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peace-coast-island · 2 months

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Diary of a Junebug

A light shower of spring rain for the sprigs of lavender lotuses and night sorrel

The Misty Range Woodlands is a planet, though many see it as a giant greenhouse - and they’re not wrong. It’s home to all kinds of rare and unusual plants that seem to only exist here, and so great care is taken to ensure that they remain as bountiful as ever.

Not surprisingly, it’s one of those places where you have to make reservations far in advance in order to visit. Thankfully, I have connections, so we got a good deal on one of their resorts thanks to the Epiphany since they’re here on a mission. What I didn’t expect was to also run into Jamie, Aislinn, and the Linnea squad, so that was nice. Jamie had been hoping to meet up with the Epiphany crew, especially since she hadn’t met Meiying and Hongxia in person yet.

As for why we’re all here, it’s to take a hands-on class on how to take care of lavender lotuses and night sorrel. Not too long ago, those two plants have been discovered outside of the Misty Range Woodlands, most which are native to those areas but were considered unknown until recently. And it turns out that there’s some growing near the camp, which is a pretty big deal.

Even if it wasn’t required, I still would’ve signed up for this class out of curiosity if someone suggested it to me. I think it’s fun to take random classes to learn something new without the pressure of having to be good or worry about grades - sometimes you’re just curious and want to try something out because it looks interesting.

Who knows, maybe you’ll find yourself enjoying the experience far more than you expected, which then leads you to wanting to take a deeper dive into it. That’s how I got into things like mechanical keyboard building, which I knew nothing about until I got one of my own and wanted to customize it after seeing a bunch of pretty and aesthetic pics on social media. Sometimes you just see something that looks pretty and you’re like I want that.

But really, making your workspace pretty while still functional helps a lot with your productivity. I mean, who wouldn’t want a nice looking desk that sparks joy when you look at it? Why must everything look so plain under the guise of professionalism? What’s wrong with having some color or design to show a bit of personality and make things a bit more visually interesting?

Maybe it’s just me, but having a mechanical keyboard makes me more motivated to get work done. They’re just so satisfying to type with, especially with the right key caps that look and sound nice - basically, it’s a sensory thing. A flat keyboard just doesn’t hit the same anymore.

Anyway, so learning about lavender lotuses and night sorrel’s kinda like that in terms of starting out with little to no knowledge about it, to now wanting to take a deep dive after learning a bit about the basics. I’m no plant expert by any means - I know a lot of people who deserve that title far more, though expert doesn’t begin to scratch the surface of their expertise - but I have picked up a lot of interesting tidbits over the years.

It helps to know someone who’s not only well versed, but also passionate about the subject. I find that they’re the ones who are more than happy to talk about it, teach about it, and just share their enthusiasm in general. Meiying and Nabil are two plant experts - though for very different reasons/fields - who easily fall into that category, so it’s no surprise that people often turn to them for advice.

In fact, Meiying was invited as a guest lecturer for this course since night sorrel - and moon sorrel, which is kinda related/under the same plant family - is native to Qiangshou. Both are used for its medicinal qualities related to improving sleep and reducing headaches induced by stress and anxiety. Along with having studied the plants extensively, Meiying also has firsthand experience on the medicinal effects. Over there, they use it in herbal teas, usually one whole sprig if taken before bed, or a handful of petals if taken for headaches.

Now that I think about it, I do remember seeing some night sorrel growing along the Crimson Maple River - she even pointed it out to us along with a million other unique plants that grow there. There were even a few sprigs hanging on one of the windows of her place, probably something they usually have on hand when needed.

So that was fun learning about, as well as a much needed break from an informative, though just as interesting, series of classes. Plus, Meiying’s good at explaining things as well as keeping the audience engaged, even when she sometimes goes off tangents, which I think adds to the charm.

Even though she never intended to be a lecturer, people back at home just assumed she’d be good at it because she knows so much about topics that most would consider niche - not to mention how clearly and thoroughly she explains things. Her first go at teaching a class kinda came out of nowhere - personal recommendations, one which happened to come from Hongxia’s sister-in-law.

What was the subject? Sex education. Because a lot of adults are lacking in that, which isn’t really surprising. Why Meiying specifically? Because she gets quite a few customers who are looking for some natural or herbal thing to increase their sex drive. Also, on the opposite end with people trying to suppress their sex drive, and maybe even induce abortions. Then there’s some who think they can treat STDs without having to see a doctor, probably because they’re ashamed and assume they can hide it.

Being an apothecary sure brings a lot of unusual cases, so it’s no wonder that Meiying picked up on a lot of different things. Although her official title’s an apothecary, people have referred to her as a detective, medical assistant, IT person, secretary, pharmacist, teacher, botanist, consultant, just to name a few. Still, even though she’s considered a jack of all trades, she considers herself first and foremost an apothecary, someone who just happens to be fascinated with medicine - not just in terms of treating an ailment, but also the process of making it and the pharmacology behind it.

Seeing Aislinn again was a nice surprise - same for the Linnea Squad too. Aislinn and Jamie are here to visit a friend and the Linnea Squad tagged along at almost the last minute. Basically, there’s shot going down with Linnea’s family, so Jamie’s taking them under her wing again until that drama dies down. Linnea already blocked at least 20 calls since we got here, which is a lot. Like, don’t they have anything better to do than to harass someone who’s not even involved?

She already made her stance clear by standing up against them and she absolutely doesn’t regret her decision. The other members - Florina, Nash, and Shirin - stood with her in solidarity, not just because she’s their leader, but because they had their own reasons for becoming disillusioned with the International Sanguine Watchdogs Army. Many have accused them of biting the hands that fed them, especially since they’re the reason why they’re still alive today, but that’s obviously their way of saving face.

In short, it’s a fucking mess that they’re lucky to get out of relatively unscathed, mainly because Linnea has one sympathetic family member who was willing to put their neck out for them. Linnea’s able to keep in contact with him, which is how she got the heads up about the current situation. She doesn’t know too much about the specifics other than it’s another one of those things that kept being swept under the rug until it piles up and now it’s blowing up in their faces. The older she got, the more she noticed that stuff like that was a regular occurrence, which is very problematic.

However, she did learn something that might be a bit of hopeful news from her adoptive brother Lauge regarding someone the squad assumed was dead. The squad broke ties with the International Sanguine Watchdogs Army for various reasons, and the annihilation - yes, that’s the word they used - of their comrade Altti’s squad along with countless others proved to be the last straw. Linnea and Altti were assigned to work together on an ill fated mission, resulting in him being the only survivor of a failed retreat.

The Linnea Squad barely escaped themselves, and Altti would’ve been killed too if Jet hadn’t insisted on saving him. By then, Linnea and Florina had grown fed up with the higher ups and their questionable decisions. Sure, things can get unpredictable and go from 0 to 100 in the blink of an eye, but straight up sacrificing your own people just to send a message and then playing them up to be martyrs is taking things way too far.

Like, damn, it’s basically an extreme case of if I can’t have this, then no one can. It’s like someone throwing a fit when they lose a game, except instead of flipping the game board, they just bombed the hell out of it. Then they declare it a victory because everyone’s dead, therefore, no one can object. No wonder Linnea and the others bailed out - I too would be like fuck this shit, I’m out, bye.

So for a time, Altti accompanied the Linnea Squad. He initially butted heads with them, mainly because he was older and wasn’t too happy with having to work with a bunch of kids, especially two who technically outranked him. Jet was the one who managed to get him and his squad to cooperate and see them as equals. When the higher ups brushed the tragedy aside like some cold statistic, the Linnea Squad stood in solidarity with Altti when he protested against their indifference. They didn’t expect a domino effect to follow afterwards, though they now know that it was bound to happen eventually.

Then in the span of a few weeks, the Linnea Squad lost three comrades - Altti, Jet, and Gabe. However, Altti didn’t walk out like the other two, and his status remains unknown, but presumed dead. Linnea was warned by her brother that the Sanguine Watchdogs was planning to seize the entire Sanguine Jurisdiction, which meant that the squad had to flee the country if they want to survive. For context, the main city is right in the center, so the closest border is about a 6 hour drive - even longer and more treacherous when you’re most likely traveling on foot most of the time, as well as trying to evade the military.

They were almost at the border when disaster struck, forcing the squad to split up in order to improve their chances of escaping. Linnea and Florina went north, Jet and Gabe east, Altti, Nash, and Shirin west. The westbound group was caught in a crossfire when riots broke out in the surrounding cities, forcing the higher ups to resort to extreme measures similar to what happened with Altti’s squad.

Nash and Shirin got separated and they barely escaped thanks to a civilian who was believed to be the last person who saw Altti before he disappeared in the chaos. As the riots escalated, the guys realized they had to make a difficult decision with Nash insisting that they not leave until they find Altti because it’s what Jet would have done while Shirin felt that they were wasting valuable time, even if he agreed that it wouldn’t be right to leave without him.

In the end, Lauge came in and practically dragged them out of the city despite their protests. He managed to reunite the rest of the squad at the border of Sanguine. Despite the risks, he wanted to see them off since it’ll probably be the last time he’ll ever see them face to face. Of course, the Linnea Squad was reluctant to leave when one of them’s missing, but Lauge told them that there was no turning back. If they refuse, their days will be numbered - no exaggeration, this is what happens when you live in a war zone.

Linnea had no choice but to do as he said, though she made him promise to do whatever he can to find Altti and help him out in any way he can. She says Lauge always keeps his word, which is why he’s the only family member she can trust at this point. A lot of people went missing and are presumed dead, so there’s a high chance that Altti is one of them, as much as she hates to admit it. Even so, he and all the other victims deserved better than to just be some “unfortunate casualty”, a term the army likes to throw around that Linnea’s grown to despise.

So there is finally a bit of hopeful intel coming from Lauge that suggests Altti survived the riots. He had heard some rumors here and there, but it wasn’t until recently when he came across concrete evidence that finally settled that matter. It’s still not much to go on since Altti’s current status remains unknown, but at least they now know that he escaped the riots and retreated south. Lauge plans to search the areas where he might have gone and hopefully uncover more information.

While the squad remains realistic, they really hope that they’ll be able to reunite with Altti. It’s bad enough having Jet and Gabe walk out on them - and that whole thing is just a mess. All Florina can say is that it’s for the best if they keep out of each other’s way, though they can’t keep that up forever. They agree that Jet means well, but he often fails to consider the bigger picture, which they fear will lead to his downfall. It’s still a bit of a sensitive subject for Linnea, but sooner or later, she and Jet will have to face each other and work things out.

The classes have provided a welcome distraction for the Linnea Squad - good thing there were enough open spots to squeeze them in. Nash isn’t certain, but he’s pretty sure he’s seen night sorrel in his hometown, or maybe it was moon sorrel, which looks similar. Meiying and the instructors don’t think he’s mistaken since both flowers have distinctive colors - shades of blue and purple, kinda like a galaxy. Yeah, that’s something that would leave an impression. Even though Nash’s hometown is in ruins and likely occupied by the Sanguine Watchdogs, it’s likely that there might be some night or moon sorrel growing in the ruins, so it’s worth looking into. Looks like getting into the class was meant to be.

Then there’s lavender lotuses, which are native to the Misty Range Woodlands. So far, there’s no known sightings of them outside of the planet. They have many uses - potions, perfumes, vitamin supplements, kombucha, and soups. Along with being a good source of vitamin C, they also help relieve stomachaches and reduce anxiety. While lavender lotus products are relatively common in these parts, they’re pretty much unknown outside of the Arrowroot Orbit - meaning, places like planet Earth. So they’re using this course to introduce the outside world to this otherworldly flower that’s basically their version of a dandelion.

Even though there’s a lot to learn about night sorrel and lavender lotuses, I don’t feel that overwhelmed. I mean, it’s a lot of information, though the hands-on stuff and Meiying’s interlude kept things engaging while also breaking up the monotony of just sitting through a bunch of lectures and video modules.

Read on AO3

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #headcanon ramble #diary of a junebug

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rosesarereds-posts · 1 year

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High School Life

My first day of high school was going to be difficult, but I also knew that you meet new people and can develop friendships that will last a lifetime. I was anxious, curious, and considering how to make new friends in my new classroom as well as my new classmate. You need to get to know new professors who could end up being your life's greatest mentors and your second parents. additionally guide you towards your future. Be amiable toward all teachers as well as other pupils. To get through your first day of high school; Throughout my High School Experience. The first step is to pay attention in class, learn the expectations for the classroom, get to know your teachers, classmates, and other people, and make a great impression. You should also make sure that your teacher is aware of your commitment to dependability, punctuality, and a work ethic. Learn the school's policies, rules, and how to avoid trouble. I have to understand that my education lays the groundwork for my morals and job ethics in the future.

As a student, it's crucial to put up your best effort and work hard. Finding out who you are, what you are capable of, and being respectful of others are all important aspects of high school life. This is because there are so many kids that don't care about others and don't want to be there. Being kind can be quite effective. I am aware that every student, all the way back in high school, has a subject in which we battle, falter, and persevere while learning as a community. Additionally, organize a group activity at school to promote teamwork and teambuilding.

Additionally, you never know what other people are dealing with, so you might just be the inspiration someone else needs to keep going that day. The Golden Rule, which states to "Treat others as you would like to be treated," is the easiest rule to live by. This is significant to me because you wouldn't want to be treated like a lesser person, so it is wrong to treat others that way.

As a result, I began building new relationships with my friends on the first day of high school. Having friends in every class that you can talk to and depend on to work with as a partner, as well as knowing what is expected of you and which peers you can trust, will help you have a fun and successful year. Just be yourself Being your authentic self is crucial at the start of high school. For those who are merely a temporary part of your life, you run the risk of surrendering your ideals and values

#hamjah #hamjah creative non fiction #personal narrative essay

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amistytown · 3 years

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The Brothers Comfort MC During a Panic Attack

This is my first attempt at writing down my headcanons for the brothers, so I apologize if anything is out of character. I meant it to be short and sweet, but it grew out of my control after a while. I’m a perfectionist and wanted to rewrite everything. I made minor edits and am posting it anyway or it’ll sit in my drafts forever; I admit I put the most effort into Lucifer’s, forgive me. Also sorry for the repetitiveness and any typos you may find. I decided to write how the brothers would comfort MC during a panic attack, especially as someone who suffers from anxiety and panic attacks themselves. Honestly, I wrote this as a way to comfort myself since I’ve been dealing with terrible anxiety lately. Of course, everyone experiences anxiety differently, so I can only speak from my own experiences. I didn’t go into detail when it comes to the symptoms themselves because it’s from the point of view of the brothers and only so many are visible to the eye. Trigger warning for depictions of anxiety and panic attacks. Thank you for reading!

LUCIFER

Lucifer is troubled. Following lunch, you disappeared, currently absent from class. This is unlike you, his worry intensifying every minute you’re out of his sight. Yet he maintains his composure, resigning himself to scouring the academy grounds. Time passes at a torturous pace, his thoughts beginning to take a turn for the worst. He contemplates whether to involve his brothers and Lord Diavolo himself at this rate, however the sound of his D.D.D diverts his attention. A wave of relief washes over him at the sight of your name lighting up his screen, chased by frustration at you, your silence, and himself for losing track of you so easily; he couldn’t bear living if anything happened to you under his watch. He expects this behavior from his brothers, not you. Though his heart sinks, the Avatar of Pride uncharacteristically overcome with guilt while he reads your message. Of course, you are not his brothers. He should not have doubted you.

Your texts are apprehensive, a weighty pause between them as you hesitate to lay bare the darkest depths of your soul. He approaches you cautiously, to avoid upsetting you further. Your words alone convey the sheer panic taking possession of you, the last of your strength used to press send. Outside he discovers you, huddled miserably in an isolated corner of the building, swathed in shadow. The desire to shelter you from the world burns within him, but your eyes widen fearfully in his presence, wounding his pride. Immediately, you apologize. Sorry you’re missing class, that you left without telling anyone, and upset him—especially when you’re aware of his busy schedule. You’re sorry for not having the courage to pull yourself together, succumbing to your anxiety, your shame palpable. The hand clutching your D.D.D is trembling, your chest heaving as you struggle to breathe. He aches for you, each tear shed hurting more than the last, your pain managing to touch the very core of his being and set him alight.

If anyone is sorry, it’s him, pride be damned. Kneeling in front of you, he assures you an apology isn’t necessary—your wellbeing of great importance to him. He wants you to rely on him, grateful you confided in him despite your doubts. Hopefully, he can eventually put your mind at ease. His voice low, soothing, he continues to console you, making sure you’re aware he’s not upset, and your feelings are valid. Although he’s not familiar with the inner workings of anxiety itself, he’s willing to listen, learning how to support you to the best of his ability—starting today, providing you’re comfortable accepting his offer. Initially, he prioritized your safety for the sake of the exchange program and Lord Diavolo’s wish to unite the three realms, now it’s merely out of adoration for you, his beloved. Once you’re ready, he’ll let you know you’re not alone. He’s never too busy on your behalf.

Offering you his hand, a smile graces his features as you accept. Slowly, he helps you to your feet, steadying you against him. He notes the way you relax at his touch, shoulders sagging and head coming to rest on his chest. Only you exist in this moment, his gaze not leaving you, not even for a second. Standing in silence until your breathing settles and you regain your balance, he sees you through the height of your attack before escorting you back to the House of Lamentation. He’ll personally excuse you from the remainder of your classes, understanding you need a quiet place to recover. Classical music plays softly in the background of his room, and he’s content to have you in his embrace, drawing you onto his lap after you finish the tea he brewed to calm your nerves. Lucifer pays you special attention, massaging your tired body and kissing you tenderly, his breath fanning across your lips as he reminds you how special you truly are—brave, compassionate, and incredibly loved.

MAMMON

Mammon mourns his loss, wondering how he let them gain the upper hand; admittedly, a foolish mistake on his part. He dreads breaking the news to Lucifer, and the resentment that shows on his brothers’ faces once he confesses does little to ease his mind. Still, he worries about your reaction most of all, knowing his stupidity has put you in a precarious position. In that moment he believes their words—only a greedy scumbag like himself dares to place his human’s happiness on the line. Although certain of his win at the time, he should consider how his actions affect you more often; otherwise, how can he claim he’s the Great Mammon? His confidence is his downfall in the end. Now you’ll suffer along with him. Yet you feign optimism, attempting to soothe everything over despite your innocence. His guilt only grows, a heavy weight on his shoulders. One he deserves.

Three days of waiting on and performing for large crowds at The Fall proves hectic for everyone. He can tell you’re struggling beneath the façade of a composed and hospitable server, going above and beyond to ensure the patrons leave satisfied. Furthermore, you lend him and his brothers a hand, coming to their rescue; it should be him making it as easy on you as possible. His concern for you runs deep, no matter how hard he tries to maintain his usual air of indifference, but you have the nerve to reassure him—it’s meant to be the opposite, dammit. Each night he goes out of his way to check on you, frustrated that you continue to dance around the subject. He can see the exhaustion on your face, hear the slight tremor in your voice, the toll his stupid decision is taking on you, and it stung. You comfort him, even when he’s undeserving, so why won’t you allow him to hold you and kiss the pain away? Not that he’s asked. You should realize by now you can rely on him, right?

Watching you suffer in silence tortures him. He can’t deny it regardless of his best effort to make light of the situation. You barely eat or spend time outside your room, saying you’re tired, which isn’t a lie—working is exhausting, no doubt about it—but he understands you well enough to notice the subtle signs of your anxiety, your smile unable to trick him into believing otherwise. Perhaps you find him as insufferable as his brothers do, or worse, and don’t want to see his face after what he’s done. That doesn’t stop him from showing up at your door, hoping he can offer some form of comfort. However, you keep up appearances, supporting the seven of them during the longest weekend of their lives. You work hard too, his chest swelling with pride as he watches you care for his brothers and customers alike. How can you like an idiot like him? You’re selfless and loving, looking past his flaws to see what lay beneath his sin. His human. His angel. He wants—no needs—you to be okay.

The last day comes and goes in a blur. Finally, he can toss these ridiculous clothes and rabbit ears in the trash and never perform that dance again. Better yet, you’re free of his burden, though the guilt remains. He can’t relax until he’s positive you’re okay, knowing he’s genuinely sorry. Standing outside your room, he tries to muster up the courage to open his heart to you—apologies not his strong suit—when he hears you crying. They’re small, muffled sobs that manage to shake him to his core, blood running cold. Yeah, he should knock, but he can’t control himself, throwing the door open without hesitation and rushing to your side. The sight of your tears is almost too much to bear, and he draws you into his embrace, face heating up at his own moment of vulnerability, but this is about you, not him. He can be strong for you too, telling you everything’s going to be okay, that the Great Mammon is here to help.

After his stupidity, you tell him you were afraid to bother him? He can hardly suppress the shock at your confession, the sadness in your eyes breaking his heart. You wanted to make sure it went smoothly for his sake? You suffer through Hell alone because you chose to put his feelings first? Crazy. Though he thanks you, not completely ashamed to admit he’s touched. However, he tells you that you don’t have to put aside your feelings for his benefit; he prefers to be by your side then know you’re having a rough time on your own. He is your first. Taking the initiative, he asks what he can do to make it up to you, no matter how big or small the request is because he’ll do it in a heartbeat. You opt to stay in his arms, burying your face into his chest, and he wipes away your remaining tears, being as gentle as he possibly can. He can feel how tense your body is, your skin unnaturally warm, and it takes a while until you stop shaking. It’s moments like these he’ll tell you how much you mean to him—that he loves you, okay—and he wants you to come to him for everything. He’ll hold you, taking your hand in his, and kiss you with all the adoration in the world because you’re incredibly important to him. Mammon can attest to that.

LEVIATHAN

Leviathan invites you to his room to play video games, a daily routine the two of you have comfortably fallen into. He loves gaming with you, though on occasion you opt to watch instead, thoroughly enthralled by whatever is on the screen. Miraculously, you enjoy listening to him ramble—whether it’s about the game he’s playing, anime he’s watching, or TSL among other things—genuinely showing interest in his passions; he’s incapable of expressing how truly grateful he is for your company. His heart nearly bursts whenever you compliment him on his gaming prowess, encourage him during a particularly intense battle, or merely tell him how you enjoy hanging out. How in the Devildom did a gross otaku like him get so incredibly lucky? He can hardly believe you love him of all demons. The thought alone sounds crazy lmao.

Unable to contain his excitement, he awaits your arrival that night, ensuring everything is perfect when he hears a knock on the door. However, his smile fades the moment he lays eyes on you, mind beginning to race as he wonders why you look miserable, your gaze trained on your hands. Before he can speak, you apologize, dissolving into tears while you return the game he let you borrow. You’re stuttering, completely winded, and he can barely hear you confess to accidentally corrupting his data in your panic. In fact, he loses track of the number of times you choke out a sorry. He treasures his games, his collection extensive, but he cherishes you most of all. The loss is a minor annoyance, nothing that lessens the feelings he harbors for you. Although difficult, he overcomes his insecurities to show you it’s okay—you’re loved.

Not only are you sad, but you’re also terrified, a part of him wanting to destroy the game itself if it means you never have to experience the pain that torments you now. Regarding you carefully, afraid to make matters worse, he reassures you that he’s not upset—far from it, honestly—and that he cares about you more than any game. No stranger to your panic attacks, he reaches out to take your hand in his, hoping you find comfort in what he has to offer. And when you finally glance up, hope shining in your tear-filled eyes, he can’t help but wrap you in his arms. A warmth spreads across his face, heart pounding in his ears, but he knows you need him, allowing his body to relax around yours.

Holding you against him, he tells you everything’s all right, stuttering out how he loves you and, most importantly, wants to you to feel better. Your arms circle around his waist, causing his heart to jump into his throat, but he only pulls you closer. You’re his Henry, and what friend is he if you can’t rely on him? Leviathan is understanding, wanting you to come to him for support at your most vulnerable. Now he puts his knowledge to the test, easing you into his room with continuous words of affirmation. You always know how to console him at his lowest, and he hopes he can return the favor. If anyone deserves to feel loved it’s you, who brought joy into his otherwise bleak world, and he’ll sit with you every day and night if you need him to.

SATAN

Satan knows he shouldn’t be awake, though he finds it difficult to satiate his curiosity as he peruses the books lining his shelves. He barely registers the sound of his D.D.D, reluctant to put the book aside to see who’s messaging him at this ungodly hour; Asmodeus most likely. His tune changes after he sees your name lighting up his screen, his annoyance replaced with worry. He knows you struggle, especially at night, but he can tell you’re hesitant to reach out. Nevertheless, you gradually begin to confide in him, his patience limitless if you’re concerned, and he feels a sense of relief that you choose to trust him at your most vulnerable instead of suffering on your own. Pouring over every book he can locate on anxiety, he studies it religiously, engraining each page into his memory. Not by giving unsolicited advice—he doesn’t want to make that mistake twice—but by comforting you the best he can, even if it simply means to stay by your side, waiting for the panic to pass.

A second later, he appears at your door, gaze softening as your eyes meet. In the darkness of your room, he can tell how exhausted you are. You apologize for bothering him, particularly this late, but he dismisses you with a shake of his head and a reassuring smile, sitting beside you on the bed. It saddens him that you feel the need to, but he’s familiar enough with anxiety by now that he understands how much of a manipulative monster it truly is; if only he can destroy it with his own two hands, strangling the life out of it so it no longer taints that innocent soul of yours. To watch you struggle fills him with a rage that he forces deep within himself, fully aware anger isn’t the answer no matter how great his desire to protect you is. So, he cups your face in his hands, your skin warm beneath his fingers as he strokes your flushed cheeks and presses your foreheads together.

Focus on him, he tells you, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and his voice while he whispers words of love and encouragement. He never tires of letting you know how beautiful and strong you are, that he’s always here for you and loves you—all of you. You unravel in his arms, opening your heart up to him, and he listens intently, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips the moment you look uncertain. You’re not a burden he promises, hoping one day you’ll believe it yourself, but he’ll remind you every chance he gets; forever if he must. It’s worth it in the end, when you relax against him and smile, kissing him in return. Slowly, the anxiety leaves your body, Satan thankful that the waves of panic have receded enough to let you rest your weary mind. He remains next to you, pulling you down to lay your head on his chest and closing your hand in his, entwining your fingers. He’s content here with you, watching you fall asleep and chasing away the nightmares.

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus loves shopping, but he loves shopping with you most of all. The day is bright with you by his side, and he can’t help but buy you clothes and matching accessories to bring out your inherent charm. Your potential is endless, and he gushes over how gorgeous you are, unable to contain his excitement when your cheeks turn a beautiful shade of pink in return. He can hardly control himself around you, gaze fixated on your every movement and heart racing each time you flash him one of the sweetest smiles he’s ever seen; your very soul seeming to shine through and blind him. Nothing prepares him for the love he feels for you, but he considers it a welcome surprise, his desire to grow closer to you intensifying day after day. You captivate him, the Avatar of Lust of all demons. What an exciting turn of events!

Of course, he attracts attention wherever he goes, posing for pictures with adoring fans and basking in the compliments constantly thrown his way; nothing new, but he enjoys it, nonetheless. Who can resist the allure of his very presence? However, anger wells within him at the sight of you being shoved to the side, falling to the ground and lost to the crowd that has gathered. Their words of flattery fall on deaf ears as he rushes to you, throwing a heated glance at the lowly demon who dares to touch his darling human. He desires nothing more than to punish them for such an injustice, but the fear in your eyes tells him otherwise. By the time he scoops you up into his arms you’re trembling from head to toe, and he can feel your heart pounding against him. A part of him places the blame on himself, an unfamiliar feeling, but he chooses to ignore it for now, focusing on getting you home in your worsening state.

In the peace and quiet of his room, he sits you on the bed, wrapping you in his arms as he affectionately runs his fingers through your hair. He can tell you’re upset—in an absolute state of panic by the looks of it—and all he can do is hold you through it, quietly asking what you need and willing to answer your every beck and call if it means that adorable smile graces your features once more. For a moment he considers seeking out Lucifer, worried something has gone terribly wrong, but thankfully you find your voice, mumbling into his chest about anxiety and panic attacks, that you’ll be fine—eventually—and are sorry for ruining your date. He doesn’t understand completely, though he knows you need him, promising to stay by your side for as long as you want. Kissing your cheek, he assures you there’s no need to apologize to him, your safety more important than anything else; the demon who laid his hands on you won’t go without punishment either.

Admitting a bath helps calm you down, he prepares one for you, steam rising from the surface and the heady scent of roses filling the air. Together you slip into the water, enveloped by its warmth, and he hums in contentment as you lean into him, his arms coming to rest around your waist. He watches you carefully, making sure you’re able to relax and preparing himself in case you call on him; he’ll do anything for you if it brings you the happiness you deserve. Your eyes flutter close, Asmodeus showering you with delicate kisses, comforted by the fact your breathing has levelled out and you appear a lot calmer than before. The day didn’t go as planned, and he hopes to make it up to you, vowing that no one else will hurt you on his watch. He loves himself. He loves his brothers. But loves you most of all.

BEELZEBUB

Beelzebub notices you haven’t touched your dinner and is beyond happy the moment you offer your plate to him. Yet he can’t bring himself to enjoy the food in front of him while you excuse yourself from the table, eyes downcast and voice quiet, the usual smile gone from your face and leaving behind an emptiness that rivals his own hunger. His mouth waters at the thought of seconds, but his concern for you grows, and he decides to follow you without question, disregarding the ravenous growl of his stomach. He catches you in the hallway, calling out your name. You turn to him, his brow furrowing in unease at the sight of your tears and the slight tremble of your lip. It hurts him to see you in obvious distress, and he earnestly offers his support.

The only sound is that of your sobbing. He desperately wishes to hold you tightly and rid you of your pain. However, he falters, studying you. Your gaze is trained on the floor, shoulders stiff with tension, and the color drains from your cheeks. When you speak, he’s surprised by how helpless you sound and the fact you’re trying to reassure him, putting his needs above your own although you’re struggling to hold yourself together. Fear flickers across your features at the echo of the brothers’ voices travelling up the stairs, and he mumbles out an apology as he carefully lifts you into his arms, cradling you to his chest.

Before the others can round the corner, he hurries down the hall and slips into your room, determined to protect his vulnerable human. He notices you relax against him, your fingers curling into his shirt, and he can’t help but want to keep you close, relieved after you lean in closer to wrap your arms around his neck. Stroking your hair, he allows you to cry, his patience and love for you endless. Eventually, you mutter an embarrassed sorry, thanking him profusely, but he’s merely relieved you’re beginning to feel a bit better, reassuring you that you can always depend on him.

Listening to you intently, he never breaks eye contact. You open up to him about your anxiety, his stomach twisting as you describe what you call a panic attack and how it wrecks you both mentally and physically. Beelzebub knows he has a lot to learn, but he expresses interest in understanding anxiety and, most importantly, how he can help you, so you don’t suffer alone. For the rest of the night, he keeps you company and eases you through the remainder of your attack, giving you plenty of hugs and rubbing your back in soothing circles until you no longer shake, and your heartbeat returns to its usual pace.

BELPHEGOR

Belphegor enjoys the time you spend together, especially when the two of you are alone. He asks you to accompany him in the attic, and it’s not long before he curls around you, falling into a peaceful sleep as he listens to the steady beat of your heart. However, when he awakes it’s to the sound of your soft cries in the dark, which fill him with a fear he can’t seem to shake. Without hesitation he’s at your side, sitting up to softly place a hand on your shoulder and ask you what’s wrong. The sadness in your eyes as you glance up at him, tears staining your cheeks, tugs at his heartstrings. He can’t bear to see you upset.

Once he realizes you’re having a panic attack, he’s attentive to your needs, cradling you in his arms as you cry into his chest. You confided in him about your struggles with anxiety after you fell to pieces in front of him months ago. A part of him understands, the loss of Lilith haunting him throughout the years and instilling a similar feeling of unease within him, especially when his nightmares seem to blur the line between reality and the painful memories of his past. You always came to his rescue and now it’s his turn to comfort you in your time of need. Sleep can wait.

With you in his embrace, he brings you down to relax against the pillows, pulling the blanket around your shivering form. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he gently brushes the remaining tears from your face, whispering words of love and reassurance. He listens to you when you’re comfortable to talk, the slight tremble of your voice causing him to draw you closer and press a kiss to your forehead. Belphegor tells you he’s here for you—forever—and although he’s still learning about anxiety and finding the best ways to comfort you during an attack, he wants you to depend on him no matter what. Even if that means you wake him up in the middle of the night. He won’t rest until he knows you’re okay, and you’re peacefully sleeping in his arms.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me mc #obey me reader #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #my writing

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ptergwen · 3 years

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smoke and mirrors

⇢ richkid!tom x richkid!reader ⇠

w/c: 4.1k

warnings: swearing, drinking, light angst, and implied smut

summary: because of your mother’s insistence on a pristine family image and tom’s messy one, you deny your true feelings for him

a/n: ok ok ok the pics of tom in monaco really made me think and i had to get everything out of my system so here we are! thank you and enjoy x

your living room is engulfed by a hushed chatter that comes from far too many guests. half the people, you hardly know. it’s overcrowded, superficial, and the last place you want to be. it’s one of your mother’s get-togethers, as she likes to call them. these things are always far from the casual affairs they sound like.

weeks go into planning, caterers and decorators making themselves at home in yours. the family’s image is everything to your mom, so being a good hostess is her top priority. ironically, she’s more concerned with throwing her gatherings than raising you. so much for family, huh?

the only reason you agreed to make an appearance tonight is that tom might do the same. he’s a really good friend, someone you’ve been able to count on through all the mess that is your lives. you met in high school, when he moved from london to the states. his dad was offered a job promotion he couldn’t pass up. plus, tom and his brothers would be receiving a stellar private education here in america.

it was a win for everyone, especially you. the freckle faced boy who got lost on his way to english class became your closest confidant. tom’s company is such a sweet escape. he’s not interested in opera or the stock market like most people you meet are. he sneaks you out to go on walks at dawn and does shots with you until you can’t stand straight.

as you two continue to grow together, revelations about yourselves have come to light. what you want beyond your inheritances, who you want beyond friendship. you figured out the second part on a faithful night recently. tom showed up to your place with a bottle of tequila. after you drank it down through lots of lime chasers and giggles, he kissed you. you didn’t kiss back.

your heart said to go for it, but your mind pulled you back in. you were so shocked and overcome with new feelings, you froze up. that, and you’d infuriate your mother. although she cares about tom a great deal, she loathes his public figure. he’s always getting papped in places and with people he shouldn’t be. the two of you together would just destroy her.

you still want to please your mom at the end of the day, no matter how deep under your skin she gets.

tom immediately apologized and tried play it off as him being drunk. you grew up with him, became part of each other’s families, which means you know him well enough to know he was lying. he meant every second his lips were on yours.

what you need to do now is something you’ve meant to for a while. the only problem is that you’re stuck at your mother’s party, and tom hasn’t shown up yet.

“y/n, darling,” your mom calls for your attention. she’s dragged you into a conversation with some bloggers, but you haven’t spoken a word. “why don’t you tell us about your trip to spain last summer?” she plasters on her award winning grin and squeezes your shoulder. it’s time to play along.

“oh, it was beautiful,” you halfheartedly reply, more to the bloggers than her. they nod in clear interest. one jots down notes. “we went for a few weeks and visited a bunch of different cities. i’d love to go back sometime.” the typical press formatted answer earns your mom’s approval. you’re off the hook. your eyes start to wander around the room, hoping to set on tom.

“we?” the woman taking notes asks. must everyone pry? “my friend and i,” you shortly reply. you’re standing up on your tiptoes to see over the crowd. you’d think six inch heels would do the trick. “i’m actually looking for him right now, so if you’ll excuse me,” you offer a polite smile and silently pray they won’t ask who. unfortunately, your wishes don’t come true.

the other blogger, a short and stubborn man, speaks up. “just a friend you say? come on, tell us. who’s the lucky fella?” he inquires. your mother raises a firm eyebrow, signaling for you not to.

tom has a reputation for his reckless behavior. it’s your mom’s worst nightmare when the media associates your names under most circumstances. you’re representing her, so she does whatever she can to control how you’re seen. you’re constantly in the papers, being a young socialite and all. it sucks.

“he’d like to stay out of the tabloids, sorry,” you cover for tom, on your mom’s behalf. “i should really go. it was nice meeting you.” the bloggers don’t bother to hide their disappointment as you shake their hands. your mother rubs your back in approval. “thank you for doing that. we’ll talk later,” she speaks lowly. “bye, mom!” you practically make a run for it.

weaving through the sea of people, you end up by the main entrance. it’s hard not to get lost even though it’s your house. the place is packed with girls just a couple years older than you, wearing pearls around their necks. men’s strong colognes flow through the air. you’re in a form fitting red slip dress and louboutins yourself.

smoke and mirrors is what they call it. you show the pretty parts to distract from your ugly ones.

harrison suddenly comes waltzing in with a lady on either of his arms. you’d expect nothing less. he’s tom’s best friend besides you, considering the failed kiss attempt didn’t change that. their parents worked at the london branch of the same company. they each came to the states and met you. you happily introduced them to your world, helping to make it theirs as well.

“haz!” you meet him at the front door. he’s smirking while he leads the women inside. “fancy seeing you here, isn’t it?” he jokes. “very funny. i died laughing,” you deadpan, curiously eyeing harrison’s plus two. they merely giggle. “listen, have you seen tom anywhere? if he’s coming.” you’re fighting back a frown. “why wouldn’t he be?” harrison questions in a more serious tone this time.

“long story. you have guests to entertain, so i won’t get into it now,” you decide and manage a small smile instead. he perks up. “right. i’ll let you know if i see him?” nodding, you give him a wave goodbye. “enjoy yourself.” “you too, love. cheers!” the girls lean into him, harrison wiggling his eyebrows at you. he’s ridiculous.

hours pass by without word of tom. it isn’t like him to miss an event, especially if you’re in attendance. you despise these exhausting nights, and he’s supposed to be your rock during them. he should have his arm draped around your shoulders, whispering silly remarks to you while you hide out somewhere. you miss him more than you thought possible.

you’re just about to give up when you spot nikki ushering her husband inside. behind them follows tom, clad in a grey checkered suit with his locks perfectly tousled. he’s here. you waited the whole night, and he finally came.

tom kisses his mom on the cheek before strutting over to the drink table, not without a few reporters hassling him. they’re probably looking for another holland scandal to break. he declines their requests for comments on this and opinions on that, instead pulling up a chair next to harrison. the two exchange hugs and fix themselves glasses of champagne, you watching their encounter.

harrison fills tom in on the drama he’s missed tonight while they sip their drinks. tom keeps forcing smiles that don’t reach his eyes. he’s fiddling with his fingers, leg bouncing up and down steadily. those are the telltale signs he needs saving. however awkward it may be, you’re going to have to break your silence. it was bound to happen eventually.

“mate, i’m telling you. she fit her entire first right up her-“ “boys,” you cut into harrison’s story, greeting him and tom. his face tints deep pink upon your arrival. “don’t let me stop you. finish your charming anecdote,” you encourage him and subtly glance over at tom. he’s biting back a grin as he sets his elbows on the table.

“not with a lady present. let’s just… pretend you didn’t hear that,” harrison chuckles nervously and hops to his feet. “i’m gonna leave you two to chat.” humming, you move to take his chair. tom sucks in a breath. “what happened to the girls you brought?” you wonder. “they left. said they got bored,” harrison admits, tom stifling laughter. he elbows his friend for that.

“oh, fuck off. i’ll see you later,” he mopes, flicking your arm for good measure. tom salutes him and grabs his nearly empty champagne. “so long, bruv.”

it’s just you and tom now, seated side by side, silently so. he has no intentions of speaking first. he’s too embarrassed, and you don’t blame him. this is on you. you clear your throat before starting the conversation.

“can i top you off?” you tap the bottom of his glass with a tiny smile. tom shakes his head. “i’m alright, thanks.” he finishes the last sip and sets it down, turning to face you. your smile has vanished. “wasn’t sure you were gonna make it. i’m glad you did,” you change the subject. as if he’s considering the sincerity behind your words, tom furrows his eyebrows.

“mum wanted us to. she dragged me and dad straight off the golf course,” he explains and clasps his hands in his lap. his fingers interlock with each other. you fight off the urge to replace them with yours. “we would’ve been here sooner, but the paps are camped outside.” the hint of a smile forms on his lips, at last. “guess it’s not often you get the town’s finest under one roof.”

“you think i’m one of the town’s finest?” you tease, resting your chin in your palm. something flashes behind tom’s eyes. he looks right into yours, scooting closer. “absolutely. you’re the most eligible bachelorette in this whole building.” you allow a toothy grin to spread across your face. “tommy, stop it. you’re too nice to me.”

the nickname is music to his ears. tom looks you up and down, licking his lips simultaneously. “no, seriously. you look gorgeous,” he muses, you pushing at his chest. he exhales a breathy laugh, and you giggle yourself. “red’s definitely your color.” “reverse card. you wear it way better than i do,” you insist. your fingers tug at the collar of his suit. “too bad you didn’t match me.”

you’re relieved you two can talk like you usually do, light flirting and good vibes. it might not be so hard to put the kiss behind you. well, you can’t go on pretending it didn’t happen. you have to at least discuss the fiasco. tom should know why you didn’t reciprocate, then you can take it from there. whether he still has feelings for you, assuming he ever did, will depend on how that turns out.

“not to ruin the fun, but we still have to talk,” you murmur, tom’s body stiffening across from yours. he’s not sure he’s ready to discuss that. “can it wait? we’re at a party,” tom reminds you, running a hand through his styled locks. “yeah, my mother’s. don’t tell me you’re having a good time,” you playfully chastise him. he simply shrugs. “hardly. you’re the best part.”

you ignore the butterflies roaming about your body.

“you won’t mind a quick convo, then. it is with me,” you attempt to persuade him and place a hand on his knee. tom coughs a bit too loudly, the contact surprising him. “you know what? i think i’ll take you up on that drink first,” he decides with a mustered up smile. “coming right up.” you pat his leg before taking his glass. he chews on his lower lip while you poor the bubbling liquid. that was certainly… odd.

you slide tom his champagne back with an exaggerated wink. tom scoffs at this. “mm, thanks. care to join me?” he brings the alcohol to his lips, eyes never leaving yours. your mother specifically said no drinking tonight, since the press would be here. screw your mother, though. “please. could you hand me a glass?” you eagerly grab the champagne bottle. tom searches for an empty cup next to him.

you two are unspoken drinking buddies at this point.

“here you are, darling,” tom drawls, holding out the glass for you. every time he calls you that, you completely melt. “thanks, tommy,” you purr in response. you’re finally pouring your own drink when someone taps you on the shoulder, and hard. you look behind you to find your mother standing with her hands on her hips, less than thrilled. speak of the devil.

“hello, mother. can i help you?” you make sure to ask rudely. she responds with a smile that’s obviously fake. if tom weren’t here, you’d be getting scolded. “yes, my darling. those bloggers from earlier were hoping you’d finish your interview.” your mom shakes your shoulder in a motherly way. you squint up at her. “didn’t they leave hours ago-“ “they’re back,” she sharply informs you.

she’s lying, and you have a hunch as to why.

frowning, you hold tom’s hand in both of yours. “sorry, this won’t take long. why don’t you go find tuwaine?” you suggest instead. “he’s around here somewhere.” tom gives you an understanding nod and laces your fingers together, even if it’s only for a moment. “must be chatting up some producers or whatnot. i’ll see if i can help.” he’s such an incredible friend to everyone. he deserves the same from you.

“thomas, so lovely to see you,” your mom interrupts. tom stands up, kissing both her cheeks out of courtesy. “you, too. what a wonderful party. thank you for having us.” despite what the rest of the world believes, his manners are impeccable. “of course. give nikki my best, will you?” your mom puts her hands on his shoulders. he grins at her. “definitely. take care, mrs. y/l/n.” “always a pleasure,” she states, nudging you to come along with her.

you shoot tom one last apologetic look as your mother pulls you along and towards the crowd.

tom is no idiot. he’s well aware how she really feels about him.

when a swarm of guests is surrounding you, your mom lets go. you scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “why would you do that? i haven’t seen tom in days.” she sighs without a care. “isn’t it time you branch out? expand your social circle?” her manicured fingers ruffle your hair. you push away her touch. “i’m social enough. we were in the middle of something really important.”

you begin to walk away, but your mother takes your arm. “whatever you’re about to do, it’s a mistake. he’ll make a fool of you,” she practically spits. yanking your arm from her grasp, you laugh bitterly. “of me, or of the family name? look around, mom.” you gesture to the spot beside her where your dad should be. “as far as i’m concerned, i have no family except tom. i’m gonna go check on him.”

you’re gone before your mom can stop you. she simply stands there, utterly mortified by what you said.

you run around the house to find tom, stumbling in your heels and not giving a fuck. you’d truly meant the part about him being your family. all the holland’s, honestly. they’re the most genuine and caring souls, and you don’t want to lose the one you’re closest to because of your mother’s delusions.

tom is in a circle with harrison and tuwaine, the three of them chuckling amongst themselves. you’d hate to bug him, but this can’t wait anymore.

“uh, tom?” you mumble his name, appearing behind him. he steps away with another quiet laugh. “hey, y/n/n. that was quick, hm?” your face gives away your distress. his whole demeanor shifting, tom reaches for your hands. “what is it, love? is something the matter?” “just… come with me,” you croak out.

you manage to smile at harrison and tuwaine, dropping one of tom’s hands so you can lead him upstairs. they each return the smile and share curious looks.

following behind you, tom keeps your hand tight in his own. he’d thought you were going to grill him about the kiss that barely happened. it seems like this is a much more pressing matter. his outburst of emotions can be discussed another time. now, it’s time to deal with yours.

you drag tom into the first room on the second floor, which is your dad’s study. he’s away on business this weekend, so he luckily couldn’t make the party. tom sits down in the office chair. you sit up on the desk, in front of him. your lip quivers the second his worried features come into view.

“y/n/n, what’s going on? why are we in here?” tom wonders, his tone soft. your heart clenches. “i- i wanted us to have some privacy when i told you this,” you sniffle out and blink back the tears forming. you’re sort of shaken from the conversation with your mother, and mostly because you have no idea how tom will react to your confession.

his hands come to stay on your thighs, right below your dress. they feel warm against your bare skin.

“tell me what? i’m listening, yeah?” tom gazes up at you with so much love. “lay it all out for me.” god, he’s fucking amazing. if only you knew where to start. “do you, um…” you trail off, letting your tears subside and words settle. “do you remember when your family made your big debut in town?”

a grin replaces tom’s frown, painting his beautiful face. “how could i forget? you made it quite memorable.” he traces circles on your thigh and elicits a giggle from you. “i spilled a whole thing of soda on your white fucking button down,” you recount with a lighthearted sigh. “right before your dad was supposed to introduce you to everyone, too.”

tom presses his tongue into his cheek to hold back another grin. “took ages to get it out. dad went mad when i didn’t show.” he cocks his head to the side, you leaning back on your hands. “you held me hostage in the laundry room so you could do that bloody stain stick.” your mouth drops open in mock offense. “i had to clean up my mess! i wasn’t gonna let the world meet you covered in pepsi.”

that was one of your earliest memories together. the holland’s threw a party and invited everyone who was willing to attend. they had been hoping to properly introduce themselves to the town, and this was their way of doing so. although yours and tom’s friendship was fairly new, you spent all night together because you had experience with such events.

tom’s dad was making a speech to thank the guests for coming. you and him listened from the snack table, until his name was called. he rushed to go up there while you were pouring yourself a drink. he’d bumped into you, and the bottle ended up all over him. you snuck tom right off to his laundry room.

you’d felt terrible as he stood there shirtless and blushing, you aggressively swiping his button down with a stain stick.

“why do you bring that up?” tom questions and continues circling your skin. you purse your lips. “i dunno. it was the last party i actually enjoyed,” you admit, putting your hand over his that rests on your thigh. “like to reminisce when i’m suffering through one of my mother’s.” his eyes shift to where your hands are laced. “i see,” he affirms. “so, is that… all you wanted to talk about?” “not even close,” you laugh out.

a burst of courage coursing through your body, you say it. “when you kissed me the other night-“ “i won’t do it again,” tom cuts in, trying to avoid the rejection he thinks you’ll give him. “it was a mistake, and i’m so sorry. our friendship is more important than my feelings.” you seem excited to hear that, though it’s not for the reason tom expects. “you do have feelings for me?”

he’d forgotten about his i was drunk excuse.

“um, yeah. i do,” he admits, cheeks rosy and lip caught in his teeth. “but, i’ll learn to put them aside, if that’s what’s best.” “no, no. it isn’t,” you dismiss him and put your free hand on his chest. “i love you, tom. that’s what i was really trying to tell you.” your words bring an instant grin to his face. he chuckles in disbelief, standing from the chair.

“fuck, thank god. that’s all i’ve ever wanted to hear.” he’s between your legs now, his hands moving up to your hips. you’re beaming at him as your arms snake around his neck. a burning question comes to tom’s mind. “hang on. why didn’t you kiss me back, then?” he almost whispers, thumb brushing over your hipbone. “this is gonna sound weird, but… my mom,” you reluctantly let out.

“you’re gonna have to elaborate,” tom prompts you and raises an eyebrow. you can’t hold back your eye roll. “she’s never been a fan of the person you are in the media.” his lips form a line. “i gathered.” your fingers tangle in his curls at the nape of his neck reassuringly. “i was subconsciously scared i would be letting her down in some way, if we were together.”

tom allows your hands to work their way up to his scalp. he exhales contentedly as you play with his ever so soft hair. “i understand, she’s intimidating. what’s changed that brilliant mind of yours about coming clean?” your nose scrunches up when he pokes one of your temples. “oh, yeah. i yelled at her earlier ‘cuz she stole me away from you.” his face lights up. “sexy.” “shut up,” you groan. “someone had to tell her off.”

“good thing it got to be you,” tom agrees with a squeeze at your hip. “‘m proud of you, y/n/n. it’s not easy, standing up to mummy dearest.” you tug on his hair. “like you’d know. nikki is a saint.” “that’s what she’ll have you believe,” he says under his breath, you gasping. his lips turn up in a smirk. “on that note… i love you, too.”

“would’ve been embarrassing if you didn’t say it back,” you acknowledge with a cheesy smile. tom dips his head down to rest his forehead against yours. “yeah, yeah. save the attitude for your mum.” your legs easily wrap around his waist, tom’s breath hot as it hits your face. “let’s give that kiss another go,” you mewl. he doesn’t hesitate to reply. “with pleasure.”

tom’s lips land on yours, you kissing back right away. he smiles into it as your lips gently move together. “about fucking time,” he grumbles, your hands situating in his chocolate curls once again. he’s savoring every second you touch him, kiss him, love him. the taste of your mouth is one he’s craved for longer than you could imagine.

it doesn’t take long for things to heat up, you messing with tom’s hair and tom rubbing your hips. you lay back on the desk as his tongue enters your mouth. holding you by your waist, tom hovers over you. his tongue tangles with yours in a deep kiss. between that and his fingers beginning to massage your thigh, you’re done for. you’re ready to take this a step further by the time he’s kissing down your neck.

“tommy?” you grab onto his shoulders, your head back. his lips detach from your skin with a grin. “yeah, love? ‘s everything okay?” he coos, pressing a final kiss to your collarbone. “more than.” you tilt his chin up to peck his lips. “you wouldn’t happen to have a condom, would you? just thinking ahead.” he laughs breathlessly, reaching into his suit pocket.

“conveniently enough, i do. not sure your dad would like me fucking you on his desk, though.” tom sets his hand on your leg that’s still hooked around his waist. “my room’s always available. carry me?” you make grabby hands and bat your lashes. he hoists you up by your waist, not lifting you just yet. “that would break the news of us, no? your mum’s gonna go apeshit.” he keeps his arms around you, chuckling.

“let her. besides, i know a couple of bloggers that would love to announce our status update.” you peck tom’s lips, grinning as you do. you’re suddenly in the air and being picked up by tom. the surprise of it makes you squeal, clutching onto his broad shoulders instinctively. he gives you the look of adoration that’s reserved for you only.

“we’ll go pop a few bottles with everyone, then we’re celebrating on our own.”

#tom holland #richkid!tom #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

Taking Chances Chapter Five: Paris Revealed (Stories/Memories)

AO3

Marinette flinches back as the room erupts in shouting. The younger boy, who was definitely younger than her and yet almost (if not definitely) taller than her, was fiercely glaring while he screamed at Mr. Wayne in….was that Arabic? The man that walked in with him was waving around the knife in his hand while Dick yelled at Mr. Wayne, his face filled with confusion instead of fury. Glancing around for a way out, Marinette makes eye contact with Alfred who nods behind him. Sneaking away from the group of angry men, Marinette follows Alfred into the kitchen and instantly feels at home. And much calmer.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles, breathing deeply to avoid spiraling again. Alfred simply hands her a cookie before turning around and putting water in a kettle.

“There is no need to apologize, Miss Marinette. It seems Master Bruce has forgotten all sense today and is instead insistent on acting like a fool. It was wrong of him to announce you like that, without preparing you or the boys beforehand. I do hope that his atrocious display of proper manners doesn’t make you want to leave.” Alfred says, and Marinette’s eyebrows shoot upwards. Was he? Was Alfred actually blaming this situation on Mr. Wayne? Was it Mr. Wayne’s fault? Did he not actually hate her? Did he just make a mistake?

“I- what?” Marinette says, unsure of herself.

“You, my dear, are not at fault. Your father didn’t tell any of his sons that you were coming to the manor today, or that you existed in general. And judging by your face, you weren’t prepared for the boys to be here either.” Alfred clarifies.

“Oh. No, I wasn’t. Mr. Wayne just said that he wanted to get to know me, and he knew I wanted to get to know him. I- my birth mother passed away. But my Maman knew her, so I can find out from her how I’m similar to Bridgette. But neither of my parents knew Mr. Wayne, and I just wanted to know if I was like him, I guess. I didn’t even know who he was until two days ago.” Marinette admits.

“As in you found out Bruce Wayne was your birth father two days ago or-” Alfred trails off, waiting for her to clarify.

“Oh no. I found out the name of my birth father awhile ago. It’s just- I really don’t pay attention to celebrities. The only ones I really know are designers. So I didn’t put two and two together, and I didn’t even know about Bruce Wayne and Wayne Enterprises until a few days ago. My friend Adrien made me google him and that’s when I found out about...the boys.” She says, stopping herself from saying her brothers as she was still unsure if Mr. Wayne actually wanted her like he wanted the others.

“Well I’m certain that things will start to calm down shortly. In the meantime, would you care for some tea?” Alfred asks, holding up the kettle. Marinette nods gratefully, trying hard to stop her inner spiral from drowning her.

---

“What do you mean daughter?” Damian snarls, finally switching to English. Bruce blinks at the boy before sighing.

“I mean, you have a biological sister.” He says, tired and wishing he had been able to convince Marinette to go somewhere else. Not that he didn’t want her to meet her siblings. But it definitely wasn’t the laid back first meeting that he wanted.

“You mean half-sister.” Damian spits out, crossing his arms and sticking his nose into the air.

“Shut up, Demon Spawn. She’s our sister, get over it. Where’d the kid come from? Her mom drop her off?” Jason asks, obviously trying to actually understand the situation.

“No. I first met her at the Museum and had my suspicions. She’s in Gotham on a class trip, and before you ask, yes. We had a DNA test done and yes, I am her father.” Bruce says, frowning when he sees Dick’s hurt expression morph into one of excitement.

“Wait, wait, wait! Was she the girl who was sassing the Joker?” He asks quietly, practically buzzing with excitement. When Bruce nods, Dick cheers and runs from the room. Okay then.

“Wait, she met the Joker?” Jason asks, his expression turning dark. Bruce watches his son’s face morph into one of disgust when he puts it together. “She’s the French kid he had at gunpoint, isn’t she?”

“Yes. Which is one of the reasons why we both thought the manor would be a more appropriate meeting place rather than somewhere public.” Bruce says, sighing as Damian once again starts screaming. This was not what he had planned.

---

After just a few minutes with Alfred, Marinette already felt calmer. Calm enough to giggle at another story about something that one of the boys- one of her brothers- did. Calm enough to let her guard down. And mess up.

“If you wanna see something ridiculous, you should look up the 26th time Monsieur Ramier was akumatized into Monsieur Pigeon. He made all the buildings turn into bird cages and all the food turned into bird seed. Luckily it didn’t last long, but seeing the Mayor of Paris stuck inside a giant bird cage was kind of hilarious.” Marinette rambles, giggling at the memory. It was definitely a needed akuma, situated right between two super destructive akumas. Monsieur Pigeon was, while a nuisance, always a breath of fresh air. His akumatized form was brought on by his fierce protectiveness of the pigeons, which luckily never led to death for civilians.

“Pardon me, Miss Marinette, but could I ask what you mean by ‘akumatized’?” Alfred asks, his posture suddenly stiff. Marinette’s eyes widen as she realizes what she just did. She told someone outside of Paris about the situation happening in Paris. Well crap. Normal Parisians didn’t know about the media block that she had set up with the help of the Mayor and Max. But after her calls to the Justice League were ignored, and she realized how disastrous it would be for a member of the League to be akumatized, the media block was the best choice. Time to act clueless.

“Akumatized, as in, a person is possessed by an akuma? Surely you’ve heard of it. It’s been happening in Paris for almost two years.” She says, hoping he doesn’t ask to see any evidence. This isn’t good, this is awful, this-

“And what is an akuma?” Alfred asks. Okay, this isn’t too bad.

“It’s an evil butterfly sent out by the villain, Hawkmoth.” Marinette says, giving out more information than she’s really comfortable with. Okay, time to change the subject, no more questions about heroes or villains or-

“Marinette!” A new voice calls, sliding into the kitchen, almost immediately falling over.

“Master Dick, have you forgotten about your ban on the kitchen?” Alfred asks, his lips quirking up in amusement.

“Awww, Alfred, I just wanted to talk to Marinette. I feel bad for all of us overwhelming her back there.” Dick says with a pout that somehow doesn’t look ridiculous on him. Despite obviously being at least ten years older than her.

“Don’t feel bad. It was just...a lot all at once.” Marinette says with a small smile.

“So I have to ask, are you the one who sassed the Joker at the Museum the other day?” He asks, a wide grin on his face as he sits on one of the stools. Marinette’s eyes widen and she blinks. How?

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess. It wasn’t a big deal though. He thought I was a Wayne- well, I guess he figured it out before I did- but I think he just wanted to scare my class.” She says, waving her hand to brush off the topic. She really didn’t want to talk about the Joker. Because she was sure it would turn into-

“I apologize for asking, but have you been caught up in the villain attacks in Paris before?” Alfred asks, Marinette instantly panicking. Sure, she’d been caught up in almost every single akuma battle as Ladybug. But there were a few on record where she was targeted as Marinette, and even a few battles that she assisted as Marinette. And then there was Kwami Buster…

“Well, a few. But basically everyone in Paris has dealt with it at some point. That’s just what happens when there’s an attack so often, you know? And my school seems to be a hotspot but that makes sense because teenagers are full of negative emotions and-” Marinette cuts off her rambling, cursing herself on the inside. Great job, Mari. Now they’re going to be worried or they’re going to think you’re a freak or-

“What do you mean negative emotions? Why would that matter?” Dick asks, his previous cheerful smile replaced with a look that clearly meant business.

“That’s how the villain chooses his targets. Negative emotion. If someone is having a bad enough day, he can take control of them and give them powers and basically destroy the city trying to get to Ladybug and Chat Noir, who are our heroes. I only know what’s been posted on official sites like the Ladyblog or miraculousparis.org.” Marinette says, smiling apologetically and hoping that this conversation can be over.

“Have you ever been akumatized?” Dick asks, tension suddenly filling the room.

“No, thankfully. I’ve found ways to manage my negative emotions so that they can’t take me over. I don’t blame anyone who has been akumatized, it’s hard not to be. But, I also don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself if I was akumatized.” Because then her family would be a target. Because Hawkmoth would know her identity. And if Hawkmoth’s insistence on her being akumatized was anything to go on, she’d be a devastating akuma. And if Ladybug wasn’t fighting in the battle….would the cure even work?

“That is a lot of pressure, Miss Marinette.” Alfred says softly after a moment of tense silence. Marinette grins brightly.

“I can handle it, don’t worry!” She says, hoping no one can tell how hard it actually is. How hard it is constantly being strong. Never truly feeling a negative emotion.

---

Bruce winces at the faux cheerfulness in his daughter’s voice. He had only found out about the Paris situation a few days ago, but he was determined to fix it. Find a solution. Do something to help the city and by extension, his daughter. She’d be going back there soon. Back to a city that was being held hostage by an emotional terrorist. Bruce would fix this. He had to.

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knockingonmychamberdoor · 2 years

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random eddie munson headcannons because i said so:

- growing up lower class, eddie definitely has a taste for junk food. he definitely eats pretty horribly and probably orders like chicken tenders whenever he goes out.

- his biggest fear in life is turning into his dad. resentment of him is part of why he started to grow out his hair.

- you'd think he'd have an artsy explanation for all his tattoos, but in reality most are haphazard sketches he decided to ink. speaking of which, he's actually a great artist.

- on the subject of art, eddie has a secret giant collection of art supplies used for the hellfire shirts. (most of its probably stolen but shhhh)

- the dio patch on the back of his vest (seen worn as a shirt in the photo on his missing poster) was incredibly well loved. his uncle saved up to get him a few things like that when eddie first began to get into metal, and when he outgrew it he upcycled it to a patch.

- this man cannot cook to save his life. he can burn something while still having it be raw in the center.

- eddie is most likely closer to pansexuality, but doesn't really like or know of much of a label. he can and will flirt with anything with a pulse, be it knowingly or subconsciously.

- probably feeds stray cats table scraps, would do more if he had more money. thinks it adds to his lost sheep thing.

- makes tiny trinkets for dustin to show he cares.

- speaking of dustin, he loves him with all his heart. knowing dustin's lack of father figure eddie goes out of his way to be one for him, one eddie never had. it benefits both of them in the long run.

- dustin's mom invites him over for supper once a week. eddie denied it at first but eventually ran out of excuses. dustin's mom loves eddie and always gives him a little container of extra food to take.

- he gets very excited very easily. eddie is most likely some form of neurodivergent and in denial.

- loves sharing music with people he loves. even if you listen to something completely different he'll gladly listen and analyze the lyrics, knowing songs have an intense link to souls.

- takes great care of his hair. it takes work to look bad.

- started dealing not because he wanted to, but because he needed money.

- has been known to shoplift from local grocery stores.

- eddie has always dreamed of being taken care of and having someone to love, cherish, and protect. he makes his own scenarios of a potential partner who would love him exactly how he is.

- adores halloween decorations. if he had the money he'd gladly buy all year decor during spooky season.

- if you're his s/o or even just best friend, he will do absolutely anything for you. point something out in a store?? a few days later it's miraculously yours. mention a favorite movie or album?? he's watching/listening to it.

- eddie finds people watching to be an interesting pass time. he's very observant despite not caring about others.

- he would gladly write you songs.

- will ruin his reputation and come to any event you're in. sports player?? he's in the front row cheering. acting in a school/community production?? he's there every night with flowers giving you a standing ovation.

- although his handwriting is barely legible, he writes you love letters constantly.

- seems naturally great at any instrument he picks up.

- he's got the worst abandonment issues ever.

- cries when he starts to get close to people.

- given his reputation as a freak, eddie got asked out as a joke constantly in years before. for this reason, he doesn't take it seriously when you show any interest in him at first. a breakdown session and a lot of intense feelings later he's more aware.

- always thinks you're too good for him and can overcompensate at times.

- has both mommy and daddy issues.

- there's long stories behind each and every one of his rings.

- occasionally paints his nails black and wears eyeliner. for the concerts of course. and then the next few days after.

- contrary to popular belief, eddie is insanely intelligent. (i mean, think of how quickly he learned master of puppets when it was freshly released. man is practically a musical genius.) part of the reason he keeps failing his senior year is because of his dyslexia no one takes seriously. so he started to give up on himself.

ive got tons more of these i could discuss, so if you like this post give me a like or a follow!! support a new writer granted this is my first post and leave some eddie requests!! thanks for reading loves <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn #stranger things #eddie munson x you #stranger things four #eddie munson fanfic #new writing blog #new writers on tumblr #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fluff

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amjustagirl · 4 years

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Hogwarts AU (Haikyuu!!)

feat. Bokuto Koutaro

Previously: Miya Atsumu. Miya Osamu. Kita Shinsuke. Kuroo Tetsuro. Tsukkishima Kei

Masterlist link here

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff

Wordcount: 4.1k

Genre / Pairings: Fluff, Angst, Hogwarts AU, Bokuto / Reader

Summary: Tutoring Bokuto Kotaro in Charms seems like a waste of your time. But then you get to know the Hufflepuff seeker, and start looking forward to your tutoring sessions with him.

A/N: Comments as always, are much welcomed. Feel free to shout at me anytime!

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“I’m Bokuto!”

You stare coldly at the large hand shoved into your face. “Yes, I know. And so?” You arch an eyebrow and let your question linger awkwardly in the air. Surprisingly, even that fails to dampen the brightness of the grin on his face, despite the fact that any other student would have turned tail and run at being on the receiving end of the resident Ice Queen of Slytherin’s glares.

Your Charms professor coughs into his hand. “Ah. Yes. Bokuto requires some tutoring assistance, and I thought you’d be the right person to help out.”

You open your mouth in protest, but clamps it shut at the look of warning the professor shoots at you. It’s your bad luck you got caught sneaking books out of the restricted section of the library, it wasn’t as if the books you had your eye on contained dark magic in any case, they just contained spells deemed too dangerous for idiots like the one standing before you to even attempt. And instead of detention for a month, your Charms Professor who’s always had a soft spot for you suggested you divert your free time to tutoring struggling students instead.

“Fine”, you snap before turning to the boy. “You better not be as bad as Ushijima - Merlin only knows he was as dumb as a bag of bricks”.

Bokuto agrees to meet you every Tuesday in an unused classroom for Charms tutoring. You do not care that he seems to wilt ever so slightly at the insults you lob at his Hufflepuff teammate - you have no time to suffer fools, after all.

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

Unfortunately, while Bokuto doesn’t take everything as literally as Ushijima (it was a problem you faced when you tutored the stone faced boy, especially for a subject requiring as much personal flair as Charms), he struggles with the precise motions and pronunciation needed for Charm incantations, and you’re losing your patience with him after he messes up Aguamenti for the tenth time today.

“You need to move your wand like a wave of water before pointing it sharply - like you’re shooting a jet of water into a glass”, you repeat yourself in exasperation.

He tries his best, waving his wand exaggeratedly but forgets the emphasis on the second syllable, so his wand remains completely dry.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes. “Look - it’s really not that hard. If you remembered all the notes I gave you about this charm, you’d have gotten it by now. Merlin - what’s wrong with you dumb Quidditch Players?”

“It’s not that easy to remember everything when you keep calling me dumb all the time”, Bokuto mutters, resentment colouring his tone.

Your shock that Bokuto - the human embodiment of a sunbeam, seems to have abandoned his usual cheerfulness for an uncharacteristically stormy expression, quickly morphs into annoyance that he has the temerity to get short with you considering you’re the one that’s been forced to give up her Tuesday evenings in an attempt to get him to pass his Charms exams.

“That’s because you ARE dumb”, you retort coolly. “Try casting the charm again”.

He shocks you again by gathering his things and walking out of the classroom.

“Where are you going?”, you call after him, confused. Even Ushijima put up with your insults and snide remarks for an entire term, but Bokuto doesn’t even look back.

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

Bokuto doesn’t turn up next week either despite struggling in class with the very charm you spent hours trying to hammer into his head. Nor the week after that. Midterms come and go, and you overhear from a group of his twittering fangirls in the bathroom that his spot on the Quidditch team is on the line after failing his Charms exam as expected.

Guilt gnaws at you. Strange, since you assumed your heart is practically a block of ice by now.

You spend days trying to corner him to no avail. You always knew he had plenty of friends, but you didn’t realise how popular he actually was. He’s constantly surrounded by his teammates - or even other Quidditch players like Kuroo from Slytherin, or Hinata from Gryffindor, and his childhood best friend Akaashi follows him like a shadow despite being from Ravenclaw, not Hufflepuff.

So you bide your time and wait until he finishes Quidditch practice, whispering from the shadows “Diffindo” to sever the straps of his bag. Your plan works - Bokuto cheerfully waves his teammates to go on without him, and the horde of hungry Hufflepuff Quidditch players head off to the Great Hall for dinner.

“Why haven’t you come back for tutoring sessions?” You try to sharpen your question into an accusation, but your guilt makes you falter midway and you just sound bewildered instead.

Your bewilderment is mirrored in Bokuto’s eyes. “Huh?” he frowns. “I thought you didn’t want to tutor me in the first place, so I asked my friends to help me out instead.”

You snort, tapping your foot. “Akaashi’s a year below, so I doubt he’s much help, and Kuroo’s much better at potions than at charms. And I hear you’re going to get kicked off the team if you don’t pull up your Charms grades in the remedial exams before Christmas.”

The furrow between his brows deepens. “Why do you care if I’m failing my exams?”

You’re not accustomed to dealing with someone so straightforward and genuine and innocent. You’re used to conniving serpents like Oikawa and Daishou who would have no hesitation hiding daggers in their sleeves just to get ahead, so the fact that his question is honest floods your belly with guilt.

“Because I feel bad for calling you dumb.” You decide to honour his honesty with a straight answer. “Do you still want me to tutor you if I promise to be nice?”

Any shadow of lingering guilt is chased away by the sheer sunniness of his smile.

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

The ice in your heart starts to thaw in the face of his exuberance and friendliness.

“You’re much nicer than people say you are”, he tells you one day with blunt honesty. “Why don’t you have more friends?”

You shrug, accustomed to the title that your peers have chosen to label you with. The Ice Queen of Slytherin, your housemates whisper behind your back after you slash Miya Atsumu’s robes in your second year, leaving him standing in nothing but his underwear after he pulled your bra strap on a dare.

Your mother and older sisters taught you self-defense charms even before you entered Hogwarts, and you have no qualms about using them, even against one of the most popular boys in your house. But it proves to be a miscalculation - one that leaves you with few friends other than those who’ve known you since your childhood.

“I don’t need friends”, you say, words frigid.

He grins at you, undeterred. “I’ll be your friend!” He declares, leaning forward, balancing his chair precariously on two legs.

“I’d be happier if you pass your exam”, you tell him dismissively, though there’s an amused curl at the corner of your lips.

True to his word, Bokuto drags Akaashi over to the Slytherin table during dinner the very next day. You startle as he plops into the empty seat across you, Akaashi giving you a slight nod of acknowledgement that’s also tinged with an unspoken ‘sorry you have to put up with my overly excitable best friend these days’ that you snort at.

Kuroo rounds up the trio, and between his and Bokuto’s bickering over who’s getting the best pickings from the meat dishes on the table, and Akaashi’s admonishments not to cause a ruckus that fall on deaf ears, you’re so entertained that you laugh aloud, though you wince internally when half the Slytherin table snaps their heads around to stare at you, dumbfounded.

Miya Osamu actually looks up from his katsudon to elbow his brother. Miya Atsumu chokes on his food.

You assume it was just a one-off event, Bokuto just trying to repay you with his kindness, but to your surprise, he’s back at least twice a week, and soon your lonely corner at the Slytherin table turns into the most boisterous ones. His very presence draws the most random assortment of people into his sphere - soon you’re joined by Tsukkishima, the quiet, stone faced Ravenclaw, Hinata, Bokuto’s self appointed protege and burgeoning sun in his own right, Sawamura, the stoic, steady Hufflepuff Keeper, on top of the usual suspects like Kuroo and Akaashi.

Not everyone is as amused by this turn of events.

“What’s he doing at our table?”

“I heard he’s being tutored by the Ice Queen herself - maybe that’s why he’s here.”

“That makes sense. Heard he’s really dumb.”

You stiffen as you hear your classmates snigger. Bokuto wilts, even the ridiculous mop of hair on his head starts to droop. Kuroo and Akaashi wear twin expressions of murderous intent on their face and both start to rise, insults on their tongues when you whip out your wand, freezing your offending classmate’s lips to his glass.

“Call him dumb one more time and I’ll freeze your balls to the bench”, you smile sweetly, poison in your words.

Kuroo guffaws as you turn back to your conversation with them with a saccharine “now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?” Akaashi snorts into his hands.

Bokuto looks at you as if you’ve handed him the latest firebolt model on a gilded plate. You refuse to meet his eyes for the rest of the night.

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

You find that he responds far better to praise than negative reinforcement, bouncing around the classroom with such childlike enthusiasm whenever he succeeds in casting another new charm that it makes your lips tilt upwards. The combination of his Hufflepuff diligence and your renewed patience makes his performance in charms skyrocket, and soon, he’s improved enough for you to teach him the more fiddly, advanced charms.

‘You have to flick your wrist lightly’, you tell him for the fifth time this evening. Ascendio is a difficult charm to master, even by your own standards, your own wrist already sore from the various rounds of demonstration.

He tries to mirror your action. It doesn’t work.

‘Um.’ You rack your brains, thinking of something, anything that might help.

Ah.

‘You’ve got to move your whole arm like it’s the wing of a snitch. You know – keep the arm and wrist action light, like the flutter of wings.’

He furls his brow, trying to mirror your action again. It doesn’t work. This time, he pouts.

Impatient, you grab his hand. ‘Look!’ You slap at his arm to get him to loosen up – seriously, what do they feed these quidditch players, taut muscles tensing beneath your fingers as you try to puppet his arm into an approximation of the wrist movement. He gazes down at you with wide eyes as you press your form against him.

‘I’ll show it to you again. Ascendio’, you call, and with a sharp flick of your wrist, your feet lift off the ground, your skirt fluttering in the air. Then with a smooth swish of your wand, you descend to the ground, cocking your head to your student. ‘Come on, Bokuto, you’ve got to master it by the end of the night.’

He tries again and again to no avail. Charms is a far more creative branch of magic than transfiguration or even potions – and what works for one might not work for another. You recalibrate, trying to relate what you’re teaching to his true love - Quidditch.

‘Maybe you could imitate the movement of a snitch about to take off once the whistle blows?’

‘A snitch?’ he laughs boisterously at your suggestion. ‘I could do that.’

He screws up his eyes tightly, his entire body falling still before he raises his arm. With a flick and swish, a hooted “Ascendio”, Bokuto floats up into the air.

“I did it!” He pumps his fists in the air, grinning down at you. Then with a smooth finite incantatem, he descends back to the grimy classroom floor.

“Well done!” You laugh aloud, clapping your hands, so drunk with elation at his success that you don’t notice the sudden softness in his golden eyes.

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

“Waiting for Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asks.

You hesitate for a beat, a pink tint to the apples of your cheeks before you nod without a word.

“I’ll leave you two be then”, the Ravenclaw boy says, walking off with his hands tucked in his robes, a small smile flickering on his face.

You exhale slowly through your nose. Maybe you should have left Akaashi to wait for Bokuto instead - they’re best friends, practically platonic soulmates you gather from Bokuto’s chatter as he walks you back to the Slytherin dungeons every Tuesday night, something he insists on despite your protests. You’re just his tutor - but here you are, hanging around outside the classroom where his remedial exam is being held, palms clammy in nervous anticipation.

You tell yourself that you’re waiting for him because you can’t wait to know whether the tutoring sessions that take up your precious Tuesday evenings will end. You wonder if that means that he’ll stop coming over to hang out over dinner with you, the thought making your heart feel as if it’s frosted over again.

“Hey, hey, hey!” His booming voice interrupts your reverie, and you glance up to see him burst out of the classroom, the joy on his face outshining even the sun.

“You passed, I assume”, you snark, hands on hips, but he doesn’t even register your badly disguised coldness, grabbing by the waist to lift you easily into the air, spinning you in circles until you’re both giddy with delight.

“I did, I did, thanks to you!” He crows, still clinging on to you like a lifeline. “They were so impressed when I cast Ascendio, and I was like swish, and they were like aughhh wahhhhh - and it was so awesome!”

“I’m glad my effort paid off then, dummy”, you tease - seriously, it would make your housemates’ jaws drop if they caught you giggling, let alone being held aloft in Bokuto’s arms, but you’re just so happy for him that you don’t order him to put you down.

He stills suddenly, and you’re worried that he’s taken offense at the affectionate nickname until you notice his eyes are trained at the arch above you and oh -

Mistletoe.

It’s Christmas, and the house elves have hung enchanted sprigs of mistletoe around the castle on the orders of the mischievous headmaster to prank unsuspecting students. Any student trapped under enchanted mistletoe may only be released upon giving or receiving a kiss, and you’re about to press a chaste kiss to Bokuto’s nose when you glance back at him and notice his eyes are molten gold, laden with desire.

“Bokuto - “ you begin, but you’re promptly cut off by the searing brand of his lips against yours, gasping as he backs you against the wall, his mouth plundering yours. You should protest, but any sentient thought you might have is lost in your newly awakened hunger for him, this beautiful, sweet boy with golden eyes and silver hair who’s kissing you.

“I like you,” he says breathlessly when you finally push him away in an effort to pull air into your deprived lungs. “Go out with me - please?” he adds, almost as an afterthought, brushing his thumb against your cheek with a gentleness that belies his large frame crowding you against the wall.

You want to, oh Merlin - you want to indulge in the warmth that’s starting to sprout in the previously frozen tundra of your heart but you have to recognise that he’s Bokuto Koutaro, Quidditch player extraordinaire bound for the professional leagues, so popular that he already has a fanclub in school.

And you - you were a social pariah before you met him, you would ruin his reputation if anyone finds out that you’re in a relationship with him, not to mention you’ve been accused of being cold and distant and harsh - all characteristics that disqualify you from being a good match for him.

“I can’t.” You shake your head, keeping him an arm’s length distance from you, because if he comes any closer, you might lose your resolve. “We wouldn’t work out at all”.

The golden light dims in his eyes, and his arms fall limply to his side. “Is it because I’m dumb?” He asks, his voice heartbreakingly quiet.

“No!” You cry, taking a step towards him. “That’s not it at all!”

He frowns, confused. “Then why don’t you wanna go out with me? Don’t you like me?”

“I do”, you admit, hating yourself for having to extinguish the spark of hope in his eyes. “But we won’t work out -”

“Why’re you so sure of that?” He takes a step forward, reaching towards you. You knock his hands away and he stumbles back, stung.

“Because I’m not good enough for you!” You shout, your words echoing against the castle walls. “Because I’m snarky and frigid and cold and rotten to the core - and you’re wonderful and funny and sweet and you deserve so much better than me”.

Your words stun him into silence, and before he can work out a response, before your resolve starts to crumble, you take a large step away from him. With trembling hands, you reinforce the frozen fort in your heart, forcing yourself to beat a hasty retreat.

“Besides”, you add, voice shaking. “What could I possibly offer you?”

You disappear around the corner, coldly ignoring him even as he calls your name.

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

“He’s wandering around the castle like a lovelorn ghost”, Akaashi says, dropping into the library seat across yours.

“Explain why that makes it my business”, you hiss with the indignation of a cornered boggart with no means of escape.

He just gives you a knowing look and you glance at the skulking librarian, wondering if you should risk a detention to drive your sharpest quill into the back of the Ravenclaw boy’s hand.

“You know, it’s sad you think so little of Bokuto-san that you refuse to allow him to make choices for himself.”

“What are you - “

“It’s true, isn’t it?” His gaze remains resolute, even as you snarl. “Why don’t you prove me wrong?”

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

But you’re stubborn, so you avert your eyes whenever Bokuto comes into your line of sight, changing seats so you don’t sit anywhere near him in Charms, escaping whenever he tries to call your name. Your Tuesday tutoring sessions with him are a thing of the past. You even hear from Miya Osamu that Bokuto’s been trying and failing to bribe first years into letting him into the Slytherin Dungeons, though they’re all far too frightened of your reputation to even dream of crossing you, not even for the bait of a ride on his rare firebolt.

You’re lonely, but you refuse to admit it to yourself.

You even refuse to watch the match between Hufflepuff and Slytherin despite it being touted as the social event of the year. Both team’s lineups are exceedingly impressive. Representing Hufflepuff there are powerful players like Bokuto, Ushijma, Azumane, even surly Kyoutani. Slytherin’s certainly no slouch either, with Oikawa, Suna, Daishou, Kuroo and the Miya twins.

But you huddle in the library and ignore the screams and cheers of the whole school spectating the match until Akaashi skids into the library, distress clear on his face.

“He’s injured”, he manages to spit out between heaving breaths, and you don’t even need to ask who he is, panic turning your ribs into kindling, burning a blaze through your chest as you sprint full speed towards the hospital wing.

Quidditch is a horrendously dangerous sport - the Daily Prophet Sports Section is full of horrendous injuries like long lasting concussions and smashed bones that you’re already imagining the worst by the time you cross the threshold of the hospital wing. But Bokuto’s not even lying on the cot - he’s sitting upright, a confused yet hopeful expression on his face as you stare at him, dumbfounded.

“A-Akaashi said you were injured”, you manage to stutter.

Bokuto waves a bandaged finger at you. “Yep”, he says, taking wary steps one at a time towards you. “Suna got me good when I was about to catch the snitch”.

“Oh”, you say lamely. “I see.” You’re thankful no one else is in the hospital wing to see your disgrace. “I’ll be going, then”.

“Wait! Please don’t run away again”, he begs, taking advantage of your distracted state to catch your hand, his fingers circling your wrist easily. You tug against his grip, but it’s futile - you’ve left your wand in the library in your mad rush, and years of Quidditch training have sculpted Bokuto into the human embodiment of a brick wall.

“Let go of me!” You order him in the coldest tone you can muster. It’s not even icy - in fact, it’s probably lukewarm.

He shakes his head, as stubborn as you. “Not until you hear me out”, he replies, pulling you out of the hospital wing into the nearest unused classroom.

“Fine.” You cross your arms. “What do you want to say to me then?”

“Well for starters, you’re the most amazing, scary girl I know”, he says, grinning boyishly at you. “You’re so much smarter than me I don’t know how your head doesn’t go pfft cos it sure isn’t large enough to hold all your brains. And you’re nice - I don’t know why you pretend you’re not - Yachi said you cursed the boys who teased her ‘cos you found her in the bathroom crying, even though you literally met her for the first time - “

“Why are you telling me this?” You cut in, confused.

“Cos you asked me what you could offer me” He answers simply, his fingers slotting in between yours. “The answer is you. I want you. I like you.” His grin softens into a bashful, goofy, adorable smile. “And I know I’m not smart like you or Akaashi, but I know enough to think you like me too.”

Your mind is entreating you not to give in, reminding you that you’ll only drag him down with you but your selfish heart wins out. The weeks you’ve voluntarily isolated yourself from Bokuto have been cold and lonely, and the truth is you miss him - you miss the silly jokes he makes, the playful banter, his boundless confidence and kindness and friendliness. Maybe that makes you selfish, but you can’t deny it any longer, you want him for yourself.

So you reply with a shy smile of your own. “Maybe I do - like you, I mean”, you say, with an earnestness you must have learnt from him, tilting your face up towards him like a flower seeking the sun.

His eyes grow wide with delight as you step into the circle of his arms, allowing him to draw you against his broad chest.

“And to be honest, maybe I’m the fool for not letting myself admit that I’ve always liked you”.

“Don’t call yourself tha - mmmph!”

This time it’s your turn to interrupt him with a kiss, tipping his head down to slide your lips against his, the heat in his eyes and the sunshine in his smile that finally melting the last vestiges of ice in your heart and transforming you from a snow maiden into a girl made of flesh and bone.

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

Akaashi convinces you to sneak into the holding area before the next match between Slytherin and Hufflepuff.

You’re self conscious, constantly adjusting the scarf in Hufflepuff yellow and black looped around your throat, but that immediately dissolves when Bokuto whoops the minute he spots you, bounding over to sweep you into an embrace, demanding at least twenty kisses before he lets you go.

You oblige, because when faced with Bokuto’s pleading eyes, you’re weak, soft.

Then you realise why Akaashi was so insistent on you surprising Bokuto just before his big match.

Miya Atsumu falls off his broom, slack jawed. Miya Osamu trips over him. Even Suna Rintarou looks at you and Bokuto with a modicum of fear and respect.

“Get it together!” Kuroo snaps at his team, hands on hips.

None of that registers with Bokuto, of course. The minute the whistle blows, he speeds off, leaving even Oikawa in the dust, and before a dazed Miya Atsumu even scores once against Daichi, the Hufflepuff keeper, Bokuto is already holding the golden snitch aloft in his hand. He proceeds to do laps of aerial cartwheels around the pitch before hovering in front of the stands where you sit, shamelessly blowing kisses towards you.

You hide your burning face in your hands. Akaashi just sits beside you, intolerably smug. Bokuto, oblivious as ever, just whoops.

672 notes · View notes

eureka-its-zico · 4 years

Text

Irrevocably Yours

Request: hey! can i request a scenario of jungkook being a rich kid who has ome of his legs is leg failure , basically can't walk without a cane , And he falls in love with a normal girl , and they end up running away , happy ending plz , also if u can , LIT IT Up with smut ' thank u ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

A/N: So. This request was sent to me a long ass time ago. I mean a LONG time ago, and I spent so much time working on it...it became too long. So I broke it up in half. Just to see if anyone actually becomes interested in how this ends. Just to see if anyone still reads anything I write. So if you end up enjoying this, please let me know and I’ll post the last of this. I have so many things buried inside my google docs that need to be set free from hibernation.

Also, I’m sorry if this isn’t any good. I’ve rewritten this a thousand times trying to fix it, and I’ve done all I can for now. I hope someone out there enjoyed this craziness. And to the original person who asked for this, if you ever see this, I’m sorry it took so long. P.s. I also took creative liberties and changed it up a little. Much love, Jenn

Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 13,756 (yeah I know, it was longer before I halved it. Sorry!)

Genre: fluffy/Smutty(later)/First Love drama sorts mess

A part of you would always remember the first day you’d met Jeon Jungkook. His presence standing in the doorway to the classroom held every single one of your classmate's attention along with yours. Jungkook silently demanded to be noticed, even though in a way he wanted no one to notice him at all. The classroom felt louder than usual, or maybe that was just how you recalled it. Maybe it's what caused the ringing in your ears when the room was swallowed up in silence. The sound of his cane hitting the stained linoleum; ticking like a time bomb with every step.

At first you couldn't see why he necessarily needed it. Jungkook was a master of hiding things. Even pain. It wasn’t until he’d reached the teachers desk, his hip moving to rest against it to ease the extra strain off his good leg, that the stories of his accident became true. Not one of you were willing to look too long at the challenge in his face. Defiance turning his soft features bitter as he glanced out across the room. Jungkook wanted to appear strong; to dare anyone to mutter even a word that he wasn’t. That he wasn’t the same person he was before the accident.

He must have been able to fool your home room teacher into forgetting. His eagerness to introduce Jungkook only caused him to accidentally come too close to his legs in passing. The teachers’ waist moved and harmlessly bump against Jungkook’s bad leg. A small movement that was enough to change Jungkook’s entire demeanor for just a second.

The whole room collectively took a breath; waiting for him to scream out in pain. To turn savage and yell or curse at the stupidity of the teacher. Jungkook did none of it. He continued to look out into the room with his chin held high.

You could see, however, through the crinkle by his eyes and how heavily he now leaned on his cane that it’s caused him a great deal of pain. A brief moment in showing what he tried to hide and if you weren’t staring so hard at him, you were sure you would’ve missed it.

An infamous legend among other schools as his face showed up on Sports articles that featured proud features of parents beaming excitedly at cameras. Taekwondo and track metal’s around his neck by the dozens. Grades to match the intensity of his athletic drive with a rumor that if he tried something for the first time, Jungkook would still be phenomenal at whatever it was.

Even without ever actually meeting him - everyone in that classroom knew who he was. Jeon Jungkook was a hard man not to hear about.

In the beginning of the year there’d been a different headline for him, however. He’d been the passenger in a friend's car that was struck by a drunk driver. The ferocity of the impact leaving the car looking like a bow. Jungkook lost a friend that night, and part of the mobility in his left leg. The driver himself died instantly and you weren't sure if that was justice enough for the two boys who’d lost so much in a matter of three seconds.

And with so much, yet so little known about him you found yourself unable to join the others in measuring up the boy in front of you.

Jungkook was taller than you thought he would be, or maybe you’d silently been hoping the universe wouldn’t be so cruel to give someone talent and every single attractive feature known to man. He’d been played up like he was a god among the rest of you feeble mortals. You figure’d girls were overacting, I mean it happens. Imagining after listening to all their swooning, you’d somehow shockingly find out he was nothing more than your average - ordinary - boy.

Jungkook was anything but ordinary.

His lean frame still retained years of training that wasn't so easily hidden, even under the layers of the school uniform. You could see the care he still placed on his outward appearance. The rising star who was still handsome, even underneath all his brooding. His school uniform strained against tight muscles in his arms and, worse, was his legs. Your cheeks heating into an embarrassed blush as his eyes landed on what seemed like your desk. It was silly to think he’d caught you gawking. Everyone was gawking at him, but even a millisecond of his gaze made your cheeks light up with embarrassment at the idea of being caught.

There was gossip of him not wanting to go back to his old school; his old life. You didn't really blame him. Why be stuck in a place where there were millions of memories of a time you had with a close friend? Of having the ability to walk down the halls without everyone looking at you like you were damaged goods.

“Everyone pay attention!” Mr. Choi shouted.

It all seemed unnecessary. Your attention was already on him whether he wanted it or not.

“I’d like to welcome our transfer student, Jeon Jungkook. I expect you all to be on your best behavior.”

“I don't need you to defend me,” he snapped.

He started moving his way down the aisle towards the only empty seat in the room: the one next to you.

You quickly turned away from him and started cleaning up your space. Jungkook got to the desk faster than you thought and dropped his backpack down on top of the desk. His long body slumped down into the seat, placing his cane next to the window seal.

“We’re going to continue with our previous lecture from yesterday. You can share with Y/N until you get your own books.”

You flipped to chapter eighteen with your many notes scattered inside. Your eyes giving him a sidelong glance before sliding the book neatly between the desks. Jungkook didn't bother to look at the pages: his gaze was locked elsewhere. Somewhere outside the window with the freedom far beyond the gates of the school.

The enter class you’d spun a hundred different sentences in your mind. Each one playing out in your head as pure idiotic or unnecessary. You just couldn’t shake the feeling that it felt wrong letting him sit there like no one cares. To be a part of the prying gazes of the class; to know his name and him not knowing yours in return. You weren't sure why you gave a shit so much, anyways, but you did.

At the sound of the bell he was the first one to hop back onto his feet. His hand instinctively taking hold of the cane to keep him propped up as he moved to situate his backpack over his shoulders. You’d followed close behind him and gathered up your things.

You didn't see him again until fifth period. His brooding presence in the back of the class hung like a dark cloud you couldn't shake. You knew you weren't necessarily the most cheerful person in the room, but even Jungkook’s sour puss attitude was making you want to throw glitter at him.

He didn't acknowledge you when you came to your usual seat at the window, and it didn't bother you. No one usually acknowledged you anyways. What did bother you was that he was sitting in your window seat. Statistics was by far your least favorite subject this year, and the one thing that kept you sane was that window seat.

“That's my spot.”

Your voice didn't hold any hint of malice. It was just definitive: you wanted your seat. Jungkook didn't look at you straight away. His eyes still daydreaming through the window and the world beyond. When he did finally look at you, you were sure the annoyance in his face was meant to send you packing. Too bad for him you’d seen worse.

“Is that look supposed to scare me? It doesn't change the fact you're in my spot.”

“I don't see your name on it.”

Your laughter turned to a scoff; cut short by your disbelief.

“What are we in middle school? If you want to get technical, it was assigned by the teacher aka my name is theoretically on that seat. So -”

You acted like he was a pet you could shoo off your bed. The hand motion earning you his brow to raise in return.

“You’d really make a cripple get up?”

“Is that what we’re calling you? A cripple? Because it looks to me like you’re still capable of doing things, oh say, a paraplegic can't.”

The anger rolled through him suddenly like storm clouds. All the possibilities of playful mischief disappeared as he regarded you with so much hate, it was as if he’d struck you.

“Oh, really? I didn't realize that they were giving away M.D titles in high schools now.”

Your mouth opened to - to what? Apologize? The sensitive part of you told you that you should. His accident hadn't been a full year yet, and here you were badgering him. Yet, you knew if you continuously babied him like everyone else it was only going to do more harm than good. Your next choice of words were cut short when your teacher walked in and asked why you were still standing.

“He’s in my spot.”

God, now who sounded like they were in middle school? Your teacher seemed to draw a blank. His gaze moving from you to Jungkook then back to you.

“Just sit down, Y/N.”

You did so with a huff. Your arms pulling your backpack you’d sat down on the desk closer to you like a pillow. Just so you could rest your chin on top of it and tried to ignore the smirk that was now on Jungkook’s face.

After you’d gone to your next class you couldn't stop thinking about your exchange. It turned your mood sour the rest of the day, and you couldn't understand why. A part of you wondering if it was because of your choice of words or the defeat that shown all too bright in his doe eyes.

The end of the day couldn't have come fast enough. You just wanted to get home and out of your uniform and maybe get a chance to go take some photos before your parents got home. You were too preoccupied with thoughts of where you wanted to go, and what coffee shop you wanted to stop at, when you collided into the back of someone else. A loud curse followed suit of the sound of a cane dropping on pavement making your eyes shut tight and your throat constrict around a groan.

“Jesus, can't you watch where you’re goi- oh, it's you. Enjoy attacking cripples, do we?”

You opened your eyes to see a less than amused smile on his face. He acted more like a judge at your hearing and whatever sentencing he was giving out, it wasn’t in your favor.

“I’m sorry I wasn't paying attention.”

You moved to pick up his cane for him when his hand angrily swatted yours away making you jump back a step.

“I don't need your charity. I can do it myself!”

“No one said you couldn’t! I was only trying to be nice.”

“Yeah, well, go and be nice somewhere else.”

He situated his weight on his good leg and bent at the knee low enough for his hand to reach out and grab his second form of support. The movement so graceful that it left you stunned, but not as much as his words did.

“You know, just because something bad happened to you, it doesn't give you the right to be an asshole. You aren't the only person to lose someone or something important. Get over yourself.”

With your hands latched underneath the straps of your backpack you stomped around him. Not caring that you left him standing stone still. His mouth slightly agape as he watched you take your exit.

During your walk home, somehow, Jungkook plagued your thoughts. Your mind unable to comprehend why you were still thinking about him. It was the first time you’d met, and yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. If you were being honest with yourself you knew from replaying the last thing you said to him.The look on his face saying plainly that you were an asshole.

Everyone’s pain mattered. Grief and loss wasn’t measured by anyone else’s pain but the person who experienced it, and to diminish it in any way was unfair. Regret was building inside your chest and it was all you could do to keep your feet from sprinting back in his direction.

When you got home you went directly to your room, throwing your bag on the bed, and sulked to your desk. You had more pressing matters to attend to than a boys’ possible hurt feelings. No matter how many times you tried, however, you weren’t able to write out theories on government history or explain anatomical questions.

The only thing your brain appeared to focus on was how to apologize.

You thought about Jungkook while you showered and brushed your teeth. You thought of him when you laid in bed and struggled to find a way to sleep. Your mind playing out the million different possibilities of how your apology would be taken from him. You didn't necessarily understand what it felt like to have your dreams stolen from you. To be forced to cope with a new life you hadn’t asked for and the emptiness of losing someone you loved all in one go.

If the tables were turned and it was you, wouldn’t you feel equally as bitter?

The following morning in between toaster cooked waffles and fixing your uniform in the mirror, you’d resigned to apologizing to him. No matter how much thinking of it made your teeth grind and a growl rise in your chest at the thought. You imagined him sneering and replying with smart remarks and it caused your mind to waver, but you were better than the pettiness swelling in your chest. You were okay with knowing his prickled exterior came from something you couldn't ever understand.

You made sure all the time you had while you walked to school was used up by mumbling the speech you’d made up the night before. At crosswalks practicing the best stance that didn't appear threatening, was friendly, but wouldn't be misconstrued as flirting.

That was by far the last thing you wanted to happen in his eyes. Sure, Jungkook was undeniably attractive...as much as you would've loved to laugh sarcastically in his perfectly sculpted face that his obviously very masculine features did nothing to make you weak in the knees. That you hadn’t noticed when his elbows, still clad in his jacket, moved to rest on the desk it’d caused his biceps and shoulders to equally fight for whatever was left of the fabric. Or that small scar on his cheek caught your attention when he became annoyed; his tongue poking out at the side of his jaw.

No, you hadn't been paying an embarrassing amount of attention to him at all (or at the ridiculous outline of his thigh muscles in his school uniform) with every step he took.

So, since you hadn't personally taken notice of any of physically appealing traits, why would you flirt? You were well aware of the vast difference of not only your social scale, but also of your class ranking, and looks overall. You were lightyears away from ever being able to consider being more than a female acquaintance he happened to get stuck next to at school. He wasn't the first boy who was out of your league, and Jungkook wouldn't be the last. Why it bothered you so much was a child's thought you refused to entertain.

When you finally got to school you hurried up the steps and briskly made your way down the hall. Not stopping even after Jenny cursed after you for nudging her as you went by. As soon as you swung open the door for homeroom, your eyes landed on Jungkook’s position. His cane leaning against the desk, hands tucked inside the pockets of his uniform slacks as he leaned back against the chair.

His gaze was focused somewhere outside the window, completely blank and motionless, and you wondered if he could've been having a thought at all. He was close to being marked as unreal in your book when he blinked and turned his gaze towards you.

You hadn't realized you’d been staring until that moment. Your gaze dropping to the worn linoleum as you briskly made your way down to your desk. A mumbled, “Good morning,” falling like a bad habit from your lips while you came around the side to slid into the desk chair. Nervous hands clutching tightly to your bag as you stared straight ahead, unwilling to glance in his direction.

Somewhere between cursing your awkwardness and staring out the window like an escape hatch your teacher started the lecture. None of it to which you were paying attention too, which was probably why you heard him call your name. You jerked in your seat as he yelled it a second time. Your eyes no doubt wide from giggles that sounded around the room.

“Y/N, since you're listening, you can go ahead and answer number forty-seven in the workbook.”

Panic sent your eyes wide as you stared back at his expectant face: waiting for you to fail. You hadn't even taken your book out since you’d sat down, finally moving to do so, when you felt a light tap against your bag. It was enough to jerk your gaze away from the teacher and down to a completed book of all the problems done by Jungkook.

He cleared his throat and tucked his hands back inside the pockets of his trousers easily not understanding the severity of how his actions had left you wide-eyed in surprise. You were still taking too long, causing your teacher to prompt you with a grunt and Jungkook to casually reach out and tap the answer again. Your eyes trailing over the written answer before standing up and clearing your throat. The answer rolling off your tongue as easy as breathing; as if you didn't just steal it from a notebook.

You made a silent prayer the teacher didn't notice the sweat threatening to break at your temple. The nervous ticking of your feet tilting from spot to spot. A rush of relief escaping your lips when his response to your answer was to continue class.

You took your seat next to Jungkook; unable to acknowledge him just yet for saving you from whatever punishment your teacher would've no doubt thought of. The realization that Jungkook himself was the reason for your lack of concentration making your cheeks flush an embarrassing pink making your arms wrap protectively around your backpack.

You’d never even brought out your textbook. Never dropped your bag from your desk and no doubt Mr. Choi knew you were given the answer. You buried your mouth against the coarse nylon in a weak attempt to stifle your embarrassment.

“Thank you.”

Your eyes caught the soft tilt of his brow as it rose at the muffled words. You could make out his left shoulder leaning him down towards your huddled position, making your hands involuntarily tighten into your backpack.

“What was that?”

The husky whisper of his words weren't anything you’d heard before, and they resonated up your spine to leave you staring starry-eyed.

“Th-thank you. For giving me the answer.”

He didn't respond. His gaze fixed solely on your face until you forcibly struggled to keep from fidgeting under its weight. After what felt like a small eternity, Jungkook nodded his head and faced forward. The sudden ghost of the death of your conversation causing you to blink at his profile.

The rest of the class was spent with your focus lacking on taking notes. How could you focus with his presence commanding your attention? A small army of ants creeping along your nerves demanding to acknowledge him. It was so strong, when the bell rang you jumped up from your seat to try and escape into the freedom of the school’s hallway, only to end up with your knee connecting straight into the hardwood of the desk. Jungkook’s snort at your misfortune was enough to remind you how much of an arrogant pain in the ass he could be.

“Wow - good job doofus.”

Your head snapped back in his direction; tongue rolling in your cheek as he hopped up from his seat. A hand snaking out to grab his bag and sling it over his shoulder as the other reached for his cane. You held your head high despite how awful your knee was stinging, and stood up adjusting your bag.

“Seriously? That's all you've got? Doofus? Next time let’s try harder.”

Jungkook didn't seemed miffed by your retort, actually seeming more amused than anything, and for some reason it only bugged you more. Did you really want to get into another argument like you were in primary school with him? You discarded the thought as you tightened the strings on your backpack and decided to take the mature route and leave him behind.

The hallways mass of bodies rushing to get to their next period giving you comfort; until you remembered you shared the same economics class. Today was also a field trip to a farm to learn the process of making soy products. It would take up the last few classes of the day. You’d been excited to spend the day out of class and enjoy the rustic scenery out of town. Your only hope was that he hadn't been able to get his parental slip signed; he’d just started the day before. How could he?

When the teacher walked in and asked Jungkook for his permission slip you wanted to howl. Why was the universe so cruel? But why did you care so much?

It was a question you didn't bother to think about; you just grumbled the whole way to the bus. Your teacher standing at its entrance to put a check by your names every time one of your classmates passed him by like lined up cattle. You were the last checkmark: the last person to find an available seat. You rounded the final step and your stomach sank down into your shoes. The universe seeming to play a sick joke of musical chairs; your only options being Jungkook or Amber, the girl who actively struggled to make sure your life was a living hell.

You’d rather be eaten by dogs than even attempt to sit with her. Jungkook it was, then.

Your hand clasped tighter around the strap of your bag as you moved it farther up your shoulder. A large sigh accommodating your steps as you side-stepped down the aisle ending with you in front of his seat. His cane taking up what was left of it.

Jungkook didn't seem to register your presence or he just decided to pretend you weren't there. Either way you felt your annoyance grow as you cleared your throat to grab his attention. His chin barely leaving the perch of his fist as his head turned; gaze intimidating in a way that left your fingers pinching the fabric of yours clothes just to make sure they were still there and he hadn't stared straight through them.

“Can I help you?”

“I need a seat.”

He looked back and no doubt noticed the open spot next to Amber. Jungkook’s giving the slightest nod as he retorted, “There’s one right back there.”

“Come on, Jungkook. What do you want?”

“You're bribing me now?”

His smile was so bright, borderline adorable, and you hated how it threatened to make you retaliate with your own.

“Stop being a brat and just tell me,” you snapped instead.

Jungkook shot a quick glance back at Amber’s giggling figure. You were sure most people thought she sounded like wind chimes or something else cute and feminine, but to you it just sounded like a cat dying. When he looked back at you, Jungkook checked you out one last time. His eyes stopping at the lone earbud that sat against your chest. For a moment, you thought he was actually staring at your breasts making your cheeks burn and your gaze to look anywhere else but at his smug face.

“Let me listen to your iPod there and back on this trip, and I'll let you sit with me.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

Jungkook did a lavish hand sweep at the window. The motion reminding you of the showgirls on The Price is Right, making you believe maybe he’d somehow watched it, and one too many times.

“You get to use your imagination while you look out the window.”

“No way. Joint custody.”

“Fine. Joint custody, but I get to pick the music the whole way. If you have shitty taste the deal's off.”

He stuck out his hand for you to shake and there was a moment, a minor second, that it felt like you were making a deal with the devil. However, the sound of Amber’s laughter practically had your hand bolting into Jungkook’s. You shook it harder than was necessary before dropping it and shooing him to move.

Jungkook removed his bag and cane from the seat. Your legs giving out moments later so you could plop down in it, only to be greeted by his outstretched hand. The smile that spread across his lips shining brighter than the mischief in his eyes.

“As per our agreement: the iPod.”

He wiggles his fingers and you wanted to smack him. Your own squeezing tighter against the metal until, reluctantly, you chose your fate by placing it into his hand. Jungkook didn’t seem to mind your current look of displeasure while you watched him begin to scroll through your assorted music collection.

At least the seat was warm.

The first few seconds were somehow more awkward than you thought possible. Eyes locked in a fifty-yard stare so intense a soldier would’ve been envious. The only movement you caught of him was from your peripherals. Jungkook’s thumbs picking up speed from the leisurely way he scanned through the artists you’d offered. And no you did not, whatsoever, happen to notice the way his bottom lip would dart inside his mouth just to be held gently between his teeth. All the while his eyes focused on the task in front of him.

Nope. You weren’t paying attention to him. Not even a little bit. So how he was able to make you jump twelve inches out of your skin, while you were most definitely not embarrassing yourself by gawking over a beautiful man, was beyond you.

“Ya!” Jungkook clicked his tongue in distaste. His hand wiggling the ipod in your direction, as if it had caused some great offense. “What is this?”

Your neck tiled as you regarded him like he’d grown two heads. You were also positive if your eyebrows knitted together any harder you’d end up with a unibrow.

“Ugh, a mystical device that plays music.”

The look on Jungkook’s face faltered from frustration to annoyance. It was so sudden it ended up sending a bark of laughter in his direction. And just like that, the annoyed look was back again.

“I mean, what the hell do you have on this thing. Who is The Dead Weather? City and Colour? Joji?”

“They are artists I enjoy.”

“They’re shit.”

You rushed to try and snatch it back from him. Jungkook’s reflexes proving to be faster than your growing urge to smack him.

“Excuse me, little miss,” he began. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He used his index finger to push gently against your forehead, but with the current level of irritation, he still proved faster than you. Your failed attempt to swat his hand away meeting only empty air. Earning you a smirk of smug satisfaction.

“I’m trying to get my things back.”

“That wasn’t part of our agreement.”

You tried one last time to take him by surprise. Your right hand shot out too hard to grab at the object clasped in his large hands. The momentum carried you forward to land shoulder first against his chest. Leg nudging against his with enough force that it caused his cane to move an inch. It took everything you had to keep your head down to hide your flaming cheeks.

“And now you’re assaulting me.”

If your eyes were capable of rolling back any father you might've seen brain cells.

“I was only trying to get my property back. Since the only thing that’s coming out of you is complaining.”

“I’m not complaining,” he snapped. “You’re acting like an Indian giver.”

“Is that all you know how to do: complain?” You continued, completely ignoring him. A slight smirk now etching your lips. Jungkook’s eyes flicking down to notice your amusement at his expense. “I believe they call it, ‘trying something new.’”

His eyes narrowed on you and for a split second your pulse began to race. Sure, the agitation on his face at your teasing was obvious, but you could’ve sworn...maybe...just maybe he was smirking. Could you have possibly been able to make him smile?

“I should make you go sit with Amber.”

The smugness in his voice and the cocky smile that joined it instantly made whatever fun you were having come to a complete halt. Jungkook was so pleased with himself he had the audacity to shimmy his shoulders like he’d already won. The rolls had reversed. It was your eyes turn to throw daggers in his direction.

“Now who's the Indian giver.”

Even though he played up on what he felt like was a win, you could tell he was not as amused. His non-injured leg bounced to an incredible rhythm that he could only hear. Probably a furious count to a hundred to keep himself from saying anything else to continue your usual thrilling conversations. So when he handed over one earbud, and the iPod, but placed the other into his ear, it was fair to say it left you baffled.

You were waiting so long for him to give an explanation, but all he did was continue to stare at you. It was starting to make your pulse race again. Why did he constantly have to feel so intense? Everything about him. Not even his current state made him seem any less notable. It just didn’t seem fair.

It wasn’t until he cleared his throat did you realize you’d been staring. For god knows how damn long.

“You gonna play something or not?” he asked.

His hand motioned towards the music while his fingers adjusted the earbud he’d kept.

“I’m so confused.”

“You look it,” he retorted, causing your earlier thoughts to remember, although handsome, he was an incredible pain in the ass.

“Ten seconds ago you complained about my music. Now you want me to play it for you.”

Jungkook turned his gaze away, his body relaxing back against the hard foam of the seat. His eyes still cast outside the window as if he was trying to find some way to escape.

“Either I can spend the next couple hours listening to you talk, or “try” out some new music. If I have a choice, I’ll pick the music please and thank you.”

Oh, how you wish you could’ve shoved him out that tiny window. But as much as you hated to admit it, Jungkook was right. Music was the only reasonable escape from possibly having either of you commit murder.

It was your turn to try and get comfortable. This time your thumb scanning down the list of artists until your eyes caught sight of one he’d mentioned. Without giving him warning you pressed play. The haunting melody of Joji’s “Dancing in the Dark,” flooded the earbuds. His voice melancholic as he began to sing a sad tale of not wanting to be the hidden second option.

The song choice was enough to finally get Jungkook to look back at you. Somehow already having enough with the song choice before it’d barely even reached the chorus.

“Just listen.”

It was the only advice you could give him, and hopefully the reassurance you’d tried to ease into your tone was enough. Whether it was or not, by the time the chorus began he seemingly relaxed again into the seat. His arms moving to cross lazily against his chest. He seemed to actually be taking in the song while he watched out the window. The passing of the steel and concrete that was Seoul into the rural areas of green and forest.

The music itself was calming. It was enough to let yourself fully relax back against it and close your eyes. With your eyes closed you could easily fade out the sounds of the sporadic conversations on the bus. Even though you only had one ear bud, all you needed was to concentrate on the music to drown out the world.

It took a few seconds for you to be pulled into a Joji’s song about terrible longing and being left behind by a lover. I mean, you didn’t really know too much about the latter, but hey, a girl could daydream. His voice was seconds away from heading into the second verse of the chorus, when you heard the sound of the melody being lightly sung beside you.

The voice was beautiful. The most startling part, not the fact of its softness, or the way it swelled in perfect harmony with the song, was that it came from Jungkook. Your eyes flung open with your head snapping to gaze at his serene expression. He continued to face the window, daylight playing along the profile of his face, and his gentle voice singing perfectly in tune.

It wasn’t loud enough that anyone else could’ve heard it over the dozens of bursting conversations being spoken throughout the bus. That the only conclusion you could come up with to why he would be singing at all. He thought no one would be able to pay attention. You probably would’ve stayed gawking at him if his eyes fluttering open didn’t send you crashing back against the seat and clutching your eyes shut. You needed to pretend you hadn’t noticed. Or else he would stop. He would hide this part of himself that showed he was more than what he tried to portray.

You didn’t have to open your eyes to know he was glancing in your direction. To see his eyes gaze over you with suspicion before settling back and listening to the next track. Khalid’s intro of “Talk,” beginning to play into your earbud.

You spent the rest of the trip staying beside him, close as you could get without looking creepy, just to hear him gently sing. He breathed a gentle version of each one he knew, or came to like, and made it his own. Even being a few times were his nerves got the better of him. His voice rising ever slightly when he drew too deep into the song. He would quiet after each outburst, but to your pleasure Jungkook would start back up moments later.

After all the bickering, you could definitely say the trade was worth it. You were so taken with listening to him that when the bus came to a stop, you didn’t realize it until your earbud was yanked from your ears. Your eyes heavy from sleep fluttered open and closed a few times before they focused on Jungkook’s face.

“Ya, didn’t you hear them call us off the bus?”

Your response came in the form of slow blinks and a mouth half-hung open. You wished more for a nap than going out to explore a farm, but your limbs were screaming to be stretched. You went to answer him when, instead, Jungkook grabbed his bag, cane, and started to try and scoot over you.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Trying to get by! So excuse me!”

His backside rubbed against your arms and, to your horror, your chest. Without thinking, your hand lashed out to smack across his bottom causing both of you to go as still as the dead. Your heart was thundering as you looked at your hand like it’d just finished committing murder. Maybe it had. But the only person it’d murdered was you with your eyes roaming up to see a shocked Jungkook gawking down at you over his shoulder.

“Did you really just smack my ass.”

“It was an accident!”

“An accident?” He questioned.

“Self-defense!”

Jungkook tried to hide the amusement your no doubt panicking was causing him. His mouth struggling to keep the frown that was tilting ever so slightly at the top of his lips.

“If anything needed to be defended, it was my honor. Over here just smacking people’s ass’s without a warning.”

You knew by now your face looked like a fire hydrant.

“Self-defense from you dragging your ass all over me! I’m not a seat, ya know.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

This time Jungkook didn’t try to hide his smile. To your surprise, it wasn’t a malicious one that showed he enjoyed your embarrassment. No. This one decorated his face in something softer that made your heart thunder to a different rhythm entirely.

“Oh, look you guys. Shit Stain and The Cripple are flirting.”

Amber’s grating voice was one you’d grown painstakingly accustomed too. The sinister way she spoke impossibly loud just so everyone was forced to hear her. Whether they wanted to or not. You were used to her coldness and the constant way she harassed you. What you weren’t so used to, was having Jungkook as part of the punchline.

Immediately, you felt his legs tense where they touched you. The muscles ramrod straight and flexing under the skin. The lighthearted tone you’d heard seconds before in your banter was now replaced with an aloofness that made you stiffen in your seat. Jungkook’s jaw held tight as he regarded Amber as if she were no more than a pest buzzing at his ear.

“Ya, fix your nose before you bother talking to me. I can see half the planet up there.”

Amber’s eyes flashed hellfire as she glowered over her shoulders to stop the giggling that ensued. When all grew quiet enough to where she felt like she would be heard, a harsh smile spread her lips. Her legs began to take a step to move away from the two peasants who’d held enough of her attention.

“Whatever, Cripple. Try not to get your stick in any holes.”

She was passing the front of your shared seat when, suddenly, Amber’s legs gave way. A tumbling mess of shrieks, bleached hair, and her arms flapping rapidly a solid indication of her mysterious attempt at taking flight. The only thing that moved to catch her was her face. The minute the laughter began to bubble up inside you, you quickly placed a hand over your mouth. Least the she-devil hear it escape.

You took a second to inspect what could’ve possibly taken down the ice queen. Even when she wore ridiculously high heels, Amber walked with a grace you knew you’d never pull off. Not without looking like a newborn giraffe, that is. Glancing down you noticed Jungkook’s cane strategically placed right where her foot would’ve landed. The culprit in making Amber a freshly minted carpet on the bus’s floor. Somewhere on the bus you knew she was up from her tumble and huffing a few choice words. You were sure she knew, just like you did, that Jungkook was the one who’d done it. You paid no attention to her tantrum and kept a transfixed gaze on him.

He’d finished scooting the rest of the way to get to the middle of the bus and was situating his cane and shoulder bag. His hand suddenly reaching down into view and patiently waiting for you to take it.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s go.”

You knew you looked like a fool. Your eyes mirroring the thousands of silent questions that threatened to make you ill. A part of you hoping he understood your dumbfounded look simply begged him to find some way to answer you. You’d stared starry-eyed up at him for so long you half expected the patience of Jungkook’s open hand to fall flat. Instead, he continued to surprise you. His gaze gentle, and hand openly waiting for you to take it when you were ready.

With eyes wide and mouth agape, your body rejected your stunned silence and placed a small hand in his. His own quickly enveloped yours perfectly and gave you the added support you needed to find stable footing beside him. Jungkook finally looked away from you to stare at the remaining goons.

The moment you stood beside him you became painfully aware of the noticeable height difference. Your gaze moving up inch-by-inch until your eyes were locked onto his face. The stubbornness of a hard set jaw and eyes that dared anyone to speak enough to make your heartbeat pick up in your chest. When he appeared to be finished making sure his presence was known, Jungkook’s eyes turned back to you. A silent request of reassurance to know you were alright making you answer with a quick nod.

Your cheeks blushed furiously as you struggled to look away from his gaze. No longer were you so worried about Amber; your mind trapped on a repeat of questions. Did Jungkook always smell like Calvin Klein cologne? Could it be considered weird how you felt undeniable comfort pressed up against him? Or really weird if in your head you suddenly imagined recreating this scene a million times later with you being braver beside him, instead of being the damsel in distress.

He didn’t seem at all perplexed with your case of sudden shyness. His strong legs pulling you both forward and past the horde of Amber and her lackeys without missing a step. His head held high while the other hand helped him keep his balance without using his cane. For the small world that was high school, Jungkook showed them he was still that once popular boy who was known for not taking shit from no one. A demi-god amongst mere mortals that were somehow honored by his presence.

And here you were. So close to the orbit of his sun and walking away unscathed.

Your train of rushing thoughts kept you from paying attention. It was something you soon were going to regret when he led you off the steps of the bus and onto the dirt road. Jungkook’s exit was obviously graceful while yours in comparison was a train wreck. Instead of your feet stepping off the last step and landing like a normal person, you lost your footing. Your clumsy feet sending you struggling to find a balance with the earth before you crash landed on the floor. Luckily, Jungkook’s back was there to catch you.

The momentum of your fall sent his feet skittering to correct you both before you fell into the dirt. A few choice cuss words leaving his lips and crimson flaring up on your cheeks to make the dance of falling even more entertaining. You could practically hear the cackling of the witches echoing out of the bus like a cave.

Jungkook made quick work of righting you both; his good leg furiously hoping to support the weak one. His cane dug into the earth a good inch to add some more stabilization. You let go of his hand and moved away from his side where you’d previously been planted. You weren’t worthy of being there. This boy who saw your distress and helped you. Only for you to ruin it in the process.

“Well that’s one way to ruin an exit,” he huffed.

He glanced in your direction and you could’ve sworn he was smiling. Or was that a smirk? Whatever it was, it was quickly washed away as his eyes took you in. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry!”

Your words rushed from your lips with your back snapping to bow a perfect ninety-degrees. Your hair a curtain to try and hide your embarrassment.

“Ugh...for what?”

“For bumping into you like that. I should’ve been paying attention.”

A soft laugh bounced from between his lips and you were willing to beat his face lit up like pure sunshine. You moved to stand upright just in time to see you were right. Jungkook was either oblivious to the way you were looking at him, or was simply unfazed. His shoulder hiking the backpack where it’d begun to fall as he adjusted himself to get ready to move to join the rest of the class up ahead.

“You did ruin one hell of a stylish exit.”

“I don’t know how stylish you can be stepping off of a school bus, but...thank you.”

The both of you locked eyes with one another. A large part of you hoped Jungkook was able to see the sincerity or at least hear it. Maybe he wasn’t that much of a pain in the ass after all. That soft smirk you’d grown accustomed to etched back on his lips as he took the first step towards your waiting classmates.

“No problem. Plus, I figured I owed you for letting me listen to your music.”

You felt your brow shoot up in mock surprise. Your legs falling into step beside him.

“I thought you said I had terrible taste.”

“I never said terrible,” Jungkook corrected. His eyes danced with a playfulness that lifted a smile to your lips

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“Well, it wasn’t the greatest, but thank you. I actually ended up liking most of it, at least.”

“Oh, what a sweet way of insulting my musical taste.”

“Hey! I said I liked most of it. It’s like a win-win. Kinda.”

You wanted to be snappy. Give him some more hell for always playing up on being a condescending moody jerk. In reality, walking next to Jungkook while the silence swelled around you without the awkward pressure; you knew that wasn’t all of him. He’d proven how sweet he could be at the memory of how easily you’d felt protected by a simple stretch of a hand. The look in his eyes while he waited for you to take his extended hand a plea to know you could trust him. Strangely, a part of you already felt like you could.

You snuck a look over in Jungkook’s direction, and felt a smile begin to sweep up the corners of your lips. It was a different, but nice, change to have someone come to your defense. Yeah, most of the time you wanted to throttle him for seeming like he could care less. In that moment, however, he cared enough to help. That had to mean something.

“You’re welcome.”

You hoped your words conveyed the gratitude you felt in that moment. Prayed that Jungkook could hear it. When he looked at you, you made sure to give him a quick smile before you looked away. Your eyes struggled not to look back at him; to tell him all the things that were racing through your head. It took every ounce of your will to stay focused on the group of classmates that were growing closer. Somewhere along the way, you’d hoped Jungkook would’ve replied with his usual smart ass remarks. It worried you how sad a small part of you felt at his silence.

Now, you worried maybe you were going a little nuts.

Instead, you came to the edge of the group in silence. Your ears struggling to grasp on to the middle of what your teacher gave out for instructions for the day.

So what if that insane part of you didn’t receive a smart ass remark in return for your gratitude. You were more than happy with the fact Jungkook stayed by your side. The close proximity just enough to convey what you were both feeling without unnecessary words.

______________

For the past hour the farmer -Kim Sejung - had shown the class around his vast property. The beginning of this magical tour starting with where he manufactured the tofu once it was fermented then sent down to be processed for packaging. He was a man who took immense pride in his work. The next room where the fermentation took place and, his overeager explanation, spelled out how devoted he was to his craft.

The whole entire backwards presentation was something your teacher decided became a chance for everyone to write down everything you’d been shown. A punishment you knew was coming when Kim Sejung lost half the class to their own conversations long before you’d hit the second part of his speech.

Now, anyone could be wondering why all of you were taking the longest stroll of your life out in the middle of the farm. A fair question you’d been asking yourself since you realized your shoes were completely covered in mud. You’d been trying to understand why this hadn’t been the first place Kim Sejung would’ve taken all of you. Your only guess being he just enjoyed showing the process backwards. Or maybe he was secretly a mastermind at torture. It was the only logical conclusion you could come up with at having the entire class now out in the muddy acres of his farm.

And sure, maybe your attention was being sent over your shoulder every five seconds. A certain boy with exhaustion creased in his brow making it harder for you to ignore. You were looking back so often you felt like you’d end up with whiplash at any minute. Really, it was all Jungkook’ fault for causing you to worry; becoming painfully aware with each glance at Jungkook’s struggling frame.

How Sejung -, or anyone else for that matter, hadn’t noticed he was falling further behind the group with every step left you completely perplexed. You’d gave up listening to whatever the farmer or teacher talked about or what questions they were throwing around. You could bet it had to do about soil.

If everyone else could ignore him why couldn’t you? It’s not that you hadn’t tried, cause of course you’d done exactly that. Your bottom lip now held a semi-permanent indent from your teeth. Whenever you felt that tick in your neck to look back to check on him: you bit down. When you felt like drawing attention to him by saying something: you bit down. A part of you willing to bet Jungkook would never forgive you if you did.

Your solution? It was ingenious, really.

You fell back behind every classmate. Patiently, you waited for everyone to pass you up. Your feet dragging in the muddy dirt until you were sure no one would notice when you inevitably stopped.

With a soft count of three under your breath, you came to a halt at the back of the group. Your small count continued for another round before you were comfortable with the distance it’d placed between the group, Jungkook, and yourself.

You let out a huff of satisfaction as you turned around to give Jungkook your complete attention. Your neck thanking you for the small favor. What you found, however, greeting you was far from what you’d hoped to find.

Jungkook’s current location became a solid five feet behind the group. His feet finally coming to the large puddle of mud that you and the class had easily maneuvered Jungkook had not. His struggle coming to a standstill at the muddy puddles edge. Jungkook’s face etched itself in harsh determination to no doubt allow him from moving forward. You told yourself you would stay back and wait for him.

Just wait, You kept telling yourself over and over. A broken record having nothing on what you felt capable of standing there. Your pulse bonding in your veins and feet bouncing with anxiety as he assessed his options. All you were supposed to do was hang back to walk with him. That was it. You weren’t his nanny. You knew how he felt about being pitied, and yet, when he took his first tentative step out into the mud and his cane sunk deep and his bad leg followed suit, your feet deceived you.

It appeared Mother Nature had her own way of pushing you past your reserved good intentions. Your feet sprinted forward fast enough that you were embarrassed at their quickness. The expected movement bringing Jungkook’s frustrated gaze up from his current dilemma to you.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?”

The annoyance held in his question didn’t go unnoticed by you. If it was you in his position, you’d be annoyed seeing you standing there too and not offering to help.

“I came to help you.”

The words just streamed out with your running thoughts. Your feet willing to move forward back into the mud to help him. Jungkook noticeably began to struggle to remove his foot that submerged quickly underneath.

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

“You didn’t have too, Jungkook. I want to help.”

“Let me rephrase myself.” His irritation was pure fire in his eyes as his words hurled in your direction. “I didn’t ask for it and I don’t want it.”

You wish you could say you handled his dismissal with grace. That you understood he was only being a jerk because he was embarrassed and angry at his current predicament. You really wanted to be that bigger person. Well...that most definitely wasn’t what happened.

Your eyes narrowed in on him. Your previous desire to help evaporated as you watched his leg sink deeper. His other foot soon joined the first in a poorly calculated attempt to release the other. Your arms crossed over your chest as you took in the scene before you.

“Well, Jungkook, I’m not sure if you noticed but you’re slowly heading towards being buried under that mud.”

“Thank you for that astute observation. Anything else you’d like to add?”

“Why are you being such an asshole?!” you snapped.

Your arms came loose down at your side and turned to clenched fists. You weren’t exactly sure what you expected his reaction to be. You knew Jungkook held a hatred for being pitied. Hell, you would too if it was the other way around. You knew he wasn’t helpless, but you also knew he couldn’t do everything alone. No one could. So what was so wrong with offering to help him?

You weren’t sure how you looked. Maybe crazy? Or did the desperation of not knowing how to handle the situation have you appear sad? Whatever it was Jungkook saw, it was enough to look away. His eyes dropping down to his covered feet.

The space between the two of you swelled with tension. His hair perfectly covering his face, and kept you from being able to steal any glance. It was enough to make you unsure if you should prepare yourself for a verbal battle with him or if you should simply walk away. What if you’d made a mistake thinking Jungkook would want to be bothered at all with help. Especially from you.

“God, this is embarrassing.”

His words were so light you weren’t sure at first if he’d spoken. A part of you wondering if you’d made up the sound of his voice as Jungkook’s face continued to be hidden by layers of hair. But, lord help you, you knew you weren’t imagining things. The sound of his voice is something you’d come to recognize with ease. You knew without a doubt it most definitely was him. And the sadness that reverberated from his words made your anger dissipate instantly.

“What?”

Could you have picked a stupider response? When Jungkook lifted his head up to look at you, you knew he silently agreed.

“It’s embarrassing!” His hands motioned to take in his current predicament. The hurt shown on his proud features made your heart ache to comfort him. “How pitiful can I get? It’s so damn frustrating! The cripple unable to get himself out of some stupid mud.”

“Jungkook, you are literally the least pitiful person I’ve ever met.”

“And yet, it doesn’t make me any less stuck.”

You took a step forward and began to try and edge around what you could of the puddle. You knew there was no way you weren’t getting more mud on your shoes, but the purpose was worth it.

“Why didn’t you just go around it?” Your question earned you a dead stare. One that reminded you of your mother when she felt like you’d asked the silliest question. You held your hands up in surrender and said, “Hey. It’s a fair question.”

“If I just go around it, it proves that I can’t do the simplest thing, Y/N. It proves…”

“That you aren’t like everybody else,” you finished for him.

You could’ve kicked yourself. How could you not have noticed it sooner. Jungkook just wanted to prove to himself that he could still do things like he did before his accident. Because even though he showed people bringing up his disability didn’t bother him, it did. He still hadn’t come to terms with what happened, and believed the current state of his leg deemed him less worthy.

He looked away from whatever he saw in your eyes. His own fighting not to show the sadness that threatened to spill down his cheeks.

“You aren’t like everyone else, Jungkook.” Your words tore his head back in your direction. His shoulders quickly squared up to take whatever verbal blow you were about to hurl in his direction. You were happy to convince him otherwise.

“You don’t need to prove anything to a single person. Yeah, you aren’t a hundred percent who you used to be, but it doesn’t make you any less you. You aren’t defined by a damn leg and if another human being does treat you differently because of it: fuck’em. Now, get your shit together and hand me the end of your cane.”

The both of you stared at one another for what felt like an eternity. Jungkook’s face unreadable as his eyes took you in making you squirm just the slightest bit. Whether he was looking for a hint that you were deceiving him; that something hurtful laid underneath, he wouldn’t find it. You made sure with your hand this time open and waiting for him, that he could see just how much you meant what you said.

After what felt like a baby size eternity, Jungkook answered you in a way you’d grown to expect. In one swift motion, he picked his cane out from the mud and placed it, dirty end first into your waiting hand. Your face scrunched up in disgust, as the leftover mud squished between your fingers. The action enough to break the coldness of Jungkook’s blank expression into the smirk that was all too familiar.

“Oh my god! You would do that.”

The amusement on his face was enough to tell you he’d most definitely done it on purpose. Of course, you’d already known that. You didn’t need his raised eyebrow or that devilish smirk to inform you of that.

“Oh, so you think you know me now.”

“I know enough to know, without a doubt, this is something you’d do. Brat.”

You saved the last word for good measure and it was met with a bark of surprise laughter. His reaction was not something you’d expected, but a welcomed one as his face instantly lit up brighter than you’d ever seen. Jungkook’s laughter and smile was genuine and good god, was it breathtakingly adorable.

Who knew calling him a brat led to so many heart stopping possibilities? Like no longer having a permanent scowl.

“Alright smart ass, how about we settle this for when I’m not stuck in the mud.”

“You got yourself a deal. Only if you stop pouting.”

“I was not pouting!”

It was your turn to laugh wholeheartedly while your other hand moved to secure itself to his cane. There was no way you’d be letting it slip free from you. Mud or no mud.

“Tomato potato: pouting is pouting.”

Jungkook’s head tilted to the side. His brain noticeably trying to comprehend what it was you just said.

“That makes absolutely no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense, Jungkook now grab a hold of yo-“

Honestly, you should’ve seen this coming. He’d already given you a muddy end of a cane. It was the perfect foreshadowing moment that was leading up to this, and yet, somehow you were surprised when he pulled with full force. You figured he was strong - not freakishly. Not enough to send you flying face first toward the large mud puddle with the sound of a squeaking bird of surprise that you could only assume was yourself.

The only thing that kept you from going face first was a split second decision to ruin just the lower half of your outfit.

The impact with the mud was squishy and came with the weirdest sound effects that reminded you of pushing your hand into a container of slim. God, was it squishy. An immediate, “Ewww,” dragging out from your lips as your hands lifted up from where they’d been buried. Your eyes taking in the full extent of your lower half now resembles the Swamp Thing.

Jungkook’s laughter brought you back to reality and flinging what was left of the mud on your hands in his direction. It only earned you another bark of laughter.

“What in the hell was that for?!”

“Now whose pouting?” He teased.

You wanted to hit him but you knew you couldn’t reach. So you settled for flinging another round of mud.

“Are you kidding me? You pulled me in here cause I said you were pouting!”

“Yup.”

“Unbelievable. You’re a child.”

“I thought you said brat?”

“That too! Ugh! Jungkook! You’re such a pain in the ass. I’m not helping you anymore.”

You moved to try and pull up one leg and found it way more difficult than you’d imagined. Seriously, was this shit superglue? No matter how many times you struggled to pull up either leg it wouldn’t budge; producing an agitated groan to seep from your body.

You wanted to murder him.

When you glanced up at him at least Jungkook had the decency to appear worried.

“Do you need help? I didn’t think it’d be so hard for you to pull yourself up.”

“Oh, so you’re worried about me not being able to pull myself up, but not about me covered in mud.”

The shrug Jungkook gave as an answer made you want to throttle him. You wanted to tell him to shove his help up his ass. Realistically, however, you knew there was no way you were getting unstuck without getting dirtier from crawling around. For a second time, his hand appeared, like magic, in front of you.

Your eyes trailed up his hand to that devilish grin of his and found your earlier agitation disintegrate. What you hated the most, was how his eyes lit up to match his smile. This warm version of Jungkook wasn’t someone you were used to. You’d seen the cocky jock who knew he was good at everything. Experienced the real asshole Jungkook that made you want to rip out chunks of hair. But this side of him...was worth a heartache or two.

Without another thought you reached out and took his hand and allowed him to start lifting you up. It wasn’t until you were half way you came up with your own plan. A devilish grin of your own spreading your lips wide as the idea grew into something worth doing .

Jungkook had a moment to be confused before your free hand shot out and took fierce hold of his forearm. You made sure it was locked in place before your body went completely limp, and sent his body into an unbalanced mess.

“The fu-!”

Jungkook’s descent, at first, made you feel like you’d accomplished a victory. One you didn’t get to relish in for long. Jungkook may not have been able to finish his earlier sentence, but you easily made up for it. A softened, “Fuck!” came pressed from your chest as he landed sideways on top of you. The angle reminded you of an awkward pair of scissors: if one part of the scissors was ridiculously muscled for a student.

You’d had little time to move your hands up to brace yourself against his weight. The air from your lungs whooshing out in laughter with your body struggling to recover from underneath him. And no, no you weren’t painfully aware that your hands could feel every well lined muscle under the fabric of his t-shirt. And no, you were not blushing. Not even a little.

You were sure when Jungkook lifted his head up to look in your direction, he’d see the sinful glee you took in your awkward positioning. Instead, your lungs erupted into laughter. One side of his face perfectly smeared with mud making one eye remain closed and his right doing most of the work. He looked ridiculous...and cute.

“You think this is funny?”

“I think-I think it’s the best thing I’m going to see all day.”

It took a few tries to speak through your laughter, but when you finally got the words out you couldn’t have been more proud. Jungkook on the other hand, seemed to struggle to keep the annoyance on his face. The first sign of a smile cracking into the mud that began to dry on his face.

Jungkook moved to prop himself up - the action giving you the room you needed to wiggle out from underneath him. You were about to call it a success, a retort to an unspoken comment he’d yet to make. All of it came crashing down, however, when Jungkook’s mud covered hand rose from the depths and placed a long streak down your nose with his thumb giving an artistic sweep across your cheek.

The marks he gave reminded you of those old western movies you’d seen. Warpaint covered faces of men getting ready to square off to defend their home from invaders. The thought seemed to match perfectly with the beat of your heart thundering like a drum inside your chest.

It wasn’t just because Jungkook touched you - on purpose - in a playful way. It had nothing to do with the fact his muddy hand was currently resting against your cheek. Or from the denial that it brought out a spark of mischievous happiness to ignite inside you as your mouth fell open to expose the sound of laughter. No, your heart pounded against your chest purely for the look that passed behind chocolate eyes and the soft smile that followed close behind.

So, sure. In that instance it could’ve just been a plan old look. You weren’t a hundred percent sure it wasn’t more than just a look though, either. There was that one boy in first grade, however, who did give you an aggressive teeth-clacking peck on the lips during recess, but this was completely different.

And because you were so uncertain of what it all meant, your only reaction was to lift your hand up from beside you and slam it palm first against his face.

Jungkook’s face lit up in shock and you couldn’t stop the eruption of laughter that spilled from your lips. It was an immediate rush of joy at seeing his handsome face marked by your small muddy handprint that streaked itself across the plains of his face. Normally, you’d be mortified: waiting patiently to be scolded and made to feel small. Instead, the shock wore off his face in an instant. Jungkook’s eyes lighting up with childlike excitement as a giddy, “Oh yeah?” rushed between his lips.

You didn’t have a chance to wonder what he meant before he reached into the mud and brought up a snowball version of the earth.

“Oh, no you don’t!”

Your eyes went wide and frantic giggles exploded free as your body struggled in vain to get out from under him. The previous joy of being pinned by his weight dissipating when that large mud ball found its new home smeared on top of your head.

“Jungkook-ah!”

His own laughter rose up around you as your body began to move in earnest to get out from under him. When you finally realized it was pointless, another bright idea overtook you. If Jungkook noticed the renewed mischievous glint in your eye, he didn’t show it.

He continued to smile obliviously down at you until the two fist fulls of mud you’d taken in both hands came crashing down on top of his head. It didn’t matter that your face caught some of the aftermath: the face he made was priceless.

You didn’t get a chance to enjoy your tiny victory before the two of you were a mess of arms and limbs rolling feverishly around; the two of you playfully wrestling for dominance. The mixture of your laughter rising up until you weren’t sure where Jungkook’s ended and yours began. By the end of it, you were both resembling the pigs you’d seen earlier on the farm. Bodies fully covered in wet earth and lounging beside each other in exhaustion. Every few moments random fits of giggles overtaking the two of you until you realized you both needed to get back.

This time, instead of the two of you refusing help from the other, you eagerly took it. The both of you worked together to reach the edge of the mud pit and, without further incident, pulled each other out.

The walk back to the main barn was done in silence. In other circumstances, you would’ve been consumed with a need to fill it. The impending weight of anxiety would’ve flared across your skin until you would’ve blurted out anything. Small talk was never one of your strong suits, but a comfortable banter had somehow formed between the two of you. You knew if you started talking, Jungkook would respond. It was still a fifty-fifty on whether or not it would be a smart ass response or a real one, but a response nonetheless.

You didn’t try to start a conversation. You chose to enjoy the reassurance that he was beside you. Your mind running through what exactly just happened and how you both ended up looking like bad impression art. You’d spent so much time stealing glances in his direction that you could’ve sworn you caught him doing the same. But who were you kidding. No one had stolen glances at you since middle school, and that was only to steal the answers off tests.

There was no way Jeon Jungkook would be the one to break that trend. No matter how flattering the thought. So when you felt that knowable itch of being watched you found yourself surprised that Jungkook was indeed staring at you.

“Are you cold?”

Jungkook’s question jolted you from your train of thought and sent you reeling into another. He was closer to you now. Close like you’d been while sitting on the bus with your shoulders brushing with every movement. Every bump helplessly sending you lightly banging into the other.

On the bus you could easily play it off as something out of your control. But now? Now there was no good explanation that you could find to why Jungkook decided to walk so closely beside you. There was no way to explain away the way his gaze drew across your face like he’d save it to memory.

“Well I am covered in freezing mud water.”

You’d tried for sarcasm but your voice barely carried over a whisper. It made Jungkook’s head subconsciously dip lower just to hear you. The devilish smirk he was infamous for spread like wildfire across his lips.

“I would offer you my jacket, since it’s the gentlemanly thing to do, but you see some crazy person pushed me into the mud.”

A scoff escaped you as your hand playfully whipped out to slap his shoulder.

“Ya, Jungkook! You? A gentleman? That’s funny. What is also funny is the fact you got yourself stuck in the mud first. I just came to rescue you.”

“Rescue me?” He asked with an eyebrow coyly cocked.

“I’m like your knight in shining armor.”

A throaty laugh came from between his lips; sending his head back exposing his face to the sun. You were mesmerized watching him as the sun kissed down across his face and weren’t at all ashamed at being caught watching as he brought his attention back to you. A smile of your own growing to match the one he wore along with your mind fluttering in wonder of how he was even real.

“If you’re my knight, Y/N I’m in a lot of trouble.”

You feigned hurt but couldn’t hide the grin happily splayed on your face and, crazy thing was, you didn’t want to. It felt impossible that the two of you were so giddy with each other. A strange familiarity brewed heavily between you to the point it felt like the two of you joked like this for years.

Jungkook’s own smile enough to warm the chill that began to creep up your arms to expose goosebumps on your skin. The two of you fell into a shroud of companionable silence and continued to make your way back to the main entrance of the farm. Your heart skipping a helpless beat every time you feel Jungkook’s fingers graze across yours. Your mind hopelessly wanting to believe maybe, just maybe, he was tempted to reach out and hold it.

You came back to the main farm and found your teacher and classmates impatiently waiting. The immediate shock your teacher showed at your appearance seemed to grow more intense until he came storming over: hysterical at your current condition.

“What on earth have the two of you been doing?!”

“They’ve been rolling around with pigs.”

You knew that tart voice anywhere and wasn’t surprised it was Amber that spoke. What did surprise you was how much you didn’t care with Jungkook standing like an equally filthy calm current by your side.

“We’re sorry, seonsaegnim,” Jungkook began coolly with a bow. When he realized you were still standing a hand shot out to the back of your head to bring it down. You quickly slapped it away but kept yourself in a bow. “We got lost from the group and found ourselves stuck in a giant mud pit.”

“It seems to me like you were playing in it,” the farmer chuckled. “I could hose them off before they get back on the bus.”

His offer left heat rising to your cheeks. The sound of a sea of giggles making your stomach ache in embarrassment. You used the curtain of your hair to hide and hoped they’d come up with a different suggestion, but with a small shrug of his shoulder, Jungkook brought your heated attention back to him. A soft smile cracking the now dry handprint you’d left across his cheek.

It was ridiculous. You both looked ridiculous, and yet, he was still handsome. You probably looked like a troll.

“Hey Knight in shining armor,” he whispered. “It seems we get to take a bath together.”

The sun couldn’t be anywhere near as hot as your face felt. The heat spread from red cheeks and down your neck until the butterflies in your stomach were out of control. Jungkook knew what he had done. He could see it plainly on your face and he loved it.

You, on the other hand, wanted to hit him.

And just like divine intervention your teacher did it for you. His curled up pamphlet struck down on top of Jungkook’s head, but it only made his smile grow impossibly larger.

“Ya! I don’t think so! We’ll have you go one at a time to clean up. I’ll look for something for you both to change into.”

Jungkook went first to be hosed down. The farmer actually allowed him to have his privacy so he could get into his more...private areas in peace. The clothes that were found for both of you to wear were old gym clothes thrown in a box in the storage bay at the bottom of the bus. You imagined they must have been thrown there for a reason. The colors were sad and faded down to a color that resembled the mud you’d fallen in. An even sadder rim of yellow wrapped around the sleeves the only hope of color in the terrible outfit you were now forced to wear. At least it was warm with the added bonus Jungkook somehow ended up with the shortest shorts in the box.

After the two of you dried off and changed you were shepherded onto the bus. The place that held Amber and her minions now vacant due to the teacher demanding you sit exactly in the far back in their spot. He must have imagined it would be like putting two naughty kids in time out. The only effect it really had was giving you the chance to breathe and enjoy the solitude.

Jungkook dug around for your earbuds inside your bag. Finally finding the small container and lifting it open. His fingers pulling out the left and surprising you by placing it gently in your ear. Your face must have shown this but Jungkook paid you no mind. He was busy placing the other bud into his ear; flipping the case shut and throwing it back inside to forever be lost until you practically tipped out your bag to locate it again. Oh well. A problem for another time.

“Put on something for the ride home, Y/N. I trust you to be dj again.”

You wanted to tease him. To joke about putting on the YMCA or Macarena . The only thing that stopped you was the relaxed features of Jungkook’s face. The lazy way his neck rested back against the seat and his head languidly gazing in your direction. You tried to squish back all the butterflies that look gave you and a hushed, “Alright. Lady Marmalade it is,” embarrassingly came from between your lips.

Your eyes were too focused on your music list. You didn’t allow them to look as he chuckled beside you. The sound light and rough all at once - demanding you give it attention.

“Don’t make me regret it,” he joked.

You kept scrolling until you found Deans’ “D (Half Moon)”. The soft piano and tone of his voice quickly filled the ear buds and by the soft hum of the voice beside you, you knew you’d pick a good one.

You allowed yourself to relax beside him. Your right hand placing the playlist down between the two of you. Your body was so relaxed you didn’t think about moving your hand anywhere else. Your eyes falling comfortably closed as you continue to listen to the acoustics of the song and the even softer, and equally pleasurable, song of Jungkook singing along.

When his left hand found its way down beside yours, you didn’t question his reasoning. The music held between the two of you and maybe he wanted to change the playlist. You let your mind continue to think that even after his finger gingerly grazed yours and found a home beside them. Both of your hands stayed this way the entire ride back to campus. Neither of you moved to change positions; lost to the sounds of the melodies of the playlist.

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kirschteinsj · 4 years

Text

Pinky Promises

Nanami x fem! reader

Warnings: nothing too much! maybe language but overall just a bunch of fluff and lovey dovey stuff

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: Domestic Nanami and reader, just thinking about how much they love each other. sappy and cute stuff.

A/N: Hi! ^_^ Second time posting, I’ve had this one shot saved for a bit now! finally posting it lolz. I've noticed a lot of people have written domestic Nanami pics or drawn art, very glad society as a whole has this perception of him. it truly heals the soul I think. anyway, I hope u like this and sorry if there’s any grammar errors I wasnt able to catch U_U im thinking of doing a hc post next.... unsure hm, we’ll see ^_^!!

“I’m hooooome.” He says loudly as he steps through the apartment door, setting his briefcase down and taking off his beige coat. Putting down the grand kitchen knife she was using to chop up spinach, she rushed to the door with a smile and engulfed the tall blonde into a tight hug, saying hello. She took a deep breath, inhaling the soft scent of his cologne, the smell of something sour and musty soon taking over. Her face scrunched up and she let out a giggle.

“Oh god, Nanami, you stink, what did you go against today?”

“Nothing too bad. Just a grade 3,” He sighed “A smelly grade 3.” He sounded disappointed, probably because he knew he stunk too. Though the smell was horrendous, she still remained in his arms and he still held on just as tight.

“Are you tired? I was thinking of making dinner with you tonight but if you’re too tired I can-”

“No no. I’m fine. Just let me wash up and I’ll help out.”

“You sure?” She asked looking up towards him, questioning once more to reassure. He looked down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

“I’m sure, dear.”

While he showers upstairs, she gets back to readying the ingredients so they could begin cooking their masterpiece as soon as possible. Tonight she had chosen chicken alfredo with a tossed salad; One could say it was her favourite, but saying that would imply that she would eat it when cooked and served by whomever. But to her, she would only eat it when it was him who had made it for her.

Y/n adored him. He adored her. To her, he was her light. She could simply not imagine life without him, not after he had come in and changed her in such a way. She never in a million years would have thought to be so in love with someone. To have known someone who cared enough to hear all about her day or listen to all her tangents, whether they made sense or not. Who listened to her talk forever about anything just so he could see the faint glow of passion in her eyes. Someone who remembered the small details in regards to the things she loved and the things she despised; Like how she hated the feeling of peanut butter on her fingers and how she absolutely admired the scent of fresh pages in a new book. Sometimes, she felt undeserving of him.

He admired her like no other. Never did he believe he’d be capable of opening up to anyone in such a way, at least not until she walked into his life. He could write a million lists, all full of everything he loved about her. The way she smiled cheekily at him after a witty remark, how she'd give every hug as if it was the last, the way she was oh so patient with him. It took him time to become vulnerable in the slightest, he just didn’t know how to do so without burdening her. She knew his job was hard, he’d told her. But rather than running away like he expected, she stayed with him right by his side. She refused to leave him over that. If anything, it made her want to stay more since she felt the need to be there for him. It felt like a punch to the gut but a good one. “So, is this love?” He had asked himself then. Nanami had someone who brought out the much more joyful side to him. At the end of the day, he knew he’d walk through the front door only to see her, arms wide open and with a big smile offering a cozy hug. She was his home. Sometimes, he felt undeserving of her.

Putting the final piece of broccoli into the container, she tidies any clutter and went back to their shared bedroom. Sinking into the bed and falling on it with a plush thump, she lets out a deep sigh mixed with some sort of a groan. She herself was exhausted from work too to say the least. She didn’t deal with curses or anything like that, but she did teach a class of 9 year olds which one could consider just as frustrating. Yawning, she checks her phone to read the time: 6:15 PM. Nanami hadn’t been in the shower for too long, a small nap wouldn’t hurt. Quickly, she settled for a little 30 minute nap. That way, she could get up soon enough to help him out in the kitchen and not abandon him to do everything on his own. She turns her phone off and slowly, her eyes shut.

…

Y/n slowly opens her eyes and notices a grey throw blanket placed on her, something that she doesn’t recall going to bed with earlier. “Must’ve been Nanami.” Grabbing her phone, she turns the screen on, wincing at the incredible blue light piercing into her skull. “Fuck.” she mumbles. Once her eyes adjust, she glances back at the screen for the time: 7:30.

“FUCK,” she says, voice croaking “I overslept.” With the speed of light, she leaves bed and runs down the hall to the bathroom to freshen up. She soon makes her way over to the kitchen silently, slightly ashamed and guilty. Y/n mumbles a whine with a frown, “He’s probably done making things now. I could have helped.”

The kitchen is filled with the delicate scents of sauces, cheese and herbs. She watches him from the door frame, admiring her boyfriend. He stood in front of the stove mixing at the sauce for the alfredo, which scent alone made her mouth water. Nanami seems to be in his own world, as he stands humming to himself softly, stirring the pot of sauce and adding in the broccoli and spinach, not seeming to notice y/n. With a final stir, he carefully sets the lid and turns to rinse his hands. Her gaze sits upon his figure, how his grey oversized shirt slightly clings to his shoulders and loosens as it goes down his body. Looking down, she noticed the bright red christmas pyjamas he had on, the ones with adorable little reindeers all over them. Grinning, she remembers how she had bought those for him. She purchased a matching set for the two of them and insisted on wearing them all day on Christmas last year. Nanami had responded to the idea with a stern “No” which left y/n in shambles. She didn’t expect him to agree, but hey, a girl can dream. However, on Christmas day, lo and behold, she had woken up to find Nanami sitting on the couch, watching the news with his reindeer PJs on. Immediately, she had attacked him with hugs and kisses and all Nanami did was sit there and accept them, secretly loving it the whole time.

A deep voice throws her out of her thoughts. “You know, it’s rude to stare, right?”

Y/n chuckles quietly and makes her way over, wrapping her arms around him from behind, snuggling into his back.

“I like to stare at you, you’re cute,” she breathes in his scent once again, “ah, you smell so much better now. Like the nami I know.”

“I am not cute. I am a grown man.”

“C’mon, you can’t possibly be saying that right now. Not while you’re wearing these pants.” She coos, gently patting his butt. He goes silent, refusing to rebuttal knowing that he’s lost. He leans against the counter, his front facing her. Though he didn’t say anything, y/n sees this as an open invite to his arms. The rope of his arms finds her waist this time, her arms in an embrace around his neck.

“Whatever, tell me, how was your day, hm?” He posed, changing the subject.

“Same old, yenno. The kids and I had a discussion today about drugs and safety. It was cute, hearing them rat out their neighbours for smoking cigs and talk about how yucky they thought alcohol is. It was… sweet. How was work for you, hon?”

“Shit.” He retorts, closing his eyes, “Work is shit.”

“Oh come ON, I’m sure it’s not always that bad, right? Say, how’s your friend doing, you know, the one who kinda looks like one of my makeup brushes! Isn’t he good company?”

“Yeah, if good company means having to deal with a nuisance to society on a daily basis then by all means, yes, Gojo is wonderful company.” He joked, loosening his grip on her and making his way over to the stove to check on his sauce. She follows, opening the first drawer and pulling out a silver spoon, “You’re so mean sometimes. I think he’s a great guy to be around! I met him once, such a flirt.”

He teases calmly, “If you love him so much, why don’t you get with him?”

Taking her spoon, she lowers it into the pot and brings it back up to her face, blowing on it carefully before she puts it to her lips to taste. “Hmm, I would. But I don’t think he’s as big as you. I’ll have to pass.” She smirked, putting the spoon into her mouth as he watched and sighed in disappointment.

He glares,“God, you’re something else.”

“I’m just kidding, babe.” Bringing her spoon down for another taste. He swats at her hand and she retreats it with a whine. “Don’t do that. You’ve tried it already, and will again when we get to eat.” He scolded tenderly, “Plus, you shouldn’t be given these privileges anyway. It’s not like you helped out or anything.” He smiled, teasing her.

“Nanamiiii, I’m sorry,” she whines, half laughing, “I promise, I was going to help! I just got a little bit sleepy and sort of lost track of time…” He turned over to her and lifted her face with a finger under her chin. Laughing, he delicately caresses her cheek, tapping it admirably with a curled finger. The blonde chuckles and looks her in the eyes, “I’m just joking with you, love. I know you’ve been tired lately, I can tell. Why haven’t you been resting?”

Her smile falls and she sighs. Y/n wrapped her arms around his waist and brought him into her, hiding her face into his chest. It was true, she was exhausted but she didn’t deem it to be anything so serious. Work was just heavy this past week from having to grade her students’ work in time for report cards. All she wanted was the best for her kids and was finding ways to get the kids out of their comfort zones enough to do well in class. That reminded her, Nanami also mentioned having a student of his own.

She takes her face out of his chest and glances upwards. “It’s just this week of work, I promise I’ll be back to normal soon. I’ve just been busy with lesson plans and activities, yenno. Anyway, speaking of students, how’s the one you’ve been assigned to?” She posed in a soft tone. Half smiling, he turned around to add the strained pasta to the sauce, scattering it into the pot.

“He’s special. Quite lively. And cheerful. He reminds me of you sometimes,” his voice strains as he stretches to grab the bowl of cooked chicken to finally add into the pot, finishing the meal, “He’s got potential.” Y/n beamed with happiness. Nanami really seemed to like this kid and if he thought you had potential, then it sure as hell meant you had it.

She lets out a squeal, “EEEEEEK!!! That sounds amazing! I’m so happy for you!” Nanami suppressed a laugh and rolled his eyes, “It’s not that-”

“This calls for a drink, don’t you think?” She babbled with excitement, “We should have some wine! Right?”

Grabbing her wrist as she skipped her way over to the bottle, he reminded her, “You have school tomorrow. You always end up having more than needed and struggle to wake up in the morning.” Y/n frowned at his words, to which he noticed and tried to fix, “Tomorrow’s Friday, you can drink plenty tomorrow, hm? I’ll drink with you.”

“Ugh, fine. You’re right. But you have to promise.”

“I promise you ca-”

“No! You have to pinky-promise.” She demanded, pouting as he stuck out her pinky finger.

His heart skips a beat. Was she always this cute? Her angelic eyes stare into his tired ones. Bottom lip poking out, awaiting Nanami’s pinky to interlock with her own. He knew she took pinky-promises very seriously despite her grown age. It was among one of the many petty details that he cherished. Something about this pinky-promise was enough for her to ensure trust onto someone, it made him laugh. Her naivety is what made her so kind hearted, what allowed her to see the best in people. He felt that this naivety is why they’re together to begin with. He didn’t ever think she’d give him a chance. He reminisced of their first few encounters. The way she did her hair back then, the way she dressed, her shy smile and how she’d look at the floor whenever she’d blush. Maybe it was her timid nature that made him fall head over heels for her. Or maybe it was her generosity. Perhaps her beauty. He was unable to simply confine the reasoning for his infatuation with just a few traits. She grew overtime, more comfortable and less shy, she was more confident around him but he knew he could still make her blush so badly that she’d have to hide her face from him. He enjoyed their banter, her company. He felt it was luck. Or maybe it was fate. Who knows. He didn’t want to think so much about it. He wanted to live in the moment, adore her in this present time. In that instance, he felt the strong urge to kiss her. And so he did.

The kiss was short and sweet, yet full of an unfathomable amount of love. It took her aback, she didn’t quite see it coming. She too stood in the present moment, then and there, cherishing the man she loved.

His lips leave hers and he extends the smallest finger on his hand, declaring, “I pinky-promise.” And a ginormous grin washes over her face. In a whisper, she squeals and scoops her arms around his torso, resting her head onto his chest. They stay like this for a while, not too long really, but to them it felt like an eternity being in each other’s affectionate embrace. He goes to speak and she feels the vibrating boom of his voice make his way up from his chest.

“I love you.”

She sighs, “I love you too.”

Turning her head, y/n smoothly gets on her tip toes and clasps her arms around his neck, giving it a tender kiss and attempting to make a trail leading up to his sharp jaw. Catching onto her tactics he laughs, putting his big hand against her face and pushing her back.

“Seriously?” He chuckles, “You couldn’t wait till after dinner? Come on, take out the plates.”

“Wait for what? I was just kissing you! You’re so dramatic, Nami.” She lies, playing innocent. She knew damn well what she was trying to do. She wasn’t going to admit to it though. Taking out the plates and utensils, she readied the table.

…

After dinner and meaningless conversation, the two lovers tidied and headed towards their room. “Do yo wana wah a mohee tomowwow nie?” Y/n proposed from the bathroom as she brushed her teeth. He perks his head up, confused, “Do I want to what?” She spat into the sink and rinsed her mouth, repeating her question.

“I said, do you wanna watch a movie tomorrow night? Like at home? There’s this documentary I saw on Netflix, it looks really good! It’s crime related.”

“That sounds fine with me. Though, that’s only possible if you don’t end up drinking too much. I always have to get you to sleep early when you drink.” He states nonchalantly, nose poked into a thick book. She rolls her eyes and smiles, “I promise I won’t drink all that much.” Shifting his book to the opposing hand, Nanami silently takes his pinky finger and holds it out to y/n. She snickers and reciprocates.

“You’ve now pinky-promised. Don’t break it, y/n.”

“I never do.”

The nightstand lamp illuminates the room with a soft yellow glow. Shadows of objects on the nightstand hang on the walls. Laying in bed on her phone, y/n turns over to Nanami, who was still reading his book. “Nami, come lay next to me, I wanna cuddle. Please?” Her voice faint. He looks down at her and puts his book away immediately. He could use a cuddle too. Bringing himself down, he lays on his back, y/n closing the gap between the two. Their legs intertwine, her arm and head resting on his chest while one of his hands rested on her bum, the other dotingly playing with her hair. Neither of them spoke a word for a while. Until y/n broke the silence.

“So, were there no other pairs of pants you had left to wear or-”

“Please, be quiet.”

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bunchofstraydogs · 3 years

Text

Dazai Osamu in a relationship

Just a lil warning before you proceed: dis a chonky one, kay?

○

Depending on why Dazai is in a relationship affects how he will act with his partner.

If Dazai is curious about them, enough to enter the relationship,

it will last at best a handful of months, at worst about 2 weeks. Enough to get to know them, test them out in terms of reaction, values, honesty and morality, and get bored of them. Thus leading to him braking up with the person or, if he predicts that the person would react badly and cause a scene, get them to break up with him. But even that is dubious because i doubt Dazai would make the relationship official. He would probably just act as if they're dating, leading the partner to believe they actually are without having to verbally confirm anything, and then as soon as he loses interest, pulls a now-you-see-me-now-you-don't and disappears with little to no notice. Hey, he never said they were dating, he calls everyone Belladona, the fault is that person's for being delusional. Yes, he is an asshole, what did you expect of Dazai?

But if Dazai is in love?? Unrecognizable.

I will make a separate headcanon(? whatever these are I'm writing) on what i think a person should be like to sweep Dazai of his feet, but now i want to concentrate on what he would be like in such a relationship.

Is it possible for Dazai to fall in love? Absolutely. He loved Odasaku and Ango, perhaps not romantically, but he's definitely capable of love. People like him- aware of the world's cruelty, dealing with demons and guilt, roaming the world for the sole reason that they haven't died yet, hoping to find something worthwhile they can feel the need to be selfish about and call theirs; don't fall in love, they crash desperately. It takes a lot for them to feel those emotions, but when they do, they can never really let them go.

He would try to act as he usually does in public and try approaching the subject of his trepidation and disarray in many different ways. Distancing himself and going as far to actively avoid them would just come back and bite him in his boney ass. To effectively avoid someone, you need to know their schedule, hobbies, interests, habits, etc. And having learned that would just constantly remind him of them, they'd never leave his mind. He'd look on the clock, see the time and know that they'll be in that specific class because he knows their whole curriculum and class schedule/ at the grocery because they're surly out of their favourite snack/ doing black laundry and yes, he knows unnecessary details about them as well. After that disastrous failure, he comes back running and commences new ways to handle that person. These beta testings are for him as much as they are for them. Just how much and what exactly does he feel for that person, what buttons can he push and which ones he doesn't want to.

When i say Dazai in love would be unrecognizable, i mean it. Not superficially, where everyone can see it, but where it matters.

After doing his best to rail in the unfamiliar feelings under control, going as far as using some of Mori's techniques, the realization of the situation he's found himself in hits him hard.

He comes back as if nothing happened.

The deadpan that person gives him and a "Are you done with your bullshit or do you need some more time to brood about issues you made with yourself?" He doesn't even blink, "Oh, my Belladona! Does that mean you've missed me? Were you worried about me as well??"

All of this was said in your typical, Dazai maniac style, the only difference is that he actually wants an answer. He wants to hear the confirmation, in whatever form it may come- he can read between the lines and body language, just give him something to work with. He's desperate.

While the public Dazai persona won't change, his inner musings and his approach to the love interest will.

Osamu will, sometimes sneakily, usually not so subtly, immerse himself into their daily life. Get them accustomed and used to his presence. What this will do is cause a sense of familiar coexistence, that of people living together; make the person unconsciously continue to include him in their activities; learn to depend on him (not in a unhealthy, yandere way, but if their car brakes down or they're feelinh unsafe, Dazai will be the first person they feel the urge to call) because Dazai can be reliable and he will be reliable for that special person. He will also be the first person they share good news with as well, because if someone is always there for and with you, it's only natural.

Make no mistakes, Dazai is transparent only when he wants to be.

The reasons he does this is because 1) he wants to gauge their reaction to his great interest in them, 2) mask his subtle advances which are the most important part of integrating himself into their life, 3) to get that person in the position where he needs them to be for him to move on to the next phase of his plan.

Now, i may have said plan, but that's a somewhat loose term since what he'll do next depends on their reaction. He definitely has a rough outline of the whole thing in his head, but he's also adaptable and ready to react accordingly to whatever they may throw his way.

[I will be using l/i or LI for "love interest" bc I'm tired of writing that person or whatever, okay? Good.]

Once his l/i made effort to go out of their way for him or commit any type of love language, basically:

act of service- pay for his bills, massage his shoulders, buy crab based food or alchohol he really likes for their own fridge so that he can have it when he's over (often) even if they don't like those things especially then

words of affirmation- thank you Dazai, how was your sleep?, please take better care of yourself i can't help you if you're not making an effort

physical touch- ruffle his hair, lean on him when tired, hold his hand or wrist because it's crowded and it would be a pain to search for you Dazai

gift giving- "I noticed you were running out of bandages", "I bought you food, figured your lost case would forget to eat", "saw this mackerel, reminded me of you^^" "BELLADONA, NO >:("

quality time- spending nights with him because he has insomnia, playing games at the arcade, drive around town run from the cops

He would be overwhelmed. In the best way possible. He'd feel overwhelmingly good and pleasant and warm and worried.

He didn't feel like this, ever.

Not even with Odasaku and Ango. They were probably his first friends, but that's the thing. They didn't make his heart race, they didn't throw him into panic attacks, they didn't overwhelm him, they didn't keep him up at night because he couldn't get them out of his head or completely monopolise his mind during the day.

He gets panic attacks.

A lot of them, actually. Usually he can fake being fine, but sometimes he hyperventilates and can't breathe and all that he can smell is the blood on his hands and his chest is as hollow as l/i's eyes. He knows what can happen. They can and will be used against him. Hell, it could even be an accident. He is vulnerable just because they exist and he can't do shit about it.

He could do his thing: pull some strings, have them move to another country and never speak to each other ever again. He has the power, but he lacks the strength. He could do it, but he doesn't want to. His thumb won't press the numbers, his voice died out, his mind went blank.

The wind blows and it carries their scent with it. The bells ring and it's their laughter that resonates within. His bandages ruffle and it's the warmth of their touch he feels. He's dying, but he's not just ready yet to leave. Hopefully, Odasaku will patiently keep a seat for him.

That was what gave him away, actually.

That's when Ranpo realised, with zero doubt, that Dazai Osamu is in love.

Dazai could be going on and on about suicide.

Enter l/i.

"I found an amazing tree yesterday with really sturdy branches. I wanted to test them out today, but i promised l/i I'd go to the new bakery with them today and who would they go with if i die?? Unacceptable!"

Ranpo: "A new bakery? I'll happily take your place."

"UNACCEPTABLE!!"

With every panic attack he feels stranded on an island in the sea of death.

He's exhausted. For the first time he finally wants to escape alive. Then they walk in and the storm in the sea moves to his heart. And into his stomach and his hands and his knees.

"I'm here for you, Osamu. Everything is going to be fine."

His insomnia goes by a different name now.

It still keeps him up at night and makes him restless.

But this time, when he fills his nth glass of whiskey for the night, when the TV is muted and the trafic quiet, when he can hear their breathing beside him in their shared bed, he raises the glass to hope for the halcyon days.

●

Fucking finally. You think you're exhausted, you waste of bandages?? I have a final today I'm going to fail and actually wrote about your musky ass. You try doing that with my brain.

Hope you guys like it and if you made it this far, here's a cup of ☕ or 🍵, whichever you prefer. I wrote him as i see and envision him. Hope it all makes sense. He's a complicated character, but he is still human and he is not immune to emotions.

Have a good one~☆

I will probably come up with more things for him, because i doubt i covered everything, but for now this shall do.

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu headcanons #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu in a relationship

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eppysboys · 3 years

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Could you, or anyone else that is knowledgeable in the subject, put into precise words what is wrong with the John Lennon estate and the myth and business they've built around John?

There is......so much... I've just been sitting here with your question spinning like a rotiserie chicken in my skull. It's decades and decades worth of myth building that I have an issue with, and that I think has limited John's work (in terms of outreach, timelessness, etc).

I think the best place to start would be with Rolling Stone, which is really the main structure of this particular myth around John. Here's a lovely video about it, by breathless345: McCartney, Lennon and Rolling Stone. Another very worthy read is The Beatles and Their Historians by Erin Torkelson Weber. Here's handy quote from her book!

In essence, the marketing of John has always been: John the authentic rebel, John the no-bullshit poet, John the working class hero, John the artsy peace advocate, John the enlightened one. Which, ok, sure. A little cringeworthy given he adopted these personalities like new hats and tossed them out (publicly, because he did own up to his mistakes and phases one way or another) when they weren't giving him the 'enlightenment' he was seeking... Don't get me wrong! I think John was all those things to a certain degree, but not in quite the same flavour, if that makes sense? I think after years and years of being his fan, when I think of John I see a sensitive man, endowed with great talent and beautiful warm charm, but also a great deal of trauma that had him on the run for answers and comfort his whole life. I don't see his anger in the context of 'this genius is mad at the world because of insane people and their insane objectives and tried to change the world with his soulmate', but more 'this really gifted and beautiful man is terribly confused and scared but has found comfort in this cause'. I don't think his pursuits for world peace were empty!! I just think they're framed in a way that makes him look like he was so rigidly deciated to the cause, like it was his life purpose, when he's said himself on so many occasions that he's just trying to find himself and make a world that will accept and be kind to people just like him. But that's not as cool to market to people as 'peace advocate genius man', because 'the tortured artist' is only marketable in certain ways - they have to live fast, die young, and have deep quotes to post on facebook 40 years later. No one wants a wishy washy icon, that's harder to sell.

But why is portraying John this way not a good thing? What's wrong with a bit of shorthand for marketing purposes? Well, such a big part of the marketing of John's solo work has been also partly rooted in putting Paul - his best friend, his partner, often his muse - down. Down as the fake, charming, poppy and preppy, empty, less talented one. The one who wrote granny songs and took over the beatles to make it less cool and arty. The estate (to some degree it's slightly better these days, but eh) makes out that pre-1968 was John Lennon, lost and confused and aimless. Rolling Stone pushes the manic interviews by John as John being the truthful, authentic genius ex-Beatle, though there's a wealth of instances where John has discounted those specific moments in time as how he felt in the moment, and that he feels ___ way now.

He was not 'Imagine' personified. He did care about Paul McCartney and admired him from head to heels. He did love The Beatles - not just in a 'what a great fucking band we were' sort of way but literally 'he loved those guys with all his heart, he depended on them and would defend them to the ends of the earth, he believed in them together and apart no matter what' way. He did write great and meaningful music before 1968. He was a great musician, he loved rock n roll and he was working himself out. If you set someone up to be 'authentic poet peace icon who wrote imagine' you're going to get backlash when anyone who has internet access or a John Lennon biography handy reads about his life and realises he could be extremely un-like that. If John's image was similar to Brian Wilson's, for example, this wouldn't be such an issue. And maybe, just maybe, he would be more intriguing and endearing to a generation of people disillusioned by celebrity activism and rich people lecturing us about life's great pains.

Watch this series, specifically this episode for how John's image has been shaped and it's impact.

Also, this sucked.

Hope that any of that made any sort of sense!

Stream Walls and Bridges.

#i ramble i rumble #this...is a mess #someone more articulate is very welcome to reply and mend my broken explainations #asks #the lennon estate

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mintugiyuu · 3 years

Text

> here’s the final part of your request @kyojoroo ! I’m so sorry it’s in two different parts, but I learned for the first time that these text boxes have a limit lmao, again I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night! <3

༄ we have to stop meeting like this - continued

sfw one-shot

➥ pairing || rengoku kyojurou x reader

➥ au || modern day; college

➥ warnings || cheesy, tooth-rotting fluff with extra cheese

➥ synopsis || the reader keeps bumping into the one and only rengoku kyojurou; only instead of just casually seeing him over and over again, they quite literally bump into him in the most inconvenient ways possible. (cont.)

➥ part one || click here!

༄ the mediterranean sea collection - masterlist

Today had to be one of the worst days in your life. Freezing, drenched, and newly homeless, you tucked yourself onto the bus stop bench. Lucky you, this one didn't even have an awning to protect you from the elements.

The rain had no pity for your predicament as it pelted your body, the light clothing doing close to nothing for you. Summer had just come, yet the night rainfall seemed to have brought an unexpected chill.

Not to mention the suitcase and duffle bag you had with you were now also getting soaked.

You could only hope nothing was too waterlogged.

Your hand did little to protect your dying phone from getting wet as you tried to search for the nearest place to stay. Motel, hotel, air B'N'B; anything in range to get you off the streets for the night.

You had a feeling this would happen, and boy were kicking yourself for not seeing the red flags and preparing sooner.

Not having enough savings for a dorm, you had signed a contract with the residents of an apartment to rent out one of the rooms for cheap.

The agreement only lasted for two semesters, but they had promised that you'd be able to renew it once summer rolled around.

"Promise my ass." You grumbled, remembering how the original owner had gotten a partner. In return, they refused to let you sign another contract so they would have space for the "love of their life".

You saw the signs; you saw how their stuff slowly moved into the apartment and all the time they were spending there.

You just didn't think they'd be shitty enough people to kick you out the moment your contract ended.

A gust of icy wind rolled through, causing another shudder to rack your body. The closest place wasn't in walking distance, and it was far to late for the buses to be running. Sighing, you shut off your phone and closed your eyes.

You had resigned yourself to walk the several blocks to the nearest 24/7 fast food place to at least get out of the rain.

That was until the rain fall suddenly stopped beating down on you. The rain couldn't have stopped though, you could still hear it. You blinked your eyes open and looked up, surprised to what - or more accurately, who - you saw.

"...Kyojurou?"

Standing there in all his warmth and glory, Kyojurou looked down at you with concern, holding a bright red umbrella over your soaked form.

He couldn't seem to help the small smile that graced his lips at the sound of his first name.

"I'd be happier that you finally used my name if you didn't look so sad and drenched."

A humorless snort escaped your lips as you hugged yourself, shivering slightly. "Timing always has my side doesn't it? I'm just about to head to the closest food place to get out of the rain, so don't worry about it."

"Why?"

"I got kicked out," you shrugged, looking to the ground.

"This late at night?"

"It surprised me too. They found a new roommate and wouldn't let me renew my contract for the next school year, and it just so happens it ended tonight." There was a hint of bitterness in your tone, one that was completely understandable.

Kyojurou's brows furrowed. "They didn't give you a heads up? A two week notice?"

"I'm just lucky they let me pack all of my stuff before I had to leave." You continued to look down at the ground, not seeing the way Kyojurou's face contorted ever so slightly.

He didn't get mad often, but whoever your old roommates are were now on his shit list

"Well that's a shitty thing to do," he stated bluntly, causing you to sputter and blink dumbly at him.

It's been almost a year since you've met the blonde, and in all that time you never once heard him say a single bad word.

"Did you just curse??"

He pretended not to hear, pulling out his own phone to see the time as you mulled over the fact that this sweet ray of sunshine just called someone shitty.

Expression neutralizing as he schemed, he turned back to you. "You don't have to stay in a fast food place for the night."

"Huh?? Are you suggesting I sleep in a box?"

The man smiled, resting a reassuring hand on top of your shoulder, frustration forgotten for now. "You can stay with me!"

"What now?"

Chuckling, he passed the umbrella off to you to hold, beginning to slip his arms out of the jacket he wore. "You can stay with me for the time being until you get back on your feet! Well, us. If you wanted to of course! Sanemi just moved out, so we're looking for a new one regardless."

Baffled at the sudden offer, you started to shake your head, forming the words to decline him. It was too big of a favor, how could you accept that?

He was one step ahead of you, as he always is.

"Before you say anything, no, it would not be any trouble, you're a joy to have around! We can settle the nitty gritty later, let's just get you out of the cold."

"Wait, Kyojurou," you were silenced by a heavy warmth that suddenly engulfed your upper body, including your sight. Moving the fabric from your eyes, you realized it was his jacket.

His once dry clothes was slowly becoming just as soaked as you were as he took back the umbrella, insistently keeping it solely above you.

The gentle way he smiled in combination with the light post that shined behind his head had you convinced he was your guardian angel in disguise.

You hesitantly pulled the jacket closer to your body, not being able to deny how relieving the warmth felt. "But, won't you be cold?"

"My insides are practically pocket heaters, it takes a lot for me to be cold. A little wind and rain won't do anything to me, I promise! Now come on, before you get sick," he insisted as he grabbed your bag, throwing them over his shoulder.

"Little" was an understatement, but you didn't have the energy to argue. It was the middle of the night and you could feel your eyes starting to droop.

Grabbing your luggage to role behind, you let the other wrap his free arm around your form, hand resting on your arm. "Thank you, truly I don't know where to start showing how grateful I am. I owe you big time."

"Never refer to me as Rengoku-san again and I'll call it even!"

A wobbly smile tugged at your lips as you leaned into his side, letting him guide you down the route to his apartment. "You have a deal then, Kyojurou."

The weather broadcasters warned everyone about heavy snowfall, but you couldn’t help but think they could’ve prepared everyone a bit more as you stared out your window and could only see the shadow of snow.

Thank the gods above it was winter break or they’d have to cancel classes, which would just be tuition money flushed down the shitter.

Your train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door of the bedroom you were in, which was odd because the door was open.

Low and behold, it was your sweetheart of a boyfriend, holding two mugs and using his foot to knock. “I brought hot coco!”

"You don't have to knock, this is your room you dork."

"Our room technically, my dear." He responded smoothly, shutting the door with his foot behind him as he made his way to you.

"Careful not to spill it," he winked, laughing slightly as he handed you your mug.

"Just for that I should," you scoffed playfully, sticking your tongue out at him as you took the drink. The smile on his face was nothing but adoring, finding you to be adorable. You had to look away to dismiss the butterflies that swarmed in your tummy. “Looks like we’re snowed in for a bit. The snow is above the windows.”

Kyojurou hummed in agreement. “I still don’t understand how tiny snowflakes can become so damaging so fast!”

“You’re funny,” you chuckled, taking a sip of the hot beverage. Kyojurou always made the best hot chocolate.

“... UME! I’m glad I can be amusing!” You couldn't hold down the snort at the realization that he wasn't joking, swallowing and shaking your head. You granted him mercy and switched the subject.

“What are the others up to?”

Kyojurou leaned against the sill next to you, shoulder bumping yours affectionately. “Tengen is in the living room playing video games with his girlfriends, Mitsuri is watching a movie in her room and Obanai is watching with her. I think she's also painting his nails from the conversation I overheard while passing by."

“I see.”

The both of you were leaning against the window sill, basking in the comfortable silence. It wasn't common in an apartment full of unique roommates.

Even now you both could hear the loud victory cheer of Suma as Tengen groaned in defeat.

Taking another sip of your drink, you hummed, lifting your head to face Kyojurou. You were going to say something, but that was forgotten as you covered your mouth with your fingers as to not laugh suddenly.

"Hm? Is something wrong?" Your poor oblivious lover had a whipped cream mustache. He tilted his head at you - not unlike an owl - seemingly confused to your sudden shift in expression. You swallowed your laughter down as you placed your drink onto the sill, stepping closer to the blonde.

"No, nothing's wrong. You just have a little something rigghtt..." you reached out to grip his chin gently, swiping your thumb across his top lip to collect the whipped cream. "-there, all gone!"

A pretty, bright red color spread across Kyojurou’s face, wide eyes blinking owlishly at you with his mouth slightly agape. Laughing quietly at his reaction, you licked the cream off your thumb, patting the side of his cheek teasingly.

"You'll catch flies, hun." A click of teeth could be heard as he closed his mouth.

"RIGHT!" He stopped himself to clear his throat, turning to face the window as his usual smile reappeared, though a bit wobbly. "Thank you!"

All you did was hum, a slight mischievous smirk settling onto your face. You were set to happily go back to your drink when you shivered, the chill of the room finally reaching you through your clothes.

Kyojurou caught it from the corner of his eye, turning back to you. “Are you cold?”

You waved him off, shaking your head. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence, you'll just get another sweatshirt.

“I’ll be ok. The hot coco will warm me up in- WOAH!” That plan was thrown out the window when he suddenly scooped you up into his broad arms, smiling determinedly.

"You're not allowed to just continue on being cold, not if I can help it!" The firey man plopped you down onto your shared bed, quickly gathering the collection of fluffy blankets you have accumulated over time.

In the blink of an eye, you were neatly swaddled in said blankets and being held gently to your boyfriend's warm chest. He settled underneath the main blanket, wrapping his strong arms around your body.

“Is that better?” He beamed at you, looking oh so proud of himself.

What did you do to deserve him?

"Much," you all but groaned, snuggling your face into the warmth of his chest. It was like cuddling a big warm marshmallow. “I still can’t understand how you’re so warm.”

“I’m a living-breathing heater, my dear. I’ve explained this before, I’m sure of it.”

You snorted, leaning into his hand as he began to run his fingers through your hair. “I’m not complaining, you’re good to keep around for whenever my hands freeze.”

“I wouldn’t mind one bit," his voice came out softly, planting a warm kiss to onto your forehead. This in turn caused you to melt even further into him, burying your face into his shirt.

Kyojurou laughed with amusement as he turned on the television, looking for something for the two of you to watch for the rest of the evening. You eventually peaked your head out to look at him, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“Hey, Kyojurou?”

“Yes?”

All of his attention was on you. Even in these small moments he looks at you as though you're the most precious human being in the world. And to him, you were.

You hummed, placing a kiss onto his chin. “I’m happy I spilled my drink all over you.”

The small peck had similar effects from the whipped cream incident earlier, though he seemed to snap out of it quicker this time. He smiled brighter, cupping your cheek with his large, warm hand.

“That's an odd way of saying I love you."

This made you pause, the 'L-word' not being used between the two of you yet. “Wait, what?"

He gave you no time to question further as he placed a kiss onto your lips in return, his other hand finding the small of your back to pull you closer.

The initial shock of being kissed faded quickly, your arms finding their way around his neck as you pulled yourself closer. The kiss was short and sweet, yet the passion that Kyojurou lived by was always present.

The kiss came to a pause with you laying on top of his chest, remote forgotten and blankets wrapped around you as you steadied your breathing.

Kyojurou's eyes crinkled slightly with his smile, brushing the back of his hand across your cheek.

"I love you too."

#🎣.requests #sfw #one shot #kny #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny reader insert #demon slayer reader insert #kimetsu no yaiba reader insert #kny one shot #demon slayer one shot #kimetsu no yaiba one shot #rengoku kyojurou #rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojurou x reader

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smallblip · 4 years

Note

Okay, but (sorry for my english) I just really love modern hc where they perform as the band No Name during their school festival (their identities are already known and that people know they belong to one of the most famous group in the school /with nanaba and erwin/).

Levi’s the face of the group and almost half of the fans have him as their bias but they really thinks he’s asexual or bi or even gay since they never knew anyone who had been his girlfriend and he doesn’t seem to be that person to be involved in any romance.

But then he surprises everyone when during their performance, he just grabs hange’s ponytail and kissed her deeply.

And people were just like—oh, shit, wait, what.... levi just—kissed his friend....his....friend.....Hange....the Hange

Then the crowd went wilder and even Levi’s fans just gasped with excitement because—damn that’s hot!

Even Hange herself were surprised but she couldn’t do anything since levi’s grip was too strong, lost in his own world as he ravishes her with kisses as if he doesn’t give a shit about everyone watching them

she doesn’t even know how long it lasted.

Then there’s Erwin in the crowd, capturing every moment with a camera because he’s the only one who wasn’t surprised about this

Stop the presses!

“Breaking news! Levi Ackerman frontman of No Name is having an illicit love affair!”

“It’s not breaking news if everyone already knows...” Porco rolls his eyes. Connie groans. Great. Now Porco is in his shot. The school’s journalism club is essentially him and Sasha with her phone’s camera. They do not have the skill nor the budget to edit him out.

“Who’s he dating then?” Sasha shoots back.

“Heard it’s a girl from another school.” Porco shrugs.

“Heard he’s gay...” Reiner offers.

“You just want him to be gay...” There’s sniggering and Reiner wants to punch Porco, but he’s a man of discipline, so no violence before breakfast.

“It’s just a rumour! He isn’t dating anyone! Levi’s too cool to date.” Eren says, gagging at the mention of the word. A literal child.

“Who would wanna date him?” Mikasa scoffs.

“Everyone in the school apart from you, Mikasa...” Petra says, “he’s dreamy...”

Connie urges the discussion on, Sasha capturing all of this. This is the best content they’ve gotten all week. “Come on! There are no bad answers!”

“Maybe he’s dating a fan?” Bertholdt says.

“Maybe he’s dating Hanji... They do seem rather close?” Pieck says, and the silence and scowls are intended to shame her. Connie looks at the aluminium foil on Pieck’s head. Right. The Signs movie screening organised by the conspiracy society is today.

“No bad answers except that one...” Connie says.

—

“You’re the talk of the town again...” Mike says, “they were discussing you on the school’s YouTube channel.”

Levi tsks. He doesn’t know why Mike bothers with that crap. It’s a pretty high quality production... he had justified, but there’s nothing high quality about Sasha’s shaky hands and Connie’s head covering half the frame. Everyone knows Mike enjoys the gossip, and there’s no one that enjoys it more. Except maybe Erwin.

“Do tell! Who is the enigmatic Levi Ackerman dating?” Erwin teases. He knows he’s not getting anything out of tight-lipped Levi. But it’s still worth a shot. Also worth seeing how annoyed he can get. Plus it’s not like they don’t already know.

If the canteen hadn’t been so goddamn full, Levi would’ve relocated long ago. Then again, his lunch groups hasn’t changed since his first day at school. The routine works.

“I’m sure you boys would be the first to know...” Nanaba chuckles. She had been the first to know and frankly. Levi’s inability to confess has been getting stifling. The only thing that really breaks the conversation though? Hanji tripping and landing face first on the table, lucky for her Levi moves her tray out of the way, saving her lunch, “watch it four eyes!”

“What did I miss?” Hanji asks, eyes already gleaming at the possibility of new knowledge.

“We were just talking about Levi’s illicit love affair.” Mike says. This is getting interesting.

“Awww Levi! You didn’t tell your ol’ pal Hanji that you were seeing someone?”

The rest of them exchange looks. God she’s so goddamn oblivious.

“Eat. We’ve got band practice before class.” Levi says, fingers already working to peel Hanji’s orange for her.

Nanaba winces. So goddamn oblivious.

—

“So we enter school today and Sasha what do we see?”

“Merch!” Sasha pops in front of the screen and does jazz hands with Connie.

“In the lead up to the big No Name concert, everyone’s donning their best No Name merch! First, let’s speak to the best in the game, Armin Arlert.”

Armin fidgets awkwardly, “ahaha I’m just a fan who just happens to make high quality merch.” Modest for someone earning big bucks from his enterprise.

“Ah... And you have competition this year!” Connie says into the microphone, which is really just rolled up newspaper.

“Well... The quality of my work speaks for itself...” Armin smiles sheepishly at the camera, but there’s something insidious in his eyes. Armin has to admit having sole monopoly over No Name merchandising in school has gone a little stale. Surely a little competition will spice things up.

“So Zeke, care to tell us more about your entry into the merchandise game?” Connie asks the bearded boy. Who has a full grown beard at their age? Connie makes a mental note to insert “sells bootleg merch” in the little panel that runs below Zeke’s interview. The whole school is also pretty sure Zeke had been behind the whole oregano debacle last year- someone had been passing oregano off as weed and selling it to the younglings.

“What’s there to say? Mine’s cheaper.” Zeke winks.

“So, satisfied customer. Why did you choose to buy Armin’s merch over Zeke’s?” Connie asks.

Pieck glances down at her Hanji shirt, “Armin got Hanji’s nose right.” She smiles.

In the background Armin and Eren are yelling at one another.

“How could you Eren! I thought we were best friends!” Armin says. Maybe the competition spiced things up a little too much.

“It was cheaper Armin! So much cheaper!”

Eren is wearing the ugliest shirt in school so, is it really worth it though?

—

“We are absolutely not blowing our budget on a confetti canon!”

“But Levi!” Hanji whines, “you already rejected so many of my ideas...”

“May I remind you that your previous ideas include a guillotine on stage, you repelling from the ceiling-“

“A tiger...” Mike adds and Hanji shoots him a look, traitor...

“It was two tigers...” she mutters under her breath. “Aww Levi you never let me do anything fun!” She pouts and Mike watches as Levi’s resolve slips an inch. There’s nothing more disgusting than the weakness of a man in love. Mike rolls his eyes. He had told Erwin if he wanted in on the action, he should join their band. There’s just so much to see that Mike has honestly had his fill. Or maybe he’s just saying it. Damn Nanaba was right, he enjoys this more than he’d care to admit.

“If you shut up through the next five songs, I’ll buy you dinner.”

“What about me?” Mike huffs.

“Deal!” Hanji shouts triumphantly, “and if you let me sing the chorus with you on this next song at the concert I’ll buy you dessert!”

“Almost as if I’m invisible...” Mike mutters.

“Fine... Deal... If you can hit the notes that is...”

“Ohhhh snap!” Mike says, and Levi turns to him for a high five. Mike smashes a beat on his drums. Hanji deadpans.

Ba dum fuckin tiss indeed.

—

“So it’s two days before the festival and the big No Name concert. Today, we’ve got a special treat for you. Roving reporter Jean Kirschtein will find out more about Levi’s love affair, straight from the horse’s mouth!”

Jean shoots Connie a dirty look. But the pun had not been intended. Connie mouths a quick apology before continuing, “but first, a word with the people closest to him-“ Connie nudges Jean towards the general direction of Erwin, Nanaba and Mike. Remember you owe me Jean! Connie whispers harshly when he senses his friend’s hesitation, now go!

Jean groans once more. God his reputation was going to take a hit. He’s vice captain of the soccer team for God’s sake. He doesn’t need this.

“Erwin Smith! A word? Uh... Thoughts on the rumours surrounding Levi Ackerman’s love life?” Jean asks. “Erwin Smith, football captain, history club president, student council treasurer, overall overachiever, and Levi Ackerman’s friend” appears on the screen. They all know if anyone’s likely to spill, it’s going to be Erwin.

Erwin’s eyes light up, he’s finally going on the channel he watches religiously with Mike. There’s so much he can contribute, so much gossip to share, so much insight. Maybe they would even invite him as a panelist on their show. The sheer power! He looks at Nanaba and she frowns at him and shakes her head. Ah damn it! He knows she’ll tear into him if he divulges too much.

“That’s strictly on a need to know basis.” Erwin grins.

“Well... Can you give us anything at all?” Jean asks. Please for the love of god he needs to pay Connie back somehow for setting him up on that date with Mikasa. God is generous but he can easily take it all away.

“We have good, solid guesses, but other than that... No... We can’t confirm anything...” Erwin answers, but not before glancing at Nanaba. She’s nodding. Good, that’s a good answer. Ambiguous enough to keep people wanting. Erwin is relieved. Jean isn’t however, he’s now certain that his debt is going to be rolled along a tab he will soon never be able to pay.

“Oh and the history society’s having quiz night next week, be there or be square!” Erwin plugs.

“Nerd!” Nile yells from across the hallway and Mike chortles.

It doesn’t take Jean long to find Hanji, after all she’s president of the biology club, so why wouldn’t she be in a lab elbow deep in a vat of something Jean doesn’t want to know the name of. It’s her kingdom with a whopping total of four subjects.

“Hanji Zoë, I’m here to ask for the latest on Levi Ackerman’s love life-“

Hanji Zoë- the school’s resident oddball, the genius herself, in the flesh, eating a checkerboard cookie. She looks up at him and there are crumbs on her face.

“Oh! Hi Jean!” Hanji looks up momentarily, “that’s easy, Levi’s in love with me.” She winks at Jean and chuckles. Jean’s jaw drops, surely she’s kidding. Hanji’s known for that after all- her quick wit and dismal personal hygiene. He chuckles awkwardly. “Yeah... Okay...”

“See you at the concert?” She beams at him and he replies enthusiastically. Is she kidding? Everyone’s gonna be there. But Jean remains strategic, he leaves right before she gets the chance to talk his ear off about joining her club again. “Shoot... There goes another one...” she says under her breath as he exits the lab.

Jean bumps into Levi when he’s leaving the lab, odd, what’s Levi doing here, no matter, Jean has a job to do.

“Levi Ackerman! Care to comment on the recent rumours surrounding your-“

“No.” Levi interjects and heads off.

Jean flips the camera so he’s in it, “well, that’s the scoop. Back to you Connie and Sasha.”

—

“It’s the day of the festival! But really the whole school is buzzing with anticipation for the No Name concert!” Connie announces into his makeshift mic.

“Will there be another accident on-stage this time? Will Levi Ackerman reveal more on his secret romance? Is there even a secret romance to begin with? More importantly, will Porco Galliard finally pay for his own food at the festival?”

“Hey!” Porco whips his head around to glare at Connie, “did Reiner get you to say that?”

Connie shrugs, “we’ll find out after these messages...”

The concert is a blast, from a spectacular entrance (choreographed, no doubt, by one Hanji Zoë), to Mike’s drum solo, to Levi’s vocal riffs. But there’s an anticipation of another sort- will Levi Ackerman finally address the rumours of his love affair?

“My Levi-Hanji senses are tingling Nanaba...” Erwin says mid-concert. As the self-proclaimed expert on school gossip, there’s no gossip sweeter than that which surrounds his two best friends. Nanaba thinks it’s an overstatement of his abilities.

But Nanaba feels it too- the electricity in the air, “i think it’s finally happening!” She says, nothing short of a vision.

Levi announces the last song for the night, and he makes his way over to Hanji during the last chorus.

HUH?

Sasha’s cameras are rolling. She holds her breath, for what she doesn’t know, but she feels it coming, call it director’s intuition if you will.

Hanji looks at Levi and beams past the bandages over their eyes, now upgraded to a material they can actually see through, ever since that one accident with Hanji trying to execute a stage dive completely blind. It’s not fun explaining to the ER nurse how you managed to fracture your arm in so many locations.

Hanji’s expression changes to one of confusion when Levi closes the distance between them. This isn’t part of any plan. Her lips part in a gasp. The crowd falls silence, breath collectively held in anticipation. It’s happening. The most significant and exciting moment of their young lives.

What in the name of Maria, Rose, and Sheena!

Levi grabs Hanji by her ponytail and crashes his lips into hers. She forgets how to function, her guitar now hanging limp and forgotten. But her arms find their way around Levi’s neck. It’s just Mike on the drums now, roaring with laughter.

“Hell yes!” Mike exclaims and it’s captured by one of the mics, joined by Nanaba and Erwin at exactly the same time. There’s a flash from Erwin’s phone, there, immortalised in a photo forever. He knows it’ll come in handy one day. For blackmail or for a future wedding montage. Either is fine.

What just happened?

Connie’s jaw is hanging.

“Levi Ackerman and... and... Hanji Zoë?” Connie says, more for his own benefit than for his audience. Because this is Hanji they’re talking about? The Hanji Zoë? Resident evil genius, overall weirdo, oddly magnetic and popular amongst both the boys and the girls, Levi’s childhood friend Hanji Zoë? The answer had been staring them right in the face! Levi at the biology labs, Levi glowering at her, the bickering, the chemistry on and off stage.

Connie whips his head over to Pieck, and she winks at him, told you so!

“I don’t believe it! Stop the presses! Levi Ackerman, frontman of No Name, in love with the brilliant, the magnetic, the one and only... Hanji Zoë!”

Hanji is kissing Levi back with fervour, until they’re both blushing and giddy, the music long forgotten, and when everyone is done gawking, the crowd erupts in violent cheering. Who would’ve thought emotionally constipated Levi, Levi whose private life has been kept a secret for so long, safe from the prying hands of the school press and his loyal fans, would choose to make an announcement like this. What a night! What a spectacle!

“I guess that’s all for tonight folks, and what a fantastic and surprising evening it has been!” Connie laughs, “I’m Connie Springer, and you heard it here first!”

The confetti canon goes off. And Hanji watches with uninhibited joy as confetti rains down on the stage.

“So... Tigers next time?” Hanji says, unwrapping the bandages from her face, her eyes glazed over and more beautiful than anything Levi has ever seen. He scoffs, pressing another kiss to her lips for posterity.

“Don’t push it...”

(A/N: prompt so good I had to write a mini fic! Thank you anon💖💖💖)

#yes it me pretending the manga and its spoilers don’t exist #thank you anon💖#anon #inbox #Drabble #levihan #levihan fanfic #Levi x hange #Hanji Zoë #hange zoe #Levi Ackerman #mine #shingeki no kyojin

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bruhlsbees · 3 years

Text

sweet disposition ; 3/? || modern!alex kerner x fem!professor!reader

summary: after a month of not speaking, you finally approach alex

pairing: modern!alex kerner x fem!professor!reader

warnings: wet dream, teacher/student fantasy, smut, virginity loss, almost car sex, mommy kink, this one really is just a smut fest, 18+, minors dni, nsfw

word count: 8,880

a/n: hope y'all are buckled in for this one - this one might be messy just cause i'm half awake posting this so i might go back and clean it up tomorrow

One month.

One lousy fucking month it had been since you and Alex stopped talking. He wanted to say that he had been doing good, say that he had forgotten about you and could look you in the eyes and tell you to shove off for how you reacted. But even then, even after everything, he knew deep down he still wouldn’t be able to.

Alex had kept himself busy though throughout February and the beginning few days of March. He picked up more hours at work and hung out with Denis and his new girlfriend, Lara, more. Alex never would admit it to Denis, cause he would hate to see how upset Denis would get, but he hated being the third wheel. Why was it that Denis could get a girl and Alex couldn’t even find someone attractive? Well, other than you that is.

He also gravitated towards drinking more. Alex found himself drinking at least two beers when he got home and another before going to bed. It was bad to say, he knew that, but it helped dull the pain he had in his chest. Dare he say, a heart break? No - that was just silly to say, how could he be heartbroken over someone that he hardly knew?

But whether Alex would admit it or not, he was heartbroken. He found himself becoming desperate, wandering into the English department one day and towards your office. He wasn’t going to bother you, he just wanted to see how you were doing. You were with a student at the time, a guy probably a year or two younger than himself. You were smiling and laughing at whatever the student was telling you and it sent a boil into Alex’s chest.

It wasn’t until he saw you grab the student’s hand that he was sent into a rage. Turning around on his heels, Alex headed back down the hall with a huff, his footsteps heavy as he stomped away to leave, making it to the entranceway for that side of the office before coming to a stop at the sound of his voice.

Turning around, he glared at the sight of Professor Thorne coming out of his office, looking down at Alex with a frown, “Hey, Alex. You okay?” Rolling his eyes, Alex knew that the last person he wanted to speak with then was Professor Thorne, although if he were to just turn and walk away, that would just start an entirely new ordeal that Alex didn’t have room to deal with at the moment.

“Yeah, peachy.” Alex said through gritted teeth. Before he could ask what he wanted though, Professor Thorne beat Alex to it.

“Okay…” He began, not entirely believing him, but also not caring enough to press on. “Listen, you’re the only one who hasn’t met with me yet to discuss your senior project. Do you have time tomorrow to meet with me? I gotta know where you’re at and see if there is anything I can help you with.”

There was a reason Alex hadn’t met with him yet - it was because he was still getting over whatever it was he told you back in January. Alex still wanted to beat him up, but he knew that he couldn’t - since he was his professor and everything.

But Alex knew that this was part of his grade, meeting with him to discuss his progress. He found it so painful to even answer, but finally he did.

“Yeah, sure, whatever. I can come into your office hours tomorrow.”

Taking a step forward, Professor Thorne clapped Alex’s shoulder, “Great! I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

Before Thorne could get another word out, Alex was already turning and going out of the department to leave for the day.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

“Okay class, thanks for the great discussion today! As you’re looking over your critiques from me on your past project, feel free to contact me if you have any questions, alright? If I don’t hear from you I’ll assume you’re satisfied with your grade.”

The class began to pack up, shuffling down the steps of the auditorium and out the exit doors to head to their next classes or wherever it was they went afterwards. You became distracted by your own critique grade, the bold letters in red stating ‘SEE ME AFTER CLASS’ hitting you in the face like a brick. You thought you had done so well on that past project, but it seemed as though the professor thought otherwise.

When you approached his desk, he was finishing his conversation with another student, who proudly talked about how he would be sending his film in for a contest sometime this week.

“That’s great to hear, Jaxon! You’ll have to let me know how it goes.” Jaxon nodded his head, turning towards you and smiled shyly, waving awkwardly before excusing himself from the class. When the door clicked shut, you cleared your throat to get the professor’s attention.

“Excuse me, Professor Kerner? You asked to see me about my project?” It was more so of a clarification than a question, although your timidness would make others think otherwise. You stood in front of his desk, watching as he looked up from his laptop with a smile.

“Yes, of course. Do you have time to discuss this in my office? I believe there is another class in here shortly after us and I’d hate to be interrupted.” Before you could answer him, though, he was already on his feet, packing the desk up.

“S-Sure! Yeah, I have time. I don’t have anything else going on today.” Your mouth twitched into a smile, cheeks growing red as you watched him round the desk, standing beside you with his hand on your back.

“Shall we?”

It didn’t take long to get to his office, going to the third floor where the English department resided. You kept on his heels, not wanting to get lost as classes dismissed and professors frantically went from the hall and into their offices or vice versa. You nearly ran into one of the professors on your way to Professor Kerner’s office.

But when you finally stepped through the door and into his office, you let out a sigh of relief, closing your eyes to catch your breath before the sound of the door shutting caught your attention.

Turning, you watched as Professor Kerner set his things down on his desk, motioning towards the round table in the middle, “Please, have a seat. I just need to get my laptop out.”

You sat down at the table, your backpack resting beside you while the graded critique laid in front of you. You weren’t sure what to do with your hands suddenly and found yourself toying with the corner of the paper. It didn’t take him long before he sat across from you, slipping his jean jacket off and throwing it behind him and into the open chair at his desk.

“Professor, I’m sorry if my project didn’t meet the require-”

“Alex.” He said suddenly cutting you off from your apology.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked up from the empty spot at the table and up at him, “Pardon?”

He laughed, shaking his head before opening his laptop to pull open your project. “Alex. My name. Call me that when we’re in here. I do have a name, not just Professor.” He teased you, glancing up at you to see your reaction.

He was so smooth with his words, maybe that’s why his screenwriting unit was so good - it’s cause he knew how words were supposed to flow. You nodded your head slow, blinking as you tried to recollect your thoughts.

“Okay, Alex...I’m sorry if my project didn’t meet the requirements in the rubric. I really thought I did a go-”

“What makes you think you didn’t?”

Your mouth snapped shut as he interrupted you again, this time your face growing red with annoyance rather than from the suaveness of his words. If he let you finish your sentence, maybe he’d know what you were trying to ask him.

But you didn’t get the chance to then, he turned his laptop towards you and began to play your project, continuing on while the video played in the background.

“You’re not a film student, are you?” He asked, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hands. You shook your head, “No, I’m an English Literature major.”

He nodded once before moving to hit the spacebar on his laptop, pausing the video before looking back at you. “I can tell...but that shouldn’t be taken badly - what I mean by that is your work shows it. You think out of the box with assignments compared to the traditional route.”

You shrugged your shoulders, blushing as you stared at him. “I just did what I felt was right.”

The answer seemed to satisfy him, although there was a flicker of something darker that hit his eyes. You leaned back in your chair and moved your hands towards you, picking at the loose threads in your jeans.

“Is there a reason you wanted to see me, Professor?” You watched as he stared at you for another moment before standing up, walking over to the door of his office, looking out the window before shutting the blinds and locking the door. He stuffed his hands into his pockets before turning back to look at you.

“I want you to show me how you got some of those shots. Please, get out your camera.”

As he sat back down in his chair, he moved it back to sit out from under the table, his legs spreading out wide as his hands rested on his thighs. You weren’t sure where this was leading, but you had a sinking suspicion that there was more to it than just showing him how you got some shots.

You stood up from your own seat, holding the camera in your hands as you slowly made your way to him, standing in front of him while looking down at him, your face red.

“So I...um, I don’t zoom in unless I have to. If your subject works with you, you shouldn’t have a problem getting a tight shot of their face without them getting distracted.” You explained, your grip on your camera tightening.

Alex nodded his head and smiled, motioning for you to step closer, “Well then, why don’t you show me? I’m more of a visual learner myself.” He explained, his hands running up and down his thighs.

For a brief second you didn’t move, your brain not sure with what to do. It’s not that you were uncomfortable, it just felt like a weird dream - a really weird sexual fantasy that you knew you shouldn’t be having.

“I, Professor, I'm sorry, but I have to go. I have something coming u-”

“It’s Alex, remember? And you told me that you didn’t have anything after class...were you lying to me?” He questioned, sitting up straighter as he stared you down. The look he was giving you wasn’t sinister necessarily, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

“No, Professor, I just forgot-”

But before you could get the sentence out, you felt his hand on your wrist, pulling you to him until you were settled on his lap, only inches from his face. You tried to get comfortable, but it was hard when you felt his obvious erection under your leg.

“Come now, don’t get shy on me now. Why don’t you turn that camera on and show me what I asked you to?” His hand was now on your waist, holding you down on his lap so you wouldn’t run off. You found yourself giving in, nodding your head as you turned your camera on and brought it up to your face, watching through the screen.

It was hard to stay focused, your hands shaking which made the quality of the shot blurry, almost impossible to identify what you were looking at. You knew that Alex could tell that you were struggling and took the camera from you gently, holding it away from you as he pushed his fingers under your shirt, running his fingertips up your side.

“Oh that’s just not going to work now, is it? You’re far too shaky,” He paused a moment, tilting his head before his crooked grin spread, “Why don’t you get on your pretty little knees for me and guide me through with what you mean, yeah?”

Whether you wanted to protest or not, he was already coaxing you down on your knees in front of him, sitting up as he pointed the camera on you, the lens right in your face. “Good, now be a good girl and help me out, yeah?”

But before anything happened, Alex was woken up by the sounds of sirens coming from outside his window. Jolting awake, Alex found himself panting from the sudden alarm that was going off outside along with the intense dream he was having. He sat up, sitting forward to look out his window and saw two cop cars sitting outside the club. Rolling his eyes, Alex fell back into his bed, not caring to watch and see what drunken fool was getting tossed out.

As he laid on his back, rubbing his face to wake himself up, he felt a sudden breeze hit his thighs. Looking down, he scoffed at the outrageous tent in his boxers, his dick standing straight up. He reached his hand up and onto the top of his dick, feeling that his precum had already soaked through.

He hooked his fingers at the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down, shimming out of them before kicking them onto the floor, his dick now proudly standing up. He wrapped his right hand around the base of him, squeezing himself once before beginning to pump, avoiding his swollen head that was still leaking.

A groan escaped his lips as his head fell back, his left hand reaching down to squeeze his balls that were growing tight. God, why did he have to have such a good dream just to be cut off before the good stuff even happened? When he closed his eyes, picturing you on top of him, your breasts bouncing in his face, his mouth fell open with a moan escaping - so faint that it almost sounded like a whine. His pace quickened as he began to stroke himself harder, his hips rocking in his hands as his toes began to curl.

It didn’t take him long to finish, already painfully close when he woke up. He flinched when he felt his own seed hit him in the face, cringing at the warm feeling that now began to roll down down his lips and chin, spilling onto his chest.

“Fuck…” He breathed, catching his breath as he laid in his bed, regaining his focus before deciding that he needed to go take a shower before it dried out on him. Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he held his hand at his stomach so nothing fell and hit the carpet - a mess he did not want to clean up.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Alex was dragging that morning, moving painfully slow to get around and meet with Professor Thorne that morning. It was his day off from work and the last thing he wanted to do was go and meet with him about his senior project. Alex hadn’t even begun to think of his project for class and time was running out. He had just about two months left before it was due - he knew he had time, but deep down Alex knew that he was panicking just a little.

He didn’t bother to wear anything nice - throwing on an old shirt from high school and a pair of faded jeans. It was cold that morning, so he decided it would be best to wear his jean jacket on his ride to campus. Alex could only hope that it would be sufficed.

It didn’t take him long to get onto campus, traffic not as busy as he imagined it would be that morning. He parked in his usual spot, taking his helmet off and sticking it inside the storage compartment under the seat of his scooter. He pulled out his bag, locked up the storage, and headed into the building and to Professor Thorne’s office.

By the time he arrived he noticed that Professor Thorne was just walking in. He looked tired, like he was hungover. Alex couldn’t help the smirk that came to face. He knew it was wrong, but seeing Professor Dick having a rough time only made Alex’s day better. As Alex approached his office, he glanced to his left and noticed your office light on, the door opened. His heart sank, wishing that he could be over there instead of here.

“I wouldn’t bother, she’s been in a piss mood all semester.”

Turning, Alex frowned as Professor Thorne sat at the table, pulling out a notebook while a cup of coffee rested in his hands. He took a long sip, sighing before his eyes looked up at Alex, motioning for him to come in. “Please, come in.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. Walking in, Alex tossed his bag on the ground before settling in the chair across from Thorne, looking down at the notebook to see if he could read what was written. Alex failed to make out anything, noticing how sloppy the handwriting was, before looking up ahead of him at Thorne.

“So, you have about two months left before the end of your semester and your senior project is due. Have you started it yet? You can be honest.” Alex watched as Thorne began to scribble some notes down next to Alex’s name, he assumed that he would be taking notes on what his project plans were.

“I haven’t, no,” Alex cleared his throat and sat up a bit in his seat, “I’ve been busy with work and it’s just kind of slipped my mind. I planned on starting it this weekend though since I have it off from work.” He wouldn’t have been surprised if Thorne was angry with his answer, but to his surprise he wasn’t and just nodded his head, writing down what he said.

“And have you given it any thought as to how you are going to approach the project theme?”

He hadn’t. The theme wasn’t challenging, but it wasn’t something that Alex had ever worked on before. He enjoyed filming rather basic ideas - news reporters, nature...things like that. Filming something that answers the question of ‘how would your life change if you had the number one thing you wanted’ was so out there for Alex that he couldn’t even wrap his brain around what it was that he wanted.

Shrugging his shoulders, Alex crossed his arms over his chest, “Maybe something to do with school? I don’t know, graduating and getting a job.” It was this answer that Thorne stopped in his tracks for. Looking up, he frowned at Alex, his head tilted to the side.

“That’s what you’re going to do? Alex...come on now,” He set his pencil down and copied Alex’s posture, leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest. “I think it’s quite obvious that we don’t like each other all that much, but I would be lying if I said you weren’t one of my favorite students. You’re better than picking a path so simple that a freshman could do it. I want you to think outside of the box. It’s your senior project, I expect senior quality.”

It came to a surprise for Alex to hear that he was one of Thorne’s favorite students. Alex knew that the two weren’t fond of one another, but even so Thorne still enjoyed Alex and his work. Alex, never caring for what Thorne thought of him, felt a weird pain in his chest - was Alex for the first time actually feeling bad for letting him down in some way? No, no not a chance in Hell. Not until pigs flew across the sky.

“I’ll make it senior quality, Professor. That you don’t have to worry about.” Alex replied back flatly. At his response, Thorne nodded and scribbled something down on the notebook before closing it.

“Good, because these are going to be shown at the department celebration at the end of the semester and I expect that you will have the best one there.” Alex nodded his head in understandment, letting out a sigh before looking up at Thorne.

“Was that all that you wanted to discuss?”

Nodding, Thorne watched as Alex stood up, grabbing his bag and turning to leave before stopping in the doorway at the sound of Thorne’s voice.

“If you happen to run into her, would you let her know that I miss her?” He asked suddenly. Alex was glad that his back was facing Thorne, so that he didn’t see him roll his eyes in disgust.

“Yeah, sure.” He answered, although he had no intentions of doing so. Thorne nodded, smiling sadly before he rolled the chair over to his desk, “Thanks, Alex. If you don’t mind, can you shut the door on your way out?”

And he did. As he walked out of his office, he shut the door behind him and took a step to go down the hall before freezing in his tracks. At the end of the hall, only a few feet in front of him, was you - standing with a cup of coffee in your hand and a half-eaten muffin in the other.

It was the first time since January that the two of you had crossed paths. To say that it was uncomfortable was an understatement.

“Good morning, Professor.” Alex greeted casually, trying to not make the interaction anymore awkward than it had to be.

“Alex, hello. How has your semester been?” You felt your throat tighten at the question - you knew how it was going for him, you didn’t even have to ask, because your semester had been going the same.

He shrugged his shoulders, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “As good as it can be, I suppose,” At first he didn’t want to say anything more, his own anger building up inside of him. But he could see it on your face, the guilt that was eating you away. Did you feel bad for shooing him off? The next words came out so fast, that Alex didn’t even have time to stop himself.

“You look really good. I suppose you’ve been having a good year?” He asked, his mouth twitching at the sound of your laugh. Alex didn’t know how much he had missed that sound until hearing it just then.

“I’m glad to hear that someone thinks so. After my birthday it seems like I really started showing my age,” He titled his head to the side in confusion before you rolled your eyes, laughing it off. “I turned thirty-three last weekend. Trust me when I say, once you hit thirty, it all goes down.”

Alex smiled, watching as you tried so obviously to not think too much on the fact that you just had another birthday. “Well if it means anything, I don’t think you look a day over twenty-six,” His own cheeks went pink at the sight of you blushing, your eyes dropping down to the ground, mumbling a thanks. “Did you do anything fun for your birthday?”

Shaking your head, you looked up with a sigh, “Besides the bottle of wine? No, no I just graded papers, drank a little too much, and went to bed. You know, the boring adult life.”

It made Alex frown a little, knowing that your birthday had passed and you didn’t do anything fun. Would it be inappropriate to ask if you wanted to catch up over coffee? As a late birthday celebration? Probably, but he didn’t care. Right now, he was just in the moment and didn’t want to think about all the wrongs of what was going on between them, or at least what he wanted to have happen between them.

He opened his mouth to ask what you were doing, but the words seemed to get lost going out, nothing coming out before he finally clamped his mouth shut, deciding against it. “Well, maybe you and your friends will be able to do something fun this weekend? A late celebration is better than none at all…” Alex paused and watched as you nodded, taking a bite of your muffin. “Well, I should get going. It was- it was nice to see you. I hope the rest of your semester goes well.”

You smiled weakly and nodded, “You too,” You replied, mouth muffled by the muffin. Your attention turned as he walked around you, heading to leave before you found yourself speaking, “Alex?” You asked suddenly, gaining his attention to stop and turn around at you, a confused expression on his face.

“Are you free tonight? Would you want to go get a drink and maybe catch up?” You felt your cheeks grow red and cleared your throat, trying to be casual about it, “I, I realize that I was a bit brash on you earlier this semester, and I’m sorry, but I’d like to think that since you aren’t my student, that it would be fine.”

You weren’t sure if he’d agree, as his expression fell blank. He was probably thinking - but was he thinking of how to turn you down or what to snap at you? Either way, you would have deserved it. He didn’t deserve to get the short end of the stick that you gave him, he was just being a kind person - you were the one over thinking things. As far as you knew, he wasn’t the type of student to go after a teacher in that way.

But he surprised you, and when he agreed - all you could do was smile. “O-Oh! Great! Lovely, would you like to meet outside the Blue Fox around eight? It’s the club down the road from me...I sort of got banned from the Sour Apple so I’m a regular there now.” You admitted, watching as Alex’s eyes went wide, a laugh escaping from you.

“Banned? What did you do?” He asked and you shook your head. Alex grinned at you and shook his head back, “Oh no, you can’t just drop that bombshell on me and then expect me to not ask what happened. Come on, you can tell me.”

And you did, over a basket of mozzarella sticks that night at the Blue Fox. The entire time Alex couldn’t contain himself at your ridiculous story that led to you not being able on the premise. How it led to you grading papers on your thirty-third birthday.

“Wait, wait, so you jumped him?” Alex questioned, laughing as he looked at you, grinning as you shook your head, setting the bottle of beer you were nursing back on the bar.

“Not entirely...I was drunk and dancing on the bar and he kept pestering me to get down. Well something happened behind him and when he turned, I took the chance and jumped on his back,” You couldn’t hold back your own laughs now, shaking your head as Alex grabbed your arm, his head falling back to laugh. “So technically I jumped on him...but I didn’t jump him.”

Rolling his eyes, Alex pulled his hand away from you to grab another stick from the basket, pouring an obscene amount of marinara sauce on before stuffing it into his mouth, nearly choking on the cheese as he swallowed too quickly. “Either way, you got banned from the Sour Apple because you were drunk and dancing on the bar...man, wish I was there to see that. Seems like a great way to end the big thirty-two-”

Before you let him get the last word out, you sent a punch to his arm, grinning as he fake groaned, nudging you back before he licked his fingers, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You weren’t sure if it was the marinara he just barely missed off his face, or the fact that he had been the first person to show you an ounce of kindness in the past month - but either way, you found yourself looking at him as something more than just a student, but Alex. Was this feeling right? No, but for once your brain didn’t try and analyze the situation and let your heart take the lead.

“Listen...again, I’m really sorry for before. I don’t know what came over me to snap at you like I did. All you were doing was showing me kindness and I freaked out. The truth is, between Professor Thorne and I - he’s been trying to get me to go out with him for a while now, and that night I snapped at him because he was accusing me of sleeping around with you,” You laughed at how ridiculous it was to say out loud, “When you took care of me that night I was so embarrassed at how bad I got that night. Usually I’m not the one who needs to be taken care of, and when I found out it was a student of mine that I had known for not even a full two days, well, you can see where I came from.”

You jumped slightly when you felt Alex touch your shoulder, smiling at you before carefully moving his hand to your face, tucking some hair behind your ear to uncover your face. “I get it...now at least. I didn’t back then, and I spent the last month so angry, but now that you’ve told me, it feels like a big weight has been lifted off my shoulders,” He took his other hand and gently turned your face to look at him, staring into each other’s eyes, “You deserve someone better Professor Thorne. That’s why I pressed on so much about him...because I didn’t want you to give in. You deserve someone better, someone like, like-”

“Like you?”

It came out so smoothly it almost felt right. You could tell Alex was taken back by what you had told me because his body retracted back slightly, although his hands still rested on your face. A sad smile spread across his face as he caressed your face for a moment before pulling away.

“No, someone even better.”

Turning back towards the bar, Alex picked his beer up and took a good few sips before settling it back down. You didn’t mean to upset him more, and you wondered if your comment about seeing someone like him made him uncomfortable. He wasn’t though, but you didn’t know, what was going through his head was how head over heels he was for you, and how he finally figured out what he wanted his senior project to be.

How would Alex’s life change if he had the number one thing he wanted? Well for starters, what was it that he wanted so badly? It was you. You. Perhaps it was love at first sight, or whatever cheesy trope this was between the both of you, but he realized that what he wanted was you. And it wasn’t just you in the sense of having drinks and going back to fuck, no, what he wanted was to share the rest of his life with you. Be there for you to rub your feet after work, cook meals together, and tell you every day just how beautiful you were.

So how would his life change? That he wasn’t quite sure on. All he knew was that he wanted you and he’d be damned if he went his entire life without you.

The music shifted from a mainstream flop that repeated every hour in the club and to a slower, more heavier bass song. Watching as those on the floor began to slow their movements, pulling close to their partners, you smiled and glanced at Alex, who was watching too.

“Alex? Would you like to dance?” You were elated when he grinned, nodding his head eagerly before standing up, extending his hand out to help you up before pulling you to the dancefloor. He suddenly wasn’t sure where to put his hands, not wanting to overstep his boundaries. However, you figured that it would just be best to take control of the situation - pulling his hands behind you, you positioned them on your lower back, running your hands up his arms to wrap around his neck.

The blue lights illuminated across his face, alternating with the white light that swayed the other way in the room. It could be a real eyesore at times, but right now, you didn’t even pay attention, all your attention went ahead of you to Alex. Even under the club’s spotlights, you could still tell his sweet face was blushing.

As the two of you rocked hips together, swaying to the beat of the song, you couldn’t help but stare up at him, your fingers moving now across his jawline and to his lips, taking in how soft his skin was. There wasn’t a single wrinkle on his face, hardly any blemishes either - he was perfect.

You suddenly felt conscious with being so close to him and went to move back but was caught to stay in place, feeling Alex’s grip on your waist to hold you in place. “Don’t...you’re beautiful.” He said lowly, moving his hand to cup the side of your face.

Nobody leaned in first - it was so insync that it was like you both mentally had said something to one another. When your lips met, it was almost perfect how well your lips meshed. It would’ve been completely perfect if Alex’s eagerness didn’t get the best of him and knocked his teeth against your’s - even then though, you didn’t care.

You only pulled away when you needed to catch your breath, and when you realized just how many people were watching, hooting and hollering you guys on, you could only laugh and shake your head, covering your face for a moment before looking back up at him. Standing on your toes, you grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him until your lips met his ear - at this point all teacher codes of ethics out the window.

“You wanna get out of here? My car is out back.” You pulled away to see his expression, hoping that he was on the same page as you. When his smile turned into a bigger grin, nodding his head eagerly, you pulled him behind you, him keeping up like a lost puppy.

When you got to your car you fumbled in your jacket to find the keys, biting down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from moaning out as Alex stood behind you, pressing himself up against you as he kissed down your neck. At the sound of the doors unlocking, you turned and grabbed him by the front of his shirt again, spinning him around and pushing him back in the backseat of your car, crawling in after him and locking the car up.

It only took a matter of seconds before he was on you again, holding you down onto his lap as he kissed your lips feverishly, almost desperately. You didn’t mind though, you knew it was so sudden and in the moment that you wouldn’t be taking your time with this. Your hands rested on his neck, keeping his head tilted up as you nipped at his bottom lip, kissing down his face and along his jawline.

“I haven’t had car sex in forever,” You breathed, leaning back to unbutton your shirt. You tried to ignore how hard Alex was staring at you, his chest rising and falling. You wondered if he had ever done something like this before, “You ever have car sex?” You asked, slipping off your blouse and setting it beside you, sitting in his lap now with just your bra on.

He wished that you had nothing on, but given the location, he could get by with having you just have your blouse off. He leaned forward and couldn’t help himself, kissing the tops of your breasts that spilled out of your bra. Sucking dark bruises across your chest before he finally shook his head.

“No,” He explained, his hands moving behind your bra to try and unhook it. He was struggling and his face rested in between your breasts, groaning in frustration. Should he tell you the truth? That it wasn’t just a car he hadn’t had sex in...but sex at all. “I’m kind of...kind of a virgin.” He mumbled against your skin.

You didn’t mean to push him back the way you did, but it came off so sudden that it threw you off. Looking down at him, you held an expression of bewilderment, “You’re...you’re a virgin?”

Now he looked just embarrassed, a frown on his face as he looked down, nodding his head. Did you not want to do it with him anymore? Now that you knew he was a virgin? Of course that wasn’t the case, but you weren’t going to let him lose his virginity in the back of your car. He deserved better than that. You grabbed his cheeks and pushed his head up, smiling at how cute he looked with squished cheeks. Leaning forward, you kissed him once before pulling away.

“I don’t care, okay? But I’m not gonna take away your virginity in the back of a car in some club parking lot,” You looked around the backseat before grabbing a sweatshirt from the very back, slipping it on over you to get out without exposing anymore - not wanting to bother with the buttons of your blouse, “Come on, I’ll drive us back to my place. It’s only about a mile away.”

Climbing off his lap and into the front seat, you grabbed your keys and started up your car, laughing as Alex struggled to climb into the front, nearly kicking you in the process. When he finally was in the passenger seat, settled in and buckled up, you smiled at him and nodded, driving out of the lot and down the road towards your place.

It took maybe five minutes to get back, not even. When you did you parked out front and got out, grinning as Alex rushed out, following you close behind. You weren’t one to usually bring home guests, so this was all new for you. Your brain began to speed think at everything that could possibly be embarrassing that was lying out. You had the couple stuffed animals in your bed, but maybe he wouldn’t pay too much attention to them. Hopefully he didn’t look too long at the awkward younger photos of you with your family.

When you got up to your apartment, unlocking it and pushing the door open, you stepped off to the side to let him in, smiling shyly as he looked around, a smile on his face.

“Uh, if you could take your shoes off here that’d be great..thanks.” You cringed at how much of a mother you sounded like. The dirt wasn’t going to ruin your carpet and if anything, you probably just made him more embarrassed.

But he didn’t seem to take it too much to heart, mumbling out a quick ‘sorry’ before stepping on the back of his shoes to pull his feet out, setting them by the other shoes you had near the door. Before you forgot, you leaned over and locked the door, looking up at him with a smile on your face. You never realized how much taller he was than you until that very moment.

“So, umm, this really your first time?” You asked, smiling when he laughed. “Yeah, just...never found someone I guess.”

His confession made your heart skip a beat, and the anxiety began to settle. You knew you weren’t bad, but you were a bit out of practice. You wanted it to be good for him and you could only hope that you satisfied him enough. As you nodded your head, you took his hand in your own before beginning to pull him out of the living room and down the hall, into your bedroom.

When you got in your room, you took a step towards him, smiling as you leaned forward, pressing your lips gently to his. He took your face in his hands, holding you tenderly as he kissed you back. As the two of you kissed, you reached down and began to tug his belt off, finding the button of his jeans and undoing them, zipping his pants down and pushing them off.

Alex hissed at the cold air that hit his legs, pulling away from you before he accidentally bit you. You smiled and dropped to your knees, your face only inches away from his dick that still stood up under his boxers. “Alex? Has anyone ever sucked you off?”

He went red almost instantly, his face red as he shook his head, watching as you grabbed him through his boxers, slowly pumping him before taking the sides of his boxers and pulling them down, letting his dick spring up in your face. You sat back, staring ahead as you took him in before hearing him moan from above. You were glad to see that he was enjoying all of this.

“Why don’t you go sit on my bed, I don’t need you falling over, okay? Take your shirt off too.” You didn’t mean to come off so demanding, but you wanted him to get comfortable. You watched as he smiled, nodding before pulling off his shirt and tossing it on the ground beside his boxers and jeans, peeling his socks off too before he sat on the edge of your bed.

On your hands and knees you crawled over to him, settling down between him, grabbing his knees and spreading his legs open. You took him in your hand again and leaned forward to finally take him in your mouth before he stopped you suddenly. Looking up, you watched as he shook his head. Oh great, you were moving too quickly, now you freaked him out.

But that wasn’t it at all. He smiled and pulled at your sweatshirt, motioning at how you were still in all your clothes. Looking down, you scoffed and shook your head before standing up, pulling off your sweatshirt again and unclipped your bra, moving down to your jeans to pull the bottom half of your clothes off. You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as he grinned up at you, so lusted over the moment.

When you were back on your knees, you pulled your hair into one hand, holding it back as you prepared yourself for him. Just as your lips were about to touch his tip, you felt his hands in your hair, pulling it back for you so you could have your hands.

Alex was too fucking sweet on you, it made you sick. His gentle movements - holding your hair back, rubbing your back, you almost forgot that this was about him and not you. Looking up to meet his eyes, you kissed his inner thigh before moving your face up, taking his hard dick in your hand before grasping him at the base, your mouth covering him as you pushed your head down until you couldn’t take it any longer.

The moan that escaped Alex as he fell back into your bed was almost too obscene to be real - sounding like it came from one of those horribly made adult films. You grinned around him, sucking him as you began bobbing your head, feeling his hips shift under you, trying to relieve more pressure.

Pulling away with a ‘pop’, you looked up at him as you began to pump his cock, your other hand squeezing his thigh as he sat up, looking down at you. “Fuck...it feels so, so…” He groaned and thrusted into your hand, closing his eyes tight as his hands fell from your hair and down to the sheets, clenching at them as he tried his best not to already finish.

And you knew it was wrong, but your movements began agonizingly slow so suddenly, teasing him as he whined out loud, “So what, Alex? Do you want me to stop?” You smirked a little, watching his face contorted, the feeling becoming too overwhelming for Alex, tears in his eyes.

“No...mommy...I-”

But then your movements did stop. You didn’t mean to, but just like before, he said it so casually that it caught you off guard. He didn’t realize he had even said it until he caught himself saying it again, this time sitting up and opening his mouth, mortified with what he called you.

“I-, oh god, shit, fuck, I-I didn’t mean to call you th-”

Before he had a heart attack, you stood up and leaned forward, kissing him to shut him up. You crouched in front of him, pulling away with a smile. “Alex, shh, it’s fine. Okay?” You had never been called it before, granted you never fucked anyone so much younger than you, but you surprisingly didn’t hate it.

Furrowing his brows, Alex frowned and scooted back for you to rest on his lap, “Really?” You nodded and smiled, wrapping his arms around his neck before kissing him again, “Really, now will you be a good boy and let mommy fuck you?”

Alex swore he had died and gone to Heaven just then. His eyes, lulled down in lust, nodded as you pushed him to lay on his back, climbing onto him fully before beginning to rock yourself onto him, your wet slit running up and down his dick.

“I’m gonna ride you now, okay? It’s gonna be tight so just relax until I adjust before you try anything,” You coaxed, running your hands up and down his chest, watching as he nodded before you reached down and lined him up, sinking down onto him almost instantly.

You both moaned together, your head falling back at how well he filled you up. You didn’t realize how wet he had already made you until he slid into you so easily. You took a minute to adjust to his size before nodding, grabbing his wrists and pulling him to sit up, smiling at how close he was to you now.

“Just tell me what feels good, okay? It’s about you tonight, remember? Not me.” You began to slowly ride him, rising and sinking down onto him as you kissed him, holding his face close to you as his hands rested on your hips, guiding you up and down on him. The slapping noises became louder the wetter you got, and you truthfully didn’t realize you could get that wet.

You could tell he was getting close with how bad he was twitching in you, moaning into your neck now as he buried his face there, you holding his head close. “It’s okay Alex, I got you. You’re doing so good. You’re being a very good boy.” You coaxed, running your fingernails down the back of his neck and spine.

“Mmm, Mommy, I’m gonna cu-”

“Where do you want to cum, baby? Tell me and Mommy will make it happen.” You promised, pushing him back to look down at him, continuing to ride him as your hair now stuck to your sweat covered forehead.

The tears that were in his eyes were now spilling down his cheeks, everything sending Alex overboard with how intense his emotions were. He swallowed the lump in his throat and let out a whine as you asked him again, trying to get him to answer before he finished too quickly.

“I-I wanna cum…” His eyes rolled in the back of his head, grunting as you snapped his hips up into you, panting as he felt your hand on his face, forcing him to look at you and answer you.

“Your tits! I wanna cum on them.” He answered, voice muffled as his cheeks squished together in your hands. You smiled in satisfaction at the answer, nodding before you pushed off him suddenly, whining yourself at the sudden loss of weight in you. You fell to your knees and guided him to stand up, feeling his dick slip between your tits as he fucked them, one hand holding your hair, the other at his side.

You held your own breasts in your hands, pressing them around Alex’s dick as he fucked them, glancing at his free hand as he stroked your face, moving his index finger towards your lips, pushing it between your lips to have you suck on his finger.

And you did, moaning around his finger while his pace quickened, becoming sloppy as he gripped your hair tighter, a little too tight, before suddenly letting go of your hair to grab his dick, pumping it in his hand until his hot spews of cum shot out, coaxing your tits until they were rolling down your chest and stomach.

He didn’t mean to fall, but his knees locked up and he stumbled back onto your bed, panting like he had never panted before, his eyes closed as he tried to regain his focus, ignoring the white specs that danced under his eyelids. You, on the other hand, sat back on the floor, feeling your own climax roll down your thighs, your eyes falling back in your head as you caught your breath.

“That was…” You began, although Alex beat you to the punch.

“Really fucking good.” You could hear how satisfied he was and you could only giggle, nodding in agreement before sitting up slightly, “Yeah, you could say that again.”

When the silence fell over the two of you, you decided to go and get a wet rag to clean you both off with, you yourself too tired to bother with a shower. You wiped yourself off first in the bathroom, rinsing the rag before going back into your room, crawling in the bed beside him to clean him up.

He watched as you cleaned him, a small smile on his face, “Sorry if I finished too quick...it was hard for me to hold it in any longer.” What made his smile grow, however, was the tender kiss you pressed against his temple as you took care of him, “Alex...don’t worry, okay? I enjoyed myself, promise. I’m glad for your first time, it was good.”

Alex sat up fully now, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulled you to him, grinning at the sound of your giggle before kissing your cheek. “It was better than good. It was fan-fucking-tastic.” He leaned down and kissed your bare shoulder before resting his head against your chest, letting you hold him as the two laid in bed.

You wanted to say that it was just from the long day you had, but truthfully you knew that he tired you out. It had been too long since you had something as good as what you had with Alex that night, and your brain was still spinning. As you held him in your arms, stroking his face and running your fingers through his hair, you became tired and felt yourself drifting off.

On the other hand, Alex was still awake, thinking about what had just happened and how every crazy and fucked up dream he had led to this. He felt like a god at this point...okay, maybe that was a bit too far. When he felt your fingers come to a stop, he looked up and saw you sleeping, your breathing steady. He smiled and sat up carefully, not wanting to wake you as he pulled the blankets back and helped you under the covers.

When he placed the covers back over you, he stood up to find his clothes and go to the couch, not wanting to hover too long. Yeah, you guys had just hooked up, but he knew that probably to you that was all that was - a hookup - to him though, well-

“Alex?”

He turned from where he sat beside the bed, his jeans in his hands as he got ready to put them on. He stopped though, moving closer as he looked down at you, letting you take his hand into yours.

“Will you stay with me tonight? In here?”

The innocent plea for his company sent butterflies into his stomach. Nodding, he dropped his jeans back onto the ground before crawling under the covers beside you, freezing for a brief moment at how quickly you curled up to him, hugging him with your head pressed against his chest. Alex found himself smiling, wondering how he got so lucky. Kissing the top of your head, he rubbed your back until the two of you both fell asleep, tangled in each other’s arms.

#sweet disposition #alex kerner #alex kerner imagine #alex kerner smut #alex kerner x reader #alex kerner x you #good bye lenin #goodbye lenin #au #modern #college

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sagemusesoutloud · 3 years

Text

Anti-Romantic, Part 1

(credit to the original owner of the image)

Character | Jaehyun x reader Genre | nonidol!au, Mutual Pining, Slowburn, Fluff WordCount | 3.6 K Author'sNote | lmaoooo the fact that I intended this to be a oneshot type of thing oops. Wellllll, I tried. Most likely to be a two part series, but we'll see.

This is part of a series I intend to call "If Songs were Fics" and this particular one was loosely inspired by TXT's Anti-Romantic bc I'm obsessed. I hope you enjoy reading as much I enjoyed writing it!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

I don't know who loves me

And I don't care, It's a waste anyways

A romantic feeling, Kinda scares me

“Any plans for you birthday next week?”

Jaehyun shakes his head at you, “no, not yet, don’t you have that date with that barista?”

“I’m not sure, he’s been acting weird over text lately. Might not be worth it,” you shrug your shoulders. “Besides, it’s your birthday! You only get one of those a year, we should plan something.”

You were on your way to the gym, a ritual you and Jaehyun had ever since you both found out you worked for the same company. You had been childhood friends, but ended up losing touch since you went to separate universities.

It was a nice surprise to see a friendly face on the first day of orientation and throughout the duration of your training for the next six weeks. Although you were both from different departments, you enjoyed taking your lunch breaks together and sharing small gossip about your old class-mates.

“ugh, don’t remind me,” he let’s out a long sigh, “every year, it seems like my family won’t stop pestering me about starting a family.”

“What’s so wrong about that?”

“Nothing, just not for me. Or at least not yet. I don’t think I’m the type to settle down,” he shrugs again as if it were no big deal.

You gasp, “how could you say that? I’ve seen your insta account. It’s got your cousin’s kids all over it!” You stop to take a good look at him as he holds the door of the gym open for you. “Back in school too, you used to tutor those elementary kids for volunteering hours. Even when you didn’t need them. You’ve always liked kids.”

“That’s different…”

“Right. Totally different things. Got it,” you roll your eyes. This wasn’t the first time he mentioned not wanting to settle down. At first, you had thought it was because he liked ‘keeping his options open’ like back in high-school. Or, not that you knew for sure, but if the rumors were true then it meant he slept his way around. Apparently, he never slept with someone twice and despite the cold shoulder the other party would get, all you had ever heard were praises. Not that you paid that much attention or anything.

You and Jaehyun had the same circle of friends, but despite that, he had never made any advances towards you. You’d be lying if that didn’t bother you at least once or twice. You just assumed that he didn’t want to make the friendship awkward or mess with the friend dynamics of your group. Which was why your crush on him in junior high ended as soon as you got to high-school.

You ended up going on dates with other people, but nothing that kept your interest. Nothing that compared to how you felt around him. Not that he seemed to think the same, so you tried your best to stay the good friend you always have been. You didn’t want to push something he clearly didn’t want; not that it didn’t hurt any less. Throughout the years it’s become bearable, at least. Almost like a painful habit.

You check in and head to the locker rooms to change. His nonchalance about the subject had always puzzled you. You’d seen first hand how all the female coworkers seemed to sway their hips as they walked by him, how some would pop a blouse button more than usual when around him, and you swore no one else was getting that much help throughout training more than him. He was handsome and a gentleman, that much was painfully obvious.

You meet him outside by the water fountain, “ready for warm-up?” he guides your way to the treadmills.

“When’s the last time you dated?”

You would have laughed if you weren’t so shocked to see him trip from the corner of your eye. “why the sudden curiosity?” He finally responds.

“Not sudden, I’d always wondered.” You defended. “You’re good looking and you’re very…I mean, you live on your own and have your own car. You have good relations with your family AND you’re good with kids. So, what is it?” You hadn’t realized how troubling you thought it all was. But now that you started digging you couldn’t stop.

“I just—” you pause, “it doesn’t make sense.”

You hear him chuckle, “you might wanna slow down before you pull something.” You look down and realize that your pace had gone from a relaxed jog to a borderline run during your rant. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to psychoanalyze your only friend in the city.

“Well, I just don’t know how to let people in. It’s just that.” He finally responds. “I love kids, but I don’t know or think I’d be a good partner.” He slows down before stopping, ending the conversation. He waves you off with an easy smile as you stay running.

Huh, maybe you pushed him too far. Your eyes can’t help but follow him around the gym.

Sweet and bitter chocolate, The taste at the end is always the same

Like the saddest movies, Only tears in my eyes

Your hands were sweaty the entire morning, anticipating your lunch time. It was his birthday today, and while you hadn’t made any concrete plans you ended up agreeing to go over to his place after work. Your gym bag was ready with snacks and comfy clothes to stay over. You remembered him saying he was excited to watch that new Marvel movie that had recently come out so you had bought it online to stream it at his place as a surprise. But what had you nervous was the small heart shaped box sitting in your purse. You didn’t know what possessed you to buy it but you had immediately thought of Jae when you passed by it at the mall. You remember vaguely mentioning that it was a special occasion to the sales lady (as in, his birthday), but she must have thought it was your significant other rather than friend because she changed the box to the red velvet shaped one while giving you a wink. In her defense, you could have protested but…why didn’t you?

You hear a knock on your door, “hey little miss sunshine.” Ah, Nakamoto, this couldn’t be good news. He was only sickly sweet to you when he needed a favor.

“What do you want?” you deadpan. He only laughs as he makes himself comfortable in your office. “Well, nothing in particular. Can’t stop by and see how you’re doing?” he feigns hurt.

“Right—the last time you ‘came by’ you left me working over-time through the weekend,” You sigh, “so what is it this time? Missed meeting? Late proposal?” To be fair, your supervisor WAS overworked sometimes. And since you were the only worker under him, it was normal for him to sometimes share some of the load with you.

He smiles at you, “nope. Just have a proposal for you. I know you’ve been working hard these past few months and I’ve been really impressed by your work ethic.” He stands and moves closer to your desk, “And I thought some sort of reward was in order, as well as celebration.” Ok, now you’re confused. You were ok with the reward part, it usually came in the form of a gift card to your favorite coffee shop, but celebration?

“Why would we celebrate? Did I miss something?”

“Not yet, but I did recommend you to the partner position with me. And I wanted to be the first to tell you that the boss approved it earlier today. So, what do ya say? Dinner on me?” he extends his hand out to you and wiggles his eyebrows playfully.

Oh.

Shit! You were hoping this would happen eventually, moving up from the entry-level position you had. But you had never thought it would be this fast. “Oh my gosh, are you serious?” You give him your hand and he shakes it in mock salute.

“Of course, some people will come by to move your computer to the office next to mine. You start Monday!” he winks, “So, wanna go to that new rooftop restaurant? This is a once in a life-time ticket, so you best say yes.”

But your dinner with Jae…He’ll understand, right? He has to. It’s not like he seemed that excited about it anyway. And you could always spend the day together tomorrow, too. It would be pretty rude to turn down Yuta after he pulled some strings for you…

You smile at him, “Thank you Mr. Nakamoto, I won’t let you down as a partner. Yeah, dinner sounds great. Wanna meet there?”

You sit down on the small table, now nervous for other reasons.

Jae sits opposite of you, a small smile on his face. “Hey you,” he greets.

“hey…” you start, “I hate to change plans so suddenly, but…” crap, you feel really shitty. But you really were between a rock and a hard place.

“everything ok?”

“yeah, no. I actually just got promoted,” you start.

“You did? That’s awesome! So fast, too. Wow—but shouldn’t you be more enthusiastic about it?” he chuckles.

“I am, just—my old supervisor wanted to go to dinner to celebrate. And I don’t think I could say no after helping me out like that.”

“I mean, did you want to skip it or?” Now he’s confused.

“Well, he wanted to go out tonight since I start Monday and today’s Friday…I don’t think I can come over tonight,” you explain.

Realization crosses his features before he gives a small smile. “Don’t worry about it, you’re fine. And he’s treating you! You don’t know when the next time he offers might be,” he continues, “we can celebrate another day anyway.”

“Are you sure?” now you feel like shit.

“Of course I’m sure.”

For the rest of the lunch, a thick silence settles before he excuses himself back to work.

Jaehyun knew this was coming. Nothing ever went his way; it’s why he kept everyone at a distance from his heart. But he was weak when it came to you. This game of push and pull was bound to keep happening, and it only brought him that all familiar foul taste in his mouth.

I know, that sweet love song, Those words of promise

When you turn around, It's just an unfamiliar someone

It was why he decided to go else-where for university, instead of joining you and some of your friends to the one closest to home. He chose to go across the globe—far, far away from the curse of you.

It had started on a windy day, back when you were 4 and new to the town he grew up in. Jaehyun didn’t want to leave his mother’s arms, he didn’t like the thought of being with strangers until later in the day even if his mom promised that she would be back. A little girl with jean overalls like his came up to him and his mom, “why are you crying?”

“I am not!” he sniffed. He didn’t need to make new friends like his mom was trying to tell him. All he needed was to go back home. You took out something from your pocket and showed it to him, “look, my mom said I could give one to my first friend. She said it was sharing. Want one?”

In her little palm, were two kiss chocolates. “You’re not my friend,” he grumbled, “I don’t know your name.” At that, you giggled, “I’m Y/N!” you took his hand and placed a chocolate there, “there, now we’re officially friends.”

“See, Jae? You can spend some time with Y/N and have fun. Before you know it, I’ll be back,” she promised.

“Yeah, Jae! Come play blocks with me, and then we can try the coloring.” You held his hand as you led him deeper into the classroom. Just like that, Jae began to feel a little warmth in his chest. He didn’t mind that his favorite thing to do was play tag outside or that he wasn’t really good at coloring inside lines yet. But that didn’t matter to him. As long as he had this one friend around, he was content.

Sorry I'm an anti-romantic, I want to run far away

My heart that already chases after you, Blazes up as a small flame

Looking back at it now, it was a little funny. All it took to let you in back then was a simple chocolate kiss and your little sticky hand in his leading the way. You were always larger than life to him, sometimes he forgot that you were just as human as him.

As you two continued to grow, nothing seemed to change your friendship. But he knew that the depth of his feelings wasn’t mutual. It was in the way that you brought a lot different people together and decided to call it your family. Another of your friends, Jungwoo, liked to joke that you collected introverts for fun. To Jaehyun, it was more likely that you just didn’t see the fun in leaving people out. You were charming and passionate. Traits he wished he had. Your empathetic nature and gentle disposition were all that Jaehyun needed, even if he wasn’t the only recipient.

Once you guys started to hit puberty, things started to feel rocky. Jaehyun couldn’t help but physically distance himself from you, his ears were always red-hot. You had always been pretty to Jaehyun, but you were starting to become really beautiful. And if the boy’s locker rooms’ talk were anything to go by, then other people were definitely starting to realize “what a great catch” you were.

It really pissed him off. Who were they to say things as if all you were was a piece of meat? It disgusted him. But what disgusted him more was the fact that sometimes, he couldn’t help but also feel the way your body felt in his when you hugged in greeting. He hated the way his body reacted to everything you did.

He first messed around with a senior girl back when he was a sophomore, Sooyoung. She was leaving and he couldn’t take it anymore. Your boyfriend was a piece of trash and he was tired of hearing the way he would share what Jae considered to be intimate moments that had no business being public. But you seemed so happy… that next game, Jae stole the ball from him and scored on his own. Even if it cost him a three hour lecture from the coach, he would do it again. Fuck being a team, that guy was an asshole.

What he hadn’t planned on was liking messing around. He would never admit it, but the reason he couldn’t commit was because he couldn’t get rid of that small grain of hope that glowed in his chest every time you stared at him longer than would be deemed normal. It wasn’t often, but he knew he wasn’t seeing things. So, he succumbed to the cycle of push-and-pull that you guys had going on.

Jaehyun wasn’t blind, he knew that your work definitely spoke of your professionalism, but he’s also seen the way Nakamoto stared after you. Of the way his hand would often touch your waist when walking together. Even now, as he hears you apologize through the phone again as you get ready for your “date” with him he can’t help this heart feel heavy with anger. Anger at himself, for letting you slip away once more. He usually hopes for nothing but the best for you, but this time, he wishes you had an awful dinner.

Sorry I'm an anti-romantic, I don't believe in romance

I'm afraid that after burning my whole heart, It will only leave behind ashes

Throughout the entire dinner, you can’t seem to get Jae out of your mind. It keeps you from enjoying the delicious food, keeps you from keeping your usual banter with Nakamoto.

You’re about to call it a night and thank Nakamoto for inviting you out when he beats you to it, “damn, I was hoping this might be a good break from the usual overtime we do, but something tells me your mind has been elsewhere,” he offers good naturedly, “I know it’s valentine’s, so maybe this is why we feel so awkward, right?”.

You grimace a bit at that, “ah—I’m sorry. I really am grateful for the way you look after me in the company and I’m also thankful for this lovely dinner,” you stop a bit, afraid you might offend him, “I agreed to come out tonight, so no need to feel awkward.” You offer a smile.

“Alright then. I guess you already have your sights on someone?” he prods. Should you be honest? There was no rule against dating outside your department, and you were pretty sure your new boss’s wife also worked within the company. “…I do. But I’m pretty sure they don’t feel the same way. It’s been so long since we’ve known each other. Surely if something were to have happened, it would have by now.” You were loosening up, definitely the wine’s fault.

Nakamoto sighs at that, “damn, and here I thought I could woo you after this,” he winks jokingly but you laugh him off. You knew he didn’t care for you that way. “I really hope you’re talking about the guy you always eat lunch with. I swear everyone thought you guys were married when you were released from training.”

“What?! No, I—we’ve been friends since we were children—”

“Aha! So it was him then,” he smirks. “Good.”

You groan, “Please, no.”

“What, it’s not him? You sure about that?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny that statement,” you groan. Why were you discussing your love life? You push the wine away and take a sip of your water.

“Hmm. That’s too bad. Could have sworn that guy was after you.” He stands up. “But fine, I’ll stop prodding.”

You sigh in relief—“for now.” You groan. “What do you even mean by that? You don’t even know him. Or me, or at least personally at least.”

“Mmm, I don’t have to. Some things you just know. Like how he wishes I was six feet under every time we run across him at work,” he sobers up at that. “He seemed like a cool dude, but his glare isn’t too friendly. I don’t know how you fell for that.”

You scoff, “just because someone has a resting bitch face doesn’t mean they’re a bad person.”

You both make your way to the underground parking. “You’re right, it just makes them unapproachable. Is that why you won’t confess?” His genuine tone rubs you the wrong way, you don’t need be given false hope.

“Stop it, you said you would drop it,” you frown, “Anyways, thank you for the food boss—”

“—not your boss anymore. Just call me Yuta, we’re partners now.”

“Aren’t you two years older than me?”

“And?”

You shrug at that, “well, thanks Yuta. For the food, not for the interrogation.” He chuckles at that, nodding while pulling out his car keys. “see you Monday!” he waves you off.

You sigh as you get home. It wasn’t as late as you thought it was, only a few minutes past nine. You really wanted to see him. Would he be busy?

You fish out your phone and dial his number before chickening out.

“Hello?”

“Jae! It’s me. Are you busy right now?” your heartbeat is pounding so loud, you’re scared he could hear it on the other end. “Right now?” you hear shuffling on the other end, “no, I was just reading that book Jungwoo sent me. Might have dozed off a bit into it but don’t tell him I said that,” he chuckles.

“Why, is everything ok? It’s still early, did you end dinner that fast?”

“Oh, Yuta and I called it a night pretty early. Too many couples were out and about and it got a bit awkward,” you explained.

“Yuta?”

“Ah, yes. Yuta Nakamoto, but now that we’re associates, he said it would be better to address him less formally.” You waive him off, “actually, I was wondering—if it’s not too late, can I still come over? If not, that’s cool. We can still hang out tomorrow, but your birthday is today and I thought—”

He laughs at your rambles, “of course you can come over, you know you don’t have to ask. How many times have I told you that?”

“Ok, ok. Just checking,” you still had your comfy change of clothes in your car, so you opt to save those for tomorrow and change into something causal for tonight.

“Do you want me to go get you? We can get ice cream on the way, hopefully they don’t close early.”

“Sounds like a plan then,” curse your heart for melting at everything he says.

“Alright, give me 15 and I’ll be there.” He hangs up.

You look at your bag, resting on your sofa and you sigh. The entire night, it’s almost as if you could feel the weight of his gift weighing it down. Yuta is known for being very observant, it’s why he was so good at his job. Closing deals and making contracts in advertisement. Would he be right about this? You know you desperately wish he was, but is it worth risking your best friend?

EndNote | Woooow, that was a longass ride. Let me know if you liked it or if there are other typos I missed! Or just to let me know what you thought, that would be much appreciated. I'm thinking of finishing it by Sunday 6/13, so hopefully the next part is up by then. Until then!

Here's Part 2!

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