#the guy who got fucking hand sanitizer like he was bored. the one sitting on his cellphone outside. i'm sick i'm Sick.

[tdinyomomma]

TDWT- Cody X Reader- The Award Winning Actress (Chapter One)

“[Name] you look good, let’s go.” My agent shouted from outside my room as she was heading in.

 I roll my eyes, placing a medical mask on my face. Due to me going to a crowded award show there was no way I was not wearing it. I normally don’t unless there’s a huge, huge crowd. I also had a mini hand sanitizer on the belt loop of my jeans but I always have that on me. 

“I know I look good but people need to know it’s me showing up.” I step back from the mirror and check myself out.

“I’m sorry hun, but you’re the only actress I know that shows up to crowded places like this wearing a mask. I think they’ll recognize you perfectly.” She comes up, rubbing my arm. 

“Also, the limo is waiting so come on.”

I let out a breath, following her out of the building.

We get to the award show, I step out of the limo, immediately cameras are flashing. I notice a girl with magenta hair jump over the rope and excitedly runs up to me. 

“You’re [Name] [Last Name]!” She yells grinning, I awkwardly smile from beneath the mask. 

“Uhm, yes?” I glance around, wondering why no security has snatched her up from the carpet. “I’m Sierra! Huge fan, besides all my total drama blogs I have like six of you!” She exclaims, trying to grab my hands but I back away. 

“Thank you?” I raise a brow, this girl seems psycho. “Did you know Total Drama would be here tonight?” She asks me. 

“Who?” I adjust my mask, then fold my arms at my chest.

“Chris McLean’s reality show cast!” She says and that’s all I needed. 

That Chris guy begged me to go on his show in the first season, and second but of course I was too busy for that. I had upcoming big movies I was starring in. But for this next season no one knows that my agent actually signed me up for it since I don’t have anything coming up anytime soon. I wanted to take a break but it’s whatever I guess.

“Oh, right. I’ve heard of that.” I nod my head. 

“I need to get inside though, thank you for the questions.” I politely moved past her, “Of course! I love you [Name]!” She screams after me and I wince from the noise.

I get inside of the building, getting to my seat and I look at the names of who I am sitting by. I let out a tiny groan seeing “Chris McLean” in bold letters.

“Oh,” He pops up behind me, taking a sip of some drink. “What’s up, [Name]!” He goes to high five me but I stare at him. 

“Right, germaphobe, not liking of the germs.” He slyly puts his hand into him pants pocket. I look around him, “Where’s your cast?” I scrunch my face in confusion. 

“Right over there, sweetheart.” He points to a table full of… different looking people, well one is a fucking bear and another is a gorilla. My eyes widen then I turn back to him and give a dirty look. “I was told I was working with humans, Chris.” I glare at him. He gets closer to me.

“Don’t worry, we’re using the original crew but I gotta get attention somehow.” He winks, I unconsciously sigh, and I hear him chuckle underneath his breath.

We take our seats just as the music starts. It was very long, and boring. I won three Gemmy awards, which were my only nominations so I finally got to sit back at my seat and watch the rest of the show.

One of the guys that came in with Chris was now on the stage announcing the next award. 

“Next up, best reality ensemble!” He grins, holding a white card. “Envelope please? And the winner is….” The drumroll plays as the dude takes forever to open the damn thing. 

“Golden Oldies in their undies!” He throws his hand up, we all cheer for the winning ensemble. Once it calms down there’s just one more announcement. 

“And the Gemmy for the best reality show host goes to, once again. Chris McLean!” The guy shouts, Chris gets up from his seat, walking onto the stage. 

“Wow, hey, thanks again.” He laughs. “But I couldn’t have done it without a great bunch of people from Total Drama Action. The interns, the caterers, the camera crew, and the real stares of the show, my stylists.” I look around but nobody questions why he didn’t thank the teens that even joined the show, also we’re supposedly lied to about what it even was.

“Tomorrow, I’ll introduce the cast of my new reality series, Total Drama Dirtbags on the Orpha show.” He smiles cheekily, he goes back to sit at our table.

The next day, I’m on the bus with that one random crew Chris has. 

Suddenly another bus hits ours from the side, knocking the boy who I learned is named Alejandro from his lazy driving into a more serious and focused one. He looks panicked as he grabs the wheel, I lean up behind his seat. 

“What’s happening?” I questioned. “If I knew, don't you think I would have a handle on it, princess?” He snaps back and I squint my eyes, the bus now in front of us, the back emergency door swings open to reveal some goth girl.

 Then she moves and some caramel or chocolate candy splats onto our front window.

After the second splat Alejandro turns on the wipers. “Oh, you’re gonna regret this!” He shouts, now fully focused in. 

“Ha! You messed with the wrong reality show cast, mister!” A girl wearing a maroon red crop top smirks.

The red eyed gorilla growls, throwing his fist in the air outside of the bus, but instead of being intimidating he got chocolate and caramel to the face. I cross my arms watching in disgust.

“Can you do something?” I quizzed, wanting to take over the stupid bus but I didn’t know how many germs were on that steering wheel. “Just watch, princess.” He goes back to his lazy driving, earning some sort of cool back as the cheap bus in front of us was going off of the road now.

My eyes widened, noticing the cliff that they were just feet away from now, a tire popped off on the right side as well. “They aren’t gonna make it.” I grab onto Alejandro, squeezing my eyes shut, hearing the sound of the bus tipping over.

After the silence of not hearing a crash, I carefully open my eyes, glancing over to see Alejandro smirking, I shove him away causing him to grunt and I use a lot of hand sanitizer. 

“Gross.” I mumble.

Alejandro kept driving though, he didn’t even stop to see if they were okay. 

That whole night it was on my mind… sort of. If they’re dead or hopefully just injured it meant I didn’t have to do this stupid show. No offense to them but I have better things to do then win a decimal percentile of the amount of money I have.

Did you guys forget, I am a world famous, award winning actress?

Anywho, the next day I guess Chris went and got most of the teens, he took us to this set and had Alejandro and I cook pancakes. Me… cook pancakes. I don’t know what my agent signed me up for but I am certainly not liking this treatment.

Al and I take plates of the pancakes and place them down, well I slam them down pretty much. Alejandro goes back to the kitchen but I just sit down at one of the tables, watching the teens gawk from my existence. 

I smile a little bit but before they can even say anything or fangirl Chris decides to declare something. “I have an announcement.” He grins, “Now we all know that nobody does drama like you guys.” He then winks at me and I roll my eyes. 

“Duh, but what happened to Total Drama Dirtbags? And why is a world famous actress here with us?” That one girl that wore the maroon red crop top from before questions the host. 

“It was a trick, there never was any Total Drama Dirtbags.” Alejandro speaks up from the kitchen. Someone’s salty. 

“Is that true?” She asks. 

“Well, mostly.” Chris shrugs.

“I did come up with the name. But anywho, I needed to find out if you kids still had it.” Chris does finger guns. 

“What about Alejandro? And again why is this world famous actress here?” The girl repeats herself, and I’m thinking she doesn’t really like the fact that she had to.

“A dupe just like the rest of you. I needed someone on the inside. But to make it up, I told him he can join you guys next time. And about [Name] here-” 

“He begged for me to be on the show, calling and emailing my agent and even my parents. He got my agent at a good time and I guess I had an opening so she signed me up on a contract I can’t back out of.” I cut him off, leaning back against the table.

“Whoa! You have your own lip gloss line!” A blonde yells from across the room, startling me, she was excitedly clapping her hands. I nod but before I can speak up a kid spoke up. 

“Hold on, what next time?” Noah asks, I only know his name because he was Chris’s assistant one of the times they came to my agent’s office.

“A no-holds-barred race around the world in a jet!” The host declares, chuckling.

“After all the crap you put us through? As if.” That goth girl scoffs. 

“Don’t you wanna be famous again?” Chris taunts, basically holding bait over their head. 

“Pass.” A boy with a green mohawk says, hands behind his head. 

“What about cash?” He pulls out two large green bags of money. “The chance to win, oh, one million dollars?” After those words they all start cheering.

I was again hoping they stuck to not wanting to do this but oh well. I guess we’re celebrating now.

“Looks like I’m back for another season. And I’ll be keeping a much closer eye on Gwen. So not trusting that boyfriend stealer.” Courtney proclaims.

Harold puts his arm around Leshawna who gasps. “Get your hands off of me.” She shoves him. He falls to the ground. “Oh, I thought we could form an alliance. Check it.” He gets back up and starts beatboxing, even putting her name in it. She slaps a hand over his mouth to stop him from going any further.

“OMG, this is my first confessional ever. I am so excited. I never thought I would be on Total Drama, my favorite show in the whole world. And I’m doing it with [Name] [Last Name] my all time favorite actress! Talking to all my favorite tv stars is so fab.” Sierra grins. “Now I will finally put to rest all those Cody and [Name] blog questions like how many freckles does Cody have on his back? What kind of shampoo and perfume does [Name] use? How many times does Cody sleep facing west? And what songs do they sing in the shower!?? Ohh, my. That last question will definitely be a six-month analysis. Oh yeah!” Sierra the official new weird girl, stalker thinking about her two celebrity crushes.

“Ho, ho, homies. Get in the focus and take notice. I’m what is. Oh, yeah, that’s show biz, uh-uh-uh-uh-uh huh!” Ezekiel tris to be smooth by leaning back but ends up falling backwards.

“I miss you already Geoff! Wait for me, schmoopie poo! I’m gonna win it for both of us!” Bridgette then holds her face, crying into her hands.

“You know what they say. Third time lucky. This could be my season!” Gwen points to herself confidently.

“Hey, I’m game. Bring it, Chris.” Duncan swings around a knife before stabbing it into the vanity in front of him.

“Watch out, Total Drama nerds. The new guy is going all the way to the top.” Alejandro points a finger in the camera.

“Don’t you worry, mama. I’m gonna win this one and buy you a big old house and maybe a new bus.” DJ rubs the back of his head.

“Mm, pancakes.” Owen disgustingly eats, squirting syrup into his mouth.

“I can’t wait to find out where we’re going first. 23 percent of my bloggers say we’re going to India. And 10 percent say that Chris is lying to us and that he��s actually going to film us in an old bomb shelter. Ha! As if.” Sierra blows raspberries, not believing it. 

“I’m a third generation Chris McLean scholar okay? I could tell if he’s lying to us by his vocal range and body language. Only someone who has an extensive knowledge of Total Drama could catch that. BTW did you know Chris wears 32x31 pants? And only buys them at strutty’s pants and jewelers? He also has three dogs named Banjo, Todd and-” 

“Sierra, get out, I have to go next.” [Name] is heard from the outside of the dressing room. Sierra's eyes light up. “That’s [Name]! Ah! OMG!” She fangirls. [Name] enters the room with a bored expression. 

“Before I go, did you know [Name] is from France!” Wee- wee!” She giggles but then [Name] is standing over her, sighing. 

“Go, please.” The actress points to the door. 

“Oh right! Of course! Want me to wipe down the seat? I know you’re a germaphobe because when you were a kid you-” “Get. Out.” She cuts the psycho girl off and the taller girl finally leaves, giggling.

[Name] lets out a breath, quickly wiping the seat down and just as she sits down the camera dies.

First chapter is out! also I was supposed to post this last night but I was super sleepy and ended up sleeping almost my whole day away after work so. I apologize but here this is. I hope to maybe get another chapter out tonight but it might be tomorrow and then the next day will be a post for Heather's story:)

Link to other writings

taglist: if you want to be added lmk!

@marsyay78

@ghostdoodlen

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[mymarifae]

when will bootlicking americans learn that the police and military are literally not here to help us... they're not your heroes. they don't deserve your praise and your respect. the absolute lack of care during the uvalde shooting. i hope all those cowards burn in hell.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑭𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝑫𝒐𝒘𝒏 (𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒊 𝑺𝒂𝒏) 𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)/ 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞)

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐍𝐨𝐧-𝐈𝐝𝐨𝐥! 𝐀𝐔

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞/ 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧)

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓.𝟓𝐊

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐒𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬.

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐉𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐀𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬

ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.

Taking the milkshake glasses off the counter and making sure the space was throughly wiped down and sanitized, San's eyes looked up when the familiar midnight blue Nissan sedan, whose model he'd never given a damn to memorize, parked in front of the restaurant, signaling the arrival of the person working the closing shift that day. His heart practically somersaulted when he caught glimpse of the soft, silky [insert color] hair stepping out of the vehicle, the owner such pretty hair owning an equally beautiful face. While his heart pounded, his stomach turned sick when he saw the driver come out as well, going over to where she was, whispering a goodbye in her ear. To anyone passing by, it'd look like a normal couple, a boyfriend bringing his girlfriend to work and giving her a kiss, no doubt promising to pick her up later.

But San knew better.

His eyes always caught on to the way she stepped back slightly, her arm folding across her body when his hand reached out to caress it, his fingers no doubt gripping down harshly on her skin. She didn't kiss him back, she just allowed him to place his lips momentarily on hers before patting her cheek lightly with his palm and soon going back to his vehicle and driving away. He watched her take a deep breath before she felt ready to go inside and start her shift.

"Hey Y/N!" He did his usual friendly and warm way of greeting her, his smiling eyes and dimples putting a genuine smile on her own somber countenance.

"Hi San. How's it been?" She inquired as she punched her number in.

Shrugging his shoulders, he sighed.

"Same as almost every Wednesday. Dead, boring and mostly the regulars or just travelers."

She shook her head, already mentalizing herself that it'd be another day spent cleaning what's already clean and over stocking the merchant just to pass time. She went inside the office to put on her uniform shirt and apron. San in no way ever peeked in to see her cause he was a pervert, he respected her and would never allow himself to think of any inappropriate scenarios involving her. However, he would always sneak a tiny glance every now and then for one particular reason. Tilting his head slightly so he could see through the tiny cracked door, he watched her take off her denim jacket and felt his grip tighten on the glass cup he was currently drying when he spotted some purple blotches on her bicep. He immediately looked away as he did not want to get angry in front of her. He hastily put the cup back in the shelf under the counter, throwing the rag onto the marble counter in a rather aggressive manner.

"Ok San, tell me what needs to be finished."

Coming out in full uniform and hair held up with her usual choice of a colored scrunchie, this day choosing yellow, Y/N looked at her coworker and waited for him to give her a task.

"Nothing really except wait on customers. I already stocked the fridge and pulled out the stuff needed from the freezer."

He was always doing that, doing not only his side workload but also hers, which more often than not had her pouting at him.

"So I'll just be bored to death?" She huffed.

Chuckling, San stepped closer to her, making sure to keep an elbow distance from her, knowing she tended to get apprehensive when someone came to close to her than she was comfortable with.

"Not really. There's plenty of things to amuse yourself with. Besides.......maybe now you won't hurt yourself so much from lifting heavy objects..."

His tone lowered involuntarily at that last part. He knew very well the bruises weren't cause she'd accidentally hit herself on the railings in the back because she lost her balance carrying stuff in and out of the freezer. She herself tensed up a little at his words.

"Oh right......heh.....clumsy me right?" She tried to plaster an unfazed smile on her face, only succeeding about halfway.

Unable to control his movements, San's hand reached out to tuck some of the hair slipping out of her ponytail behind her ear. It hurt him to no end when she flinched slightly at his movement, he could feel her tensing up when his fingers made contact with her temple. As he squinted his eyes, he could make out the uneven patch of concealer and powder on the area close to her hairline, a tiny hue of reddish purple peeking slightly through. She relaxed when he finally retreated his hand.

"Just try to be careful and take care of yourself. I don't like seeing you get hurt."

She probably didn't know, or maybe she did, he was painfully obvious when it came to her, that he meant what he said in more ways than one.

"You too....see you San."

Once more, he held himself back from blurting out everything that was kept in his chest, instead opting for giving her a farewell and going out to the parking lot to get inside his red 1989 Ford f150 and drive over to his friend's house, the bunch of them waiting for him to complete his shift and come over to their place.

ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.

"Aish seriously San, just forget about her. Plenty of fish in the sea." One of the pair of giants told him as he chugged back the remnants in his bottle.

"And you have a lot of fish waiting for you to reel in your rod so they can bite right in." His friend sitting next to him wiggled his eyebrows at him.

"Stop you guys." San pushed the blonde away.

"Mingi and Wooyoung are right though San. You have girls and guys lined up all willing to drop their pants for you at anytime. Lucky bastard." Yunho, the other half of the giant squad chuckled lowly.

"I don't want any of them though... you guys don't understand." San looked down at the floor.

The other blonde haired male in the room, Yeosang, rolled his eyes at him, unable to understand his infatuation for the girl.

"You've been pining for her since high school. When are you going to let her go? She chose and still chooses to this day Lee Taeyong."

Slamming his fist on the table, San angrily looked at him.

"Don't fucking mention that asshole's name near me!"

Everyone grew quiet, the members who were bordering on getting tipsy suddenly sobering completely up as if there was absolutely no drop of alcohol in their system. San was usually a very friendly and sweet person, but he was also sensitive and emotional, and lately he'd manifest it through anger and rage, and it was truly terrifying to them. But they knew he had reasons for lashing out like that. They knew his hatred for Taeyong, not just for being able to score the girl he'd been in love with for ages, San would have stayed content and wholeheartedly happy had she'd been loved and cared for like she deserved to be. But instead, he had to watch as she was constantly belittled and sometimes shoved hardly into the ground, landing her scraped knees or bruised palms. He could only imagine what went on behind closed doors.

"San......you have to accept reality, all of us do whether we like it or not. Her friends aren't blind to what's happening to her. Teacher's at university aren't either, they've all tried approaching her about it.....she won't listen to anyone." Yunho decided to finally say what everyone was thinking.

"She doesn't deserve it! It's toxic and sick!" He cried out in desperation.

"But ultimately it's her choice........ you can't force her to get help or leave if she doesn't want to. She's been with him for years."

Unwilling to hear anymore, San quickly picked up his leather jacket and stormed out the house. He drove the streets like a mad man, his fist hitting the steering wheel every time he stopped at a red light. He would have continued his angry drive back to his place had he not spotted an all too familiar denim jacket walking on the road. Slowing down the truck, he pulled closer to the right side and stopped right in front of the figure trembling in the cold night air.

"Y/N?" He rolled down his window so she wouldn't be startled by some stranger suddenly pulling up next to her.

"Oh! Hey San!" She said through chattering teeth.

"You're walking home all alone?" He could not believe this.

"Uh....yeah! My boyfriend got caught up at work....didn't want to bother him so I'm walking home...it's not that far!" She tried to sound reassuring, but he could see right through her.

"You want a ride?" He offered.

She hesitated for a moment, wondering if it'd be a good idea or not.

"Hey it's ok. I'm not going to kidnap you or anything. I'll just drive you straight home. We don't even have to talk if you don't want. Just you, me and some old jams playing on the radio all right?"

Unable to resist that dimple smile that always made her feel fuzzy inside, she allowed him to open the door for her from the inside. After giving him her address, she found he stayed true to his word and just drove in silence the entire time. She was kinda thankful for it. She was tired after her shift, exhausted from walking and from how late it was, and more than anything, she felt like she was going to spill tears any minute if she even got out a single word. She felt worn out, her head resting on the window, eyes opening and closing as tiredness began to overtake her. She only awoke when she felt a light hand caress her cheek. In other circumstances, she would have immediately swatted the hand away and pushed the face near her own as far away as possible. But she didn't do that, she felt strangely safe and protected by the male next to her as he brushed some hair off her face.

"We're here. Safe and sound just like I promised."

Safe.........

For some reason she felt anything but safe as she looked at the house in front of her.

"Thanks San." She smiled weakly at him as she began taking off her seat belt.

"Call me if you ever need a ride. I mean it. I don't want you catching a cold...or-or worse..." He admitted.

"Thank you, really. Good night. I'll see you tomorrow."

She took slow steps to the front door, San didn't drive away until he confirmed she was inside. With a heavy heart, he drove away back to his place, unaware that the girl he dropped off was watching through the peephole his departure, still staying there moments after he had disappeared from sight. She sighed despondently as she dropped her bag onto the floor, slumping her body onto the couch as it was useless to try to go sleep in the bedroom given the pornographic moans and thumping noises coming from inside it. Wouldn't be the first or last time she came home to such sounds. She simply curled up into a fetus position, falling asleep in the usual way:

Tears falling out of the corners of her eyes.

ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.

"What do you mean she's not coming?"

San nervously gulped as his boss told him Y/N's boyfriend called to say she had a little accident and couldn't go in that day. He knew it was bullshit and he was going to find out what really happened. After going to classes the next day, he actively searched around campus for any signs of her or Taeyong. After asking around, a girl motioned to the football field, saying that's where they'd often go to at times. San squinted his eyes as he looked all over for them, finally spotting them near the bleachers. His fist tightened as he watched Taeyong once again put his filthy hands on Y/N, shoving her to the ground, making her land face first, her palms outstretched and scraping against the grass under her. He watched as Taeyong simply walked away, leaving her there, not caring about if she was seriously injured or not. Unable to hide any longer, San sauntered over to her, his arms picking her up from the ground.

"Y/N it's me!"

He didn't mean to shout at her, but having her scream and cover her head protectively gave him no other option. He nearly began crying himself when she lifted her head, her eyes full of fear and panic.

"Oh! It's you San! Sorry for that!"

As she stood up, she began dusting the dirt off, ignoring the throbbing pain in her ankle. Faking a smile, she giggled nervously.

"Clumsy me again, tripping on some-"

"Y/N stop lying to yourself. I saw everything."

Her face darkened at his words, her eyes becoming glued to the floor as she avoided his gaze like she did the others. She hated seeing their pitiful stares and shameful eyes, she believed San probably had the same look as well. She couldn't be more wrong as his eyes just looked at her in despair and agony.

"Why? Why do you put up with it? Why do you stay with him? Why do you torture yourself like this?.....

Why do you love him?"

He asked that last question more to himself than her. Y/N crossed her right arm over her chest, her hand clutching her left bicep as she gently massaged the muscle there. San knew it was the same bruised arm he had seen a few days ago, it was probably even more battered up than the last time he saw it.

"I can't......I don't know....."

Seeing her struggling to form words, San opted for gently hovering his hands around her, maneuvering and ushering her to sit on the bleachers without ever laying a single finger on her. Opening his backpack, he took out the mini first aid kit his older friend, Seonghwa, had given him, actually deciding to put it to use for once.

"I'm going to clean these scrapes ok?"

He looked at her and waited til she gave him permission to touch her. She did not flinch away at all when he began wiping off the dirt and blood accumulated on her knee or hands, only momentarily when he applied the disinfectant spray on her wounds.

"Sorry." He apologized.

"It's fine.......I'm used to hurting...." She finally admitted.

He wanted to speak up again, but found it hard to find the right words. He focused on applying ointment on her wounds and bandaging them up nicely.

"How long has he pushed you around?" He needed to know.

"Started 3 months after we became official.....but even before that, he'd often tease me and what not........ it doesn't hurt ....." She lied once more.

"The Y/N I knew never lied even to save her life. Sad how someone like him managed to change that." He finished wrapping the gauze around her knee.

"I haven't changed at-"

"Yes you have." He interrupted once again.

"The Y/N from then was a cheerful, happy ray of sunshine known for her bubbly personality and kindness to others. She loved going out with friends and hated staying indoors for too long. She was always honest and ready to help anyone in need, especially cute abandoned animals, she was a real softie for them."

She chuckled softly at his words, not denying any of it.

"I still am soft for them." She corrected him.

"But you're no longer happy. You're sad, somber and being in pain all because of an asshole who doesn't deserve you.......he doesn't deserve your love."

Although she heard him and wanted to believe his words, her mind blocked out such reasoning.

"But he does love me.......he swears it....every time it happens, he apologizes and promises-"

"It's all lies Y/N! He doesn't love you! If he loved you he wouldn't hurt you physically and emotionally. He wouldn't be the reason why you're only a shell of the person you used to be. He doesn't love you and he'll never love you..."

She let his words sink, trying to digest what he was saying.

"I know because I've loved you for so long and I'd never even think about putting you through half of what he has."

She whipped her head up at his words, seeing the earnest and emotion in his eyes as he finally confessed what was in his heart.

"San......" She was left speechless.

He teared up, scoffing at himself as a dry smile formed on his face.

"You have no idea how much it hurts seeing you be in pain and not able to do anything about it. Having you flinch at my touch when all I want is to comfort and hold you."

Without thinking, he cupped her cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears that began falling down her eyes.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself Y/N. You can't spend the rest of your life living in fear and chained to someone who just wants to make you suffer. You can't allow someone to take away your joy and peace of mind. You shouldn't be afraid to be free and enjoy life. You deserve to be happy and loved."

He used his last bit of self control he had and stopped himself when he leaned his face too close to hers, his nose brushing against hers, expecting her to shiver away from his touch, but instead she seemed to wait for his next move. Knowing he'd never forgive himself for it, he pulled back, leaving her disappointed and himself in agony.

"Please take care..."

Taking off his leather jacket, he placed it on her back, fanning out the sleeves so it'd cover her shoulders. Then he turned around and began walking away from her, shoulders slumped down and heart aching to go back and just take her away for good. But he resolved himself not to. Not until she specifically asked him to.

When Y/N finally got back to her place, Taeyong wasn't there. He was probably spending the night at one of his side chick's place, no doubt getting buzzed and high out of his mind. Her soft bed no longer comforted her, so instead she slid down and sat on the floor, hugging her knees and occasionally running a finger through the fabric of San's jacket. His scent was still on it and every time she inhaled it, it had a soothing and calming effect on her mind and heart that soon helped her tense body relax until she felt sleepy. It took a lot of effort, but she climbed into her bed, not bothering to cover herself with the blanket or change into more comfortable and less confining clothes.

San's jacket was the only comforting thing at that moment......

ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.

Nudging him with his elbow, Yeosang whispered to the male next to him the presence of the girl that was slowly approaching them. Always reacting to anything related to her, San turned his head and smiled softly when he saw Y/N walking up to him.

"Hey." He greeted her.

"Hi.....I came to return this. Thanks for letting me borrow it." She held out his leather jacket, neatly folded and visible clean.

"Oh Y/N, you really didn't need to go that far." San became shy at her gesture, and worried about if she washed it cause he had forgotten to and it disgusted her.

"Don't say that. It's the least I can do for all you've done..."

She looked up at his eyes as she said that, her heart fluttering when he rested his hand on top of hers when he tried to take back his treasured article of clothing, letting it stay there for a moment, his fingers giving her hand a light squeeze. His friend behind him looked back and forth between the both of them, confused by what was going on and internally gagging at their mushy scene.

"I wanted to say thank-"

"Y/N!"

The voice calling out for her roared in her ears, sending her into a panic mode as she pulled away immediately from his physical contact. San noticed the way her body tensed up and her eyes became afraid. His own eyes narrowed at the icy blue haired man strutting up to them, a chilling smile on his manga like visuals.

"Hey baby, I've been looking all over for you. What were you doing?" He asked in a concerning tone, face bearing down on hers rather uncomfortably.

"I- I was j-just giving San back this.." She stammered as she gestured to the jacket in her hand.

Letting out a barely audible scoff, Taeyong gripped the jacket, prying it off her delicate fingers before tossing it back to San.

"Thanks bud."

San glared at him, resisting the urge to throw a punch to his face. Seeing him unresponsive, Taeyong just shrugged and suspiciously wrapped an arm around Y/N.

"Come on babe. Let's go back home."

His fingers dug into her skin, applying very painful pressure to her bruise, an occasional whimper coming out of her mouth as they walked across the football field. San's jaw tightened as he watched Taeyong lean in and whispered something in her ear, no doubt some degrading words judging by the way she cowered beneath him.

"San just let it go." Yeosang's voice said.

"I can't Yeosang. Every time I see him even breathe near her.......I feel like combusting." He grunted in frustration as his friend tried to calm him down.

"Taeyong, please stop. It really hurts." Y/N cried out, her fingers prying his hand off her aching arm.

"Shut up you little bitch. How dare you go talk to that punk? Making me look bad and having me talk to that low life." He cringed in disgust.

"I was only thanking him for lending me-"

"So what? Were you going to lend yourself to him too? Is that what you were going over to him for?"

She instantly shook her head.

"What?! No!"

"Yeah right. I bet you already whored yourself out to him...didn't you?!"

Not caring that there was still people nearby, Taeyong harshly yanked her by her hair before tossing her onto the ground, catching the attention of everyone around, including San and Yeosang.

"Fucking whore." He spat at her.

"Don't." Yeosang held his hand out when he saw San taking a step forward.

"But I can't-"

Yeosang kept an arm around him to keep him in place.

"Don't get involved. You'll only make things worse."

San looked back at the scene, his heart breaking seeing Y/N once again on the floor, trembling like a frightened kitten who had no protection. When she looked up, he saw tears already brimming down her face.

"Get up. We're going home." Taeyong sternly commanded, turning to walk away as usual.

"No."

He stopped dead in his tracks at her refusal.

"Excuse me?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

Not knowing how or where she got the strength from, Y/N got up and faced him with determination.

"I've finally had enough."

Both San and Yeosang were shocked at hearing her words, one of them more incredulous than anything and the other proud of her for finally standing up for herself. Taeyong too was put out of sorts seeing her be so bold.

"Haha, real funny baby. Now let's go home." He walked closer to her, reaching out to yank her arm, but she slapped it away.

"No! I told you! I've had it! It's over!" She declared.

Sensing he was really losing his power and control over her, Taeyong lunged at her, fist held up in the air.

"Listen here you-"

Y/N covered her face, stepping back when he came close to her. She opened her eyes and uncovered herself when she felt someone suddenly step in front of her, their hand blocking Taeyong's fist from even approaching her.

"Stay out of this Choi." Taeyong grunted.

"She told you it's over Taeyong."

San easily pushed him away single handedly, making him stumble backwards.

"Now leave and never bother her again."

Not giving up yet, Taeyong looked back at Y/N menacingly.

"And do tell me Y/N? If it's over, where are you going to live now?" He taunted her.

Realizing he was right, she almost felt defeated until San spoke up again.

"She's going to live with me." He firmly answered.

"I fucking knew it. You were being a whore with him."

Unable to hold himself back anymore, San swung hard, fist colliding with Taeyong's face, sending him falling down against the floor. Y/N covered her mouth as she gasped sharply when San picked Taeyong back up from his collar, shaking him fiercely.

"Call her that one more time! I dare you to!" He warned him as he got ready to take another swing.

"San stop!" He felt Yeosang intervene once again, holding his elbow with his hands.

"Yeosang! Just let me-"

"Stop for Y/N's sake, she's already seen and lived enough violence, I really don't think she needs to see any more." Yeosang tilted his head to the Y/N who had already began backing as far away as possible.

Realizing his friend was right, San begrudgingly let go of his most hated rival.

"Try to come near her again and I will end you."

With those final words, he went over to where Y/N was, his face softening up when he looked at her. He held out his hand to her and waited for her response. He felt happy when she finally reached out and allowed him to guide her out to the parking lot, and thankful that he decided to park somewhere where there weren't a lot of people.

"You all right?" He finally spoke up when they were finally inside his truck

"Uh...yeah...actually...I'm fine.... can you believe I actually did it?"

Although she sounded enthusiastic, he heard the crack in her voice and her nervous laughter wasn't helping her case. Instead of turning the car on, he shifted to his right to look at her. He watched as the smile left her face, her fidgeting hands suddenly shake uncontrollably and her laughter suddenly turned to her hyperventilating. Knowing what was happening, San immediately pulled her into an embrace for the very first time in his life, holding her tightly, hands running through her hair as she began breaking down, sobbing violently, finally releasing all the pent up pain and suffering she had been bottling up for years.

San himself wanted to cry, but he didn't for her sake. He just let her cry her eyes out. It took a little over 10 minutes, but finally she started to calm down.

"Thank you....for everything."

Kissing her forehead, he poked her nose and smiled at her.

"Don't mention it. Let's get you somewhere warm now."

He made sure to play soothing music for her on the ride to his house. He noticed how once again she was drifting off to sleep and simply allowed her rest, knowing she was probably exhausted not only from crying so much but also from standing up to her abusive ex boyfriend moments ago. That certainly took a lot of energy and strength from her part and he was proud of her.

It was already dark when they got home, the brooding and cloudy day shortening the daylight and making it night at such an early hour. San gently picked up Y/N and got her out of the car, carrying her sleeping figure bridal style inside his house. It was small, but at least it was cozy and would be safe for her. Peeling back the covers from his bed, he carefully laid her down on it before tucking her in. When he made sure she'd be comfortable, he turned to leave the room, deciding it'd be better for him to sleep on the couch, not wanting to overstep any boundaries or have her freak out. He barely got to the door when he heard a tiny and hushed whisper of his name.

"San?"

He immediately looked over to see what she needed.

"Could.....could you please sleep by my side?.... I'd feel more safe that way..."

She didn't want to admit it right then, but it had been so long since she'd slept in someone's arms and she really craved physical affection from him. Happy to oblige, San went over and got into bed with her.

"Are you going to be ok if I wrap my arm around you?" He asked for permission first.

"Please just hold me." She begged as she cuddled up next to him, her face burying inside his chest.

He wasted no time in throwing his arm around her, his delicate fingers drawing soothing circles on her arm.

"Don't be afraid. You're safe now and you're going to be all right. I'm here and I'll protect you."

ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.

More than a year passed. It was a long and arduous process. At first Y/N didn't want to go through it, but San kept insisting she get therapy. After promising to accompany her and staying by her, she finally gave up and started seeing a psychologist. It wasn't easy, for neither of them. It was painful for her to finally speak up about all the abuse she endured for years and it was equally torturous for San to hear the rest of the untold story. It truly sickened him that one day he nearly busted Taeyong's face when he met him outside the school, but was ultimately held back once more by one of his friends. Besides his main priority was helping Y/N, helping her to properly function again and to bring a little more joy into her life, even going out to adopt a cat for her, naming her Byeol. She became their cute little baby, even if she was a total, well, cat at times and didn't want to cuddle.

"That's ok. I know a cat willing to cuddle me." Y/N chuckled.

San looked around confused.

"Wait! You got another cat? Where is- Oh! You meant me." He blushed hard when she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body next to his as she snuggled next to him on the couch.

San did not hope for and did not expect Y/N to ever return his feelings, he was satisfied with her just being out of that horrible situation and being able to help her. Never did he dream she'd ever accept to be his and especially not ever cross his mind that he'd ever be able to actually claim her as his own.

But here she was, looking so beautiful underneath his body, wearing nothing but his leather jacket as he rolled his hips against hers. His fingers were laced with hers as his lips pulled apart from hers so he could look at her.

"Fuck...you're so damn pretty."

He leaned back in to place open mouth kisses on her jaw that traveled down to her neck. Although he nibbled occasionally, he made sure not to leave any marks on her soft and delicate skin.

"San...." She breathed out heavily, her hands breaking from his grasp to run through his black hair, paying close attention to the faded green streaks near his bangs.

"Oh god- please repeat that a little more." He groaned, loving the way she called out his name with such lust.

One of his hands traveled down her sides to cup one of her thighs, lifting her leg so he could hit deeper inside her. Feeling him at a whole new angle had Y/N gripping his muscly arms, her panting now becoming more erratic as she began clenching around him.

"San-" She called out again.

He chuckled slightly, hips snapping up to thrust just a little harder in her.

"Go ahead beautiful. Cum all over me, I want to feel you."

Hearing his low and suddenly husky voice urging her on, she let out a tiny whimper, her legs wrapping around his waist, using it as leverage to ride out her high. Her nails raked themselves into his back, her body pressed as close as it could be against his.

"Oh my god!" He gasped out as he twitched inside of her, his cum coating her walls, leaving her feeling full and complete.

He collapsed on top of her, his labored breathing occasionally resulting in a little choke as he tried to compose himself. When he finally came to, he brushed his lips against her temple.

"I love you so much."

She smiled at him as he adjusted the jacket that enveloped her, a real genuine smile.

"I love you too Sannie."

Giving her a tiny peck, he began sliding the jacket off.

"Let's get you out of this. It's probably too hot to be wearing it anymore."

She huffed and pouted.

"Baby no. I love wearing it. It feels like it's hugging me." She grabbed it and wrapped it around her more tightly.

"You know what else wants to hug you? My arms. So take off the jacket and let me snuggle you love."

ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı

[binniesthighs]

call me babydoll | reader x chan

a/n: ahhhhh wow WOW cuties LOL i was not expecting this fic idea to keep me up in my sleep and occupy all my waking thoughts BUT thank you so so  much for you words of support!! hehe well....here we goooo i hope that ya’ll are ready teehee--also tags will be added as they come! You can read part one here

Two 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x bang chan 

Genre: action, mystery and suspense, fluff, smut, angst 

Tags: (of this part) bodyguard au, secret agent au, royal au, moderndayprince!chan, secretagent!reader, secretagent!jeongin, secretagent!jisung, skz side characters, adventure and mystery, action and peril, plot driven, running out of time, slow-ish burn, growing feelings, sexual tension, explicit language, jeongin in this fic is my bb and i will protect him, sexy and smart jeongin tho still hehe 

CWs: mentions of death, people dying/killing, mentions of blood and wounds, mentions of getting drunk, hungover, and vomiting, a bombing. 

Word count: 5.2k 

Parts

ONE | TWO | THREE

The road was long and winding, pitch black, desolate, quiet and foreign. In the backseat of the car, Chan had slumped his head over on Jeongin’s shoulder and bobbed with the motions of the road. His nose would twitch in his sleep, and he would make little grunts of nonsense words. He had worked himself up after the banquet, and actually hadn’t stopped his “love confessions” until you told him to shut up or you would shut him up. 

Your partner’s glasses were illuminated from the screen of his laptop which he tapped quietly away at. You too felt drowsy, but sleep would be for later once you had properly arrived at the safe house, or safe hotel, or safe hole in the ground...whatever it was. 

“You hear anything from Carroll?” You slung your arm over the seat and lowered your voice. 

“Nothing yet.” His eyes flicked around the screen. “It’s almost like it’s too quiet. I’ve already told her that we have the prince and that he’s safe, but..nothing.” 

“You don’t think...they got targeted too?” 

Chan snored lightly on his bodyguard’s shoulder, and he didn’t dare to move an inch. 

“I sure as hell hope not. But...that would explain why things have been so quiet. If this was a larger scale attack...I don’t know what this could mean then.” 

From the darkness of the outside world in the car windows, you passed a forest of pines and oher types of stoic trees making up the mountainside. 

“Well, I think that we should be optimistic for the time being.” 

Jeongin nodded. He looked to be a mess: blood had splattered at his white shirt collar and in specks on his neck. His cracked lenses however, didn’t keep him from his work. He had pulled his tie loosely around his neck, and had also provided his jacket as a pseudo-blanket of sorts for the prince. The prince, had offered his own jacket to you seeing as you only had your dress, but you had been managing just fine. You accepted it, but only because it could soothe his chivalrous ego. He had a hard night already, so you saw it best. 

“Two, where are you taking us?” You called to the mysterious driver. 

Ever since meeting him at the hotel, he had been nearly silent the whole ride. 

The man cleared his throat, “As far away from here as I can. I don’t know of any safe houses so...I’m just trying to remove us.” 

“I can find one for us if Carroll doesn’t get back to me....which she should...” 

Jeongin was not one for speaking of his mother as anything other than his boss. Since he had been assigned to be your partner a few months ago, he had never referred to her as his mother, nor did he ever seem to harbor any emotion for the stern woman. Both of them had been a bit allusive to you, but that was simply how it was in this line of work. You didn’t know things about the people around you, and you didn’t need to ask. You had wondered if he had worried about her, or thought about her when you were on missions. The young man had trained rigorously, and had passed each exam from the academy with flying colors. After considering it for a while, you figured what immense pressure he must've been under: son of the woman in charge, a master at infiltration, espionage, manipulation, cybersecurity, and a million more things; he had to prove himself and more. 

You couldn’t have asked for a better partner, but you almost did wish that you had known more. 

Two fiddled with the radio, settling on a station that played some kind of country-western type music. 

“What’s your specialty Two? How’d you end up a part of this shitshow?” 

The driver laughed, then hummed along with the music for a moment. “This has been my gig for few years, but I’ve never been a part of this unit before. Carroll always saw it best for my services to be used in other places.” 

“You have a specialty?” Jeongin asked while still typing furiously. 

Two scratched the back of his head. “I do a little bit of everything. But...let’s just say that I’m good at making friends. That’s why Carroll likes me.” 

“--You know her personally?” Your partner quipped, but the edge to his voice didn’t sound like judgement, but rather caution. 

“We’ve had a few meetings.” 

“Hm.” 

You kicked off your heals to massage your aching toes. If only they had attacked at a time when you had the proper footwear. 

“You said we could also call you J?” You sprawled over the back seat in an attempt to make yourself more comfortable. Still, the plastic seatbelt buckles poked into your back. 

“Yes. You can call me J.” 

And that was that. No “What’s J stand for”, or “where are you from”, “where’s your home base,” “how did you rank at the academy?” You added questions to the list of things that weren’t allowed as well. 

Jeongin tore off his glasses with an exasperated sigh to rub at his tired eyes. Chan made a happy little noise, presumably because he had found a cozier spot on Jeongin’s shoulder. He had now gotten the chance to sleep off his drunken stupor that may or may not had contributed to his sudden confession, and the reason behind the two pitstops you had taken for him to retch on the side of the road. 

If he was a prince, he might’ve also been one mess of a prince. In all of his grace and confidence, the pleasures that he partook in would often get the best of him at times too. 

You gave up on trying to get some sleep, but rather sat up to watch that paradoxically handsome and misshapen prince. Just like this: sleeping, vulnerable, with some kind of lopsided smirk on his face, he was much less than the regal figure that you had painted him to be in your mind. For maintaining appearances the whole day long, you hadn’t ever really gotten the chance to see him like this before. His façade faded, and you surmised that maybe he really was different from the way that he let on. 

“I’m so fucking tired.” Jeongin yawned. 

“Get some sleep then. I’ll stay up to watch things.” 

“That’s just it. I can’t sleep even if I tried.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Can you pass me some hand sanitizer or something? There’s...blood on my hands.” 

Your partner’s voice cracked slightly. It was then when you realized that this had been the first time that he had fired at real people. 

“I’ve got a water bottle? Is that enough?” 

“Yeah. It’s fine.” 

He splashed the liquids around while wiping his hands away, then flicked the remnants of water away. 

“Something about this doesn’t sit right with me.” 

“How do you mean?” 

Chan’s coat draped over your shoulders, and you pulled it in closer around your arms. The night had been cool, and the AC blasting in the car didn’t make it much better. 

Jeongin licked his lips. “Nothing was supposed to happen tonight. We made sure of it. No one was suspicious, we ran background checks, we checked the whole area...” 

“Hey,” You attempted to turn your tone softer, “We couldn’t have seen it coming. They just rolled up out of nowhere, there was no way that we could’ve stopped it--” 

“--Innocent people died tonight. If they were out for the prince, or maybe they weren’t, why so much collateral damage?” 

“Obviously they don’t care.” 

“Bastards.” Jeongin took the last bits of water to slug. “We’re gonna fucking find out why they did all of this.” 

Two shifted in his seat, “Any word? Hate to mention it, but I’m getting kinda tired. It’s past three already.”  

“Fox?” 

He clicked around, then shook his head. “Still nothing.” 

Chan snorted a bit in his sleep: an action which woke him up. 

“Wha-what? Where are we? Are the there yet? What time is it? Fuck...my head feels like it’s splitting...” 

“We’re finding somewhere, your Highness. We’ll be there soon.” Your partner motioned for you to hand him another water to give to the disorientated prince. 

Chan nodded while he rubbed his temples. “Shit. Please tell me that I just made this all up. That it’s some kind of fucked up nightmare...” 

You threw Chan’s coat back to him. “Unfortunately, no. We’re trying to figure out everything that we can.” 

“Who the hell were those guys?” Water dripped down his neck in a way that you pretended not to notice. “They were wearing crests. I couldn’t tell, but weren’t they red?” 

“Very observant, your Highness. F?” 

The younger man bit his lip, “I’ve already tried finding where the crest is from, but I can’t find anything that resembles it within our database. I was able to see one up close. It looked like a heart or something like that, and a diamond. I’m guessing that it could’ve been maybe a spade? Like the kind that you see on playing cards? Still, since we’ve never seen it before, we can only assume that they must be a new group.” 

Chan nodded, but anyone could tell that the information had flown right over his head. He licked at his wet lips, then sighed. 

“Bee, You okay? Fox? I suppose that I should ask you both.” 

“I’m...fine.” His sudden concern came as a surprise, and your partner looked just as shocked. 

“I-I’m fine too. No holes in me or anything.” Jeongin suppressed a laugh. “But you’re not, your Highness. How much did you have to drink?” 

“Oh...enough. I guess that I lost track at some point. Those kind of things are boring anyway.” 

“Fox? You’ve got that locale?” Two clicked the turn signal. 

“Oh! Yeah, I’ve got one. Sorry, It’s about an hour from here.” 

“Locale?” Chan cocked his head. 

“A safe house. Or something like that. We need to lie low while we wait for instructions.” 

“No one has said anything...? Not even...my father?” 

Jeongin shook his head gravely. “No.” 

The young prince fell silent, and you watched as worry fell over his clouded eyes that were lined with bags. Normally his expression was anything but strained, but in this moment, you saw doubt sweep over him like the darkness on the road ahead. You leaned the farthest you could from your seat to grab at his hand behind you. 

“You’re safe with us. Nothing is going to happen to you.” 

His hand was warm, maybe a little clammy, but it was soft, like that of a prince, naturally. Still, it was strong and veined. Chan’s thumb rubbed soft little circles into your own skin, muttering, “Thank you.” For once, his eyes which would normally devour you like some kind of rare dish held you earnestly. I trust you, they said. 

“Two. Let’s switch.” Jeongin slammed his laptop closed. “I’ve got it from here.” 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

The safe house was quiet. As most of them where. It was even a bit stereotypical: a little cottage in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by woods on nearly all sides. It had a little overgrown garden, and a shed that looked like it held either all kinds of gardening equipment, or the real thing that sheds were meant for in your business: ammo. It had a white painted porch with cracking paint, as well as porch swing with rusting chains. In the early morning the windows were are black, but still faintly reflected the massive array of sparking stars above your heads. The only thing less antique about the home was the touch keypad on the front door. It beeped with a little tune, then flashed the insignia of the agency: a ticking clock. 

“Two, can you find a generator or something? Get the electricity up and going?” 

“Can do,” He said, then disappeared. 

Two was mostly a quiet man, a feature that gave you both reasons to trust him and to be suspicious. Besides him being a bit smaller in stature with thin legs and characteristically round cheeks, there was something different about him that you couldn’t place; something unexpected. You wished once again that questions weren’t on the list of things that weren’t allowed. 

“There should be clothes around here somewhere.” Jeongin padded his way through the dark rooms. “You shower first your Highness.” 

Chan tripped over his feet as he spread out his arms to find his way. You giggled lightly at the action. A man really was stripped down of any and all sense of composure when his life had been threatened and he had to have his bodyguards pat his back while he had gotten sick after one too many royal drinks. 

The lights flashed on, flickering at first with the sound of the lightbulbs waking up after a long sleep. The interior design of the place was exactly as you had expected: it was a family home with a fireplace and several chairs and couches covered in dust. Bookshelves were full with the strangest assortment of reading material and board games there held a thin layer of grey dust too. The kitchen was small and cozy: it had all the necessities. A stained glass chandelier hung over the wooden table for eight, and was decorated with glass hummingbirds and pink flowers. In odd corners of the house, children’s toys had been sitting untouched. A family must’ve been living there, and you wondered what must’ve become of them. 

Two returned with spiderwebs caught on his dress coat. “Water should be hot in about thirty minutes or so I think.” 

Your partner crossed the room, raking a hand through his snowy white hair. “I’m gonna try and make the calls again. See if I get anything. If not, we’ll have to...begin Operation Cheshire.” 

It was the phrase that you had hoped neither you nor your partner would have to say. 

Chan slumped down in one of the upholstered chairs, throwing dust into the air as he did. Compared to the rest of the room, him and his designer clothes seemed comically out of place. “Wha-what’s that?” 

Two pinched between his eyes, and your chest shook with an unsure inhale. 

“It means that we assume the worst. HQ got taken over and we’re all at risk. Information about us could be accessible to anyone. Essentially, we go into sleeper mode until we can reconvene with other agents...if there are any more. We dissapear. Next, we work on getting you back home, no matter what it takes.” 

“HQ?” What are you talking about?” Chan toyed with his diamond set cufflinks. “HQ? Like whoever manages the bodyguards??” 

“Your Highness...” You and your partner exchanged knowing glances. “We’re more than bodyguards.” 

“What?!” 

“We’re operatives. Agents. We work for an intelligence agency that specializes in a bunch of different things...protecting royalty if needed.” 

“What the fuck?! Why didn’t anyone tell me? Chan slapped his leg. “Fuck! No one tells me anything!!! I get that I’m a fucking prince but I’m not fucking useless!” 

The memory of the confidential file reemerged in your memory: the promise that you had made to His Majesty The King after he had requested a “special hire” to watch over his son. The file itself had contained a several thousand words or so that you hadn’t bothered to read, but rather skimmed till you got to the signature part. Carroll had simply nodded before you put your pen to the paper. 

“It was for your saf--” 

“--My father did this, didn’t he? Didn’t he? Some kind of sick way to keep tabs on me? See what I’m doing?? God! The man never trusts me. If the thinks that I’m that much of a disappointment...this is just--” 

“Your Highness, it’s been a long day, you’ve been through a lot, just take a shower and get some rest. Alright? We’ll talk more about this in the morning.” Two stepped forward with his hands folded in front of him. His interjection was unlike his previously quiet presence. 

The prince sighed, tapping his tragically expensive shoe on the hardwood. 

“Fine. We’ll talk about it in the morning.” 

Chan’s eyes grew dark with an authoritative air that you had seen before. His façade had slipped over him like a cloak. He rose, buttoning his jacket, then tweaking his sliver brooches decorating his neck. 

“Fox. Bee. Two. Thank you. Good evening.” 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

Chan knew that it was you at the door when you would knock two times, then pause, and knock twice more. In your hands, you held a cup of warm milk. For a prince, even he couldn’t reject the beverage to help him fall asleep at night. You had seen him order it at hotels on more than one occasion. Jeongin had found a nearby store to get food for the morning. The two of you had suddenly found yourselves as now both his bodyguards and his servants. While you waited, you hoped to God that Carroll would compensate you for the extra work. 

The door creaked open, revealing your prince modestly dressed in plaid flannel, hair dripping slightly in wet strands. You had never seen him as simple as this before: no princely persona or cold exterior to upkeep. He looked...normal. 

“What is it Bee?” 

“I thought you might like some...well, this.” You provided him with the cup. “I know that it’s nearly morning, but you should still try to sleep in. We’ll take care of things. 

He took the ceramic mug from your hands, fingers barely brushing against yours for mere moments. 

“Thank you.” He hushed with a thankful smile. “Would you like to come in? We could...just kind of...sit for a minute.” 

Behind him, sun peaked at the horizon, a splitting of red piercing the navy deep of the night. The colors muddled, blurred, a bit like the color of blood fading into the deep fabric of one’s formal wear. It was desolate, but still beautiful. 

“To be honest,” His eyes fell, “I don’t want to be alone right now.” 

You had saved the biggest room for him. It smelled of mothballs and other old things like sheets that had rested in a dark room for much too long. Still, there was a kind of familiarity to it all and the way that the matted rugs and brass vintage lamps lit the room with a soft yellow light. The full sized bed creaked once you had sat down. In his golden halo, Chan’s brown strands appeared to be softer, and not as prim and staged. 

“I’m sorry for snapping earlier. I realized that there are things that are out of my control. You know more than I do, and I accept that. I trust you...a-and Fox.” 

You rubbed your hands into the jeans you had found in the cupboard. They had dirt and grass stains from work in the garden you presumed. 

“It’s okay. I understand that you would be scared. It’s okay to be. I...get scared sometimes too. I know that it might look like it, but I fear...for my life too. So does Jeong--Fox.” 

Chan’s voice cracked. “Is someone out to kill me?” 

You sighed, sensing his hesitation. “I don’t know. But we will know soon.” 

The prince stared down at the white bubbles in his milk, then swirled around the liquid to watch the way that that it moved. 

“I don’t think I’d like to die. Would be pretty unfortunate, don’t you think? I feel like I’ve got so many other things to do. A kingdom to manage, people to govern, much more bottles of Scotch to drink, parties to attend...” 

His eyes met yours, and you could see the very fragility of the life that he spoke of right in them. He was right in that dumb speech of his. He really was just a person. 

“...I like to think that I’ll get married someday to someone that I love. I actually would really like to do that.” He chuckled. “Lame, right? Someone like me who always bounces around. Wouldn’t take me for one?” 

“Mm. No. I think that from what I’ve observed of you, and I’m trained to observe, I think that bouncing around...means you’re looking for the right thing. And, I guess that it’s fun too.” 

Chan chuckled, “You’re good at observing.” 

You paused, remembering Lee Minho from earlier. 

“Were you looking when you were talking to that man at the banquet? He was very handsome.” 

The prince placed the cup down. “He was. I don’t know. He just seemed kind of interesting. The kind of mystery that only a stranger has. I would’ve liked to have talked to him more now that I think about it. Maybe it would’ve been worth my time.” Chan twisted his back to crack it. “I don’t know if you saw but he had some really nice fucking thighs.” 

“Ahhh. Nice thighs. Didn’t know that you cared for that.” 

The two of you laughed together a bit like old friends. It felt nice. 

“...Bee. I should also probably apologize for how I acted back before we got in the car. I was...drunk, scared. I said some things--” 

“--That you were in love with me?” 

“Yeah...that. I realized that...I’ve been...unfair to you. You don’t deserve the ridicule. You’ve only ever been helpful to me and--” 

“--Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.” You shrugged. You had met hundreds of guys like him before, at least you thought. 

Chan sighed as if he was gathering himself. “Bee. I did mean what I said.” 

“What? Ch-your Highness, you don’t mean that.” 

He laughed, “It’s alright. You can call me Chan. And...yes. I did. You’ve got a kind of mystery to you too. Frankly, I can’t stop thinking about it.” 

“This...this is inappropriate.” You shifted, the rising off the bed. Your cheeks warmed, but you couldn’t know why. Maybe he was just too damn charming. But, he was like that with everyone. 

He rose too, hastily following you on your way to the door. “Bee, wait.” 

“Chan, you can’t do this. It makes things...complicated.” 

He advanced, slowly, closing the space between you. “It’s only complicated if you feel the same.” 

“I-I don’t.” 

The prince’s hand carefully rose to cup your face, a gesture so gentle that you shied from the feeling. Even this close still he smelled of white roses. 

“Have you ever heard of conflict of interest?” Your breath hitched. 

Chan grinned, “There you go making this complicated again.” 

A wandering hand of yours acting on its own reached to tug hold of his shirt. 

The prince leaned in closer, nearly close enough to breech the gap between his plush lips and yours. 

“What if I don’t mind making things...” He whispered the word, grazing his mouth over yours, “...complicated?” 

“Ch--” 

He pressed his weight fully into you, a smashing of lips met with incessant heat and your back shoved into the door. His tongue easily twisted around yours, and his soft gasps filled up your mouth. It had taken you a couple seconds to realize what had happened, and to decide what to do with yourself. His mouth was blazing, it was as if he was weaving a spell, or perhaps you had made it up for yourself. He kissed you with vitality; like he had never tasted anything like you before and was starving for you. You realized, perhaps you had wondered what it would’ve felt like. One hand squeezed tighter to his shirt, and you kissed back, meeting his heat. 

Jeongin’s voice called down the hall, “Bee? Bee, are you there?” The sound of your bedroom door shut. 

You pushed Chan off you with flat hands on his chest and an amazed smile on his face. 

“This...this doesn’t mean anything.” You gasped, reaching for the knob after a moments pause. 

Chan snickered, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Goodnight your Highness.” 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

For a man so young Jeongin liked his coffee black, and drank it like an old man too with his nose buried in a newspaper while it fogged up his glasses--or what was left of them. 

“I finally got correspondence from Carroll this morning. She said that HQ experienced some kind of blackout and all the systems went offline. It wasn’t safe for her to contact us on a regular line. They got everything back up and running and everything seems fine, or so they think.” 

Your partner had already made himself comfortable in a pair of sweatpants and a cotton tee with slippers. You never would’ve guessed that he was a trained assassin on the side. 

Two returned huffing in the door from his morning run. He was one of those people. 

“Any word?” He rubbed his face off with a dishtowel. 

“Disgusting.” You sneered at the crude action. 

“Well, we’ve got thousands of miles between us and the kingdom and what seems like a hell of a lot of guys on our tail, but, after I sent Carroll the info about the red crest, she wants us to do some digging. 

“With the prince in tow?” You lowered your voice lest the sleeping royal heard you. “I don’t think so.” 

“It sounds like she’s convinced that the person behind all of this could be someone who attended the charity ball. And, I don’t really disagree. They must be good at keeping secrets if they evaded us.” 

“Hm. You’re right. A high profile event like that, even though its for a good cause it’s always a competition with those snobs. I just don’t know who could order something so cruel...all those people in the same place...” 

“Since it’s a new group, they must still be underground. So, to see who lives underground, you’ve got to go there yourself to find out. Or, in our case, find someone who knows the rabbit hole.” 

Two grabbed a chair, ruffling his deep brown soaked hair. “What does that mean?” 

Jeongin flipped his laptop around. “This is the man that we need to go see. Codename White Rabbit. Or as he calls himself--” 

“--Bun.” You cut in. “Yeah, I know him.” 

Both of the men chimed, “You do?” 

“Yeah, he’s undercover ops for the agency. He’s sort of a jack of all trades. He owns some kind of front out in Egypt. It’s called The Tea Party. Bar up front, but in the back he provides all kinds of information--for both sides. His cut is that for any information he gives to the agency he gets cash compensation. If anyone would know about anything underground, it would be him. As I’m sure Carroll told you, he’s a stickler for meeting in person. He’s one of us. I think.” 

“You think?” 

“He also does...other deviant things. I heard that these days he’s had a couple dealings in some...substances. Black market stuff. Carroll also provides safety for his business in return for his information.” 

“That...sounds illegal. Immoral even.” Jeongin’s eyes widened upon hearing the news about his mother. 

“You’ve got to pay to play you know.” 

“So Egypt then?” Two wiped off the back of his neck with the dishtowel, stretching out one of his toned arms. “I’ve always wanted to go there.” 

“Oh--one more thing.” Jeongin took a rather long sip from his cup. “The King’s counsel reached out to me too this morning. They asked me if the Prince was safe and where we were. I have them loose details of both. They seemed somewhat relieved.” 

Chan sauntered down the steps with a massive yawn, stretching up his arms and shirt to reveal an inkling of his abs. You also pretended not to notice it. 

“Gooood morning everyone. Fox. Two.” He dished out a wink. “Bee.” 

“Morning your Highness.” Jeongin nodded, and crossed his legs. “Feeling well?” 

“Ahhh much better.” He poured himself a cup of coffee in the kitchen, staring out the little window over the sink, then took an indulgent sip. “It’s peaceful here. I kind of like that.” 

“Your Highness, we’ve received word--” 

Chan rose his hand to shush your partner, then languidly took another sip. “I’m still enjoying my drink F.” 

A light buzzing resonated somewhere in the house, a bit like the sound of a dryer, and the home started vibrating. Your water glass on the table rippled. 

“Two, did you notice if there was anything strange about the house?” 

The buzzing grew nearer. 

Two looked puzzled, “No, why?” 

The vibrating grew more violent, and your glass shuddered off the wooden table, shattering on the ground upon impact. 

Chan squinted out the window, “Is that a--” 

“CHAN GET DOWN!” You shrieked. 

Within milliseconds the whistling of a bomb screeched through the air, then crashed into the rickety ceiling, splintering wood everywhere and demolishing the furniture. 

You had seconds to act while the matte black bomb hissed with a steam releasing from some seam and ticked. You sprinted to grab Chan’s arm as hard as you possibly good, all in a blur, pummeling your bodies against one of the shattered windows, and hurling yourself out to the morning dew. You had no time to see if Jeongin or Two had made their exit, but looked out, towing the prince so hard you must’ve done some damage to his shoulder. You stumbled to your feet, tripping, and grunting until the bomb diffused, and exploded the cottage altogether. You covered Chan’s head and most of his body with your own as a shield and the shards of wood, metal, and brick came flying. 

“Ar-are you okay?” You patted the prince down in his shock, who stared blankly with empty eyes. 

The prince’s flannel had been torn to shreds with glass, and blood oozed onto the fabric on his arms. 

“Yeah...yeah...I’m...fine.” 

“BEE! Y/N!” Jeongin screamed over the flames to find you. 

“OVER HERE!” You bellowed back, and your partner came running with Two behind him with terrible cuts on his face. 

“They knew. They FUCKING knew.” He panted after reaching you. 

“We have to get out of here.” Two gasped, and blood ran down his face, nearly into his eye. “If they know where we are now, they’ll come to check to see if the damage is done. We have to move.”  

The sky filled with an angry smoke, and the once peaceful forest filled with the colors of orange and red. 

“The car?” 

“Broken windows from the blast but I should be able to get it going. There’s spare parts in the shed. And ammo. A fuck ton of it.” 

“We’ll need it.” 

You pulled the prince to his feet as he blinked wildly at you and your team. 

“Fuck.” Was all the could manage. 

In your complete surprise, Chan’s bloodied and cracked hands pulled your face into his, kissing you with lips that tasted of the salt of blood. 

“I fucking love you Bee. I’ve decided.” 

Jeongin’s jaw dropped in the corner of your eye, so you promptly slapped the prince upside the face. 

“You’re in shock. We need to get out of here.” 

A wrinkled smile danced on the royal’s face, and you might’ve thought that it was a bit charming. 

“Admit it. You love me too Bee.” 

~🌹~ 

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @julesinthesoop

[uyv]

Newfound Avarice

(Businessman!Sakusa Kiyoomi x Fem!Reader)

Genre: SMUT/NSFW! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THIS!

Words: 3.2K

TW: PWP, choking, fellatio, spanking, hair-pulling, degradation

Author’s Note: Was kinda sorta listening to “Wicked Games” by The Weeknd and it gave me some sorta Sakusa vibe. I also just like the idea of fucking on office desks so yeah 🥰 Enjoy!

Taglist: @tspice283 @sapid-rose @tvbiio @lunar-lilly @kukiisan

“Sakusa-san!” you gave the door a more than generous amount of knocks, an arm embracing two pristine bottles paired with two tulip glasses cautiously.

An exasperated groan came from behind the door, causing you to chuckle. You knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid an appearance made by you today.

"Come in."

You didn’t waste any time flinging the door open, a pearly grin stretched from ear to ear on your face. Sakusa was plopped down in the leather office chair, the sumptuous office surrounding him, the exhibition of the gleaming city in the background illuminating his presence even more. Dark eyes stared back at you with an obviously displeased bearing, a frown hidden under his mask.

During your time with Sakusa as your boss, he kept stepping all over you–though you didn’t seem to mind. He wasn’t all that fun of a guy, moreso an introvert who carried almost too much hand sanitizer around. He obviously took a strong repugnance to crowds, declining Komori’s offers for a small get-together for dinner and disappearing from the scene when the amount of people in an area piled up.

“Why are you here, (L/N)-san?” Sakusa queried, his tone bleak as always.

“Komori-san said that you wouldn’t be attending the New Year’s Eve celebration tonight, so I thought I’d pop in and we’d have a small celebration of our own.” you responded.

“It’s not needed. I have work to do.” Sakusa said brusquely, his tone almost forceful.

“You don’t even want a drink..?” your timbre was almost pitiful, a kittenish pout plastered onto your face, to which the man in front of you mumbled annoyedly.

“Just come in and take a seat.” Sakusa muttered, eyes travelling back to focus on the pile of papers in front of him.

You trotted forward towards his desk, setting the voluptuous bottles of dark tawny along with a corkscrew down on the clear side of his desk.

“Cognac and armagnac, both X.O.” you stated, placing one of the glasses in front of him as you rolled a smaller office chair over in front of his desk.

“I’ll take the cognac. Armagnac is too sweet for me.” Sakusa whirred in a low voice, slipping his mask down with a gloved hand. You reached for the corkscrew and the tall, rotund bottle of cognac, popping the cap off and carefully pouring the amber elixir into his glass. He continued to focus on the forms in front of him, pen moving diligently to swipe his signature onto the last line of the paper.

“Why didn’t you go to the New Year’s Eve party?” you questioned, sitting down as you emptied some of the armagnac bottle into your glass.

“I dislike parties. They don’t interest me at all.” Sakusa responded, gaze pasted on the fresh form in front of him.

“There would’ve been a lot of food, though.” you retorted, leaning back into the chair and lifting your glass to take a sip of the lush tincture.

“Whatever. I don’t indulge in such kiddish interests.” he picked up the glass, taking in a sip of the drink, continuing to focus on his papers. A long silence passed before you opened your mouth again.

“You’re no fun, Sakusa-san.” you murmured, cocking your head back in boredom.

He didn’t respond to your comment, pen swirling over the sheets of paper. So boring. You’d kill for him to say something.

“What’s your life like back at home? I mean, do you have a wife? Kids?”

He sighed before staring you dead in the eyes. “Listen here, and listen well.”

“I don’t know what your business with me is, (L/N) (F/N), but it needs to stop.” he murmured, raising the mahogany tincture to his lips once again, eyes travelling back to the form he was filling out.

You groaned irritatedly before you retaliated. “Sure thing, boss.”

-

Your visage had become blurred, flames burning in the pits of your cheeks. You giggled hazily. One of the bottles had been drained of the liquor, only a scintilla left rolling around at the base.

“Sakusa-sannnn~ Let’s fuck, please…” You reached over the table to cup his face with a greedy palm, to which he slammed your hand down onto the desk.

“You may leave now, (L/N)-san.”

“But I don’t wanna leave, sweetie.”

You impulsively crawled your way over the desk, knocking both glasses full of liquid over, the tints invading the white of his papers. You pressed yourself onto him, throwing your thighs on either side of his lap, tossing your arms around his neck.

“(L/N).” His timbre came louder now, but you didn’t pay mind to it.

“Please, Sakusa-san? If you like it, I don’t mind more than one night with you…”

“(L/N) (F/N), get off me this instant.” he said in a lower voice, almost like the warning growl of a predator circling a potential prey. You continued wiggling your clothed ass onto the crotch of his dress pants, moaning to yourself.

“Sakusa-san… Sakusa-san, please~”

Little did you know you were treading dangerous waters.

Your moans were interrupted by a sharp pressure around your neck as you felt something caressing your lips savagely. You were unresponsive to the sudden movements until the pressure around your neck became tighter, triggering a choked gasp from your mouth.

You then came to the realization that your own boss was kissing you—rather aggressively, for that matter. He shoved his tongue into your mouth to attack yours, the filthy salaciousness of his tongue messily scraping against yours causing a dissipated moan to erupt from your throat. He took your wet muscle into his mouth, sucking with a brilliant fervor that dramatically changed the tempo of your breath. A gloved finger raced up the cloth covering your stomach to fiddle with a breast, more whimpers flowing from your mouth.

Sakusa leaned over so that your head was pressed to the muddled pile of forms, then pulling back to marvel at the splendor of you, penalized for your downright lecherous deeds, sweat pearling on the scape of your face. Balmy exhales were released from your mouth.

You peered up at Sakusa with curiosity to see his cheeks dominated by a pale tint of sanguine under his skin. His breaths were just as exasperated as yours.

“(L/N), you should really know the consequences for such depraved actions.” Sakusa mused, forehead pressed to yours in a domineering manner, dark orbs peering right back into yours. You gulped as a clothed hand reached down towards your dress shirt, skillfully dismantling the buttons that served as a gate to your bosom. You didn’t dare move, ecstatic about his next move.

“You just had to blabber on and on, didn’t you? Now look where you’ve got me.” he murmured, eyes travelling down to look in between his legs at the protuberant bulge that had risen underneath his black dress pants, causing a whimper to reverberate from your throat. His grip around your neck consolidated again, ripping a few wheezes and coughs from your throat.

“Make another annoying sound again. I dare you.” he snarled, giving a breast a sharp squeeze. He gazed back down at your form, mapping all the slopes and ridges of your body with his eyes.

“Get on your knees.” he used his legs to propel the office chair away from the desk, motioning for you to kneel in front of him. You obeyed, getting off the desk and dropping to your knees as he spread his legs.

Your hands reached to unclasp his belt, but he slapped your hands away.

“No touching.”

He fiddled with his belt for a second before successfully unclasping it, quickly unbuttoning his pants and tugging them down along with his boxers, his cock uprooted from the confines of the tight clothing. His cock slapped against his shirt, the head an agitated maroon hue contrasting the pretty pink flush; white percolating at the peak, trickling down the shaft. You gaped at the size, wondering about how it would fit in your mouth.

“You’re wasting my time just staring like that.” Sakusa smacked the tip of his member against your face, smearing a bit of the silvery liquid onto your cheek. A rough hand grasped and tugged at your hair, causing you to gasp. He took that opportunity to shove his whole length into your mouth. Your nose was pressed to his crotch. As your throat constricted painfully around his length, you peered up at him. What were aloof eigengrau orbs had shifted into voids of pitch black desire.

“Suck.”

You withdrew from his crotch, hollowing your cheeks and dropping your jaws even further, triggering a concupiscent trill from his mouth. Your tongue glissaded in tantalizing motions along his shaft, muffled groans trailing on his part. The warm slickness of your mouth embellished the congenial sensations, his thighs starting to shift and tremble as he bit his lip to hold in those blissful keens that flooded his mouth. His dick pushed its way into your throat, tightening around it as small chokes and groans interrupted the process, muddling his mind with even more off-color thoughts.

Sakusa fisted your hair as he felt himself get even closer to his searing climax. He tilted his head back into the office chair he was sitting on. You grinned mischievously at the burning debauchery of your boss, like an unrelenting flame slowly and painfully turning everything in its path to black. He finally squeezed his eyes shut, singing out a sinful lilting.

“S-Stop it–stop–(L/N)–!” Sakusa had bleated through gritted teeth, but you were nowhere close to abiding by his rules. You unwrapped your mouth from around his member as frosted streaks of cum glazed your face. You stuck out your tongue, the creamy white substance coating it.

When Sakusa’s exasperated gaze regained, the sight you were presenting to him was unforgettable. The fire that had just died had reignited in the pit of his stomach, burning even brighter into a shade that consumed all nullified thoughts around it. This was like nothing he’s ever had before. Something about the way his essence was drizzled onto your face was so alluring but he couldn't pinpoint what. He’d had plenty of women at his beckon call to use for his own pleasure, but you–you were something else. His focus was on you, and only you at this point. Absolutely nothing else.

“Damn slut.” Sakusa growled, hand bunching strands of your hair in a rough grasp. “Stand up.”

You obeyed, standing up. Within a blurred moment, you found yourself pinned against his desk face first, your cheek pressed onto the sheets of paper. He impulsively reached under your skirt to tug the thin material of your panties down to your knees so it could no longer sheath your arousal. His cock pressed against your glutinous folds, slick dribbling onto his cock as a salacious message that begged him to shove his entirety into your sopping core. Sin was singing so sweetly to him, like the cry of birds on a sunlit morning.

“Stay down.” He gingerly slid an index finger into your tautness, ripping an obnoxious moan from your throat. A loud clap rang throughout the room as a painful burst crashed onto your clothed ass, causing you to bite your lip and whimper in realization that you’d just moaned so loudly. Sakusa then grabbed your hair, shoving his head close to the shell of your ear.

“Another sound? You really are testing my patience today, aren’t you..?” his breath was humid against your ear. You bit your lip and squeezed your eyes shut, awaiting his next action.

Before your hole had time to unclamp around that single digit, he added another finger, making scissor-like motions to widen you out for the pounding he would deliver afterward.

Arid breaths were drawn from your mouth as he continued his movements, fingers exploring your silken walls. You let out a choked whine when you felt his fingers graze over that one spot, which turned your stomach into an active caldera, preparing to erupt in gushes of shame.

“S-Sakusa–please, I can't–!” you whimpered, vestiges of exasperation in your meek voice.

“Shut up.” he mumbled, using his free hand to slap the sensitive web of nerves between your folds, causing a strained yelp to fall from your already abused lips.

Every heady whine drawn from the pit of your chest made Sakusa’s cock spasm. He just wanted to indulge in all your decadent inclinations. He wanted to feel them with you and make you feel them in the worst and best ways imaginable.

“Fuck it.” Sakusa cursed, removing his fingers from your arousal-laden hole and replacing it with the plush head of his member inside. He pushed into you, every inch making you quaver with utmost rapture. His clothed chest was pressed against your back, crushing you to him as he continued to force himself into your quivering little cunny.

“I-It’s not gonna fit!” you panted as his cock still grazed your sensitivity, teeth sinking into your bottom lip again to hold in the outrageous whines building in your throat. You were left breathless as the man behind you bottomed out, the tip of his dick threatening to attack your cervix and pierce through it.

"Would you look at that? I made it fit."

You mewled as he drew his hips back, leaving only the luscious head of his cock inside you, and then collided into your figure fiercely, your hands scrambling on the desk for stability. His cock nudged against your g-spot, causing you to bleat and writhe as he continued plunging into you.

You wiggled your hips into his thrusts, which earned you a satisfied groan that fell from Sakusa’s lips. He bent over to loom over your figure, hot breath warming the atmosphere of your neck and sending shivers slithering down your spine.

You cried out as he started pumping into you at a fiercer speed, filthy squelching noises echoing through the room as he rubbed up against your leathery walls. The feeling of you squeezing around his cock so desperately drew loud curses and grunts from his mouth. Sakusa had found himself discovering unexplored desires, those that were smutty and licentious and encased his mind in an ever-tightening chrysalis of decadence.

“Fuck!” he roared, reaching to cup your ass with both hands, spreading your ass apart so his cock could reach deeper, reaching the depths of your ocean, sucking him in even deeper like a raging maelstrom. You whined wantonly as he used you to his delectation. He wanted to feel you, hear you, taste you in all your glutinous, honey-trap sweetness; and consume you.

“I’m so close–p-please–!” You pleaded, your voice hoarse from whining out so licentiously. Sakusa felt himself getting closer too, but he couldn’t let you achieve your awaited release–not until he got what he wanted first. He wanted to savor the feeling of your ridges and tense rings of muscle caressing his cock in such a blissful manner.

He pulled out, watching himself withdraw from your hole, your juices slicked all over his length. Usually, such a dirty sight would make him cringe in disgust but it just increased his libidinous intentions. You whined in complaint, the raging fire inside your stomach quickly subsiding into nothing.

Sakusa sat back down in the office chair, deciding he’d give himself another reprieve to fulfill his desires.

“Turn around.”

He motioned for you to come and straddle his lap, which you abided to. You fully slid down your underwear and tossed it onto the floor. Your knees were on either side of his waist as he reached below the armrest to move the backrest of his chair backward, allowing him to recline in a more relaxed position.

You put your hands on his chest for leverage, which he surprisingly didn’t mind. Your hips rose as his hands clasped them, caressing them as you slid back down into his cock, your walls tingling and clenching from the overwhelming sensitivity, instantly milking him for his seed.

You moaned in unison with him as you sunk further down onto his length, tense fingertips leaving dark maroon dents on your hips. He bottomed out again, the searing head of his cock knocking at your cervix. Your avaricious walls slithered up and down Sakusa’s shaft, drawing a depraved bellow from him. He decided to reach his hand behind your head again, pushing you to give into another sloppy interaction of your lips. The tender globes of your ass rested on his toned thighs, your tongues scrambling against each other. Floral notes of iris and candied citrus with a hint of freshly grated cinnamon resided on his tongue as he entangled it with yours, a muffled bleat released from your throat. You pulled away, a bridge of saliva connected your tongues.

He gave a sudden thrust into your heat, your walls not prepared for the abrupt sensations. A licentious warble soared from your mouth which resulted in an aching spark to your ass.

“Damn mouse–” with the last, hard syllable of Sakusa’s sentence, another punitive slap was delivered onto the downy flesh. “You just want the whole building to hear you making such filthy noises, yeah?”

“Saku–Sakusaaa~” you moaned brazenly, paying no mind to the fact he’d punish you with another spank if you didn’t remain quiet–although it wasn’t like he minded either, head growing fuzzy from the way you yelped his name like a benediction every time his hips oscillated to meet yours. Your head tilted to the side exasperatedly, tears sliding down your dewy cheeks, indicating to him that he was so close to tipping you over the edge.

“Why’re you crying, slut?” he queried. You could just hear the quantity of smugness in his voice.

“Answer me.” he glowered, gripping your jaw roughly. A stray drop of saliva leaked from your mouth. Sakusa smeared it back onto your lips, saturating it in an even more lewd film.

“I–I’m gonna cum..!” you could barely breathe it out, the sensations searing your abdomen. He moaned at the way your voice cracked mid-statement, your gasps even louder now, your panting never slowing as he bounced you on top of his cock, splitting you along the shaft in the best way possible. He looks down at his shaft, seeing that some of your juices had dripped all over it. With the way your walls were sucking him in so greedily, it was no surprise that you were close.

“You couldn’t even last for that long? Tch.” his thumb reached for your clit, causing you to squeal at the velvety pain it gave you.

“Cum for me.”

You felt something inside you rip as you cried out one last time, your vision bursting into hues untouched by man as you fell further into rapture. He continued to plunge into your sopping heat as he, too, felt himself get closer to his end. He clutched at your hips, biting his lip as his cum filled you up, your tummy growing warm with the embers of your release.

He gazed up at you in all your depravity, saliva leaking from your lips, dew clinging to your cheeks, your combined juices gushing onto his balls. Such a sight would have made him so utterly disgusted, but with how absolutely ethereal you looked after he had just ravaged you, his mind could only drift into the wonder of what other things he could do with your pulpy little pussy.

Guess it’d take him all night to figure it out.

teehee

[ushidoux]

Someone Else’s - Sakusa x Reader x Ennoshita

Summary: Ennoshita hasn’t completely moved on, but the love of his life has. NSFW. (~3148 words +/- due to editing)

A/N: I’m so sorry to Ennoshita stans. Also special thanks to @bokutosmommy for helping me bounce off ideas.

---

“Thank you so much, Ennoshita-san!”

Ennoshita smiled warmly as he helped the elderly woman he was treating off the examination table. She wobbled ever so slightly as she got onto her feet, and gripped tensely onto his arm but Ennoshita held her steady, reassuring her that she had him. 

“Oh, you truly are such a kind young man. And my, it is truly a shame that you haven’t yet been snatched up!”

He let out a small pacifying laugh - this topic was frequent during their sessions, and as sweet as she was, the old lady had offered up everyone from her grandchildren to her nieces around his age, and he truly wasn’t in the mood to politely look at another stranger’s picture off her flip phone on this particular afternoon. 

Especially not when the first thing that had come to mind when awakening this morning was the woman who had broken his heart, someone he had actually planned to propose to just days before she broke up with him before disappearing without a trace.

“I’m too busy working hard in order to take care of patients like you to think about dating!” He joked as he helped lead her out to the exit. As he walked her down, he snuck a glance at the clock in the hallway, noting that he was a couple minutes late for his next patient. 

He let out a sigh internally. The young man to be seen next on his list was particularly impatient and wouldn’t be happy to wait even for a second. He hoped that by the time he made it back to the room, the technicians had at least turned the room over and taken his vitals.

By the time Ennoshita made it back to the room, he could see that the professional volleyball player he had been working with for the past month had already arrived, and was sitting in the corner of the room with legs crossed and fingertips pressed together.

“Good afternoon, Sakusa-san,” Ennoshita greeted formally.

Sakusa Kiyoomi did not answer immediately, peering up at him with dark eyes over a white surgical mask. He then gave a brief nod and stood up, pulling off his jacket and draping it neatly over the back of the chair, before sitting on the examination table.

He now looked at Ennoshita expectantly. Ennoshita kept his face kind as usual - even though Sakusa did grate on his nerves just a little, doing his best to sympathize with his cold behavior. Patellar tendon injuries were common in volleyball players but they were also incredibly frustrating, and Ennoshita, having played volleyball himself back in high school, knew something or another about frustration. Plus Sakusa was known for being more than a little abrasive at baseline, at least based on what his old high school teammates had told him.

“Did you do the exercises?”

“Mm.” At least Sakusa was willing to follow instructions. 

The session went smoothly as usual, and because Sakusa made little effort to engage in conversation, Ennoshita found his mind wandering briefly intermittently.

It’s hard to believe that you were once part of the team that beat Shiratorizawa that year, Sakusa had told him flippantly the first day they’d met. Of course, he thought that; aside from the old ladies he worked with, Ennoshita wasn’t particularly outstanding and he was painfully aware of that fact. 

Even she had told him this right before he and his last girlfriend had broken up. She had been so harsh then, but even he recognized it was true. He was a safe choice, someone you don’t hesitate to present to mom and dad but don’t also brag about to your friends, someone who was dependable but you could never be desperate to be with. He had worked on that over the past year, attempting to be more outgoing, picking up a few hobbies that would make him “interesting” like mixed martial arts and salsa dancing. 

Maybe he’d impress her if they ever met again.

But for now, his life was pretty routine, unlike guys like even Sakusa before him who commanded attention (whether unwillingly or not) whenever they entered a room and were still entrenched in the fast-pace and exciting world of volleyball. 

“We’re done here, right?” Sakusa said, abruptly. 

Ennoshita looked at the time, and noted that the thirty minutes were almost up. “Yeah, let me go get the sheet for your next set of exercises,” he said, turning around to go through a set of folders on a shelf. 

While he rummaged, behind him, there was a brief knock on the door right before the door swung open and soft, light footsteps ran in.

“Omi, we’re going to be late!”

“I told you to wait outside, stop being so clingy,” he snapped back.

And Ennoshita turned around so fast he almost got whiplash - he could recognize that voice, your voice anywhere - and stared right at you, your arms affectionately wrapped around Sakusa’s shoulders while he was trying to shake you off with irritation.

You froze, the smile on your face fading, replaced with your mouth opening just slightly in shock. Ennoshita froze, the packet of exercises he was prepared to hand Sakusa slipping out of his fingers as he stood still, falling to the ground in a loud flutter.

“Chi-kun,” you whispered under your breath, your eyes wide and your heart thumping in your chest.

“___...”

You inhaled sharply, and reflexively your arms withdrew from where they rested around Sakusa’s neck, and while Sakusa had made a big deal of resisting your affection, the fact that you stopped so quickly at the sight of another man awakened a different type of discontentment in him.

“Why…” Ennoshita started, but the rest of his sentence died in his throat. Why were you here? Why were you with him? Why did you leave?

Why now?

“I… um… fuck,” you started, then stopped, shame now washing over you as you remembered how cruel you were before and how cruel you were being this very moment. You had no explanation for the fact that you had refused to answer his calls or texts, and barely offered him any type of closure aside from You’re frankly kind of boring, and I’m not sure I want to be with you anymore. 

And to see each other again, right in front of your boyfriend who was quite... particular? This wouldn’t end well. 

You found yourself rushing to leave the room, but suddenly Sakusa’s hand clamped around your wrist as you turned and he pulled hard, almost yanking you back to his side.

“Where are you going, babe?” He asked with a smirk, not looking at you but instead directly at Ennoshita who had in mere moments turned from unwitting ally to absolute enemy. He seemed to shake like paper, and Sakusa could almost read the unwritten history between you all written all over his face, and it made him angry. Maybe even furious.

Had his precious little girl also fucked this guy? Really?

Clearly so, because you never resisted his touch usually, in fact you craved it, and now you were all but worming your way out of his grasp which he kept like iron, obvious panic in your eyes as you pleaded for him to let you leave the room.

“L-let me talk to you in the car,” you half-whispered, half-begged.

“About what?” Sakusa replied coolly, his voice much louder than needed to be. 

The way you looked now to Ennoshita was like a trapped mouse and he could no longer bear it. Why couldn’t Sakusa be gentle with you? Didn’t he know you liked to be treated softly and with care? He had always treated you like you were gold, after all. 

Were you the girlfriend Sakusa complained about every so often? The one who was very sweet but overbearing? The only reason why he showed up to this place session after session after all instead of bearing the discomfort and heading back to the courts as soon as possible?

“P-please let go of her,” Ennoshita eked out in a small voice, keeping his gaze down. “It’s just that s-she and I knew each other from before and… it must be very awkward-”

Sakusa suddenly cut in with a laugh.

“Shut the fuck up. I didn’t ask.”

Ennoshita looked up with shock mirroring your own as you both watched him in surprise. Sakusa let go of your wrist, and you subconsciously rubbed the sting out of the tender skin. He walked across the room, stopping right before Ennoshita who again tensed reflexively, and bent down to pick up the dropped packet.

“This was mine, right?” He confirmed as he rose to his full height, his smile again dark as he looked down towards Ennoshita. Ennoshita nodded slowly, and you could almost hear him swallow hard.

“I’ll just take what’s mine and leave then,” he said, now moving past Ennoshita to grab his jacket. Reaching into his pocket, he replaced his face mask then walking towards you, pulled out a second one to hand to you before gripping your hand firmly again.

“Thanks for all of your help!” His voice stunk of mock cheer. For you, he unwrapped the individually wrapped face mask and dangled it before you by the tips of his fingers.

“I told you to wear these, at least when you’re in the hospital. These people are disgusting.”

And with that, Sakusa walked out hand in hand with you, the love of Ennoshita’s life.

---

“Why did you do that, Kiyoomi?”

You had spent most of the ride back to Kiyoomi’s apartment in silence, but you knew by how tightly Sakusa was gripping the steering wheel and the furrow in his eyebrow that he was probably scowling underneath his face mask the entire time. Any other time you would have reached for his free hand, and maybe he would have scowled about the unnecessary physical contact and asked you if you had sanitized your hands first before begrudgingly accepting your touch, but you would have smiled anyway and gently stroked the palm of your weird, grumpy Omi.

Any other time. But right this very moment, he deserved the opposite of compassion.

Sakusa gave you a very brief, aggravated look, then turned back to the road before him. He scoffed, noticing your pursed lips and the crossed arms over your chest. You were practically as angry as he was, stewing quietly in the passenger seat.

How dare you.

“Oh, did I hurt your ex’s feelings? Is that why you’re upset?”

“Omi…,” you said in a small, yet stern voice.

“Don’t ‘Omi~’ me. He looked at you like you fell out of the sky. Like you were an angel from above. Not like the dirty slut you are-”

“Kiyoomi!” 

He scoffed, gripping the steering wheel even tighter with both hands now.

“Don’t act like you don’t beg me to call you that when you’re bent over and I’m balls deep inside your guts. What’s the difference right now? Aren’t you always my dirty slut? Do you want me to respect you now? Is that what he did? Give you respect? Who the fuck does he think he is?”

The blood was starting to rush to your face and you wanted to scream at him for being an asshole as usual, but you could tell he was only getting more riled up by the second. You bit your lip and held your tongue, ready to unleash the moment he parked. 

But before you could say a single word the second he turned off the ignition, now that you were in the quiet, covered lot outside of his apartment complex, he reached across to your side of the car, all but ripping off the mask on your face (and his). Jerking your chin to his with the tips of his fingers, he smashed your lips to his in a kiss that was so intense, you were sure it contained most if not all the violence he had held back just minutes earlier.

Minutes that felt like seconds passed as his tongue forced itself down your throat and teeth grazed against lips and you lost the ability to breathe and to think and you were mad on whose behalf? 

All that mattered was that you got more from Omi, you wanted more from your Omi, and now you had traversed the car’s console to straddle your Omi in the driver’s seat and you were now grinding against him, and he was now pulling away -

Oh, why was he pulling away?

Breathy pants now parted your swollen, red, wanting lips and your half-lidded eyes took in the lustful eyes staring at your lips and the half-smirk now on his visage, the one that made it obvious that he knew he had already won you over and you were absolutely powerless to him, that you were his.

You paused, your arms draped around his neck, waiting, knowing that if you didn’t stop now to start up again, once you were inside, you’d fuck in the car in this dim garage and who knows who would see you?

“Since I didn’t get to beat his ass, I’m beating your pussy up instead.”

---

You had really moved on.

Now that Ennoshita had seen you in the flesh for the first time in nearly a year, he realized how much he had been holding on to the possibility of ever seeing you again, in a future where he was something other than the boring and safe choice, someone you tolerated but your heart didn’t tremble for.

And to see you with one of Japan’s top aces... Someone who had been better than him for you before you even knew of his existence. It was unbearable to think about.

He continued to stare at the ceiling dejectedly. He’d been crying literally the entire way home from work, and now on top of being sad for the love that never was, he was doubly upset for how freely his tears flowed tonight. The fact that he couldn’t even stand his ground when threatened, that he had even flinched when Sakusa got close (Was he this much of a bitch? Did you see him? No wonder you dropped him.).

He let out a cough as phlegm stuck in his throat and rubbed his eyelids. He had been laying sprawled on his back ever since he came back from work, staring at the ceiling and he was pretty sure his eyes were puffy and red.

Pitiful.

He reached for his phone and considered making a profile on Tinder, his finger hovering over the program in the app store. That would have been the right move. Move on like you had.

Instead he pulled up his photo folders, and settled on his favorite picture of you. One where you were alone and smiling for him, your face tilted just so towards the camera, and happiness crinkling your eyes. He always loved your eyes.

Reaching over his end table for the lone bottle of lotion, he pulled down his underwear with the other hand, freeing his semi-hard cock. Maybe… just maybe if he could think of you as you were when you were his, like in this picture; if he could ignore the fresh memory of you looking at him with regret in your eyes, he could feel you again with him.

---

“O-Omi… Omi! Oh my… fuck, Omi!!”

You reflexively pushed at his face as you squirmed, then trembled then flailed wildly as Sakusa slurped the absolute life out of you, tongue circling and swishing and flicking everywhere from your clit to your vestibule to inside your vagina… In fact, at some point, you were sure he’d bit ever so slightly at your labia and you let out a yelp, only for him to stuff you quiet with two of his fingers, already sopping wet with the juices dripping out of your soaking cunt.

“Suck if you can’t keep your filthy mouth shut,” he scoffed.

You moaned through the taste of his fingers, the taste of yourself. Sakusa had a way of being even meaner in bed that lit a fire inside you; the abrasiveness only seemed to get worse the more horny he got. And yet, you knew right now he was so aggressive because of the mere fact that he loved you and his pride had been shaken just thinking that someone else had once claimed you as theirs. The very fact that, germaphobe as he was, he was so deep in your thighs that parts of his skin shone with your slick was already proof of that.

“You’re moving too much,” he said sternly, his grip tightening around your thighs. You muffled an apology through a full mouth, only to be attacked with a long stroke of the tongue on your core which sent a shockwave through you and had you at a loss for words.

“Is this how you moaned for him?” Sakusa stopped suddenly, his breathy words sending a shiver of cold through your spine as they landed on your moist cunt.

You shook your head frantically.

“Good,” he said as though it were business as usual, rising to drop his pants and let his cock spring free. Even his cock looked angry, tumescent, dusky at the head and at attention, and you could feel your core ache in anticipation already. 

He flipped you like a pancake on the bed, hooking one arm around your midsection (you were already too fucked out just from his fingers and mouth to move yourself unfortunately), and positioned you into a tripod position before lining himself behind your already semi-abused entrance.

“Stay still. I’m going to fuck you like every man you’ve ever had is slamming you all at once, you dirty, dirty girl.”

---

In the dim light of Ennoshita’s bedroom, all that could be heard were soft sobs and the sound of flesh stroking flesh, and soon there were cries of your name and the sobs grew louder and more pained until release which came out as a deep, guttural, desperate groan. He was aching for someone who no longer existed. A you from the past that no longer existed.

The you of the present moaned, sobbed, and convulsed, screaming Kiyoomis, Omis, Oh mys, Oh Gods, I love yous, Don’t stops, Never stops to Sakusa who pounded you relentlessly, slapping every inch of skin on your buttcheek, marking every part of your body with kisses, bites, pulling your hair, closing his fingers around your throat - doing anything and everything that Ennoshita could no longer do. He touched you in ways your ex never could, rough, then eventually soft the moment he finally, eventually, and to your relief, came inside you, coating your clenching walls with hot cum coming out in so many spurts. He unseated himself, and you could feel some volume of him spilling out of you immediately - he had come so much, probably more than he ever had before, and you expected him to immediately disappear to shower, but maybe there was something about his jealousy that made him both harsh and gentle for you today. 

He whispered your name as he lay beside you, his fingers intertwined with yours. He pulled you closer, and your pleasantly exhausted, sweaty, sticky face found its way into the crook of his neck. Your breathing evened, the room was now quiet, but the very air was loaded with the transient echoes of your sinful dance just moments ago.

“I love you.”

Your heart sped up. It was so hard for Sakusa to say something so frank, so honest and so vulnerable, but before you could say you loved him too - oh you knew, you were sure you did - he kept going, and with this he held you tighter:

“I don’t ever want to look at you like I lost everything. No matter what I say, no matter what I do, promise you’ll always love me, and you’ll always be my side. I will do my best to be good to you.”

And that’s when you realized that Sakusa’s greatest fear was Ennoshita’s reality.

[batfam-rewrites]

Batfam During Quarantine: Retirement

Dick pulls up in front of the apartment that Barbara and her family lives in. He takes out his boom box and sets in a cassette tape. He sets the volume to the maximum setting. He holds the boom box over his head as Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes” starts playing.

Dick: BABS!!!!

He waits out there for a few minutes until she opens up the window and leans out of it.

Barbara: You Dick!

The song ends and starts playing “I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing” from Aerosmith.

Dick: BABS! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! PLEASE TALK TO ME!

Neighbor 1: GO HOME!

Dick: I’M DOING THIS FOR LOVE!

Neighbor 2: LOVE IS DEAD YOU SCHMUCK!

Dick: YOU’RE HEART IS DEAD!

Neighbor 3: SHUT THE FUCK UP KID!

Jim Gordon: DICK, IT IS 5 AM! GO THE FUCK HOME!

Dick: FINE!

The next night

Dick walks up to the door to the Gordon family’s apartment. He knocks on the door and Jim opens the door.

Dick: Hey Jim, I was sorta expecting Babs to open the door.

Jim: *looks at the cards in Dick’s hands* Just take a hint kid. You’re making this harder than it needs to be.

Dick: I’m persistent, it’s part of my charm.

Jim: Whatever. *shuts the door*

A minute late Barbara opens the door.

Dick: *holding the cards*

Barbara: They’re facing you.

Dick: *looks down and flips the cards around* “Babs, I know I messed things up by *flips the card* not telling you Helena was staying at the *flips the card* mansion. I want you to know that you are *flips the card*

Barbara: *shuts the door on Dick*

Dick: I still have twenty-something cards left. At least finish reading them.

Two days later at the grocery store

Barbara is walking down the aisle looking for food. The music playing over the speakers as a voice replaces the music.

Dick: You’re just to good to be true. Can’t take my eyes off of you. You'd be like Heaven to touch. I wanna hold you so much. 

Barbara starts looking around the store for Dick and sees him leaning against a wall with one of the phones.

Dick: *notices Barbara and points to hear and then makes a heart with his hands* At long last, love has arrived. And I thank God I'm alive. You're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off of you. *plays the instrumental part on his phone*

A store employee now spots Dick and heads towards him.

Dick: I love you, baby. And if it's quite alright. *struggles to keep possession of the phone* Get away, you’ll sing next. I need you baby *still fighting for the phone* To warm the lonely night. *starts climbing between the wall and the refrigerated section* I love you, baby. Trust in me when I say.

Barbara starts walking away embarrassed.

Dick: Oh, pretty baby, wait Babs, where you going? Babs? Babs? BAAABBS! LET ME ME LOVE YOUUUUU!

Daily Briefing

Dick: Okay, while things are a bit peaceful now, they’re not going to stay that way forever. Let’s try to plan ahead now and see if we can recruit any former members of Batman Inc. Tim, Steph, and Duke, you guys need to try and convince Luke to come out of retirement. Kate and Babs you go try and convince Bette to join us in Gotham.

Jason: What are the rest of us doing?

Dick: Selina, Jason, Harper, Cass, and Damian will patrol and hand out mask later today....

Harper: Cool, glad I can finally do something!

Jason: Got it!

Dick: And I will be sulking in my room!

Damian: Try again, Grayson.

Dick: I will be on patrol and handing out mask as Nightwing! Julia will be on monitor duty and Helena, tonight you’ll be on sanitation duty.

Helena: *sexually* Whatever you say.

Selina: Oh god!

Duke: Please stop!

Tim: There is a child present!

Jason: *Laughs hysterically* Am I the only one who still thinks this is funny?

Stephanie: Apparently so!

Dick: Alright, let’s get moving.

Tim, Duke, Stephanie, and Luke

Tim: Damn, it’s nice to finally be out of the mansion!

Duke: We were on patrol almost every night.

Tim: Yeah, but as Red Robin, not Tim Drake.

Stephanie: I mean, I guess that’s true.

Tim: *knocks on the door* 

Luke: *opens the door* Hey guys, it’s been a while!

Tim: Hey Luke, how have you been!

Luke: Not bad, Tim! What about you guys?

Tim: Could be better!

Stephanie: Not bad!

Duke: Send help!

Luke: Their dysfunction has gotten to you I’m assuming?

Duke: Maybe.

Tim and Stephanie: We’re not dysfunctional!!!

Luke: Relax! I’m talking about the others.

Tim: Kay, coolcoolcool.

Stephanie: Yeah, the others are pretty dysfunctional.

Luke: Anyways, come on in guys. Take a seat in the living room.

All three walk in and sit in the living room.

Tim: Okay I’m going to cut straight to the point, things aren’t going to be so peaceful for so long. It’s only a matter of time until the Joker pops up with a futuristic Batsuit or some dude comes in with a plan to destroy Batman in multiple ways.

Luke: I’m not coming out of retirement, Tim.

Stephanie: Why not?

Luke: Because I can’t stand to go back being some vigilante trying to save the city. I mean don’t you guys get tired of feeling like the weight of this city is pressing down on you every time you put on that mask.

Tim: Yeah, but I mean it’s not that bad.

Luke: When was the last time you slept.

Tim: Like 6 hours. Plus 2 days.

Luke: That’s my point! This is a thankless job that you guys work your ass off for.

Duke: Yeah coming here may have been a mistake. Let’s go guys, Luke’s not coming back.

Stephanie: Why not stay here Duke. I mean, Luke is right. We risk our lives to save some fucks who don’t give two shits whether we live or die. Sure they’d be sad if we did, but they would only be sad because that would mean they’d have to actually defend themselves!

Tim: Yeah, that is a great point!

Stephanie: Woooo let’s get hammered, this is my retirement party fuckers!

Luke: You’re not drinking alcohol! You’re under age!

Stephanie: Whatever! *stands up and walks out the door*

Duke: Tim, let’s go!

Tim: Yeah, I mean it’s probably about time I retired too!

Duke: Damn it!

Damian and Jon

Damian sets up a zoom call with Jon

Damian: Hey, Kent.

Jon: Hey, Wayne.

Damian: Why must you mock me?

Jon: Why must you mock me?

Damian: Goodbye!

Jon: No, wait, I want attention!!!!

Damian: Works like a charm. How’s it going over there?

Jon: Not bad, it’s super boring. I wish I had 50 people staying at my place.

Damian: No you don’t! It is awful. I want to punch Drake constantly, Grayson is always trying to hand out hugs, Todd tried to kill me!

Jon: The hugs don’t sound....

Damian: Row turned my knife into an electric razor...

Jon: How...

Damian: Kyle keeps trying to bond with me, Cain tried to stab me because I stole a waffle from her, Bertinelli and her lust for Grayson is annoying! Honestly, Pennyworth and Thomas are the only ones who haven’t managed to piss me off.

Jon: You know what, I take back what I said earlier.

Damian: Wise choice.

Jon: Hey, remember the time your dad almost adopted me?

Jason: *talking in the hallway*

Damian: That was funny. Hey I got to go, I’m about to go on patrol.

Jon: During the day, I thought you guys were nocturnal.

Damian: No, we are not. We’ll talk later.

Jon: See ya!

Damian: Bye. *rushes to the door to see if he could hear Jason*

Jason: I’ll see you there. *walks off*

Damian: *walks out of his room and sees Selina* 

Selina: Hey Dami, you ready to go on patrol?

Damian: Actually, we have a change in plans.

Nightwing

Nightwing: *sees a kid walking by without a mask, he squats down and waves* Hey what’s up little dude!

Little kid: *runs away from parents and hugs Nightwing*

Parent: Hey! Sorry, we’re still trying to get him to understand what social distancing is.

Nightwing: It’s okay, he’s young, he’ll eventually get the idea. I see that someone lost their mask though! Do you like super heroes kiddo!

Little kid: *nods excitedly* Batgirl is my favorite!

Nightwing: Really! Batgirl is my favorite, too! Hey, let’s get you another mask buddy! *reaches into the box of mask he has and hands a Batgirl mask to the parent to put on the kid’s face*

Parent: Thank you so much! *puts the mask on the little kids face*

Nightwing: No problem! Stay safe! *waits a bit longer and puts in an earbud*

Nightwing: *sees another guy not wearing a mask* Hey, how about we wear a mask buddy!

Guy: Piss off!

Nightwing: Come on. Let’s try to think about everyone else.

Guy: Who cares! If I get the virus I won’t die! It’s only the old people who are dying! 

Nightwing: Okay, please tell me your joking.

Guy: I mean, you don’t really see much other people dying.

Nightwing: If you pay attention to the statistics you would see that there are other people who are 20, 30, 40 years old and dying from this virus! Can you just put the mask on?

Guy: Hell no, it’s uncomfortable for me!

Nightwing: UNCOMFORTABLE FOR YOU! I HAVE TO WEAR ONE FOR LEGIT MOST OF THE DAY. OUR CITIES FIRST RESPONDERS MUST WEAR ONE TO DO THEIR DAMN JOBS. NO ONE, ESPECIALLY ME OR ANY NURSE, FIREMAN, POLICE OFFICER, ET CETERA, CARES IF IT BOTHERS YOU! PUT ON THE DAMN MASK!!!

Guy: Damn. *starts walking away*

Nightwing: *grabs cologne* Sir, don’t make me do this.

Guy: Do what? Bit......

Nightwing: *sprays cologne all over the guys face*

Guy: pffft. pfffffftt. 

Nightwing: I bet you’d like a mask now!

Guy: YOU FUCKING SON OF A

Nightwing: *spays the cologne at his face again* Hey! *throws a mask at the guy* No profanity! There’s kids around. Put on the mask, too. 

Guy: *puts the mask on reluctantly and walks away* Stupid vigilante in this stupid damn city. Hate this damn place.

Nightwing: *watches him walk away for a bit* Never thought I’d take a page out of Jay’s book.

Julia: Nightwing, need you over in Gotham Heights. There’s a.... *clears throat*..... situation over there. I’m sending you the coordinates now.

Nightwing: On my way! *takes off firing the grappling hook into the side of a building as he takes off*

Jason

Jason walks towards the house, checking his surroundings to see if any of his “family” members followed him. Fortunate for him, Dick is preoccupied with his thoughts and Damian and Selina left after he did.

He opens the door and walks inside of his safe house. He then sits down, takes off his helmet, sets it down on the table, and turns on the tv to watch Supernatural. Not long after Roy walks downstairs.

Roy: What’s up Jaybird?

Jason: Not much Roy.

Roy then sits down on the couch next to him to watch with him.

Roy: Is it just me or would Jensen Ackles be the perfect person to play you if there was to ever be a movie about you?

Jason: I KNOW, RIGHT!!!! Hey do you want to order some pizza?

Roy: Sure!

Roy begins to pull out his phone when they hear a knock at the door.

Jason: Hide! 

Roy: Hey it’s my safe house, too!

Jason: It’s my city! Hide!

Roy begins to hide as Jason looks outside the door to see Damian and Selina outside the door. 

Jason: *opens the door* Hey Catwoman, Robin! What are you guys doing here?

Damian: More importantly, what are you doing here?

Jason: Following up on a lead. I saw a very shady guy leave here so I’m looking for some evidence.

Selina: Are those your guns on the counter? And your helmet and phone on the table?

Jason: No.

Damian: Then where’s your guns?

Jason: Okay, I hate to admit it, but I came across a dog and decided to pet it, then it bit the barrel of both guns and ran off.

Selina: Mmmmhhhmmmm and why don’t I believe you?

Jason: Because everyone but Duke has trust issues.

Damian: Give it up, Todd.

Jason: Give what up?

Damian: *walks over to the closet and opens the door*

Roy: Woah, how the hell did I get here!

Jason: *shakes his head*

Tim, Duke, Stephanie, and Luke

Duke: Dude, you broke Tim and Steph.

Luke: No I didn’t!

Duke: Really because we came here to try and convince you to be Batwing again and yet you somehow got them both to decide to retire!

Luke: So, they should! They deserve it. No kid should have to deal with that kind of stress!

Duke: Dude, we live in Gotham freaking City. Stress is literally stuff we learn in 6th grade because our parents need us to get jobs!

Luke: You had to get a job in 6th grade?

Duke: Oh right, sorry I forgot you all are rich! Hey, where’s Steph and Tim?

Luke: Outside somewhere.

Duke: DUDE!!!! WE HAVE TO FIND THEM!!!!!!

Luke: They’ll be fine!

Duke: Whatever. *walks towards the door* If you change your mind, you know where to call. *he walks out the door*

____

Tim: *grabs a helium tank* Hey Steph!

Stephanie: *turns around*

Tim: *pulls down the mask and inhales the helium* I am vengeance, I am the night, I am BATMAN!

Stephanie: O-M-G!!! That is amazing!

Jason, Roy, Damian, and Selina

Selina: So again, Jason, what are you doing here?

Jason: Trying to get away from you people! Do you know how often I want to shoot Dick alone from all of the stupid stuff he does! 

Damian: Yes!

Jason: You’re no better. You can not adopt stray animals every week!

Damian: They can catch the virus, too! They need a home!

Jason: They have one! In the wild somewhere!

Selina: What’s your point?

Jason: I needed a place to escape you idiots at the mansion. There’s only so much I can take before I break B’s no killing rule.

Damian: Then why is Harper here?

Roy: Jaybird has been my emotional support person since Kori left Earth for Tamaran.

Selina: I can see that.

Damian: Is this where you’ve been every single patrol?

Jason: Not every one. Only when I get sick of you all. 

Selina: Everyday!!!!

Roy: *laughs uncontrollably*

Jason: Not everyday!!! Look, this is why I need this place, because I can’t stand you fuckers!!! Get out of my house!

Damian: How did you even pay for this place?

Jason: I USED TO KILL PEOPLE FOR A LIVING!!!!

Selina: Jason, your not supposed to even be here. We need to leave now.

Jason: Yes you fucking should!

Selina: I meant all of us!

Jason: Good luck with that! You’ll have to drag me out.

Damian: Just watch us do it!

Roy: This is getting a bit personal, I’m gunna grab my bow and leave.

Jason: Stay Roy!

Roy: Okay, I’ll stay!

Selina: How are we so awful? What is it that we do that bothers you so much?

Jason: I don’t want to talk about it!

Selina: What is it?

Jason: You guys make me want to actually be a part of the family! You guys care for me, and make fun of me *starts crying* and make me laugh, and it’s not fucking fair!

Selina: Jason..... I’m.... I’m sorry. Why are you crying?

Jason: Because this shit has always been unfamiliar to me! Family has always been fucked up for me before Bruce. When he took me in I didn’t know how to feel because at that point my life was filled with rage, sadness, and confusion. *sits down on the couch* Then came in Dick, who at first made me feel at home with how much he hated the fact that I replaced him, until a few months go by for him to accept me as a brother he never had. Then I fuckin’ died!

Selina: *sits down next to Jason* It’s okay if you want some time away from us, I understand now that this is new. We won’t ever stop loving you Jason. If you ever need a break from us then I’ll cover for you, just don’t be out for too long.

Jason: Thanks Selina.

Roy: *starts humming Love Is A Battlefield*

Selina: Are you humming Love Is A Battlefield?

Jason: He is so humming Pat Benatar right now.

Roy: No, you’re all just hearing things.

Damian: Who’s Pat Benatar?

Jason: Okay, GET OUT!!!!

Selina: *rushes themselves out the door* Let’s go Dami, we’ve overstayed our welcome!

Damian: But my phone!

Roy and Jason: GET OUT!

Tim and Stephanie

Stephanie: *dancing in a strangers house* Woooo!!!

Tim: *break dancing to “Dirrty” in the middle of a dance circle*

Stephanie: *nudges the person next to her* I’m friends with that guy!

Stranger: Nice!

Stephanie: I know right!

Tim: *steps out of the dance circle* Hey!

Stephanie: How many Red Bulls did you have?

Tim: How many legs does a wolf-tigark have.

Stephanie: What!

Tim: I’m super fucked up!

Stephanie: Same! Wanna have sex?

Tim: Sure!

Duke, Cassandra, and Harper

Duke: Hey, Harper! Do you remember that time you were totally surrounded by the Riddler’s henchmen and I swooped in and saved you, and you were like “Thanks dude! You’re the best! I totally owe you one!”

Harper: Yes, I remember part of that being true!

Duke: Well, I need you to return that favor and you can not tell any of the others. I lost Tim and Stephanie and need help finding them.

Harper: What the hell Duke! How did this happen?

Duke: Well, Luke broke Tim and Steph, causing them to decide to retire, then they disappeared.

Harper: Okay, Orphan and I will be right there after we take down these two drug dealing pimps!

Duke: Thank you!

Harper: *hangs up the phone* Okay, let’s take care of this Orphan!

They both jump down landing a kick to their chest. Harper then grabbed her dudes arm and broke his wrist, finally stomping on his face, knocking the dude out. Cass walked towards her guy reaching down and throwing him against a wall, then kicking his back.

Nightwing

Nightwing: *arrives at the apartment door*

Boyfriend: YOU STUPID BITCH! WHY CAN’T YOU DO ANYTHING RIGHT! 

Girlfriend: *through tears* I’m sorry!

Boyfriend: *slaps the girlfriend* SHUT UP BITCH!

Nightwing: *knocks on the door*

Boyfriend: *opens door* Can I help you?

Nightwing: Yes hi. I was walking around the neighborhood and wanted to know if you wanted to donate to the charity of whoop-ass?

Boyfriend: Not interested. *tries to close the door*

Nightwing: *pushes the door open* Hold on, you need to hear the rest of my pitch! *kicks the boyfriend in the chest* 

Girlfriend: *still crying* NO! PLEASE STOP!

Nightwing: Wha-

Boyfriend: *tries to throws a few punch at Nightwing’s face*

Nightwing: *drops to the floor and goes for a flare, sweeping the boyfriend off his feet*

The sound of sirens is heard out side.

Nightwing: *temporarily distracted by the sirens*

Boyfriend: *gets up* YOU CALLED THE COPS! YOU UNGRATEFUL GOOD FOR NOTHING BITCH! *tries to punch his girlfriend*

Nightwing: *catches his fist* Not gunna happen. *tosses the boyfriend against the wall and has him put his hands over his head*

Police Officer: G-C-P-D! GET YOUR..... Oh, Nightwing? How random seeing one of you guys here. Like always. *goes in to arrest the boyfriend*

Nightwing: *kneels down to where the girlfriend is sitting and takes note of the cuts and marks on her arms* Are you okay?

Girlfriend: I-*sob* I don’t *sob* know what *sob* I did *sob* wrong?

Nightwing: You did nothing wrong. Everything will be okay. Did he hit you?

Girlfriend: *nods her head yes*

Nightwing: Where did he hit you?

Girlfriend: *looks up to reveal a black eye and cuts on her face* My *sob* face, arms *sob*, stomach. *buries her head in her arms and starts to cry even harder*

Nightwing: Hey, it’s going to be okay. It’s all going to be okay. 

Nightwing tries the best he can to comfort the girl before the EMT arrived. After that he stuck around for a bit to give a statement of what happened when he arrived and to make sure everything was fine before he left.

Duke, Stephanie, Tim, Harper, and Cassandra

Stephanie: *wakes up* Ugh. My head! *she looks over at Tim and smiles as she gets out of the bed*

Tim: *starts to wake* Ow! *sees Stephanie* Hey!

Stephanie: Hey! 

Tim: *sits up on the bed*

Stephanie: Look about what happened, can we agree it was a drunk mistake.

Tim: Yeah! *rubs the back of his head and stands up close to Stephanie* I’m sorry, I can’t pretend! *he pulls her in and kisses her* I really like you!

Stephanie: I like you, too.

Tim: Wanna crawl back under the covers again for a bit?

Stephanie: Absolutely!

____

Desk Clerk: Thank you, hope you enjoyed your stay!

Tim: We certainly did, thank you! *both Stephanie and Tim walk out the door and see Duke, Cassandra, and Harper* 

Stephanie: Hey, you found us!

Duke: Get in the car!

Harper: Spent most of the night looking for you suckers until we saw that Tim used his credit card to purchase a hotel room there! 

Tim: We’re sorry you had to go searching for us!

Duke: Also, if you are even still thinking about retiring, you’re going to have to tell Bruce yourself.

Stephanie: We’re not retiring. We probably just thought it was a good idea because we were both sleep deprived.

Duke: Good, because I didn’t want to see Bruce lose his shit!

Dick and Julia/Dick and Jason

Back at the Batcave

Julia: How did it go?

Dick: Rough. That building was well into Harper’s sector though, why did you have me take care of it?

Julia: I think you know why.

Dick: *thinks for a moment* Because of the way I’ve been reacting to my breakup with Bab’s.

Julia: If you stopped thinking of how to win her back for one second, you would see that she is most likely suffering as much as you are. 

Dick: I understand. I’m going to head upstairs. Don’t stay down here much longer, that’s an order.

Julia: Are you still entitled to give orders?

Dick: I still get to wear the cowl, don’t I?

Julia: Fair enough.

Dick quickly showers and heads upstairs.

Jason: Hey, Dickwad. Over here.

Dick: Sup, Jay?

Jason: Follow me.

Jason leads Dick to the parking garage and into one of Bruce’s cars and drives to the safe house.

Jason: Welcome, to the safe house. I heard you had a rough day so I thought it would be worth it to take you here. Wayne house free zone so feel free to cry, let out your feeling, whatever you need to do to process this. I’ll wait in the car.

Dick: *crying* Jay.

Jason: Yeah.

Dick: *hugs Jason* Thank you!

Jason: No problem. If you tell Bruce, I will end you though.

Dick: Got it!

While I try to make these stories for the most part humorous and entertaining, domestic violence is a very serious topic. Since quarantine, domestic violence rates have gone up. If you or some one you know is in an abusive relationship or has found themselves in one since quarantine began, don’t hesitate to call the Domestic Violence Support hotline at 1 (800) 799 7233. You can also go to thehotline.org to contact them.

If someone you know has just left an abusive relationship (boyfriend/girlfriend, husband/wife, parent/child) remember to be there for them. Allow them to talk but don’t force them too if they don’t want to. Make sure not to bash the guilty party and respond about them neutrally. Most of all, make sure to let them know that they are still loved, and that they are still the same person, even if they feel that they are not.

I will be reblogging this message on my blog. I ask you to please share and reblog as much as you can.

[srirachvbi]

quarantined with you ! (part one)

a/n: this is literally just headcanons on how some of the guys would react to being stuck at home during quarantine lmao (MANGA SPOILERS) also some of these are shorter than the others because i am... lazy ! i’ll try to post more headcanons with different characters for this soon but this has been sitting in my drafts for a while so i wanted to post it Warning(s): mentions of sex but they’re brief and not that detailed, cursing

Bokuto Koutarou

Oh my god this literal CHILD would be a pain in the ass in the beginning

The season had been cancelled due to Miss Rona and he was completely heartbroken

He wasn’t even allowed to go to the gym or even the courts to practice !!

You two didn’t live together yet (you two had been looking at apartments but couldn’t find one that suited either of you at the same time, but your apartment was probably big enough to fit the two of you already) but the minute that quarantine was set in place he literally showed up at your door with his belongings

Surprise! you got yourself a roommate now because he can’t stand being by himself in his lonesome apartment 

LETS PRETEND HE PROBABLY DOESN’T HAVE A HUGE PENTHOUSE BECAUSE HE’S A RICHASS VOLLEYBALL PLAYER ITS CUTER IF HE’S LIVING WITH YOU

It’s not like you’re complaining though-- he’s literally your big baby

Since he can’t go to the gym or the courts, he’d probably go on a really long morning run 

A lot of the time when he wants to run, he’d try to force you to go with him because he wants to spend time with you :(

LMAO sike-- bitch he THOUGHT you’d even think about getting out of bed at SIX IN THE MORNING????

He actually convinced you to go with him once and you refused to go ever again after almost losing a lung

I’m sorry luvs but Bokuto can’t be trusted in the kitchen so you’re either ordering food or cooking for the both of you 

He tries his best tho!!

Since you two have the most time in the world tho, you actually try to teach him how to cook (yikes good luck)

There was a mishap where your apartment almost got burned down but after a while he got his shit together

You: I’m gonna kill myself if you burn down my apartment Kou

Him: haha don’t kill yourself youre so sexy <3

You: perish <3

Honestly, he’d try his best to help you out or cheer you up tho!!

Like, he’s kinda dense and doesn’t really know how to do any household chores but if you’re not feeling great, he’d go out of his way to figure out how to cheer you up

If you’re sad about being stuck inside? Just wait lmao you’re gonna get literally TACKLED cause he !! does !! not !! tolerate !! sadness !! 

You guys would probably do tik tok dances and trends because you’re bored

He’d throw it back on you ngl

After a while, Bo would probably adapt to quarantine and you definitely showed him how to clean a few things so eventually he started to be helpful!!

Weekly facetimes or zoom calls with the other MSBY Black Jackals players because all of them are pressed about quarantine

Bo would probably go back to his apartment every now and then whenever you needed space to do your work/school work!! 

Or he’d bother the shit out of you and complain if you didn’t give him the attention but unimportant

Oh and

y’all would probably get it on like... almost every single night

He just seems like the kind of person to be horny since he’s bored

Your poor bed :(

Baths afterwards were the best part though because !! he’s all warm and bulky

LIKE IMAGINE JUST BEING IN HIS ARMS AJFKLJDF

I’m a Bokuto Simp

n e ways

he’d try to teach you volleyball if you had enough free time (ofc you do) because he gets so bored

If you already know how to play, he’d probably just toss it back and forth because he doesn’t want to hurt his precious s/o with his POWERFUL ass spikes godDAMN

So, yeah Kou would probably be a pain in the ass at first but he’d definitely settle down with the fact that he’s stuck inside with his cuteass s/o 

Him: hey did you know that I love you?

You: SIMP-- wait no, don’t cry baby ily2

Sakusa Kiyoomi

Lmao sorry luvs you ain’t gonna see him <3

The MINUTE he found out that there was a virus, this bitch FLED to his apartment

Like, he stocked up on a TON of supplies and dipped

He literally pulled a “went out to buy some milk” and disappeared off the planet 

Since you’re his s/o, he wouldn’t completely shut you out but he would NOT let you into his apartment unless you avoided all human contact for 14 days and showed no signs of Miss Rona

Honestly, you wouldn’t see him that much because he just... doesn’t want anyone near him

You: :((( bby

Him: Stay away bitch <3 

You two would facetime a lot tho and he’d just nag you about staying healthy because he doesn’t want his s/o to get sick

If you ran out of masks, he’d literally just stick some in a bag outside of his front door and would tell you to pick them up because he will not leave his apartment

He’s the reason that the stores have like... no hand sanitizer

You: don’t be shy !! give some !!

Him: I do not see 👁👄👁

Jk no, he’d put little care packages outside of his apartment for you that are full of cleaning supplies cause he wants you to be healthy

If he has anything delivered to his house, I wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a hazmat suit and sprayed that bitch down

He’d definitely call you late at night and the two of you would fall asleep on the call !!

 He’d begrudgingly answer the MSBY zoom calls

Atsumu: Omi Omi~ I’m surprised you haven’t gotten broken up with yet. if I were y/n i would probably drop your ass <3

Him: I hope you die <3 

Okay but once he realizes you’re perfectly healthy, he’ll allow you into his apartment but he forces you to shower before touching him

It’s okay-- you finally get to cuddle your germaphobe bf <3

Okay but he do be kinda horny in quarantine because isn’t everyone so you two seeing each other again was a TRIP

Have fun luvs <3

Kuroo Tetsurou 

Don’t be shy Furudate, tell us where Kuroo is in the final arc <3

Since I have no clue what canon Kuroo is doing, let’s just say he just has a regular job idk 

Since he’s not deemed to be an essential worker, he’s stuck at home with your stupidass <3

Jk- he’s happy to be able to spend time with you 

Definitely spends a lot of his day playing video games with Kenma since Kenma also has a ton of time now (Kenma’s just working from home now and has conference calls every now and then)

I believe that this man would be a decent cook so he’d definitely help or at least convince you to just order some food lmao

You two would spend the first few weeks just watching movies and cuddling or some cute shit idk

Probably horny as fuck so yall would be busy for a bit

You two would have the stupidest conversations in the middle of the day while you two were just staring at the ceiling 

You: if cows ruled the world, would they drink human milk?

Him: omg you’re onto something there

Idk you’d probably be roasting the shit out of each other too

Him: did i ever tell you that you look like a rat baby?

You: perish <3

You’d take turns with who would cook dinner and who would clean it up because there needs to be a system or else youre both not eating or not having an apartment that is tolerable to live in

Okay but like... I think that he’d look at those cooking tik toks and would be like “i’m going to make this bitch”

does it work? sometimes. does it taste good? give or take

Like, some of them SLAP but others just... don’t look anything like the end result that the video showed

he’d definitely try to make you work out with him and sometimes it worked

A lot of the time tho, you’d just laugh at him

You: I’ll just watch you here dw luv

Him: I know you wanna look at my arms wackass 

He’d definitely spend hours upon hours playing video games with Kenma

Like,,, you wouldn’t see him move for hours but every now and then you’d hear him scream LMAO

Honestly it would be pretty fun to be quarantined with this bitch 

idk he’s not gonna burn your house down, not be able to clean shit, and he’d also be a lot of fun to joke around with so I see nothing wrong with this bitch <3

[neoheros]

how would haikyuu boys handle the quarantine? feat. pretty setter squad

sugawara koushi

respects the quarantine a lot

it’d be very hard to get him out of the house especially when it involves other people

has stocked up on literally every kind of canned food

“we don’t need to go to target, we’ve got a house full of food !!”

gets up at about 9 - 10 am

but he likes to sleep early

if you don’t sleep early, he doesn’t mind staying up with you if you ask him to but don’t expect much of him since he’s most likely out like a light after 11

he makes sure you wash your hands every other hour

it’s kinda repetitive but he cares yknow

eventually you’ll get so bored of staring at the same things that you promp him to go out with you

he’ll say no the first five times

and you’re just like 🥺

he’ll eventually agree but on the condition of bringing alcohol wipes and surgical masks

“NO DAICHI WE AREN’T ACCEPTING COMPANY !! ITS THE LAW !!”

kageyama tobio

he’s a baby

take care of him please

tbh if the two of you aren’t living together, you most likely have to be the one to help him stock on food and necessities

but if you do share a house/apartment then he’d go grocery shopping with you every now and then to make sure you don’t run out of stuff

i’m talking you in the shopping cart and him complaining about it being heavy but not letting you get off

once you get back in the car though he makes sure to put sanitizer on both your hands and the moment you get home, he reminds you to wash them

his sleeping habits are kinda out there

most of the time he sleeps early, but there are times when you see him on the couch under a weighted blanket scrolling through tiktok at 3 am

no matter what time he sleeps though, he always get up at either 9 am or 2 pm

no in between

if he wakes up at 2 pm then that’s because he doesn’t want to let go of his grasp on you

is the big spoon all the time

and no you’re not gonna get to squirm out of his embrace, i’m sorry

kenma kozume

i’m just gonna be blunt here

this kid is grateful for the quarantine

of course he’s distasteful for the pandemic and stuff but c’mon he’s a teenage boy with a full ass gaming system and you think this isn’t a life he’s dreamt of?

like kags, you’d most likely have to be the one to make sure he’s stocked up on food and stuff

whenever you both would go grocery shopping together he’d always go for the junk food like sodas and lays chips

knowing this fully well, you get the things needed to actually make a proper meal

y’all know damn well this boy goes to sleep at 6 am and wakes up at 2 pm

it’s how his body clock has adapted and there’ll be times he’ll try to sleep with you at 11 pm but he’s just staring at the ceiling and moving and flinching and at this point even you can’t fall asleep with all the ruckus he’s causing

“K E NM A LEAVE THE BED”

“no, i’m trying to be productive by sleeping early and then i’ll wake up early then we can have a good day together.”

“baby i’m sorry but neither of us will be able to sleep at all if you DON’T GODDAMN LEAVE”

when he’s not gaming or having kuroo yell at him for barely participating in his online classes, he likes to have you in his embrace

most of the time if you’re not up doing daily things, the two of you are in bed just hugging

or you’re in the living room scrolling through tiktok and he’s in the bedroom also scrolling through tiktok

and when you both find a funny video you call to each other and then show it and go back to doing your thing

goals ngl

oikawa tooru

no

if i were to be stuck in the house for a month with this man i would cry

he’s a morning person for fucks sake

he gets up at 8 am and goes to bed before 11 pm and yes he will drag your ass in and out of bed so you guys can start and end the day together

it’s so sweet i’m not gonna lie but holy fuck my dude

he goes on morning walks and runs and sometimes he’ll ask you to come with him and tells you you’re missing out if you say no

but most of the time he’ll let you sleep in when he’s gone and you wake up to either your favorite starbucks drink or a protein shake he made you

oikawa tooru = healthy quarantine lifestyle

the two of you have cabinets and pantries full of food, both healthy and absolute junk

he tries his best to steer away from that stuff though but sometimes he doesn’t mind eating through them when you two are on the couch and binging old nickelodeon shows

with his bad knee, you also take into consideration how important it is to be exercising and keeping his regimen up

so even if you cry blood from running with him too much, you never mind coming with him since it’s for him to get better

he’s like one of those white moms who’s always out for a walk and always cleaning the house

whenever the two of you would go out for a quick raid in target or walmart, he always has to hold your hand

because “who knows what’s out there now that the world is ending, babe? gotta keep you safe.”

bro i love him so much i miss his stupid face oikawa i didn’t mean it come back home baby

akaashi keiji

when i tell you this man deserves an award for being the best boyfriend on earth

ugh he’s just so ? perfect

quarantine life with akaashi !!! is so !! romantic and domestic and beautiful

he insists on going grocery shopping alone, keys in his hand, him wearing a jacket over his hoodie, jeans and sneakers with a cross chain

this man is a sight for sore eyes

but even if he does insist on going alone so you can just sit back and not get exposed to the corona

you always tell him you like it when you’re with him especially when you do domestic stuff like shopping together and driving together at night with the windows down

when you’re shopping together, he’s the one who pushes the cart with his right hand and his left hand is intertwined with yours

you go pick out the stuff you like to buy and he tells you whether or not to put it back because let’s be honest he’s 90% of your wise decision making

he’s a light sleeper who has a good bed time

but when he wakes up at 2 am to see you leaning against the bed frame with the comforter over your head watching tiktoks

he doesn’t mind propping himself up next to you as he leans his head on your shoulder and watches what’s on your fyp

(he falls asleep there 97.9% of the time)

you love him

[miss-spooky-eyes]

intersection (a belated OC Kiss Week fic) part II

In which the adventures of Teo and Dev, teenage dumbasses, continue. Part I here. 

Author Notes/What to Know:

This is a fic about the (near) kisses of my IA/Cipher Nine, Devinahl, and @sunsetofdoom's Smuggler Teo. I encourage absolutely anybody & everybody to read what she's written about Teo, which you can find the most important & glorious pieces of here, here and here.

'Karia Madeesh' is the alias used by the future Cipher Nine during her adolescence as a schoolgirl spy tasked with befriending the children of important Republic figures. I think that's all you need to know, but Dev's backstory fic Riddle goes into much more detail.

Warnings: Um ... nudity? Mentions of vomiting? Extreme teenage dumbness?

Part Two

New Baxeid, 3651 BBY/2 ATC

Teonine couldn’t believe he’d been stupid enough to end up here.

His feet pounded the ferracrete as he sprinted up the street, trying to keep to the shadows nearer the buildings and storefronts without tripping over the crates of recyclables left out to be picked up by New Baxeid municipal sanitation in the morning. He could hear shouts and more running feet behind him, but he didn’t dare turn and look back.

With the clarity that came to those who were about to be hunted down and arrested, if they didn’t die of twin heart attacks first, he focused on Karia’s back, the studs on her jacket flashing prismatically every time she passed through the pool of light under a streetlamp. In the almost two full terms since they’d met, her hair had gone from blood-orange to silver to magenta, and she’d started dressing nouveau-bashcore, but some things hadn’t changed at all; she still called him ‘little fish’, she was still determined to be his friend and Teonine still had no idea why.

He’d let her act like she was his friend, since it seemed so important to her. It wasn’t all bad; she might have a complex about her military parents, but when she wasn’t complaining about them and not-so-subtly expecting Teonine to reciprocate with his own tales of woe (as if he even knew where Colonel Lunulata was stationed these days), she was actually pretty good company. Which to Teonine meant that she could hold her booze, and was almost as good at being silent as he was.

Teonine liked her best like that, after lights out when she would sneak into his room and they would sit side by side on his windowsill, not touching except to pass the bottle back and forth.

That had been his plan for tonight: Drinking himself to sleep in silence with Karia beside him. Instead -

Teonine skidded round a corner so fast he almost collided with a bollard, the soles of his shoes squealing loudly on the ferracrete. A pair of flashlight beams ignited down the street ahead of them, and Karia swerved and yelled, ‘This way!’

Following her through the covered arcade to their right, sprinting past shopfronts shuttered for the night and chairs and tables piled outside closed cafes, Teonine tried to figure out what the fuck he’d been thinking. She’d caught him off guard, that was it, just when he thought he could trust her. All her seemingly desultory chatter, all her teasing and subtle prodding and little jibes about aquarium fish while they drank their way through his latest batch. Then, at the exact moment when he was at his warmest and weakest, she had produced the security pass nobody except senior teachers were supposed to have and said, So I heard there’s this party …

They burst out of the arcade into an intersection, one of the settlement’s busiest by day and fairly crowded on this particular night as well, because station security were already struggling with one knot of party-goers as another tore through and on down the street, patrol in hot pursuit.

Teonine and Karia slalomed frantically between the bodies and ducked into a side street, too busy trying to put distance between them and the chaos behind them to register its familiarity until they burst out into a sudden wide open space.

‘Oh, skrag,’ Karia panted.

They’d come out into the main square in the commercial district of New Baxeid. To their right, the governor’s mansion, which doubled as the courthouse and main municipal seat of business, squatted unimpressively along one entire side of the square; ahead of them, the fountain with its deep pool churned within its well lined with faux-marble. And the square itself, which would during daylight hours have been busy with people buying kaf from the kiosks or simply cutting across it, stretched away empty and shadowed to their left.

They had to keep going if they had any hope of getting back to the atmo-speeder they’d stolen from the school (‘borrowed, little fish, borrowed’), but there were flashlights across the square, and voices behind them, and Karia grabbed his arm and yanked him into the shadow of a nearby kiosk.

Teonine crouched down beside her; the kiosk was close enough to the building behind them that the pool of shadow was deep, but if the patrol behind them came right up the street … ‘Did they see us?’ he breathed.

Karia had her eyes narrowed, listening intently. ‘I don’t think so. But -’ She broke off, listening, then swore again. ‘It sounds like they’re going to patrol that street. We can’t go back that way.’

‘Well, we can’t go that way,’ Teonine hissed, nodding towards the wide street that led off the opposite side of the square. ‘So what the fuck are we going to do?’

Karia shrugged. ‘Got me.’ She caught his eye, and smiled wickedly. ‘Good party, though.’

Teonine wasn’t about to rise to that; they had been there for precisely twenty minutes, nineteen of which he had spent awkwardly standing around while Karia flirted with some guy who looked like a spice dealer. And almost certainly was a spice dealer, if the fact that the party had been heavily raided by station security was anything to go by. ‘I’m serious, what are we going to do?’

‘We could make out.’

‘What?’

‘They’re going to catch us, and we can at least have some fun until they do, since we’ll probably be sent to different schools after this.’

‘Will you be serious?’ Teonine hissed.

‘I am. We can’t go back the way we came, and if we try to go forward, we’ll be caught.’ She shrugged. ‘We’re boxed in, little fish. We lose.’

Teonine stared at her, hearts thudding with a new and entirely different kind of panic. ‘What happened to “I get my friends in trouble, but I always get them out of it”?’

In the dim glow from the streetlights, he thought she looked guilty for a second, but then her face hardened. ‘Yeah, well, you hate this school anyway, I’m getting you out of it. Problem solved.’

Teonine couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He hadn’t even wanted to sneak out of school tonight, and now she was telling him that she didn’t have a plan? That he was, essentially, on his own?

She glanced round the edge of the kiosk, then turned towards him. ‘Look, I didn’t want this to happen, OK? It won’t be that bad. You can blame it all on me and they probably won’t even expel you.’

Teonine gave a hollow laugh, his hands gripping on to the kiosk counter so tightly he thought his knuckles might snap.

‘So your mom finds out that you’re not always her good little boy.’ There was exasperation in Karia’s tone. ‘It’s not the end of the world.’

No, Teonine thought distantly. It was much, much worse than that.

And it could not happen.

The thought was like a bolt of white-hot adrenaline forking down his spine. It could not happen. It had to not happen. That was all there was to it.

Suddenly, he felt suffused with a new and icy clarity. ‘That patrol behind us. How far down the street are they?’

Karia eyed him curiously, then cautiously craned her neck to peer back behind them. ‘Um - forty feet, maybe?’

Teonine nodded, while his mind threw up parabolas, lines of sight, angles. ‘OK.’ He crawled to the other end of the kiosk, then reached back to hook an arm around Karia’s shoulders, urging her forward so that she was crouched at his side. ‘Can you tell how many patrols are over there?’

‘Teonine, what the fuck -’

‘Just listen,’ he cut her off. ‘And tell me. Please.’

She breathed a huffy little sigh, but he watched her eyes narrow, and after perhaps thirty seconds, she shook her head and said: ‘It’s definitely two patrols. But I can’t hear what they’re saying.’

‘That’s all I needed to know.’

Teonine peered around the edge of the kiosk, watching the bobbing beams of the flashlights carried by the security patrol, while in his mind's eye the map of New Baxeid's commercial heart unrolled. He knew these streets, he'd spent enough bored hours wandering them. The wide street that led off the square curved to the left after fifty feet or so, but Teonine had no intention of trying to go that way.

He watched as the patrol trudged back from the corner, down the street and back into the square; two members of the station’s security force, each carrying a flashlight, and it was easy to tell from their body language that nobody trying to escape the raid on the party had come this way yet. Teonine counted the seconds as the security patrol made their way from the corner, into the square and over to the fountain.

They paused for a second, idly playing the beams of their flashlights around, then turned and began making their way back up the street. Teonine grabbed Karia’s hand again. ‘Get ready,’ he hissed.

‘What are you doing?’ she whispered back.

‘Getting us out of this.’ As the patrol made it perhaps halfway up the street, Teonine broke cover, pulling Karia with him, running in a wide curve to make sure to stay out of sight of the guards stationed in the street behind them.

As the guards reached the corner, Teonine and Karia made it to the opposite side of the fountain. He pulled her down into the shadow of the waist-high lip of the basin, both of them crouching low enough to be hidden.

It wasn’t really a fountain, more a sort of hydraulic relic of the only attempt New Baxeid had ever made to pretend it was more than an administration centre for the mines scattered throughout the system. An over-ambitious governor had the regrettable idea of turning the settlement’s water supply into something decorative as well as utilitarian, and had designed the fountain himself; a basin only twenty feet square but a good thirty feet deep, to generate the requisite water pressure for the jets that leapt into the air. At least that was the plan; these days the jets were mainly broken, and the fountain was just an odd, slightly underwhelming water feature.

During the day, people sat or leaned on the wide faux-marble lip to drink their kaf or eat lunch; Teonine had spent more than a few hours there himself, blankly staring into the churning, constantly recycled water. It was about to pay off.

Slowly, he wriggled his feet out of his shoes, trying to conceal his movements so that Karia didn’t notice what he was doing; he was fairly sure she wasn’t going to like this plan, and he didn’t want to have to deal with any objections until it was a done deal. He counted off each second in his head, visualising the position of the patrol; now they would be entering the square - now they would be coming up to the fountain - they’d take a few seconds to sweep their flashlights around the square - now they would be turning back up the street -

His heart hammering, Teonine counted down to zero, then stood up, pulling Karia with him. A hasty glance told him that the patrol were indeed halfway back to the corner, but there was no more time to look; yanking off his sweatshirt and dropping it on the ground, he turned to Karia. ‘Take a deep breath.’

He saw her eyes flick to the water, then slam back to him as she inhaled sharply, mouth opening -  

There was no time. Teonine wrapped one arm around her waist, planted the other hand on the back of her head, clamped his mouth to hers and rolled backwards into the water.

With his senses heightened by adrenaline, the cold, clean shock of the water was like a surge of electricity through his veins. It was always a sensation he struggled to put into words, that moment when he felt his gills open and the burden of uprightness slip from his shoulders as easily as discarding a robe. With Karia held to him, there was no way they hadn’t made a splash as they entered the water and the patrol would be coming to look, but that was OK, he had a plan for that …

Teonine dived, kicking to propel them down towards the bottom of the basin. He’d expected this to be hard, maybe impossible, and nothing but desperation would have compelled him to try it. But even without being able to use his arms for anything other than keeping Karia held against him, it felt easy, even effortless, to let the circuit of the water propel them around the basin while he corkscrewed from one layer of the current to another.

After her first, reflexive struggle, Karia had stopped fighting; he felt her fingers digging into his shoulders as she let him take them deeper. As long as the water kept moving against his gills, the oxygen his well-adapted body took in would be enough for both of them, but not much more than enough; if she didn’t fight him, that would give them more time. He hoped.

He had to fight against the current that wanted to force them upwards as they neared the bottom of the basin, and the reason was obvious; the input pipe, half a metre across. Still, even where the bulk of the water was moving one way, there was water going the other, and Teonine barely had to try to find the path of least resistance. Two powerful kicks brought him to within reach of the mouth of the pipe; he let go of Karia’s waist, grasped the pipe with one hand and with a single sinuous heave managed to propel both of them inside just as flashlight beams dimly pierced the surface of the water above.

There was about a metre and a half of pipe before the fan that helped to force the water into the basin, and Teonine used his legs and one hand to wedge them in, keeping them still while the water pummeled them mercilessly. He craned his neck to see back out of the pipe. The flashlights were sweeping and spiralling through the water as the patrol searched for the source of the splash they would have heard, but there was no way they could see the two teenagers inside the mouth of the pipe, and confronted with an apparently empty basin, they would have to conclude that they’d made a mistake. Of course, Teonine’s sweatshirt and sneakers and Karia’s abandoned shoes would give the game away, but the patrol weren’t likely to spot them on the other side of the fountain. At least, not until Teonine and Karia were long gone.

He could feel Karia starting to make little convulsive movements against his chest as her body reacted to the slow depletion of oxygen, but Teonine held position, watching as the flashlight beams made one last circle through the basin before they blinked off.

He waited a little longer just in case the patrol decided to turn back, then relaxed his limbs and let the pressure propel them out of the mouth of the pipe. This time, he worked his way up, sliding elegantly between layers of the current as the circling water again carried them almost the whole way round the basin - right towards the output pipe near the surface of the water.

Ignoring Karia’s increasingly frantic struggles, Teonine jacknifed to plant both feet on the side of the basin, then pushed off, his body aimed unerringly at the mouth of the pipe.

They shot like an arrow through the pipe and into inky darkness. Even for Teo, there was no light to see with, but he could sense the walls around them constraining the water. New Baxeid’s underground reservoir.

He didn’t know whether Karia knew that there was no surface to come up to any more or whether she was just blindly panicking, but she was properly struggling now, kicking and writhing against him, her head trying to turn and break the seal of their mouths, fingers clawing at his shoulders, his face. But Teonine knew that if he let go of her now, she would drown, and he was surprised to find that he could hold her with no difficulty at all.

He wished he could tell her that he knew what he was doing, that they were almost through, but instead he concentrated on knifing through the dark water. He was shamefully conscious of a feeling of exhilaration, too, something that went deeper than just the basic biological thrill of being in the water; he’d always believed he was a weak swimmer, but it had been almost … easy. He kicked harder to send them through the water even faster, and was astounded to find that he could.

Karia had gone limp by the time Teonine saw the dim glow ahead, and he put on one last burst of speed, spiralling through another pipe with ease. The ceiling opened up above them, and he kicked up to the surface, finally releasing his iron grip on Karia’s head to let her take a gasp of air.

She sucked in an immense, relieved breath, choked and began to cough and splutter. Teonine steered her gently towards the metal ladder, not unlike the ones that the other kids used in the pool at school. In fact, apart from being underground, this chamber was not unlike a swimming pool, with metal walkways surrounding a decent-sized, uncovered tank. There were instruments mounted on the wall, and another ladder leading up to a heavy hatch in the ceiling.

He boosted the shaking, coughing Karia up the ladder until she collapsed face-first on the walkway, then climbed up himself. Teonine bent to check on Karia, but she shoved him away violently, and he stepped back to give her her space.

He couldn’t believe it. They’d done it. They’d got away. He’d done it.

‘You s-s-s-son of a b-b-b-bitch.’ Karia had finally stopped spitting up water, and she was levering herself up to her hands and knees, shaking violently. ‘You ab-ab-absolut-t-t-te f-f-f-fucking b-b-b-bastard. I’m g-g-going to k-k-kill you.’

Teonine instinctively opened his mouth to apologise and found himself saying instead: ‘You’re welcome.’

Karia pushed wet hair out of her eyes as she sat back on her haunches. ‘W-what did you s-s-say to me?’

‘I said you’re welcome.’ An unfamiliar warmth was spreading through Teonine’s veins. ‘You got us into trouble, I got us out of it.’

‘You n-nearly drowned me!’

‘You weren’t going to drown. You weren’t even close to drowning. Your body just made you think you were.’

She ignored him, pushing herself shakily to her feet; as Teonine reached forward to help her, she waved him off. ‘Don’t touch me! You nearly drowned me! And I’m not going to die on this miserable fucking rock for some s-s-’ She bit the word off, turned it into a gasp for breath, then a spluttering cough. ‘For some stupid kid.’

When she’d first got out of the water, she’d been shaking with rage, hissing and spitting like a furious cat dunked in a barrel. Now all of a sudden, she looked small, and frightened.

‘I didn’t mean to scare you,’ he muttered, feeling a familiar reversion to guilt, but before he got through the sentence she had flared up again.

‘Oh, you didn’t? Well, that makes everything OK, doesn’t it? You drag me into the water, you nearly get us stuck in a pipe … Did you even know where that output pipe led? Did you even know there was somewhere with air down here?’

‘Yes,’ Teonine said. ‘I did. It’s the monitoring pool for the New Baxeid underground reservoir. We came on a field trip here two years ago.’

She glared at him, momentarily stymied, but made a quick recovery. ‘And what if they’d changed the layout in the past two years? Put in a gate or a filter? Did you even think about that?’

‘Did you even think about how we’d get back to school if something went wrong at your party?’ Teonine shot back. ‘Or did you just decide that since you didn’t care about getting kicked out, it was fine to ruin my life, as well?’

She blinked, looking taken aback; not by the accusation itself, but by the fact that it was Teonine who was the one levelling it.

Teonine felt the same way. After all, the voices of fifteen years of habit were telling him urgently that he should be asking for forgiveness, that he must be in the wrong for her to be angry with him. But louder than it all was the heady sensation pumping through his veins, telling him that he’d just done something he didn’t need to apologise for. Something daring. Something creative. Something pretty fucking cool.

‘And how are we supposed to get out of here?’ Karia demanded, making a recovery from her state of surprise at Teonine’s unaccustomed display of defiance. She waved a hand at the hatch in the ceiling. ‘What are we going to do, wait for the next time someone comes to monitor the chemical levels?’

‘Actually, the hatch is designated one of the vital entry points for the whole of New Baxeid in case of emergency,’ Teonine pointed out mildly. ‘Which means that the security pass you’re carrying should open it.’

She glared at him, fuming. ‘Fine.’ She strode over to the foot of the ladder. ‘But after you and I get back to school, we’re done. If you ever touch me again, I’ll kill you, Teonine Lunulata. Do you understand me?’

‘Yes.’

If anything, his mild agreement seemed to infuriate her more. ‘Is that it? Is that all you have to say to me? You don’t want to say anything else?’

Teonine considered the question. He knew what she wanted; he could see how little it would take to defuse the situation.

It was just that, for perhaps the first time in his life, he didn’t feel like apologising.

‘Not bad for a little fish?’ he suggested.

The look she gave him at that removed any doubt about whether or not he’d just lost his only sort-of friend, and that was bad. But as he climbed up the ladder behind her, Teonine had the distinct sense that he’d gained something much more important.

Nar Shaddaa, 3643 BBY/10 ATC

Club Ufora on a Saturday night was not where Teo wanted to be.

To be fair, he didn’t much want to be anywhere right now except Open Ocean, newly re-christened, newly his, running his hands over her controls and revelling in ownership. But off-planet jobs like the ones he craved needed crews, and they certainly needed fuel, and for that he needed credits.

It wasn’t like Teo didn’t have some credits, of course, more than enough to fuel Open Ocean in a pinch. But the thought of digging into his emergency fund made him feel like his skin was too tight. So did the thought of risking more than a little delicate fleecing at the sabacc tables, especially on Nar Shaddaa, where getting through a hand without vibroknives being pulled was a rarity even when nobody was cheating.

Teo had only just got his ship all to himself. He wasn’t going to put himself in a position to have her yanked out from under him.

So here he was, doing the kind of planet-bound petty crime he really wanted to leave behind. If it had been anyone other than Tommie who had proposed the job, Teo would have nixed it at the outset, but Tommie was cautious and smart and Teo had gone over all her data-gathering thoroughly.

All of that didn’t mean that he liked Club Ufora. It was just far enough from the Promenade that crews on leave could kid themselves they were seeing the ‘real’ Nar Shaddaa, but it was a tourist trap for all that, all coloured lights and slot machines that made happy noises. Even the vice was calculated to be inoffensive; the female dancers were little and buxom, the males muscle-bound and gleaming, and all of them covered in sequins and sparkles. It was bachelor-party sexuality and excess, nicely calibrated to empty the pockets of the spacers enjoying their night of R&R and send them back to their ships stinking of booze, covered in glitter and happily convinced they’d participated in something really wild.

Teo found it all unspeakably depressing.

He’d arrived at Ufora about ninety minutes ago, spent some time playing the slots, chatted up a couple of ‘Pub medics on leave from their ship at the bar, watched the dancers, all of it designed to make him appear like any other low-level Nar Shaddaa grifter on the hunt for a mark (an impression which would be subtly reinforced by his suit, which was flashily expensive enough to assert wealth, but poorly-tailored enough to remove any intimation of class). Now he was ready to get on with the job.

Teo strolled across the casino floor, weaving in between knots of patrons, towards the bank of elevators, each flanked by a pair of hulking bouncers. He nodded at the nearest, a human with tattoos crawling over his shaved scalp who was stuffed into the regulation bad suit, and held up a small triangular chit between two fingers.

The human grunted, taking the chit and slotting it into the top of his handheld scanner with the air of one who’d done this fifty times tonight already. The scanner lit up as the infrared beam ran over the surface of the chit, logging the ident of the dancer who’d given it to him (in theory, anyway; Teo had actually purloined it from a Rattataki spacer who was way too drunk to notice), then beeped twice, its light turning green. The bouncer pressed the scanner to the elevator’s control panel; there was another beep, and the doors pulled smoothly open. The bouncer stepped aside to allow Teo to enter. ‘Enjoy, sir.’

Teo winked and flipped another chit, credits this time, to the man as he stepped into the elevator.

The doors closed, and the elevator began to ascend without Teo having to press any buttons; it would deliver him directly to the suite where the dancer who he’d paid for a private performance would be waiting, a pretty common and relatively efficient system used in clubs and casinos across the galaxy to control patrons’ access to the dancers (and make sure that the dancers weren’t entertaining customers without the owners getting their cut, of course).

Teo counted off ten seconds, then squeezed the small cylinder in his pocket.

Before the elevator had fully shuddered to a halt, he was moving, reaching up to the security cam above his head even as it clicked and whirred in response to the pulse. It was a make and model he’d dealt with plenty of times before, and he knew just where to apply pressure to pop the casing. Swiftly, he disconnected the input and slid the micro-card Tommie had given him into the memory slot before reconnecting the input and holding down the necessary buttons to trigger a hard reset. Now when the cam turned back on, it would run the footage Tommie had mocked up of Teo exiting the elevator on his assigned floor and the empty elevator returning.

Teo wasted no time in moving to the control panel; the display, scrambled by the pulse, showed a garbled mixture of aurebesh characters and Huttese glyphs. For any graduate of Pantomathia (although technically, of course, Teo had not graduated), it was the work of moments to slave the elevator controls to the pocket datapad he palmed. Nor was it difficult to reinitialise the controls in a different mode. Now, instead of only going between the main casino floor and the entertainment suites, the elevator could be commanded to access any of Club Ufora’s levels.

Like, for example, the topmost levels out of bounds to anybody except the club’s owners and their guests.

Teo’s destination wasn’t the penthouse where the owner, a Twi’lek named Jep’temok, lived with his personal slaves, but the level two floors down on which Jep’temok’s eldest son and majordomo had his office and suites. Uat’jamok was off-planet right now, and had been for three months - some said he was in Hutt space trying to swing some kind of deal, although Teo had also heard a rumour he’d been snatched by the Imps. Wherever he was, he’d left behind a safe with a few hundred million credits his closest associates could access in a crisis. Small change for an aspiring Nar Shaddaa crimelord; precious, precious fuel for a starship captain. They were, essentially, robbing Uat’jamok’s petty cash box.

Teo didn’t like how many times he was having to use the word petty in relation to this particular job.

He told himself again that it was a stepping-stone to better and less planet-bound things, and set about the tricky part.

This was the bit that neither Teo’s formal nor informal educations had prepared him for. But Tommie had walked him through it several times, and then Teo had practiced it several hundred more times. The programme was hidden on his datapad under a skin mocked up to look like an innocuous gambling game. Teo opened it, input the code commands he’d memorised, then re-initialised the elevator and held his breath.

The elevator hummed smoothly into motion again; it would take eleven point three seconds to reach Uat’jamok’s floor, and Tommie’s programme should have run its course in no more than nine point nine. All Teo had to do was count down the seconds and then -

Ding.

Teo’s thumb stabbed down on the datapad.

It worked just like it was supposed to. The overload cascade that Tommie had set up took just milliseconds to kick in; the datapad crackled and jolted in his hand, sparks flew from the elevator’s control panel, and the lights snapped off, plunging the elevator into darkness.

Not a problem for a Nautolan, of course, and now every light, every terminal, every security system that wasn’t on its own separate circuit would be out on Uat’jamok’s floor. And that wasn’t even the clever part.

Now all Teo had to do was walk on to Uat’jamok’s floor, slice the safe in the reception room and be back in the elevator within the four-minute window that Tommie’s clever little programme had bought him - four minutes in which Club Ufora’s security mainframe, not to mention the additional monitoring programmes that Jep’temok had as a matter of course installed to spy on his son, would be blind to what happened up here.

The elevator doors had just begun to part when Teo had triggered the cascade. He slid his fingertips into the gap, pulled the doors apart in one fluid motion, and strolled out into the darkened, empty room, adjusting his tie.

At least, that’s what was supposed to happen.

What actually happened was that Teo confidently pulled the doors apart to reveal a fully-lit reception room and two people pointing blasters directly at his chest.

‘Hands up,’ said one of them, a stocky middle-aged woman with a crewcut and a livid red scar running down the side of her neck and disappearing beneath the collar of her jacket.

Teo obeyed slowly, the pleasant, slightly giddy hum of adrenaline in his veins replaced in an instant with frozen shock.

‘Out,’ said the other, a skinny, nondescript-looking man with a cheap-looking phobium earring in the shape of a Togruta-style stylised fang dangling from his right ear.

Teo’s higher brain was still offline, but his primitive survival centers were working just fine, and they dropped a simple message into his consciousness: If he stepped out of this elevator, he would die.

‘Wrong floor?’ he suggested weakly.

They ignored his attempt to engage them, not even bothering to snort away the feeble excuse. Instead, the man said again: ‘Out.’

Teo considered his options, which didn’t take long. Even if he could get a hand to the elevator controls before the pair unloaded blaster bolts into his chest, he’d shorted out the power in the thing and it would take long, agonising seconds for it to re-initialise. He wasn’t carrying a weapon, because the effort it would have taken to get round Club Ufora’s body-scanners wouldn’t have been worth it, not when the kind of trouble he could potentially get into if the job went wrong was anything that one blaster was going to get him out of. Even the little datapad had gone into his pocket once its part had been played, besides which it was now a flimsy, useless square of plastic and dead circuits; he couldn’t even use it to challenge one of them to a game of online pazaak.

Just as well, because this wasn’t his lucky night.

‘Last warning,’ the man said, eyes narrowing to cold slits.

Teo stepped out of the elevator.

Whatever was going on up here, it wasn’t the deserted floor it was supposed to be. Not only were there two people pointing blasters at him, he was sure there were more up here; he saw lights blinking on access panels, signals that the rooms which opened off the reception room were occupied.

And people weren’t the only thing where there should be none. Teo could see security cams at the edge of his vision, vibrating in that almost imperceptible way that said they were on and scanning - and although he didn’t dare turn his head for a proper look, these didn’t appear to be the same cheap functional models that surveilled the elevators, or the main casino floors. The power and environmental and security systems that all Tommie’s research had said were operating on this floor should have been shorted out by the overload he’d triggered.

The only explanation was that someone had taken over this particular floor and equipped it with its own set of self-contained systems, independent of the rest of the club. A black site, squatting quietly in the midst of one of Nar Shaddaa’s busiest, tackiest casinos.

And whoever they were, they weren’t gangsters. Oh, they were dressed like the euphemistically-termed ‘private security’ that were five for a credit on the Smugglers’ Moon. But their stances weren’t just textbook, they were identical. So were their gleaming weapons, and so were their cold, blank expressions.

Tommie hadn’t double-crossed him, and she hadn’t slipped up. She’d just sent Teo walking into something way, way above either of their pay grades.

The only reason Teo could think of that they hadn’t already shot him was that they wanted to know what the fuck he was doing there.

Teo could think of ten different stories just off the top of his head, but not one of them was going to save him, because if he’d come to this floor knowing that they were there then he was a threat and they were going to kill him. And if he’d done it without knowing they were there, he’d now found out, which meant he was a threat, which meant they were going to kill him.

He was going to be executed in a Nar Shaddaa club he wouldn’t be seen dead in. Tommie wasn’t going to know what had happened, only that he went in and didn’t come out. Nobody was ever going to know what happened to him, and Open Ocean would sit rusting in her hangar until the docking fees ran out and some spaceport bureaucrat reclaimed her and sold her at auction and Teo was never going to get the chance to stock her and crew her and fly her like she deserved.

This was what he got for thinking he was clever, being stupid enough to believe that he knew what he was doing, strutting through Nar Shaddaa casinos like he belonged, like he wasn’t alone and helpless and going to die.

Then a door towards the back of the reception area opened and a woman in a black dress walked through it. She was looking down at a datapad in her hands as she crossed the floor towards a door on the other side, but Teo saw her lift her eyes to take an instinctive survey of her surroundings. As she did, the light struck one of her implants and the shape struck a familiar chord deep in Teo’s memory.

He still might not have recognised her, but with the heightened awareness of those very much about to die, he registered the sudden flare of shock in her eyes as they passed over him and he knew he was looking at Karia Madeesh.

Teo might have cried out to her if she’d kept walking, but shock kept his tongue tied and then he saw her smoothly alter her course to head towards the little group by the elevator.

She was older, of course, and a little taller, and she was filling out the clingy dress she wore in a way that had nothing to do with the skinny teenager he remembered; her hair was ashen-blonde and rippled glossily past her shoulders and down her back; her makeup was the finest in Nar Shaddaa chic, all scarlet lips and iridescent colour on cheekbones and eyelids; and after that first flicker of recognition her face wore the same studied blankness as the two currently training their blasters on Teo. But all the same, it was her. Karia.

Teo half-opened his mouth, caught between conflicting impulses - should he call to her to help him? Warn her to keep away? - but as she walked towards them he saw her lift her hand to sweep a wave of pale hair back over her shoulder and, as her chin tilted, the tiniest, tiniest shake of her head, barely more than a tremble, but aimed at him.

He closed his mouth again as she stopped a few paces behind the two - guards? - and said, ‘Situation?’

Fuck, even her voice was different.

The two with their blasters trained on Teo were too well-trained to look away, but Teo saw both their heads lift slightly. ‘Contained,’ the woman responded.

Karia’s eyes flicked over Teo, cool, assessing, this time without the faintest hint of recognition. ‘Negligible,’ she said dismissively.

‘Still assessing,’ the short-haired woman disagreed, and this time Teo almost heard the bitten-off ‘sir’ at the end of the sentence.

Karia’s eyes narrowed, just a little, and Teo could see the girl who’d once pointed her finger at him and picked him out of a crowd as she said: ‘A moment, please.’

The short-haired woman glanced at her partner, then carefully retreated a pace or two as he shifted his position to cover Teo alone. The woman lowered her blaster, but kept it held ready in front of her, weight on her back foot and ready to spring, as she inclined her head to listen to Karia murmuring in her ear.

Teo couldn’t make out what Karia was saying, but the short-haired woman clearly disagreed with it; she was shaking her head, arguing back. Karia’s response was short and, despite the low tone in which she was speaking, had the unmistakable ring of finality to it.

The short-haired woman frowned, but did not reply.

Then for the second time in his life, Teo found himself rooted to the spot while Karia Madesh approached him with a calculating look in her eyes and a lipstick in her hand. Brushing aside the man with the earring and his still-levelled blaster, she stepped right up to Teo, looked him in the eye and began to apply a fresh coat of scarlet on her already-reddened lips.

Then she snapped the lipstick closed again, replaced it in whatever concealed pocket she’d removed it from, reached up to take Teo’s face in her hands in a no-nonsense fashion, tugged his head down and kissed him.

As methods of execution went, it had a lot to recommend it.

As kisses went, it had a certain cold-blooded brutality to it, but it got the job done. Teo went from being too startled to respond to kissing her back before he’d even begun to process what was happening. Her thumbs were stroking teasingly against his cheeks, her tongue was slipping into his mouth; the soft sensuality of it, with his hands still raised above his head as if bound and the blasters trained on him, was making his head swim with the rush of sensation. He was showing Karia Madeesh that he’d come a long way since that airlock.

Except …

Except he was also going to faint again.

Teo opened his eyes as Karia pulled away from him, or maybe he pulled away from her, because all at once the room was spinning alarmingly. He inhaled sharply, but all he could taste was the sudden thickness of her perfume. This couldn’t be happening to him again, he thought dizzily, but his heartbeat was throbbing in his temples like it used to when he was a scrawny teenager who never swam, and Karia was watching him with a look that meant trouble, and they had to get back to school or else they were going to get sucked out into space, and if the room kept tilting back like that he was going to fall off, and then -

*

‘Teo! Teo!’

‘Sorry,’ Teo mumbled. His mouth was full of dirt. ‘I’m up.’

‘Teo, come on! Wake up, man, come on!’

‘I’m up,’ Teo repeated louder. He opened his eyes, and discovered that the reason his mouth felt like it was full of dirt was because he was lying face down on an extremely dirty pavement.

His head felt like it was three times its usual size, there was something poking into his belly and someone kept prodding him with something sharp.

‘It hurts,’ he said, not sure whether he was talking about his head or his side.

There was another strained giggle that seemed very familiar. ‘Yeah, well, it’s going to hurt worse in a minute if you don’t get the fuck up.’

Teo pushed himself up on one elbow, squinting through the sickening lurch inside his skull as he moved to see - ‘Tommie?’

‘Yeah, it’s me, whatever. What the fuck happened, Teo?’

Teo scrubbed one hand across his eyes and looked around him. He was lying, or now half-sitting, in what looked like - and definitely smelled like - one of Nar Shaddaa’s patented dark alleyways, in the shadow of an immense dumpster. Big as it was, it still couldn’t contain the garbage that was spilling out of it and on to the ground - garbage that contained a lot of edible material, or material that had once been edible, at any rate. The lights from the street turned the alley merely shadowy, rather than pitch-black, and the flashing neon signs on the building opposite the mouth of the alleyway were reflected on the viscous surface of the … something … pooling on the floor, and faintly on the skin of the exposed arms of Tommie, who was crouching by his side, clutching a jacket and looking considerably more skittish than normal.

‘Karia,’ he mumbled.

‘What? What did you say?’ Tommie’s voice was verging on the hysterical.

Teo pushed himself up further, and made another unwelcome discovery: He was completely naked. ‘Nothing. I mean -’ He clutched one hand to his head as it throbbed again. ‘What happened?’

‘You’re asking me?’ Tommie’s tattoos were standing out vividly in the darkness, always a sign that she was on the verge of panic. ‘I was monitoring the cams remotely like we said, I saw you go into the elevator, picked up the power surge, everything on schedule - then you didn’t come out. I waited and I waited and then the next thing I know, you’re spamming my comm with calls but whenever I try to answer, nothing. So I tracked the signal and here you are, butt-naked in an alleyway like some rube who got Narsha Necked.’

‘I called you?’ Teo’s hand dropped to the thing that had been prodding into his belly. His commlink, the one he’d had in his pocket in Club Ufora. The tiny light was blinking on and off, over and over.

‘She set it to signal my last contact,’ he said slowly.

‘She? She who? Teo, what the fuck happened in there?’

Teo tried to get his thoughts up to speed. Karia - or whoever she was - she’d kissed him with a knockout drug on her lips, spread over a seal; Narsha Necking, they called it here, where hapless johns drugged, robbed and stripped naked by the prostitutes they’d thought they were picking up were a common sight in the alleys. Those people - whoever they were - had wanted to shoot him; they could have done it, too, because dead bodies were even more common in Nar Shaddaa’s alleyways than unconscious ones. But Karia had knocked him out instead, then made sure someone found him.

He wondered how fast she’d had to talk to get them to agree to leave him alive, to trust the knockout drug to sufficiently scramble his memories of the moments before he’d passed out. What she’d had to do to talk those two killers round.

Because they had been killers. Highly-trained, and therefore highly-paid, killers.

Killers operating a black site which would have taken a stack of credits the size of a senator’s bribe to set up.

And Karia was with them? No, he thought, remembering the way that she’d overruled the short-haired woman. Karia was in charge of them.

‘Teo? Hey? Hello?’ Tommie waved a hand in front of Teo’s face. ‘Are you with me? Care to start filling me in any time soon?’

Teo blinked. The disturbing train of thought he’d been following had left him with one thing: A sense of urgency much more pressing than his headache. He refocused on Tommie, grabbed for her arm to support him as he struggled to get to his feet. ‘Things went bad. We gotta go.’

‘Well, I didn’t think they went to plan,’ Tommie said with another one of her nervous giggles, trying to help haul Teo upright. ‘What happened?’

‘It was - I can’t explain.’ They hadn’t been gangsters, that was for sure, which only really left some galactic-level corporation like Czerka … or military intelligence. And the club was frequented by Republic spacers. ‘Something bad’s going on at Club Ufora. Something really bad. I walked right into it.’

‘And you walked out?’

‘Not exactly walked.’ Teo’s head swum as he finally managed to get to his feet, but he stayed upright, gripping tightly on to Tommie’s arm and shoulder. ‘Look, I got lucky, but this is serious.’

Her gold-flecked eyes darted up and down the alleyway. ‘How serious?’

‘Get-off-Nar-Shaddaa-tonight serious. I’ve got to get back to the ship.’

‘What about the credits?’

‘I’ll work something out.’ Fuelling Open Ocean would just about wipe out his savings; looked like he’d have to take that Ord Mantell run after all. ‘What about you? Can you get off-planet?’

Too late, he remembered Tommie’s chronic phobia of space travel as the Zabrak waved her hands. ‘No, no, I don’t do off-planet, remember? I don’t care how bad you say it is.’

‘Then go to ground. Go stay with someone, or - Just stay out of sight for a bit, OK? Don’t do anything to draw attention to yourself.’

‘You’re one to talk right now.’

Teo looked down; he’d almost forgotten he was completely naked. ‘Fair.’

‘Here.’ Tommie held out the jacket she’d taken off; fortunately she was almost as broad across the shoulders as Teo.

‘This is the best you can do?’

‘Well, I wasn’t exactly planning on - hey, what’s that?’ Tommie grabbed for his arm as Teo lifted it to shrug the jacket on. ‘Did - did someone draw on you? In blood?’

Teo craned his neck to see. There, just below his armpit, where it might be missed by a casual observer: Two curved lines, meeting at one end, diverging at the other, the dark red standing out on his skin.

‘It’s lipstick,’ he said distantly. He could almost hear Karia’s voice: We’re even now, little fish.

‘Someone drew a fish on you in lipstick? What the fuck does that mean?’ Tommie asked, peering at it.

It meant if I see you again, you die.

Teo dragged his fingers across the drawing, smearing until it looked like a bruise. ‘It means not to go poking around where you don’t belong. Come on. We’ve got to go.’

Odessen, 3630 BBY/23 ATC

Teo knew she was there the second that she walked in.

He raised his drink to his mouth and took a swallow to cover up any giveaway changes in his expression, leaning one elbow on the bar with a casualness he was far from feeling as he listened to Hylo’s story. His heartbeats picked up speed as he watched her over the Mirialan’s shoulder, sauntering through the cantina, pausing at the jukebox to scroll through songs. He should have known, if reliable rumour had her away on Dromund Kaas, that there would be every chance she’d actually be on Odessen.

But Visz had wanted a face-to-face meeting with him for months now, and Corso had been desperate to visit Odessen Base since they’d started making runs for the Alliance, and Teo had been running very short on excuses he hadn’t already offered them both. And when Corso had heard that his old slicer buddy Jettison had washed up on Odessen working for the Alliance and insisted on heading there as soon as they were free, Teo hadn’t known how to tell him no. Not without telling him a story that Teo himself didn’t quite understand, or believe, anyway.

Teo tried not to let his eyes stray to the booth where Corso was sitting with Jettison and Bowdaar and a couple of other old buddies; it was stupid, really, but he didn’t want to draw any attention to Corso, not with her in the room. On the face of it, there was no real reason why she should care that Teo was on Odessen, but Teo still remembered the ambiguous message of that fish scrawled in scarlet on his skin, and who knew how she would react to seeing him again?

‘- So the damn things actually seem to be interbreeding with the Shade Stalkers, which means they’ve started to develop this weird camouflage reflex and their scales have started to bend light so we can’t see them in the trees until they drop - Hey, Commander!’ Hylo broke off her story in mid-sentence as she glanced around. ‘Don’t often see you in here.’

She looked over her shoulder and smiled exactly as if she’d just noticed them. ‘Some of us work for a living, you know.’ It was surprising how jarring it was to hear that clipped Kaasian accent clothing the tones he remembered.

‘And here I thought you just lounged around in your quarters all day with handsome men bringing you bon-bons and kneeling at your feet,’ Hylo retorted.

‘I leave that sort of thing to my head logistics expert.’ She turned away from the jukebox and strolled over to them. Her hair was raven-black now, scraped tightly back into a polished bun; her makeup was discreet and cleverly applied enough to look almost like no makeup at all; she wore a form-fitting black speedsuit, trimmed in red, as if ready to flow smoothly into combat mode at a moment’s notice. It was all very familiar from the holos, but it was still a shock to see her, the woman he still somehow thought of as Karia, sauntering up to him. Even her walk was different now, relaxed yet alert, carrying a subtle suggestion of a predator on home turf. ‘Who you’ll notice I’m not surprised to find in the cantina.’

She softened the barb with a teasing half-smile, and Hylo grinned back. ‘Hey, someone’s got to sample the latest shipment of vuul-nut wine, make sure it’s fit for your troops.’ The Mirialan motioned the bar-droid for another glass and poured a measure.

‘I’ve always commended your attention to detail.’ She took the glass Hylo held out to her and sipped, then licked her lips and smiled. ‘Delicious.’

‘Courtesy of the captain here.’ Hylo gestured to Teo. ‘Commander, meet Teo Lunulata. He’s the one who’s been doing such good work for us on the Commenor and Ison Runs. Captain, this is - well, you know who she is.’

Teo tensed, not quite certain how to play this, but she held out her hand to him without a flicker of recognition. ‘Captain.’

He grasped her hand, following her lead with slight relief. ‘An honour, Commander.’

‘First time on Odessen?’ she asked politely.

‘That’s right.’ Teo resisted the urge to look over at Corso, who he knew would be wide-eyed and starstruck in his booth; he was going to catch it later for not introducing him.

‘I was just telling the captain here about some of the new wildlife out in the woods,’ Hylo said.

‘Oh yes, the released specimens.’ She added with seeming casualness, ‘Amazing what can survive in the wild.’

Just like that, Teo was fifteen again, knees hugged to his chest and the sour taste of home-brewed wine on the breath that was fogging up the plexiglass, obscuring the stars. ‘Amazing,’ he answered quietly.

A new song came on the jukebox, some imitation Ithorian ballad Teo vaguely remembered being popular a decade or so ago, and she tilted her head to one side as if listening. ‘I wonder …’ She held out her hand to him. ‘Would you like to dance, Captain?’

Ignoring Hylo’s startled look, and Corso’s wide eyes in his peripheral vision, Teo took her hand. ‘I’d like that, Commander.’

She tugged him gently over to what probably passed for the cantina’s dancefloor of an evening, but which for now was just an empty space in the middle of the floor near the jukebox. Teo was conscious that everybody in the place was staring at them, but she fitted herself against him with such quiet assurance that it was the easiest thing in the world to wrap one arm around her waist and hold her hand with the other.

They danced like that for a few moments in silence, and then she tilted her head back to look up at him and said, ‘So. You finally made it to Odessen.’

‘It’s quite a place.’

‘I can’t take credit for it, believe me.’ There was an edge of bitterness in her tone that made Teo look down at her, and she shook her head slightly and gave him a small smile as if to say that it wasn’t anything to do with him. ‘I saw your name on Hylo’s very first list of operators to contact, but I didn’t know if you’d ever come here.’

Teo debated how to answer that non-question. ‘I didn’t know if you’d feel comfortable with that.’ He didn’t add, Or how quickly you’d have me killed if you weren’t.

The former Cipher Nine raised her eyebrows. ‘What are you going to do, tell people I sometimes pretend to be someone I’m not?’

Teo couldn’t help but smile at the exaggeratedly scandalised tone she used. ‘I suppose that secret’s out.’

‘Still, people close to me tend to become targets.’ Her gaze was direct. ‘You don’t want anyone thinking you’re one of them.’

‘I’ll keep my distance.’

‘Good.’ She cast a sidelong glance back towards the bar. ‘Who’s the boy with the arms?’

Teo resisted the urge to roll his eyes; apparently, people were never going to stop referring to Corso as a boy despite the lines at the corner of his eyes that deepened when he smiled and the touches of grey creeping into his hair at the temples. ‘That’s Corso Riggs.’ She would never have asked if she didn’t already know, so he added: ‘My husband.’

She gave another look at Corso from underneath her eyelashes. ‘He looks too good for you.’

‘He is.’

She smiled a little at the absolute conviction in his tone. ‘And here I thought you only liked things that were bad for you.’

‘You weren’t bad for me. I mean, Karia wasn’t. I mean -’ Teo abandoned his attempt at precision. ‘I guess I still think of her as … real.’

‘She’s at least as real as I am. Maybe more.’ She looked a little rueful. ‘I think I’ve buried her, and then you walk in. I suppose it’s harder than it should be, to let go of the people you were when you were young.’

‘Worth making the effort, though.’

‘Maybe.’ She cocked her head on one side. ‘How are you going to explain this to your husband?’

‘How are you going to explain dancing with a random freighter captain in the middle of the day?’ Teo shot back.

‘I like a challenge.’ She settled herself a little closer to him as the ballad continued, seemingly oblivious of all the watching eyes. ‘Besides, it helps to do something unexpected every so often. Otherwise my people might stop thinking of me as deeply enigmatic, and that would never do.’

Teo had occasionally whiled away long, slow nights in the cockpit over the past few years by idly putting together everything he knew or guessed about the woman now in his arms. But it struck him then that he’d never really thought about how hard it must be, for someone whose entire existence was predicated on disappearing, to find herself wearing the most famous face in the galaxy.

She must have seen the change in his face, because she said with an air of slight resignation, ‘Go on, say it.’

‘What?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Standing at the bar, you were burning with something to say, so say it now. Ask your questions. You won’t get another chance.’

‘Well, I do have questions,’ Teo said slowly. ‘I can live without the answers, though. But there is one thing I wanted to say to Karia Madesh, if I ever saw her again.’

‘And what’s that?’

‘Thank you.’

She smiled, looking away. ‘Couldn’t let you die because you got out of the wrong elevator.’

‘I didn’t mean Nar Shaddaa.’

Her eyes flew back to his face, but all she said was ‘Oh.’

‘She was the first friend I ever had.’ Teo hated how that sounded - like he was asking for, like he thought he deserved, sympathy - but this was the only time and place he was ever going to get the chance to try to say this. ‘She - the things she said - she helped me. Even if that wasn’t what she was trying to do.’

‘She wanted to,’ she said slowly. ‘She cared about you. Well, you pissed her off.’ Teo smiled at the way she said it, like those two things were synonymous. ‘You had everything, all around you, and you couldn’t see it. Everything she -’ She broke off, stared past him blankly for a moment and then gave a tiny shake of her head. ‘Anyway.’ She refocused on Teo and smiled up at him. ‘She’d have been glad to see you thriving … little fish.’

Teo groaned. ‘Please don’t let my crew hear you call me that.’

‘Oh, I’ll do better than that.’ She slid her hand around the back of his neck and leaned in closer to him. ‘How about I get you in trouble one last time? For old times’ sake?’

Teo considered. ‘But will you get me out of it?’

‘You’ll just have to take your chances.’

The kiss was long, and sweet, and almost torturously slow, neither of them wanting to be the first one to pull away. It had been a long time since Teo had kissed a woman, or anyone apart from Corso, and he had almost forgotten what it was like - the softness, the urge to drop his hands and pull her up onto her tiptoes and against him. The curious stares he could feel upon them, the knowledge of something illicit and never-to-be-repeated, even the fact that he knew Corso was watching, it all added up to something tormentingly delicious, until Teo’s head swam when he finally, reluctantly broke the kiss.

‘What do you know,’ he said absently, lost in staring down at her, ‘I stayed upright this time.’ He took a breath and then released it, long and slow. ‘So is that what I missed out on in the airlock?’

She smirked, gently disengaging his arm from around her waist as the song came to an end. ‘Trust me when I say that you have no idea what you missed out on in the airlock.’

‘You’re not going to walk me back to my friends?’ Teo objected as she stepped back. ‘That’s no way to treat a respectable boy.’

She spread her hands in a theatrical shrug. ‘Don’t you know by now I’m a bad girl?’

‘Maybe not as bad as all that,’ Teo said gently. Then he winked. ‘But they won’t hear it from me.’

She smiled and sketched a cross over her heart, then turned to walk away.

As she did so, Teo glimpsed the expression that she’d worn to look at him wiped from her face in an instant, the warmth and life gone in a second to be replaced with stone.

He had the feeling she’d wanted him to see that, just as she’d once left a message on his skin for him to find; her own protective colouration, a signal from one predator to another, or just another way of hiding in plain sight? He wasn’t entirely sure she didn’t want him to try to find out.

But if there was one thing he still owed Karia Madeesh, it was distance. So he went back over to the booth, to Corso and Bowdaar and the others, and told them to prepare the ship for departure.

It was time to be somewhere else.

[crygimethydgoode]

Lover’s Fantasia Chapter 5 (Crystal Methyd x Gigi Goode RPDR12) Green Light

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32286397/chapters/80979646

Summary: After Crystal and Gigi’s... adventure in New York City, everything has changed between them. And also, Drag Race Season 12 has premiered! Must be exciting to watch from home. 

honey i’ll be seeing you down every road

March 2020

Between: COVID edition

Gigi had learned to bask in the silence. The streets of L.A. were bare. She was supposed to be doing viewings of every episode at bars, she was supposed to be meeting fans around the country, maybe even around the world, and enjoying her new fame. But instead, Gigi just sat inside the House of Avalon and watched as Covid cases went up and the quarantine extended.

Rosy, Gigi, Symone, and Hunter started going on drives, just to kill time. Sometimes Marko or Caleb would hop in, but most of the time it was just the four of them. Rosy and Gigi sat in the back, Gigi’s favorite seat to see the views. While Symone sat shotgun, navigating Hunter who drove. Rosy had hooked up to AUX and had already hit shuffle on her driving playlist. They drove with all the windows down, letting the wind blow on their faces. Crystal would love this. Crystal. Crystal, who had been silent since New York. They had texted here and there, but only a few short texts that didn’t amount to any conversations. Gigi couldn’t help but assume it was about the kiss.

“Okay but that could be a good or a bad thing,” Symone said to Gigi after Crystal didn’t answer her call.

“Definitely good,” Rosy squealed.

“Definitely bad,” Hunter argued.

“Both?” Rosy suggested.

“None of you are helping!” Gigi yelled, head in hands.

“Maybe she’s reconsidering everything!”

“Or she’s regretting kissing you and now things are awkward,” Hunter quipped.

“You’re both fucking dumb. She’s only been home from press week for two weeks and now she’s in quarantine. Give the girl time to figure her shit out,” Symone said, shutting Rosy and Hunter both up. Gigi remembered why she appreciated Symone so much.

And so Gigi shook the thought of Crystal out of her head and focused on having fun with her friends as they drove around. She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and was shocked when she saw the caller ID. Widow? Why would Widow be calling Gigi?

“Rosy, turn it down, Widow is calling,” Gigi said. Just as Rosy turned down the music, “Green Light ” by Lorde started playing.

“I do my makeup in somebody else's car”

“Hello?” Gigi asked hesitantly.

“Hi, Geege, how have you been?” Widow sounded cheery. Way too cheery for Widow.

“Great- uhm, yeah no I’ve been great, you?” Hunter shot Gigi a puzzled look, Gigi just shrugged.

“I’ve just been enjoying my quarantine, thinking about learning how to cook...” Widow trailed off.

“And?” Gigi was now suspicious of Widow. If there was one thing Gigi knew about Widow it was she was not one for small talk. If Widow called you, she had something to say.

“And I’ve talked to Crystal a bit, and you’ll never guess who she is quarantining with,” Widow said, mischief ridden in her voice.

“Paul?” Gigi asked, sitting up straighter at the mention of Crystal.

“They’re talking about Crystal! Put it on speaker,” Rosy begged. Gigi hushed everyone before putting Widow on speaker.

“No. She’s quarantined with Lux...” Widow trailed off.

“Oh, cool?” Gigi said. Symone’s jaw dropped, Hunter clasped a hand over his mouth, Rosy screamed.

“No fucking way...” Hunter muttered. Why? It’s just Lux.

“Am I missing something here?” Gigi chuckled awkwardly.

“Jesus Gigi, read between the lines,” Widow laughed into the phone. Crystal was quarantined with Lux. Crystal was quarantined with Lux. Crystal was quarantined with Lux. Crystal was quarantined with Lux and not Paul. Why wasn’t Crystal quarantined with Paul? Why wasn’t Crystal quarantined with-

“Oh,” Gigi said. “OH. Oh my fucking god, holy shit, Widow did Crystal-”

“Yes. Yes, she did. Yes she fucking did. Do what you will with this information,” Widow cackled. Symone had turned around and grabbed Gigi’s hand, a wild grin on her face. Rosy was slapping Hunter over and over again whispering “I fucking told you'' repeatedly. Gigi sat there, stunned.

Crystal Methyd broke up with her boyfriend.

Crystal Methyd broke up with her boyfriend after they kissed in the Uber. Crystal Elizabeth Methyd kissed Gigi Goode, Gigi in the Uber, and maybe, just maybe her lips burned as much as Gigi’s did. Crystal Elizabeth Methyd kissed Gigi in the Uber and it made her lips burn so much she couldn’t bear to kiss Paul anymore. But that was wishful thinking, Gigi knew that. So why did it echo throughout her body, rattling her ribs, pumping blood to her heart, ringing through her ears? It was wishful thinking, but why didn’t it feel like it? Why did it feel all too real?

“I’M WAITING FOR IT THAT GREEN LIGHT I WANT IT”

“Gigi? You with us?” Widow said, snapping Gigi out of her trance.

“What do I do?” Gigi asked.

“Call her!” Symone and Rosy both said together.

“What if she doesn’t pick up? She probably won’t, she might not want to hear from me and I don’t want to push-”

“Jesus Christ, Gigi, fucking call Crystal,” Hunter cut Gigi off.

“Okay, I gotta go Widow! I’m gonna call Crystal,” Gigi said, laughing like an idiot.

“Go! Call her!” Widow said before hanging up.

“Now you fucking listen to me-”

“Shhh! It’s ringing!” Rosy squealed. Okay. Gigi couldn’t go out and blatantly ask her, that would be rude, she’d build up. ‘Ask her how her quarantine is going, ask her how her quarantine is going, ask her how-’ and then Crystal picked up, and Gigi’s heart dropped. She was silent. Rosy slapped her.

“Hi,” Gigi said a second too late.

“Hello?” Crystal giggled. Gigi relaxed at just the sound of Crystal’s voice. What was she going to ask again?

“You broke up with Paul,” Gigi blurted.

“Jesus Christ-” Symone sighed. Gigi heard a laugh that wasn’t Crystal’s, it was Lux.

“Yeah... yeah I did,” Crystal chuckled. Her voice sounded warm, Gigi melted.

“I- uhm was just chatting with Widow and it came up in conversation,” Gigi lied.

“Did it now?” Crystal questioned, but she didn’t sound angry or annoyed, she sounded...happy? Or Gigi hoped she did.

“Yeah and I just thought I’d... give you a call?” she said, covering her face with her hand as if Crystal could see her. Crystal and Lux both burst out laughing.

“You’re a terrible liar, Gigi Goode,” Crystal wheezed.

“Shut up...” Gigi hoped Crystal couldn’t hear her grinning over the phone. She caught Hunter’s eye, for once he wasn’t giving Gigi a pointed look, but a smile. “Well, I hope this quarantine doesn’t last too long, cause I think I need to pay you a visit soon,” Gigi said. Again, Symone’s jaw dropped, Hunter’s hand clasped over his mouth, and Rosy AND Lux screamed.

“Sounds like a plan,” Crystal whispered into the phone.

“Okay,” Gigi giggled.

“Okay.”

“Alright, I’m driving with Rosy, Hunter, and Symone so I’m gonna let you go,” Gigi said.

“Okay, bye Gigi,” Crystal whispered.

“Bye.” Gigi hung up the phone. The car was silent for a few moments until-

“Holy fucking shit-”

“Did that actually just happen?-”

“Guys I’m crying-”

“Rosy was actually right-”

“Oh my fucking god-”

Gigi just sat there, not even hearing what any of her friends were saying over one another. She just looked ahead at the streetlight shining green.

April 2020

One month. One month of quarantining, hand sanitizer, and wearing masks. Life had become so mundane, Gigi missed going to the grocery store. Wasn’t this supposed to be one of the best times of her life? Every Friday night Gigi got to sit in the House of Avalon and watch herself on TV, her fanbase growing every day. Why was she so bored, despite the fact that she was so busy?

Once Drag Race aired, Gigi’s life became a whirlwind of digital press interviews, photoshoots, Instagram Lives, and everybody in the country suddenly knowing who she was. Not to mention, they were starting to prepare for the finale, which unfortunately had to be held at home, all recorded on Grant’s iPhone. And it was really hard to enjoy it. COVID was still tearing through the world, and Gigi was stuck at home, quarantining with the House of Avalon. While she loved everyone, Gigi had lost nearly everything that was so fun about being on the show. No traveling, filming the finale, hosting watch parties, none of it.

And she never got to go to Springfield, to see Crystal. Crystal. Who was quarantined with Lux and her roommate. Because Paul was... out of the picture. Gigi didn’t know much. But Rosy and Symone had come to the conclusion that Crystal kissed Gigi, knew she was in too deep, that she couldn’t just get over her, and broke things off with Paul. And Gigi couldn’t help but agree.

Even Hunter didn’t object to what they said. Because... Crystal kissed Gigi. And then Paul was gone. It was real. Crystal wasn’t just a stupid crush Gigi had to get over. Hunter didn’t warn Gigi about getting her heart broken anymore. Gigi didn’t lie in bed and wonder if Crystal liked her. No. Now she laid in bed and thought about what it would be like when she finally got to see Crystal. If only fucking COVID would just end.

But Gigi could wait. In the meantime, she would enjoy Drag Race as much as possible. The fans were really eating up the season. Especially since everyone was so bored, locked inside. But the issue was, there wasn’t that much crazy drama this season. In the beginning, there was some drama but it was usually resolved within an episode. Gigi blamed Jackie for being so mature and bossy. And also, the girls just loved each other.

As the show progressed and they got closer, they basically just held hands and sang Kumbaya during Untucked. Gigi had fun, she loved it. But without the drama Drag Race was used to, the fans needed something else to cling to. And one of those things was Crystal and Gigi. Well- their... relationship? Flirtationship? The producers hadn’t even noticed it. But Gigi noticed. Gigi’s mom noticed. Everyone in the House of Avalon noticed. And so did everyone on Twitter. And then of course Crystal and Gigi added fuel to the fire on social media because they were bored and it was funny and… partially true. Anyways.

Crystal was so excited, immediately telling Gigi that they were the next Larry Stylinson, and needed to do this right because Crystal understood what the fans wanted. “Because Larry was amazing but it fucking hurt, Gigi. I can’t go through another Babygate,” she said one Friday night over FaceTime.

All Gigi could do was laugh. The fans had already become so taken with the ship. And once the Untucked moment of them nearly kissing was aired, it only got stronger.

There were people who genuinely believed that Crystal and Gigi were actually in a relationship. But those fans had no idea what was actually going on between them.

  If only they knew. If only they knew. If only they knew.

But then again, Gigi also had no idea what was going on between her and Crystal. Other than the fact that she was given strict orders from the Drag Race producers that she couldn’t confirm or deny their relationship. And that she missed Crystal so much. She felt worlds away. All Gigi wanted was to go through their conjoined door, and crawl into bed with Crystal. Things had been so much easier, so much simpler in the summer. But it was spring now. Drag Race was worlds away too, forever just a memory.

But Gigi would see Crystal soon. Eventually, COVID would be over. It had to be. How long could it really last? Gigi really hoped things would be better by summer, at least. They had to be.

July 2020

Things didn’t get better by summer. Thanks to useless politicians and assholes in America refusing to follow COVID guidelines, Gigi was still stuck in L.A. in July. No Pride, no 4th of July barbecues, still no Drag Race tours, performances in clubs, trips to Springfield.

Gigi also hella lost Drag Race which she was actually okay with. Of course she wanted to win. But Gigi was so happy for Jaida and filled with so much love for all of her Season 12 sisters, she was just grateful she ever got the chance to go on Drag Race.

But still, she was aching to perform live, to see Crystal and everyone else again. And then one afternoon in early July, Gigi got a Facetime call from Jaida Essence Hall that left her glowing gold with hope.

“GIGIIIIIIIIII!” Jaida, the reigning queen of season 12 yelled into the phone.

“JAIDA!” Gigi screamed back, so excited to see her season twelve sister again, even if it was just through the phone. “I miss you bitch!”

“Miss Gigi Goode I miss you too! And that’s why I’m calling you! Gimme one second, I’m trying to add Crystal to the call,” Jaida muttered, looking down at her phone. Suddenly Crystal’s face was on the screen too.

“JAIDA!!!” Crystal cheered, and everything felt right in the world again. “Hi Gigi!” Crystal added, waving into the camera. They had just Facetimed the night before, but Gigi still couldn’t get over how beautiful Crystal was. Still couldn’t get over how happy she was to see her.

“Now listen bitches,” Jaida said, getting their attention back. “I miss y’all! And if you didn’t know, I am going on tour with Drive N Drag. So I thought, at one of our stops, you two could come join me on the tour. We’ll perform together, drink together, maybe you two will make out or something. It’ll be so fun! Say yes,” Jaida said quickly, and Gigi didn’t have to think about it for even a second. And Crystal didn’t either. Because they both started screaming, yelling that yes of course they’ll come. Of course. “OKAY WAIT WHAT CITY ARE Y’ALL COMING TO THOUGH?” Jaida had to yell over them.

“Chicago!” Crystal immediately said. “It’s semi-close to me, and Gigi can see her family! And I really wanna see Chicago. It’ll be nice,” Crystal explained, and Gigi didn’t bother hiding her fond smile.

“Crystal…” Gigi muttered, and she didn’t remember the last time she smiled this big, the last time her chest had ached like this.

“Alright it looks like you two are about to have a moment, so I’m gonna get out of here. Chicago is the first weekend in August! I’ll send you the dates, and you’ll be emailed all the information soon. You should do a little dance together or something! Bye bitches I love you!” Jaida quickly hung up, and it was just Crystal and Gigi FaceTiming now.

“So… I guess I’ll see you the first week of August,” Crystal said slyly, and Gigi could feel her heart beating in her chest, could feel tears welling in her eyes.

Finally finally finally    

“I’ll see you the first week of August, Miss Crystal Elizabeth,” Gigi sang, and they were both silent for a moment, just looking at each other. Gigi hadn’t seen Crystal since February. And now, in less than two months, they would be spending nearly a week together. “How have we gone so long without seeing each other? Being away from you like this… just doesn’t make sense. We’re not supposed to be apart like this. It’s not fair,” Gigi breathed.

“I know,” Crystal said, somewhat sadly. But Gigi could still see how excited she was.

“I don’t wanna bring the mood down though. I'M GONNA SEE YOU IN LESS THAN TWO MONTHS BITCH!” Gigi exclaimed, and they were both yelling again, just so excited. So excited. So ready. They talked for a little bit, already making plans for all the places Gigi wanted to take Crystal. And then it was time to say bye.

“Well Gigi… I’ll just say this,” Crystal began, a glint in her eye. “After all this time apart… after all these nights alone just… just missing you. Wishing you were with me… I’ll see you soon. We’re gonna see each other, we’re gonna be TOGETHER, and the wait will have been worth it. Because we’re worth the wait,” Crystal said softly, and Gigi really didn’t want to cry. But Crystal wasn’t making it easy.

“I’ll see you soon,” Gigi whispered, and soon they hung up. And so she started counting down the days until Chicago. And although she didn’t know it, so was Crystal. And Gigi knew, things would truly never be the same after Drive N' Drag.

[yuengi]

bad boys bring it to you

header credits go to valerie @taendrils !!

pairing: tattoo artist!yoongi /reader warnings: choking, praise kink, dirty talk genre: pwp, smut words: 7.1k

Friends are useless.

You finally learn the truth behind these words when Taehyung and Hoseok corner you after work an unsuspecting Tuesday afternoon, smiles much too wide to mean anything good.

“So,” Hoseok begins, inspecting his fingernails with a smirk, “Remember last Thursday when you said I’d be too much of a wimp to ever get a piercing?”

You roll your eyes, pushing him back a little bit with a shove. “That’s because you are a wim–”

“False!” Taehyung interrupts, eyes glinting. “He is no longer Hoseok, wimp extraordinaire–”

“I resent that!” Hoseok interrupts, voice indignant.

“–but rather, Jung Hoseok, hardcore, punk rocker with an ear piercing.”

You blink. “What.”

“Rocker, juvenile, delinquent, lives on the edge–” Hoseok shrugs. “Take your pick; they all describe me right now.”

And then he turns to the side, a little glint of metal shining and oh–

Jung Hoseok has an ear piercing.

This is bad news.

Very, very bad news.

“Guys,” you plead, voice nervous and desperate. “It’s awesome that Hoseok got the piercing and all, but–”

“No buts! You promised you’d get a piercing if I got one.”

You huff at that; only Hoseok would hold you to a promise you made when drunk.

Taehyung and Hoseok are positively unbearable separately but when they come together, they’re an unstoppable force. It’s how you end up walking to a tattoo parlor on the sketchy side of town, shivering in fear as Hoseok trots alongside, whistling cheerfully.

“No, nope I can’t do this,” you wail, stopping in your tracks when the shabby tattoo parlor comes into view. “I’m too scared, Hoseok. It can’t happen–I’m gonna die.”

Hoseok snorts, one hand latching onto your wrist to prevent you from turning around. “If I can get through this, you can, too, stupid.” And with that, he’s tugging you closer and closer to the establishment, cackling as you plead with him.

The bell rings over your head as you’re pushed in, the sharp smell of antiseptic filling your nose. The shop is completely empty, save for the tanned, black-haired man bent over the counter top, pen cap clenched between his teeth as he doodles onto a white paper. It’s fairly small, a little red counter over a glass case full of piercings and two stout wooden stools. Tattoo designs cover every inch of the wall and there’s a beaded curtain separating what you assume must be the back rooms, but your thoughts are interrupted by the man standing, lanky limbs and bored eyes.

“Sup,” He calls, spitting out the pen cap and straightening. “Here for a tattoo?”

“No,” Hoseok laughs, jerking his thumb in your direction, “but my friend here wants a piercing.”

The man surveys you, plush lips pursed and you stumble forwards, wiping your sweaty and on your skirt and mustering a stiff smile as you stick your hand out. “H–hi!”

He looks unimpressed, eyebrow arched and nose wrinkled, but just as you’re about to lower your hand, he raises his, grasping your hand in a firm handshake.

“Yoongi!” He calls over his shoulder. “We got a client for you!”

The lanky man turns back to look at you, eyes impassive. “Yoongi’s the piercer around here, so don’t get all jittery.”

“J–jittery?” You squeak, fingers shaking. “Who’s jittery?”

Hoseok stifles a laugh with the back of his hand, shoulders shaking. “I’m sorry about my friend,” he offers with an apologetic smile. “She’s scared of everything.”

The man nods, head ducking behind the counter to rummage through the filing cabinets. “We get a lot of people around here who’re scared,” he drawls. “Yoongi’s good at what he does. I’ll just pull out the disclaimer forms for you and we can quickly wrap this up, alright?”

You nod as his head pops back up, a manila folder clenched between his fingers. “And you look plenty old enough, but I can I get your i.d? Just y’know laws and whatnot.”

You rummage through your purse, fingers brushing over lipstick tubes and hand sanitizer. Handing him the card, your eyes scan over the form. Everything looks standard, warnings of infections and standard procedure and liability.

You hear rustling behind the beaded curtain, sneaking a peek out of the corner of your eye to catch a glimpse of a black tshirt and black ripped jeans.

It must be Yoongi, the enigma, the piercer, the man who holds the fate of your life in his hands.

Your mind procures images of a burly six foot tall man, bushy eyebrows and formidable tattoos, tired of whiners and criers. It does nothing to settle your nerves, thoughts of piercings all over his face and rough, angry words.

The man behind the counter leans forwards as you scrawl your name onto the dotted line, scanning the page and filing it away, handing you a copy.

“Hey, Namjoon,” calls a voice from the back room, “where are all the clamps.” It’s deep, rumbly, slightly warm, and you shiver despite yourself.

The man behind the counter, presumably Namjoon, huffs and rolls his eyes, spinning on his heel to shove through the curtain.

“So,” Hoseok begins, “on a scale of one to ten, how quickly are you going to cry?”

You frown at him, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning against the counter, back facing the curtain.

“I’m not a wimp like you, so not at all. Unlike you, Hoseok I’m tough.”

“Good to hear,” chuckles a low voice behind you. “Makes my job a hell of a lot easier.”

You spin on your heel, eyes landing on an amused face, curled lips, and messy brown hair. He’s short–shorter than you expected–with thin, spindly arms and sharp, piercing eyes. Tattoos cover every inch of his arms, swirls of color and ink and climbing up and disappearing into the sleeves of his black shirt, reappearing on his neck.

You’re an adult with a semblance of self-control but your can’t help it when the first thought that runs through your mind is ‘holy fuck, this is so worth the needle’.

“I hear you want to get pierced today?” He offers with a waggle of his eyebrows. “My name’s Yoongi and stabbing with pointy objects is my game.”

You choke, spluttering out wheezes as Namjoon thwacks Yoongi on the back of the head, rolling his eyes. “Stop telling that to customers, dumbass.”

Yoongi cackles, head tipped back in mirth, and you admire the black ink etched into the column of his neck, faintly making out letters and swirling vines.

He shoves Namjoon aside, whisking the paper off the counter. You admire the way his fingers look, crooked and long, thick and rough pads rubbing against the folder.

“Checked her age?” He mumbles out of the corner of his mouth to Namjoon.

“She’s old enough,” the lanky male responds, ren cap back between his teeth, his eyes fixated on the paper in front of him.

Your eyes rake over his form, appreciatively eyeing his thighs, tight underneath the black denim, scanning up to trace over the tendrils of ink–

“You’re being so obvious right now,” Hoseok whispers in your ear, and you can almost hear the fucking smirk in his words, whipping around to throw a sharp glare at him.

“So, what kind of piercing would you like today, m’lady?” Yoongi asks, rubbing his hands together and casting a teasing smile in your direction.

“Tr–tragus,” you respond, momentarily taken off guard by his smile, “but are you the piercer?”

Yoongi’s eyes shift a little bit, lips curling into a wider smile. “Why yes, I am.”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Not a tattoo artist? But you don’t have any piercings?”

This time he looks even more amused and you catch the faintest smirk on Namjoon’s lips as well.

You can’t exactly breathe right now because Yoongi’s eyes are a little different and it’s making your breath catch a little bit. You’re not sure if the way he licks over his lips, tongue sticking out from between his teeth, is a habit or because of you. The way his eyes scan over you, dragging down your torso and flitting back up to stare into your eyes, leaving your fidgeting, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt.

He steps forward, too close, much too close and shoots you a smile before his mouth pops open. Your eyes catch the glint of a silver stud sitting innocently in the middle of his tongue and you faintly register Hoseok snickering but it’s all lost over the rush of blood in your ears.

“There’s my piercing,” Yoongi says, stepping back and shoving his hands into his pockets with a cocky grin.

“Oh.” The sound comes out as more of a croak. Excellent.

Namjoon seems to derive some sort of pleasure from your reaction, sniggering into his shirt sleeve.

“Alrighty then,” Hoseok chimes from behind you, “I’ve done my work, the rest of up to you. I have to meet up with Taehyung for dinner, so I’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully with another hole on your body.” He winks at you as he backs out of the door and panic flood through you as you leap forwards, scrambling.

“No, Hoseok, no,” you whisper urgently, tugging on his sleeve. “Please just stay.”

“Can’t, darling,” he drawls, lips drawing up into a smirk, “but I think you’ll find someone else here to help you out.”

And with that he skips through the door, a light tinkle in the air echoing as the only recollection of your stupid friends.

“Alright,” Namjoon sighs from behind you, “I’m leaving, Yoongi! It’s closing time in about ten minutes so she’s the last client we’re taking for the day!”

Yoongi appears next to you, hand on the small of your back. “Don’t worry,” he says, voice low and gruff, “I’ll take good care of you.”

A shiver runs down your spine, one you’re sure Yoongi can feel.

“I’ll lock up, so remember to leave the keys!” Yoongi calls over his shoulder as Namjoon shrugs on a jacket, nodding and swiftly leaving.

There’s a sort of silence that rings when the both of you are alone, one that makes your fingers tingle and head rush with too many thoughts.

Yoongi interrupts your thoughts with a gentle push, his hand still firm on the small of your back. “After you, m’lady. Let’s pick an earring first and we’ll go through the whole thing nice and easy.” His voice is deep, soothing, but it drives a shudder through your body, one you try to shake off as you eye the arrangements of earrings in the glass case.

“Since it’s a tragus there aren’t really very many options, but I’d recommend that one,” he says, long finger pointing at a silver stud. “Won’t get easily infected and pretty standard maintenance.”

“I’ll go with that,” you decide quickly, not looking forward to inflicting more pain than necessary on yourself.

“Alright, then,” Yoongi straightens, moving to part the curtains, “follow me.”

You’re led through a short hallway into a back room. Yoongi tells you to wait on the long table, eerily reminiscent of a doctor’s office, with white walls and a long white curtain and white paper covering the examination table that crinkles when you sit on it and it’s too much, too much.

“Relax,” Yoongi hums, standing at the small counter in the room, digging through the drawers. “I promise the pain isn’t as bad as they tell you.” He snaps on a pair of latex gloves

“That doesn’t help very much,” you wheeze, wringing your hands. “This place reminds me of needles and i just–nope.”

He laughs a little, the sound so clear and rich it makes your heart skip several beats. “I understand. I’ll guide you through the whole thing, so don’t stress too much.”

You nod, resigned to inevitable pain when he steps forward, a few pieces of completely foreign equipment in his hands. The first thing he hold up, much to your relief, is not a needle.

“I’m just gonna mark the place I’m piercing, alright?”

He brings his face close to yours, slim flingers gently slipping under your jaw to turn your face to the side. You spread your legs a little to accommodate his frame, the position strangely intimate.

The soft tip of the marker presses against your ear and Yoongi pulls back, an encouraging smile on his face.

“Don’t worry. Half the struggle is already over.”

He rips open an alcohol towelette, fingers brushing stray strands away from your face and the smell of disinfectant rises and permeates your senses.

“I’m gonna clamp your ear now,” he mumbles comfortingly, a sudden pressure on your ear. It makes you gasp and he shakes his head, cooing softly, “shhh, no, it’s alright, we haven’t gotten to the needle just yet.”

His eyes are fixed on your ear and for a moment you panic, fingernails digging into the paper beneath you, a loud crinkling noise echoing in the room. He looks down for a split second, an understanding look on his face. “Hey, it’s alright. Tell you what, if you want, you can hold onto my shirt.”

“W–what?” You stutter, teeth digging into your bottom lip.

“Hold onto my shirt or my waist, whatever, just brace yourself.”

This can’t possibly be normal you wonder, your cheeks flushing as your fingers scramble up to tangle in the hem of his shirt. But it’s something you quite enjoy, relishing in the quick peek of tattooed abdomen that flashes before your eyes. His eyes seem to smoulder, dark and heavy as his his breath ghosts over your lips, face coming closer to yours.

“Can I move on now?” He whispers softly, gently.

You nod, not trusting your voice and clamping your jaw shut.

“Good girl,” he praises, voice dropping several octaves, and your body burns at the words, cheeks flushing and a red heat spreading over your form.

And it definitely isn’t the best time to get turned on, you think, eyes slipping shut. There’s no possible way that this is normal.

“Be still,” Yoongi orders, his breath fanning across your face.

You dig your tongue into your lower lips, biting down when you feel the tip of the needle press against your ear. There’s a pressure first and then a pain that floods your sense, first dull then sharp. It leaves you whimpering, knuckles white as they tangle further into the hem of his tshirt.

“It’s alright,” he coos, lips brushing over your cheek. “We’re almost done.”

Tears collect at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over. Your ear burns, like all the blood is rushing to that one spot, head spinning, stomach twisting.

“And, we’re done,” Yoongi mumbles, moving the clamp away from your ear. “You did well.”

When your eyes open, a little teardrop runs down the side of your face, one that Yoongi gently brushes away with his fingertips.

You look up at him, pouting through the tears. “That was really painful.” The words come out breathless, almost in a gasp, too loud in the silence of the room.

Something flickers in his eyes, dark and smothering, but it quickly fades as he slips a hand underneath your jaw and tilts your head up, lips oh so close to yours.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, breath ghosting over your lips. The tension is stifling, pressing down on your chest and swirling inside your stomach.

Your lips twitch.

He steps back, taking the warmth of his body heat with him, and you mourn the loss. Yoongi takes a few moments to gather the materials, snapping his gloves off and tossing them into the wastebin.

“Make sure you clean then every night and avoid sleeping on that side,” he informs you, pacing around the room to clean up.

Your fingers twiddle in your lap, itching to make a move, but not quite sure what exactly. Yoongi is more polite now; there’s still the warmth, but it’s coated by the cloak of professionalism and it makes you pout.

It makes you reconsider everything that just happened, a longing ache filling your chest and you just need to say something, something not stupid, something–

“So how far to your tattoos go?” You blurt out, shoulders hunching as your eyes flit to every corner of the room, not quite meeting his.

Smooth.

His eyes snap to yours and he turns around, leaning against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Like how many do I have?” He questions, smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“Y–yeah,” you squeak intelligently.

Yoongi stalks forwards, strides long and purposeful, his eyes dark. He plants his hands on either side of your body on the examination table, wedging his form between your legs.

“Want me to show you?”

“Uhm, I mean if you want–”

You’re cut off by him stepping back, fingers gripping onto the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head and oh my–

Tattoos sprawl across his chest, wisps of ink trailing over his chest, little flowers and drawings that are so intricate you find yourself leaning forward, humming in appreciation when he steps forward again, back into your personal space.

Your hand lifts, almost unconsciously and your fingertips are halfway to his chest when you stop, blushing and looking at him with embarrassment.

“You can touch,” he supplies, eyebrow quirked in amusement.

A sort of happiness spreads through you at his words, fingers greedily moving to press against his cool skin, tracing the lines of ink up his chest, taking in the colorful swirls and carefully etched lines. Your eyes widen at the sight of two glinting silver metal pieces, pierced through his nipples.

A glance up at him with an arched brow only grants you a cocky grin from him.

You feel an involuntary shudder run down your spine at that, turning your attention back to his chest. Yoongi’s chest is really a work of art . . . covered with sprawling tattoos and splashes of colors, delicately balanced with the metal studs that wink at you from his nipples. His breath hitches a little when you drag your nail down the center of his chest, right between where the piercings lie, and you’re suddenly reminded of the compromising position the two of you are in, his half-naked body almost pressed up against yours, your legs dangling loosely around his waist.

It makes your fingers stutter, opting instead to follow one of the vines up his neck. Yoongi hums contentedly, tipping his head back as you follow the swirls, fingers pressing into his jaw and unconsciously dancing softly over his lips.

He brings his head back down, locking eyes with you, and this time his eyes are hungry, needier and it makes the ache between your legs intensify.

“Do you do this for all of your clients?” You whisper, one hand coming back to play with the hairs on the nape of his neck.

“Only for cute little things like you,” he answers, lips quirking, his eyes locked on your mouth.

“Oh.”

You really do have the most insightful conclusions at the best of times.

He brings his face closer, mouth hovering over yours, but he doesn’t seal your lips, and you realize he’s waiting, making sure that you’re okay with this. The last piece of dignity inside of you, of not fucking random hot strangers you meet in tattoo parlors, dies right there and then.

You lurch forwards, teeth clacking a little painfully against his and he immediately melts into the kiss, hands moving to tug you closer by your waist. He doesn’t waste time, licking into your mouth and groaning, pressing and swirling the metal stud on his tongue in ways that have you keening, both hands coming up to tug at his hair.

Your fingers fumble with the button of his jeans, tugging and fretting to pull the fabric away from his body. His cock springs free when you do, hot and thick and heavy, the tip an angry red, and out of the corner of your eye, you see his fingers twitch, once, twice. It’s too much, too overpowering, and you slide off the exam table, dropping to your knees in front of him, eager and wanting and impatient.

A long, black tattoo swirls over his left thigh, peeking out of the fold of his jeans from where he has them folded just enough for his cock to hang out.  Your eyes momentarily flit over it, taking in the image of a wolf appreciatively, but your mind keeps moving, taking in too much sensory stimulus at once. His thighs are spread, inviting, and you’d really like to sit in his lap but you’re a little more than distracted by the dick in front of your face, because dammit Yoongi is hung.

“Can I–” you croak, voice dry and cracked, “can I please touch?”

Yoongi cracks a teasing smile behind gritted teeth. “You’ve been good today, so I don’t see why not.”

You ignore the fire that burns down your spine when he says the words, leaning forward to flick your tongue over the head of his cock. His eyes flash and he practically growls, hands clenching into tight fists by his sides.

Your eyes slide shut, bobbing your head twice as you push the head of his cock past your lips, slick noises echoing in the silent room, coupled with the heavy breaths that are pulled in sharply through your nose. The stretch is wide, the girth of his length stretching the seams of your mouth and a dull ache settles in your jaw, but it’s one you enjoy, relishing in the way Yoongi moans, thighs quivering.

One of your hands come up to stroke at the base of his length, fingers brushing over all that you can’t take fully into your mouth. You try to take in more, relaxing your throat muscles and guiding his cock slowly into your mouth, humming when you hear Yoongi groan.

The sound intensifies the ache growing between your legs and you moan around his cock, fingers moving to claw at his thighs, raking over rough denim. You let out the faintest of whimpers, desperate and whiny and it’s all it takes for the last of Yoongi’s self control to snap.

He snarls, fisting a hand into your hair and dragging you forward, his cock hitting the back of your throat and your eyes snap open. Your fingers scrabble against his thighs, eyes tearing up as he snaps his hips forward, fucking into your mouth with a long, drawn out groan.

Yoongi’s cock stretches your mouth painfully, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes and running down the side of your face. He tips his head back, groaning, the sound painfully arousing, and exposes the length of his neck.

You’ve lost all control of your senses, so you splutter, choking when he drives his hips deeper, trying to pull broken breaths in through your nose when it ends up nestled in dark pubic hair. You focus on relaxing your throat, fingernails clawing into his thighs as your eyes slide shut.

“Good girl,” he praises, voice gruff, and when you flit your eyes up to look at him, teary and shining, his own roll back into his head, hips stuttering, a deep moan spilling past his lips. “That’s it, baby, take it all the way.”

You admire the ink adorning his neck, drool beginning to leak from the corners of your mouth and your lungs beginning to scream. The hand tangled in your hair finally releases and you pull back, coughing and spluttering, trying to ease the sting in your throat.

“Never taken a cock this big, baby?” He asks, voice lilting at the end teasingly, and when you look up, he’s got that smirk back on his lips and he wastes no time in roughly cupping your jaw and pulling you up, backing your body up against the examination table.

“Do you think you can take it?” His voice is gravelly, raspy and it makes you buck up against his frame, desperately searching for some type of release. One of his hands fists into your hair, snapping your head back as he laves the flat of tongue against the column of your neck.

You can only moan in response, fingers coming up to claw at his shoulders.

Yoongi bites up your neck, sucking fresh bruises into the unmarred skin and biting your lips, licking into your mouth. The piercings on his chest brush against you, intense and sharp all at once, leaving you a mess. You whine pathetically, legs almost buckling as you try to reciprocate the actions desperately.

He grunts when your knees give way partially, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you flush against his body, his length slipping underneath your skirt and pressing against the insides of your thighs.

“God, I wanna fuck so bad,” he groans, forehead pressed against yours and the way your breaths are coming out in rapid puffs of air is probably not healthy, but you can’t help it. Yoongi dissolves everything else around you, burning the air into a mess of lust. Bursts of pleasure wrack your frame as Yoongi grinds against you, teeth gritted and you can only mewl in response, fingernails raking down his back.

“Pl–please,” you manage, voice cracking as he rubs a hand up your thigh, slipping underneath your skirt. It’s all the permission he needs before his hands latch onto your waist, hoisting your body up onto the table.

Yoongis hands grope at your thighs, his teeth digging into your lower lip, biting and nipping. Your body feels weak and you’re more than happy to let Yoongi lift your arms, pulling your shirt off, his fingers fiddling with the clasp of your bra.

His lips immediately wrap around a nipple, the metal stud sweeping over the bud and leaving you gasping, back arching. One of his hands comes up to toy with the other nipple, tugging at the one in his mouth gently with his teeth.

You keen, bucking up against him and he grins in response, lips curving against the side of your breast.

“You’re so sensitive, baby,” he rasps, fingers slipping underneath your skirt to graze along the edge of your panties, “makes me wanna wreck you.”

His fingers slip past your panties, sliding up against your folds and your eyes roll back as his other hand untangles from your hair and glides down to press against your lower back, bringing you impossibly close. Your fingers claw at his shoulder blades, reveling in the way they shift, but then he pushes a finger into you and your eyes roll back, jaw slackening and a loud moan slips past your lips.

He bites down the length of your neck, laving his tongue over the surface and groaning as his fingers pump into you quickly, bringing you closer and closer to your climax.

“Y–Yoongi,” you mewl, fruitlessly trying to rock back down onto his fingers, “please.”

He practically snarls against your neck, mouth peppering kisses until he reaches your lips, tongue slipping into your mouth.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, chest rumbling as he pulls away, a string of spit pulled between your lips, “say my name again.”

He curls his fingers, hitting every spot inside of you perfectly and you whine, rutting up against him.

“Yoongi Yoongi Yoongi,” you breathlessly moan, eyes screwed shut. “Yoongi, fuck, yes, Yoong–”

He cuts you off by sealing your lips together again, the hand on the small of your back moving to grope your thighs and spread them further apart, leaving you gasping and squirming underneath him. His tongue piercing rubs against the roof of your mouth, a high keen slipping past your lips at the feeling.

“Fuck, your piercing feels so fucking good,” you blubber, breath hitching and teeth digging into your lower lip.

He pulls his fingers out and you whine in protest, hands coming up to splay across his chest as your eyebrows furrow at the sudden loss.

“Wanna fuck you,” he rasps, voice low and grating, fingers slipping into the waistband of your skirt and pulling it down roughly with your panties. “Gonna fuck you so good.” His words come out in a jumbled slur, tongue heavy with lust.

Your clothes go flying over his shoulders, but you’re too far gone to even care about where they land, dragging your fingernails down the expanse of his chest, fingers hooking through his belt loops as you straighten your back and wrap your legs around him.

He kisses you, lips slick and rough, but surprisingly gentle, hands coming up to push your body down so you lay flat against the table.

“Fuck,” you whine, back arching needily against the table,

“Y’know,” he hums bending down and flattening his tongue along your folds, “my tongue feels good in a lot of places.” There’s a smug smirk across his lips when you wail, fingers threading through the strands of his hair, tugging him closer.

He moans against you, tongue flicking up across your clit and your eyes roll back at the feeling of the little metal ball rubbing against your clit. A chokes off scream bubbles past your lips, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes and you lock your legs around his head, bucking up against him.

Yoongi’s hand presses down on your hip, a growl ripping from his throat as he swirls his tongue around the bundle of nerves, drawing a long moan from your lips. He trails his tongue down, thumb coming to rub at your clit, and pokes his tongue at your entrance, the metal stud pushing in briefly. Your legs shake, body writhing, and he pushes his tongue in, the metal ball pressing and dragging inside of you and all you can do is cry out, shaking underneath him.

His tongue fucks into you lazily, a stark contrast to the pace set by his thumb on your clit, and you moan mindlessly. The hand on your clit moves and now both of his hands are kneading into your thighs, blunt nails leaving thin red lines in their wake. His hands lift your thighs, pushing them flat against the table and you don’t think you’ve ever been this exposed but the dull ache in the muscle takes a back seat to the rush of pleasure coursing up your spine. Yoongi doesn’t waste time, fingers leaving blue-black bruises across the skin and tongue fucking into your so well, your toes curl and your legs shake.

“Yoongi,” you whine, voice needy and desperate, “I can’t–please.”

He pulls back with a grin, lips wet and glossy, standing to plant both hands by your head. “Want you to cum around my cock, baby,” he rasps, his cock rubbing against your thigh, the rough denim of his jeans scratching at your legs.

His hands trail down, latching onto your hips and you squeak as he manhandles you, flipping you over onto your front and bending you over. You can hear him behind you, moving around and rustling, and when you hear the telling rip of a condom wrapper, you arch your back a little bit, jutting your ass out. The crinkled paper on the examination table sticks to the sweat on your stomach, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when the fat head of Yoongi’s cock pushes into you, a hitched gasp spilling from your lips. He rocks in slowly, his length filling you up and pressing against your walls in all of the right ways, leaving you a writhing mess. You can only claw at the examination table, mewling at the feeling and arching your back to pull him in closer, but it proves futile when his hands come to grip your hips, holding you steady.

He bends over, hands coming to press down on top of yours, hot breaths puffing against your neck. Yoongi peppers little kisses there and the act feels strangely intimate, and your heart swells a little but you grit your teeth, forcing it away.

He raises from where he’s bent over you, hands firm on your hips as he rocks into you, painfully slow. It doesn’t take you long to adjust, trying to rock back against his hips, but Yoongi is careful, almost gentle,  fucking into you with shallow thrusts and it makes tears well up in his eyes. You don’t want him to gentle–you want him to fuck you so hard your legs shake and you can’t breathe and you’re screaming.

“Yoongi,” you moan, breathlessly, neck bent at an awkward angle as your eyes slide back to find his, and it’s so utterly filthy, the way he’s staring at you, jaw clenched in restraint, that it makes all the uncertainty inside of you melt away. “Fuck–fuck me, properly. Do it right.”

He snarls at your words and it seems like that’s all it takes for his self-control to snap because he’s pulling his hips back all the way, only the tip of his cock inside of you and then he’s snapping his hips forward so hard your hips slam into the examination table. Your eyes roll back and you’re sure there’ll be bruises all over your body when this is over, but everything fades expect for Yoongi and his dick and the way he feels inside of you.

“Baby,” he groans, voice raspy and gravelly, “you’re so good like this, you take me so well.” His hands come to pull yours behind your back, folding your forearms across the small of your back and holding then there with one hand.

Drool leaks out of the corner of your mouth as he slams back into you, thick and hot and pulsing inside of you. His hips are snapping into you so quickly the examination table is slamming into the wall, heavy pants and stuttered curses tellingly loud in the small room.

His free hand fists into your hair, snapping your head back and you wail, teeth clacking together from the sheer force of his thrusts.

“Gonna let me choke you today, baby?” He rasps, voice tight and strained.

You mouth opens in a moan, the idea so utterly arousing you can’t breathe, the world a spinning mess of colors. Your lips can only blubber back a mess of broken sounds and syllables, and Yoongi’s low rumble of “slow down, baby” doesn’t help.  

When you finally manage to regain some form of coherency, you garble, “Fuck, please, yes Yoongi, please choke me please please please.”

Yoongi calms you down with soft coos, releasing your arms and hair to instead trace circles into the small of your back with his thumbs and groans “yes, anything for you, baby”.

He pulls out of you, a low his slipping from his lips and fingers drawing away from you. Without the support of his hands holding your up, your knees buckles and you nearly fall to the ground, but just as quickly, his hands are back on you, lifting you to instead lay you flat on the examination table, fingers moving to wrap around your ankles and lift your legs until you’re nearly bent in half. The position is exposing, revealing and you feel a warm blush creep up your neck, spreading across your cheeks. Yoongi seems to take note of the blush because he rakes his eyes down the length of your body, a smirk spreading over his lips.

“Pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

You keen at the praise, beck arching and fingernails clawing down his chest. He pushes back into you and your breath hitches when he bottoms out, his cock heavy and thick in all the right ways.

“Y,” you whine impatiently. “Fucking move already–”

He cuts you off by pulling his hips back and snapping back into you, his breath fanning over your lips and when his fingers curl around your neck, where chin meets throat, you can only bite back the moans that threaten to pour from your lips.

The effect is instantaneous: you clench around Yoongi, eyes rolling to the back of you head, mouth open in a silent gasp. You can feel your whole body starting to tingle, from head to toes, and you notices Yoongi has stopped moving, mesmerized by the bliss flitting across your face. The burn in your lungs intensifies and all you can focus on is how good Yoongi feels inside of you, the stretch and burn of every thrust heightened.

His fingers relax, just as black spots begin to dance on the edges of your vision and you cough the sting away, eyes watering.

“You alright, baby?” Yoongi asks, thrusts slowing as he pulls a few sweaty strands away from your face.

You whine at the loss and buck up against him needily. “Yes,” you slur, throat burning, “I’m fine, but please please do that again Yoongi please.”

Yoongi’s lip twitches at this and really, you beg for him so well, he’d be crazy to deny you. His face relaxes and he grins teasingly, hips snapping into you.

“Good girl.”

His fingers curl back around your throat and you bite your lip in anticipating as he tightens his hold, cutting off your airflow.

Your breath cuts off, and as your lungs start to burn, it’s like you can feel everything else more intensely. The rough denim of Yoongi’s jeans rubbing against your inner thighs and the press of Yoongi’s hand on your throat and the drops of sweat that bead up along his forehead, dripping down his temples. You look up at Yoongi and his face is flushed and his lips are parted and he’s staring at your neck with a fascination and desire that makes your eyes roll back and jaw slacken.

It’s too much, the pleasure and the fire burning underneath your skin and it has to peak somewhere.

Your nails rake down his chest, graze over his arms, trace over his shoulder, desperate to mark up every inch of skin as your end draws nearer.

You’re getting lightheaded, colorful spots dancing on the edges of your vision, and you wants to scream, tell Yoongi how good it feels, meet his thrusts, but you can’t.

You’re weak, the tips of your fingers tingling, and you can only lie there in completely surrender to Yoongi’s control, and just take it.

Just when you feel like the pleasure is unbearable, like you’re becoming delirious, Yoongi releases his hold and moves his hands to your thighs, spreading them further apart as his thrusts grow more erratic.

“Come on,” he groans, eyes clouded with lust, “cum for me. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

It’s what has your toes curling, eyes rolling back as a scream is ripped from your throat and you clench around him, impossibly tight. It only takes Yoongi one, two more thrusts before he’s spilling into the condom with a loud groan of your name.

Yoongi sinks forward, elbows catching himself on the examination table and hovers over you. His smile is softer this time, sweet and pretty and maybe it’s the post-orgasmic haze but there’s a sort of beauty that comes with Yoongi looking blissed out, hair mussed.

It has you craning your neck up to seal your lips in a lingering kiss, tongue licking into your mouth and the feeling of the metal stud rubbing against your tongue has you whining.

“That was nice,” he says when he pulls back, a thin string of saliva stretched between your lips. His lips are curved in a smile but it’s not mocking in any way. In fact, he seems genuine and it makes your heart flutter, lower lip caught between your teeth.

“Yeah, that made me way less scared” you whisper, smiling up at him and for a moment, he looks taken aback, but something flickers behind his eyes and he leans down to plant a soft kiss on your lips before he pulls away and stands.

He turns away and rummages through one of the cabinets, shooting a smirk over his shoulder. “Pleased to be of service m’lady.”

You snort, one hand coming up to lay over your eyelids as you try to catch your breath, startling when you feel a cold swipe over your thigh. Your eyes find a sheepish Yoongi holding a pack of wet wipes and cleaning your legs of cum and sweat.

“Hold still.”

The cold wipe cleans over your thighs and gently moves over your folds, cleaning up the slick and he tosses it into the wastebin, rolling his condom off with a hiss and tying the end, throwing it out.

He helps you back into your clothes, mumbling soft apologies about the bruises and hickeys that litter your skin, but you wave them off, blushing a little because it’s not like you didn’t want them.

A few minutes later, you’re both standing in front of the counter back at the front of the shop and he’s leaning across the counter, a mischievous smile across his lips as you pout.

“I’m sore.” you pout, knees still weak.

Yoongi laughs, head tipping back, and you decide you like the sound, especially when it’s paired with his bright grin coming into view.

“I’m sorry about that,” he says, a deep rumble in his chest, “but how about I make it up to you with dinner? Tomorrow night?”

Your words die in your throat and you stutter, because at this point you may as well have the DNA of a tomato what with how mow much Yoongi has made you blush in the past hour.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” He says, eyebrow raised and you nod quickly, fingers twiddling.

He looks a little unsure, lips thin and nose wrinkled so when he steps around the counter with long strides to open the door for you, you stumble after him and lift onto your tiptoes, fingers tangled in the collar of his shirt as you bring him in for a lasting kiss. It’s more tame than your other kisses, more sweet and soft and reminiscent of sunsets and daisies. The blood in your ears thrums and your eyelashes flutter open when you pull back, met with smirking Yoongi.

“It’s been a pleasure,” he hums, leaning back in to plant a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll see you here tomorrow night, then? At seven?”

You bite back a smile and mumble back dreamily, “Yeah, sure, I’ll see you then.”

And when you waddle out of the shop, five kisses later, lips still tingling, you find that you can’t stop smiling as you wait for your bus back home because maybe you don’t mind Hoseok and Taehyung forcing you to get a piercing because of a bet you made when you were drunk.

Yoongi might be worth it.

a/n: helloe! this is ! my first fic!! i appreciate any and all feedback big thanks!

[luvknow]

not so bad | lee minho

genre: lee minho x fem!reader | friends-to-lovers ; roommates ; college au ; swearing ; alcohol consumption

summary: falling for your best friend isn’t the most ideal situation, but it’s not as bad as you think

wc: 13.7k

For most people, living with your best friend sounded like the most ideal situation - the absolute best and only option. Most people couldn’t even begin to think about living with anyone else. Think about it; endless nights staying up watching some shitty Netflix live-action adaptation of an anime, eating Chinese take-out on lazy Sunday evenings, going grocery shopping together? The list of things to do together was infinite! Who else would anyone want to do all the boring domestic stuff with other than their best friend?

But you, on the other hand, would rather be homeless.

“Wo~ow,” Minho scoffed when you rejected his generous offer.

The two of you sat in his newly-furnished, but still a bit empty, living room to take a break from unpacking and arranging all of his junk. About a month before the new semester started, Minho’s rich-ass uncle so graciously offered him one of his several houses just a couple bus stops away from campus. As long as Minho kept the place clean and maybe got a roommate or two to help pay the mortgage, then he was free to stay until he graduated. Of course, you were the first person he asked because the above statements spent with you sounded like so much fun.

Too bad you’re cold and heartless and wanted him to die alone.

“Why don’t you want to move in?” his asked, cheeks filled with lo mein. “Didn’t you just say you hated living at your place?”

“I didn’t say I hate it… I just hate that she brings a different guy over every other day.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad. It sounds like normal roommate shit. It’s better than her being a slob, isn’t it?”

“I guess, but when it’s 2:00 am and I can hear EVERYTHING through the walls, I want to jump off the balcony.”

“Not everything.”

“I mean it, Minho. Everything.”

“Damn, invite me over next time.” You chuck a piece of your half-eaten fortune cookie and it hit him right on his bare forehead leaving a tiny scratch mark. “Ow! What was that for!?”

“Stop being weird!”

“If you hate hearing all that gross stuff all of the time, isn’t that all the more reason for you to come live with me?”

“No, because you’ll literally do the same thing!”

“Ok, you have way too much faith in me to think I’m going to bring someone home that often.”

“Hm, I do, don’t I…”

“C’mon, cheap rent, cool aesthetics, good company - what’s actually holding you back? Are you afraid you’ll fall in love with me?”

Minho held a single chopstick between his big bunny teeth and did that weird little smirk and wiggly brow combo that somehow caught the hearts too many girls back in your high school days. To this day, you were one of the lucky few who didn’t fall under his spell. The sriracha sauce stains on his cheek made him look EXTRA sexy.

“Why in the world would living with you mean I’d fall in love with you?” you asked, shoving a napkin to his cheek.

“Don’t girls like that corny domestic lifestyle shit? Coexisting in the same space, mutual seemingly-platonic hugs and cuddles, cooking together, and all that jazz?”

“You’re not even into all that jazzy stuff!”

“I like to cook!”

“And then what, I’m left with the dishes? I’ll be falling head over heels for you in no time.”

“That’s how mutualism works, silly! We each benefit from each other’s skills! Symbiosis, or whatever.”

A giggle left your lips from his expanded vocabulary. Who knew he knew so many words with more than two syllables?

“Those are some complicated words. I take it you like Biology 101?” you asked.

“I do! It’s super cool! Did you know in most species, the male is known to be the more colorful and prettier one and not the females? And the males compete with each other and the females are the ones choosing the prettiest, strongest male?”

“I did not know that.”

“Well, it’s true. It’s called sexual selection - it’s like peacocking.”

“Sounds like some shit you do with all your name brands and stuff.”

“Please, like other guys could even compare to my train of feathers.”

In the end, after days flowed into weeks of begging you to come live with him in what he called his playboy penthouse, he reluctantly accepted your rejection and was off to beg one of his other friends because there was no way in hell could he afford this place alone. Though ideally Minho wanted to be roommates, having you visit often was close enough. It’s just… asking you to move in with him was not about helping him with rent in the least. He truly, genuinely wanted to do dumb domestic chores, bicker all day, and have those deep, late-night talks with you whenever he could. Wouldn’t it be so fun if he annoyed you and followed you around every waking minute of the day?

Doing all of those things to half the extent would be just enough for now. His favorite activities with you were anything involving food. Even grocery shopping, normally one of his least favorite and most stressful chores by himself, was tolerable with you around because you knew just the right cuts of meat and what ingredients were needed for the perfect meal.

“Why did you pick so many vegetables? I’m not a rabbit…” the seemingly twelve year old next to you pouted. Like an angsty teenager, he used the cart as a means of support and followed closely behind with a pout on his lips as you dumped vegetable after vegetable into the cart.

“You kind of look like one, though.”

“Are you callin’ me cute?”

“I’m calling you a nuisance.”

“A cute nuisance, right?”

“Oh, my God, you’re so annoying.”

But soon the semester would start and your day would no longer be spent with him, it’d be spent at the library either studying or tutoring the dumb freshmen. Before you ask, yes, he was jealous of all the other people who took up your time and yes, he’s very clingy. You could see where Soonie, Doongie, and Dori all got their bad habits from. Normally, with any other guy including some long-term boyfriend, you’d be tired and annoyed if they were anything like Minho. But only the real Minho could get away with texting you so often and wondering why you weren’t baking brownies with him at ten at night.

Things weren’t easy on your end, either. You barely had time for yourself and it was only the first round of midterms for the semester! All you ever did these days was wake up, eat, school, eat some more if and ONLY IF you had time, and finally sleep… sometimes. This routine included the weekends, too. You offered for Minho to join you in the library for a study sesh nearly every day, but he’d rather die than sit in germ-infested chairs that are never sanitized, so yeah, you don’t get to see him face-to-face very often anymore. Facetime and Skype would have to do for now.

But then all that lost time started to catch up with you. You’d often come home late, especially if you knew your roommate had someone over to do their thang, and before you could flop on your couch to take a breather, it was completely missing from the living room because your roommate packed up all of her shit and left! Without even telling you! How rude, right!? Until you found a note on the coffee table that said, ‘I moved out today! Sorry if this is such short notice… You haven’t been home the past couple of weeks for me to tell you in person and I didn’t want to break it to you in text…’

Ok, so you wouldn’t say you were totally not at fault for this considering she was considerate enough to want to tell you about moving out in person, but didn’t she think to at least text you like… a couple of days before she did it!? Your lease was supposed to renew tomorrow, but now there wasn’t enough time to find a last-minute roomie on the college forum-version of craigslist and you didn’t make enough money to pay for the rent solo, so now you were almost homeless.

So that’s how you ended up in front of Minho’s place at half-past midnight on the dot with your big stuffed bear in your arms and a cheeky, adoring smile on your guilty-written face. You must have woken him up because his fluffy hair was sticking up in all directions, his eyes were barely open, and… he was shirtless…

“I’m not interested in your Girl Scout Cookies,” he mumbled tiredly.

“I wish I was selling those, then maybe I wouldn’t be here…”

“What do you mean?”

“Guess who wants to be your roommate ~!” you sang cheerfully.

“No.”

“Wha-? Why not!?”

“I already have one.”

“Who!?”

“Changbin,” he said, shooting his thumb to the small lazy boy lounging on the couch. Wasn’t he rich as fuck also? What does he need to live here for?

“‘Sup,” Changbin greeted, unable to look away from the television.

“Don’t you have one more room in this place? I’ll even sleep in a closet if I have to,” you pouted tiredly. You were ready to ring in the water works if you had to because if Minho rejected you one more time, your tears were ready to flow.

“Whoa, you’re that desperate, huh? What happened?”

“Roommate moved out, I couldn’t find another one, cried and contemplated life for a little bit, and now I’m here.”

“Damn, that is pretty bad…”

“Yeah, so as you can see, I really need you right now.”

Minho knew you were never one to rely on people, no matter how close you two were. For as long as he could remember, you always did everything on your own. So for you to say that you needed him, you must have really meant it. Your words were soft and quiet, your gaze set on the porch you stood on, and of all things he hated, seeing you so upset and stressed like this was among his top five on the list. How could he turn you away when this was a time you needed him the most? He knew if he were in your position, you’d welcome him in without hesitation.

You sighed tiredly, pushing your pride aside to ask a friend a favor. “So could you spare another roommate? Just until I can get back on my feet again?”

“Hm…” Minho fake-contemplated, rubbing his scruffy chin. “You know, normally I would never do this, but since you’re my friend, I GUESS I could let you stay here until you’re set.”

“If it’s too much trouble, or if you don’t want me here, I can go -”

“No! You’ll stay here with me for as long as you’d like.” A half-naked but jolly Minho smothered you in a bone-crushing hug. Even though touching so much surface area of his skin made you cringe, his hug made you feel more at home than your apartment could ever make you feel.

“Don’t ever assume I don’t want you here, dumbass. I’ll always welcome you with my open, naked, buff arms.”

“Ugh, this is so gross.” Regardless, you returned his hug with equal force. You never felt safer. “Thank you. I seriously owe you one.”

“Anything for my girl. Where’s all your stuff?”

“Yeah, that sounded more like a tomorrow problem, but I came here tonight because I was lonely.”

“Ha ha, you miss me ~”

“Just a little.”

“Since you’re already here, just stay the night. We can order food and start our big, happy, poly-domestic partnership right now.”

“For the love of God, please do not say that aloud in public…”

“No promises.”

Minho dragged you into the only other bedroom that wasn’t occupied and you’re pretty sure it was just as big as your living room. It was pretty much furnished with all of the basics, so you’re lucky that you won’t have to bring too many heavy things in the morning. As you were admiring the room, a finally fully-clothed Minho chucked his pajamas at you.

“You can wear these for tonight,” he said.

“Ew! Why did you give me your boxers!?”

“I thought my pants would be too long on you?”

“I’m not wearing wearing these.”

“So ungrateful… My sweatpants are in my room in the drawer. Go nuts.”

Minho left you alone to go order food for his two favorite pals while you were left to your own devices in the room where the magic happened, as he called it. For a dude, you knew he was on the cleaner side, but his bedroom was a lot tidier than you expected. There weren’t any clothes on the floor, all of his accessories were placed neatly by the mirror, and the only thing out of place was his blanket that was jumbled up in the corner of his bed. You suddenly felt a wave of guilt wash over you for disturbing his beauty sleep, but like you said at the door, you owed him one. Well, maybe more than one… like, a dozen ones…

While looking through the drawers for pants, you rolled your eyes at the site of all the name brands embroidered near the pockets. The logos were strictly swooshes and SUPREME. An opportunity to wear matching sweatpants and hoodie that were worth more than your textbooks didn’t come very often, so you chose the heather gray pair. Just as you slipped your head through the top, Minho came in to check on you.

“I ordered chicken, I hope that’s cool - whoa!” Minho burst into a fit of giggles at the site of his his already-oversized sweats looking extra oversized on you. You’ve worn his hoodies before and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of the way you look in them. You’re just so cute.

“You look like a jumbo toasty marshmallow.”

“I wouldn’t say jumbo… and marshmallows aren’t gray.”

“Same difference. Are you ready yet? Changbin’s gonna drink your beer if you don’t come out sooner.”

“That little -! He’s such a roach!!”

You sprinted out of the bedroom and hopped over the empty side of the couch, scaring the boy dressed in all black who was just trying to eat his chips and watch How to Get Away With Murder in peace. You didn’t know him as well as you knew Minho, but you two hung out within the same circle enough to be comfortable around each other so living with him shouldn’t be TOO terrible. Luckily, your drink looked like it hadn’t been touched.

“So are you like, living here living here?” Changbin asked with fake disgust in his tone.

“Yeah, so get used to it.”

“Just when I thought I’d get Minho all to myself…”

“What are you doing here, anyways? Aren’t you also like, super dumb rich? You could probably buy this whole building.”

“No, my parents are super dumb rich. I, on the other hand, barely have a dime to my name until I graduate law school.”

“Oh yeah, you changed your major right?”

“Yeah, and let’s just say my parents weren’t too happy about that… Thankfully, my favorite hyung here has so graciously let me into his home ~”

“Yeah yeah…” Minho mumbled, squeezing himself in the middle. “Anything’s better than being alone in this place, even if it means housing you two rats.”

“Hey, you said you’d always welcome me here, so that’s your fault for agreeing,” you argued.

“Love you, babe ~” Changbin sang.

Once the chicken arrived, your night of being welcomed to the penthouse had only begun. The rest of the evening was spent talking about literally anything your tipsy and dumb brains could conjure up. From crying about school, to praying to the stars, and telling Changbin stories about yours and Minho’s prepubescent days, you could already predict your days living here would make your heart full.

“I bet you’re single, huh, _____?” Changbin said suddenly after popping open his third beer.

A conversation about each other’s love lives was probably the last thing you wanted to talk about, especially when alcohol was involved, but your mouth started talking before your brain could process.

With a pout on your lips, you retorted, “Why do you say it like that?”

“Because what person would be ok with having their girlfriend living at another dude’s apartment and with me as the other roommate?”

“If you already knew the answer, why bother asking?”

“I just wanted to confirm in case you and I accidentally fall in love.”

“I’ll evict both of you before I let that happen under my roof.” Minho slurred.

“What is with you and Minho and the whole roommates falling in love trope? Is that a common thing? Have you two been watching dramas since you started living together?”

“So what if we have!?” Changbin yelled.

“They’re not realistic, you know.”

“It’s called a drama for a reason.”

“I feel sorry for the next person you end up dating.”

“Yeah, me too.” Changbin took a huge, final chug of his beer before crushing it in his hands. So macho… “All right, I guess it’s time I pass out. See you guys in the morning. Don’t get too crazy while I’m asleep.”

“Nighty night.”

You and Minho were left in the quiet living room snuggled up in your own blankets. You thought the silence was comfortable, as you’ve spent enough time with him that not a word said in between for long periods of time was just fine, but by the look on his face you could tell something was up. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe he was just tired, but his eyes never left the random spot on the coffee table for a solid five minutes.

You threw a potato chip at his cheek.

“Hm?” he hummed, surprisingly unphased. His tired eyes turned to look at you questioningly.

“What’s on your mind, my Prince?” The origin of the beloved nickname was from the time you dared him to try out for the high school play as the leading role and to your excitement and his dismay, he was passed the audition. He’d never admit it to your face, but he kind of enjoyed the spotlight and popularity for a while, and he never lets you forget how much he loved that nickname.

You managed to crack a smile from him and your worries began to fade away. “I was just thinking about something.”

“‘Bout what?”

“What Changbin said - what if you end up really liking someone and they’re not ok with you living with two hot and sexy guys?”

“Well, he can either get over it or I’ll dump him.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Why not? Remember that pact we made our first year of high school? The one where we pinky promised each other that no matter what, we wouldn’t let anyone come in between us?”

“Of course I do, but we were like what, fourteen? That was so long ago!”

“So?”

“So what I mean is…”

The ruggedly handsome boy beside you sighed deeply like he was ready to tell you something important. He laid his heavy hands on your shoulder and pulled you close so that you had all of your attention on him and not the fact that there was only two inches between your faces and that he smelled like alcohol. Was his skin always this clear? What the hell was his skincare routine? The blush on your cheeks continued to glow brighter as his eyes bore deep into your own, like he was searching for an answer to a question that only you held the answer to. He must admit that your shy side made you look so cute. Each second that passed was more intimate than the last and you so wished that he’d tell you what the hell was up with him already because your inadvertent breath-holding from the close proximity was making you light-headed. This felt like one of those scenes in those corny dramas that Minho watches - was he about to… dare you say… kiss you…?

Then you figured Minho learned a thing or two in drama class because his serious persona flew out the window when he shook you roughly by the shoulders, but at least you could breathe freely again.

“You shouldn’t have to choose between me and someone you like ~!” he whined childishly. “If he doesn’t like you living here, and you really like him, I don’t want you to be stuck in the middle!”

“Minho, you idiot, you’re the sole reason I’m not homeless and dying on the street, so what the hell do you want me to do IF that ever happens!? Move out!?”

“Ah, I didn’t think about it that way…”

“Lee Minho,” you emphasized to the pouty boy. “If - if - I meet someone I like, and they don’t like that I’m living with two guys, then fine, I can understand that and feelings like that can easily change over time. But if he can’t understand that you’re my best friend, that I cherish our friendship more than anything, and thinks there’s something else going on, then that’s when I’ll dump him. So there’s no need for you to worry that I have to choose between those two, ok?”

Minho sighed once more, breathing out all his worries about you being alone forever and stuck being a hermit in his apartment. “Ok, I believe you.”

“God, you’re so weird! Since when did my love life matter to you?”

“We’re nearing graduation, _____. We’re not getting any younger! And look, we’re both STILL single as a pringle…”

“When you and I are twenty-five and alone, unemployed and rotting away in this very room, then that’s when we’ll cry about it. But for now, we gotta worry about graduating.”

“I know. I just want you to be happy ~” With crocodile tears in his big, curious eyes, he pulled you in for a bone-crushing hug. It reminded you of all the times you told him not to touch you because he was being too sappy or he was sweaty and proceeded to hug you tighter anyways. Those were the best hugs.

“Shut up, I am happy.”

“Good.”

“What about you, hm? What if a girl you like sees that I live here?”

“Easy - I’ll just say you’re the housekeeper.”

“… You’re going to make one dumb girl very happy one day.”

“You think so?” he asked sincerely. “You really think I could make someone happy one day?”

There weren’t enough words in the dictionary to tell Minho how much happiness and sunlight he brought into your life. From the minor inconveniences to the darkest days, Minho was always your only source of light. You were way too tired to even attempt to be cheesy with him and closed your eyes instead, relaxing into his tight hug and hoping sleep would find you sooner rather than later.

“I know so, Lee Know.”

You stayed in Minho’s arms while the hum of the television and rhythm of his heart lulled you to sleep. Your favorite boy was content with where he was - holding you in his arms and stroking your hair until you were asleep and you didn’t have to worry about school, moving out, and whether this was mutually platonic or anything but. He thinks that there’s no way that ordinary best friends could lay like this and not cause any sort of tension in between. Then again, you two were extraordinary at best, so maybe the standard rules didn’t apply. To an unknowing passerby, this scene might look like two people in love who couldn’t get enough of each other. If Changbin came to see this, he’d probably think the same thing.

In the end, Minho wouldn’t care what anyone thought if they saw. It didn’t matter because this just felt so… right.

He’ll question his tugging heartstrings some other time.

Minho ended up carrying your sleeping form to your room. After tucking you in and resisting the urge to crawl onto the open space beside you, he thinks to himself that he could get used to this.

There was no way you could get used to this.

For such a huge place, only one of the two bathrooms had a shower. Which seemed fine, right? Considering there were only three of you living there. But you totally forgot that you lived with two of the most high-maintenance men you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. Minho wasn’t as bad as Changbin because he didn’t spend an hour moisturizing his entire body and fixing his hair - he only took half an hour. But you know that weird thing guys do when they take a dump they take an extra half hour just to play phone games or scroll through social media? So think about it, two boys who are mildly-to-severely high maintenance took a total of almost three hours using the damn bathroom.

That wasn’t even the worst of it! Other than the night you told Minho you were moving in, you guys haven’t had any fast food since. The two of them were watching their weight and muscle progress together so their diet strictly cut out carbs and the good stuff which meant the fridge was filled with veggies and brown grains you couldn’t even pronounce.

And even then, that wasn’t the worst. The absolute worst was when Minho would text you or call you at nine on the dot every single night that you weren’t home at that time. First, he’d call, and half of the time you would answer, but when you didn’t, he’d spam your messages until you replied with a pin drop of your location.

Tonight was the last straw.

“Stop calling,” you scolded while walking home from the library.

“So Changbin and I are in the mood for pizza and we figured you wanted some. You must be tired of all the quinoa,” he explained, ignoring your scolding. “Where are you?”

What’s the best way to spook Minho but not to the point where he’d call the police and demand an amber alert?

“I can’t right now. I’m with a guy.”

There’s a slight pause on the other end and something that sounded like he dropped something on the floor. You can hear Changbin’s faint ‘bro, what the hell!’ in the background and Minho heard you stifle a giggle.

“What? A guy? Who?”

“No one you know. I’ll see you when I get home ~!”

“Wait -”

You hung up before Minho could get another word in and you instantly regretted it. Once Minho found out you were kidding, he was probably going to relieve you of your pizza privileges and force you to eat more quinoa as punishment. You would hate it initially, but if there was even a slight chance that this made your message to him to stop worrying and calling you all the time crystal clear, then you’d eat bowls upon bowls of it and get all the grains stuck between your teeth because that’s how worth it it’d be.

What the hell had gotten into him, anyways? He was never like this in high school. If anything, HE was the boy you’d sneak out with, doing dumb hooligan things with, and being too close for comfort with - he was the boy he was trying to protect you from. Not even your parents were this protective, but you had to give him credit for being so diligent.

You weren’t too far from home, so you left Minho’s texts all on read until you stepped through the door. Changbin wasn’t surprised in the least that you were joking, and Minho knew you couldn’t have possibly be truthful about that, either, but he stepped out the door and scanned the hallways just to make sure you weren’t actually with some creep. You took this moment to sneak a slice or three before Minho could hoard the whole pie.

“I can’t believe you fell for that,” you teased, cheeks filled with cheese.

“I can’t believe you would joke about that.”

“I can,” Changbin muttered.

“What made you guys buy pizza?”

“A man can only eat salads and white chicken for so long. We deserve this.”

“We all deserve this. I wasn’t even on a diet in the first place, I was forced into it.”

“Yeah, but you look great at least, so you’re welcome.”

“Whatever.”

Sure, there were a lot of inconveniences when it came to living with two dudes who annoyingly functioned the same, but you would take on this form of entertainment over television any day. So yeah, Minho was annoying like ninety percent of the time… but he was just being a good friend and worrying about you.

It was nice to be cared for once in a while. Minho was the only one who would go out of his way just for you. Whether it was picking you up in the middle of the night from some party to walk you home or scolding you harshly about how you should wear scarves more so you wouldn’t get sick while making you a hot bowl of soup made with love, he never made you feel like you were an inconvenience. This curfew thing was a little over the top, though.

Changbin went to his room after whining about being a law student and how hard it was that he had to wear a suit everyday to his internship, leaving you and Minho alone at the kitchen table. The kitchen was were you spent most of your time together, whether it was using the table to eat, play dumb board games, or as one big desk to study on. Tons of late-night studying, gossiping, and snacking were spent at this table with Minho sitting across from you every time.

“It’s been about a month since you moved in, right?” he asked, plucking a pepperoni off of your slice. “How do you like it so far?”

There’s a short silence in the air before you answered. It was a little worrying, so he kicked you under the table to make you answer faster. How dare you not immediately answer with anything other than ‘I fucking love it’? “Besides only having five minutes to shower every morning, forced to go vegetarian, and having a 9:00 PM curfew? It’s better than being homeless, that’s for sure.”

“Good.” Another short pause, followed by Minho shyly avoiding eye contact. “It’s a lot of fun having you around.”

“Really? I don’t scare any poor souls you try to bring home?”

“To be honest, I haven’t been trying.”

“Whoa, Minho the slut taking a hiatus!?” you teased, earning you a crumpled napkin to the face.

“Shut up.”

“Why the sudden disinterest?”

His shoulders did a tiny shrug as if letting you know that even he was unsure of why. He hoped you’d help him find the answer. “No one catches my eye these days, I guess.”

“You’re such a liar.”

“It’s true!”

“Yeah, ok…”

“Well, what about you, huh? Has your boy-crazy self found someone interesting?”

You take a big, defeated bite into the leftover crust, allowing you to exploit your anger through vigorous chewing. Your efforts have obviously gone to a waste. “You and Changbin always like to remind me that I’m single.”

“I simply asked if you found anyone hot.”

“You know what’s sad? I haven’t…”

“Ah, I see - Changbin and I made your standards too high now, huh?”

“Both of you are probably stashing the hot guys in the gym somewhere because you know I won’t find them.”

“Damn, you caught us.”

“You know what else is sad, though?” Minho had to suffer and watch you sip your cola with your sad, pouty lips. It wasn’t that he felt bad, or anything, you just looked so… self-pitying. He’s seen this look way too often during your first year of college when some other chick would swoop in a steal the guy you had your eyes on. “Even if I did like someone, I don’t think I would act on it.”

“Why the hell would you cockblock yourself like that?”

“I’ve never been on a legitimate date before!”

“You’re such a damsel. You’ve totally been on a date before.”

“Senior prom with Hyunjin doesn’t count.”

“You guys had dinner and some dancing, doesn’t that count?”

You ignored your idiot friend’s justification and would much rather feel sorry for yourself than to consider prom as a legitimate date. You’re what, nearly into your twenties now and have gone this long without a guy properly asking you out on a date, maybe a movie and eating dinner at a nice restaurant with a small bouquet of flowers next to you, and ending the night with a kiss? The thought of your inadvertent abstinence made you want to chug a bottle of something strong.

“Do we still have that bottle of wine lying around?” you muttered, searching every corner of the kitchen. “Aha! Found it.”

“Mm, pizza and old wine. How are you single again? You’re so classy.”

“Do you want a glass or not?”

“… Hand it over.”

So another night was spent drinking and drowning your sorrows away while Minho watched - what else was new? Before, he didn’t think much of these nights, considering they were spent with Changbin also who drank just as much as you did, but Minho hadn’t even finished his first glass yet when you were already pouring your third. You must have been really going through it.

“Ok, I think that’s enough,” Minho scolded, taking the glass away. Clumsily and lazily, you reached out to take it back, but your state of mind was too loopy for you to fight back further. God, your tolerance had gone down significantly as time passed. Was this indication that you were getting old?

“Is this how you’re going to act on your first date at dinner while having several glasses of wine?” the mean boy across teased. “Good luck with that.”

“That’s ok, I’m never going on a first date, anyways.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because who would want to date me?”

“Hey.”

Your eyes are droopy and you feel like you could pass out from the drowsiness of the wine at any second, but Minho’s hand on top of yours snaps you awake. There were plenty of ways you and Minho shared skinship, like hugging, wrestling, high-fiving, and punching each other, but hand-holding was not one of them. It was… weird. You know when cats sometimes put their tiny paws on top of human hands? This was what it reminded you of and you had to hold in your laughter.

“Don’t say that stuff about yourself, only I can do that.”

“Well, there has to be a reason why I haven’t been on a date yet. It’s because I’m unlovable, right? Besides, I wouldn’t know what to do if I was on a real date. Like what do we talk about? The weather? That’s what adults talk about, right?”

“Yeah, if you work a nine-to-five at an accounting firm. You really are kind of hopeless, aren’t you? That’s ok, you and I can practice.”

“Practice?”

“Yeah, practice on me. Pretend you and I are on a date.” Minho left his seat across from you to steal Changbin’s seat that was to your right. The proximity of your bodies was so close that your knees knocked together, but your tipsy best friend was too distracted by your challenge to care. “A~and boom, we’re on a date.”

“Right now?”

“Right now. Look, we got our glasses of wine on hand, some dinner, we could even watch a movie if you want. But first thing’s first, we gotta test out your communication skills. What kind of things would you ask or talk about on your date?”

“I guess… What do you major in -?”

“Pause, red flag number one: never talk about school. Next question.”

“U-Uh, what kind of music do you like…?”

“Better. Let’s pretend that I’m some snobby older rich dude and I say, ‘oh, today’s music doesn’t interest me. I prefer classical music such as Bach and Beethoven, you know?’”

“I would never go on a date with someone so pompous and old.”

“Ok, but let’s say you’re dating this guy for money.”

“Minho!”

“At the rate this fake date is going, this is what your future dates are going to look like, _____! I’m just helping you prepare!”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but… you’re so right. I’m gonna end up as a sugar baby and I’ll be too hyped up about the influx in my bank account that I’ll drop out of college and make this my career!”

“Whoa, I didn’t say that -”

“I can’t believe this is what all my hours in the library have amounted to! Screw good grades, if I can’t find love, then what’s the point! This is it - this is how my life is really going to be like -!”

What Minho said goes in one ear and out the other as both of your hands are tangled in the mess of your hair and your blood pressure is suddenly through the roof. You were making a huge deal out of this fake date but you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t make a huge deal out of nothing! If this was how you were on a fake date, Minho doesn’t want to know how you’d be on a real date.

The first thing you hear is his boyish laugh as he removed your hands from your head before you could tear out your hair. You look like you have a bird nest on both sides of your pouty face and even though Minho thought you were being ridiculous, you still looked cute regardless. His tiny but warm hands smoothen your messy strands before holding your face. It’s hard to look him in the eyes after your mini breakdown and he didn’t make it easier by the way his thumbs caressed your cheeks. Was he doing this on purpose because he liked to see you squirm? You didn’t think so when you finally looked up.

Minho didn’t have his signature sly smile where the corners of his lips curled like a cheshire cat. There was no teasing twinkle in his eyes that normally accompanied it, either. Both were softer, like he couldn’t understand why someone as charming, intelligent, and hilarious as you could constantly worry about finding someone who would love you back. How could someone not, when you had the stars in your eyes after spotting a dog across the street, when you could sing an entire concert setlist in the shower, or when you had the cute sad look on your face after you burned your third pancake? Even now, in your tipsy and sad state, your eyes still sparkled and begged to be loved - exactly like all the cute puppies you spotted on your walks with Minho. The thought of someone NOT falling head over heels for you sounded completely ridiculous.

Before his heart could drop to the pit of his stomach, Minho broke the intimacy by squishing your cheeks so hard that your lips puckered like a fish.

“Stop being so sad,” he said sternly.

“Just like that, the sadness is gone,” you sputtered sarcastically, careful not to spit in Minho’s eye.

“I mean it. You’ll find someone who loves you just as much as you love them. No, you’ll find someone who loves you more.”

“How do you know…?”

“Because I’m Lee Know, remember?”

His cocky smirk returned and the corners of his lips curled adoringly. It was a smile you were more accustomed to and you’d never admit it aloud, but you liked this one much better. Soft Minho was kind of gross.

“You’re intelligent, selfless, sometimes funny, and life would be so exciting to be in love with you. I promise you’ll find someone.”

“… Tell me I’m pretty.”

“Wow, I put so much heart into my speech and that’s all you got out of it!? That I didn’t call you pretty!?”

“All of that doesn’t matter if I’m not cute.”

Minho squeezed your cheeks a bit harder. “Nevermind, you’re hopeless.”

“Ow ok, I’m kidding! Can you let go of my face now!? You know I bruise easily!”

He released his hold on your face and you tried to circulate the blood that pooled up. Minho usually wasn’t good with these types of talks, but something must have changed after high school. What kind of classes was he taking that he was being so poetic to the point that your heart felt like it was fluttering? Must be the bit of wine left in your bloodstream.

Even so, you were thankful. What would you do without your handsome Prince?

“I guess I’ll try to sleep the hopelessness away,” you sighed. Before heading off to your room, you wrapped your arms tightly around your best friend’s neck from behind and pressed your rosy cheek to his own. Normally, he’d let out a grossed-out groan, but tonight he returned the gesture with his hands on top of yours. “I love you, you know that, right?”

His chest ached. “Mhm. Love you, too, pretty girl. Sweet dreams.”

“You too, my Prince. Don’t stay up too late.”

The sound of your door closing triggered an empty silence in the entire apartment. Not a single sound is heard other than Minho’s beating heart that felt like it was blasting in his ears. Now he’s alone sitting at the dining table, downing the last of his wine and all he could think about was your lack of presence and how it lingered casually all around him. He could still feel your cheeks in his hands, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and the way the warmth of your cheek heated up his own. That wasn’t enough - he wanted more of you, but that was for a later time even he couldn’t predict. After cleaning up the table and trying to leave those moments in the dining room, they ended up following him to his bed until he was too tired to stay awake thinking about them.

That night, you ended up dreaming about Prince Minho and what it was like to be by his side forever.

It didn’t seem so bad.

There’s this crazy phenomenon that happened to you too many times to count, but this time had to take the cake. There were times when you’d have dreams about not necessarily random people, but people you didn’t normally associate yourself with. Like an old coworker, or a past partner for that one single assignment, or even that one time the guy next to you asked you to borrow a pencil for an exam. They would appear in your dreams at random with no purpose other than to play as your boyfriend, but the morning you wake up, you had this sudden weird… attraction towards them.

Maybe attraction wasn’t exactly the right word, but the moment they stepped into the room, you could feel your face heat up and your palms sweat and it really made you question your type in men because why was your body reacting so sensitively to seeing someone who literally just asked you for a pencil? Maybe this was why you’ve been single for so long…

Now let it be reminded that you’re having these weird, little crushes on guys you practically considered strangers. But now, for the first time in your entire life - in all your years knowing that stupid, handsome idiot, you had your very first dream about Minho. If you acted like a fool in front of strangers, how did you act around your best friend? Let’s just say you didn’t know how to act… or rather, you did what you do best - make things like ten times more awkward than they should be.

What did you do when Minho woke up in the morning with his stupidly cute bedhead and flopped on the couch next to you muttering a soft and gentle ‘good morning ~’? You got up and ran to your room after returning the greeting with a squeaky voice. What did you do when he would wrap his arm around your shoulder in that sly, boyish way that literally meant nothing? You’d run to the bathroom, whether you were at home or out in public.

And what did you do when he would walk out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel around his waist? You literally ran. You went to your room, put on your workout gear, and you ran - ran as far as your legs could take you with your ears blasting music to drown out any thoughts about your best FRIEND.

With his heart sinking, Minho didn’t know what to do.

“Hey, have you seen _____ these past few days?” he asked Changbin sometime around dinner. He knew your schedule like the back of his hand and he made sure he gave himself enough time to ask Changbin for his opinion before you came home.

“Yeah…? I see her like everyday. She lives here, too, you know.”

“I know, but she seems a little distant lately, right?”

“Mm, not with me,” the buff boy shrugged casually. His once unquestioning expression quickly turned into something sly when he realized what kind of situation Minho was in. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!”

“That’s not what it looks like to me.”

“The last thing we did together for more than five minutes was eat pizza and drink wine and that was last week.”

“Did anything happen after drinking wine? We all know how you get when you drink…”

“Mm… she was moping about how she’s never going to go on a date, or something, and then I told her she doesn’t have to worry.”

“Why doesn’t she have to worry?”

It was then that Minho figured maybe this was the reason why you were avoiding him. Shyly, the older boy avoided the teasing gaze from his close friend. “N-No reason.”

“Is it because you told her how wonderful she is? Or how funny, and smart, and how all men were idiots for not falling head over heels for her ~?”

“Shut up.”

“I bet you called her pretty, too.”

“Ok, she made me say that!”

“God, no wonder she’s avoiding you! You probably made her fall head over heels for you, or something!”

“… You really think so?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound too hopeful at the idea.

Thankfully, Changbin didn’t seem to catch it. “If I heard that kind of corny stuff coming from you, I’d react the same way, to be honest.”

The sound of the door unlocking made both boys jump and quickly drop the subject, but not without Changbin shooting Minho a ‘we’ll discuss this later’ glance that reminded him of his dad whenever he got in trouble. For the first time that week, you didn’t sprint to your room right away. Rather, with a cheeky grin on your lips, you joined the two boys who eyed you suspiciously at the dining table.

“What?” you asked innocently.

“Nice to finally see you for more than five minutes,” Minho pouted childishly.

“Aw, you miss me ~?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Why are you so smiley, missy?” the smaller, more suspicious boy squinted.

“I can’t be happy on this fine Thursday?”

“No.”

“Fine, you downer. I’m super stoked because guess who has a date tomorrow ~?”

A short silence fell at the table. The first ten seconds of silence was so the two idiots could process what you just said. The following ten seconds was just a series of different ugly facial expressions from thinking about the question too hard.

“Did Seungmin finally ask that one person out? He’s been talking about it for months, he won’t shut up,” Changbin asked.

“No, not him…”

“Woojin? He’s not really the dating type, though.”

“No, idiot, me! I have a date tomorrow!”

“With who?” Minho finally asked. Of course he knew you were the one with the date, but he didn’t want to believe it until you said it. The rest of the conversation didn’t matter after you told him who it was.

“This guy named Wooyoung in one of my classes. We worked on a project together sometime last year and I just found him in lecture the other day. Small campus, huh? We caught up this past week and he asked me out just now after walking me home. Ah, I can’t believe it!”

Your smile was bright and so big that Minho could hardly see your eyes. He couldn’t recall a time when you were this excited for something since you and him both got accepted to this school. He was happy to see you like this, despite the circumstances. With your eyes all sparkly and cheeks blushed pink, the bit of aching was worth it.

“Oh, I know Wooyoung!” Changbin had a goofy smile when he saw how disappointed you looked. “His dad and my dad are close friends and we got close by coincidence.”

“Aw man, you know him!? I wanted to date someone not within this weird circle of friends!”

“He’s not! He’s like a little bubble outside of the circle.”

“Whatever… he’s nice and rich, at least.”

“Now I know where your priorities lie. Minho, what do you think?”

“Hm?” You raised a curious brow at your spacey friend. Minho had been in his own little world after blocking out the details of how you ended up with a date tomorrow night. He put on a fake smile so you wouldn’t have to worry. “I don’t know Wooyoung, but I’m happy for you.”

“I’m kind of scared… what if I blow it like our fake date?”

“Good thing it was fake, right?” The handsome boy across from you ruffled your hair into a bird’s nest style - much like how it was last week. You were a mess, but you were his pretty little mess. “Don’t sweat it. You’ll do just fine.”

“Yeah, Wooyoung may be rich, but his standards aren’t that high - ow! What the hell, dude!” he whined, rubbing his bruising shin.

“You two are so mediocre when it comes to these pep talks… but thank you. I’m so excited that my cheeks hurt because I can’t stop smiling!”

Minho watched you hide your heated face in your hands. He hoped you’d smile like this for a long time, even if he wasn’t the reason behind it.

If the boys were allowed a collective three hours in the bathroom nearly every damn morning, you were allowed three hours to yourself once this evening. You practically put on a spa for yourself in preparation for this. Every centimeter of your body was exfoliated and moisturized, every strand of hair fixed in its place, and every eyelash was coated with mascara. Not to mention that your outfit didn’t have a single wrinkle to be seen.

“Not gonna lie, you look pretty decent,” Changbin admitted while leaning on the doorframe. “Expecting some dessert tonight, if you know what I mean?”

“You think I’ll let it go that far on my very first date? Who do you think I am!”

“A touch-starved damsel.”

“… Shut up.” At 7:00 pm on the dot, you received a text from Wooyoung that he’s here. “Ah, gotta go!”

Like you would on a Monday morning already late for class, you shoved all of your essentials in a bag and scurried for the door, but not before Minho came out of his room and caught you. After putting on your nice shoes, you finally looked up to stare back at your wide-eyed, jaw-dropped friend. The only other time he ever looked at you like that was prom night, and even though you were glammed up times ten that night, his face tonight was more intense. The sudden waves of confusion and erratic heartbeat skips reminded you of why you accepted to go on the date so quickly in the first place: to get rid of these weird feelings for your best friend that you couldn’t understand.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you whined. “Too much? Or too little?”

Perfect. “No, no. You look fine.”

“Really?”

“I promise. You got everything you need?”

“Uh, wallet, keys, phone…”

“Condom?”

“Minho!!”

“Just kidding! Be sure to practice abstinence because I’m not letting some guy come into our apartment just so you can do THAT.”

“Don’t worry, he has his own place.” He knew you were joking… kind of… you were joking, right…? “I’m kidding.”

“You better be… Don’t forget, curfew’s at 9:00 pm.”

“Ok, I’ll see you at 2:00 am ~!”

You did a final wave goodbye before heading out the door to forget all about Minho while he was stuck being a boring homebody. He heard his other, more irritating roommate tisk annoyingly from across the room.

“Shoulda said something ~” Changbin sang.

“What is there to say?”

“Baby, don’t leave! Why go out with a boy when you can go out with a MAN like me?”

“Oh, my God, I don’t really sound like that, do I?”

“Only sometimes.”

So while you were off on your date, smiling at him like no one else in the world could matter more, Minho would glue his ass to the couch and wait for you to come home.

Your first date was both exactly and the complete opposite of how you expected it to be - quite awkward, but it gradually melted into something you would best describe as comfortable. It didn’t feel very date-like. It felt more like you were eating dinner with a very handsome friend. You could easily see why all of your friends were jealous that you were on this date. Wooyoung was so easy to talk to and just his stare alone, he could get anyone to fall in love with him just like that.

A moment like this, when he’s laughing at your corny joke or fixing a loose strand of hair, was when you truly wished cupid would shoot a thousand arrows into your heart at one time with Wooyoung’s name on the heart-shaped head. That itself would solve about 75 percent of your problems. But it was too late, for your heart already had a hundred thousand arrows lodged in with no way of taking them out, and every single one had Minho’s stupid name on them.

Your date ended earlier than expected which was a little after midnight when his friend San called him in some party-related emergency. Of course you understood, as you’ve experienced being that friend one too many times, and he bid you a farewell with a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“Let’s do this again sometime,” he suggested.

“I’d love that!” Though it probably wasn’t going to happen.

During the walk home, you took the time to reflect on everything that went wrong tonight. Fifteen minutes in, and you couldn’t figure out why your heart didn’t beat for Wooyoung. Passers-by gave you a strange look as you passed because of how your face twisted in confusion, but they went unnoticed because now you actually had to deal with your feelings for Minho straight on.

When did this all start exactly? Like when did the first arrow lodge itself in your right ventricle? Was it in middle school when he stopped those bullies? Was it during your last year in high school when he hugged you so tight, crying tears of joy when the team won the championship basketball game? Maybe it was during your first college party when he held your hair up while you puked into the toilet, but you knew there was no way this all happened because of one silly dream… Maybe your feelings were there all along.

The saying goes when it rains, it pours, right? Tonight, that phrase is both hypothetical and literal.

In a matter of seconds, the skies cried heavily with no thunder or lightning to be heard or seen. On this warm night alone, you were getting soaked to the bone with little-to-no-coverage. You didn’t pack an umbrella and for some reason, even the store awnings couldn’t give you shelter very well, so your only option was to take off your pretty much-ruined nice shoes and sprint home barefoot and that’s exactly what you did.

Minho liked the rain. It was calming, but only added to the lonely ambiance on this fine Friday evening. From inside, he watched the city glow different colors as the light reflected off of the rain droplets and this was when he thought the city looked the most beautiful. He could fall asleep at any moment just to the sound of the rain.

Minho’s apartment is so high up that it’s difficult to see the details in in peoples’ faces and clothes as they walked the streets, but it was easy to spot the little speck running towards his building a couple of blocks away. No one else for blocks on end could be seen other than the tiny speck running. He didn’t have to see your face to know that it was you running home because you didn’t have an umbrella. Not that he’s not happy to see you home, but why were you here so early? And alone, for that matter? Did that Wooyoung guy ditch you?

“Idiot,” Minho mumbled grumpily before grabbing his umbrella and making his way to you.

By the time he reached the lobby, he thought he’d see you inside by now, but that wasn’t the case and he was starting to get a little worried. He didn’t waste time running out the building and immediately he spotted you taking a breather under the big coffee shop awning. You’re completely soaked as if you took a dip in the ocean, strands of hair clinging to your rosy cheeks, and your shoes in your hand…? You’re barefoot, feet all cut up and a little bruised. Without looking at your face, a stranger could say that you were having a bad night, but even Minho knew that wasn’t exactly the case. You didn’t look disappointed or anything near that.

You must have enjoyed the date.

A huge shadow blocked the streetlight from your body and a pair of Minho’s beat up dance shoes are in your eyesight. Tiredly, but happily, you look up to a stern-faced crush who held an umbrella over his head.

“‘Sup,” you greeted casually.

“Let’s go, you’re gonna get sick,” he muttered.

Neither of you said a word until you reached your shared home, and Minho didn’t bother to give you a second glance until then, too. After carelessly tossing his umbrella near the pile of shoes, he found his spot on the couch again.

“You should shower.”

“Right…”

Still, he didn’t give you the time of day, and it hurts. From your cut-up feet to your pounding headache, everything just hurts, and your entire body was ready to crawl under your sheets and call it a night. But you obeyed, taking a long, hot shower to wash away all the wrongs that happened tonight.

When you were done, Minho had a first-aid kit ready in his hands. He didn’t seem as angry as earlier - now he just looked worried.

“Sit,” he commanded nicely.

Of course you obeyed like a misbehaved puppy walking to its cage. Nervously, you sat on the couch while Minho sat on the floor. Before you could ask what he was doing, he had already grabbed one foot to inspect for major cuts.

“You don’t need to do that - ah, hey!” The concerned boy wasn’t listening when he dabbed a cotton swab soaked in disinfectant over a single super small cut on your foot… that was bleeding… a lot. “That stings, bro!”

“Good, that means it’s working. Now sit still.” He put a tiny bandaid over the clean cut and when he thought he was all finished, he held both of your ankles in his hand. “Why is one bigger than the other? Is it swollen?”

“I may have tripped once… or twice…”

An aggravated sigh left Minho’s pink lips before he grabs the bandage to wrap around your swollen ankle. After neatly wrapping around once, the rest of the wrapping was done by yanking the bandage until you felt the blood flow cut off at that point.

“Ow ow!! Chill, Minho, you’re hurting more than helping!”

After realizing what he’d been doing, Minho halted, muttering a soft ‘sorry’ before re-wrapping your ankle with more love and care.

“Why were you alone tonight?” he asked out of the blue.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean why wasn’t your date walking you home like he should? Doesn’t he know it’s common courtesy to do so?”

“Ah, well he had an emergency to attend to.”

“Still… He just left you to run home in the rain, and look what happened. Also, why the hell were your shoes off!?”

“I didn’t want to ruin them…”

The inside of his cheek was starting to numb from all the inherent chewing. At this point, Minho was tired, and you probably were, too. What was the point in arguing?

“Don’t date that guy,” he demanded.

“Why not?”

“You shouldn’t be dating someone who leaves you in the middle of a date. Was it even a real emergency?”

“It was at the end of a date. But no, not a REAL real emergency…”

“Still, he left you, and look how you ended up.” Another sigh left his lips. “I don’t like him, _____.”

“I know.” When Minho finally looked up, he saw that you were smiling at him. You’re not angry or upset by the way he was acting, and he’s really surprised. What was going through your mind? “You don’t have to worry. I don’t think there’s going to be another date.”

Good. “How come?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t have that ‘I can’t wait to see you again’ type of feeling like I thought I would. I guess I wasn’t that into him.”

The shy boy below you cleared his throat hoping you wouldn’t see how relieved he was. “Oh, that’s good.”

“What happened to you wanting me to be happy with some guy?” you teased, lightly kicking his arm.

“I still do. Just not with him.”

“Mm. Maybe the next one will work out better.”

“Yeah… the next one.”

Minho finished wrapping up your ankle and went to stash the first aid kit in his room. You happily followed your confidant slash magical healer and he wasn’t complaining. In fact, he hid his growing smile so you wouldn’t see.

“I had a weird dream last night,” you said after flopping on his king-sized mattress.

“Tell me about it.”

“You were in it as a Prince.”

“Hm, doesn’t sound so weird to me.”

“I was right beside you the whole time.”

“Ooh, tell me more.” Minho hopped on right beside you and the two of you laid side-by-side as you told your fairytale. “Were you my Princess? My sidepiece mistress? The cook’s daughter I fell in love with? Oh, or were we betrothed to unite two kingdoms together?”

“Dude, I don’t know…”

“God is in the details, baby. What else happened?”

“That’s all I could remember. You were a Prince who smiled everyday and I was right there the whole time.”

“I probably smiled all the time ‘cuz you were next to me.”

To play it off as playful, the boy only a couple centimeters beside you nudged you several times. It was hard for him to keep up the facade when you said,

“I was probably next to you the whole time because of your smile.”

Now what was he to do? Subconsciously, Minho turned on his side to face you. With your cheeks and the tip of your nose a baby pink, you refused to look at him. Maybe you were getting sick.

“What, you like my smile, or something?”

“Have I ever told you it makes me feel safe?”

“Safe? Why?”

“It lets me know I have nothing to worry about - that I’m going to be just fine.”

The ceiling must have been very interesting. You have yet to look at him and though he wanted you to, he hopes you don’t, otherwise the magnetic pull between your lips might be too strong for him to resist. He wondered what you tasted like.

“I’m glad I make you feel that way.”

The world felt at peace again when he returned to his position on his back. As if the roof did not exist above, the two of you laid on his bed and pretended to count the stars. Minho’s hand blindly found its way to yours and the tiny bumps and touches of his fingertips made goosebumps travel up your arms. The handsome, confusing boy traced tiny stars in the back of your hand.

“Did you like your dream?” he finally asked.

“You mean did I like being stuck with you for eternity?”

“Yeah.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

His shy giggle filled the empty spaces of his room, and yours soon followed.

“Neither would I.”

An eternity together wouldn’t be so bad.

The spot beside you on Minho’s bed felt empty. You must have knocked out the night before, too tired to crawl back to your cave of a room, and ended up sleeping next to him the whole night. Either last night’s date was exhausting or you didn’t want to leave Minho or his bed because you slept in so late that he had already got up for the day.

Changbin was eating cereal in front of the television when you finally left the room.

“Whoa, what the hell,” he smirked, not knowing that’s where you slept last night. “Did something happen that I don’t know about?”

“No, idiot. We were talking and we fell asleep. Where is he, anyways?”

“Either at the gym or running errands or both.”

“Ah, ok…” If you knew Minho like you thought you did, then maybe he’s at the gym, but running errands? The hell kind of errands did he have? You were the one who ran all the house-related errands.

“You goin’ out tonight?”

“Can’t. Huge paper I have to work on.”

“C'mon, it’s Jeongin’s birthday! And Minho’s going ~”

Your cheeks burned from his teasing. “So? I’ll literally fail if I don’t get a good grade on this assignment.”

“Fine, you bookworm…”

So that’s what you did - you became a homebody for the day and hermitted in your room to work on that cursed paper. It was hard to focus when all you could think about was going out tonight with Minho. If you went, would you stick by his side the whole time? Would he drag you to the dance floor and hold you close? Would the alcohol take over and close the gap between your lips?

Let’s pretend the answer was yes to all of the above.

You didn’t see him for the entire day. Not for lunch, or dinner, or when he finally came home and hopped in the shower, or when he got ready in ten minutes, or even when he and Changbin left for the party. No texts or calls, either.

He was avoiding you at all costs.

Ugh, dammit, _____! Why did you sleep in his bed last night!? Ok, to be completely fair, he was sending you mixed signals that everything was fine, you know? He smiled after you told him how it made you feel safe, those little touches and whispers, literally agreeing to how life beside each other 'til you both grew old and wrinkly would be ideal… Why would you want to leave his side on the bed after all of that?

Boys were confusing, you knew that. Maybe you just misread the signs.

Minho felt like his heart was collapsing. Waking up beside you made this morning the best he’s ever had. You were so sleepy and so cute… All he wanted to do was press little kisses all on your forehead.

But no, he couldn’t do that. You just happened to fall asleep here with no real purpose. It’s not like he was going to wake you up and tell you to move? But did that make him selfish for wanting you to stay when you didn’t intend to? Maybe, so that’s why he had to slip out of the apartment before you woke up.

In the morning, he ran for a couple of hours. Then he went to lift weights. Then he ate and wasted time around town until it was time to get ready for Jeongin’s birthday. Nothing he did made it easier for him to forget about you and the night before. He’ll just use this opportunity of free booze to help him with that.

After successfully slipping in to get ready and out for a night of festivities, he thought that avoiding you for the whole day only made him miss you more.

“You’re not gonna do anything stupid tonight, are you?” Changbin asked.

“No promises.”

Well, no promises was right, because as soon as the two stepped into Chan’s place, Minho weaved his way through the crowd of strangers and went straight for the alcohol table. There, Chan was serving the jungle juice.

“Hey, you made it!” he greeted them, but his grin dropped when he saw the distressed look on Minho’s face. “Yikes, rough night?”

“You have no idea,” Changbin answered for him while he chugged the sweet drink.

He held the solo cup out to his concerned friend. “More.”

“Uh-oh…” Chan didn’t disobey.

For a while, Minho was fine on his own while Changbin was off doing God knows what to some poor soul. He socialized here and there, greeted the totally incoherent birthday boy, and even flirted his way around for the sake of distraction. When something new didn’t seem to work, he’d down another shot, and by the time it was 2:00 am, Minho could barely stand on his own.

“Oh, son of a - are you kidding me!?” Changbin groaned after seeing his poor roommate passed out on Chan’s couch.

“Should I call an Uber…?” Jisung asked.

“Nah, I have a cheaper solution.”

At 2:03 am, while you were munching on some chips and crying to some Miyazaki movie, Changbin’s name lit up your phone.

“Yo.”

“How much do you love your roommates?”

“On a scale of one to ten? Four and a half.”

“Can you cash in that four and a half and pick us up from Chan’s place ~?” the whiny boy begged. “Minho is being insufferable! He keeps drinking everything in site!”

That did not sound good… Minho got very, uh, unbearable when he wasn’t himself. You felt your headache come back and your blood pressure fly through the roof.

“But I don’t have a car.”

“The keys to the Audi are hanging by the door.”

“What the - he has a car!?”

“No, his uncle has a car. Just don’t tell him we’re using it. Hurry, before he gets outta hand - NO, DON’T LET HIM DRINK THAT -!!”

The line cut out and the dial tone rang in your ears for a solid five seconds before you could process what Changbin was asking of you. So you were supposed to grab the keys to an expensive Audi, drive to Chan’s house, pick up your incompetent roommates, and somehow end up back home alive? Well, all right…

The key to the car wasn’t actually a key… It was just a remote. The car was hidden in the corner of the underground garage and if you weren’t being careful, someone could honestly kidnap you at any moment and no trace of the kidnapping would be seen. The Audi was very beautiful, all white and shiny like it was brand new. The interior was pitch black with red stitching, tons of fancy buttons normal cars didn’t really have, and a button for the ignition. You prayed to whatever Lord was listening that it was Automatic because you had zero idea how to handle Manual.

The drive wasn’t that far, but it was far for a walk, so no wonder Changbin called you for assistance. After texting him that his personal, beautiful Uber driver had arrived, you were left with your erratic thoughts about how you were going to handle seeing Minho for the first time since last night. Would it be awkward? Maybe on your end because you were sober enough to remember everything, but maybe his drunken state would ease up the atmosphere.

Your love life sucked. Your crushes never worked out in the end, your first date ended up mediocre, and now you fell for your best friend. You were in denial for the most part, thinking that maybe this was just a coping mechanism for all your failures and that Minho was the only real man to ever care about you, so of course you fell for someone like him. But that wasn’t it, was it? Minho wasn’t made to be your security blanket when all else failed. Maybe all else failed because he was the one all along. Fate always had a weird way of playing with you.

A loud thump in the back seat shook you from your thoughts.

“Sorry, he’s very heavy and I got tired,” Changbin said as he sat in the front seat.

Looking back, you saw a passed out Minho curled up on the seats.

“Jeez, that kind of night, huh?” Did you do that to him…? Was this because of last night…?

“Yeah… you wouldn’t believe the shit he was saying -”

“_____, is that you?” he asked cutely.

“Hey there,” you giggled. “How are you feeling?”

“I miss you ~”

“Huh?”

“Bro, he would not shut up the entire night! _____ this, _____ that, I was honestly so happy that he passed out on the couch because for those ten minutes, I could hear my own thoughts again. Can you two figure out whatever sexual tension you guys are having -”

“Changbin!”

“What!? I’m tired of living with you two!”

“Move out then!”

“No way, I was there first!!”

“Stop yelling,” the poor, drunk boy whined, moving up so his face was in between yours and a pouty Changbin. Minho turned to you all giggly and smiley like a kid in a candy shop and poked your cheek. “I miss you ~”

Of course you did, too. “I miss you, too, dork.”

“I have something I want to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll tell you when we get home, I’m sleepy.” And he was out like a light once more.

“What the hell…”

“Chan’s jungle juice, man. It’s magical,” Changbin tisked.

It took two small adults to carry one Minho all the way from the parking lot, to the lobby, to the elevator, and then finally to the door. You’d think with all the working out Changbin did that he could handle the unconscious boy all on his own, but Minho was very muscley… A lot more than you remembered. From supporting his back and abs and having his arm around your shoulder, you could feel every crevice of his taut muscles that you should definitely not be thinking about at a time like this. He was fine to support himself by the time the door opened, and Changbin happily let go of him to go to the bathroom, something about ‘needing to piss really bad.’

Before you could fathom that you were left alone with a loosey goosey Minho, he had already grabbed onto your hand and pulled you into his chest. His arms wrapped tightly around you so you couldn’t escape, but it wasn’t like you were going to, anyways. With his cheek resting on your forehead, you felt safe.

“I miss you ~” he repeated in his sing-songy voice.

“What are you doing?” you muffled into his chest.

“Showing and telling you how much I love you.”

“Wait, what -”

“In fact, let me show and tell the whole world!”

How Minho was able to run to the balcony and not trip and fall flat on his face was a mystery to you. The weird boy literally swung open the door and breathed in the fresh air before screaming into the night,

“I LOVE _____!”

Still inside, feet glued to where Minho first told you he sincerely loves you, you were shocked as the man you loved screamed at the top of his lungs to the city below.

“I LOVE YOU ~!” he screamed once more.

“Oh, my God.”

You sighed tiredly, though your growing smile wasn’t fooling anyone. Reluctantly, you made your way to the balcony to bring in the boy you loved before he lost his voice. After screaming a couple more times, he tuckered himself out and leaned over the edge of the railing.

“You’re going to fall!” you lectured, pulling him back up. That was a bit of a mistake on your end though, because now he used you as his means of support and coddled you tightly like you were his own personal teddy bear.

“I love you, _____,” he said perfectly like there wasn’t a drop of alcohol in his system.

“Minho, you’re drunk.”

He held you tighter. “Do you wanna hear a story? It’s called ‘The Day I Fell for You’.”

“Ok. Tell me all about it.”

“You were in art class and it was the pottery unit. You absolutely hated the mug you made, but I loved it. I told you to submit it for the art exhibit anyways. The following week at exhibition night, you won second place for the best pottery piece. When you went up to get your ribbon in front of all our other classmates and their parents, you only looked at me. You had the brightest smile on your face, and when I gave you a thumbs up, you glowed even brighter. I didn’t think that was even possible. Then when the awards were over, you ran up to me and hugged me so tight. Just like this. And my heart was beating so fast! Just like now, too. I never wanted to let you go, you know? And then when you let me keep your mug, it was all over from there.”

Ah, you remember that story perfectly, even if it was so long ago. Minho made you feel like you could fly without wings.

He hummed happily, enjoying the feeling of you in his arms. “It’s my favorite mug. I drink coffee out of it every morning.”

“I know, I’m the one who washes it…”

“_____, what do I do ~?” He broke the hug and the heart-wrenching moment to hold your face and squish your cheeks so hard your lips would pout. “What do I do ~? I love you and I want to kiss you so badly!”

“Eh!?”

“Just one kiss,” he begged, puckering his lips playfully.

“Ah, no, you weirdo!” you giggled, but you weren’t even fighting back.

“Just one, I promise.”

Before you could fake-object, his lips barely touched yours for a split second. They were soft, sent goosebumps all over your skin, and made sparks fly.

He giggled softly before leaning in again. “Ok, one more.”

“You said just one!”

“I got a taste and now I want more. This is your fault.”

“You sound like an addict.”

“Only for you, baby.”

So he kissed you once more. And again. And again. And then again for the tenth time. The eleventh time he made the kiss last a little longer. The fifteenth time was a kiss on your nose. The sixteenth, seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth were for your cheeks twice. The twentieth and the last was on your forehead, making your heart flutter like a little hummingbird.

"You taste like punch and tequila,” you gagged.

“Do you like it ~?”

“No!”

“Do you like me ~?”

“Only sometimes. But I guess I love you all other times. Luckily, you probably won’t remember this in the morning.”

There’s a short silence afterwards, only the sounds of the wind blowing could be heard as Minho continued to hold you. “Loving me means you can’t get mad at me, right?”

“It means I’ll probably get mad at you more frequently. Why, what did you do…?”

“Nothing, I swear! I’m just… not as drunk as you think I am anymore…”

“Ah, so you’ll remember this in the morning…”

“Absolutely. If you rejected my screaming confession though, I would have still pretended to be drunk. Isn’t my plan so smart? I’m a genius, bro.”

“Mm, I wouldn’t say genius,” you teased.

“Whatever, you admitted you love me, that’s all that matters.”

“I only said it 'cuz you said it first. If you didn’t, I would have kept it to myself.”

“But why ~?”

“You left me this morning. I thought telling you my dream was a huge mistake and I scared you away.”

Your loving boy pressed a twenty-first kiss to your forehead. “I was scared, but not because of that. I was scared you would leave everything at that and wouldn’t think of me as anything but a friend.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m an emotional man, ok.”

“I know ~” you sighed happily. The night air was crisp and cool, but Minho kept you warm, as he always did. He was always there whenever you need him. “I love you, you know that?”

Minho took a long and dramatic breath in, pressing his expanding chest to yours and you kind of regret tell him you love him because from the top of his lungs, he screamed,

“I LOVE YOU!!”

“Minho, shut up!!!”

“I LOVE YOU, _____!!”

The rest of the night until the following morning was spent with Minho’s arms wrapped tightly around you. The only time he ever let you go was when you burned the pancakes and needed his help making more.

Minho, the dorky, annoying, loving, sweet, dumbass of a friend was now YOUR dorky, annoying, loving, sweet dumbass.

He wasn’t so bad.

[lady-divine-writes]

Need for Speed: New York - Chapter 3 (NC17)

Summary: It's been years since high school graduation, and Kurt and Blaine are living the lives of their dreams in New York City alongside their best friends, Nick and Jeff. Car racing behind them, they're working towards the future - Kurt and Jeff at NYADA, Blaine and Nick at NYU. But soon after moving from their tiny apartments to a bigger loft, bits and pieces of Ohio start to weed their way in to their lives - along with some New York grown angst, causing rifts that hopping behind the wheel of a Mustang might not be able to solve.

Read on AO3.

“Kurt? Are you doing all right over there?” Nick asked, straining under the weight of their new sofa - the sofa Kurt picked out and was infinitely proud to have found on clearance. The guys had decided collectively to give Kurt carte blanche with regards to decorating the communal rooms of the loft because - they had to face it - interior decorating was more his forte than theirs. If he didn’t become a Broadway star, he would definitely end up a designer.

Kurt’s eye for detail was exceptional.

If Blaine had his way, he’d bathe the entire place in leather and chrome. He’d even suggested it to Kurt once while he was sitting in bed mulling over fabric swatches. Kurt scolded him, told him to excel beyond his stereotype.

Blaine accused Kurt of being a philistine.

And then they fucked.

Jeff, on the other hand, would forgo the stress of furniture altogether in favor of maintaining the empty space. He wasn’t opposed to eating on the floor and often said that all he really needed to be comfortable was a bed and his boyfriend … and the bed was negotiable.

So with that and the chili pepper lights he bought for his and Nick’s room, he considered himself set.

If given the chance to decorate, Nick would probably end up making their loft look like Dalton Academy. Not on purpose. That’s what he was raised with, what home looked like - hard wood everything; tartan fabrics declaring fake provenance; fine China and collectible figurines locked behind glass; anything soft and comforting, like the couches and recliners, wrapped in plastic. Sanitized.

Protected from human touch.

Besides, between Blaine, Nick, and Jeff, not a one of them had the time nor the patience. So they pooled their money together, gave it to Kurt, and told him to have at it.

And he did.

Kurt ordered the sofa first because he said it would be the heart of the room - the thing that would bring all other design elements together. But placement was key. He’d already had Nick help him move it twice. He wanted it in the spot that got the most mid-afternoon sun, and seeing as it was delivered at eight in the morning, the movers put it in the wrong place.

Before the rest of the living room furniture arrived, this needed to be rectified.

“I’m alright,” Kurt replied, nudging his end forward, signaling Nick to move his end a little more to the left.

“Then what in the world are you grinning at?” After a third consecutive peek over at his friend, Nick noticed Kurt beaming at him like a proud parent watching their kid star as a tooth in a middle school play.

“Oh, nothing,” Kurt sang in that way that indicated it definitely was something. “It’s just nice to see you guys come up for air after violating our new loft for the past three days.”

Nick grunted, prepared to drop his end and call it quits if Kurt insisted on poking fun at him all day long. He’d made a comment when he woke up (Look who finally decided to join the land of the living!), before breakfast (Now tell me, before I plate, do I have to bleach the table first?), after breakfast (Must be nice eating something other than tube steak for once …), then just before his shower (I considered putting a black light light bulb in there, but I haven’t had the chance to steam clean and I’m afraid the place would light up like a Christmas tree!). It was all in good fun, Nick knew. He’d done the same to Kurt about a hundred times when they’d spend the night over at their place. He just … wasn’t in the mood.

He couldn’t say that to Kurt, though. He’d be walking right into the remark that would follow and would have no one to blame but himself.

But in a blink, Kurt’s smile dipped, and he became serious.

“Out of curiosity, in between all the screwing that was going on here, did you guys ever get the chance to talk about what’s been bothering you?”

Kurt stopped walking and lowered his end, and Nick took that as his cue to put his side down. He sighed in exhaustion. Not from moving the sofa. The sofa wasn’t that heavy. But this conversation might be. “Not exactly.”

“Nick …”

“There never seemed to be a right time.”

“Of course there’s never going to be a right time if you use sex to stall! Jeff takes his cues from you, and you know he’ll choose jumping on you like a trampoline over a heart-to-heart if that’s what he thinks you want!”

“It’s … it’s not just that.” Nick side-eyed the sofa, missing a few minutes ago when he was lugging it around and didn’t have to talk about this. “It’s that … I know what I’m feeling is stupid.”

“It’s not stupid, Nick.”

“Yes, it is!” Nick flopped onto the closest cushion, resting his forehead on the heels of his hands. “The things that I’m feeling, they’re more about how I see myself than about how Jeff sees me! I know that! But I can’t stop myself! Even before we started going out, I was always afraid I’d lose him to someone smarter … more talented … better looking ...” Nick’s eyes darted Kurt’s way after each superlative and Kurt felt them tug at his heart. There was a time after Kurt and Jeff became friends when Nick assumed Jeff liked Kurt. Like liked Kurt. Kurt knew that, felt guilty about it, and for a while, he was sure they might never become friends because of it. But look at them now. “And I’m afraid that if I talk to him about it, he’ll think I’m having doubts about him. A-about us. But it’s not about him or us. It’s about me. My sucky internship and my boring-ass classes and how absolutely uninspired and stuck I feel. I mean, that right there is the height of stupidity! Who the hell feels stuck in New York City? It’s the city of dreams! New York is supposed to be the place where anything can happen! It’s happening for you and for Blaine, and definitely for Jeff. So why isn’t it happening for me?”

“I don’t know, Nick,” Kurt said, sitting on the sofa beside his friend. “And I wish I could be more help. But I do know that Jeff loves you. All he wants to do is make you happy. It’s what he lives for! He talks about you like you’re the smartest, kindest, hottest thing on two legs!”

“Really?” Nick chuckled. He knew that Jeff did already, but he still found it difficult to believe.

“Yeah. And it’s super annoying!”

“Thanks.”

“I also know that if he found out that you’ve been harboring fears and doubts that you’re not talking to him about, he’d be hurt.”

“I know, I know. I owe it to him. That doesn’t make it any easier.”

Kurt put a hand on Nick’s knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m not trying to pressure you. Think it over, then talk to him when you’re ready. And I know it’s hard, but please, don’t make him wait too long. You might think you’re stealthy at keeping secrets, but I can’t help feeling he knows something’s up.”

And there it was. The thing Nick had been trying to avoid. But Kurt saw it, which meant Jeff had to have. If Nick could get his self-absorbed head out of his ass, he could put this to rest once and for all. “I’ll talk to him,” he said, putting a hand over Kurt’s and holding it. “Soon. I promise.”

***

“Settle down, settle down! Ladies! Gentlemen! We have a lot of ground to cover today so … shut up!”

The dancers laughed as Madame Dufraine marched into the room, the square heels of her dance shoes clicking against the smooth floor.

“We need to discuss semester projects!” she continued, shrugging out of her coat and handing it to her TA. She didn’t look before she let it go, knowing he’d be there to catch it before it hit the ground … or else. “Chester, Chad, Lonnie, Michael, and Jeff are our contestants today. Let’s shake things up and start from the end.” She peered into the wall-length mirror, tucked a stray brown curl underneath her plum turban. Then she turned to her class, tapped the floor with her cane, and announced, “Jeff? Darling? You’re up.”

“Okay.” Jeff popped to his feet straight from his seat on the floor and took the teacher’s place at the front of the class. He clapped his hands in front of him, pausing to get his thoughts in order. The smile glowing on his face was distracting. It earned him several giggles from the girls who knew who that smile belonged to. “My semester project is very special to me,” he began, voice quivering with excitement. “It’s a modern take on a classic pas de deux. I’ve been planning this for a while, and I was originally hoping to dance it with Kevin.” Jeff paused to shoot a look at the man sitting on the only chair in the room, his left leg locked in a cast that ran from his foot up to mid-thigh. “But he took himself out of the running when he broke his leg.”

“More like a Dodge Charger took me out of the running, my man.”

“If that’s the story you’re going with,” Jeff teased. The giggling returned. “Anyway, my semester project isn’t only about dance and what it brings to us in this room. It’s about how dance influences life, how it brings people together.” Jeff’s cheeks turned red as he approached the meat of the matter. “My project wasn’t choreographed by me alone. It was choreographed by me and my best friend while we were in high school - my boyfriend Nick.”

A chorus of ooo’s accompanied his revelation, and his cheeks got redder.

“Dance didn’t necessarily bring us together, but it’s always been a huge part of our lives. Even now, while he’s studying to become a lawyer, he helps me practice.” He bit his lower lip thinking about dancing with Nick, dressed in their pajama pants and t-shirts, taking a turn around their living room wrapped in each other’s arms. “He doesn’t need to study dance to be a dancer. No one does. He’s a dancer because a love of dance lives inside of him. And to be honest … his love inspires me. I wanna use this project to show him how much.”

The dancers in the classroom awww’d in unison, then clapped in support of his plan … all except for one man hunkered down in the corner of the room, out of sight, rolling blue eyes.

***

Nick wrapped his coat tight around his body and bounced on the balls of his feet, waiting outside NYADA for his boyfriend to appear. Students dribbled through the doors dressed in stylish clothes, talking excitedly about art and music and theater. All of the beautiful people seemed to reside in NYADA’s halls and his own wickedly talented boyfriend was among them.

One of the elite.

Nick was just Nick - law student. Nick, with mousy brown hair and wearing sensible shoes. Nick  … soft and meek and utterly uninteresting.

His heart stuttered when he saw Jeff walk out the doors, blending seamlessly with the other ballet gods and goddesses, almost all of them with an eye for his man. And why not? If Jeff was stunning as a teenager, he had grown into an absolute dream. His body had become even more defined through hours of practice and working out and discipline. He had more strength in his forearms alone than Nick had in his whole body, or so Nick imagined. With his innate charm and natural grace, no one would ever guess that Jeff was anything other than a New York socialite instead of coming from a working class family in Ohio.

Nick came from a much better-to-do family in Ohio, but the difference was that, regardless of having more money than Jeff’s family, Nick looked like he came from Ohio.

He and Jeff no longer matched, and Nick didn’t know how to fix that.

Jeff stopped outside with a pack of ballerinas, and one particularly friendly man sporting a black up-sweep and piercing blue eyes, whose fingers seemed to find a way to brush along Jeff’s arm no matter where he moved; whose lips lingered around his ear a little too long. Nick didn’t interrupt even though the urge to strut over and wedge his way between them overwhelmed him.

That’s what Kurt would do. He’d part them like the Red Sea, declare his superiority, and have everyone bowing at his feet.

But Nick couldn’t, no matter how much sass of his own Jeff claimed Nick had.

Maybe Jeff belonged with them. And Nick … well, Nick should find somewhere else to call home.

***

“Can you believe how many times Erik fell during that jazz combination? I thought Ms. July was going to put him through a window!”

“Now there’s a man with two left feet! And he’s a contemporary dance major! I can’t imagine what his knees are going to look like tonight!”

“The same way they look every night, I imagine.”

“Keisha! Don’t say that! That’s rude!”

“What? If you don’t think that man doesn’t spend every night on his knees, then you’re delusional!”

“And so what if he does? Have you seen his boyfriend? I don’t think Erik’s getting the short end of the stick by any means.”

Jeff laughed politely when the other dancers did. Man but the ballerinas at NYADA gossiped more than Kurt, and they didn’t pull any punches. Most of the time it was amusing to listen to whether he agreed with it or not, but today he was eager to get home. He hadn’t been this excited since he graduated high school. He felt like everything in his life was starting anew - new semester, new classes, new loft, and his project which, if he played his cards right, might lead to something else new.

Something he’d wanted for a long time.

He just needed to find the man that would make that happen.

His man.

He lifted his eyes and glanced around, searching the crowd impatiently for his boyfriend.

It took only a single sweep of his eyes to find him.

As if Nick had called out his name, Jeff spotted him standing awkwardly off to the side, looking oddly uncomfortable. Jeff smiled, breaking through the crowd of dancers mid-sentence to greet his adorably clueless man.

Nick, with the sharpest wit of any person Jeff had ever met.

Nick, always so oblivious to how amazing he was.

Nick, the man Jeff swore he would someday marry.

Jeff greeted Nick the way he always did, by grabbing him around the waist and lifting him in the air, spinning him and kissing him breathless. It didn’t matter that they were on a busy street in the middle of the afternoon. It didn’t matter that a whole gaggle of people stared at them. Either way, whenever Jeff laid eyes on Nick, the rest of the world melted away until the only person that mattered was in Jeff’s arms.

“So, Mr. Handsome Law Student Extraordinaire,” he said, taking Nick’s hand and sticking it in his own jacket pocket, “how was your day?”

“Same old, same old,” Nick replied, staring down at his shoes as he walked through the slush.

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah. And it got me thinking …” Nick swallowed hard “… actually, I may have been thinking about this off and on for a while now …” He didn’t enjoy broaching the subject of moving, especially when those plans didn’t necessarily include Jeff. Not that he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life with Jeff. He could see himself easily giving up law and spending the rest of his life traveling the country with Jeff, driving from one end of the continent to the other in Jeff’s 300ZX, concerned with nothing more pressing than where they would eat and what sites they would see. But he couldn’t ask Jeff to leave his life in New York. He loved Jeff, more than he loved himself. Asking Jeff to uproot his whole life just for him? That wasn’t something he could do. “You know, I … I don’t think I’m doing so well here.”

Jeff looked at Nick, eyes wide with surprise. “What do you mean?” he asked, guiding Nick through a crowd heading toward the subway.

“I don’t know … school kind of sucks, my internship is worse, and most of the time, I don’t feel like I fit in.”

“But I thought you were doing great in school.” Jeff led the way down the steep steps to the subway, paying their fare as they walked through the turnstile. “And didn’t Mr. Ryerson say you were one of his best interns?”

“Yeah, because I can walk five cups of coffee from the elevator to his office without spilling anything.”

Jeff found a bench and sat on it, pulling Nick into his lap. Nick looked around, self-conscious of who might be watching, but no one seemed to notice them.

“If they don’t appreciate you, fuck ‘em. Their loss.” Jeff took both of Nick’s hands in his and kissed them, warming Nick’s skin with his breath. “So if you don’t want to stay in New York, where should we go, Nicky?”

Nick stared at his boyfriend in disbelief, so nonchalant in the face of a total life change. “Wh-what do you mean ‘we’?”

“Well, if you’re moving away, I’m going with you.”

“But you have a life here,” Nick argued. “You’re top of your class. You’re making a name for yourself.”

“Nicky …” Jeff looked at Nick with hurt and confused eyes, his boyfriend clearly missing the obvious “… I chose a life here because you’re here. I can dance anywhere. There’s only one Nick.”

Nick’s gaze drifted slowly to their linked hands. “But … what if we weren’t meant to be together?” he said, remembering the dancers gathered around Jeff, the statuesque women, straight out of a Degas painting … and that one handsome man. “You and I, we’ve become so different really. I think that maybe, sometimes, we’re a little too different.”

Nick was afraid Jeff would get mad. Jeff didn’t usually get mad about anything. He had the heart of a pacifist. Still, Nick half-expected it. But Jeff looked at him calmly, ready to impart his sage Jeff wisdom that somehow managed to keep Nick sane during times of incredible self-doubt.

“Nicky, we’ve known each other since elementary school, and you’ve always been my best friend.”

“I know,” Nick said, giving in and resting his head against Jeff’s shoulder.

Jeff held Nick tighter against him. “Have you ever wondered why?”

“Wondered why what?”

“We barely ever fight, we always see eye to eye, we like the same stuff, we’re really hot in bed together …”

Nick blushed red to the roots of his hair but he couldn’t disagree. “I … guess I never really gave it any thought.”

“Because you belong with me, Nicky,” Jeff said, rocking his boyfriend in his arms. “You always have. And I belong with you. There isn’t anyone on heaven or earth who can do anything about that. So, if you’re leaving New York, I’m going with you. Got it? Unless …”

“Unless …?”

“Unless you … you don’t love me …” Jeff’s voice went hoarse, the words a struggle to say, his heart lodging itself in his throat to keep him from finishing “… and you don’t know how to tell me?”

Nick jerked up so quickly, he nearly knocked Jeff on the chin with his forehead. “No! Oh, Jeff! God, no! I’ve loved you since forever! Since before forever! And I always will! That’s not what this is about! I swear! Please don’t think for one minute …”

“Okay …” Jeff put gentle fingers to his boyfriend’s lips to stop his anxiety-fueled explaining. “That’s all I needed to know.”

Nick nodded, smiling as Jeff leaned in for a kiss, chaste and sweet. But when Jeff’s tongue slipped between Nick’s lips and the hard metal ball of his piercing danced against Nick’s tongue, he moaned.

That sound of bliss might have turned a head or two, but Nick didn’t notice.

“So,” Jeff said, “why don’t we head back to the loft and see how many times we can get our new neighbors to call the cops?”

Nick grinned. “Sounds like a plan.”

***

“So, no lab partner yet?” Blaine slid onto the bench at the lunch table Sebastian occupied alone, every book he needed for the semester spread out in front of him as he worked at playing catch up.

“Nah. Seems like the class is all evens and I’m the odd man out.”

“What are you going to do? That lab is half the grade.”

“It’s no biggie. Professor is going to let me be my own lab partner for now. Sort of academic masturbation.” Sebastian moved his plate closer to Blaine when he noticed him coveting his sweet potato fries. “Here. Have at it, tiger. I don’t need you drooling all over my homework. I don’t think I get extra credit for that.”

“Thanks.” Blaine wasted no time snagging a fry and dipping it in ketchup. “Well, that’s good. About the lab partner thing. It’d be awful to have your grade cut in half in the first few days after you lucked out with late admission and all. It’d be like they set you up to fail.”

“Yup. And I would have paid thousands for the privilege.”

“Brutal. So, are we on for Friday night?”

“Yup.” Sebastian snickered. “You and Kurt both texted me about the party at the same time. Now I know how he must have felt in high school – caught between two devastatingly handsome men.”

Blaine frowned at Sebastian’s attempt at humor. “Funny. That might not be the way he remembers it.”

Sebastian nodded to himself - a private note to start curbing his tongue … if he can remember. “I’m sure he doesn’t. I don’t either.”

Blaine picked up another fry, tapping it absentmindedly in the pool of ketchup on the plate. “And just so you know … I invited the study group.”

Sebastian arced an eyebrow his way. “And you’re telling me this why?”

“Because I may have noticed that you and Paul don’t exactly get along.”

“Was it that obvious? Because I was really trying to be subtle.”

“You may have missed the mark on that one by an inch or two.”

“Pity.” Sebastian grabbed a fry, deciding to join Blaine in the feeding frenzy to give his hands something to do. “Hey, just a question but have you ever told Kurt about Captain Pincushion?”

Blaine shrugged. “I must have.” He stopped munching a moment to give it some genuine thought. “Huh …”

“What do you mean huh?” Sebastian asked, squirreling another fry away before Blaine could lick the plate clean.

“To be honest, I don’t think he ever came up.”

“That’s convenient.”

“It’s not like that, man. We’re the leave work and school at the door types. That way we don’t spend the whole night rehashing the stress of the day. We just focus on each other.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Sebastian said, fidgeting his pen as the remainder of the fries made a hasty retreat into Blaine’s mouth. “But you guys do talk eventually, don’t you?”

“Of course we do,” Blaine said, looking only mildly offended. “We don’t keep secrets. Never have.”

“Well, I really think you should.”

Blaine’s head snapped up so quickly, Sebastian heard something crack. “You really think I should keep secrets from Kurt?”

“Tell Kurt about your lab partner!” Sebastian groaned.

“Okay, but I don’t know what you think there is to tell.”

“For one thing, that man has some serious eyes for you. He’s going to make a play for you, if he hasn’t already.”

“Paul?” Blaine snorted, the thought ludicrous. “What makes you think that?”

“Because …” Sebastian paused, managing to swipe the last stunted, overcooked fry, narrowly missing having his fingers bitten off “… it takes an asshole to know an asshole.”

[chyrstis]

From your lips to my ears

This was not what I had planned for a follow up, but apparently wanting Sharky and John to interact more in general lead to…other things. I’m also stuck in OT3 hell for the foreseeable future, so please don’t send help.

Pairing: Sharky Boshaw/John Seed, Sharky Boshaw/F!Dep/John Seed Rating: E Word Count: 9.2K

Link to AO3!

___

John’s looking for advice on a specific topic, and while Sharky’s not sure he’s the right person to ask, he’s certainly willing to give it his best shot.

Sequel to Oh, the things we could do (to see this thing through)

______________

This was not how he expected things to go. Hell, where he expected any of it to lead to.

Sharky had assumed it was going to happen once and that was it. The three would get together, have a go at it if anyone was feeling it – and they damn well did – and things would even out. Go back to as close to normal as things ever got for them, risking the morning after awkward ‘heys’ in the hall that happened whenever the sex had been all right but not spectacular, and hadn’t been enough of a bonding experience to immediately brand them all boner-bros, or whatever else he could come up with to label it.

At least, judging from his last and only other attempt at a threesome, which had crashed and burned pretty badly out the gate. A former bro of his had scored a shot with a chick he’d liked. Sharky had been wingman for him that night, and had to pinch himself when she mentioned wanting both of them at once. That had already blown all of his expectations out of the water, thinking he would walk away with her friend’s number at best, and a few rounds of beers at the worst.

Well, one thing lead to another, and one round of failed expectations later, not even he wanted to look them in the eye the next day.

Thinking back on it even now made him want to wince, and lucky for him he didn’t let that color any of what he thought was going to go down when John arrived. Because no amount of helping on his end – and he’d tried like hell to get that shit going, and make it work – could’ve salvaged it.

But going back to this, Hana had made a solid point. Assuming anything was going to lead to them banging it out had been pushing it. A movie was a movie, and the one John brought seemed like a sure-fire boner-killer, but it swung that way. And maybe he did nudge it along by getting handsy, but Hana took little convincing and John even less, and right around the time he’d gone from having John’s hand on his dick to having Hana sitting on his face, he’d considered it a rocking success. Not to mention John had thrown him for a loop and blown him while he was at it, scrambling him for a good day and a half afterwards.

So, he made a few more assumptions after that. Seemed safe enough considering what he had to work with.

That John was being his own brand of nice – 'cause he was still fucking John Seed, just not as much of a mega-douche as he used to be - and wouldn’t pay him as much mind the next time he was invited over and they all got physical. He’d give Sharky a jerk or two every now and then just so he wouldn’t feel left out or whatever, and then go back to the whole reason they were both there to begin with: making sure the redhead between them had zero complaints, or chances to voice them.

But around the third time he’d found himself sandwiched between the two, it was starting to look pretty deliberate. John never shied away from touching him, and each time Sharky grew a little more confident that while he didn’t have the same amount of experience with dudes as John seemed to have, he at least wasn’t fucking it up with this one.

With Hana at his front, kissing him breathless, and John at his back leaving him covered with marks only his hoodie would cover up the next day, he was honestly having the best sex of his life. No joke. That he was having sex with these two at all was something that blew his mind on a regular basis, even after three years and some change with Hana, and Sharky wasn’t about to question a damn thing about it. She wanted him, actual honest to monkey Jesus wanted to spend her days and nights with him, and John…

Well, John wanted her too. And while it could've been weird to see them together, it wasn't. They’d already sorted through most of it only for John to pitch him a fast one and really, really land him in a spot he was still scratching his head over. Because with her it all made sense. Him, not so much. Not enough for him to fully believe any of that would ever be aimed his way, at least.

So, he was still questioning some things about it, but not the feeling that settled into his chest every time Hana would curl up next to him in bed during the night, right before stealing the blankets. Or the way he’d nearly trip over random shit in the hall when John would catch his eye, holding the look long enough to give him a knowing smile before walking off.

They were both probably going to send him to an early grave at this rate, given the gymnastics his heart’s gotten up to lately, but even if they did at least he’d die happy. There were worse things to end him, for sure.

Like the thing he was currently staring down. Beeping and hissing, he and the technician with him checked the gauge, and he made an adjustment with the wrench at his side, tightening it until the reading evened out.

Dealing with the massive checklist that came with monitoring the bunker’s generators, air purifiers, and fuel was a pain in the ass for fucking sure. It needed to be done, and while he wasn’t one of the engineers that helped to build them, he knew enough at this point from messing around with this kind of stuff back on the surface to tag along with them if they needed the manpower.

Yeah, it was mostly to find ways to pop shit off and get one hell of a finish, but he could apply what he knew to other areas. Fire wasn’t the only thing he was good with, it was just the thing that helped to take the edge off of everything else. When the buzzing would start up, reminding him that he had at least four more years of being cooped up down here, waiting. Wondering just how bad things would be once they were able to get topside, and he’d be able to see the other half of his family again.

Someday, he’d keep on telling himself. But someday was still a long way off.

“Try it again. We need to see if that’s normal.”

The woman with him, Vicky, was someone he’d worked with before. She was nice enough for a former Peggie, at least in terms of letting him talk just to fill in the massive gaps of silence between them, and didn’t slap the tools out of his hands every time he touched something.

But she was serious. Sometimes way too serious, and when he flicked at the gauge just to see if it’d respond, he felt her eyes boring into his back. “It’s spitting out readings, no problem.”

“For now. If you keep on doing that, however…”

“Yeah, yeah, I get you.” He didn’t tweak it again, settling for watching it bob back up to where it needed to be, hovering around the number the system needed. “We cool?”

“Mostly. Just one last check’s left here before we can head down the line to the next, and then that should cover this-“

There was a short whistle from somewhere behind him, and he started.

“Hey, working hard, or hardly working?”

Sharky peered over his shoulder, and once he noticed just who it was, he loosened up immediately.

Walking down towards them with a slight swing in her step was Hana, wearing a wide grin that he quickly matched. She had on what passed for her uniform down here – jeans, and a button-up shirt in deputy green - and was all suited up for a day spent doing the rounds in the bunker. Walking, talking, doing that whole ‘I am the law’-type shit that she swore she wasn’t trying to overdo or go into total Judge-mode over.

Course that wasn’t counting the times she’d deliberately quote a few Stallone worthy lines guaranteed to have him grinning, but that was something a little extra she’d save just for him.

“It’s serious work, you know,” she’d say, sneaking a quick kiss off of him between shifts. “What with the whole crime being the disease, and me the cure bit. You know how it goes.”

But this time around she didn’t have anyone with her, which was rare. That could’ve meant anything, but a chance to see her was a chance to see her, and he wouldn’t ever turn that down.

“Wasn’t thinking we’d catch you down here today, shorty.”

Paying absolutely zero mind to the fact that he wasn’t exactly alone with her, Sharky might’ve flexed a little harder on the next adjustment he made. Just, you know, to show off how hard he was working, even if he’d hardly broken a sweat.

“No? You know there’s always a chance I might stop on by. See how one of my favorite guys might be doing.”

Now he was definitely showing off, and only wanted to amp it up even more. “Sure thing. Might wanna pull up a seat if you’re looking to stick around, though. We’re checking on a leak in the line.”

That made her go serious fast. “Oh. Just one of those, huh? Judging from the lack of alarms, and how we’re chatting like this instead of making a break for it, though, I’m guessing everything’s fine?”

“Yeah, it’s cool. At least here it is.” He removed his cap and swiped at his brow. “We’re taking these in pairs seeing if we can track it, but no luck yet.”

Vicky jotted a few notes down on her clipboard. “There’s a possibility it’s just a faulty reading from one of the gauges, but that means checking each one by one.”

“Nice to see you too, Vic. They take you off of sanitation?”

“No,” Vicky said ruefully, as she adjusted her glasses, “but a break’s a break, Deputy, and I’d much rather deal with this at the moment. Higher priority.”

“Sounds absolutely thrilling.” Sharky shook his head, and Hana struggled to keep a straight face when Vicky scowled at him. “I think I’m going to have to side with Vic on this one, hon. Boring’s better, at least when it comes to stuff like this. Anyway, I was just passing through, but if you get a break, come find me. I don’t want to distract you any more than I already have.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to have you hanging here while we’re working, H. In fact, the extra company might be kinda nice. You know, to help break things up.”

“You sure about that? I think someone might disagree with you on that one.” She winked at Vicky, making the other woman roll her eyes. “But don’t think I’m not tempted. They need me down towards storage, so I can’t drag my feet here too much longer.”

“Bunker business?”

“Bunker business. Not the whole nine yards, but close. Oh, and one quick thing,” Hana said, snapping her fingers as she recalled it. “If you see John anywhere near here, kindly redirect him towards that area too. I’ve got a bone to pick with him, and I don’t want him slipping out of it if he can help it.”

Sharky gave her a suggestive look as he opened his mouth, and she held up a finger to stop him.

“No, not that kind of bone, and you know it. Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I’m going to exit stage left, and wish you both happy hunting.”

She blew him a kiss on the way out, leaving him with a silly grin for a good minute or two before he noticed Vicky’s hand waving in front of his face. When she snapped her fingers right after, he realized she was still waiting on him.

“Uh, shit, I’m here. Were you saying something?”

“Yes.” Vicky sighed deeply, and turned to head down the hall. “Come on. We’re not even halfway through this.”

An hour passed, following the same steps.

Check. Adjust. Re-check.

Check. Adjust. Re-check.

No amount of whistling, talking, or singing was going to make it any less painful. Vicky gave him a funny look more than once when something clinked when it should’ve clanked, but when he had nothing else to do but check for problems that weren’t there, he had to make do.

And failing that, distract himself from getting distracted to begin with. It was a circle, and he lapped it more than once as he forced himself to listen to what Vicky was telling him to check for.

Maybe he should’ve found a better way to twist Hana’s arm into staying with them, because at least then he’d have something pretty to look at. Someone to smile at and joke with, instead of numbing his brain sorting through these numbers and all this metal bullshit-

“Boshaw.”

He fumbled the wrench and nearly smacked himself in the face with it. There John was, somehow coming out of nowhere like a ghost, and looking dead serious as well. “Fuck, man! Give me some warning first.”

“I’ve been told there’s a problem in the back.”

“P-problem?”

Next to him, Vicky had gone ram-rod straight, not expecting to see John either. It was always weird to see the ex-Peggies react to him, because while they weren’t following the project any longer, that mix of fear and respect never really went away.

“Okay, and…?” Sharky asked, his voice rising.

“And I want you to come with me to fix it.” Still wearing that same expression, John raised an eyebrow expectantly. “Preferably, sometime today.”

“Is it a major issue?” Vicky stepped up beside him, looking concerned. “We’re both available if that’s the case.”

“Nothing catastrophic, believe me, but…only one set of hands should be needed.”

And with that, John’s eyes were focused on him again.

Sharky swallowed the growing lump in his throat, and let out a nervous laugh. “Right. You want me to drop everything and…shit, fine. I’ll smack whatever it is a few times and see if that solves it.”

He could feel the eyes of Vicky on his back as he stepped out with John, and wondered just how bad this problem was going to be. Sure, he was kidding when he mentioned smacking it a few times, but he’d do it if desperate times called for desperate measures.

John led him down towards the area in the back, only to take a left down a twisting hallway. This was further than what he’d expected, but he followed, shoving the wrench into his toolbelt as they kept on walking.

When they finally found the place, some small area tucked way back in a maze of pipes, John stopped and gestured towards the spot in question.

“This it?” Sharky asked, wondering if John was going to be more specific than waving his hand at what looked like a breaker box. “That what’s busted?”

He gave him a thin smile. “Yes.”

Okay, so no, he wasn’t. Sharky rubbed his hands together. “Cool, so let’s see what the problem is.”

He opened it up, and checked the wires, checked the switches, and read the small labels marking the inside. Scratching at his goatee, he stood there, taking in the almost neat way the whole thing was set up, and after five minutes of doing nothing but staring at it he turned to point at John.

“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?” John didn’t say anything, but the smile that slid onto his face said it all. “That’s real low.”

“Is it? It did exactly what I hoped it would. To bring you over here so we could speak privately.”

“Private, huh?” That got a reaction he’d hoped to keep under wraps, clearing his throat as he averted his eyes. “Kinda tough to see any part of this place as private, but this ain’t too bad. Depending on, uh…what you’re going for, I guess.”

Yeah, his mind was running through a few things. Recalling how he’d snuck around with Hana, finding any available nook and cranny they could, only to see if this would be the one that got them caught. They never started anything they weren’t able to finish, though it came close at times. Close enough to have her act as the distraction for the person nearly finding them while he hid long enough to get his zipper back up.

Applying that same idea to John, wondering how they could be caught here was just as appealing, and he knew that walking down that line of thought was a dangerous one. With the way his dick was starting to harden, he knew he didn’t need to be entertaining it either. But he did, and with the way John was eyeing him as he approached, some of that had to be running through his mind too.

“I have an important favor to ask.”

Favor? That got his brain firing off any and all suggestions that train of thought could lead to. “Shoot. What is it?”

“I’ve been conflicted lately. Down to choosing three to four new poems that I believe Hana might be amenable to, but…I can’t seem to narrow them down further.”

He almost wanted to laugh. Poetry. He was here to talk to him about poetry. That was a curveball he hadn’t prepped for, or even remotely considered.

“Is that right?” Sharky fiddled with his toolbelt, and wished that the machine in front of him was actually broken so he wouldn’t be standing there half-blushing like the fool he was.

“Yes. Now, you know her rather well. What she enjoys, and what grates on her, so I was hoping to get a second opinion.”

He nearly dropped what he was holding on his foot. “No fucking way.”

“As I said, you know what she likes, so it makes sense to have you look it over before she does.“

This was not poetry night take two. Or it was totally poetry night take two, Boshaw edition. Or it was just him asking for actual advice for stuff to offer on poetry night, and he was overthinking it, jumping straight into the assumption that John was asking to have sex with him.

Which even if he did directly, Sharky would’ve still stood there staring at him like he’d grown a second head. Like he was currently, as John actually started to look uncomfortable with the amount of silence between them.

“Perhaps I spoke too soon-“

“Yeah! Oh, wait, not-aw, shit,” Sharky blurted out. “It’s good! It’s all good, never mind what I said at first. I’m down for that.”

“You are?”

“It’s, um…you’re better at that flowery shit than I am, but you’ve gotta be desperate asking for me to help you go through page after page of that stuff just so you can get laid, man.”

The small smile he wore seemed to help John relax a bit. “It wouldn’t be for my benefit only.”

“But it’d go a long way to getting there,” Sharky replied, raising his eyebrows. “And with a Boshaw on your side, well, you sure you’re ready to deal with sex getting thrown at you 24/7?”

John stared at him, giving him a look before replying drily, “I think I can manage.”

---

He all but sprinted to the showers once his shift was officially up. The hot water was welcome, along with the chance to crank out a quick one, because there was no thinking straight with that hanging around.

It was no big deal. It wasn’t anything major, but the longer he thought about it, the more the thought skittered around, and by the time he managed to find Hana where she mentioned she was earlier – hiding in the back of one of the storage rooms, but struggling to grab stuff off of a high shelf – he was on the verge of blurting anything and everything out.

Not his best move, but as he reached over to drop the item into her hands, he kept his mouth firmly shut. A real struggle, as he tried to work out exactly how to phrase any of this.

Hana jumped as he reached over her, and she spun around. “Geez, now you’re being the sneaky one.”

He kissed her before he could talk himself out of it. She sank into it immediately, throwing what she held to the side so she could wrap her arms around his neck. Having lost the chance earlier, he wanted to make up for it now. Just to have her close, to be able to press a kiss to her hair, her nose, and her chin to see how long it’d take to have her giggle until it’d break into a snort.

It was almost silly of him to want it that much, but it helped. It always did, and he loved her for it.

“Yeah, totally a sneak,” Hana said, biting her lip. She kissed him again, letting it linger long enough for him to start pressing her against the shelves, and she grinned against his mouth. “God, don’t tempt me like this. That’s not fair.”

Sharky drew back. “Hey, you said to find you once I was on break. Couldn’t exactly do this earlier, but now…?” His grin fell as he suddenly recalled exactly what she’d told him to do. “Aw, shit.”

“What?”

“The whole ‘if you see John pass him along towards you’, and I blew the second part. He wanted to talk to me about something, and it threw me off. Had a good groove going up to that point too.”

“He did? Everything okay?”

With Hana’s attention directly on him, it was worse, and his words picked up speed as he spoke. “Nah, said he wanted my opinion for some reason. Guess he couldn’t make up his mind on whatever it is he’s got hiding back in his room. And…yeah. Figured I’d help. Maybe head on over tonight and see what’s going on.”

She looked concerned at first, but started side-eyeing him when he scratched the tip of his nose and didn’t quite meet her eyes. After a minute, however, a smile crept in. “Well, you are a pretty decent tie-breaker when it counts.”

“Right? I thought I was pretty good at that, myself.”

“And if he needs another set of eyes, yours definitely wouldn’t hurt. Just one thing, hon,” Hana said, leaning up on her toes.

‘Yeah?”

“Don’t have too much fun, now.”

Sneaking a kiss to Sharky’s cheek, his face burned as she grabbed the box she'd tossed to the floor and left the room. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Her wide grin said it all, and he swore to himself as he tried not to say anything else to spoil it further. Sure, he was heading over to see John. Sure, she suspected enough to jump to a conclusion or two, but he had a reason for it. Not just…assumptions, and he wasn’t feeling too much like an ass yet, so he figured he was doing okay.

But ruining the surprise like this would’ve been the exact opposite of helping, and the last thing he needed was to get drummed out of any future invites just because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

That idea stewed a little, enough for him to backtrack to the shop to get out the welding torch for a while, but he could only mess around for so long until he had no choice but to take a deep breath and dive in anyway.

Finally accepting that, he let that burst of 'fuck it, let's do this' carry him all the way to John’s doorstep.

Were his hands sweaty? He wiped them off on his jeans before knocking on the door, and shoved both deep into his pockets afterwards. There he wouldn’t have to worry about them, and it wasn’t like John was going to want to shake his hand anyway.

Or, uh, shake anything else.

He made a face. What the fuck, man. Cool it. It’s just a damn get-together to work out whatever poetry problems he was having, they could shoot the shit after that, and then he’d head out. Nothing to it.

Something flickered overhead, and he zeroed right in on it. One of the lightbulbs blinked, the action spaced out over a minute, and he stared at it all while waiting for literally anything else to happen.

John opened the door, and Sharky didn’t wait. Just let his mouth run on autopilot. “Hey, man. Don’t know if you think it’s working, but you should get these lights checked.”

The pleased look on John’s face went straight to confusion. “What?”

“That’s going. Unless you want to head on down to the showers in the dark, or break something heading out in the night to take a piss, you’ll want someone to jump on that shit soon as you can.”

It flickered again, and John leaned out to stare up at it, one of his eyebrows raised.

“Real pressing shit, you know?”

He did not agree, judging from the way he aimed that eyebrow at Sharky as well. “Would you like to come in? Or is this something you wanted to take care of now, since you’re insisting on it so heavily?“

“No, I’m-I’m coming, I’m just-“ Fuck. He cringed, internally and externally if he was being honest, and went inside before he could come up with another thing to blurt out at random.

The door shut behind him, and he stood there, his hands still crammed into his pockets as he took in the room’s appearance a second time. Last time he’d only been focused on one thing, getting the question out. This time really wasn’t any different, he told himself as he tried to shake off the feeling weighing him down. He was here because of a question, and maybe this time it wouldn’t end with him getting a door shut in his face.

“Are they right over here?” He walked up to John’s desk, taking in the number of books on it, along with the stack of papers nearby. “Dude, how many did you sort through? Looks like half of the shelf’s out here.”

Picking one up to thumb through, he blew out a breath at the number of pages paired with the size of the text.

“It pays to be thorough. But it’s rather time-intensive, and seeing as you picked that particular one up, I’m sure you can see why,” John said, walking up behind him.

“Yeah, this just looks like it’ll put you to sleep.”

He set it down, and grabbed another nearby as John came to stand by his side. Looking over at him briefly, Sharky noticed he was back to being amused again, and the small smile he wore grew when he caught his stare. “That one should be better.”

“You sure about that?” Flipping through a few pages, he went to John’s first bookmark and skimmed it. It got a laugh out of him almost right off the bat. “All right, that kinda works. And that ain’t talking about anything other than-“

A hand came to rest on his lower back, and when it slid lower to tuck under the edge of his hoodie, his entire posture went rigid.

The minute it happened, John snatched it back like he’d burned him.

And while Sharky didn’t turn to look at him, he could see John starting to back off out of the corner of his eye, and ticked off the seconds as silence filled the room. Then gave up on waiting, because if he was going to shoot himself in the foot any further with this, he might as well go for broke.

“Look, I’m used to the idea of you wanting Hana by now,” Sharky admitted, setting the book down. “Long before you both started banging on the reg, I knew you were into her, and even called that shit up on the outside before. It’s a given by this point, and that’s not counting what we’ve all done together, 'cause fuck, those were some major banging sessions. And going off of that, yeah, it’s cool to reach over and give a courtesy jerk, or go down on anyone that’s in danger of feeling left out, but the idea that you want some of this outside of that?”

He gestured towards himself, and gave John a conflicted look.

“Not that you made me feel like anything we did during those nights was a pity fuck, but…that’s taking longer to sink in, amigo. No weirdness intended.”

John was as hard to read now as he always was, but he wasn’t pissed at him, or offended. If anything, he looked as close to sorry as he’d ever seen him. “None taken, or intended either.”

“Not that I’m not…uh, fuck. I’m into it. You’re-“ Sharky looked him over, gave him a good solid once-over, and found himself drawn back to his eyes like he always was. “You’re the kind of hot that has someone thinking about it long after they see you, you know? Right at the worst times, either when you’re about to sit down for dinner, take a leak, or when you’re about to get in some shut-eye.”

John didn’t move any closer, but the tension that had settled into him seemed to fade the longer Sharky kept talking.

“It’ll pop up, right as you’re cracking open a beer to relax. Just ‘fuck that guy’. Like, seriously, fuck that guy for looking like that and knowing it. I still remember thinking right when you all came here trying to get us to sign up, ‘Look at this asshole. This guy comes sweeping in, with chicks hanging off of him only to say that there’s no fucking allowed? Man, that blows.’”

A frown covered John’s face for a second only to give way to an amused sigh. “Clearly, what mattered at the time.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t important, but it stuck. At least for a little while.” Sharky shrugged, and gave John a light punch to the shoulder. “And it still doesn’t change the fact that they went for you, in most of the videos and the posters, hoping to get people to sign up knowing they’d be throwing ass at you left and right.”

“They didn’t.”

“Didn’t pick you, or didn’t throw a ton of ass at you? I knew at least three people that would’ve dropped and spread ‘em in a heartbeat. What with you walking around acting all like you’d be able to get it with only a look.” He wet his lips. “'Cause you could’ve. Or just asked. That’s a given too.”

Sharky watched John’s eyes zero in on him as he edged closer, how they scanned his face completely, before dropping to focus on his mouth. “That you would say yes?”

“Not back then, but now?” His voice nearly cracked, but his next few words were even. “Yeah. Hell, yeah.”

“Maybe that was my mistake then.”

“What?”

His eyes flicked back up to his own. “Failing to ask from the start.”

Sharky stepped forward and kissed him hard, both hands reaching for his shoulders only to pull him closer shortly after. Standing there, holding onto him tight, he didn’t want to let go.

John let him take the lead, opening his mouth to him seconds after contact. On the third or fourth kiss, he slipped a hand behind Sharky’s head to keep him there, while his other hand hooked his belt. That brought his hips right up against him. Helped him to feel the friction between them as the slow grind made him moan into John’s mouth, and didn’t object at all when John broke the kiss to move his lips along his jaw.

The beard always tickled more than Sharky thought it would, but he was getting used to it. Fuck, was he. “So…”

“So?” John nipped at his skin, and went for the space below his ear.

“You were hoping for it, weren’t you?”

He paused, giving Sharky a chance to trade a look with him. “I was keeping the option open.”

“But you wanted it.” Sharky’s grin grew as John gave him a small shrug. “Don’t lie now.”

“I never said I was.” John’s hands went for the hoodie, pulling it and the tank under it, up and over Sharky’s head. His hat was caught up in the mess as well, disappearing with it, and when John kissed him next, it was with a light push towards the back of the room. “But I did need to be clearer, didn’t I?”

Before long the edge of the bed hit the backs of Sharky’s legs, and he sat down, getting to work on John’s belt right after. It didn’t take long to undo it, and he glanced up at him as John worked to get his shirt open.

John raised an eyebrow, not exactly smiling at him, but the hint was there. “Hmm?”

“It’s…uh,” John stripped the shirt off, and Sharky idly realized he still hadn’t done much to remove his own jeans or shoes. He kicked his sneakers and socks off soon after, and hoped that no one would trip over them later. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“Random shit. Nerves, I don’t know. It’s all kinda kicking in and taking turns.”

He undid the button to John’s pants, but right when he was about to drag them down his hips, John crouched down to kiss him. Amused by how insistent John was being, Sharky grinned as he kissed him back, and felt John’s hands work at his own jeans.

“Dude,” he managed between kisses, “you wanna make this difficult, don’t you?”

“Exactly the opposite. I was aiming for easier,” he said, helping Sharky to get them out of the way.

The heated look he wore after doing so made Sharky pull him onto the bed with him.

He lost track of John’s hands after that, focusing on how well he could work his pants down all while seeing if he could actually get a hickey on him for once. It wasn’t easy, between taking him in hand and sucking hard at any of the spots he was covering John’s neck with, but he did it. He kept his hand moving, his mouth right at his throat, and had every intention of going up until either John finished, or he told him to stop.

John’s breathing went ragged, but he drew it back in line somehow as he held himself up and over Sharky. “Flip over.”

The request wasn’t forceful, but there was no mistaking how John intended it. Sharky turned around in his arms, propping himself up on his forearms, and after a few seconds and some rustling, felt John press an open-mouthed kiss to the back of his neck.

“Now, what could we possibly do like this?” John asked, wrapping his arms around him.

His hands ran down Sharky’s chest as he continued to kiss him, lightly brushing his thumbs over his nipples before giving them a tweak. Sharky jumped slightly at the sensation, but wouldn’t have minded if he did it again. “Got a few ideas.”

“Do you? Any that you would like to share?”

“It’s…it’d definitely start like this. What with, you know. You there, behind me.” Not that he’d had a good chance to fantasize about this much before, but he was well on his way to it now, feeling what he was sure was John’s cock against his ass. “You, hard like that’s nice too. 'Cause it’d really blow if after all of this you didn’t have some kind of a boner going.”

He heard John do something suspiciously close to a snort, and wished he could��ve seen his face. “I see. Are you comfortable with that? Any form of penetration?”

One hand traced down Sharky’s back, the warmth of it making a shiver run through him. Then traveled even further down from the base of his spine, running right along his ass. That got a rough exhale. “…Uh, that’s a 10-4 on that.”

“Charlemagne. A simple yes or no would suffice.”

“What, you don’t know half of the shit your truckers would’ve said on the road?” When John didn’t answer, Sharky took a look over his shoulder only to catch the annoyance crossing his face. “Seriously, yes, I’m cool with this. That. Shit, anything.”

John got up, but not before Sharky got a quick kiss off of him. That made him freeze in place, but his frown faded as he slid off of the bed, and walked over to his desk.

“But yeah, about that.” Sharky flipped over to look at him, leaning up on his forearms. “So, Hana and I have done some anal. It’s not a big deal, and she’s liked it well enough, but…after a few times she asked if I’d be into it too. If it’d be cool if she’d slip me a finger or two while blowing me. Just for science.”

“And?”

He watched John bend down to reach into one of the drawers, and slowly let out a breath. “It’s pretty fucking good. Not gonna lie.”

“But no more than that?”

“Uh, no. Not yet,” he said. “But that’s looking to change, so…?”

John chuckled, and shook his head at him as he walked back over. “Well, we can try a few things tonight. See if they agree with you, and maybe we can plan for that in the future accordingly.”

All he had with him for now was a small container of lubricant, but watching him slip a generous amount between his hands as he rubbed them together made Sharky’s mouth go dry. This was actually on the verge of happening, and that made disbelief want to kick him squarely in the shins, yet again.

“…And aren’t you supposed to be on your hands and knees?”

That nearly made him swallow his tongue. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” The sharp look John gave him made him sit up. “Maybe can mean all sorts of things. Such as, maybe I did invite you here for more than just your opinion. Maybe I did intend to see how many ways I could fuck you tonight all before cracking open a single book. And maybe, just maybe,” he said, drawing the words out slowly as he reached the bed’s edge, “I could see how quickly I could get you to come for me, knowing full well that I plan on testing that the next time the three of us meet.”

“That’s-uh, that’s a lot of maybes,” Sharky replied, looking up at John from his spot on the bed. And not a single one of them did a damn thing to kill the hard on he’d had from the minute John laid his hands on him.

“Oh, I’m not done. There are plenty more I could choose to share, but if you wanted to turn any of those maybes into a yes…?”

He moved; a hell of a lot quicker than he thought he could. That he was that eager to do so made his face burn, but hearing John’s hum of approval only made him harder.

“That’s at least one maybe well-removed. Let’s see about removing the others now, one by one.”

Starting from the middle of his back, he felt John press a kiss there before traveling up, leaving more as he went. His left arm curled around Sharky’s midsection as he did so, bringing his fingers up along the underside of his cock.

It was when his palm came to cup him, sliding back and forth with ease as he started to cover him with the lubricant, that Sharky tried to focus on breathing through his nose. Swallowing hard as John’s fingers closed around him, he twisted them in a gentle spin as he slid from the base of his cock up to tease at the tip.

“Is this all right?”

He was warm at Sharky’s back as he leaned into him, wanting more of it. A bunch of responses ran through his head, all of them in the affirmative, but he didn’t let any slip until he felt John’s other hand return to where he had felt him before. His slick fingers pressing against his ass, making sure that he was well coated there too.

“Yeah.” He nodded, then quickly repeated himself. “Yeah, that’s good.”

“And this?” he asked, his mouth teasing at Sharky’s neck.

The hand wrapped around his cock kept on moving at a slow pace, the lube making every slide heaven. “That’s-that’s just not fucking fair.”

“Why would you say that?”

“'Cause, I-“ Pressing down gently, John started guiding one finger into him, and Sharky felt his brain stutter to a halt. “…Oh, jumping Jesus, holy fucking shit-!”

“Mmm. Casual blasphemies? Given how a certain deputy tends to respond to my efforts in a similar fashion, I think we’re on the right track,” John deadpanned.

“Fuck you, man. It’s-it’s just hard to think. Hard to keep everything straight when you’re…you’re doing that,” he breathed. “When I can’t even see you, or touch you much. That’s not cool.”

He tried groping behind him for John, only managing to find and dig his fingers into his thigh. That got Sharky a kiss to the side of his neck that was guaranteed to leave a mark, all while John continued to slide the finger inside of him in and out. It was a slow, gradual build with each press, deeper and deeper, and he felt himself starting to lean more into it.

“Good. Just like that.” He could hear John close by his ear, making pleased sounds himself. “Ease into it. Feel me as I’m feeling you.”

The encouragement almost did it for him just as much as the change in angle, feeling it more when he arched back into him. When another finger slipped in, filling him further, it wasn’t a sound that escaped him, not exactly. But John heard it, increasing the pace gradually as his breaths became shorter with every thrust.

And it felt good. Good enough to know that if John were to pull his fingers out now only to slide in himself, Sharky would have a mess on his hands in seconds. His dick couldn’t get any harder, the sensation bordering on painful, and when he felt another finger start to tease at him, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“That’s about where you need it, right?” Sharky pushed back against John, urging him deeper, and heard him inhale sharply. “Where you’d need me?”

“…Close, but yes.”

“Well, what are you - you trying to draw it out or something? I-I want to feel you.”

The groan that slipped out of him after hearing that was music to Sharky’s ears. “Later. We have all the time in the world. Focus on this for now, and if you close your eyes, you’ll find it’s still me.” The fingers slid deep, all of them in time with his other hand, and John’s voice was just as rough as his was. “I’m still inside of you. Moving with you. Feeling everything, and waiting to see just what it’ll take to make you come for me. Because isn’t that what you want?”

“What I-what I want?”

The words came in a rush, hot by his ear. “Don’t you want to come for me?”

“Oh, fuck,” he rasped, feeling John’s hand start to jerk him harder. “Fuck, fucking-“ With every stroke of John’s, he kept his hips moving, wanting to take John deeper even if it wasn’t possible.

“Don’t you?”

He didn’t know how, but he responded, his voice shaky and uneven. “Yeah, just-yes.”

“Then go ahead. Don’t make me wait.”

Coming then, was easy. All too easy after that. His body tensed, hot, wet heat spilling out onto the sheets, all drawn and encouraged by the hand grasping him. Arching back into John, he nearly collapsed, but let him take some of his weight as he came back to himself.

Hanging his head as he gulped down air, he felt John’s lips at his neck again, the touch almost soft. “Are you all right?”

That he didn’t shift away immediately was a relief, and Sharky nodded. Responding was harder, but he managed that after a few seconds. “Yeah.” He inhaled, and exhaled, feeling the breath waver. “Still here.”

“Good.”

John withdrew slowly, making sure he could adjust to it without pain. Once Sharky gave him an actual signal, the sloppiest a-ok he’d ever managed, John got up, leaving him to his spot on the bed.

Sharky rested there in the meantime, with his eyes closed as he felt his body relax, and let himself fall onto his side, knowing he was still a mess, but just too high from the feeling to care about it.

“I’ll have you know, we’re not done yet.”

He could hear John at a point further away in the room, either cleaning his hands, or lubing up for an encore. Odds were better for the first, but the thought of the second made the ache running through him twice as good. “I know. Just give me ten like last time. Or fuck, maybe fifteen or twenty.”

“And then again?”

“You want me to open a book for you? To do any serious reading or thinking?” Sharky rolled over and held up two fingers. “Throw in two more rounds of that, and I’m sold.”

Two was pushing it, since after the first time he wasn’t thinking his clearest, and after getting John under him the second time – finally, touching him in the way he’d wanted to earlier – his brain was toast. Blissed out, and content to be lazy as hell as he laid there, almost on the verge of drifting off.

At least for a little while. There had been a purpose behind getting him there after all, and after cleaning up and changing out the sheets, John handed him the first book.

The theme he’d settled on was ‘Wildfire’, said in that airy way John took to whenever he was presenting something he thought was important. It had Sharky struggling to stifle a laugh as he was handed book after book, and flipped through them to the pages John had placed bookmarks.

He had told him three or four poems earlier. It was actually down to eight or nine, and the two were soon surrounded by open books on John’s bed.

Sharky ran a hand through his hair, feeling plenty relaxed at this point, but not sure if he was actually of help here. The poems all sounded good. All of them hit the topic straight-on.

But John wasn’t happy with any of them. At least not enough to narrow them down further.

“Oh, man. Go for this.”

He handed the book to John, and watched as he read through the words, examining them closely. It was an intense amount of focus for what amounted to thirty words total, and Sharky watched a frown work its way onto his face.

“No good?”

“It’s missing something. That…” John started moving one of his hands, rotating it in a circular motion as he searched for the right word to fit what he was thinking of. “Impact. The sense of heightened emotion, the diction-“

“Heh, diction.” John glared at him, and Sharky cleared his throat. “Uh, right. All of that diction. Just hanging out there, you know?”

John pinched the bridge of his nose, and let his eyes fall shut. “To be to the point, the intent behind it doesn’t matter if in the end everything hinges on one single word.”

“One?”

He raised his head. “One. And if it’s the wrong one, it all falls apart.”

“You know we’re talking about Hana, right?” Sharky asked, giving him a wry look. “You could read through one of the bunker’s technical manuals, running down through all of the specs, and get the same reaction. Swooning, moaning, telling you to, I don’t know, go through the full hands-on demo for any of the pictures included. Provided the pictures come with positions, but I don’t think that’s gonna work here.”

“Because going through a list of pressure readings is the best form of foreplay.”

“With her, yeah. 'Cause she’s kinda got a thing for that. Or maybe just for you after all of that radio shit you kept up with.”

John’s lips pressed together in a thin line.

That made Sharky backpedal a bit. “Not that you were always going out of your way to tell her anything that sort of implied, or made her think you wanted to fuck her, but you kinda were. Talking all about screaming for you, how good it’ll feel to say ‘Yes’, and just hogging that frequency whenever she’d light any of your shit up. And I don’t think you know this, but when you threaten someone, sometimes you get into that low, breathy, ‘I’m not trying to, but you’re gonna be soaked by the end of this’ tone of voice, which works for more people than you’d think-“

“Charlemagne.”

That was a definite warning, and Sharky threw both of his hands up.

“Fuck, man, she likes you. Loves you, if she hasn’t said anything about it yet. And you’re sitting here worried that one word’ll ruin it all? That any of this’ll make her think this is a bad idea?” He pushed the books away. “That ain’t her for one, and two, you know that ain’t true either.”

Judging from the sharp stare John was aiming at him, he hadn’t let any of what he’d said before this go, but angled it away when Sharky refused to break eye contact. “It’s not that,” John replied with a huff.

“Then what? You’ve got performance anxiety all of a sudden?” He squinted at him, tilting his head as he did so. “…Can you even get that? Guess you can if we’re talking about it and you’re trying to sidestep it like I’d sidestep shit on a sidewalk, but seriously, here.” He picked up one of the books he’d shoved back and flipped it open to a random page. “Read it.”

John was still irritated as he took the book and scanned the poem, but when he started reading, it slowly faded. His voice was warm as he spoke, making his way through each line, holding the dramatic pauses just long enough to feel right, and brought out everything he was complaining about having lost not even five minutes ago.

It was tough not to keep his eyes on him as he spoke, and though he’d ripped on Hana a bit for mooning over this, after listening for a few he had to give it to her. It wasn’t half-bad. He’d still rather go for a night of disco, a round or five at the Spread Eagle, and time spent speeding down the trails in an ATV with a pack of cherry bombs, but not bad.

“Well?” John said, once done.

Sharky gestured down towards his lap. “I’ve got a quarter chub here so that might need some work, but everything else? …Nice. That’s mighty nice.”

He rolled his eyes, and sighed. “Thank you for sharing that.”

“Course. Thought it was only fair for you to get an honest, unbiased opinion of how you’re doing.”

John pulled over another book over, eyeing Sharky as he did, and opened it. The poem he settled on this time was slightly different, but kept fire as its focus. Midway through, he watched as John reached over to him, and tugged the sheet out of the way.

Then his hand was on his cock, slowly stroking him as he kept on going, not pausing or hesitating once as his eyes remained set on the book. That lit a fire in him for sure, and Sharky struggled to keep his hands to himself as John continued.

Thirty words hadn’t been much before. Now, it was borderline cruel and unusual. John kept everything level. Everything even, as if this wasn’t happening right next to him.

“Better?” he asked, once he’d snapped the book shut.

His hand was still moving, though the strokes became surer now. Faster as John turned to look at him directly. Swallowing hard, Sharky shifted his hips to rock into the motion. “Think we’re at three-quarters now, give or take. But that last one? Go for that.”

“Are you certain? I’d hate for you to say that knowing full well your bias towards activities like this. …And also, the subject matter.”

“Nah, it’s-it’s good.”

“Perfect?” John asked, leaning towards him. “You know I won’t accept anything less.”

Sharky looked at him, really looked at him, taking in the blue of John’s eyes and the way his lips had parted, and knew that after cleaning everything up they were about to have another mess on their hands.

He couldn’t help but smile. “Perfect.”

The door creaked as Sharky opened it, just enough to slip through without making any extra noise, but almost slammed shut when he let go of it.

His coordination had gone to shit sometime in the last ten minutes. Pushed along by a mix of exhaustion and the pleasant ache still running through him, he was beat. The best kind of beat to be, but beat regardless.

Resting his head against the metal surface for a moment, he leaned back when he had his bearings again, blinking against the dark as he started pulling his clothes off, and didn’t think his and Hana’s joint beds had ever looked as good as they had in that moment.

Not the least of which because of the person sprawled out on them. Stretched out, her limbs either curled up in the blanket or sticking out at odd angles, Hana was out like a light. And somehow just as fucking pretty dead asleep as she was awake and smiling up at him.

He took three steps towards the emptier side of the bed and faceplanted right onto it. It shook with the impact, and he let himself sink down into the mattress.

“…Hey, stranger.”

“Hey, Dep.” Sharky’s words went straight into his pillow, and he heard her laugh. It was softer, rough with sleep, and he hummed in contentment when he felt her fingers brush through his hair. There were a few things guaranteed to make him putty in her hands, and this was one of them. “Missed you.”

“Hmm?”

He turned his head towards her, and took in the bedhead she was currently rocking. “Missed you tonight.”

“Did you? I missed you too.” He tried to kiss her hand, ending up grazing her wrist instead, and Hana shifted it to stroke his cheek. “Funny how this setup’s almost too small with all of us on it, but huge when it’s just a party of one.”

“I hear you.” He kissed her again, and held his hand over hers. “It just ain’t the same.”

She shifted forward to curl up next to him and he wrapped her up in his arms. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he buried his face in her hair after, focusing on her slow, steady breaths.

He was right on the edge of sleep when he heard her speak up again. It was muffled this time, and he struggled to hear her clearly. “What’s that, shorty?”

“How’s John doing? Still his stubborn, charming self?”

“Yeah, ‘bout the same as he usually is,” he murmured.

“I bet. Didn’t give you too hard of a time?”

That made him go through a few responses. Some funny, some raunchy, some a hell of a lot more sentimental than he was expecting, but he settled for one that was straightforward. “Nah, he was all right. …More than all right. Don’t know if he really needed the help he thought he did, but…”

“He made it worth it?”

“Yeah,” he said, grinning in spite of himself. “I think he did.”

She moved in his arms, and he felt her press her lips to his cheek. “You know you can’t tease me about this anymore, right? That right’s hereby been revoked.”

He cracked open an eye to look at her. “Come on, I can get one in.”

“Can you? Really?”

“Though I know you like it better with two or three, so maybe if you let me wiggle it just right-”

He scored a pillow to the face for that one.

Yeah, totally worth it.

[thunder-the-ranger-wolf]

A World of Difference (BNHA story)

Summary: That premise where Izuku is a year older and ends up in the class that gets expelled before the canon class 1A. 

Something gave him a bad feeling about this year’s class. He didn’t know what, exactly, but he knew to trust his instincts. None of these kids would last a day in the hero world, and not just because they were crowded around two kids chanting “Fight! Fight! Fight!” like a bunch of elementary school kids.

No, that was indeed confirmation. But there was more to this. 

“Fall in!” He barked out. Some of them glanced up, saw his glare, and scampered to their seats. The rest of the class was too focused on one of their own getting pummeled. 

“He said to fall in!” 

He forgot that Mic had been right behind him when he walked into his room, had been so thoroughly unimpressed by the state of his students. But Mic’s Quirk was good for more than a few things. Right now it was getting people’s attention. He nodded his thanks and Mic went to sit behind the teacher’s desk, a spot he wouldn’t inhabit until he was done talking. 

The students all shuffled nervously to their seats. It turns out that the pair who’d been fighting had the same seat but shouldn’t be near each other due to an old rivalry. Something he would have to rectify with assigned seating.

“Dude, what’s up with the caterpillar act?” Someone called out. 

“It’s a sleeping bag. I sleep.” He offered dryly. “But you kids can’t be left alone for five minutes, now can you? I was going to give you all a chance to show off your Quirks but now you’ll do an essay.” 

“Is it gonna be on why fighting is wrong?” Someone simpered. 

These little shits would absolutely be testing his patience. 

“Togamiru, welcome to the class. Congrats on your relationship. But if you could pull up your pants and tell your partner to use mouthwash before he speaks, your classmates would appreciate it.”

“This class is definitely one for the books, eh?” Mic snickered as the pair made for the front of the room. 

“If you walk out that door, don’t bother coming back.” Aizawa informed them. 

The partner scoffed and spat at him. Mic narrowly avoided the kid’s terrible aim and rummaged through the desk for a pack of wipes and some hand sanitizer. 

“The essay is not going to be on why fighting is wrong, Kumitoru. The essay will be five-thousand words on your favorite hero and how they contribute to the community around them. This will likely take the rest of the class, so you best get started.” 

Most of the class had some objection to that and some of them were more verbal than others. 

“There’s no way I’m doing some dumb fucking essay on the first day!” A boy in the front row snapped. 

“Well, Rosuru, as your previous two classmates have shown, you are very much free to leave, so long as you don’t come back.” 

The boy deliberated for a few minutes before shaking his head. 

“This isn’t worth it.” He scoffed. “They’re not like this at Shiketsu, I promise you that!” 

“I know what they’re like at Shiketsu, Rosuru, and I doubt you would like it there either.” 

“We’re supposed to be heroes! How is an essay supposed to help us save people?!” 

“Well, if you think about the subject for more than a second you might see why I assigned it.” 

“Fuck you, old man!” 

“I don’t do kids.” Aizawa deadpanned. “For that matter, if you say that to someone and they take you up on it, run. As far and fast away as you can, because those words get you nothing good.” 

“Cryptic bastard. I don’t need this!” 

“As I said, you are free to go.” 

 There was his second (or was it third? That kid sucking off Togamiru probably wasn’t in his class… he’d have to look into that.) student for the day. 

“Start writing, children. I want as much as you can get me by the end of the session.” 

Some breathed exaggerated sighs of relief while others glared venomously at him. 

Ten students are left by the end of the day. The rest hadn’t taken their assignments seriously. Some of them had written about how amazing their Quirks were, some had written about how awesome their personal heroes were. Some had written about whatever the fuck they wanted, and that wouldn’t stand. A student who couldn’t follow directions turned into a hero who got people killed. 

Aizawa found that walking into his second day that only one student had come in and found his seat. He handed the student his paper and waited for another half-hour before taking it back. 

“I wasn’t done-!” 

“Did you honestly think you could get five-thousand words done in not even two days?” 

“I figured it was a drawn-out assignment when you took the papers back at the end of the day, Sensei. Still, I went home and did some research on the programs set in place because of-.”  

The boy cut himself off when he noticed Aizawa moving away, but the homeroom teacher waved his hand. 

“Keep talking, but come on. We’re going to test your skills today.” 

“I went home and did some research on the programs set in place because of things like destruction of property. There are a bunch of initiatives that die almost on-the-spot because no one Agency can keep them up.” 

“How so?” Aizawa wondered.  

“Ryukyu, the Dragon Hero, has fought for her interns with less powerful Quirks to be recognized as heroes in their own right. The Iida family sets up their employees who don’t have proper homes with everything they’d need to get one more immediately. It’s not as easy as giving them more money because if they could just buy everyone houses then someone probably would have tried by now, but like my mom can tell you, even just paying for rent some places can wipe out savings and there’s not much that your job can do about it but maybe give you a higher raise. I got off track, though, we were talking about hero initiatives.” 

“I think we should pick this conversation up tomorrow after I do some research myself. This is some interesting work you’ve done. Now how far can you throw this ball?” 

The kid’s name was Midoriya, and he passed the Hero Course Entrance exam by his own genius and pure luck. He also managed to persuade Nedzu to allow him the use of some homemade gadgets, after impressing him with knowledge of the millions of ways the principal’s Quirk, High-Spec, could be used in a number of fields. 

Everyone else has a natural advantage, Midoriya had informed the principal. Why not allow me to level the playing field? 

That’s how the kid seemed to do everything, Aizawa noticed. The kid was smart and he knew it. Able to spout off facts about any given hero the second a name was dropped. Able to break down and rearrange any Quirk he was informed of.

The green-haired boy was a bag of tricks physically as well as mentally. He wasn’t able to go toe-to-toe with Aizawa or Vlad King, though he tried just for the hell of it. But he knew that. His emphasis was on dodging and letting his opponent’s actions turn back on them. 

It’s how he’s gotten rid of many a childhood bully, he informed his teacher cheerfully. This, after literally tripping Aizawa over his unraveled capture weapon and sending him sprawling with one yank. 

“Very good.” Aizawa groaned as he lumbered to his feet. “Can you pick out weak spots like that on the fly?”

“Yes, but it took some major training and a lot of hero fights.” Midoriya admitted. 

“What would you suggest for Midnight-san?”

“Nothing.” Midoriya offered flatly. “There is absolutely nothing she can’t do with that Quirk, and since she hangs with you and Present Mic, I’d assume she knows how to fight of her own merits. There is no way I am touching her outfit with a ten-foot pole even if she wasn’t literally right behind you.” 

Aizawa dipped his head in acquiescence and turned to face his friend. 

“That you thought I wouldn’t call you out is amazingly stupid. That Midoriya did was rather impressive.” He told her. The Rated R Hero snorted, which turned into an all-out giggle. 

“You’re a gem, Aizawa,” She crowed, leaning her full weight into the hug she was giving him. “A diamond in the rough. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.” 

“Vlad generally acknowledges that I’m hard to ruffle, but thank you anyway. What exactly do you need from me right now?”

“Oh, right. Yagi wanted to see if you were busy. I think he’s nervous about actually teaching this year instead of just being part of the staff. Poor guy was muttering over his notes all morning.” 

“Well, I just so happen to be finishing up this session. It’s onto Vlad for you, Midoriya.” Aizawa informed the boy. His student nodded, waved to both of them, and sped towards the main building.

“I still can’t believe you only kept one student.” Nemuri scowled, standing on her own feet so she and Aizawa could follow Midoriya. “Out of twenty-three.” 

“I never said they were expelled. They could come back if they wanted to. Technically they’re skipping class of their own accord.” 

“They dropped out and you know it, Sho-chan. I’m shocked this kid lasted as long as he did. Did you really make them write five-thousand words on the first day?” 

“I wanted the assignment to take up the first few classes. They were literally watching two kids fight to what would have been the death. Mic was there, he could tell you.” 

“And your first expulsion, they were…” 

“Maybe don’t ask Mic about that one. He might genuinely be traumatized.”

“Fair enough. But what’s so special about this kid in particular?”

He comes back.” Aizawa snorted. “I’ve scared all the others off or bored them off or reprimanded them somehow. I knew something was up with this set of kids but I honestly didn’t think it’d be this easy to get them all out of my hair.” 

“Re-evaluating your teaching methods?” Nemuri teased, knowing the exact opposite to be true. 

“More like wondering if this next crop of heroes will be ready for the world.” Aizawa admitted. “I might have driven them away, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have other options. If they’re smart, they’ll re-evaluate themselves before taking such chances again.”

“And if they’re not?” Nemuri promoted warily. 

“Well, that’d be to everyone’s detriment.”