairway. “Okay here's the room you'll be staying in--it’s the best one.” She winks at you before pulling out a key from her skirt pocket and unlocking the door for you.

“Here’s the key.” Her polished nails touch your palm as she places the key in your hand. “I think you're going to be holding on to it for a while so make sure to keep it safe kay?”

"Okay." You look at the key in your hand and slip it into your pocket for now. You needed to find a keyring or bag for yourself later.

“I'll be right back caru. You can get yourself comfortable.”

She leaves you in the room alone. It was simply furnished, with a bed, a desk, a dresser, and a small old tv. There's a door to the side which you go to open and see is a small restroom.

You walk in and look at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes immediately go to your neck. It’s stained with dried blood, but there wasn’t any type of cut. Other than it feeling pretty strange, there was nothing.

Was this another stand thing?

You sigh to yourself. Your shirt was also stained, but the workers at the restaurant hadn’t even shown a hint of anything being out of the norm. You honestly wish you could do the same.

You wanted to shower first but had no new clothes. Maybe you could hand wash and let them dry overnight?

You're about to turn on the faucet to the sink when you hear a knock on the hotel room door. Expecting it to be Mrs. Stella, you leave the bathroom to let her in. She holds out some folded cloth and a basket filled with various items to you .

“I brought you some clothes caru. I thought you would want something to change into for bed--I'm sorry that they aren't very appealing looking-- and I also brought you a toothbrush, soap, towel, and some other stuff I can’t remember grabbing too.”

The appearance wasn’t an issue, you were just glad you wouldn’t have to sleep naked tonight. You laugh a little,“Thanks. By the way, do you have a place where I can wash my clothes?”

“You have to hand wash them. I can get you a tub and detergent.”

“Oh guess you had the right idea. It wasn't a lot so you could just use the sink like you originally planned.”

“Detergent is enough, thanks! Actually I'll come with you.”

“Sure and if you need anything else don't be afraid to come down to the front desk and ask. My children sometimes take up the front but they should still be able to help you.”

Were her kids anything like her?

After you're given the detergent, you head back to your room.

You empty your pockets and change out of your clothes to take a quick shower. After you're done and dried off, you put on the spare clothes you were given--a plain t-shirt and some comfortable athletic shorts.

You loosen the drawstring until you're comfortable, then grab your dirty clothes that you tossed on the bathroom floor. When the sink’s filled halfway, you pour detergent into the (too hot) water. Even after all the scrubbing, the stains were still slightly visible but not enough to notice unless someone was close.

You wring out the excess water and let the sink drain so you can rinse out your clothes. You then take them out to the small balcony attached to your room and hang your clothes on the railing.

The streetlights light up parts of the empty street and sidewalks, while the alleyways seem to only embrace the darkness making it impossible to see or tell the things that could be possibly happening within.

You frown, suddenly feeling even more exhausted and go back inside. The moment you get comfortable in bed, you’re asleep within a minute.

----

You stir from your sleep feeling as if someone has turned on the lights. Your eyes open just slightly enough and you immediately pull the covers over your head when you realise that the light from the window is shining directly on your face.

Did you have work today? You reach out to grab your phone where you usually left it on your night stand but your hands grab at air. You grumble. What time was it?

A minute passes before you poke your head out from under your covers and stare at the glass door of the balcony across the room. You stare wondering when you got a balcony. Your eyes widen and you sit up and look at your surroundings.

So that wasn’t a dream.

You frown remembering your situation, and rub the sleep from your eyes.

You honestly just want to go back to bed but you’re too awake now, so you force yourself to move towards the restroom and go through your usual morning routine. When you finish brushing your teeth, you walk on to the balcony, watching the people going about their day as you gather your clothes.

You snap out of it when you realize that a random person has noticed you staring and go back in to change with sluggish movements. You try to get your appearance in order the best you can with the items that were given to you yesterday..

While you’re in the middle of cleaning your face, Mrs. Stella shows up at your door, giving you a quite chiper good morning and asks if you want to join her for breakfast. Even though the thought was kind, you felt a little nervous going out of your room for too long, so you ask if you can eat in there instead.

“I hope I’m not taking up too much of your time.”

“It’s fine caru mio. I’m serious when I say don’t be afraid to ask for anything.”

Mrs. Stella comes back with eggs, bread with jam, fruit and a caffè latte--you mimic her words--to drink.

Seeing all that food made you realize how hungry you were. You thank her before you take it into your room to eat.

It was delicious and you honestly wanted seconds but you weren’t comfortable asking.

After you’re done, you realize that you need to take the plate downstairs but you don’t want to bring it back down dirty. Cleaning it in the restroom sink wasn’t probably the best idea either.

Other than that you don't really know what to do now. Were you going to spend the whole day here?

You rub at your neck without thinking. Something was definitely wrong with it--you could barely turn your head without discomfort.

A knock sounds on the door and you get up to open it expecting to see Mrs. Stella again.

"Fugo?"

The teen stands in front of you, wearing the same green, holey suit from yesterday. (Did he have multiple of the same outfit?)

“I came to pick you up.”

“That was quick. Uh where are we going?”

“You’ll know when we get there. We’re kinda on a tight schedule; we only have a small time window for this.”

It must not be safe to say here but you can't help thinking it was bothersome not knowing what was happening.

You run inside quickly to grab your phone and key. You see the plate on your dresser and also grab it.

”What's that in your hand,” Fugo asks as you walk down the stairs.

“...My dirty plate?”

He looks at you as if you said something stupid. “No I mean in your other hand.”

“Oh,” okay that was a little dumb, “That’s my phone.”

“So that’s what phones will evolve to...”

You hum showing him your phone more clearly, “Touch screens are pretty much the norm in like 2 decades. I can’t imagine going back to anything before it at this point!” There could be a prototype or something existing right now for all you know.

You wave goodbye to Mrs. Stella after giving her your dish which you can’t help apologizing for. She waves it off of course, but next time maybe you’d eat with her so you could wash your own dish.

You’re then led outside of the building to a car parked at the other side of the street.

You see Narancia’s head poking out of the window on the passenger side.

He perks up when he sees you. "Good morning ____!"

“Good morning”, you say back you can't help grinning. His smile was kind of contagious.

You get into the back of the car and lean towards Narancia’s seat to catch his attention. “Hey, you know where we’re going? Oh wait--nevermind.” You shake your hand next to your head as if you’re fanning your words away.

Leaning back, you pull the seat belt across your body. You wish you knew more than a few basic Italian phrases.

Narancia looks a little confused but understands that he doesn’t need to worry about it.

You play with your phone and Narancia listens to the radio as Fugo drives you all to wherever you are going.

As you slide the screen back and forth looking at the no signal symbol--your phone only had 50% charge left--you land on the page with your translation app.

...Would it still work?

You open it, pick the Italian option and type something into it.

When you press the speaker symbol, you and Narancia slightly jump when the sound of a robotic voice sounds in the car. Woops, you didn’t realize the volume was that loud.

“Uh, what was that?” Narancia asks.

“Ayy, really works!” the app said.

“What are you doing?” Fugo asks, furrowing his brows from the weird sentence but trying to keep most of his focus on the road.

“I have a translator app on my phone. It might come in handy? Probably only for simple statements though.” Typing ‘ayy’ probably wasn’t helping though.

You wonder when stuff like this actually came out. You didn’t have strong knowledge on when certain technology showed up (or became obsolete). These things just came and went into your life without you giving it much thought.

Narancia forces Fugo to explain and then he turns towards you, he eyes your phone with a very curious look on his face.

“I don't completely get it but sounds cool!”

You couldn't see Fugo’s face but he was curious as well.

#bruno aint in this chapter so im not even gonna tag the ship or him lol #this is pretty much a setup chapter #reader insert #jjba #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #oc #this is my first time making an oc in a fanfiction #Pannacotta Fugo #Narancia Ghirga #my writing #gift's writing #x reader

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way-veee · 4 years

Text

yān yǔ

rating: m

genre: romance, fluff, comedy, wayv being absolute crackheads

word count: 1.5k +

pairing: reader x wayv

pt. 4

you were typing up a section of your school report that was due yesterday in the cafe attached to the building that wayv was staying at. you’d been so focused on wayv that you only started it today.

your hands felt numb from typing as you wrote paragraph after paragraph in the afternoon sun with an iced latte. then you feel a hand on your back.

“hi!” kun says smiling. you smile back, you really liked kun. he was always nice to you and the boys and he seemed fun to be around. you just wondered why he was here.

he probably saw the confusion on you face, but ignored it. “what’re you doing?” he asks casually.

“oh im working on a school report.”

he nods, “i miss school.”

“did you.. go to school?”

he blushes at you embarrassed.

“nonono not like that” you laugh, “im genuinely curious, when you were training did you go to school?”

“i became a trainee after i finished high school so i didn’t have too unlike most trainees.”

you nod, curious. “do you ever think you’ll want to do any future schooling?”

taken a back by your question he thinks for a moment.

“ i’d like to get a degree in aviation or aeronautical science.”

you look at him shocked. of course idols could be smart, but for some reason the thought never occurred to you here.

“wow...” you say. “that’s so fascinating... for any particular reason? or,”

he chuckles at how surprised you were. “yeah, i’ve always been interested in aircraft and that aspect of science. i tried to start training for a plane license, but it didn’t work at the time. i think i’ll have to wait a bit before i try again.

you know that “didn’t work at the time” meant that sm didn’t let him move forward with his training and “wait a little bit” meant when he was done performing and in his forties.

you decided not to say anything else, if you could just finish your stupid school work, you’d be free to work on your “plan” that with the boys.

“what do you study?” he questions, expecting you to say journalism or english.

“archaeology and linguistics.” you reply, frowning at your hypothetical coliseum excavation report.

“whoa.” he laughs, he was not expecting you to say that. you had to be crazy smart to study archaeology. and linguistics? no wonder you knew chinese you probably knew multiple languages. you were such a mystery it was astounding.

“that’s... um...” before he can embarrass himself even more or trip over words and blush in your face, he remembers why he came to see you in the first place.

“oh, when you get a chance, we wanted to talk to you in our room.”

“sure, i can come now if that’s okay”

he nods and smiles again. so you pack up your laptop. “am i allowed to be in your rooms?” you question.

“well, not exactly. but its not like we’ve never had strangers in there. as long as the staff members don’t come in,” he stops talking and faces forward red cheeked yet again.

because you didn’t have to think too hard on what type of strangers they would let into their bedrooms.

“its okay. i’ll put my hair up in a hat and if any of them come in they’ll just think i’m winwin.”

kun laughs hysterically at this and you grin. you liked making him laugh.

when you entered one of the boys bedrooms it was like you were a convict walking into a court hearing. all of the boys sat stone faced on the beds looking up at you.

then, amidst the thick quiet you hear xiaojun yawn, then winwin punches his exposed stomach for some reason and xiaojun squirms backwards falling on ten who yells hysterically and accidentally hits lucas in the face.

while all this is happening kun doesn’t blink an eye and looks at them with an “im done with these crackheads” look and just stands beside you.

you just stand there wondering how they possibly fit that many grown men onto a single bed.

after they finish whatever they were doing they become stone faced again and you're forced back up to the podium for your trial.

“i brought her here because we decided to talk about the thing” kun says trying to jog their memory.

“what thing?” lucas asks.

“ya i don’t remember anything about that.” hendery adds.

“after the cooking show?” kun says through gritted teeth.

“what cooking show?” hendery says, actually lost.

kun blinks once, twice then pretends like hendery never spoke in the first place.

“we never really discussed the details and our managers shouldn’t be bothering us today. so we wanted to seriously talk about it.”

you nod, like these guys could be serious.

“thanks again for what you did that day,” lucas says, then looking at winwin to say the same. but he pretends not to hear and looks away.

it was fine by you, you didn’t do it for his appraisal, you did it because you wanted to.

the room falls into a kind of stale silence until xiaojun gestures to an electric keyboard resting on their table.

“we hear you can play the piano?”

you death stare ten for telling everyone but he immediately looks away like he has no idea what xiaojun was talking about.

“yes, i use to play a lot more.”

you really don’t want to play the piano right now. it was a sensitive matter and you’d definitely be awkward.

“can you play it for us?” xiaojun asks

“oh, no i don’t think i can,”

they all start to encourage you to play saying “come on” and “please,”

the piano falls in your lap and you try to protest as they turn it on. your face gets really hot because of this stressful situation. but then you all hear a knock on the door.

“boys? are you in there?”

fear enters everyone's eyes as the manager knocks on the door.

you thought that they weren’t supposed to be here today.

“uuuh just wait a second i’m naked!” yangyang yells.

you look over confused, “ you could’ve just asked him to wait”

before he has time to protest ten grabs you by the arm.

“we have to hide you now!”

“where?”

“i’m just coming to drop off lucas’s jacket he left, and i also wanted to discuss the fan meet details!”

“quick!” kun yells, shoving you under the white sheets of the bed closer to the window. as the manager walks in.

“here can i just leave it on the chair?” the manger questions, wondering why ten was lying vertically across the bed.

“um, okay. about the fan meet, the bus schedule has changed to 45 minutes earlier so be ready to leave in the lot at around 9:20.”

he keeps talking about their fan meet details as you majorly overheat under their thick covers. it didnt also help that ten was lying on your stomach literally crushing the air out of your body.

the manager finally leaves after what feels like an eternity and you gasp for air, sitting up.

“aagh!”

they all laugh at you with your messy hair and red face.

“did you really have to lie on my stomach?” ten looks innocently up at you after he rolls down to lie on your upper legs.

“hey i think i did a good job, he didn’t seem to notice anything.”

you stick your tongue out at him in revolt and he tries to grab it so you try to wrestle his hands down to his chest. after you somehow managed to push his hands down, you lean down on his chest as he coughs hysterically.

bet he didn’t like how that felt very much.

the boys were looking at you weirdly. so to break the silence you suggest, “why don’t we finish this in my room? staff members can’t just barge in because i am,”

“not an idol?” yangyang suggests.

“not worth their attention?” winwin adds

“you’re a laaady?” xiaojun says.

“you’re a ghost, like in the sixth sense, where it’s just in the boy’s head, but you’re simultaneously in all of our consciousnesses.” hendery says.

“how come i can touch things then?” you say lifting up ten’s limp arm and then letting it fall back down.

“well... you’re the kind of ghost that has an actual form and..” he trails off and you slowly say,

“ok.... well anyways let’s go there and we can discuss that more later?”

the boys get up and walk outside to enter your room.

you sit on your chair to let the seven boys take the bed. they inspect your room closely.

“wow your room is like way worse than ours.” lucas states looking disgusted around.

“ya you definitely got tricked, this must be a joke.” kun laughs looking at your small quarters.

“umm y/n?” yangyang says while pointing to a white lacy bra you had left on the ground at the foot of your bed.

“oops” you say slightly embarrassed. you go over and put it in your suitcase facing away from them purposely.

“okay,” kun says slightly blushing as well. “now for the details.”

you nod earnestly waiting.

“we want you to write an article about our mismanagement. its okay though, you can do it under a fake name so you won’t be fired, and we’ll give you all the information.”

“we need someone that’s good at writing to make the article readable.” lucas adds.

you laugh for about 30 seconds, and the boys wonder if they said something funny.

“you’re big plan is to write a strongly worded article?”

“well,” ten says. “it would technically be you writing the article.”

“I was going to write a strongly worded article anyways...”

“oh..” xiaojun says defeated.

“i had something better in mind” you smirk.

they look at you in surprise, you had thought of them.

“do you guys have access to your albums drive on the producers computer?”

“sure” kun replies. “they give us some previews of beats and backtracks for our lyrics. also while yangyang was trying to download animal crossings on a company computer he downloaded a hidden file with the passwords for all sm music producers accounts.” kun glares at yangyang remembering that time.

“what? I didn’t meddle with anything, I could’ve easily adlibbed on sunny side up, but I didn’t because I’m responsible...”

everybody just looks at yangyang for a few seconds before returning to the conversation.

“what i’m suggesting, is you guys make the title track that you’ve always wanted too. do whatever you want, make an amazing track and right as the other title song is about to be released and sent for album production. you switch it out.”

“i don’t know...” winwin states, “wouldn’t they figure it out if they previewed the songs, then we’d be in big trouble.”

“no,” ten says back. “if you’re on the laptop you could just change the file name of the new track to the one they want us to release, and it’d be a single encryption for the producers.”

“how do you know this?” lucas replies.

“yeah you’ve never taken any computer classes hyung.” xiaojun replies.

“hey, we do things a little differently over in thailand. you need to be good a whole bunch of things.”

“literally one of the only videos that we have of you in thailand is with red spiked hair rapping baby by justin beiber.” hendery yells at ten.

ten’s ears turn red immediately as he yells “okay but i also learned a lot about computers there too!”

“i think you just like to watch a lot of porn on company laptops.” lucas says.

the boys break out into laughter as ten just slowly nods in agreement.

“do you guys like the idea? we can start working on it right away and I can also release an article on the song so the producers cant recall it.”

“okay.” kun says looking at wayv. “should we do this.” he looks at the others and you feel very out of place so you get up to leave.

“where are you going?” xiaojun asks softly.

“oh, i was just gonna give you guys a minute.”

the boys look up at you with big round eyes.

“but we want you here.” yangyang says.

“yea, you’re apart of this too y/n, without you we wouldn’t be able to do this.” kun says smiling.

you feel a large swell of emotions in your stomach at the boys kind words, you sit back down.

“we’re gonna do this.” ten says totally serious.

“we’re gonna do this.” they all respond back nodding.

“yay!” you jump up, “this is gonna be so fun! i can just imagine the coverage this’ll give the article! and you guys of course too is- are important i meant to say that first...” you stopped talking for the good of everyone.

they seem to find it endearing though, as they smile.

“alright then, we’ll start as soon as we get to bejing.” winwin says.

“wait but isn’t that in four days?”

“no y/n, we leave tomorrow, did you not hear the manager, or were you too preoccupied with my big juicy butt?” ten jokes.

“please never refer to your butt as big and juicy again, it was definitely the first one.”

the boys laugh definitely thinking of ten’s butt.

“okay, this has been fun but now i have to pack so..” you say it in a way so the boys would know that they should leave.

“oh, we don’t mind.” lucas says clueless.

“yea you can pack, you really wear the same two sweaters everyday.” winwin says smiling annoyingly.

“okay out for real now, i mean it.” they all get up and leave now, filing out.

they wave to you as they leave and you shut the door promptly. wondering how you got yourself into this mess, and how this was gonna end.

part 5

#wayv #wayv yangyang #wayv imagines #wayv kun #wayv xiaojun #wayv fluff #wayv lucas #wayv hendery #wayv ten #wayv winwin #wayvsmut #wayv x reader

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shytiff · 4 years

Text

Small Dec Wins

i cant believe its December already tf?!?!?!

1 - poli KIA today. saw a mother who cant feel the movement of their baby. the senior midwife tried to find the baby’s heart beat but not finding it. she said she hopes she were wrong. fell asleep at 3pm-ish, woke up super hungry. ate. i swear i feel like my weight when i measured it this morning was ~52, but after eating its close to 54 lol. eating banana and chocolate nextar is yummm. dalbang today is hella funny as always and suuper endearing. fell asleep after dalbang, didnt study hufttt

2 - today im at igd but joined azkia at vk for a bit to see partus. its not that im scared (maybe not consciously) but when the mom was being stitched i felt lightheaded, nausea, cold extremities, and i even had to squat multiple times because i couldnt stand. But i felt better after the partus so maybe seeing it was the cause. I did not feel scared at all honestly ._. and i’ve seen multiple partus before. i dont know why. i can literally feel my symphatetic tone giving out lmaoo. tried matcha latte with Cy matcha powder. it tasted more milky and grassy. mom thought it tasted like nori. i prever cocodeli alll the way (although Cy is cheaper). i think it also has a bit of caffeine that made me feel awake like a normal person should be.

3 - today is vk but there’s no patient so thank god i saw sumn yesterday. did some cicil ukmppd in the morning accompanied by matcha latte. tried to order dufan tickets and i couldnt find my damn ktp...... fell asleep after worrying about said ktp

4 - matcha latte in the car, swab at lmk, went to dufan by tj with willy, had quite some funn with atikah nila willy amel pupuy. first time trying kereta misteri, quite fun. it rained after ashar so we didnt ride anything after that. turns out my ktp was at barel’s fotocopy lmaoo thankyou ara for picking it. went to solaria ancol afterwards, picked up by mom. i didnt tell her in the morning that i was going to dufan lmao. plenary @ zoom 19 pm. rapat nemo. fell asleep.

5 - went to lmk by tj to surprise clara. went back home and fell asleep. didnt rly do anything afterwards because this ragged body gets tired easily and i dont eat much recently. i can feel the difference before and after eating and there’s actual energy after eating. its not that im hungry though, but i feel less energized. felt annoyed terrible and just wanna lay in bed (this is unrelated with the less food in my system). even though i met up with friends

6 - after LOTS of sleeping i feel somehow better but not to a ‘normal’ amount. watched kimbab family videos. did power vinyasa by doogether with fianti. took a shower and ate indomie and i felt quite normal, except i slept again wtf. i thought i would have the second half of the day but nah. did self tryouts with fianti, 150 FDI questions. I got 96/150 right. huft. such a great reality check

7 - poli lansia with dokter isip, matcha latte in the afternoon rly helps me not sleeping the day away, packed up for depok

8 - poli umum with dr gita (helped doing phys exam), packed the rest of my stuff, ate some risol and matcha lattteee in the car, took swab results, picked up hazmats etc, zoom discussion with FT PKM Kalideres (dr gita) on the way, and i finally arrived at tamel. dinner is granola with vsoy. Taste like a slightly wet granola bar, nutty fiber-y vibe

9 - walked in ui with ara, managed to jog from the trees near st ui until kuburan bikun wow. i reached that point where my leg and heart were going in a steady unburdened pace and my willpower to keep going on was tested. tried the signature steak in Double U Steak by Chef Widi, while ara tried ribeye. the ribeye was more tender than the signature. but the seasoning in the signature is quite delish, salty and oily without being too much (like futago ya). read poppyland fast pass from ara’s phone omg season 1 is finally complete! went to coftof (omgggg i miss this place), it looks different now. ordered matcha latte and it tasted weirdly like a soy milk although ara doesnt feel that way. the matcha tasted weird. wont repurchase. read chainsaw man, its so entertaining, funny and deep at the same time. denji mess around and be too naive sometimes but hes lowkey hot lmaooo. aki is lovvvvve.

10 - first day at rsud budhi asih. had moesli combined with granola + vsoy for brekkie. went back to tamel at 3 pm. it rained when i got back. bought warteg lugina worth 32k. walked to sbux for tumbler day its been a while since i had their matcha latte. it tasted quite good, but not as good as i remembered (?) maybe bcs i asked for non fat milk. sbux closes at 8 pm for now hikss

11 - left tamel at about 7:10 and arrived on budhi asih at 08:54 yalll the traffic. Icu. Bought eatlah double and ate the salted egg part. Nap. ICU discussion with dr Dedi @8pm. I presented from my phone to save data hehe,,

12 - woke up at 8, eatlah brown butter for brekkie, symcard, saladstop's caesar salad for lunch (quite 'eneg' because i didnt eat the cheese evenly so the chicken and cheese were eaten last after the vegs are out. The vegetable's not that variative, and the non vegs make the salad taste delicious (albeit maybe not THAT healthy). Evening jog @UI and i realized i can get wifi sitting near the lake n library. Stared at the night sky from my room, i swear the sky seems super clear. Saw tiny fireworks in the distance

13 - ate muesli and saladstop’s banana walnut cake, symcard, bought moon chicken and saladpoint. lunch was egg salad and the wings. the original tasted so good like??? maybe i havent had msg for a while. also tried big bang, not too spicy which is nice. cicil ukmppd. put my laundry at buih barel lmaoo. try out with fianti. got 70/100

14 - breakfast was salad and leftover chicken. today was bangsal with angga armand. the geriatric patient has a loud murmur yall (and scoliosis, so much that the heart looks distorted). went to margo city to see sales, but when i think about it id rather just thrift stuff lmao. bought lugina. slept through kuliah guru besar. writing this in yellow truck coffee, that had 2 customers on the 1st floor including me. tried banana milk. yall after trying to drink less sugar the beverage tasted super sweet. my headache just goes away. sugar is magic but unhealthy whyyyyy.

15 - igd siang with indah. This body sure is frail. Did cbd with dr afifah AND rescheduled pleno. Rip mobile data i have to use for hotspot.

16 - ok today. Inserted goedel and did bagging. I bagged the patient the wrong way at first (too much). Thankfully the nurses were kind and taught us a lot :) watched some bts content. I feel like after reading househusband my tiktok page is now immensely funnier. Dalbang is also hilarious as always. Put on ginseng sheet mask (smells quite strong)

17 - bangsal. snacked on fried chicken. matcha latte starbucks (turns out its quite full here) and liqo about keeping our tongues in check

18 - arrived at icu. And then opened line. Turns out hadin's swab is positive, so agung kak iman and me have to isolate and swab. So i went back. Ordered kanayam chicken and fish and tempe. Nasi liwet tasted goood damn. Sleptt in the afternoon. Pleno at 4 pm (entered the room 4:30). Had no motivation to do anything. Azkia is getting married! Spent 20 mins formulating words to congratulate her lmaoo

19 - osce simulation, kak nanu was so kind and encouraging. Did try out solid. Lunch is fish bite pasta with melted cheese (cause i had to reach the minimum amount for promo). It got cold so its not that good (pairing it with self made mentai sauce, mixing the mayo and chili, is way much better). Jogged in ui (and searched for wifi). Approached by someone selling haraus coffee (25k), saying that some earnings will be for charity. Its basically sweet. Can barely taste the coffee.

20 - had kanayam for lunch (brekkie is almost always muesli lately). The nasi liwet tasted much better the first time. Walked to yellow truck coffee in the pouring rain. Got banana milk. Saw webinar ksk (electrolyte correction and dr nadhira talkshow). What i got from it is that, dr nadhira is a different person from the first place. Shes visionary, knows what she want and not afraid to reach it. The mindset is different. Even if i try as hard as her, her propensity to growth is different. Cicil ukmppd. Try out with fianti (got 72/100). Talked for an hour about love and marriage and engagements (there are so much of it lately)

21 - leftover kanayam for brekkie, also ate roti salman in cikini st. swab today (met kris, nessa and others). muesli for lunch. i thought my body felt a bit warm, so i decided to find sumn to eat. tried kedai abu bakar’s spaghetti brulee. its okay. maybe because its not too cheesy or meaty, mainly bechamel sauce. the one pupuy made is much tastier. finished the whole 10x20 portion in 2 eating sesh. cicil ukmppd @ bed in the evening (somehow felt refreshed enough to be able to concentrate in bed)

22 - went early to icu to put dops form. lugina for early lunch. i feel like my metabolism is faster? or my body is not so much in calorie deficit mode anymore and it got greedier lmao i used to just ignore hunger but not now, for health. starbiiies tumbler day. ordered black tea latte with non fat milk and vanilla syrup (because raspberry syrup is no more). did cbd geri ppt.

23 - finally knew the swab result bcs kak iman asked kak farras. thankfully negative. igd with jordi. quite a few chances to do iv line, but i failed 2 times. managed to do iv injection to insert 2 drugs. saw the worst cpr ive ever seen in my life. its too slow, with maximal interruption. fish bite for lunch. wasted the rest of my day

24 - originally intended to run but i cant bring myself out of bed. packed up my stuff. picked up by mom. got the paper result of swab, got ksk from kelvyn @ capitol. can finally drink self-made matcha latte again, but it tasted horrible. i know cy matcha doesnt have that much going on, but even this is low even for them. previously i was starting to get used to the grassy smell.

25 - my lil bro remarked “maybe shes depressed because she doesnt have her chair”. fuck yall. this “depression” that im in is caused by this very place and the people. and im supposed to still muster the strength to study for ukmppd AND get my face together for solid book photoshoot. that shit is too much. this is why the money that goes to cafe, and the bike ride there is worth it for my sanity. after showering, things felt a bit better. had absolutely no will to study today. ate muesli with a bit of matcha latte.

26 - muesli for breakfast. matcha latte is lyfff ive probably said this before but it ~somehow~ makes me feel normal and not in a slump. like im a regular person. with normal moods. and not wanting to sleep all the time. i try to do ukmppd exercises but the pace is so fucking slow, bcs im distracted by get rich haha,,,. the latest potn update (64) is omgggg the mixed feelings? love? hate? anger? everything and nothing? the ~tension and passion~? im obsessed. watched a ton of bts content today and yesterday lmao.

27 - nasi kebuli for brekkie. went to flavola, im the first customer lmao. tried kopi susu coklat, tasted quite close enough to janjiw’s kopi soklat. had the same ~improved mood and concentration~ effect. tried to read ksk. bought milky banana 1L from puyo to give dajen (its his bday yesterday) (i feel prompted (?) to gift people when theyve given a present to me) (because my love lang is not gift giving at all so i barely think abt gifts lmao). talked with sum 33 ipa guys @ dajens house. yay appropriate amount of social battery charging. tryout with fianti, padi this time. got 67/100.

28 - ate muesli with matcha latte after breakfast. cicil ukmppd. Listened to yoongi's vlive until i fell asleep lol. 2 burger and salad for dinner. omggg hansol revealed his gf.

29 - spent half of my day tidying up the mess that is my room. figured out what to wear for solid book photoshoot with fianti, ara. matcha latte terosss. phd for dinner.

30 - breakfast is muesli with cimory choco hazelnut. mom made matcha chocolate brownies. tryna study. slow pace terosss. read some padi materials. dalbang.

31 - bought vsoy low sugar and multigrain. moved my body a bit to youtube videos. showered. felt better. it also rained (which i love). the pleasant mood only lasted til the evening. did nothing from 7pm even though im not sleepy. cant tell when did i start to sleep

and just like that, 2020 kkeut. its sad to say i dont rly remember much remarkable things this year. other than the trip and memories with minor rotation friends. i just remember wasting my life away in my house. i guess that’s the danger of living a monotone life. sometimes you gotta invest some time to have fun, to have motivation to live on and do things. not doing this makes it difficult to live day by day. and friends. meeting friends, seeing new stuff. that helps me live.

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theprinceandagcd · 5 years

Text

I like my coffee the way I like you

I actually did a long fic and not a random blurb? trust me im just as shocked as you are!!

Summary: basically 8000 words of tooth rotting fluff in a “falling in love at a coffee shop” AU. Words: 8078 also on ao3

“Can I have another one of those pumpkin scones?”

Bellamy glances up at Octavia from his place behind the counter, narrowing his eyes. “I’ll be off soon, and we can get actual dinner, if you want.”

His sister huffs. “That’s another half hour. I’ll never make it.”

She’s being dramatic, and usually, Bellamy would ignore her. But, seeing as how it’s a later afternoon and her soccer practice was cancelled, he knows she’s pretty much stranded here with him and has been for two hours already. Plus, it’s been a slow afternoon. So, rolling his eyes, he slips another pumpkin pastry from the case to his left and puts it on a plate before handing it to her.

“Last one. I can’t just keep taking food, O.” She smiles at him, immediately breaking off a piece of the sweet and plopping into her mouth.

“Mmm,” she hums appreciatively. “I really don’t understand why pumpkin stuff isn’t a thing year-round. It’s a crime against humanity, honestly.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes, but before he can respond, the door opens and a blonde woman enters, head low. She drops off a bookbag with the Arcadia Southern logo sewn onto it into one of their booths in a corner while Octavia turns to him, grinning. “Bet she gets a…” She glances back for a moment and then meets his eyes again. “Medium, iced, nonfat, pumpkin spice latte.”

Bellamy really shouldn’t encourage her. “Whip?”

Octavia considers. “Light whip, extra sprinkles.”

“Very stereotypical, O.”

She shrugs, propping her elbows up on the counter as the girl approaches the register. While she’s looking at the menu, Bellamy takes a moment to look at her. She’s definitely pretty—blue eyes, just past her shoulders wavy blonde hair, short, nice figure. He smiles at her when her eyes meet his, and he recognizes the face of someone who isn’t sure what to get.

“Need help deciding?” he asks, and she purses her lips, glancing back at the menu.

“Maybe,” she murmurs, glancing at him with an eyebrow raised.

“Hot or iced?”

She smiles. “Iced.”

‘You like your coffee extra strong or sweet?”

“On the sweeter side today, I think.”

“Salty sweet your thing?”

Her eyes widen. “Yes, definitely.”

“Sounds like you should do chestnut praline. It’s seasonal, so you should definitely try it while we have it. It’s salty and sweet, and if you get it in a latte it’s really good.”

“You’re good,” she tells him, nodding. “Okay, I’ll get a large of that, please.”

“Want whipped cream?”

Her eyes widen on a grin, and it’s fucking adorable. “Yes, please.”

“What’s the name?”

“Clarke.”

He rings her up and she leans against the counter next to Octavia while he makes the drink.

“I really like your necklace.”

He senses Octavia’s hesitation without being able to see her, but when he glances over his shoulder, Octavia has let Clarke reach out and touch the pendant resting between her collarbones.

“Thank you.” Octavia’s voice is quiet. “It was my mom’s. She, uh, died two years ago.”

“Well, it’s beautiful. It really looks like it was meant to be worn by you.” Clarke’s own tone is soft, and when Bellamy turns back toward the counter, Octavia is smiling widely.

“That’s really sweet of you to say.”

Bellamy finishes up the drink with some whipped cream and the appropriate sprinkles, still trying to decipher the look on Octavia’s face.

When he hands Clarke her drink, she bites down on her lip for just a moment. It’s stupid adorable and kind of hot, somehow at the same time. “Could I see your pen?”

Confused, but curious, he hands it to her. Grinning, she writes an “e” at the end of where he’s written “Clark”, her neat penmanship standing out next to his scrawl. She hands the pen back to him, and his face is suddenly warmer than it really should be.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbles, taking his pen. He hopes his face isn’t as red as it feels.

“It’s no big deal, Bellamy. Now you know for next time.”

“Do you come here a lot?” Octavia pipes up, her eyes bright. He can see the meddling in her expression and mentally wills her not to say anything too crazy.

Clarke glances between them, and he can see the recognition in her eyes of their similarity. She takes a long sip of her drink, humming appreciatively. When she answers, though, she’s looking at him, a small smirk twitching up the corners of her lips. “No, but I might start.”

------

“That girl was cute.” Octavia tosses her bookbag into the back seat of their car, falling almost aggressively into the passenger seat before propping her knees up on the dashboard. Seventeen has been a particularly sassy and aggressive year for her, he thinks. “Plus, she’s your age. I asked before she left.”

“O.” His voice is a warning, but the girl was cute.

“She was cute!” Octavia’s giggle echoes, and he can’t help but smile.

He gives. “She was. Did you manage any other information?”

“Other than the fact that she was staring really hard at a sketchbook the entire time she was there, nope.” She shrugs, already losing interest in the conversation as she pulls out her phone. “Maybe she’ll come back, though. She seemed to like you.”

Now, Bellamy shrugs as he pulls out of the parking lot. “Maybe, but that was probably just because I was giving her caffeine.”

Octavia grins, patting him on the shoulder. “Everyone’s favorite drug dealer.”

------

The next time he sees Clarke, she’s already settled at a table when he clocks in. Her coffee is hot today, probably because there’s still snow on the ground outside from a storm two days ago. She smiles when she sees him, a polite greeting from afar, but then her attention returns to her laptop.

A person in line leaves as soon as they have their order, and within fifteen minutes of him coming in, the couple of girls at a table by the door have left, too.

His coworker, Maya, leaves twenty minutes later.

And then it’s just them.

He shoots a quick text to Octavia, making sure she made it home okay, switches out the coffees, wipes down the countertops, and then glances up at Clarke, who is furrowing her brow at her computer screen. She doesn’t seem to notice him watching her, so he glances around for something else to do.

“That girl was cute” keeps replaying over in his head, and she is, but he really shouldn’t care this much, right?

There’s a nervous pit in his stomach, and it starts to drive him crazy enough that he starts wiping off tables just to have something to do. He keeps looking at the door, almost praying that someone will come in and end his stupid misery, but no one does. Wiping down already clean tables isn’t nearly distracting enough, and he’s hyperaware of her presence just a few feet away.

Get it together, sheesh, he tries to reprimand himself. She’s just a girl, sitting in a coffee shop, probably just working on a school assignment.

It’s not nearly distracting enough, but then he’s cleaning off a table two over from hers when she finally breaks the silence.

“Can I get your opinion on something?”

He’s so grateful that her voice has dispelled some of the tension in his body that he’s probably a bit too chipper when he replies. “Sure, what’s up?”

She turns her computer just enough that he can see the screen, and he squats down beside her to get a better look at it. On the screen, there’s a gorgeous graphic design of a forest, complete with trees and shrubbery, plus a single deer. Somehow, it looks like a watercolor painting, or like a picture of one, but he can still tell that it’s animation.

“That looks awesome,” he says honestly, and when she doesn’t respond, he turns his head to look at her. He regrets it when he sees she’s chewing on her bottom lip with her eyebrows furrowed, staring intently at this graphic like it’s going to spontaneously burst into flames. It’s an adorable expression, and he kind of wants to kiss it off of her, too.

“It just feels like it’s missing something,” she finally murmurs, tilting her head as if that’s all she needs to discover the answer she’s looking for. Her brow furrows even deeper, however.

He turns his head back to it to focus on something else, because the stirring in his chest is scaring him. Still, he wants to help, so he considers the lush forest, the bright leaves, the stark colors of the entire piece. “Maybe… Maybe not everything should be alive. Forests aren’t usually so… perfect?”

“So, it’s not quite realistic enough.”

“Maybe?” He shrugs. “I’m not an art person, though, so I’m not sure if I would listen to me.”

She turns her head to smirk at him. “Yeah? What kind of person are you?”

It takes him a little by surprise, her interest in him completely unexpected.

“I like history,” he replies, and he really expects her to scrunch up her nose at it like most girls do, but she raises an eyebrow.

“That’s pretty broad, Bellamy. What history in particular gets you all excited?”

“Uh.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Like… ancient Rome, Greece. Classics.”

“Nice. So have you ever been to Rome or Greece?”

“Uh, no. I want to, someday, for sure. Both are on my bucket list.”

She nods, considering. “I hope you get to, someday. I do mostly graphic design, by the way, but I like to draw, too.”

His knees are starting to get stiff, so he stands and moves to sit in the chair on the other side of the table. “I saw your sketchpad the other day when you came in. Do you usually turn your drawings into graphics, or are they different?”

“It depends.” She considers her computer for a moment, and then turns back to him, lips pursed. “Do you wanna see my sketchpad?”

He nods, and she gets it out, handing it too him with her eyes downcast. It takes him a moment to flip through it, seeing mostly nature scenes, forests and various bodies of water. Eventually, he comes across some of people.

There’s one of a boy with a big smile and dark hair. “Boyfriend?” he asks, trying to sound casual.

Clarke laughs. “No, that’s Wells. He’s like… my best friend, I guess. We’re basically siblings. There is a few of my exes on the next page, though.”

He flips to the next drawing, seeing a girl with long hair. On the opposite page, there’s a boy with long dark hair, smirking.

“Who are they?”

She glances down at the pictures. “Finn, my first boyfriend from high school. Absolutely a terrible boyfriend, but he wasn’t so bad overall, I guess. And then Lexa, my first girlfriend, who I dated my first semester in college. She was… somehow one of the best things and worst things that ever happened to me.”

He nods, handing the sketchpad back to her. She slides it into her bookbag.

“Where is your sister today?”

“Octavia?” he asks, immediately feeling stupid. Duh, Octavia. “She’s home. She’s seventeen, so she’s old enough to be home by herself. Sometimes she just chooses to come here when I’m working if she doesn’t have anything else to do.”

“Just the two of you, then?”

He knows the question underlying this one, but with her, it doesn’t make him want to grimace. Instead, he smiles. “Yeah, just us against the world.”

“It’s sweet, she clearly loves you a lot.” Clarke focuses her eyes back on her computer, as if she knows that the statement makes Bellamy’s throat close up just a bit, his eyes stinging for a moment. He blinks quickly, taking a slow breath.

“When our mom first died and I decided that I’d take on the responsibility for Octavia, it felt like a punishment. But… I don’t think I would have done anything differently, if I had the chance.” He shrugs, unsure of why he’s even saying so much. “It’s how we were meant to be, I think.”

“Does it still feel like a punishment?” she asks, her eyes finding his again.

He considers, but only briefly. “No, not anymore.”

Clarke smiles, her expression soft. “I don’t have any siblings. I think Wells is the closest I’ve ever had, but I’ve always thought having one would be nice.”

Bellamy gives her a half shrug. “Even with my lack of regrets for the last few years, O can be pretty annoying sometimes. You can borrow her any time you want.”

He isn’t sure what possesses him to say something like that, but then Clarke laughs, her eyes bright and the sound echoing in his head, and he doesn’t really care.

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks,” she says when she’s composed herself, glancing again at her computer. She clicks a few things, then turns it back toward him. “Is this better?”

She’s added a single dead tree, lying flat on the ground in front of the original image. While he’s looking, she clicks a few more buttons and the colors seem to adjust slightly.

“I think add a few more touches like that, and you’ll have a winner.” He smirks at her, and she grins back. “Is this for a project?”

“Yes. I draw a lot of nature scenes, so you think I would be good at it. I still second guess myself a lot though and I can always get better, so I appreciate your help.”

“Couldn’t you just… walk outside and draw what you see?” he asks, and she pauses, considering.

“I guess I could. It just… wouldn’t feel as authentic?” She shrugs. “I like coming up with my own images.”

“It looks like you’re doing a great job,” he tells her honestly, watching as she continues to add changes. She smiles, still focused on her computer for the moment.

“Thank you, Bellamy.” Her brow suddenly furrows, and she looks around the coffee shop. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to keep you from you work.”

He doesn’t tell her that she’s the best distraction from work he’s ever had, that she’s the first girl that’s made him feel like this in more than six months and he would spend hours talking to her if he could. He doesn’t tell her that talking to her is as easy as breathing, and that it amazes him as much as it scares him. Instead, he just smiles. “There isn’t anything to do, trust me. So, what other changes are we making?”

And that’s what they do, until the sun has long gone down. A few people filter in for coffee, but none of them stay, so he always puts himself right back in front of her, asking for what changes she’s made and letting her bounce ideas off of him. It isn’t until thirty minutes before closing that he finally stands and stretches, shooting her an apologetic smile. “I have to start closing up, but you’re still welcome to stay until I’m done. I don’t want to interrupt your genius.”

She shoots him a playful glare, but her smile breaks it after only a moment. “I’ll find a stopping point soon and be out of your hair.”

He’s just throwing out the last of the brewed coffee when she walks up to the counter, bag slung over her shoulder. “Thanks for your help, again. Is it usually this slow on Mondays?”

“After about four? Yeah. It’s the slowest night of the week, usually.”

She nods, tilting her head at him. “Cool. Maybe I’ll have to make this a weekly thing, then. I got a lot of work done.”

He returns her grin, walking around the counter to start putting chairs on top of tables. Suddenly, a thought occurs to him. “Did you drive here? It’s pretty dark, and I’m not sure how far away you live. I could… uh, take you home, if you want.”

Her grip on her bag tightens just a bit. “I… I took the bus this morning, to campus.”

Sensing her hesitation, he puts up his hands for a moment, moving to put up the last two chairs. “I don’t want to intrude or do any of the terrible things you’re probably thinking about. I just figured I could make sure you get home safe.”

She meets his eyes and seems to scrutinize him for a long moment. He waits until she sighs, nodding. A little bit of color touches her cheeks. “It’s not that I think you’ll do anything. I just… I just live at home still and… my mom can be… I’m not sure if I want to go home.”

His chest squeezes when tears start pooling in her eyes. He takes a step toward her almost automatically, pausing only when he remembers that he doesn’t really know her at all. But right now, she’s a girl crying in his coffee shop about merely the idea of going home, and ultimately, he can’t help himself. His heart reaches out to her regardless. He closes the distance between them, slow enough that she could stop him if she wanted to. Wrapping his arms around her, he gently pulls her into his chest.

A choked sob escapes her throat, and then she’s holding him back, palms resting on his shoulder blades. He waits, lets her take comfort from his embrace, moving his thumb back and forth on the small of her back. He has the sudden urge to tell her that she can stay with him, that he’ll take her wherever she wants, do whatever she needs to ease the pain he can sense radiating off of her.

“You wanna tell me about it?” he whispers after a moment, giving her a little smile when she looks up at him.

“I feel like you’ll judge me if I do. My mom is Abigail Griffin.”

There’s a brief and immediate reaction to the name of their city’s biggest politician, if he’s being honest. He wonders, for a moment, what her daughter would be doing hanging out at a cheap coffee shop when she could probably go anywhere she wanted to. He also has enough time to kick himself for not realizing that sooner, considering he knew Senator Griffin had a daughter named Clarke.

But the girl crying in his arms seems so far removed from anything he would expect from that type of family.

She speaks again before his thoughts can go any further. “For what it’s worth, though, I never see her, and when I do, she’s usually judging me for pursuing an art degree and threatening to not pay for my school anymore.”

He nods, still rubbing small circles into her back, beginning to wonder if he should let her go. She takes care of that for him, taking a step back so that she can look at him better. His arms fall uselessly to his sides, and he tucks his hands into his pockets. She wipes at her eyes, clearing the tears there and looking at him.

She isn’t wrong. It would be easy to write her off as a spoiled rich kid complaining about how her home is the worst, but his heart is tugging almost painfully in his chest for this girl he hardly knows. Her eyes are still shining a bit with unshed tears. “My offer still stands, Clarke, regardless of who your family is. I can take you to a friend’s or something.”

It takes her a moment, but she eventually nods her head. “Okay.”

Once they’re in his car, she puts her hands in her lap, fiddling with her fingers. She gives him an address in a quiet voice, which he puts into his phone and then sets in his lap. He focuses behind him as he backs out, glancing over at her once they’re on the road.

“The radio doesn’t really work most of the time, so if you want to talk or rant, I’m pretty good at listening.”

She nods once, taking a shaky breath.

And she does. She tells him about her dad, who died a when she was ten, in a car accident. She tells him how her mom has been somehow overbearing and absent at the same time ever since. She tells him about how her dad always encouraged her to draw and create things, but her mom never understood why she loved it so much. She tells him how she’s pretty sure her mom is waiting for her to give up the art pathway and pursue something more “worthy”. She tells him that she’s afraid if she doesn’t change paths soon, her mom will stop paying for her to go to school.

She talks until he pulls up beside a small house, and he immediately knows it isn’t hers. He wants to ask, but she answers without him having to.

“This is Wells’ place.” He thinks she’s looking right through him. “I have a key.”

He gets out when she does, walking around to the passenger side of the car and standing in front of her. She glances at the dark windows of the house in front of them, lips pursed, before turning back to him.

“Thanks for the ride, Bellamy. For everything else, too.” She sounds so sad, so defeated, and before he even realizes it, he’s hugging her again, wrapping his arms around her and holding tight. She clings to him almost immediately, her face pressed into his chest.

“I don’t know much about you, but… “ He hesitates, knowing how crazy he probably sounds. “You don’t deserve to be ridiculed for pursuing what you’re passionate about, and I’m sorry you have to deal with that. Anyway, I work every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday night. You’re welcome any time, if you need someone to talk to, or rant to, or critique your work, whatever you need.”

She leans back just enough to look up at him, her eyes a little brighter as she smirks. Relief settles in his stomach at the sight, undoing the knots that had taken residence there. “It’s a public place, I’m pretty sure I’m welcome without your permission.”

He chuckles, reaching up to wipe away a stray tear from her jaw before he can stop himself. “You know what I mean, princess.”

Her eyes narrow, but she’s smiling for the first time in a while, so he takes it as a win. “I resent that nickname.”

“I think for that reason alone, I have to keep using it,” he tells her, suddenly aware that his hands are still wrapped around her back, hers still on his chest. She’s so close, so warm, he suddenly finds himself unable to say anything, too caught up in how she feels pressed into him. She seems to sense his shift, her eyes boring into his own with an understanding that scares him.

A smile tugs up one corner of her mouth, but she steps back, releasing him. “Thank you again, for everything. I’ll, uh, see you soon?”

He smiles. “I hope so, princess.”

She rolls her eyes, turning to walk toward the house. He watches from in front of his car as she unlocks the door, waits until she’s given him one more smile and is safely inside before getting back in his car and starting the drive home.

When he gets there, he sits in his car for a moment, trying to calm his racing heart. Even so, Octavia raises her eyebrows at him as soon as he walks in the door.

“Did you get laid?”

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “Inappropriate, O.”

“Answer the question, B.” She sits up, expectant.

“No,” he answers simply, shooting her a glare. He feels a little bad when that makes her frown.

“You just… seem really happy. I haven’t seen you look like this in a while.” She shrugs, sulking into the couch cushions. “It’s nice,” she adds quietly, almost as an afterthought.

Guilt rushes through him, and he sits down beside her. She stays silent, her hands in her lap. “I don’t want you to… overthink this, got it?”

When he looks over, a little bit of light has returned to her eyes as she nods. “Okay.”

“The girl from the coffee shop last week, Clarke? She spent all night at the coffee shop, we talked a lot, and I drove her… home.” He pauses, considering his words. “I think I like her, a lot.”

Octavia puts her hand over her mouth, but it does little to hide her grin. Bellamy rolls his eyes, shoving lightly at her shoulder. “I said don’t make a big deal about it.”

“I’m not,” she says, her voice muffled by her hand. Taking a deep breath, she moves it from her face. “I think that’s great. Liking someone again is a very important step in moving on from an ex.”

His stomach twists at the thought of Gina, but he knows Octavia is right. This is a good thing, no matter what happens. Pushing any negative ideations aside, he smirks at his sister. “I told her she could borrow you if she wanted an annoying sibling.”

Octavia’s mouth pops open in mock insult, but he can still tell she’s thrilled. She gives up the façade quickly, grinning. “I wouldn’t mind that, she seemed nice.”

He smiles, pressing his lips together in an attempt to contain it. “She is.”

------

Bellamy spends the next two days thinking of her, wanting desperately to see her again. Still, he’s almost surprised when she comes in on Wednesday afternoon, smiling widely at him. He can’t help grinning back, watching as she saunters up to the counter, her eyes on the menu.

“You seem chipper today,” he observes, and her smile widens.

“I had a good day,” she tells him. “Let me get a cold brew today, light on the cream.”

“Got a big project due?” he asks as he rings her up and starts pouring her drink.

“Kind of. I need to do some animation stuff. I know how, but it can be tedious, so I definitely need the caffeine.”

He smiles, handing her drink to her. She doesn’t immediately take it and go back to her seat, so he leans against the counter. “I’m glad to see you in a good mood, Clarke.”

A little bit of color touches her cheeks as she picks up her cup, but the corners of her mouth tug up regardless. “I might have been looking forward to seeing you again.”

Bellamy pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, but he knows it does little to hide his grin. “I’ll come over when I get chances, in case you need company or someone to run ideas by.”

She nods. “I think I’d really like that, thanks.”

He does go sit with her every once in a while, sitting down right beside her and trying not to feel like a high school kid every time their knees brush under the table.

“So what do you want to do with art, once you’re done with school?” he asks around 7:30, when the crowd has tapered off to nothing. Everything is as clean as he can get it before closing, so he has the time to talk to her.

She purses her lips as she clicks a button and watches her few frames of animation play out. Then, she glances at him. “Last summer, I helped paint the walls of a library. The library had seen some rough times, and no one ever visited it really. The owners were friends of my dad’s before he died, and they asked if I’d help them, so of course I agreed. They let me attend the grand reveal, and I got to see all these little kids faces light up at the images I’d created and…”

“That’s amazing,” he tells her, purposefully moving his leg to bump against hers. “So is that kind of what you want to do?”

“If I can, yeah.” Clarke smiles, the expression a little shy. “It was just so rewarding, doing something like that. The library has more traffic now, too. I don’t want to be some famous artist, I don’t think. I just want to create art that makes people happy. And still make a living, I guess.”

“I think you’re already doing a pretty good job of the first part,” he says after a moment, shifting just a little closer to look at the cartoon characters that she’s animated and brought to life within the last hour and a half. “I think passion for things like that is half the battle.”

She smiles. “So what about you?”

“I always wanted to teach, probably history, like I mentioned before. But… our mom died at the end of my sophomore year, so I dropped out. I figured I’d at least get Octavia through high school first, and then maybe go back and finish things up.”

“I can definitely see you being a teacher,” Clarke tells him, steadily clicking away on her laptop.

“Is that a good thing?”

She looks at him, nodding, though a little color touches her cheeks. “Yeah, just your… I don’t know. Your gentleness and charisma would make a good teacher.”

They’re sitting shoulder to shoulder now, the shop quiet other than the soft music playing from the speakers. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

That night, he takes her to Wells’ place again, and she smiles widely at him before she gets out of the car, thanking him for his help.

He just smiles, unable to tell her, in the moment, that maybe she’s helping him, too.

------

When she comes in on Friday, she sits at the booth that is quickly becoming hers, orders an iced tea, and waits until the five o’clock rush has died down before gesturing at him to come to her.

He glances at the two customers in the corner, who have empty drinks but also seem well invested in whatever they’re talking about. So, he strolls over and sits on the edge of the seat next to her. “What’s up, princess?”

She smiles a little shyly, reaching into her bookbag for a large piece of paper, slightly bigger than computer paper. She holds it to herself for a moment, where he can’t see the image on the other side. “I, uh, I did something for you.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

When she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, he almost gets too distracted to notice when she starts to turn the paper around. But then he’s staring at a sketch with minimal coloring, that clearly depicts himself standing in front of the Colosseum, in Rome. His jaw drops as he reaches forward to take the paper from her, amazed at the details that she’s included.

“It’s my way of saying thanks, I guess. For listening to me, and for all of your help.” She shrugs a little. “I figured you could keep this one, until you can get a real one, at least.”

“I…” He struggles for a moment to find words, eyes flying back and forth between the page and her eyes. “Thank you, I love it.”

Holding the paper with one hand, he wraps the other around her shoulder to pull her against him. “You’re welcome,” she murmurs into his neck, her own arm winding around his waist. It takes him a minute to let her go, still shocked that she would do something so sweet for him.

They spend the rest of his free time for the night talking about the places in Rome he would want to see, with her sitting sideways in the booth, her back against the wall and her feet pressed against his thigh. She listens the entire time, never once seeming bored or exasperated.

And then he takes her to Wells again once he’s closed, and she reaches across the center console of the car to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. It takes him by surprise, warmth filling him immediately, but by the time he’s recovered, she’s already out of the car, waving at him from the porch before slipping inside. He has his hand against his cheek the entire drive home, trying to remember what that all too brief contact felt like. Octavia grins at him when he walks in, but otherwise, she doesn’t react to what he’s sure is a dumbfounded look on his face.

That’s good, though. He isn’t even sure what he would say if she asked.

------

Bellamy spends the next week wishing he had gotten Clarke’s phone number, because that’s how long it is before the bell above the door dings and it’s her walking in. She smiles when she sees him, and he can’t help grinning, too.

He almost forgets about Octavia sitting across the counter from him, but then she slaps at his shoulder unnecessarily, her grin too big for her face. He shoots her a look that begs her to behave, but she just smiles, twining her fingers together on the countertop.

Clarke plops her bag down in her booth, and then strides up to the counter, smiling at Octavia before pursing her lips at the menu. He waits, watching as her eyes travel over it and different expressions color her features. It shouldn’t be this fascinating, watching someone decide what to order, but he can’t look away.

Even when she catches him, raising her eyebrows when her gaze meets his, a stroke of bravery hits him and he continues to stare back, giving her a smirk. She certainly doesn’t seem to mind, if the smile and blush creeping up her neck is any indication.

“Anything look good?” he asks after another moment, and she skims her eyes over him, slow enough that he knows he was meant to notice.

“Maybe,” she muses, glancing back at the menu one more time. Octavia makes a noise that almost sounds like a scoff, but she covers it up by pretending she accidentally inhaled some of her hot chocolate. Clarke doesn’t seem to notice. “But for now, I’ll just do a hot coffee, maybe with some of your pumpkin flavor in it?”

“If you’re getting the pumpkin,” he says, already grabbing a cup to write on for her. “You have to get some cinnamon, too. It’s an unspoken rule.”

“I wouldn’t want to break any rules.” Clarke rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning at him. Besides, when she takes the first sip of the drink, her eyes widen. “Wow.”

“What did I tell you?”

“I’m just going to start letting you pick all of my drinks,” she tells him, but she narrows her eyes at the cup where he’s written her name. “Princess” is written on the cup in big block letters. She meets his gaze, purposefully rolling her eyes. She turns her attention to Octavia, her smile softening. “I was told I could possibly borrow you?”

Octavia lights up, nodding. “Sure, I need a break from Bell sometimes, too.”

“Thanks, O.”

Clarke looks between them, smiling. “In that case, you wanna come sit with me? I might could use your opinion on some of my art projects.”

Octavia winds up sitting next to Clarke in the booth for the rest of the evening. He isn’t sure how much his sister is actually helping, but Clarke seems to enjoy her company. He joins them when he can, sitting across from Clarke at the table and realizing with aching clarity how much affection he already feels for her.

She’s being so incredibly patient with his sister while she asks a million questions about college, life, Clarke’s art, without ever brushing her off. She simply bumps her foot against his playfully once as he sits across from her, and it makes him grin like an idiot for a solid thirty minutes. And still, for whatever reason, he finds himself drawn to her, listening intently while they trade stories—her about her dad and them about their mom. It’s therapeutic, almost, and he’s sure Octavia feels the same way. He finds it endearing, to hear her talk about how her dad was her hero, to understand that his loss must have been tragic for her, as losing their mom was for them. Yet, she still has such a passion, which he can see any time Octavia asks her questions about her designs. The difficulties she’s faced have fueled her instead of discouraging her.

The more the three of them sit there together, the more it feels like it’s where she’s meant to be.

At about 8:45, fifteen minutes before the shop closes, Octavia curls up on the bench opposite of Clarke, using a jacket as a pillow, and falls asleep. Bellamy cleans everything except one last pot of coffee, and then sits down next to Clarke. There is a full, rolling landscape on the screen, and she’s working on the details of a cow with a picture on her phone as a reference when he sits down.

“How’s it coming?”

“Good.” She smiles at him, clicking save and closing the laptop.

“Thanks for putting up with my sister.”

She bumps her knee against his, and he mentally curses his traitorous heart, that nearly jumps out of his chest at the touch. “She’s great, Bellamy. Her enthusiasm is endearing, and she’s extremely smart.”

“Still.” He isn’t sure why he can suddenly feel heat in his neck. “It’s nice for her to have someone… older to talk to, I guess. Someone that isn’t me.”

“I hope you stick around” is what he doesn’t say, what gets stuck in his throat. He wants that, so much that it scares him, both for himself and Octavia. Still, Clarke tilts her head at him, and he feels like she can see right through him.

“Has she not had anyone?”

He sighs, staring at Octavia’s hand where it dangles off the edge of the bench in front of them. “She had Gina, for a little while.”

In the pause, he expects Clarke to say something, ask something. Yet, she stays silent. When he turns to look at her, she’s regarding him carefully, but her expression is open, ready to listen.

“We dated for over a year. At first, she was great. She really felt like everything that O and I needed at the time. I had even…” He hesitates, looking back at Octavia’s hand. “I had even started looking at rings.”

“What happened?” Clarke’s voice is quiet.

“She wasn’t happy, in the end. We broke up six months ago.”

He can feel Clarke contemplating, and in the end, she moves just enough to rest her head on his shoulder, turning toward him just a little and reaching across her body to put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.”

At the same time that tears sting his eyes, her touch is like a lifeline. The pain doesn’t spiral, or wreck him like it normally would. So, he reaches over, puts his hand over hers on his arm and leans his head against hers.

“It’s okay,” he says, brushing his thumb across her knuckles.

“My first boyfriend cheated with me. He had a girlfriend.”

A flash of anger rises in his chest. “What a dick.”

She giggles. “Definitely. I only keep his picture because I really don’t want to tear out pages of my sketchbook and, to be fair, that’s one of my best portraits.”

Bellamy smiles, still stroking her hand. “You need me to take you somewhere? Home? Or Wells’ place?”

“Home is okay, today. Thank you.”

He needs to dump that last pot of coffee, wash the dishes, and put chairs on tables, but still, they sit there for another long moment before he’s able to pull himself away. “I gotta finish closing up, you think you can handle her?” He points at Octavia.

“I think I got it,” she says, shooting him a grin.

While he closes up, she puts the rest of her stuff up. They’re able to get Octavia up long enough to go to the car, but she quickly falls back asleep in the back seat. When they pull up outside of Clarke’s house, Clarke hesitates. After a moment, she reaches into her backpack and pulls out a small folded piece of paper, handing it to him.

“This… Um, it’s for both of you. Octavia, if she ever needs someone to talk to that isn’t you, and for you… just… if you want it.”

He glances down at the piece of paper, smiling when he realizes it’s her phone number. Surprised at her uncertainty, he makes a show of pulling out his phone to save her number immediately. “I definitely wanted this,” he says, hitting save and then tucking the piece of paper in his pocket. “And I’m sure O will appreciate it, too. I know I do.”

She grins, the cutest amount of color touching her cheeks. “Good, I, uh, I wanted you to have it.”

After another moment of consideration, she slides a little closer, stretching across the console to put her hand around his neck and press a kiss to his cheek. He moves before he’s even processed what’s happened, reaching up to wrap his hand around her wrist. She makes no moves to pull away, and when she turns her head to look at him, he can’t really help it.

He kisses her, the briefest press of his lips against hers. And Clarke smiles, the biggest grin he thinks he’s ever seen on her features. “I guess I should have given you my number a while ago.”

“Maybe,” he murmurs, capturing her mouth again, more firmly this time. She kisses him back, tugging lightly at his hair. It’s only when he remembers that Octavia is in the back seat that he lets her go, pressing his forehead to hers for a moment.

“What are you doing to me?” he asks in a whisper, eyes still closed. She brushes her thumb against his jaw, and even that simple touch has his heart beating even faster.

“I don’t know,” she answers, and when he opens his eyes, she’s pursing her lips at him. “Is it okay?”

“Definitely,” he answers easily, giving her lips one more quick peck. “Definitely okay.”

“Okay.” She smiles, and as soon as she’s pulled away, he misses her touch. She grabs her bag, looking back at him with her hand on the door handle. “I’ll see you Monday?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, princess.”

She narrows her eyes, but her grin gives her away as she gets out and heads up the sidewalk to her front door. Once she’s safely inside, he pulls away from the curb, glancing in his rearview mirror to see Octavia sitting up. Her eyes meet his, and she smiles.

“I didn’t hear anything.”

He knows she’s lying, but he can’t find it in himself to be even slightly upset. “Whatever, O. Here.” He pulls Clarke’s number out of his pocket and hands it to her.

She works on entering the number into her phone, and then she crawls up into the front seat while Bellamy stops at the end of the street. “So she’s sticking around, I guess?”

He swallows, glancing both ways for something else to focus on other than Octavia’s gaze. “I really hope so.”

Octavia doesn’t respond for a moment, probably still half asleep. “Good, I really like her. She seems good for you.”

Her words surprise him a little, and by the time he’s thought of something to say in return, Octavia has laid back down, her eyes closed. Tears prick his vision for reasons he can’t explain, and he takes a deep breath to try to reign them in.

“Yeah,” he muses, swallowing. “I think so, too.”

------

It’s a week later when Clarke comes in looking extremely pensive, and he can tell she’s got something on her mind. She’s distracted when she orders, goes to her booth without saying much else. The lines of her face go back and forth between sad and angry, and she winds up taking it out on a sketchpad for the majority of the evening.

So, when he’s closing up, he finishes up quickly and then goes to sit in front of her. She starts a little, glancing around. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. I’ll go.”

“Hey.” She stops, meeting his eyes. On an impulse, he reaches over to put his hand on top of hers, squeezing gently. “What’s up?”

Tears shine in her eyes, and her mouth opens as if she’ll respond a few times, but she never does. It aches deep in his chest, and he wants to know what’s wrong so he can fix it. Still, he can sense that she’s panicking, so he stands, reaching out a hand. “Come here, dance with me.”

The shock of his request seems to dry her eyes for the moment, and she takes his hand so that he can pull her to the middle of the coffee shop and press their bodies close. The music over the speakers is quiet, and more elevator music than anything, but it works. They sway back and forth, and after a moment, she relaxes, pressing her face against his chest. Her grip on his hand is tight, and he waits, holding her close and resting his head on top of hers.

“My mom kicked me out.”

“Ah,” he says, understanding immediately. His next question is easy. “Do you need somewhere to stay?”

She hesitates. “I could stay with Wells. I mean, my mom can find me there pretty easy and his place is kind of small, but it’s an option.”

He smiles, knowing the question that she doesn’t want to ask, that she’s afraid to ask. “Or you could come stay with me and O.”

She lifts her head to look at him. “Yeah?”

How can she not know how deep he already is?

“Clarke.” He reaches up with the hand that was holding hers, cupping her cheek in his palm. “Look, I spent more than six months alone because I couldn’t get over my ex. Then, you happened. Honestly, it scares me a little how easy it was to fall for you, but I’m not going to question it. You’re just… good. For me, for Octavia. She’s just as smitten with you as I am, trust me. Whatever you need, we’re here for you.”

A few tears slip down her cheeks as she reaches up to kiss him, pressing close. He can taste the saltiness of her tears on her lips, and he just holds tighter, tangling his fingers in her hair and willing the broken pieces of her back together.

She’s already done it for him, after all.

“Thank you,” she whispers against his mouth, and he smiles, pressing his forehead against hers.

“Anything for you, princess,” he says, and he means it with everything inside him. With a sudden, aching clarity, he feels as if he’s holding his entire world, like this girl standing in front of him is it for him. Overwhelmed, he just kisses her again, until his smile breaks it.

She grins up at him, fingers still playing with his hair. “I love this coffee shop.”

He can’t help himself—he laughs, sure that he looks and sounds foolish, but he doesn’t really care. Not when she’s looking at him like that. “I think it loves you, too.”

------

It’s a week later, curled up next to her in his bed on a Saturday morning, that he tells her he loves her, pressing the words into her hair. He doesn’t freak out about how it’s too soon, or worry that she’ll run at the words.

She doesn’t. She just smiles, shifting even closer to him so that she can kiss him, whisper the words back to him as easily as if she were saying her own name.

“I love you, too.”

That afternoon, she picks up the sketch of him in front of the Colosseum and spends an hour penciling herself beside him. When she presents it to him, she shrugs a little. “I figure we could maybe go together.”

And he grins, reaching forward to kiss her until his body begs for air. Pulling away, he whispers against her lips, “As if I’d ever go without you, princess.”

#the 100 #bellarke #bellarke ff #bellarke fanfiction #my writing #ao3 #fanfiction

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turtle-steverogers · 5 years

Note

sksjsksk okay idk if you write sprace but uhhh i'm in the mood for a race-gets-super-drunk/high-and-runs-into-spot-onthestreet-and-things-get-Gay typa fic If you don't do sprace then ralbert is good too bc theyre both adorable uwu

bro heck yeah i write sprace we STAN sprace

i GOTCHU high bois is my BRAND

warnings: w e e d

ship: sprace

word count: 1073 heh

high coffee dates

Race smiled broadly, his eyes blissed out as he took another long drag from the blunt he was nursing. Albert sat loosely in front of him, limbs drooping heavily as he hazily scanned the city, eyes bloodshot and happy. They’d been in a little alcove in Central Park for a while, steadily smoking their way through separate blunts and becoming one with the white noise that surrounded them.

Race particularly enjoyed afternoons such as these. Minutes seeping by with zero obligations- responsibilities getting lost in the smoke. It was therapeutic in a sense and he was comfortable enough with Albert that he didn’t feel the need to interact with him entirely while they were in each other’s company. They could just exist simultaneously and be content.

Race inhaled another lungful, brain hazing out even more. Everything around him had a dull quality, the shapes of the world less sharp than usual. He blearily rubbed at his eyes, but nothing seemed to right itself. Wow. He was really high.

“Hey, uh,” Albert leaned forward, his hand landing off-center on Race’s knee, “I’m tired and shit, so I think I’ma call it a thick day, okay?”

Race scrunched his eyes shut as a laugh bubbled in his chest, “Thick with two Cs?”

“Thiccccc,” Albert drawled, “Thick with all the Cs, man.”

They laughed heartily, heads thrown back in joy.

“Okay, man,” Race said, clambering to his feet and haphazardly helping Albert up before clapping him on the back, “I’ll catch ya, later.”

Albert nodded, patting his cheek and chuckling, “Byeeeee.” He saluted lazily, then turned and staggered off in the direction of his apartment complex, leaving Race to venture the opposite way, towards his.

He walked for several blocks, eyes unfocused as he faintly observed the world around him, smiling serenely. But as he continued to walk, he became aware of how utterly confused he was. Where was his apartment complex again? What street was he even on?

He was too far gone to let the panic that distantly gripped his stomach to manifest. But he was aware that he wasn’t in a good situation, so he stopped walking, pausing to look at the area surrounding him.

Nothing was recognizable. Fuck.

“Yo, man, you okay?”

A new voice cut into the blur of his consciousness, pulling him out of his head slightly and into the moment. He turned with wide eyes and found himself looking down at a shorter man with an impossibly sharp jawline and gleaming brown eyes.

Race heard himself giggle, “Fuck no, man, I’m lost as shit and you’re hot as shit.”

Subconsciously, he was aware that he might have just put himself in immense danger by calling the guy hot, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The guy didn’t seem to mind. Instead, his eyebrows flew to his hairline, an amused smirk finding its way to his lips.

“And you’re stoned as shit,” The guy countered, “are you lost?”

Race stared at him for a moment longer before turning his head slowly to look around, hiis current predicament returning, “Oh, yeah,” he slurred, “I am.”

The guy seemed to be holding back laughter, “Do you have someone you can call? Want me to get an Uber for you or something?”

Race fixed his gaze back on the guy, “Who’re you? Why are you so hot?” he asked, ignoring the guy’s question.

“I’m Spot,” Spot said, reaching out and gently pulling Race out of the ongoing crowd of people swarming the streets, “And I could ask you the same question.”

Race’s eyes widened, “Fuck me, bro. Literally, take my ass and fuck me.”

Spot’s expression turned into one of alarm and he huffed out a bemused laugh, “Maybe sometime when you’re not high and you know what you’re agreeing to.”

Race shook his head, admiration and awe etched on his face, “Hot and consensual. What more could I want?”

“Okay, buddy, we really needa find a safe way to get you home.” Spot said, seriously, although he was still smiling, “Can I see your phone? What’s your name, by the way?”

“Uh, Race,” Race said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his phone, using his fingerprint to click into it before handing it to Spot, who took it and pulled up Race’s contacts.

“Okay,” he said, eyes narrowing in focus as he fiddled with the phone for a moment.

His fingers were flying across the screen and Race frowned, “What’re you doing?”

“Hm?” Spot sounded distracted, “Oh, you’ll see,” he typed for another moment before he looked expectantly as Race, “There, done. Anyway, who can I call? On favorites I see a ‘Jack’, an ‘Elmer’, and an ‘Albert’.”

Race took a moment to process the words, before he blurted a loud, “Jack!” out.

“Alright, give me one moment.” Spot tapped on Jack’s contact and held the phone up to his ear, communicating the situation briefly to Jack before thanking him and hanging up, “He’ll be over at that Starbucks in twenty,” Spot concluded, pointing across the street, “For now, wanna wait in there?”

Race’s eyes lit up, “Hell yeah, bro, I love Starbucks!”

Spot laughed, already beginning to lead him across the street, “Alright, c’mon.”

They entered the Starbucks and Spot lead Race to the booth that ran along the wall opposite of the cash registers. Race watched as he strolled to the counter to order coffees, and a cake-pop upon Race’s rising munchie request, for the two of them.

“Does this count as a first date?” Race giggled, pulling his iced caramel latte and chocolate cake pop towards his body, taking a long sip from the straw.

“Nothing counts ‘til you’re sober,” Spot said, taking a sip of his own drink, “but I put my number in your phone earlier, so if you were to want to have a first date…”

“Ah fuck yeah!” Race whooped as Jack walked in. He turned excitedly to Jack, who had approached the table, “I got a hot guys number, Jackie!”

Jack bit the inside of his cheek, eyebrows raising, “Wow, okay,” he turned to Spot, “Thanks for taking care of him, man, that was really cool of you. He’s pretty stupid when he’s high.”

Spot shook his head, “It’s no problem. Really.”

Race stood and turned to look down at Spot, “I will call you, my sweets, I promise.”

Spot and Jack laughed loudly.

“I’ll be looking forward to it, buttercup.”

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag, bros i GOTCHU

TAG LIST: @bencookisagod@we-dont-sell-papes@suddenly-im-respecsable

@aw-jus-let-em-try

@well-the-kids-do-too@spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @felix-loves-albert-and-ralbert@axolotlwhizzy

@andthewoildwillknow@the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog@sunshine-e-cigarettes

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#newsies #racetrack higgins #newsies fic #albert dasilva #spot conlon #chaotic boys #sprace

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neonlights92 · 6 years

Text

MY GIRL

Simply put, Im Jaebum was a fuck boy. Granted, he was your fuck boy. But you'd never deluded yourself. He wasn't going to wait for you. He wasn't going to turn around one day and realise that the girl he's been sleeping with since freshman year was the love of his life. He enjoyed his freedom too much. And for three years, the glimpses of intimacy he gave you were enough. It was pathetic maybe, and sad. But it was the truth. It didn't matter that he only called you when he was drunk or horny or a combination of both. It didn't matter that he never stayed after you were finished. It didn't even matter that he slept with other girls, girls you had to see around campus and even share some classes with. It didn't matter because you were hopelessly in love with him, and you were willing to swallow your pride if it meant you could have him to yourself for just a few hours a week. That was until he met your best friend Yuri. And suddenly all the wounds you had been trying so desperately to stitch up reopened. “She's hot.” Jaebum told you matter of factly, his eyes scanning Yuri’s slender figure shamelessly, “Why haven't you introduced us before?” Your heart cracked right down the middle. “Yah!” Jaebum’s roommate Bambam shoved his friend unceremoniously, “Don't be so rude Jae.” “It's okay,” You answered, desperately trying to appear nonchalant, “She's studying to be a doctor. She doesn't get much time off.” You were sat at your university's cafe, and Yuri was ordering drinks for your table. She was beautiful. Far more beautiful than yourself. You'd known this for a long time. It had never really bothered you before. But then again, you'd never loved someone the way you loved Jaebum before. “Well damn. She coming to the party tonight?” “I'm not sure… She's not really into partying.” The words stuck to your throat like molasses. “There's no way you're keeping that,” Jaebum pointed at Yuri decisively, “All locked up.” “Seriously Jae. Do you have to be so rude in front of Y/N?” Bambam rolled his eyes and gave you a sympathetic smile. You'd never explicitly admitted your feelings for Jaebum to anyone, but Bambam was far more intuitive than most people gave him credit for. “You don’t mind, do you Y/N?” Jae sent you one of his dazzling smiles, “I can’t help it that I have an eye for beauty.” You shook your head and looked away, “It’s fine.” Bambam frowned at you but you ignored him. What could you do? You were never going to tell Jaebum how you felt, so it wasn’t fair of you to stop him from looking at other girls. Even if said other girl was your best friend. “I couldn’t remember if you wanted a vanilla latte or just a normal one, so I got you both,” Yuri said as she approached your table and handed Jaebum two drinks, “I hope you don’t mind.” He returned her smile flirtatiously, “Who am I to deny a drink from such a beautiful lady?” Yuri seemed to be enjoying the attention Jaebum had been giving her from the moment you’d introduced them to each other. You had expected it to happen, in all honesty. She didn’t know about the way you felt for Jaebum. Hell, she didn’t even know the two of you had been sleeping together. But when you were getting ready for the party at your dorm later on that evening and all she ould talk about was how hot Jaebum was, it just slipped out. “We’ve been sleeping together.” She raised a dark brow, “What?” “Jaebum and I,” You told her quietly, “I’ve been sleeping with him since freshman year.” Yuri seemed shocked by your admission. You didn’t blame her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You shrugged, looking away from her and fixing your hair in the mirror, “It didn’t seem like a big deal.” “Not a big deal?” Yuri grabbed your shoulders, turning you around to face her, “Are you kidding? Y/N he’s gorgeous!” Your face flushed, “I know.” She studied you for a moment before her eyes softened. “You like him.” You wanted to deny it, but you knew you couldn’t. You sighed heavily, and felt the tears that had been building since this afternoon claw their way up your throat. “Yes.” You answered miserably. She shook her head, “Why do you look so sad about it?” “Because he’s not - he’s not like that.” “Like what?” “The kind of guy who… You know - commits.” You felt your heart wilt in your chest. It had been three years of this. “Have you told him how you feel?” “Why would I do that?” You scoffed, “It would ruin everything.” Your best friend smiled at you sadly, her eyes understanding. She grabbed your hand and placed it in her lap, watching you carefully. “If you keep this up you’re never going to be happy, Y/N,” She told you seriously, “You can’t sleep with someone you’re in love with if they’re not going to return your feelings.” You knew she was right. You always knew the reason you’d never told anyone about your feelings for Jaebum was because the moment you did, you were going to have to confront the harsh reality of the situation. That you were in love with someone who seemed incapable of loving you back. “Can we just forget about this for tonight please?” You asked desperately, wanting nothing more than to swallow everything you’d just said, “I can’t think about all that right now.” Yuri nodded almost painfully, and you felt your heart shatter into a thousand pieces. Why was everything so complicated? -- The party was in full swing when Yuri and yourself showed up later on that night. As soon as you walked into the foyer, Jaebum greeted you with a wide smile. Your heart turned in your chest at the sight of him. He was wearing black jeans and a simple t-shirt but he still looked so good. How was that fair? “Ladies! You made it.” Yuri nodded, “I’m going to go make myself a drink. Y/N, do you want anything?” “Whatever you’re having,” You told her quickly, trying to ignore the meaningful look she was giving you. Jaebum watched as your friend walked away, before turning back towards you. “That dress,” He groaned, “She looks so good.” Your throat closed up again. You knew this was the kind of person Jaebum was. Still, it hurt. “I know.” You words were quiet and bitter, and Jaebum gave you a look at your tone. “Hey,” His own voice lowered, “You know I’m just messing around, right?” You tilted your chin upwards and forced yourself to look at him. Jaebum’s eyes were soft and serious. “No you're not.” You told him decisively, “It's obvious how badly you want to fuck her.” The words tasted like acid on your tongue. Jaebum frowned, “Y/N….” This was what it was always like. You never spoke explicitly about feelings or exclusivity. Jaebum had always expected you to just accept the way he wanted things to be. “It's just weird that the guy I'm sleeping with wants to fuck my best friend.” You rolled your eyes, “That's all.” Jaebum’s brow furrowed, “So now I'm just the guy you're sleeping with?” “That's all you got from that?” “No I'm just - I'm sorry. I thought you were okay with me kidding around,” He tugged a hand through his hair, “I wasn't actually going to try anything with her.” “Jae please. I wasn't born yesterday.” “Y/N… seriously. I wasn't,” He shrugged, “I know I'm an asshole but I wouldn't cross that line.” “You sleep with other girls all the time,” You told him matter of factly, “Why is this any different?” His eyes widened. You knew that perhaps you were taking this too far. That if you carried on this way, he was going to see right through you. But the way he'd looked at Yuri, following her figure seductively, had driven you crazy. He was meant to be yours, damn it. “Is that what this is all about?” He quirked a thick brow, “You're pissed because I sleep with other girls?” Your chest tightened. How could he be that oblivious? “Forget it Jaebum.” You turned away from him sharply, shrugging out of his grasp when he tried to pull you back and making your way into the kitchen. Yuri was leaning against the marble countertop flirting with Jaebum’s friend Mark. She smiled when she saw you but stiffened when she noticed the look on your face. “I'm going home.” You told her quickly, “Stay, have fun. Ring me when you're done and I'll come pick you up.” Yuri’s eyes narrowed, “What happened?” You shook your head and glanced at Mark quickly. “I'm just not in the mood for it, that's all. But please stay Yuri. If you need me to pick you up later I will.” Your best friend seemed torn. “I want to be alone,” You said, not caring if Mark heard, “Really.” She nodded reluctantly and pulled you in for a hug, “I'll cut his balls off.” She whispered in your ear and you snorted. “See you later Yuri,” You smiled at Mark, “Bye.” With that you stepped outside and ignored the drunk people littering the front yard of Jaebum’s frat house. A few people tried to rope you into playing a game of beer pong but you politely declined, turning down the street and making your way back to your dorm. Why was it like this? Why did Jaebum have to control your emotions without even realising it? How could he not see after three years of intimacy that you wanted more? You wanted him so badly. It hurt more than anything. You knew it wasn't entirely fair of you. But what did that matter? He'd broken your heart so many times but you always let him get away with it. And you were scared that this was how it was always going to be. That until the day Jaebum finally found someone he loved he would string you along. You were frightened because you knew you'd let him. As you unlocked the door to your dorm room you felt the tears well up behind your eyes. Your roommate was out, thank God, so you let the tears fall freely. You had to end this. One way or another. You couldn't keep this up. It was cracking your heart right down the middle. You were pulling your hair up into a ponytail when there was a brisk knock at your door. You rolled your eyes. That was probably your roommate. She'd gone out partying and forgotten her keys again. A second knock came and you groaned. “I'm coming, I'm coming.” You headed for the door and swung it open, your heart catching in your chest when you saw who was waiting on the other side. Jaebum’s eyes were dark and stormy and he looked angry. “What are you-” He stepped inside, nudging you out of the way and slamming the door closed behind him. “Why do you care if I sleep with other girls?” He growled, his tongue peeking out to swipe at his bottom lip. “Huh?” He rolled his eyes, “Why do you care if I sleep with other girls Y/N?” “I don't,” You denied unconvincingly. “Don't lie to to me,” He stepped towards you and you felt yourself shrink back, “I'm not going to ask you again. Why do you care?” There was a moment of thick silence. You watched as his eyes roved your face carefully and you swallowed thickly. “Because I like you.” The words were quiet and brittle. You were afraid you might start crying again, but at this point you couldn't stop yourself. Jaebum’s eyes softened. “What did you say?” Your heart was beating against your chest so roughly. He hadn't walked away. Was that a good sign? “I like you Jaebum.” You repeated the words, not caring about pretenses anymore. You were sick and tired of lying, “I've liked you since the first night I met you.” “Fuck.” He breathed out. This was it. He was going to push you away. He was going to berate you for allowing yourself to fall for him. He was going to remind you that he'd never promised you anything besides sex. “You're a fucking idiot.” You sighed heavily and felt the tears brush past your eyelashes, “I know okay Jaebum? It's not your fault. You never gave me the wrong impression I just-” “Shut up.” His hands came to cup your cheeks, “I don't sleep with other girls Y/N. I haven't done it since Sophomore year. And do you want to know why?” You thought your heart was going to fall out of your chest, “What?” “I stopped sleeping with other girls because try as I might I couldn't get you out of my head,” He rolled his eyes, “I'm shit at this. But you make it easier for me.” When you didn't reply he pressed a soft kiss to your mouth before leaning his forehead against your own. “What I am trying to say is that I like you too, Y/N.” You stared at him, eyes wide. “You… like me?” He pulled away from you slightly and you almost whined at the loss of his touch. He quirked a dark brow. “Why are you saying that like it's impossible to believe?” “I just - I didn't think you felt that way about me,” You bit your bottom lip, “Besides you're always going on about how commitment is for wimps and how much you love your freedom.” He carded a hand through his thick hair, “I do love my freedom. And you're right commitment is for wimps,” He shrugged nonchalantly, “But as long as I get to be with you those things don't matter to me anymore.” Your head felt like it was spinning, “You want to be with me?” He rolled his eyes, “No. I ran all the way here in the middle of my own party to tell you that I like you, for fun. Of course I want to be with you Y/N.” “So then… Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” You blushed hotly an Jaebum smirked, stepping towards you again. “Y/F/N,” He began his voice softer than you'd ever heard it, “Will you do me the absolute honour of grabbing me by the balls and potentially turning me into a wimp?” When you smacked his chest he caught your hand and kissed the inside of your wrist. Your heart fluttered at the intimate moment and he looked up at you, eyes warm and gentle. “Be my girl?” You threw yourself into his arms and pressed a hot kiss against his lips. “Always.” And you lived happily ever after. Or something like that, anyway. --

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