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crisalidaseason · 8 months

Note

obsessed with your kenuri universe and would love to see some kenny/kuchel fluffy sibling time (why'd have to kill heeeer jk)

You ask and I shall deliver. This took me longer than I wanted (I should have posted it in December but I was very depressed). Also, sorry for having to K my sweet Kuchel, but she is very much alive in this!

Family chaos on Christmas - the prequel

Summary: Kenny is miserably working on the holiday season, Kuchel is very pregnant and Uri is worming his way into Kenny's heart.

Content warning: within my family chaos universe, modern au, a prequel of sorts, some angst, mentions of pregnancy and labor, Kenny is a good brother, Kenny is tired and anxious, mentions of anxiety, slight descriptions of anxiety attacks, fluff, some domestic vibes, sibling bond, pining (Kenny/Uri)

__________________________________________________________

Kenny waited five seconds after she left to immediately switch the door sign from open to closed.

“Happy holidays, mister Ackerman” the old woman waved as she finally left the shop.

“Happy holidays, ma’am”

“Fucking finally”

The young man wanted nothing more than to end that shift. He thought it should be a crime to work on December 24th.

“Who fucking needs repair tools on Christmas?? You know, if people were less stupid and more organized all shops could close on holidays”

He had complained while getting ready for work that morning. Kuchel - the little shit that she was - just laughed at his annoyance.

“At least the owner let you close earlier, Ken. It could have been worse”

He huffed while recalling the short conversation. It was easy for Kuchel to not relate to his misery, she never worked on holidays even before she went on maternity leave. For him, working six instead of eight hours on Christmas made no difference in the end, since traffic would probably take the rest of his sanity away.

“Fuck off” he screamed loudly as he hit yet another traffic jam. It took 30 extra minutes for him to finally arrive at the apartment complex. He groaned while parking, Kuchel’s car was almost giving up - that old thing would die on them any day, Kenny was dreading it. He managed to park and almost cried in relief. Finally home!

Well. He may have rid himself of work, but home was another rollercoaster to get through.

“Kenny!” the woman greeted him from the living room/kitchen couch “took you long enough”

The older ackerman was sitting comfortably on the couch, reading a book, a heavy blanket covering her round middle section and many pillows stacked around her.

“Have you eaten?” the man asked “I thought about take out, but traffic was impossible to go through”

“I snacked a little, it’s fine” she assured him, but her face said otherwise.

She finally reached the ninth month - or, according to her, the 39th week - of her pregnancy. Kuchel was huge and feeling as uncomfortable as her appearance suggested. The last few weeks were filled with low mobility and badly assembled snacks.

“What about some chicken salad?” he suggested “I pre-made some seasoned shredded chicken”

The woman’s eyes beamed at him.

“Kenny, you’re a lovely lovely brother, you know that?”

He groaned.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever”

Despite his initial stress and tiredness, there was a calming property in cooking a tasty chicken salad. He was far from a good student in school, but the ‘chemistry’ and ‘physics’ of food always fascinated him, he wished life could subside enough for him to spend more time experimenting with cooking. The satisfaction of eating a good meal was a recent comfort he was thankful for everyday.

“Here” he handed his sister the plate with plenty of the chicken salad “beverage?”

She motioned the half full bottle of guava juice on the kitchen table, silently denying his question. The Ackerman man sat down on the ground, with his own plate on his lap, leaving a groan of relief at the first bite. He turned the television on, looking for something interesting to watch but only finding Christmas movies or news.

“Go back!” Kuchel’s voice almost startled him.

“What? The stupid christmas movie?”

She nodded fervently while still chewing. Kenny shook his head and went back to the channel playing a movie - what seemed to be one of those holiday rom coms.

“I thought you hated romcoms,” Kenny commented.

“I do”

Kenny had learned early on that pregnancy made Kuchel even weirder. From the moment she found out the unexpected demon spawn in her uterus, she had weird cravings (not only for food, there were a few weeks she could only sleep by watching animal documentaries). He learned to not question after a while, it kept things easy to handle.

“Do you think family Christmas dinners are always like that?” she pointed her fork at the tv “It seems so inaccurate”

Kenny shrugged. Still focused on his plate.

“Well, it doesn’t snow here in december so safe to say it might not be so accurate” his sister concluded on her own.

They kept eating in silence and the movie proved to be just as stupid as it promised, though he heard sniffling behind him. Now, if there is something Kenny learned ever since he and his sister finally left the foster system to live together was that you don’t question her feelings - especially pregnant. He almost considered patting her on the shoulders in comfort but remembered she still had a good aim and her flip flops were right there, ready to be thrown.

“What a stupid movie” she mumbled.

He stood up, taking Kuchel’s plate and finally building courage to do the dishes despite his exhaustion. He heard his sister turn off the television and certain sounds indicated she was leaving her cocoon of blankets and pillows, grunting during the entire process.

“You okay there?” he asked while hanging the dishes to dry.

It was safe to say Kenny panicked a bit too often with Kuchel’s every display of discomfort - the nervousness of her due date always on the back of his mind. The young man was not feeling prepared at all for the big day even with his sister’s advice and thorough explanations of the process - although Kuchel herself was very new to this and also terrified despite not admitting.

“Yes Kenny, the boy isn’t coming out until next week. Relax…Uh!” she let out a shriek.

He hated her so much. Kenny ran to the living room, trying to see any signs of wetness indicating that the antichrist wanted out, instead he found his sister peering down at his phone - which was silently vibrating with a call.

“It’s your loverboy” she smiled at him like the little shit that she was “pick it up or I will”

“He isn’t-” he sighed, giving up this fruitless conversation they always had and picking up the phone.

“Hello” Kenny answered.

“Good evening, Kenny, is it bad timing?”

“No, not at all!” He dried his hands on his beat up jeans, Kuchel waving crazily in front of him.

“Great! I just wanted to call because I thought a message felt a bit too distant. I know you said you don’t celebrate Christmas, but I just wanted to wish you and Kuchel a special good night’s rest.”

The noises on the background indicated Uri, his neighbor, was probably at a family gathering at his family home, Kenny could hear loud voices and holiday music playing softly.

“Thank you Uri, we appreciate it”

Kuchel was staring at Kenny so intensely he felt a hole on his forehead, her insistent mouthing of “Can I talk to him?” “Let me talk to him!!”, distracting the man.

“In fact, she is right here dying to talk to you”

Uri laughed - a pretty sound that was - and asked to talk to Kuchel.

“Hey Uri! I haven’t seen you today but I wish you a wonderful christmas” His sister beamed at the cellphone.

She talked shortly to the other man, thanking Uri for the well wishes. Kenny was grateful his sister did not try to embarrass him this time - he had enough of her hinting to Uri that Kenny had a slight (giant) crush on the Reiss man.

“Your sister is a lovely woman. I’ll bring some food for you two when I head home”

“Nah, It’s okay, Uri. No need”

“No, I insist Kenny. We have plenty of food here anyway and I know you’ve been working a lot lately. At least we keep Kuchel with a sustainable meal to eat when you’re not home tomorrow”

“You convinced me, but don’t come crying to me when she forces you to have dinner with us and show you the same ultrasound pictures again” Kenny said, chuckling.

To that Kuchel raised her middle finger, mouthing a “fuck you, Kenny”

“Nothing more wonderful than spending the evening with Ackermans” Uri chuckled - what a pretty sound “I have to go, Frieda is looking at me like I am committing a crime, but I see the two of you soon”

They said their goodbyes and the call went off, Kenny’s heart was doing strange jumps on his ribcage - he was down bad for that man. Kuchel was sitting on the couch, smiling like a mad woman and clapping her hands.

“Not a word” he warned her.

“For the love of god, Kenny, ask that man on a date!”

He ignored her while heading for a shower, if he let Kuchel speak about Uri he would probably end up dealing with feeling he was too tired to process. Kenny preferred to like Uri from a distance - just being neighbors that got along well. His sister constantly telling him the Reiss man was into him did not help at all.

“Not only is he clearly interested, but he is so kind and patient, Ken! Give the poor man a little chance” she would say.

Kenny tried not to think about it, failing miserably though. He had many opportunities to meet Uri on a more romantic level, the man had invited him for coffee so many times and Kenny always refused politely. He was afraid, Uri did not know the mess he was in the head. And the worst part: Uri was really patient and understanding and respectful and observant…Kenny had a problem.

“I’m gonna sleep” Kenny knocked on his sister’s room “need anything else?”

“No! Everything okay. You should sleep, Ken”

He wished her a good night and flopped into his bed, slumber quickly taking him.

He never had dreams, only nightmares or an empty sleep. That night though, he dreamed about him and Kuchel sitting on a huge table full of food. His sister had a nice elegant red dress, contrasting with her long dark hair. Kenny himself looked down to see a nice set of pants and button up shirt. The decorations screamed Christmas - there was even snow outside!- but what surprised him was seeing Uri beside him, equally well dressed…with a baby in his arms. The small little human seemed to be pushing one year old, almost pink in color, pouty face, dark hair, looking at Kenny with light colored eyes.

“You want your uncle, little one?” Uri said, bouncing the child slightly.

As if he had no control, Kenny felt his arms reach out to the baby, his voice coming out in equal involuntary action.

“I know, I’m your favorite” his voice sounded…happy. Not that he was against having a nephew, he just struggled to have a connection with someone he had never met. But in that moment, looking at light blue eyes, he wondered if he could measure how dear that boy was.

“Typical of Levi to prefer the one who calls him demon spawn” Kuchel said.

The dream faded slowly, with the last scenes of a baby on his lap while they celebrated Christmas just like that stupid movie they were watching. He woke up feeling a strange sense of missing something. Of sadness. He stayed in bed for longer than usual, wondering why he dreamed of that. His only family was Kuchel for as long as he remembers, everything different than that seemed terrifying.

The boy seemed so real. What about Uri? Could he ever be anything more than a friendly neighbor?

Deciding that he can’t afford having an existential crisis, the man finally decided to start his routine, but early morning finally came to test Kenny's bowels. As soon as he saw Kuchel enter the kitchen, seemingly uncomfortable and walking weirdly, he panicked once again.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Kenny asked again - to his own demise.

“Kenny!” His sister warned him.

“I’m just worried, you seem to be hurting quite a lot”

Kuchel looked at him unimpressed, not answering. She had woken up that morning complaining of a few contractions.

“It’s probably false alarm, Kenny, but it still sucks”

Kenny was in a full pit of anxiety at that point. Everytime she had a false alarm he panicked anyway, a single sneeze and that spawn would pop out of her. He didn't think she would make it to an entire week.

“I’m gonna try and call your doctor again”

Kenny tried once again the number, without success.

“We should go to the hospital, Kuch” he tried again to convince her.

“No! They’re just going to send us home again, let’s see if it progresses and then we go”

Kenny was honestly tired, and scared, but he nodded. It took several minutes for Kuchel to finally convince him to go to work for at least the morning shift, but he was not able to concentrate well. He checked her text messages constantly, alongside Uri’s.

Uri Reiss Neighbor: I’m with her, if anything happens I’ll rush her to the hospital

You: Thanks Uri, I promise I��ll be back by 2pm since it’s Xmas day

Uri Reiss Neighbor: No need to thank me, see you soon. I’m making lunch if that’s okay.

That man was a fucking saint. Kenny was down bad. He had to concentrate while trying not to fall in love with that man or dying of worry for his sister. Work was haphazardly done, Kenny practically breaking traffic laws to go home, practically climbing the stairs to his apartment floor, thinking he would have to immediately rush her to a hospital for the antichrist to be born…just to find Uri and Kuchel sitting quietly on the dinner table, tea in front of them and a deck of cards.

“Good afternoon, Kenny” Reiss greeted him.

“Hi, Ken”

Kenny looked at his sister with confusion. She seemed composed and calm. Uri - as always - was well dressed, smelling like a hundred yards of soft flowers, calmly playing with Kuchel.

“The contraction stopped as soon as you left” she said, pointing to her huge stomach “maybe he doesn’t like you”

Kenny groaned, sitting on the couch to catch his breath.

“Demon spawn” he mumbled, smiling discreetly.

Kuchel turned, burning him with her eyes.

“He is a perfect little angel”

That was another bickering Kenny did not want to continue so he just surrendered. But he was a demon child! Anything born from an Ackerman was demonic - Kenny was an absolute nightmare as a kid and he was already dreading that baby.

“Hungry?” Uri asked “There is a plate for you in the microwave”

His noisy stomach answered for him, guiding his already tired self to the kitchen. The food was probably from the family dinner Uri went to last night, good quality meat and tasty sauce. He wondered if he could reproduce that recipe one day and maybe make a special dinner after the baby was born. He ate on the table while watching his sister and Uri play with the cards, attentively listening to Kuchel's gossip of the apartment complex group chat. She was bored to death most days, watching people from the balcony and stalking the chat seemed to be the entertainment of the century.

“It’s okay, Uri, now that Kenny is here he can keep an eye on me” his sister said once Uri hesitated to return to his family’s home.

“I’ll return tomorrow morning. My mother really insisted that I return to the church’s dinner tonight but if anything happens you can call me” he assured the Ackerman siblings before reluctantly leaving.

“He is such a nice man” Kuchel quietly said once Kenny had closed the door “I know I bother you with it, but I really think he would be a good match”

Kenny smiled a little, sitting beside his sister on the couch and softly shoving her with his shoulder.

“I know, but I really don’t feel ready right now”

Love was not something he thought was possible. Not for him, much like it wasn't for his sister. He felt her hand on his forearm, rubbing him softly.

“I know, take your time” she said in a hushed tone “like I said, he is a very patient man”

Her calm features soon contorted into painful ones. She let a long breath out.

“Another contraction?” he asked.

She nodded, breathing in and out in a slow rhythm.

“It never really stopped, but I did not want to alarm any of you until I was sure it was constant”

“Kuchel! What the actual fuck-”

“Shhhhh” she said “don’t scold me! I am counting them and I can’t do this if both of you keep hovering over me”

Kenny groaned, visualizing himself shaving her hair bald as revenge for the rollercoaster of worry he felt.

“Do you think it’s for real?” he asked her.

Kuchel nodded, holding his forearm strongly.

“I’m scared” she whispered “I don’t know if I can do this, Ken”

Despite his anxiety, he tried to comfort her by holding her shoulders in a strange side hug - typical of a touch terrified Kenny. She rested her head on his shoulder.

“I’ll be with you, Kuch”

And he did. When her contractions became too unbearable and close timing, they left for the hospital in the midst of a starting rain. The streets were calm since it was late at night, everyone most likely at the churches celebrating the holiday.

“Ma’am, my sister is giving birth” he had told the woman at the front desk.

“No father, I’m the one taking care of her” he told the social worker registering the appointment.

“Can you call another doctor then?” he almost yelled when they informed her doctor was MIA.

“Can anyone please check on her for god’s sake?!” he tried to stay calm when nobody would check on his sister when her water broke.

It was a turbulent three hours, time bringing a raging storm that occasionally painted the sky with lightning and thunder. When Kuchel was finally checked on, she was fully ready to push. Kenny was a strong man, but he wanted to die with every scream coming out of his sister’s throat. His hand was still, only because of the iron grip she had on it, otherwise he would be trembling. When the cry of a baby finally broke the room’s chaos, Kenny thought he had lost his hearing. Everything had gone muffled and fuzzy. He did not know, but later the nurses told him that he was almost hyperventilating, still holding Kuchel’s hand despite his eyes losing focus.

“Look at him, Kenny” Kuchel was crying “he is so small”

The baby laying on her chest was nothing like the grown infant of his dream, in fact, that newborn was multiple shades of red and purple, scrunched face and tiny feet, limbs so thin they could be compared to the girth of Kenny’s fingers.

“Sir, breathe in and out, you’ll be fine” said a nurse nearby.

He kept his eyes on the small being, then at his sister. She was sweaty, exhausted and crying profusely. He wanted her cries to be only of happiness, but he knew she was just as terrified of this as he was. They were just two adults with a fucked up story, having to care for a non planned baby. He was barely 25 and had an entire human to watch out for - because he sure would not leave Kuchel to deal with this on her own.

“Welcome, spawn. I’m your uncle” he managed to choke out.

Kuchel laughed, more because of the drugs than actually finding the nickname funny. He spent the entire night watching over a sleeping sister and the baby in the bassinet. He admired as the storm raged in the first hours of the morning, the darkness still outside. His cellphone would occasionally ring with notifications.

Uri Reiss neighbor: I got stuck because of the rain, the streets are flooded. I’ll get there, I promise, but it might take a while. Tell me what I can bring to you or Kuchel.

He smiled at the phone, sending Uri his gratitude. Despite the chaos outside, he felt a strange sense of peace. Maybe it was the medication the nurses administered due to his mini anxiety attack, but he liked to think it was a sign that everything would be alright.

“How are you feeling?” said the slurred voice of Kuchel.

“I should be asking this”

“Well, I'm a bit high” she smiled “and you seem too”

He chuckled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Kuchel looked at the bassinet, warmth in her tired eyes.

“He is out…”

“On a holiday!” Kenny complemented “spawn made sure to be born at the same day of Jesus”

“Fuck you” she laughed “I think he came to force us to celebrate christmas day in a way or another”

Kenny nodded, not doubting for a moment that whatever ruled this world had a strange sense of humor.

“He was almost born on the 26th for just a few minutes” he said “he was determined”

The Ackerman siblings kept the comfortable silence, Kuchel not taking her eyes off the sleeping baby nearby.

“Kenny”

“Hm?”

He looked at her tired eyes, Kenny realizing they were so similar to the baby of his dream.

“I don’t have a name for him”

“You were never satisfied with the thousand names you picked” he replied.

“Maybe something with a ‘K’? To match us” she said.

“That’s horrendous, Kuchel!” he protested “Me and you having a name with a ‘K’ is already atrocious enough”

“You’re right…” she said “I want something that doesn’t come from parents we barely knew”

Kenny deliberated if he should tell her about the name of his dream. Levi…he remembered something about that name in bible study he was forced into by the orphanage. It meant something specific, meant-

“Connection”

Kuchel eyed him as if he had lost his mind.

“Kenny, if this is your suggestion-”

“No, woman, listen!” he interrupted “I mean that he is connected to us only. Your kid, my nephew, nothing else”

“Well, that’s true”

“And Levi means connected, joined” He finally said it.

Kuchel pondered for a moment, analyzing the name by looking at the child’s sleeping shape.

“A biblical name, right? I remember it from church” Kuchel said.

“It’s just a suggestion-”

“I like it” she interrupted this time “Levi. It sounds firm, strong”

She smiled, as if contemplating calling him that for the rest of his life. Kenny thought she would put up a fight - for being the one to carry for months and not choosing the name.

“Levi it is” she concluded.

Kenny nodded, happy that she liked it. He did not know if his dream was prophetic or just an amalgamation of anxiety and nine months of constantly thinking about this other being in their lives.

“Can I ask you something really important?”

He nodded.

“He was born on Christmas” she began “I know we never really liked this day because of all the family bullshit, but now…”

He understood. They were bitter people, but that kid had nothing to do with it.

“We’re gonna give him the Christmas we never had, right Kenny?”

#kenny ackerman #kenny #kuchel ackerman #uri reiss #kenuri #kenny x uri #levi ackerman #levi

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cinnaminsvga · 4 years

Text

Hug-o-gram | Yoongi

→ summary:

“This is probably the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” Yoongi hisses, but it’s kind of hard for Seokjin to take him seriously when he’s wearing a cardboard sign around his neck that says ‘Huggie Wuggie Machine!’ in bubble font.

“Like, even worse than when we DIY’d your car into a convertible by sawing the top off?” Seokjin asks, genuinely curious.

“Worse,” Yoongi admits, trying his best to stay out of your line of sight. His cheeks redden, matching the gaudy pink kitten ears he was forced into wearing.

{or alternatively: Seokjin is a terrible wingman. He also runs a profitable business by sending hugs to people’s crushes for a fee. Mix them together and you have a recipe for Min Yoongi’s worst nightmare.}

→ genre: college!au, hugging booth!au, fluff, humor → warnings: yoongi is so smitten that he’s a walking disaster, so much shy!yoongi to the point where you’ll want to scream, seokjin just tryna get his homie some y/n love coochie bro ;o; → words: 13.3K → a/n: another commission by the lovely @jincherie because she’s epic like that!! she literally just told me to write whatever the hell i wanted and well... yoobie got me Good... anyway here’s more yoongi fluff bc apparently i’m a fluff writer now and sometimes i just want my boy to be happy... appa yip yip

Kim Seokjin makes a lot of good decisions. He also makes plenty of bad ones, but he likes to think the score is lying heavily towards the positives. Min Yoongi will be the first one to quickly disagree, but Seokjin doesn’t let it get to him. He doesn’t make it his business to listen to opinions that don’t immediately align with his, anyway; he likes to call it “selective hearing.” Yoongi calls it stupidity. Either way, the point still stands: Seokjin knows a good idea when he sees one. Case in point:

“This automatic popcorn machine is absolutely divine,” Seokjin moans, his mouth agape as he waits for the Mister Popcorn Robot to bestow him with another morsel of goodness.

“Yeah,” is Yoongi’s verbose reply. He also has his mouth agape, his prone body lying side by side with his roommate of four years in their small living room. Their roomba (another one of Seokjin’s good ideas) cleans all around them, its steady whirring serving as their only source of background music. “Lowkey though, I think our position isn’t quite… as optimized as it could be.”

“What do you mean?” Seokjin asks, as he drapes his leg over Yoongi’s. His movement jostles the surrounding popcorn halo around them, as most of the food had missed their mouths by a couple of centimeters. At this point, the roomba has probably eaten more of the popcorn than the two of them combined.

“Nothing,” Yoongi shrugs, or whatever might be the lying down equivalent of a shrug. Some of the popcorn on his chest falls down, only to be quickly devoured by roomba-chi. Yoongi stares at the ceiling, tracing shapes out of the cracks that Seokjin had accidentally made when he tried using a pogo stick indoors. He points up, catching Seokjin’s attention. “Hey, hyung. Doesn’t that look a bit like Y/N?”

Seokjin squints. “You mean the mysterious brown stain near the lights? I think the toilet from the elderly couple upstairs might have leaked that.”

“No, you dipshit. The squiggly curve over there. It reminds me of her smile.” Yoongi says. There’s a stupid dopey grin on his face and Seokjin wants nothing more than to wipe it off.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Seokjin groans, turning over to envelop Yoongi in a sweaty half-armed hug. The buttery residue on his arms and stomach leaves something to be desired, but Yoongi doesn’t scoot away. He only continues to sigh dreamily, staring mindlessly at the image of you that only his lovelorn brain can imagine.

Seokjin slaps Yoongi in the face. “Dude, get a fucking grip,” he grouses, giving Yoongi a serious look. The younger doesn’t break out of his trance, further irritating him. “Will you stop pining in front of my popcorn? It’s seriously making roomba-chi lose her appetite!”

To his credit, roomba-chi did seem to be slowing down, though that could also be because it had overloaded with popcorn and was seconds away from exploding. Wouldn’t be the first time, but Seokjin always managed to find a way to save roomba-chi from imminent death. She was like a daughter to him.

“Hyung, you know I can’t. I just… God, I really like her, you know?”

“That’s the third time you said that within the last hour. Believe me, I know.” Seokjin groans, shoving Yoongi away. He sits up, reaching over to the popcorn machine and switching it off. He grabs a fistful of fallen popcorn from the ground and shoves it inside Yoongi’s mouth. “There. That should shut you up.”

“Aw weawwy wike hew, hwung.”

“And yet, you still haven’t done anything after four years,” Seokjin tuts, finally standing up. He stretches his limbs, his joints creaking youthfully. He grabs his phone from the coffee table, nearly dropping it from the butteriness of his fingers. The clock reads 4:32 PM, which means–

“Yoongi, it’s time for me to head to work. You want to come with me today?” Seokjin asks, though he knows what answer he’s going to get. You see, Seokjin’s new booming business is another one of his fantastic ideas, but it is a little... inventive. Sure, Yoongi had scoffed when he had originally suggested the idea, but Seokjin knew that it was going to be a money-maker. Sure, it had taken a few years for the business to really take off, but once it finally did…

Enter Kim Seokjin’s Hug-o-gram Service! Students from his university are able to send anonymous payments directly to him, with little notes attached for their crushes. Each love letter delivery comes with a hug from Seokjin himself, delivered straight to the person without them ever knowing who the hug came from. It was ingenious! It was lucrative! But most of all…

It allowed Seokjin to cause drama and have an excuse for it! Nothing could have been more perfect for a man like him.

“No thanks,” Yoongi snorts, rolling over to face him. He watches from the floor as Seokjin changes into a butter-less shirt, which also happens to have his own face printed on the front and back. His trusty cardboard sign that reads “I’m Gonna Glomp Ya!” also joins his attire for the afternoon, a long piece of string tied to its edges so that he can wear it around his neck. Throwing on a pair of white sneakers with the tags still attached, Seokjin is ready to tackle today’s list of would-be hug-ees.

“How do I look?” Seokjin asks, combing his hair with his fingers. It leaves an oily sheen, which he somehow makes it work.

“Ugly,” Yoongi says, like a liar.

“It’s okay, I understand. I can speak tsundere, so you don’t need to explain,” Seokjin snickers, nearly getting hit with a TV remote by Yoongi. He opens his phone again, swiping to his e-mail to see his list of hug deliveries for the day.

Seokjin gets around 10 requests a day, with around half of them coming from regular clients. He’s especially fond of this boy who has been sending hugs to his TA named Namjoon for almost a month now. He has no idea why this kid has so much disposable income, though seeing the blush on Namjoon’s face everyday makes Seokjin think that he would spend every last penny for him too. Namjoon had begged Seokjin for his secret admirer’s identity, but snitchin’ isn’t a part of his service, unfortunately.

As much as Seokjin wants to know who is crushing on who, his little business wouldn’t work as well as it did if anonymity wasn’t included in his package deal. It allows people to thirst in public without facing the repercussions, like getting a knee to the groin or a slap to the face. Not that Seokjin has ever been at the receiving end of that; everyone loves him! Like, have you seen him? He must have saved a civilization in the past with how devastatingly beautiful his forehead is.

“Why am I suddenly filled with the relentless urge to deck you right now?” Yoongi says, getting up to change into clean clothes as well. His black t-shirt unfortunately does not have Seokjin’s face on it, but that can quickly be amended if the elder of the two decides to follow his every intrusive whim.

Seokjin laughs, completely unaware of the murderous capabilities of his friend. Due to his smaller body size, his percentage of evil is unusually concentrated. “Maybe it’s because you know that I’m into pain pla–” but Seokjin’s retort suddenly grinds to a halt. He chokes mid-sentence, coughing wildly as he pounds his chest with a balled-up fist. When Yoongi looks up at him, he finds his hyung staring slack-jawed at his phone, seemingly flabbergasted by what he finds on his screen.

“What’s the matter? Accidentally sent a dick pic to your prof again?” Yoongi snorts.

“That was one time! And no, it’s…” Seokjin trails off, uncharacteristically hesitant. He shifts his gaze from his phone to Yoongi, a drop of sweat quickly forming on the back of his neck. Yoongi raises a brow, silently urging him to continue.

Instead of replying, Seokjin hands him his phone. Yoongi finds a copy of one of Seokjin’s newest hug requests, only having just received it five minutes ago. As he scrolls down, he finds that this secret admirer is a new client, but that isn’t what made Seokjin stop in his tracks. Instead, it’s the recipient of the hug that catches his attention–

“Y/N has a secret admirer?” Yoongi says, voice cracking at the end. He clears his throat, trying his best to school his face into something less… jealous. He swivels away from Seokjin, forcing himself to breathe slowly through his nose. He convinces himself that he is the very epitome of calmness.

“You okay there, Yoongi? You look like you’re about to vomit,” Seokjin says, immediately breaking his inner peace. Yoongi groans loudly, shucking the phone over his shoulder, uncaring of where it lands. Seokjin, with his superhuman and God-given reflexes… doesn’t catch it. But he did dive to the floor like a seasoned Olympian, and his ass cushioned his phone so he supposes that’s a win.

Back to the matter at hand––

“I am fine,” Yoongi says, as he continues to not be fine.

From the floor, Seokjin shoots him a disbelieving look. He lies down more comfortably, propping his head on his elbows. Screw his hug-o-gram appointments for now; nothing brings him more joy than seeing Yoongi absolutely losing it. “Really? So you wouldn’t mind if I marched up to Y/N right now and give her the warmest, coziest, most tender hug of her fucking life?”

“Y… Yes,” Yoongi squeaks, neck glowing a furious red. He has his fists clenched (adorably) by his sides, head bowed as he faces the wall of their apartment. Seokjin’s brain makes the unhelpful comparison of Yoongi with that cat meme who says “no talk me angy” in Impact font.

Seokjin grins, his wickedness from within coiling and yearning to burst from his seams. This is it! Maybe if he pushes a little more, then maybe Yoongi will stop pining like a pathetic loser! Also, it didn’t hurt that he got to push Yoongi’s buttons while he’s at it, but hey! Not all heroes go to heaven or whatever.

He grabs his phone from his ass, scrolling back to the e-mail. “So… You wouldn’t mind if I walk up to Y/N right now and tell her ‘Hey! I’ve had an embarrassingly long crush on you and when I heard about this hugging service… I couldn’t miss the chance to shoot my shot! If you’re single and ready to #mingle, then please meet me at the Corner Cafe at 2 PM tomorrow.’” Seokjin sing-songs, snickering loudly when he sees the absolute pain etched onto Yoongi’s face.

There is a pause, and Seokjin waits as Yoongi uses his tiny kitty brain to think of what to do. He can only imagine what’s going inside his head, but he has a guess. Yoongi could either: 1) finally admit his feelings for you and come clean before Seokjin has to deliver your hug, or 2) do something stupid and counterproductive.

It comes as no surprise when Yoongi goes with option number––

“Hyung, let me come with you to work today,” Yoongi decides, walking over Seokjin’s prone body to their shoe rack. He slides into a pair of sneakers, his harried movements unusual for his customary lethargicness. He grabs a coat from its hanger, stomping his feet to get Seokjin to move faster. “C’mon! We have hugs to deliver.”

“Woah woah woah! Slow down there, Simpimus Prime.” Seokjin gets back up to his feet, skipping over to him. An absolutely feral grin is stretched upon his face. “Am I hearing what you’re saying? Are you offering… to deliver hugs with yours truly? Are you finally going to take up my offer to be an employee at Kim Seokjin’s Hug-o-gram Service?”

“Of course not,” Yoongi scoffs, but his shifting eyes betray him. He fidgets in place, refusing to return Seokjin’s eager gaze. “I just… wanted to go out for once. Yeah.”

“Yoongi.”

“What?”

“You haven’t left this apartment other than to go to class in over a month. You never go out. You’re an indoor cat!”

“I’m not a fucking cat,” Yoongi hisses, like a cat. “And of course I go out! There was that one time I went outside to pick up our food delivery last week.”

Judging from Seokjin’s unimpressed stare, Yoongi’s excuse doesn’t cut it. Yoongi flaps his arms around, defeated. “Okay, fine! I rarely go out! Screw me and the bounteous crapload of assignments I have due! It’s not my fault I don’t have the time to socialize and have fun. What do you want from me?”

What Seokjin wants is to push a confession out of Yoongi, not because he needs the confirmation, but mostly because he just wants to annoy Yoongi and say “I told you so!” He’s also pretty cute when he’s all blushy and tsundere whenever he talks about you. Should he film him and sell the footage on eboys.bb? He’s certain that goth boy over here would make a pretty penny.

“You like krabby patties, don’t you Squidward?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Yoongi sniffs, nose upturned. He opens the door, not looking behind him to see Seokjin’s triumphant expression. “C’mon. Y/N’s last class of the day ends in a few minutes and we might catch her before she leaves the Science Building.”

Seokjin snorts. He is quick to slip his own coat on and he follows soon after. He locks their door shut, hopping over to Yoongi and matching his shorter-legged pace. “Yeah. Because you totally just know her schedule at the top of your head. You know, like a normal person.”

Yoongi ignores him. He trudges on, each step filled with determination as they make their way to Seokjin’s beat-up truck. Seokjin skips alongside him, observing the younger boy and placing bets inside his mind. The drive to campus isn’t that long as it only takes around 10 minutes to get there, but Seokjin guesses that Yoongi’s defenses will begin to chip away only 3 minutes into the drive.

He’ll start to realize the gravity of the situation, the cogs in his smooth and slushy excuse of a brain slowly comprehend what he’s about to witness. He’ll first think about how 1) he’s going to see you and that never helps his poor dainty grandpa heart and 2) he’s going to see you hugging Seokjin as he reads to you the short love confession from your anonymous Romeo. Seokjin bets that after 8 minutes, Yoongi will start to break out into a sweat, leaving gross perspiration marks on his good car seat leather.

After exactly 7 minutes and 34 seconds (Seokjin was keeping track of the time on his dashboard), Yoongi’s face turns an unflattering shade of green. “Dude. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Yoongi had originally offered to drive the two of them to campus, but Seokjin had the good foresight to refuse. Had Yoongi been the one on the wheel, he would’ve brought them back home in an instant due to nerves. So instead, Seokjin speeds up, ignoring Yoongi’s soft whimpers of defeat.

“Too bad, but there is no turning back now. I have six deliveries today and I am not putting my livelihood on the line just because your balls have magically shrunk in size,” Seokjin snickers. He glances at Yoongi from the corner of his eye and feels the slightest touch of pity for the pathetic fool beside him. “But if it really makes you want to shit yourself from anxiety, we could save Y/N for last. Though, on second thought… That could also prolong your misery, which I will always be up for.”

“God, shut up,” Yoongi groans, slamming his head on the dashboard. Seokjin continues undeterred as he pulls into the campus parking lot, waiting for his friend to make up his damn mind for once in his life. He supposes that he is being a little harsh on Yoongi, but there are only so many sad love songs he can listen to without going completely insane.

Aren’t you tired of being nice? The demon on his shoulder cajoles, shoving the corpse of his angel counterpart somewhere down a ditch. Don’t you just want to go apeshit?

And who is Seokjin to deny his impulsive needs anyway?

“No, let’s… just get this over with,” Yoongi decides, head still smushed against his dashboard. He doesn’t make any move to get out of the car, not even when Seokjin shuts off the engine and makes a show of “leaving” Yoongi behind.

“Okay, lover boy. You have ten seconds to get your butt into high gear before I’m leaving you behind. And you should know that I’m not above playing dirty and giving Y/N the sweetest fucking hug of her life that will make her forget anyone else exists in this world, so you better start moving before I–”

Like lightning, Yoongi scrambles out of the car faster than if it had caught on fire (and Seokjin’s car has exploded before and Yoongi certainly did not seem as bothered to escape than he does right now.) He nearly trips over himself in his haste, getting caught by the car door and nearly receiving a concrete facial to boot. He straightens up with as much dignity as he can muster (which he doesn’t have very much of, if at all.) Seokjin is kind enough not to mention anything, but the shit-eating grin on his face is enough to make Yoongi bristle.

They exit the parking lot, looking to the world like the sun and moon had turned human for the day. Min Yoongi, with his all-black attire and gaunt appearance, is heavily juxtaposed with the man who appears to have been vomited on by a rainbow. They walk side-by-side together, accustomed to the stares that often come their way when they go out in public.

“I just can’t believe we’re doing this,” Yoongi moans for the umpteenth time, his movements stilted like a robot. His footsteps look heavily disjointed like his knees were beginning to rust. His arms swing like a pendulum, adding to the unnaturalness of his motions. Basically, he looks like a fucking idiot.

“Who are you calling an idiot?” Yoongi snaps. Seokjin startles a bit, realizing belatedly that he’d said that out loud. Not that he cares. Yoongi continues, “I’m not the one wearing a fucking cardboard sign that looks like a toddler made it with macaroni and glitter!”

“Hey, Taehyung told me it looked good,” Seokjin sniffs, fingering the macaroni pieces dejectedly. “I don’t need to hear an opinion from a Music major.”

“Shut up, Business major. No one likes you fucking snakes,” Yoongi retorts, crossing his arms. “Your definition of fun is going on LinkedIn and using Excel sheets.”

Distracted by their own quarrel, neither of them notice the sound of the large clock in the middle of campus that chimes every hour, signaling that it was already 5 PM. A few minutes later, hoards of students begin to leave university for the day, the walkways beginning to fill with people as they head home. Amidst the chattering and bustling of everyone trying to get out of the crowd, it is hard to notice that you are also one of the hundreds of people finishing your last class of the day.

But Yoongi notices, as he always does. Call it Y/N intuition, or whatever. “There,” Yoongi points you out over dozens of heads. Seokjin can hardly spot you, but he trusts Yoongi’s weird Y/N-dar to find you without fail. People have begun to notice the two of them, most of whom were whispering excitedly when they notice that Seokjin is in his work attire.

“Oh my god, someone’s getting a hug-o-gram! I wonder who…”

“Have you ever ordered one? I got one for my current girlfriend last month and that’s how we got together.”

“I’ve always wanted to send one, but the prices are insane! Fuck them business students and their capitalist ways.”

“Screw sending a hug to someone else! I wanna order a hug for me. Kim Seokjin is a hot piece of ass.”

(Yoongi swears the last comment had sounded eerily like Seokjin himself, but the older boy’s mouth hadn’t moved in the last minute.)

“Alright, Yoongi. Here’s the plan,” Seokjin leans closer to Yoongi, stage whispering into his ear. Everyone within a six-foot radius is eagerly eavesdropping, not even bothering to pretend that they aren’t. It’s common knowledge that Seokjin basks in their attention, anyway. Yoongi rolls his eyes, urging him to get it over with.

“Y/N is over there, right? Well, I have to send a hug to this guy named Mark Lee too, who just so happens to be over there,” Seokjin points behind them, in the opposite direction of where Y/N was heading, “so here’s my proposition. You go over to Y/N and deliver the hug for me, while I go catch up to Mark so that we can kill one bird with two stones!”

“Excuse me?” Yoongi wheezes, pushing Seokjin away from him. His eyes bug out. “Are you insane? I am not doing that. And the phrase is ‘killing two birds with one stone,’ you fucking idiot.”

“Same shit, Shakespeare! Who cares about numbers!” Seokjin exclaims, exasperated. “Listen, would you rather you hug Mark and I hug Y/N?”

“I would much rather prefer that I stick my whole fist up your anus,” Yoongi seethes.

“Interesting proposition, but maybe for a later time,” Seokjin says, not missing a beat. “Listen, dude. The longer we prolong this little bitchfest you have going on, the farther away Y/N is gonna get. You know I will stop at nothing to deliver her hug anyway, so would you rather you miss your chance right now when I am so magnanimously offering you a shot at getting closer to your crush?”

Even though Yoongi feels like his insides were slowly turning into mashed potatoes, he knows that he had already made a decision long before they left the house. Seokjin is right; this is a good opportunity for him, whether he is willing to admit it out loud. Perhaps it is just because it is Seokjin of all people who is egging him on that preprogrammed him into thinking that this was a bad idea. In all seriousness, it was just a hug, nothing fancy. It isn’t like Yoongi was going to have to kiss you––

(His heart contracts and Yoongi wonders if he’s having a stroke. The thought of your soft lips connecting with his is enough to cause the wind to knock out of his chest. God, Yoongi is so screwed.)

“Why must I always feel as though I am a snail and God is personally salting me,” Yoongi groans, stepping away from Seokjin and heading your way. Behind him, Seokjin hollers in what he assumes is friendly support, but it only further antagonizes Yoongi. The absolute buffoon waves enthusiastically from behind him, a beaming grin almost ready to split his face in two. Yoongi flips him off without looking back.

God fucking dammit. The closer that Yoongi is to approaching you, the stronger the urge to just evaporate like ice cream on hot concrete becomes. He can feel himself perspiring from every corner of his body and he just hopes that his black attire will do well to mask the slimy creature that he is underneath his clothing.

This is all Seokjin’s fault, Yoongi reminds himself. If he hadn’t started this stupid hugging service in the first place, then no one would have ordered a hug for you in the first place. Then Yoongi wouldn’t have to be in this stupid predicament either!

But you could’ve ordered a hug for her if you wanted to, says the annoying part of his brain – the same part that’s always been a little bit too hopeful for Yoongi’s liking. The whispers continue, And she wouldn’t even know it would be you! But more importantly…

“Seokjin wouldn’t know either,” Yoongi huffs irritably because he knows it’s true. The biggest thing stopping him from ever making a move on you, other than his debilitating fear of rejection and heartbreak, is the fact that he’d rather explode into spores than for Seokjin to find out that he’d used his “genius” business idea to get the girl of his dreams.

He’s afraid that one day, Seokjin would magically develop telepathic powers (a fear that Yoongi feels that the majority of the human population should also share) and find out that Yoongi doesn’t actually think his hug-o-gram service is dumb. It’s actually really cute, and Yoongi hates to admit that the success rate of his service is nearly perfect in terms of getting couples together.

But Yoongi is a strong (read: stubborn) man; he’d rather drop dead than allow Seokjin the satisfaction of seeing his business work out for his seemingly hopeless case. Which brings him to the present–

You’re standing by the entrance of the Sciences building. You are dressed nicely as always; Yoongi doesn’t think he’s ever seen you in anything remotely slobby, not even a pair of sweats like any regular uni student. You always look a little bit business proper: the epitome of someone who should be on the student council.

You’re speaking to someone, a younger male student by the looks of it. The hairs on Yoongi’s neck stand at attention and, God forbid, did he just fucking growl? Did he make that sound? By the looks of the students carefully navigating their way around him, Yoongi surmises that he did make that sound. Geez, is he some sort of animal? Is he going to turn into those feral stan accounts on Twitter that salivate over their K-pop boys like it’s their job? He hopes not.

But what if that’s the kid who sent the hug–

Yoongi shuts up his brain before he can let it finish. No, he can’t let himself go down that path. It’ll only cause him to self-combust right then and there, and he isn’t exactly keen on letting you see his entrails anytime soon. That would be the least cool thing to do, he decides. And so, with his brain turned off, he walks over to you, arms swinging robotically by his sides as he forces himself closer.

“Oh thank you so much, Y/N! You’ve been a real help to our club, you know?” The boy (Yoongi can’t believe they’re letting toddlers into university these days!) says, his eyes glittering with an ambition that still hasn’t been killed by the all-consuming dread that comes with university.

You laugh lightly, the sound causing butterflies to flutter excitedly in Yoongi’s chest. “No worries, Soobin. I’m glad I could be of help. If the editorial board needs any more help, don’t be shy to shoot me a message, alright?”

Soobin nods enthusiastically, his head bobbing up and down so quickly that Yoongi was afraid his neck would snap. “No worries, Y/N! Have a good rest of your week!” He waves a cheery goodbye, springing away with his numerous anime keychains on his backpack jingling softly in his wake.

“What a cute kid,” you sigh. You look incredibly fond, and Yoongi hates the bitter coil swimming in the pit of his stomach. That feeling soon fizzles out when you finally turn to face Yoongi. Your eyebrows shoot up, but your expression quickly morphs into one of pleasant surprise. Yoongi’s heart stops for just a moment, feet turning cold. “Yoongi! Oh my goodness, it’s been a hot minute since I’ve seen you! How’s it going?”

Let’s play a game, shall we? How many of Yoongi’s nervous ticks can you spot within the next five minutes? Think of this as the easiest game of Where’s Waldo ever!

“Hnng,” Yoongi stammers, his hand immediately going to scratch the back of his neck. His cheeks pinken, pupils shaking in every different direction as they try to focus on anything but you. It always feels like he’s standing way too close to the sun when he’s around you, hardly able to keep his gaze focused on you. He chooses to stare resolutely at your chin, but even your fucking chin was impossibly cute.

Seriously? Yoongi is a walking shitshow! His inner voice comes back, but this time it sounds uncannily like his roommate. Come on, buddy. Just say hi… You know, like a normal person. “H… Hey, Y/N.”

Success count: 1 point for the Yogurt Machine!

Even though Yoongi felt like he was living his worst nightmare, you still looked every bit like his favorite daydream. You are all smiles, seemingly unperturbed by Yoongi’s slow, embarrassing demise. “It’s so good to see you! Midterms haven’t been too hard on you, I hope?”

“I’ve been better,” he says. Better now that you’re here, he leaves unsaid. God, can you imagine if he said that out loud?

Your mouth drops open, soft cherry blossoms blooming across your cheeks. “Um, what did you say?” you squeak, embarrassed. But certainly not as embarrassed as the boy in front of you.

Yoongi stops breathing. He did not say that aloud, had he? Judging by the awkward silence stretching between the two of you, the signs are pointing to: yes. Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygo–– “Er, what I mean to say is,” Yoongi stutters through his sentence, his entire body flushing fire engine red like it’s nobody’s business. He must look like Satan’s spanked ass right now. “I… I’m here to deliver a hug!”

Confusion quickly replaces the shock on your face. You tilt your head, brows scrunching up cutely. “A hug?” you ask.

“R-right,” Yoongi says, waving his arms around because he has nothing else better to do. He gestures vaguely in the opposite direction, where Seokjin had left to find his other clients. “I’m, uhh… Helping my roommate. Have you heard of Seokjin’s hug-o-gram service?”

“Oh, yeah!” You hop excitedly in place, looking to all the world like the cutest thing in the universe. Yoongi thinks you should be classified as a public hazard, what with how you’re somehow able to give him diabetes just from standing next to him. “I totally heard about that! I’ve always wanted to send a hug, but I’ve always been a little shy.”

That piques Yoongi’s interest immediately. You wanted to send a hug? But to who? He unconsciously clenches his jaw, and he can feel a vein pop up near his neck. He forces himself to smile, but he knows it probably looks more like a grimace. “Oh really? That’s… I didn’t know you had a crush on somebody.”

Yoongi is too busy wallowing in his own self-pity puddle that he misses the way you gaze shyly up at him through your eyelashes, your hands clasped behind your back. “Y-yea… I don’t really go around telling it to just anybody,” you shrug as nonchalantly as you can. You clear your throat. “So, are you here to deliver a hug or something?”

Nothing gets past you, huh? Yoongi swallows thickly as he twiddles his thumbs. He still can’t bear to look at you head-on, afraid that his emotions would be too obvious if he did. (Who is he kidding… He knows he’s fucking obvious, and yet you never seem to get the picture!) “Yea, I am. I’m here to deliver one to you, actually.”

He doesn’t get to see your reaction, but he does notice the way your entire body stiffens. His mind immediately starts to run a minute, trying to guess why you’d suddenly gone stock still.

Did you know who your secret admirer was already? Or perhaps, were you just thoroughly shocked to receive one at all? That can’t be it… You’re the campus sweetheart! Surely it’s much weirder that it has taken eons for you to get your first hug… Or perhaps, are you so disgusted by the thought of him delivering the hug? Oh my god, what if you didn’t want him to hug you? Shit, this entire thing is a terrible idea! How did Seokjin ever convince him to do this stupid shit and get his heartbroken in the process? He swears he’s going to shove ten firecrackers up his ass the next time he sees him––

“Um, Yoongi?” You’re staring worriedly at him, your hand semi-raised as if you were about to wave in front of him. Did you say something? He must look like a fucking prick to you! He shakes his head, trying desperately to get his mind back into his body. Why must he be cursed with inner monologue disease? What is he, some sort of shoujo manga male protagonist?

“Sorry about that. I’ve been a little spacey these days,” he laughs, but even he can hear the panic laced in his voice. He sounds just on the edge of being hysterical. “Ahaha… What were you saying?”

“I was just… shocked?” You giggle softly, making Yoongi cry internally. You smirk, mischief glittering in your eyes. “I just never imagined you’d be the type to… I don’t know…”

“Willingly hug people for the sake of capitalism? I feel you,” Yoongi snorts, forgetting for a moment who he’s talking to. “Believe me, I’d rather drop dead than allow Seokjin to use me for his stupid business venture.”

“Then why are you delivering a hug to me now?” you ask, still smiling.

“Hnng,” Yoongi’s tongue feels like it’s grown two sizes all of a sudden. He wheezes, choking on his own spit as he’s caught off guard by your question. “W-well, I––”

“Just being a good friend, I’m guessing?” You’re full-on giggling now, barely trying to hide your mirth behind your hands. Yoongi understands now; you’re teasing him. He hates how amused you are by his awkwardness, but he loves the way your entire expression lights up, like you’re enjoying yourself by being with him.

“Let’s go with that,” Yoongi mumbles, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. He has his head bowed, hoping that his unruly fringe can finally come in handy and hide the disastrous blush encompassing his face. “Right… I’ll just, umm…”

“Am I getting my hug today, or am I gonna have to take a rain check?” You laugh, slapping his shoulder in an attempt to help him shake off the awkward tension. It has the opposite intended effect, as Yoongi’s breath hitches imperceptibly at your proximity. You had taken a step closer, and Yoongi could smell the sweet perfume you always seemed to be wearing. Please don’t pop a boner right now. That would be super fucking creepy.

“You’re…” Yoongi hesitates, arms uselessly immobile by his sides. He doesn’t know if he can even get them to move at this point, as he has lost all motor skills the moment you had focused all your attention on him. It’s a miracle that his heart remembers to beat every so often. “I’m just… I’m just gonna go for it, okay?”

You nod, hands tucked neatly behind your back. “No need to be scared, Yoongi. I don’t bite,” you joke.

God, if you only knew about the dreams I’ve had of you. Yoongi hopes to all the deities from up above that he had not said that aloud, but you don’t seem to be disgusted, so he can only assume that his traitorous brain had disconnected with his mouth for the time being.

He shuffles closer to you, the warmth of your body closing in as he makes the grueling effort to lift his arms up to gently wrap themselves around you, but before he can even fully hug you––

You’re quick to reciprocate. With a small laugh, you wrap your own arms around his torso, nuzzling into his chest with more force than Yoongi was expecting. He lets out a soft wheeze, mouth dropping open when he is assaulted by the smell of your fruity shampoo. His hands hover awkwardly above you, still unsure of where it’s okay to touch you without weirding you out.

You tilt your face up, eyes crinkling cutely by the sheer force of your grin. Both of your faces are only centimeters away from each other, and Yoongi could probably count your eyelashes if he so desired. His breathing stills as he becomes positively mesmerized by the beautiful sight in front of him. He doesn’t even hear the sound of phone camera shutters around him, as he is much too deeply focused on nothing but you, you, you.

“Hey, don’t half-ass your hug! Gimme a good ol’ bear hug!” you whine, nudging his elbows gently to get them to move. Snapped out of his reverie, Yoongi mechanically does as you say, his head completely empty of thoughts. He wraps his arms tightly around your shoulders, his wrist knocking slightly against the back of your head until you’re back to snuggling deep into his chest.

“Your laundry detergent smells nice,” you say, slightly muffled by his shirt. Yoongi lets out a breathy laugh, mostly out of disbelief more than anything. He can’t even begin to process anything right now; he feels like he’s reverted back into a single-celled organism.

“Thanks?” Yoongi squeaks, but you don’t seem to mind his awkward attempts at being a Normal Person™️. You crane your neck upwards so that you’re looking him directly in the eye. There’s a twinkle of mischief there, like you’re enjoying Yoongi’s flushed face a little too much. He honestly feels like he’s seconds away from exploding into tiny bite-sized pieces, and he fears that if you snuggle deeper into his chest, he might just do exactly that.

“So… Are we just supposed to hug for another ten minutes, or am I allowed to let go?”

Yoongi doesn’t even realize how long it’s been. You could’ve been hugging him for ten hours and he wouldn’t have known. Yoongi jerks away from you, nearly vaulting himself across campus by how quickly he lets you go. Thankfully, you don’t appear offended––you were more amused than anything. Yoongi has no idea how red he is right now; he feels like he could be blowing steam out of his ears, astounding anatomists everywhere by his peculiar talent.

“I just have to–” Yoongi pats his back pockets for his phone, clumsily pulling it out and looking for his text messages, “–read this message from your, um, secret admirer and then we’ll be good to go.”

“Great.” You nod at him enthusiastically. “Whenever you’re ready, Yoonie.”

Yoongi’s breath hitches right then, caught off guard by the nickname. Only you ever called him that, and it never fails to make Yoongi’s insides feel like molten lava every time you say it. “I… Yeah, here goes,” Yoongi mutters, trying his best to remember how to speak.

He recites the message with as much enthusiasm as he can manage, which is to say, not very much. He could probably read the phonebook with more zeal, but it’s hard to give it his all when the words feel like acid in his throat. He’s unconsciously clenching his jaw as he speaks, looking like a constipated gorilla. “...so, if you’re single and ready to #mingle, then––” Yoongi stops mid-sentence, staring resolutely at his phone screen with a grimace.

You blink confusedly. “Then?”

“Then nothing,” Yoongi finishes, pocketing his phone without an inch of remorse. “I don’t know what was up with that message, but somehow the letter got cut short. Sorry about that.”

“Huh, strange.” You shrug your shoulders, not bothering to question him.

Yoongi fist bumps himself mentally, though other people might disagree and say that he doesn’t deserve any type of congratulations, to which Yoongi says a big “fuck you!” to those imaginary haters. In the wise words of Kim Seokjin himself, “not everyone is worthy to receive your fucks, so it’s time to stop giving them.” (Kim, 2020)

“Well, that was fun! Thanks for delivering the hug to me, Yoonie,” you pinch Yoongi’s cheek, giggling when they turn even redder. “I’ll see you around, I guess? Don’t let those midterms kill ya!” You wave cheerily at him, walking past him and heading towards the bus stops. Yoongi stands frozen in place, the events of the last few minutes finally catching up to him and frying his brain beyond repair.

Oh my god, he fucking hugged you! Like, a good and genuine hug! You felt so warm and so soft and you smelled really good and it was more than he could ever imagine and just––

Yoongi’s brain is trying (and failing) to desperately parse the delayed barrage of information as it comes, but it’s hard for the little hamster running circles in his head when it has never had to run a day in its life. Yoongi’s body feels like it’s overheating even though the weather is nearing the start of winter, but that’s all thanks to you and the devastating effect you have on him.

In short, Yoongi machine has broken, and any sort of maintenance is going to be hard to come by at the moment.

Yoongi could have been standing in front of the Science building for an entire year and he wouldn’t have budged until a tornado in the form of Kim Seokjin arrived to knock him out of his brain dead state. Whistling lowly, the elder stops in front of the rigid mass of meat, an eyebrow quirked in exasperation. “Dude, nice rigor mortis cosplay. Like, yes girl, give us nothing!” he exclaims, slapping Yoongi back to consciousness.

Yoongi blinks rapidly, dazed like he’s woken up from a dream. “What? What’s happening?” he replies dumbly.

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Yoongi. Did you finish delivering Y/N’s hug or what? I finished all my deliveries in the same time you had with Y/N, so I better hope to God you aren’t planning on applying to be an employee of mine, because you certainly have a long way to go before––”

“I hugged her,” Yoongi interrupts, eyes going glassy once more. His mouth is agape, and Seokjin can see a pool of saliva forming, ready to runneth over. He could see the rusted gears turning inside his dongsaeng’s head. “Oh my god, hyung. I fucking hugged her.”

“Yeah, and I hugged Taehyung Kim and felt his gigantic dick press into my stomach. You aren’t special,” Seokjin snorts, clasping Yoongi by the bicep. He drags him away, leading them to their parked car. “C’mon, Dampé. I’m tired and I wanna eat popcorn again.”

As they walk back to the parking lot, the campus roads are a lot less populated now that most students have gone home. Yoongi only then realizes how late it truly is and he vaguely wonders how long he had been stuck standing there before Seokjin had come to drag him back home. The sun has begun its daily descent, filling the courtyard with a warm glow and causing their shadows to grow longer as they trudge quietly to their car.

The campus is quiet enough that both of them hear the quiet buzz of Seokjin’s phone, despite him putting it on silent mode before he had gone on his hugging deliveries. He stops mid-step, causing Yoongi to bump his nose into his wide back. He yelps, shoving Seokjin forward in irritation.

“Why’d you fucking stop, you asshole?” Yoongi whines, his normal annoying personality resurfacing now that he’s begun to recover from your hug. He peers over Seokjin’s behemoth shoulders, squinting at his phone screen. “What? Another hug delivery?”

“Yeah. I’ll do it tomorrow since I think she’s gone home for the day,” Seokjin says, his tone sounding slightly too delighted for comfort. “In fact, I know she’s gone home already.”

Yoongi stills, changing his focus onto the elder’s expression. He looks… too eager to receive a simple hug-o-gram request. A shiver shoots through Yoongi’s spine when he realizes how nefariously bastardous Seokjin’s smile has grown, the tips of his smirk curling upwards like a villain from a classic Disney animation.

“What?” Yoongi glares acidly at Seokjin, but the elder is unaffected. In fact, he seems to grow more pleased the more aggravated Yoongi becomes. “Spit it out! What’s got your prostate tickled?”

“Oh, nothing,” Seokjin singsongs, shoving his phone down the front of his pants, exactly where he knows Yoongi would never touch. “Just got an interesting new regular customer, is all.”

“A new regular?” Yoongi’s pitch heightens, the hairs on the back of his neck bristling in alarm (like a cat.) “Is it… Another request for… You know who?”

“I wasn’t aware Voldemort went to our university,” Seokjin teases, thoroughly enjoying Yoongi’s distress. “Though, if you’re talking about Y/N, then the answer is not not not no.”

“Two double negatives.” Anyone could hear the audible soft rattling of his two brain cells exerting themselves as Yoongi deciphers his answer. “That means…”

Yoongi stares pointedly at Seokjin’s crotch, where the outline of his phone is glaringly obvious. “Show me,” Yoongi growls, not making a move to actually touch Seokjin’s nether regions.

Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. “No one’s stopping you from taking my phone though?”

“Hyung!”

“Buy me bubble tea first, then we’ll talk.”

“Fine,” Yoongi acquiesces, folding his arms in annoyance. “Just tell me. Is it really the same guy who requested the hug for Y/N today as well?”

Seokjin fiddles around for his phone, digging deeper when it nearly drops down the leg of his pants. When he pulls it out and swipes to his e-mails, he confirms Yoongi’s fear. “Yep. And it seems like he saw you deliver the hug today. Says that he’d prefer that I deliver the hug next time,” Seokjin smirks, enjoying the deep-set frown on Yoongi’s face.

When Seokjin takes a closer look at the order, however, he notices something a little off. “Hold on a sec,” he scrolls to the receipt, scowling when he sees the incorrect amount. “Well, you might be in luck, Yoongi-chi. Looks like loverboy sent the wrong payment. He’s a few dollars short.”

“What?” Yoongi says, for what feels like the tenth time in this entire fic. He grabs Seokjin’s phone, no longer repulsed by where it had been only a few minutes prior. Like Seokjin said, the customer had given the wrong amount, much to both their confusion.

“That’s weird, considering he just ordered a hug today,” Seokjin murmurs, shaking his head. “Oh well. Happens to the best of us. Guess I’ll just have to refund the poor sap.”

“Wait,” Yoongi presses the phone to his chest, preventing Seokjin from taking it. His hyung raises a brow.

“What is it?”

“What if I just… pay you the remaining amount? Then I can also deliver the hug to her and, uhh...” Yoongi mumbles the remaining part, but Seokjin has trained his ears to catch every whisper and mutter for moments just like this. He wouldn’t be where he is today if he didn’t perfect his eavesdropping skills to a spy’s degree. That’s right––Seokjin is a sloppy and nosey bitch and he’s not afraid to admit it!

“Oh? Do my ears deceive me?” Seokjin guffaws, pinching Yoongi’s cheeks for good measure. He hisses in response, but Seokjin isn’t afraid of some little kitten. Seokjin is a bigger bitch with a meaner bite. “Is my little Yoongi Woongi seriously offering to deliver another hug to Miss Y/N? How magnanimous of you.”

Yoongi stares at him, stunned for a moment. A few seconds pass before he shakes his head, faux disdain coloring his expression. “That’s right,” Yoongi huffs, detaching himself from Seokjin’s meaty claws. He keeps his gaze averted, like the big stupid tsundere that he is. “I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart! I care about your profits, and I want to make your workload a little lighter! Isn’t that what you want?”

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Seokjin snickers, poking Yoongi in the tit. He swivels away, skipping merrily away to their parked car. “I’m expecting that cash in my Paypal by the time I get to the car, or else the deal is off. Make it snappy, loverboy!”

Yoongi had never transferred cash to someone so quickly in his life.

(Yes, not even when the food court on campus was doing a BOGO promo for churros. That’s the extent of how whipped his ass is, period.)

x x x x x

“Like, even worse than when we DIY’d your car into a convertible by sawing the top off?” Seokjin asks, genuinely curious.

“Worse,” Yoongi admits, trying his best to stay out of your line of sight. His cheeks redden, matching the gaudy pink kitten ears he was forced into wearing.

“Listen, I’m seriously not forcing you to do this,” Seokjin starts, even though he’s giving his utmost effort to further embarrass Yoongi by handing out flyers about Hug-o-gram’s newest employee. “Please, take one!” he cajoles, offering a flyer to a gaggle of giggling freshmen. “Make sure to reserve a hug within the week! Yoongi-chi over here is on his way to becoming employee of the month if he gets ten requests by Friday!” They all point and whisper at Yoongi, and he swears he hears one of them wolf whistle in admiration.

“That’s what makes this entire thing terrible. I’m doing this on my own volition, and I absolutely abhor myself for it,” Yoongi moans, grabbing Seokjin’s stack of flyers and smacking himself in the head with them. It probably would’ve hurt more when Seokjin still had a full-stack, but people had swarmed them the moment they entered the heart of the campus, everyone curious to see Yoongi in his interesting attire.

Seokjin might have been famous for creating the Hug-o-gram Service, but Yoongi was famous for hating the business idea, so it’s easy to understand why everyone was interested. (For good reason, he thinks darkly to himself.)

“Damn, Yoongi-chi. Looks like you’re trending on the campus Reddit page,” Seokjin laughs, wheezing even harder when Yoongi points him with a murderous glare. “What? Like you said, this was all your idea.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t ask to wear… whatever this is!” Yoongi whines, tugging on the string around his neck. The cardboard sign had been ready and prepared the moment they arrived home the other day, arousing Yoongi’s suspicions on Seokjin’s actual involvement in his current predicament. Those suspicions are put in the backburner for now, however, as Yoongi actually feels like he might die of embarrassment instead of the packets of MSG coursing through his veins from the ten ramen packs he ate this morning. Maybe both will kill him, if he’s lucky.

“Well, I would love to lend you my uniform, but I haven’t gotten a t-shirt printed with your face on it yet, so you’ll have to deal with the kitten ears and cardboard sign for now,” Seokjin says, patting him on the back. “Or, would you rather I have you wear a shirt with my face on it? I’m open to suggestions.”

“I’d rather swallow a Tide pod, thanks,” Yoongi says through gritted teeth. “C’mon, let’s move. We’ve been standing in the middle of campus like street clowns for long enough. We need to find Y/N because her class is about to end.”

“Street clowns, huh? I guess you are only missing the make-up to complete the look, especially since you seem adamant to keep honking your way through that sickening crush of yours.” Seokjin nearly catches a punch to the head, but his superior reaction time saves him from Yoongi’s sorely lacking physicality. He snatches Yoongi by the hand, dragging them towards your lecture hall. “C’mon, clown! Let’s honk this bread!”

As the two of them get closer to where you are, Yoongi’s heartbeat begins to accelerate. He wonders idly if he should see a doctor after all this, hoping that he hadn’t actually contracted heart disease due to all this stress. Lord forbid that he meet his end before he even gets to ask you out or something!

Even though he’s already hugged you once (and it was, by far, the most euphoric experience of his sad, miserable life), he still finds himself getting clammy hands at the thought of seeing you again. Nevermind the fact that he looked like a walking circus with his get-up… No, Yoongi refuses to think about it anymore, lest his last remaining brain wrinkle irreversibly smoothens.

The campus clock rings loudly, signaling the end of another block of classes. Students rush out of the buildings, with you being one of the first ones out for a change. When Yoongi spots your head of hair among the crowd, he doesn’t immediately notice what you’re wearing at first. In fact, it’s Seokjin who stops in his tracks for a moment, surprised by how you look.

“Woah, Y/N! Looking good,” Seokjin greets, rushing past Yoongi to envelop you in a hug. (A platonic hug, Yoongi reminds himself. Because unlike Yoongi, Seokjin is a normal human being who can give hugs to anyone he wants because he’s… fucking Seokjin! Lucky bastard that he is.)

“Woah!” You laugh, surprised by the sudden hug. You pat him on the back giddily, allowing him to swing you around a little. “What’s this all about? Am I getting a hug-o-gram again?”

“Yes, you are. But not from me,” Seokjin detaches himself from you, scooting away to point at Yoongi. When Seokjin moves away, Yoongi finally understands why his hyung had said you looked good. No, that was an understatement––you looked [redacted].

(For the sake of the author’s fragile ash-coated heart, she has chosen to redact Yoongi’s exact words to protect herself from slamming her head against a keyboard from how cheesy this fic is becoming. Let’s just say the word starts with a B and ends with an L. Make of that as you will.)

You must have come out of an interview or presentation of sorts because you were dressed more nicely than you usually do, which is a pretty big deal considering how put together you always looked. Your hair is styled nicely, obviously given much more care and effort than your regular appearance. You’re wearing a cute little black dress, long enough to be professional but short enough to give Yoongi breathing problems.

If Yoongi’s brain had a playlist, it would be nothing but the sound of him going HNNNNNNNNNG on repeat.

“Oh geez.” Yoongi curses lowly, smiling through the pain. This is fine, he thinks, even though it is clearly not fine. Yoongi has always been a terrible liar.

“Yoongi?” You sound incredulous, though that’s honestly a win in Yoongi’s book considering everything. You didn’t look disgusted, so that’s great. “You look…” You stop yourself, covering your mouth to hide your grin but your amusement is palpable. At least he made you laugh, he supposes.

“Like a fucking idiot? You said it,” Yoongi snorts, arms crossed defiantly. He’s trying to look intimidating, but with his cheeks puffed up and these abominable kitten ears on his head, he looks more like a grumpy cat throwing a tantrum. He juts a thumb at Seokjin, “Thank this himbo for the outfit. I definitely would have chosen something more… inconspicuous.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” You quip, still trying to mask your giggles. On the other hand, Seokjin was wheezing like a hyena, his phone pulled out and presumably filming Yoongi to add to his cringe compilation.

“Exactly what I said!” Seokjin says through his laughter, tears of mirth streaming down his face. He walks back to Yoongi, pushing him forward until he’s face to face with you. “Go on, then! We haven’t got all day!”

“I’m assuming you’re officially part of Seokjin’s hug-o-gram business now?” you ask, opening your arms wide to accept his hug. Like the beta male that he is, Yoongi has to be the one to follow in your footsteps, meekly coming closer to wrap you in an embrace.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Yoongi mutters, tucking his chin onto your shoulder. He feels you vibrate with laughter, bringing a small smile on his own face. He likes making you laugh, always has.

With the cardboard sign serving as a barrier between the two of you, he isn’t as fearful of you feeling the erratic beat of his heart, though it wouldn’t be hard to guess if you looked at him. He closes his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy your hug rather than just panic through the entire ordeal like yesterday.

Soon enough, you’re detaching yourself from him, still standing close. Your arm is just a hair’s breadth away, and if not for Seokjin enthusiastically videotaping this entire experience, Yoongi might have closed in for another hug if he could manage.

“It’s always nice to get a hug from someone you like, huh?” You say, cheeks tinted a rosy color. The true meaning of your words flies over Yoongi’s head, as his feeble mind chooses to focus on your comment a little differently.

“I––Of course I like you! We’re friends, aren’t we?” Yoongi laughs nervously, unaware that he’s slowly digging himself into a ditch. To the side, Seokjin audibly slaps a hand to his face, body shivering with secondhand embarrassment from being blasted by the full force of how idiotic his friend actually is.

Yoongi sees you deflate a little, further confusing him. “Yeah, you’re right I guess…” You sigh, taking a step backward dejectedly. Yoongi flounders a little, unsure how he managed to fuck up in just a few seconds when you had just hugged him like your life depended on it.

Choosing now to interfere before the going gets rough, Seokjin steps in between and slings an arm around both of you. Yoongi groans under the weight of his arm, glaring when he notices that Seokjin had done it on purpose, but only to him. You don’t look too bothered by his rude gesture, albeit you were more befuddled than before.

“Hey, Y/N! I don’t know if you’ve ever ordered a hug-o-gram before, but I’m doing a special this week! Now that Yoongi-chi has so kindly joined the team,” Seokjin gives him a pointed look, to which the black-haired music major sticks his tongue out petulantly, “we’re doing a little promotion for first-time customers! Would you be interested in ordering one?”

Your eyes widen, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “M-me? Ordering a hug-o-gram? Well, I…” you hesitate, sending a small glance at Yoongi before looking away in embarrassment. “I would like to, but I don’t know if it’ll be well received, you see…”

Seokjin grumbles, silently cursing the stupid shithead who caused his own demise in the first place. The worst part is that he had no idea that he totally just friendzoned you! YOU! Someone who was literally leagues ahead of him. He sincerely has no idea what you see in this bumbling idiot, but everyone with a brain knows that you have been crushing on him for as long as he’s been crushing on you, so perhaps you’re a little bit of an idiot yourself for liking him back.

Being friends with the two of you makes him feel like he’s constantly wearing a sloppy wet diaper, and he hates it. He wants to wipe his ass as soon as possible!

Seokjin shoves Yoongi away roughly, ignoring his indignant squawks as he pulls you aside. He takes you by the hand, taking you a few steps away from Yoongi, far enough that he can whisper into your ear without the other boy hearing.

Yoongi fumes from the sidelines, trying to keep his emotions in check even though he’s bursting at the seams with jealousy. Not for the first time, Yoongi irritably realizes that he does act like a cat, especially in moments like this. He might make fun of Seokjin for being an attention whore, but Yoongi is the same, if only at a smaller scale. He just wants you to look at him, as selfish as that sounds.

Can someone give him a break? He’s been holding in his crush for four years now… Imagine having to take a massive shit after drinking two gallons of milk while being lactose intolerant, except every time you line up for the washroom, the line gets increasingly long no matter how long you wait. That is the extent of his suffering, he tells himself. So please, excuse his dramatics for this one instance.

(Seokjin’s Note: This fucking jackass is SO stupid. If he only knew how easy it is to ask you out, he would know that his emotional constipation could be solved if he just fucking ASKED where the next washroom is. He could have relieved himself ages ago, but NO! And he calls me the idiot! Me! The utter betrayal! I’m never agreeing to become the second lead to a rom-com ever again!)

When Seokjin finishes whispering in your ears, you appear amused by what he had said. Yoongi sweats when you turn to face him, grinning slyly at him. “Is that so…” you wonder aloud. Yoongi feels like the world has shifted on its axis somewhat, though he still doesn’t know exactly how. He has a hunch that he’s going to find out soon enough.

“Would I ever lie to you?” Seokjin laughs that annoying laugh of his, slapping his thigh in the process. He straightens up almost immediately, his expression turning deadpan in an instant. “Send me the details by tonight, and I’ll make sure to deliver it, okay?”

“Promise?” You ask, holding a pinky up towards him. Yoongi might have let out a high pitched sob when he sees the gesture, wanting nothing more than to cup your hands in his. God, if he already nearly died from hugging you, who is to say Yoongi won’t immediately disintegrate if you were ever to hold his hand?

“Promise,” Seokjin replies, linking his pinky with yours. He doesn’t forget to point a shit-eating grin at Yoongi, for good measure.

You pull away, looking happier than you did moments prior. You were absolutely glowing, filling Yoongi with a warmth that only you ever knew how to provide. He wants to make you smile like that all the time, wants nothing more than for you to live beside him, filling his walls with the sound of your tinkling laughter. You wave cheerily at the both of them, stepping away to head home. “I guess I’ll see you, then? I’ll make sure to e-mail you my request, Seokjin!” you say, winking teasingly. “Bye to you too, Yoongi! Thanks for the hug!”

Yoongi watches as you walk further and further away as the usual melancholy that follows whenever you leave soon takes its place in his soul. It might be his imagination, but Yoongi thinks the cat ears on his head might have started to droop to match his mood.

The only way he knows how to replace the sadness, however, is by redirecting those emotions on an unsuspecting victim. Lucky for him, a willing volunteer is already within punching distance.

“Ow! Stop punching me, you gremlin!” Seokjin whines, blocking Yoongi’s series of punches like a pro. He might as well put ‘professional punching bag’ on his resume at this point. “I’m trying to help you, you useless beta male!”

“How is this helping! You made me wear cat ears and whispered blasphemies into Y/N’s ears! Now she’s going to order a hug-o-gram for her crush and it’ll be the end of my chances with her! How could you!”

“I was not whispering blasphemies, you twittering tit! I was giving her advice,” Seokjin sniffs, annoyed. “Don’t say I never help you, by the way. I’ve been trying to help you for years now.”

Yoongi hits him with a steely glare. “Really? So replacing all my clothes in my closet with clown attire is your version of help? I had to wear those stupid clown shoes for a week before you told me where you hid my clothes, jackass!”

“I was only trying to help you physically express yourself! You’re already a clown on paper, might as well help you achieve your final form!” Seokjin huffs, infuriatingly haughty. “Listen, believe me. I only told Y/N something that everyone already knows anyway, so just shut your trap and let Daddy handle the rest. You’re not going to lose her, I promise.”

“Please never refer to yourself as Daddy ever again,” Yoongi seethes, stalking off towards their car. “Don’t ever talk to me again.”

“No talk, Yoobie angy…” Seokjin snickers to himself, following Yoongi with a spring in his step. This bastard is going to grovel at his feet by tomorrow evening, he’s sure of it. If he doesn’t, then Seokjin will bite his own dick in half––that’s how sure he is of his plan! (Not that biting his dick in half will do anything to his length; he’d still be left with eight inches, let’s be real.) All in good time.

x x x x x

Seokjin gets an e-mail the next morning, much earlier than any sane person would choose to be awake at. He groans lowly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he tries to read the contents of the letter. When he’s satisfied by what he has read, he forwards the e-mail to Yoongi before allowing sleep to take him once more.

Sleep evades him, however, when the sound of Yoongi’s big feet pounds noisily outside his bedroom. He hits his knee loudly against the coffee table, causing their beloved popcorn machine to tumble to the floor, but that is of little consequence to Yoongi right now. No, he needs to get into Seokjin’s room right now and scream––

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Yoongi hollers, slamming Seokjin’s door open. The hinges creak, desperately hanging on despite the impact. Yoongi proceeds to slam a fist upon Seokjin’s ass, who barely flinches due to the fatness of his ass cushioning most of the damage. He blinks blearily at Yoongi, but the smirk on his face is clear as day.

“Came to claim your hug so early in the morning? Well, I usually don’t entertain clients until after I’ve taken a shower, but for you… I’ll make an exception,” he yawns, peeling back his blanket and patting the empty spot on his bed. “Come on in, Yoobie Boobie… Let’s hug like it’s the last day on earth.”

Seokjin fails to realize that once he removed his blanket, he had inadvertently left himself vulnerable. Yoongi slams the heel of his foot against Seokjin’s groin, causing him to shriek bloody murder at 7 AM. He wonders, amidst his pain, whether this might be the last straw and that their landlord will finally kick them out after years of their stupid shenanigans.

“WHAT DID THAT E-MAIL MEAN? IF IT’S WHAT I THINK IT IS…” Yoongi threatens, but it’s as empty as Seokjin’s butthole. They both know the implications of that e-mail, even a toddler can put two and two together and make sense out of it. Anonymous e-mail or not, Seokjin wouldn’t just forward any hug-o-gram request to Yoongi, unless…

What did the e-mail say? It goes something like:

Dear Mr. Kim,

Thank you for offering your special promotion for new time customers of your Hug-o-gram Service! I’ve always been a quiet fan of your business idea, but I’ve always been a little shy to submit a request of my own. Thank you so much for giving me the little push that I needed to send my first (and hopefully last) hug.

I’d like to send a hug to Mr. Min Yoongi from the Music Department. I understand that he has recently been appointed an employee at your business, but seeing as how it’d be difficult for him to hug himself (while not entirely impossible), I’d like to request that you be the one to send the hug to him.

I don’t really have a message for him, per se… I’m still a little shy, even though you already told me that there is no reason to be. I want to believe what you said was true, so I’m pushing my fear aside and putting my fate into your hands. So, to Mr. Min Yoongi… “When I told you it was nice to hug someone you like, I don’t think you understood what I meant. A hug, after all, is a two-way street. They’re often served the best when it is reciprocated, if you catch my drift. :)”

Peace! :3

Regards,

[Redacted] [Redacted]

“Have your brain synapses finished connecting? Because if even this flies over your head, I’m sorry to say buddy but… You might have smooth brain syndrome,” Seokjin pipes up. He observes Yoongi’s brow crumpling, the first signal of his impending mental breakdown. If Seokjin remembers correctly, the next signal should be when––

Yoongi drops down to his knees, his phone clattering to the floor as he stares absently at the ceiling. Seokjin cringes, worried for the state of his friend’s frail kneecaps. The poor sap has bad heart health already; surely, it isn’t too early to get him a life alert button?

Seokjin scooches over his bed, dangling half his body over the edge to appraise his friend. “So. What do you plan to do now?”

For a moment, Yoongi remains silent. Eventually, he shuffles closer to him, perching his hands around Seokjin. The business student raises a brow, confused, until Yoongi pushes Seokjin back onto the middle of the bed so that he can cram himself beside Seokjin on his small double bed. He huffs amusedly, allowing the smaller boy to snuggle into his chest, though he still refuses to wrap his arms around him. Close enough, Seokjin snorts.

“I need your help, hyung.” Yoongi’s voice is small, shy. It’s so uncharacteristic of him that Seokjin immediately softens. They might act like toddlers together the majority of the time, but Seokjin truly does care about Yoongi more than anything. During early mornings like this, when the sun’s soft rays are filtering through his sheer curtains and filling the room with a gentle warmth, it’s nice to cuddle up with one another and enjoy the silence. In fact, Seokjin would never admit it to Yoongi, but he got the idea for his Hug-o-gram service from Yoongi himself, back when the younger boy would be more prone to sneaking into his bed during his bouts of loneliness and homesickness.

Above all else, Yoongi is just a boy with a lot of love to give, so who is Seokjin to say no to his pleas for help?

“You know I always got your back, Yoongi-chi. Whenever you’re ready, we can do whatever you want. Ask and you’ll receive,” he replies, caressing his soft black tresses. Yoongi hums, smiling softly into his chest.

“Thanks, dude. For being… you know.”

Seokjin’s heart pangs a little, but he ignores it. Instead, he continues combing through his hair, humming gently. “I know.”

x x x x x

It’s been a few days since you sent the e-mail to Seokjin and you haven’t heard back from him. You aren’t sure if he sends confirmation e-mails to his clients as you’d never asked for a hug-o-gram before, nor did you know anyone who has. You are forced to continue on with your days like normal, trying to ignore the unsettling anxiety from creeping up your throat and spewing all over the sidewalk.

If Seokjin hadn’t been lying to you, then there shouldn’t be anything to worry about. You’ve been harboring this crush on Yoongi for years now, and you never thought in your life that it would ever be reciprocated. He always seemed a little bit detached, a little too cool for you. Never mind the fact that he always seemed so jittery around you, like it was hard to talk to you or something!

Your answer comes on the last day of the week, after an especially rough day at class. Your back is bent, having finished a grueling four hour lab period where you did nothing but stand and stare at your reaction vessel spinning without any signal of change. You are just a little bit hangry from all the stress piling up on your plate, especially since you hadn’t eaten a decent meal since breakfast at 8 AM.

In short, life isn’t going as smoothly as you’d hoped for your senior year, but you can’t let the blues get to you too soon. After all, there are leftover chicken wings in your fridge with your name on it, and nothing beats your meat more than greasy poultry to end a terrible week.

You’re only inches away from sliding your keycard to open your shared dorm room when the door opens without prompting. You flinch backward, yelping loudly when your roommate Park Jimin grins slyly from the doorway––never a good sign, if you knew anything.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Jimin says, leaning casually against the door like he hadn’t just scared the living shit out of you. He takes one glance at your disheveled hair and lightly sweaty clothes before grimacing in disgust. “Girl, I can’t let you meet the love your life while you’re looking like that. Come on, we have a few minutes before he arrives. Let’s get you freshened up.”

“I’m sorry?” You squeak, allowing your roommate to manhandle you into your own home. He pushes you into your room, depositing you roughly onto your unmade bed. You try to make eye contact with him, but he’s too busy raiding your closet to pay you much attention. “Excuse me? What did you say just now?”

“No time, princess! Your Prince Charming is on the way, and I’ve been ordered by Seokjin to prepare you for this life-changing moment, so get your ass into gear and change into this!” He shoves a clean pair of jeans and a nicer-looking blouse at you before proceeding to grab your hairbrush and comb your tresses with the gentleness of a mother tigress. You shriek when the brush gets tangled in an especially stubborn knot, but Jimin is relentless. He nearly tears your hair by the roots, ignoring your pained whines.

“Will you fucking stop! I have literally no idea why you’re acting like a psycho all of a sudden–” You shout when Jimin begins to undress you, having to kick him in the chest to get him away from completely eradicating your remaining traces of dignity. “Okay, fine! I’ll dress myself! Just get out of my room and fucking stay away!”

Jimin looks at you dubiously for a split second, before eventually acquiescing. “You have two minutes to get changed. You wouldn’t want to keep him waiting, do you?” he says, smirking knowingly. He better dread the day that you finally wipe that annoying twinkle in his eye; it’s been a long time coming.

Left alone to your own devices, you do as Jimin says even though you’re still wildly confused by everything. To think you had been so excited to feast on your chicken wings, and instead, you went through a decade’s worth of torture within the last few minutes. Patting your hands on the butt of your jeans, you meekly take a step out of your bedroom, where Jimin is already tapping his foot impatiently by the door.

He motions for you to hurry up. “Let’s go! Seokjin says they’re rounding up the corner. Hold on,” he steps closer to you, raising your arm up to take a shameless sniff of your pits. “Sorry, had to make a pit stop. You can never be too sure,” he shrugs, disregarding your squawks of indignation.

“I smell fine! Now what are we–” Your sentence is cut short as Jimin all but carries you to the elevator, your shrieks of terror causing one or two of your neighbors to peek their heads out of their doors. When they see it’s just the two of you, they simply shrug their shoulders, returning to their lives like it was normal to see Jimin carry you in a fireman’s hold.

He doesn’t put you down until you reach the lobby of your dorm complex, barely out of breath despite having held you the entire way down. Stupid buff baby, you groan internally to yourself, straightening down your clothes in a desperate attempt to look decent. “Okay, we’re here. Who am I supposed to be meeting?”

In lieu of an answer, Jimin points wordlessly outside your building. A black car is parked on the other side of the road, and you can barely see a familiar head of hair poking out from the driver’s seat. “Seokjin? What the…” you trail off, before your eyes finally land on their target.

Yoongi stands outside the glass doorway, not dressed in his usual all-black attire. He’s wearing an outrageously cute pink shirt today, matching the color of his natural flush. He always looks effortlessly good, with his hair a little windswept in that boyishly cute way. Your mouth goes a little dry when you realize he’s wearing his famous leather jacket, the one that always got the girls and boys swooning when he walked past in them. You hated how whipped for him you were, not wanting to be like the weird kids in his secret fan club, but who can blame you? He’s just so…

You rip open the door, nearly tripping and falling over the short steps leading to the entrance. You grind to a halt in front of him and you’re acutely aware of how rabid you must look. Your chest is pounding, like your heart is begging you to step closer, just like when you had hugged him all those days ago. God, you were going to kill Park Jimin for this.

“Yoongi? What are you…” You take one look at him before your gaze drops to his hands folded carefully behind his back. It doesn’t hide the fact that there is an obvious bouquet of flowers behind him, though. Your face lights on fire when you notice they were your favorite flowers too.

“I’m here to deliver a hug?” Yoongi says it like he’s unsure of himself, but there’s a little coyness laced in his tone. His cheeks are painted a soft pink, and not for the first time, they remind you of freshly baked bread pulled out from the oven. Soft enough to kiss, you wonder idly to yourself.

“I mean… I did order a hug a few days ago, but I do recall not ordering one for myself?” you laugh a little hysterically, your breath cutting short when Yoongi grins softly in response. “I… Who is this hug from?”

Yoongi takes a glance back towards Seokjin. “Hey, boss. Am I allowed to reveal who the secret admirers are, or will that get me fired?”

Seokjin, despite being a few meters away, laughs loud enough for the whole street to hear. “Well, Yoongi-chi. Something tells me your resignation letter was coming in the mail eventually. Who cares about the rules at this point?”

“He’s right,” you quip, pulling Yoongi’s attention back. You’re smiling wide now, your hopes and dreams skyrocketing in your chest and blooming a garden in your heart. “Who cares, right?”

“Right,” Yoongi agrees, taking the last two steps he needs to get closer to you. He drops the bouquet somewhere behind you before finally, finally, embracing you once more. He kisses you gently on the forehead, the contact short and sweet.

You feel like you’re dying, but it’s all good because Yoongi looks just as embarrassed as you. But none of it matters, not when both your happiness is palpable in the air.

“Y/N…”

“Yes?”

“This hug-o-gram is from me to you. Will you go out with me?”

You’ve always been a firm believer that actions speak louder than words. So when you lean in to plant your first kiss of many many more, he knows your answer well enough.

3K notes · View notes

xiaomoxu · 4 years

Text

Victor’s Mind Quest: Preference

SPOILER ALERT!!

A date from CN server which hasn’t been released on EN server yet. Might contains some spoiler.

This date is so LONG, so be prepared! XD

🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷

🍷

The car stopped in front of the familiar white villa, Li Zeyan and I picked up gifts from the trunk and rang the doorbell.

The door was quickly opened, and Li Zeyan's aunt poked her head first.

Aunt: Oops, you guys are finally here!

Li Zeyan: Aunt.

MC: Hello, aunt! I'm bothering again.

Aunt: Don't mind it, come in quickly.

Walking into the living room, a faint fragrance of tea wafted, and news was broadcasted quietly on the TV, everything was exactly the same as in memory.

Aunt: Brother, Zeyan and MC are here!

MC: Happy New Year, Uncle!

Father Li put down the teapot, smiled and nodded at us.

On the eve of the Spring Festival, aunt called and invited Li Zeyan and me to go to the neighboring province for the New Year.

The last time I accidentally celebrated the Chinese New Year at Father Li's house is still vivid. Thinking of this warm memory, this time I carefully selected gifts before setting off.

We exchanged greetings for a while, and while the aunt was going to fill the teapot with water, Father Li got up and called Li Zeyan.

Father Li: Zeyan, help me move something to the balcony.

Li Zeyan: Alright.

Li Zeyan responded and looked at me again. Before he could say anything, aunt took my hand.

Aunt: Go ahead, I will chat with her.

Aunt leaned over to see them walking away, and smiled.

Aunt: Let me take a closer look, I feel that the complexion is much better than last time, have you adjusted it yourself?

MC: Thank you auntie, It’s probably because I ate better recently.

Seeing aunt looking at me with some doubts, I smile embarrassedly.

MC: Li Zeyan cooking is delicious, I eat very well every time...

As soon as I finished speaking, aunt patted the back of my hand and laughed.

Aunt: Don't be polite with him, just let him do more if you like it!

Aunt: So it seems that Zeyan doesn't bully you anymore?

MC: Thanks to him, he used to bully me and now I am not afraid of anything.

Aunt: This child has been like that since he was a child, but if he gets used to it, he is quite cute.

MC: Well, although occasionally the tone is not very good, he never really disliked me.

MC: In fact, most of the time, he took the trouble to help me. The big things and small things in life, he always worry about me.

MC: I always feel at ease with him by my side.

The air was quiet for a few seconds. I subconsciously raised my head to look at aunt and found that she was looking at me with surprise.

I reacted with hindsight, and the temperature on my face immediately rose.

MC: Sorry auntie, did I talking to much?

She was about to say something when there were footsteps behind her. I looked back and met Li Zeyan's gaze.

Li Zeyan: It seems that I interrupted you.

Aunt: No, we're just talking.

Aunt: Brother, don't bothering Zeyan, and let them young people talk.

Aunt winked at me, got up and pushed Father Li away. Li Zeyan walks towards the kitchen naturally, and I stand up

Li Zeyan: Then I will go prepare dinner first.

MC: I'll help!

When we got to the kitchen, Li Zeyan handed me a vegetable.

Li Zeyan: Have a good chat with aunt just now?

MC: Well, I talked about some topics about you.

Li Zeyan: Someone is always flaring his teeth and claws, but now she is talking good things.

My hand washing vegetables shook, and I looked up at him with some guilty feeling.

MC: Did you hear it all?

Li Zeyan: Just a little.

MC: How does it feel to hear such sincere praise?

Li Zeyan: It is indeed an evaluation that only you can give.

Li Zeyan: But most of them are facts, not compliments.

I looked at the faint smile in his eyes, and curled his lips unconvinced.

MC: It seems that I have said too much good things, and you are used to it.

MC: Before, you would be surprised and ask me if I was sincere.

Li Zeyan: Someone’s thoughts are written on her face, of course I can tell.

He glanced at me pointedly, not to mention I know how hot my face is now. But Li Zeyan didn't seem to respond to my words, and he still looked calm.

Perhaps it is because he can always understand my thoughts, even if I occasionally prepare surprises, almost all of them are in his expectation.

Thinking about it this way, it seems that I haven't seen Li Zeyan who would be shy because of me for a long time.

I snorted and shook off the drops of water on the leaves.

Is too unfair if I am the only one who blushes because of him.

A new year and a new start, I must find a way to see the other side of Li Zeyan!

🍷 - At the Balcony before

Father Li: Just put it here.

Father Li: Thank you, Ze Yan.

Li Zeyan: It's okay, your knees aren't in a good condition for moving such a heavy thing.

Li Zeyan: Just call me from now on.

Father Li: This pendant on your key.... is very unique.

Li Zeyan: ....

Father Li: Is it from MC?

Li Zeyan: Yes.

Li Zeyan: She always likes these strange little things.

Father Li: Wouldn't it be nice for her to give you something she like?

Father Li: Actually, I'm calling you over is just to spend the time together.

Father Li: Just now I saw that she had carefully prepared so many souvenirs, must be hard.

Li Zeyan: Since aunt called, she has started choosing gifts, and she feels more caring than her work.

Father Li: Why, you're jealous?

Li Zeyan: Dad.

Father Li: Okay, I won't say anything.

Father Li: Anyway, you must know these things better than us.

Father Li: By the way, didn’t you say that there was a problem with the plumbing at the suburbs house? My contact has repaired it.

Father Li: The house has been vacant for a long time. I will have someone clean it up by the way. You can check it again when you go back.

Li Zeyan, Alright, would like to stay there for a few days?

Father Li: It's more convenient for me to stay here when I can't go away year after year.

Father Li: You take MC, there is good sunshine, quiet, and more comfortable than in the city.

Li Zeyan: Alright.

Father Li: Don't always talk about works.

Li Zeyan: .... I got it.

🍷

After a while, aunt walked in and put the wine and decanter on the bar.

Seeing Li Zeyan was busy cutting vegetables, I took the initiative to take the wine bottle and preparing it.

Aunt watched my movements and leaned into my ear and whispered.

Aunt: You little girl are very skilled!

MC: Learned from Li Zeyan.

Aunt: Do you like to drink?

I subconsciously looked back at Li Zeyan, he didn't seem to pay attention to our conversation.

MC: Actually my drinking capability is not very good. Aunt: It's okay. Let's drink later. Don't be too restrictive during the holidays. MC: But.... Aunt: Don't be afraid of him, this time aunt will covers you.

Aunt patted me, and quickly left the kitchen, leaving only the tiny grunt of soup bubbling in my ears.

I looked at Li Zeyan across the bar and deliberately brought up the topic just now.

MC: Aunt said that we can drink together today.

Li Zeyan: Okay.

MC: I promise to drink only a little bit, it will not be ashamed.

Li Zeyan: Didn't my aunt say to cover you? No need to report to me.

MC: ....

Nothing can escape his ears!

I secretly slandered, and I saw Li Zeyan picking up a few rock candy from a glass jar and adding it to the pot.

There were just a few wine glasses on hand, and I rolled my eyes, ready to try to take this opportunity to win a round.

I picked up a wine glass, poured out a little bit of wine in the decanter, and handed it to Li Zeyan.

MC: Would you like to taste it?

Li Zeyan: You only stay sober for less than five minutes.

MC: Is Mr. Li still can't stand sour alcohol?

Li Zeyan looked at my provocative expression, took the wine glass and shook it.

Li Zeyan: Why? are you afraid that you will be laughed at when you get drunk, and want to get me drunk first?

MC: It's just a little, you will not get drunk.

Li Zeyan looked at me for a while, and drank the wine in the glass.

Seeing him frowning slightly, I took one out of the rock candy can he had just opened, bit it between teeth, stepped on the foot, and put it to his lips.

Li Zeyan: !

Li Zeyan was stunned for a moment. I raised my hand and pushed away his hand holding the cup, and then moved closer to him.

The padded ankles began to sore, but the person in front did not bend over to cooperate with me.

I struggled to maintain the balance under my feet and winked at him threateningly.

Li Zeyan raised his eyebrows and finally bowed his head and approached me.

I raised my head to meet him, but accidentally hit the corner of his lips that wanted to bite the rock candy in desperation, but only a little sugar residue was left between the teeth.

The rock candy fell from among us and fell to the ground with a "pop".

MC: ....

Li Zeyan: .....

We looked at each other for a few seconds, I deliberately ignored the almost burning cheeks, and took a step back with pretending to be calm.

Picking up the rock candy on the ground and throwing it into the trash can, I turned back to the sink, turned my back to Li Zeyan, and ripped up the cabbage wholeheartedly.

Li Zeyan: MC.

Without waiting for Li Zeyan to say anything, I immediately raised my hand behind me to stop him.

MC: You let me calm down, I now-

Before I finished my words, my wrist was suddenly pulled, and a tremendous force pulled me back.

I opened my eyes wide and looked at his face so close to mine.

The warm lips contained my exclaim, and his breath instantly covered me.

My brain went blank, subconsciously trying to push him away

Li Zeyan held me tightly, with one hand behind my waist, making me unable to move for a while.

Li Zeyan: The wine is not good, the sugar is not eaten, you want to run like this?

MC: Wait, uncle and aunt are still in the living room!

Li Zeyan: I thought you remembered this when you bite that rock candy just now.

He almost said this sentence against my lower lip, and then the warmth continued to cover it.

The faint fragrance of the red wine entered my breath, and all the sound in my ears disappeared, leaving only the rumbling heartbeat.

The world seemed to no longer flow, as if no one would know what was happening in this quiet corner.

The little sweetness of rock candy left on the lips and on the tip of the tongue was repeatedly plundered, reminding me of the meaning of this sudden kiss.

His movements are slow and gentle, but I taste a hint of greed.

Until the tip of the tongue starts to tingle slightly, the cool air re-entered between us.

Li Zeyan rubbed my cheek with his palm and suddenly smiled slightly.

Li Zeyan: It seems that your drinking capacity is same as your IQ.

Li Zeyan: Why did you blush after a bite?

The sly tone in my ear made my sanity quickly returned, and I took a step back hastily.

MC: This is not the same thing at all!

MC: ...You, you are a foul!

Li Zeyan: The wicked complain first.

Li Zeyan: Not remember what you have done all of sudden?

MC: Iㅡ

Before I had time to speak out, the sound of my surroundings suddenly reappeared in my ears.

But Li Zeyan still held me in his spare time, waiting for me to finish speaking.

Faced with his visibly shifting gaze, I panted for a long time, and finally didn't say a word.

The awkward confrontation was broken by the sound of footsteps outside the door, and the aunt's voice rang.

Aunt: MC, come and rest for a while!

MC: O... Okay!

I was shocked, and immediately got out of Li Zeyan's arm.

Obviously it was a temporary intention, but I was the only one who was embarrassed, and he was still at ease.

I was a little upset in my heart and beat myself up again for this "overweight" behavior.

Feed rock candy, the plan failed.

🍷

When aunt Wang walked into the kitchen, Li Zeyan was seriously handling the shrimp thread.

Hearing the footsteps behind him, he looked back and said hello to Aunt Wang.

Aunt Wang: I heard MC is coming, so I came to help.

Li Zeyan: Thank you. For your hard work this year, and stay here to help during the New Year.

Aunt Wang: Why are you polite? Anyway, I am alone, and it's very lively to stay with your family.

Aunt Wang: And you're good at it, I just give a little help.

Li Zeyan: You flatter me.

Li Zeyan: What I prepare are the dishes that this family loves, and they liked it.

Li Zeyan: Besides, I don't have many chances to come back. I should cook a meal.

Aunt Wang motioned to him in the direction of the living room and whispered

Aunt Wang: I heard that you will come together this time. Your father and your aunt are happier than ever.

Aunt Wang: Your dad also bought a new pot of flowers and put them in the living room.

Li Zeyan: Maybe he wants to grow flowers.

Aunt Wang: But I heard people say that growing flowers at home is helpful for fondness.

Li Zeyan smiled and did not answer Aunt Wang's words.

Aunt Wang: You don't believe it? Look, isn't that good luck is coming?

Aunt Wang said with a smile and pointed at the corner of Li Zeyan's mouth.

Li Zeyan was stunned for a moment and wipe it with back of his hand, and a faint red trace was on the back of his hand.

ㅡIt's a lipstick that has not been wiped off.

Recalling what happened in the kitchen just now, Li Zeyan coughed slightly unnaturally.

Li Zeyan: Aunt Wang, don't tell my dad.

Aunt Wang: Oh it's normal for young people.

Aunt Wang smiled and suddenly lowered her voice.

Aunt Wang: By the way, Zeyan, have you ever cooked for little miss?

Li Zeyan: Have.

Li Zeyan: She is usually busy with work and her own cooking skills are not good, so she takes every chance to come to me.

Aunt Wang: She must like it very much, right?

Li Zeyan smiled lightly.

Li Zeyan: She is not picky eaters, she says everything is delicious.

Li Zeyan: When she's hungry, she may still complain about this and that, and forget everything when she's full.

Li Zeyan: It’s so easy to be satisfied...

The soup on the stove boiled, and the sound of bubbles bursting, interrupting Li Zeyan's unfinished words, and suddenly realizing something.

He turned his head subconsciously and saw Aunt Wang looking at him with a smile.

Li Zeyan: Aunt Wang, Iㅡ

Aunt Wang: It is fine, don't be embarrassed!

Aunt Wang: You are very attentive in everything you do, and she will definitely feel it. That's why you feel satisfied.

Aunt Wang: I don't understand any principle, but I think it is very happy to make food for the people that you care about.

Aunt Wang: If she happens to like to eat too, it is double happiness, dont you agree?

Li Zeyan retracted his gaze and nodded.

Li Zeyan: Well, you're right.

He didn't say anything, and took care of the last shrimp, and then suddenly smiled to himself.

He turned his head and looked in the direction of the living room. A ceramic flowerpot was placed facing the sun, and several small flowers bloomed on the tender green stems and leaves.

Many people hope that important things can have good thoughts. But he knew that even without this thought, he would hold her hand well.

Li Zeyan: Aunt Wang, what flower did my dad buy?

Aunt Wang: It's an orchid, what's wrong?

Li Zeyan: It's nothing.

Li Zeyan: He can keep it if he likes it.

🍷

After dinner, we played mahjong as usual.

After a few rounds, the elders seemed a little sleepy and got up, left the table one after another.

Before going upstairs, Father Li turned around and exhorted a few more words.

Father Li: MC, the guest room has been cleaned up. If you are sleepy, just go there.

MC: Yes, thank you uncle!

Worried about disturbing them, Li Zeyan and I go upstairs to rest as well.

When I came back from washing, I passed by Li Zeyan's room, and a faint light leaked from the open door. He seemed not to sleep yet.

I knocked on the door lightly, opened the door and took a look.

Li Zeyan was sitting on the sofa looking at the tablet computer. He seemed to be passing the time. When he saw me, he got up and put down the tablet.

Li Zeyan: Come in.

Li Zeyan: After drinking tonight, is there anything uncomfortable?

MC: No, today's wine is delicious. Sure enough, the sober time you suggest is the most appropriate.

I closed the door and looked back at his room curiously.

The rooms are neatly organized, but there doesn't seem to be much living traces.

On the desks and bookcases are placed many objects unique to the school days, and there is a skipping rope tied up on the storage box on the side.

All this seems inconsistent with Li Zeyan in front of me, but it makes people feel vaguely traceable.

MC: Li Zeyan, did you live here before?

Li Zeyan: I have always lived in Lianyu City.

Li Zeyan: After my dad moved here, he put my things when I was studying here.

MC: In other words, is this one of your "warehouses"?

Li Zeyan: More or less.

I walked to the desk, looked at the neatly arranged books, and carefully touched the decorations on the table.

MC: It turns out that Mr.Li lived a similar life to me when he was studying.

Li Zeyan: Isn't it obvious?

MC: It’s obvious that we all take the same class, how come we grow up so much difference in the future?

I looked up with a bit of resentment, and saw a few thick dictionaries on the upper shelf of the bookcase.

The red-covered dictionary of idioms was on the outermost side. Suddenly, I came to my spirits, cleared my throat pretentiously, and looked back at Li Zeyan.

MC: Li Zeyan, let me test you.

MC: What is the fourth idiom on page 16 of the idiom dictionary?

Li Zeyan: What are you saying?

MC: Because you love to use idioms when speaking, I once thought that you had memorized the dictionary for you.

Li Zeyan: ....

Li Zeyan's heavy sigh was heard. He did not respond to me, and took me to the sofa to sit down.

MC: What's wrong?

Li Zeyan: Sure enough, you're drunk.

MC: I'm not drunk!

Li Zeyan: All drunks say so.

I looked at him unconvinced.

MC: You drank a lot with uncle during dinner. Are you drunk?

Li Zeyan: No.

MC: All drunks say so.

I used his tone to return this sentence to him intact, and Li Zeyan took a silent glance away from me.

Li Zeyan: If I get drunk, who will take care of you?

MC: Could it be... you haven't slept because you're waiting for me?

Li Zeyan: Just realized?

Li Zeyan:I know you won't go back straight to your room, it is better to leave a door open.

There was a hint of warmth in my heart, I smiled and held Li Zeyan hand.

MC: Are you going to let me stay with you?

Li Zeyan: As long as you don't get drunk, it doesn't matter if you want to stay.

MC: I'm not drunk, how can I be drunk!

MC: And this room is full of your past, I really want to get to know it.

He stared at me, and finally squatted down in compromise, holding my hand back.

Li Zeyan: Come on, what else do you want to know?

I raised my head and looked around, and pointed to a medal standing on the desk.

MC: What is this, what award have you won?

Li Zeyan: Award of Model United Nations General Assembly.

MC: Amazing!

MC: I have heard of this kind of society, it is very difficult to join, even win the award.

Li Zeyan: Thinking about it now, they are all naive proposals, but they are a bit helpful for training thinking.

I curled my lips secretly when I spoke to this kind of academic bully, and pointed at another thing.

MC: What is that dark blue notebook?

Li Zeyan: From the school. It should be the work log of the Student Union.

MC: As expected of Mr. Li, I feel that you have been a leader since childhood.

My eyes continued to wander, and suddenly I saw an unexpected object in the corner. A certain memory in my mind was touched, and I opened my eyes in surprise.

I walked to the glove box in the corner, picked up a leaky football from the inside, and proudly held it in front of Li Zeyan

MC: It seems that you really like playing football, and you still keep it.

Li Zeyan: I just liked it when I was young.

MC: But thanks to this football, I can eat your pudding.

Li Zeyan: You just remember the pudding?

MC: Of course not, I still remember many details!

MC: For example, the look of the sand castle that you kicked, the weather that day, and the water cup under the tree in several colors...

I suddenly thought of something. I squeezed the football into Li Zeyan's hands and held his face in both hands.

MC: However, what I remember most clearly was you who were a little nervous and at a loss.

MC: At that time you were not such a serious Mr. Li.

MC: The height almost as tall as your chest now? Your hair seems to be a little curlier than it is now, and your face is a little fatter.

MC: It's the lovely brother Zeyan! (Zéyán gēgē!)

As I spoke, I made a circle on his face and laughed foolishly. Li Zeyan looked at me silently, without responding in a long time.

The temperature under my palm rose a little, and I approached him with some doubts and saw his pupils shrink for a moment.

MC: Li Zeyan, what's wrong with you?

Li Zeyan seemed to have finally reacted from his shock, took a step back hastily, and threw the football back into the glove box.

Li Zeyan: ... I'm fine.

Li Zeyan: It's late, you should go to bed, and we will be back to Lianyu tomorrow.

MC: Can I sleep on your sofa?

Li Zeyan: No, go back to the room to sleep.

MC: You just said that I can stay...

Li Zeyan: I changed my mind.

I watched him avoiding my gaze, and vaguely understood something, so I turned my back to him on purpose.

MC: You are shameless.

MC: Someone doesn’t often say, “If you want to persuade others, you have to give a reasonable reason.

Li Zeyan: ....

MC: But if you feel embarrassed, I can understand.

Li Zeyan: What am I embarrassed about?

Hearing his awkward tone, I secretly curled my mouth and turned to hold him.

MC: In that case, I will treat it as if you promised to accommodate me once.

I heard slightly heavy breathing, as if he was holding back something.

I turned my head and saw the complex and turbulent emotions in his eyes.

Just for a moment, his embrace entrapped this emotion and shackled me on the bed.

Li Zeyan: You want to stay.

MC: Iㅡ

Li Zeyan: You talk a lot today.

As if chattering to me was unbearable, he lowered his head and held my lips like punishment.

The teeth ran across the corners of my lips, I hummed in pain, Li Zeyan loosened me a little, and pointed his finger on my lips.

Li Zeyan: Shh-

Li Zeyan: My dad sleeps lightly, don't wake him up.

I was stunned for a moment, and then realized that a bedroom was not far away, and my face flushed instantly, covering my mouth and complaining softly.

MC: You, why didn't you say it earlier!

Li Zeyan: Now you know.

I stared at Li Zeyan angrily, but this did not sway what he wanted to do.

He broke off my tense hands, put one hand under the back of my neck, raised my head slightly and then pressed it down again.

This time his movements were lightened a bit, and the tip of his tongue brushed my lips, igniting an uncontrollable swipe and then following his deep into more corners.

Lips were sore and numb, the warm mouth was wet with breathing, and the oxygen seemed to become thin.

The slight dizziness made me subconsciously want to seek support and grabbed his shirt indiscriminately with both hands.

The body was shackled, I passively followed him, and gradually fell into it.

The sound of the clock is still heard. He didn't pause time as calmly as during the day, and at this moment, I didn't care about the world around me.

The menacing lingering crumpled each other's clothes, the pendant between my neck also slid to one side onto the bed, making an undetectable muffled noise.

As a reminder, he finally slowly ended this silent but intense kiss, with his bridge nose pressed lightly on my cheek.

Except for the unresolved breathing, there was no sound in the silent night. We looked at each other in silence for a while, and Li Zeyan suddenly looked away and got up.

Seeing that I was still holding his shirt, he paused, took my hand and gently pulled it off the shirt.

MC: Li Zeyan...

Li Zeyan: Go to sleep now.

MC: ..... What?

Li Zeyan: You sleep here, I'll go to the guest room.

Li Zeyan didn't give me time to react. After speaking, he hurriedly left the room without looking back.

I froze for a while, slowly got up from the bed, and looked at the door in a daze.

I opened my palm and recalled the heat when my palm touched his cheek.

Was he.... shy just now?

Was it because of this kiss? But during the day, he was still quite comfortable in the kitchen.

Although I haven't figured out the reason for the time being, I am still secretly proud.

MC: It turns out that you are still shy.

🍷

The morning sun fell on my face through the car window, and I subconsciously raised my arm.

Last night I couldn't sleep but recall the shy Li Zeyan. The more I think about it, the less sleepy I feel. The sleepiness has accumulated to this day, and I have to sleep on the way back.

Is rare seeing Li Zeyan didn't despise me, and just playing soothing music all the way.

I don't know how long it was driving, the car finally stopped. The warm light on the eyelids disappeared for a moment, and the familiar breath approached me.

Li Zeyan: MC, wake up. We're here.

I lifted my heavy eyelids and looked out the window, only to find that the surrounding scenery was not familiar to me.

A small single-family building is located on a quiet roadside, and a fence at the door encloses a small garden with greenery.

If you look closely, there are almost no leaves and weeds in the garden. It seems that it has just been trimmed.

MC: Where is this? Aren't we going home?

Li Zeyan: I live in my house on the outskirts of the city, and my family will live here when they come to Lianyu City occasionally.

Li Zeyan: My dad asked someone to repair the pipeline a year ago, and by the way, he cleaned it and asked me to take you over to rest for a few days.

Li Zeyan opened the door, and I looked at the room in front of me with some surprise.

The decoration is still simple, but the colors are softer than Li Zeyan's home, and there is a sense of warmth everywhere.

The sunlight poured in through the floor-to-ceiling windows almost without obstruction, warmly wrapping every corner.

Looking out from the window, the greenery covers the field of vision, and a few undefeated roses dotted it, giving me the illusion of being on vacation.

MC: It's so beautiful. Thank you Uncle and Mr. Li for your hard work.

After I finished speaking, I couldn't help but yawn. Li Zeyan pulled my suitcase and took me to the bedroom.

Li Zeyan: You can wait until your eyelids stop fighting.

Li Zeyan: Go to bed first, call me if something happens.

MC: Alright.

I simply packed up and opened the suitcase, but did not find my pajamas.

I thought back to the situation when I packed my luggage in the morning, but at that time, I hardly had any impression.

MC: I slept in Li Zeyan's room last night...Did he accidentally put the wrong luggage?

Thinking about this, I decided to ask him directly.

MC: Li Zeyan, where are you?

Li Zeyan: Here.

His voice came from behind a door not far away. I stepped forward and pushed open the door in front of me. After seeing the scene inside, I was completely stunned.

In front of me is a walk-in cloakroom that is almost only seen in movies. The clothes are neatly stored in a cabinet surrounded on three sides.

Li Zeyan was standing in front of one of the closets, and his profile was illuminated by the light from the spotlight.

He changed into a loose dressing gown, and his belt was casually tied around his waist.

The soft cloth was attached to him, clearly delineating strong lines.

Before he had time to arrange his collar, the collar was wide open, revealing his large tight muscles, which formed a sharp contrast with the dark morning gown.

The heartbeat speeded up uncontrollably, I stopped where I was a little bewildered, but my eyes were surely stuck to him.

Li Zeyan: What's wrong?

Hearing his voice, I regained my senses a bit, swallowed my saliva and then spoke.

MC: Um. I didn't find my pajamas. Maybe I put it in the wrong suitcase.

Li Zeyan: Let me check my suitcase.

Li Zeyan turned and walked out, and I caught a glimpse of a stack of shirts neatly stacked in the closet.

A thought suddenly came to my mind, I subconsciously stopped Li Zeyan.

MC: Wait!

MC: I, I suddenly remembered that I accidentally soiled my pajamas, can I borrow one from President Li?

Li Zeyan: You won’t sleep well wearing them.

Even though he said that, he rummaged in the closet, picked out a white shirt and handed it to me.

Li Zeyan: This one is a little softer, try if it's comfortable enough.

I took the shirt and compared it quietly to myself. I just placed it on my thigh. The light fabric was slightly transparent.

MC: .... Is it a bit too short?

A touch of heat climbed to the tip of my ears, and I looked at the mirror with some hesitation in my heart.

But when I thought about Li Zeyan's shy look last night, I built my courage and planned to try again.

I hugged the shirt in my hand, turned back and walked out, thanking him.

MC: Then I'll try it. Thanks Mr. Li!

Li Zeyan pulled out a pair of summer shorts from the bottom of the closet, and was about to pass it to the girl behind him, only to find that she had hurried away.

He looked at the direction the girl was leaving, and sighed softly.

Li Zeyan: Not even let people to finish talking.

He simply cleaned up the messy clothes, remembering that the girl hadn't eaten breakfast, and then went back to the bedroom door and knocked gently, plan to ask her if she is hungry.

There was no response from the room, and he opened the door somewhat suspicious.

Li Zeyan: MC.

Li Zeyan: ....!

Although a short time has passed, the girl has fallen asleep holding her pillow, and the shirt she borrowed from him just now is loosely wrapped around her.

She did not cover the quilt and forgot to close the curtains. The sunlight spread across her back, faintly reflecting the lines hidden under the shirt.

He stood on the spot awkwardly, holding the doorknob in a dilemma.

She seemed to be not sleeping well, spit out a few small babbles, and buried her face in the pillow again.

Li Zeyan sighed, walked over lightly, closed the curtains, and covered her with the quilt.

Then he reached out and gently pushed her forehead, lowering his voice to remind her.

Li Zeyan: Don't bury your face in the pillow.

MC: Hmm.. Li Zeyan.

Li Zeyan: Yes?

MC: ...lovely...

Li Zeyan: ....

He looked at her smirk in her sleep, the same expression she had when she said the name last night.

Unspeakable emotions came to his mind again, he immediately got up and left the bedroom, leaned against the wall and took a deep breath.

Li Zeyan: Dummy.

When I opened my eyes again, the sky was already dark.

I looked at the tightly covered quilt and rubbed my head with some annoyance.

I wanted to change into a shirt and wait for him, but the bed in the bedroom was so comfortable that I fell asleep after lying down for a while.

I sat up and looked up at the long sleeves.

Probably because of his breath enveloping me, I can sleep so peacefully.

Although a little unwilling, I understand that this is how Li Zeyan expresses his feelings.

MC: Li Zeyan, you are a fool.

I couldn't help but murmured, but my heart was warm

Fragile noises came from the kitchen downstairs. I felt my flat stomach, changed my clothes and ran downstairs.

Li Zeyan turned his head when he heard the sound, still with a familiar expression on his face.

Li Zeyan: Finally woke up, I thought you were going to sleep till tomorrow

MC: How could I miss the dinner you cooked?

MC: But speaking of this, I also want to thank Mr. Li for helping me cover the quilt.

Li Zeyan: You're welcome, I just don't want to turn the vacation into taking care a fool who caught a cold.

I curled my lips secretly, but I got close to him and looked at the food in the pot curiously.

Seeing me poking my head aside, Li Zeyan stuffed the spoon into my hand.

Li Zeyan: Come and help if you want to eat early.

The warm yellow light illuminates this corner, Li Zeyan and I are standing side by side beside the flow desk.

Although the pajama plan has also failed, I am still very satisfied to have a vacation where I can see Li Zeyan as soon as I open my eyes.

I temporarily leave those careful thoughts behind and earnestly enjoy the peaceful time with him.

🍷

After dinner together, I began to wander around the house curiously.

Perhaps it is because in the suburbs, the night is extremely quiet, and there is no large light source when looking out from the window.

I was about to go back to find Li Zeyan, when I heard a "pop" in my ear, and the light in front of me went out for an instant.

MC: What happened?

Li Zeyan: MC!

Li Zeyan's voice sounded not far away, and a beam of silver light quickly lit up in the darkness.

Li Zeyan: Stand still, I'm here.

MC: Alright.

I watched the beam approach, stretched out my hand forward, and was quickly held by the warm palm.

Li Zeyan: It must be a power failure. The line has just been repaired and may be a bit unstable.

MC: Fortunately, we came together, otherwise we would be a little scared in such a big house alone.

Li Zeyan: What's so scary?

MC: Because it's so quiet here, it's dark at night

MC: And most of the plots in the movie that went into the room at midnight to commit crimes started from a sudden power failure.

I just wanted to make a joke, but after I finished speaking, I felt a little nervous and subconsciously hugged Li Zeyan's arm.

MC: Well, we should close the doors and windows, right?

Li Zeyan: I checked it while you were asleep.

Li Zeyan: Someone slept recklessly from day to night, but now she thinks of it and worry.

Thinking back to the shameful experience of falling asleep in bed, I smiled embarrassedly.

MC: I was so sleepy at the time... but Mr.Li is so attentive!

Li Zeyan: Enough with your random thoughts, let's go. Let's take a look for the switch.

I followed Li Zeyan to the gate. He used a flashlight to illuminate the switch on the wall, and the master switch pointed to "OFF".

He closed the switch lightly, and the lights in the room turned on again, and I squinted uncomfortably.

Li Zeyan: Alright, don't be afraid now.

MC: Okay.

Li Zeyan: I will check the electrical appliances again.

MC: Okay.

Li Zeyan: How long do you want to hold like this?

I was stunned for a moment, only to realize that I was still holding his arm.

Li Zeyan looked at me with some amusement. I tried to ignore the heat on my face and hugged him tighter.

MC: That's my intention, I want to go with you.

Li Zeyan: Why, stick to others without drinking today?

MC: It has nothing to do with drinking!

MC: Just in case the power goes off again, I can also help you with the flashlight.

I just made up excuses, Li Zeyan glanced at me, but put the flashlight in my hand.

Li Zeyan: This excuse is stupid, try another one next time.

MC: But you still accepted it.

Li Zeyan: I'm afraid that certain someone wouldn't sleep in the middle of the night and think about it.

MC: This is not something I can control.

MC: But if you are by my side, I have no time to think about other things.

Li Zeyan's movements seemed to pause for a moment. I didn't look up at him, but heard a deep smile came from him.

Li Zeyan: This excuse is good, I accept it.

The overlapping arms made the two of us close together, and the familiar temperature seemed to iron out all the anxiety in my heart.

Being able to stick to him with this confidence is a rare privilege.

When there are only two of us, let me use the privilege a few more times.

🍷

After yesterday's restorative sleep, I finally regained my energy this morning, and Li Zeyan's door was still closed when I got up.

It's rare that I got up earlier than him. I sneaked into the kitchen and pulled out some simple ingredients from the refrigerator to make breakfast, intending to surprise him.

As soon as I put the sandwiches on the table, I saw Li Zeyan buttoning his shirt while walking towards me.

MC: Li Zeyan, Good Morning!

He seemed stunned when he saw me and nodded slightly

Li Zeyan: Morning.

MC: Thank you, Mr. Li, for taking care of me yesterday. I will take care of today breakfast.

MC: You sit and wait for a while, it will be done soon.

I eagerly pulled the chair away, but Li Zeyan didn't sit down, just leaned against the table and watched me busy.

I made up the ice coffee, walked back to the table, and handed one of them to Li Zeyan.

This is the recipe I just learned a few days ago. Let's start with new flavors in the new year!

Li Zeyan looked at me, then glanced at the messy table, and sighed helplessly.

Li Zeyan: It seems you are very familiar no matter where you are...

MC: Hehe, because this is your home. Besides, I am very interested in the places related to you.

MC: The day before yesterday, I met my friend, Xiao Li. Maybe I can meet a different person today.

Xiao Li means Little Li, I'll just use Xiao Li since it sounds cute LOL

Li Zeyan: Then you may be disappointed.

Li Zeyan: I haven't come to this house much, and there is nothing to be curious about.

MC: Then... let's create more memories here!

MC: But in this case...

MC: Whether it is Xiao Li, Mr. Li or ordinary citizen Li Zeyan, can I have them all?

Li Zeyan was silent for a while and walked to me.

Li Zeyan: Don't you want them all? It seems you miss one. Right?

MC: Huh?

I was stunned for a moment. I didn't expect him to be more serious and had to think about his other identities seriously.

MC: Also.... Chef Li?

Li Zeyan: Wrong.

MC: Teacher Li?

Li Zeyan: Wrong

MC: .....It can't be Yan Yan, right?

I spoke carefully, and as expected, I received a merciless glance from Li Zeyan.

He leaned over and stopped me at the table. His narrow eyes looking me tightly.

Li Zeyan: Are you really stupid or pretending to be stupid, you mentioned it the day before yesterday, and you forgot it today?

I blinked and recalled the conversation from that day over and over again.

In addition to visiting his old things in his student days, there seems to be some important details that I have overlooked...

I looked at the face right in front of me, and there was a vaguely blushing face in my mind that night, holding the football I gave him in my hand.

It seemed that a corner of my heart was suddenly lit, and I suddenly realized what he was referring to.

Seems to know the answer, my heartbeat started to speed up somehow. But instead of answering directly, I suddenly wanted to tease him first.

MC: I was drunk that night.

Li Zeyan: Who said she wasn't drunk that night?

MC: Don't all drunks say that?

Li Zeyan: .....

Li Zeyan exhaled slowly, pinching my waist with one hand along his side.

Li Zeyan: Well, since someone chooses to forget, then I will help you remember.

The next second I suddenly felt like my feet were vacant and I was hugged by Li Zeyan.

Before I could react, the slippers slipped off the back of my feetㅡ

He hugged me to the dining table behind me. My skin suddenly touched the marble countertop. I couldn't help but exclaim in a low voice.

MC: So cold!

I subconsciously curled up to avoid the cold table, Li Zeyan took my ankle and pulled forward.

I almost plunged into his arms and hurriedly stepped on his legs with my feet to control the balance.

I held the glass in my hand, and was about to check whether his clothes were soiled, when a shadow suddenly covered me

Li Zeyan leaned close to me, blocking the sunlight from the skylight behind him.

Li Zeyan: I remember someone said the other day, drinking just a little alcohol will never be ashamed?

MC: I really didn’t drink a lot! It’s just my energy is a bit extra.

Li Zeyan: Well, it seems that I still remember this words.

As if giving a reward, he sent a soft kiss on my forehead.

Li Zeyan: Because the energy is a little bit extra, instead of going to bed, you ran to my room.

MC: I just want to see if you sleep or not.

Li Zeyan: By the way, you also saw all the corners of the room. The beautiful day is to know my past.

I smirked and hid back, Li Zeyan reached out and held my waist.

Li Zeyan: Don't remember this?

MC: I do! You have a lot of books, won a lot of awards, and keep a diary of your work.

Li Zeyan: Anything else?

MC: And also...

I deliberately looked around and my eyes slipped from his face to other places.

Li Zeyan made a move at the back of my waist, and I straightened up immediately and ran into his dissatisfied gaze.

Li Zeyan: Answer the questions.

MC: I, I can't remember!

Li Zeyan: Really? I can give you a hint.

Seeing Li Zeyan get closer and closer, the glass in my hand slipped, and I hurriedly raised my other hand against his chest.

MC: Wait a minute, the coffeeㅡ

Li Zeyan: Then don't move.

He put his arm around my hand holding the glass, I can neither put down the glass nor avoid him.

I raised my head in surprise, and my cheek immediately touched a warm breath.

Li Zeyan: There is a football in the corner of the room.

Li Zeyan: You seem to be particularly interested in it.

The soft lips rubbed the skin of my cheek, and I took a quick breath.

MC: Football? Isn't that what you liked to play when you were young?

Li Zeyan: Hm.

Li Zeyan: The football broke a fool's sand castle, and she cried her nose for a long time.

Li Zeyan: She couldn't coax it well, but when she's mentioned about food, she left the sand castle behind.

Li Zeyan: But it is excusable, because the dummy was only five years old at that time.

He didn't seem to want to say any more, he just looked at me quietly, and his fingers stroked the back of my hand unconsciously.

I don’t know if it’s because my side is wrapped in sunlight, or because I realize I’ve stepped into his trap

I actually feel that every skin that hasn't been touched by him is oozing thin sweat and evaporated into my brain.

I thought I caught a handle that would make him shy, but now I also put myself in it

I deliberately dragged the name that I didn’t want to say, I’m really embarrassed to say it at the moment.

I squeezed his shirt tightly, bite the bullet, and stretched it.

MC: .... and then?

Li Zeyan raised his eyebrows, but was not annoyed, else he took advantage from it and moved the ambiguous kiss to my lips.

Thick eyelashes fell on my cheeks, and all the details about that night burst in my mind in an instant.

Li Zeyan: Then, this is what happened next.

The sun set a bright outline around his body, but fell into the shadow of his forehead, rolling the familiar desires of his eyes.

He held my hand and pulled me towards him, my body shook, and I had to clamp his waist with my knees.

Li Zeyan: Need more hints?

Without waiting for my response, Li Zeyan once again rubbed my lips unhurriedly.

I made a vague protest. He raised his eyelids and glanced at me, but did not stop.

How does this make people answer!

I became angry and raised my head and took a bite to his lower lip. Li Zeyan finally stopped, with a slight smile in his eyes.

Li Zeyan: Learn to bite?

MC: you did this on purpose!

Li Zeyan: You know the answer is still hidden, didn't you also do it on purpose?

Li Zeyan: The best way to deal with an idiot is to give a tooth for a tooth.

MC: ....Li Zeyan, you bad at it!

Li Zeyan smiled lightly, and didn't seem to mind my completely unreasonable accusations.

I looked at his calm look and sighed in frustration.

MC: ... After all this, can't you just be shy?

Li Zeyan: Who do you think I am doing this for?

I was stunned for a moment and saw that he narrowed his smile and looked at me earnestly.

Li Zeyan: I said how you always do strange things these days.

Li Zeyan: Deliberately deceive others to drink, not pretending to be drunk, and have to wear other people's clothes.

Li Zeyan: What's plan do you have?

My brain was in a mess, and I simply said what I was thinking.

MC: Because you are always calm, I also want to try if I can make you shy once.

MC: Although I may often do stupid things, I don't want to be treated as a child by you.

MC: After all, I’m not that five-year-old idiot anymore. I want to see you blushing and thumping heart for me.

I took a look at Li Zeyan, then buried my head on his shoulder a little embarrassedly, and mumbled.

MC: And, you don’t know how cute you are when you are shy.

MC: No one else has seen it, only I will see that side of you.

Li Zeyan was silent for a moment, he sighed slightly.

Li Zeyan: Have you seen who would invest five hundred million for a child?

MC: ....

Li Zeyan: From the first time I saw you, I have never treated you as a child.

Li Zeyan: Calling you a dummy is also because the childish things you do are indeed not suitable for your age.

I lowered my head and hummed slightly.

This person really does not let go of any opportunity to complain about me...

Li Zeyan: Also, the same goes for you.

MC: Huh?

Li Zeyan: You are cute when you do these silly things.

Li Zeyan: However, you don't need to do these as well.

I was stunned to feel the temperature coming from my cheek, but the sound of my heartbeat clearly betrayed my surprise.

I couldn't help but raised the corners of my mouth and straightened up to say something.

MC: Li Zeyanㅡ

Li Zeyan: Wrong answer.

The person in front of me frowned slightly, and I swallowed my saliva carefully. It turned out that this matter hasn't passed yet...

MC: Have you called it so many times when you were a kid?

Li Zeyan: it's different.

Li Zeyan: I want you to answer now.

Li Zeyan: Finally, I give you a chance.

I took a deep breath and was about to speak when I suddenly felt cold in my thighs.

The iced coffee in my hand made the glass frost, and cold water drops on my lap.

I subconsciously wanted to lower my head and wipe, Li Zeyan quickly pinched my chin.

Li Zeyan: Don't be distracted.

MC: I just....

Li Zeyan: Answer me, which Li Zeyan did you miss just now?

Drops of water slip off the skin, leaving a slight itching along the way.

The voice of the person in front of him was low, with a hint of coaxing, like a light rain gradually dripping underneath his heart, and every drop of rain was tickling.

I opened my mouth, my trembling throat almost couldn't control my voice.

MC: Brother Zeyan... (Zéyán gēgē…)

The air seemed to be quiet for a second, then the coffee in my hand was quickly evacuated, colliding with the cup and plate behinds, and Li Zeyan pushed it away.

I almost stared at the person in front of me, but he suddenly avoided my gaze and spoke in a low voice.

Li Zeyan: Close your eyes.

MC: Why?

Li Zeyan: No reason.

He leaned over and kissed my eyes lightly, which forced me to close my eyes obediently.

A generous palm supported the back of my head, and then a very nostalgic kiss dispelled all my doubts.

Even if I can't see his expression at this moment, I can clearly feel his unspoken mood.

That piece of debris that had floated many years ago was finally firmly embedded in the last vacancy, full of joy called "consummation".

I tentatively reached out my hand to find his shoulder and caught his neck.

The overlapping arms are like a lead, burning the entanglement between the lips and teeth to more corners. The scorching breath keeps falling, scorching the warm and cool skin.

The warm palm steadily supported my body, and aroused an unbearable tremor at the touch.

I tried to hold back the warmth that I wanted to overflow between my teeth, and secretly opened my eyes to look at him.

The sun honestly illuminates his reddish face, and a pair of eyes that are always unpredictable are also shining with some simple satisfaction.

I couldn't help but stretched out my hand to stroke his cheek, his eyes met my gaze, unexpectedly showing a trace of helplessness.

Probably didn't expect that I would take the opportunity to take a peek, and Li Zeyan's ears became red.

MC: Haha.

Li Zeyan: What are you laughing at?

MC: It's nothing, I just think your shy look is really cute.

Li Zeyan: ...

Li Zeyan: Your wish came true, happy?

MC: Happy!

Deliberately ignoring Li Zeyan's slightly dissatisfied gaze, I squeezed his cheek lightly, and then actively pressed down the back of his head and pecked at his lips.

This person who has always loved a poker face from childhood is have a warm and soft touch.

My heart was filled with unspeakable tenderness, and I couldn't help but kiss him again.

The voice falling in the ear hides an unexpected tremor, I smiled and let go of him.

MC: Thank you for letting me know you more.

MC: Sure enough, no matter which side of Li Zeyan it is, you’re still my favorite.

Li Zeyan looked at me for a while, then suddenly smiled.

Li Zeyan: Are you telling the truth?

MC: You can tell it all.

Li Zeyan: Indeed.

Li Zeyan: Then let me listen to this truth.

The sun shining from the skylight hung his shadow on me, and slowly overlapped with my shadow in the afterglow.

His fingertips, his palm rubbed against my hot heart, as if he was trying to vain all my thoughts.

Time is stretched infinitely in the lingering breath

And what melted in time was his long and stitched response.

🍷 🍷 🍷 END 🍷 🍷 🍷

I’m sorry if there’s some mistranslation. Kindly tell me if you found some :) thank you for read it~ ^^

Notes from me:

No plan for translating other dates after this

─=≡Σ((( つ＞＜)つ

#MLQC #MLDD #Mr.Love #mlqc spoilers #mlqc cn #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc date #mr love spoilers #mr love victor

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writer-ish · 3 years

Text

the little things

pairing: mason x detective (grace bennett) word count: 3K words | rating: T (language)

summary: An exhausted and overworked Detective gets a sweet surprise. For Week 2, Day 6 of @wayhavensummer: Farmer's Market.

special note: After maybe a month or so of writing nothing (aside from 100-200 words here and there that, had they not been on a computer, I would have immediately crumpled them up and thrown them into a wastebasket), I sat down today and wrote this entire thing in a few hours. It is raw, unedited, and probably more reflective of my own personal state of mind than I'd like. That said, I am yeeting it into the tumblr void and then going out for the night - so uh, enjoy? be kind? and thank you for reading. ♥️

“Let’s go to the thing.”

Detective Grace Bennett looked up from her computer screen, her gaze blurry and unfocused, as she tried to parse together the words she’d just heard coming from the doorway to her office.

“The… thing?” she mumbled distractedly, digging the heels of her hands into her eye sockets in an attempt to violently will them to work properly. What time is it—? It must still be midnight or close to it—

Blinking rapidly, she watched as the numbers on the bottom of her computer screen came into a sort of unsettled, electric focus.

6:02 AM.

Fuck.

She had been working on her reports for seven fucking hours. All the way through the night. Once again, forgoing sleep in an attempt to pretend she had a grasp on all the things that she was responsible for - Detective of Wayhaven, Agency liaison, good friend, good daughter, good—

She looked up, remembering once more that she was no longer alone at the station.

Mason stood in the doorway, languidly leaning against its frame, arms crossed. To the casual observer, his posture was relaxed, his expression nondescript.

But Grace knew him well enough now to recognize the sharp keenness in his eyes. The way they took in every detail of her appearance, from the haphazardly tossed-up hair, to the rumpled blouse, to what she could only presume were lines of haggard exhaustion running through her features.

He could likely smell the day-old ice cold coffee by her side. The half-eaten ham sandwich crumpled beside it.

Again, his expression hardly belied a recognition of any of that. Instead, he appeared to simply be a person waiting patiently to hear the answer to a question he’d asked.

But somehow - she didn’t know how, and yet - Grace knew better.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a sigh, pushing away from her desk. “What did you say again?”

“It’s Friday,” was his reply.

She inwardly groaned. Grace was not in the mood for riddles, and the enigmatic, indifferent phrasing of his response caused a surge of exhaustion-induced annoyance to flow through her body. Dropping her head into her hands, she took a deep breath.

Perhaps he took pity on her. Perhaps he realized that his typical reticent abruptness was not going to go over well this morning.

Whatever it was, Grace suddenly felt a hand on the back of her down-turned head. A light pat, then strong fingertips moving through the locks until they hit her scalp, kneading gently on contact.

She let out a soft groan, her shoulders wilting further, elbows almost giving out, as the painful yet pleasurable push of his fingers worked her sore and tired head and nape.

“The market thing,” he said softly after a moment, a moment in which she was certain she had become a barely-sentient pile of mush on top of her keyboard. “That they do in the square. It’s Friday. You like to go. I was going to take you.”

It took a moment for his words to penetrate the pleasure haze encompassing her weary brain, but when they did, she felt her body still.

He was offering to go to the Farmer’s Market with her?

It was true, she did enjoy going. Before the infiltration of Unit Bravo into their lives, her and Tina used to go together every week in the summer to peruse the wares and fresh produce of the local farmers—most coming from just outside the small city limits of Wayhaven, but others from even further away. There was always something delicious and fresh to purchase or some trinket that would catch their eye. Grace had lost count of the number of handmade soaps she’d impulsively bought, only to shove them under her bathroom sink and never use them.

But then, after the arrival of Unit Bravo, after Grace’s promotion, when things got busier - when things got more dangerous - she would find herself able to go less and less. If she did manage to make it out, she’d usually end up taking Nate with her for protection. It was the type of thing he enjoyed, too; just the concept of it, as well as the simple pleasure of a new experience. Plus, Mason had always refused to be caught dead anywhere near such a cacophonic plethora of different people, bright colours, and various smells.

So the fact that he was offering to take her today, now, was an incredibly unexpected development.

“Are you sure?” she asked, barely even trying to keep the disbelief out of her voice. She looked up at him, standing so closely to her, his hand still warm and comforting on the back of her neck. “You know it’s—the same, as it’s always been. Right?”

He snorted. “Yeah, I know. And yeah, I’m sure.”

“Alright, well—” She was about to acquiesce, self consciously taking her hair out of its messy bun and running her fingers through it in an ineffectual attempt to make it look presentable, but then she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the computer screen and groaned. Suddenly she felt a need to backtrack on her initial agreement.

“Honestly? I look wrecked, I haven’t slept in twenty-four hours, and I doubt I’d be very good company right now. Also, you hate the Farmer’s Market. Why torture us both?”

Even as the words left her mouth, she knew she was making excuses for his sake more than her own. The fact was, she’d gotten a surge of adrenaline at the idea of going now, on a quiet, cool summer morning, when things would just be opening up and most of the town was still sleeping—to get a nice hot coffee and a pastry. To pick up some strawberries and peaches. To look for a new candle or maybe another handmade tsotchke that she didn’t need to add to her already colourful and cheerfully cluttered space. And, most of all, to spend the time with Mason.

But still. She looked like shit and she knew he hated the thought of going - Why did he offer, then? her traitorous thoughts couldn’t help but wonder - so what was the point?

As though he could read her roiling thoughts - the fact that she wanted to go and the reasons why she thought they shouldn’t - he affected a frustrated sigh and leaned over her, bracing one hand on her desk and running the other from her neck down to her back.

“Get up, Detective.” With the one arm around her back, he hoisted her out of her seat. She found herself stumbling into the warm comfort of his chest, her cheek resting against the soft material of his black t-shirt.

Her hands grasped at the back of it as she steadied herself and she looked up at him, even closer now, chest to chest, their arms around each other. He leaned forward and her breath hitched slightly, but his lips only met the tip of her nose before he pulled back and held her at arm’s length.

“Change,” he commanded, pointedly looking at her wrinkled shirt and coffee-stained trousers, “and then meet me outside the station. You have three minutes.”

Still reeling from the playful kiss, she touched her nose lightly and watched him saunter out.

It took her a moment to snap back to reality and remember what she was supposed to be doing. “Right, clothes.”

In two-and-a-half minutes, she had stripped down, shoved her old clothes in her bag, and changed into the spare outfit she kept in the office: a winning combo of bicycle shorts and a light-grey oversized shirt with the words WAYHAVEN PD on it in large block letters. She’d ditched the heels, slipped on her spare runners, and did a quick rinse and spit into her old coffee cup with the mouthwash she kept in her desk “for emergencies” only, managing to meet Mason outside with thirty seconds to spare.

She caught him flick his cigarette to the ground before straightening up as she approached.

As she always did when she had the opportunity, she found herself admiring the view he provided - tall, broad-shouldered and sinewy, like a Hellenic sculpture come to life. His hair tumbled in dark waves towards his shoulders - he needed a cut, she thought to herself - his mouth naturally sullen, even when it was pulled to the side in a smirk, like it was in that moment. Hands in the pockets of his dark jeans, half-tucked into his standard black boots, which he still wore despite the heat that was already beginning to infiltrate the crisp morning air.

He looked like a goddamn supermodel, while she looked like she was taking her two-point-five children to soccer practice. She tugged self-consciously at her shorts.

“This is all I had—” she began apologetically as soon as she got close to him, but her words were cut off by his lips on hers.

All thoughts of self-consciousness vanished as she wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. She felt her feet leave the ground as he held her closer to him, his mouth tasting faintly of cigarettes and entirely of Mason, a combination that always managed to make her feel lightheaded. She couldn’t help the tiny moan that escaped from deep in her throat and he tightened his grip on her further, stroking her tongue with his, leaving her pulse racing in more places than one.

After a moment he set her down and pulled away, keeping one arm loosely wrapped around her shoulders.

“Better go now before we don’t go at all,” he said gruffly, leading her to her car.

By the time they got to the Farmer’s Market, the majority of the stands had opened, farmers and local merchants laying out their produce and wares.

All feelings of tiredness that had begun to seep into Grace’s consciousness on the drive over - Mason had generously offered to drive “this heap of crap”, as he’d put it, seeing how she was probably in no state to operate heavy machinery - vanished as they parked and approached the town square.

She looked up and watched as Mason appeared to brace himself, jaw tight, nostrils flaring.

“Hey.” He looked down at the sound of her voice, the feel of her hand resting gently on his chest. “Are you sure about this?”

She watched as his body appeared to physically drain of tension, his hitched-up shoulders gentling slowly downwards, his jaw unclenching, fists unfurling. His eyes closed briefly and he placed his hand over the one that still lay over his heart.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” His smirk came back to his lips slowly. “Let’s buy you some fruit.”

She laughed at the intentional absurdity of his remark, feeling something akin to joy bubble up in her chest. She knew better than to chalk it up to anything but sleep deprivation-induced delirium, but whatever it was, it was a high she was planning to ride for as long as she could before the inevitable crash.

They wandered through the colourful stalls, Mason waiting patiently as Grace felt for the good peaches, smelled the baskets of strawberries, picked through for the perfect cherries. He dutifully held the baskets and burlap bags she handed to him, shooing away her concerns about the smells or the feel of the scratchy material on his skin.

It was still early for Wayhaven and they were practically the only two there, aside from the people at their stands and Haley, as always, ready with her carafe of coffee and some fresh-baked pastries for selling.

Grace gratefully filled her cup with a smile, before noticing that Haley was gesturing her forward. Leaning in, she gave her friend a quizzical look.

“You guys are good now?” she whispered, nodding over Grace’s shoulder.

Grace turned in the direction Haley had gestured, her eyes catching on Mason. He was looking intently at a collection of wind chimes a few stalls down, his hands full of the fruits and goodies she’d acquired, a long baguette sticking out of one of the bags.

Her heart swelled at the sight of him, in that sharp, needful way it always did, a pleasure-pain that reminded her of the way he’d stroked her hair earlier. So necessary, so vital, so scary, so new: all these things that she held to be true about her feelings towards him. The knowledge that she needed him, perhaps—no, certainly more than he needed her, and the fear that it was all-too fleeting. Nothing more than just a memory, already half cooked.

“Yeah,” she said softly, feeling her mouth turn upwards into a smile she knew didn’t quite reach her eyes. “He’s—we’re good.”

Haley nodded, pleased, before offering Grace a cherry danish that she refused to accept payment for. Grace took another bracing sip of hot coffee and turned back to Mason, only to find he’d disappeared.

She meandered a bit through the remaining stalls, debated the necessity of yet another vanilla sandalwood candle or birthstone necklace, and glanced up more than occasionally to see if she could spot where he’d gone or if he was going to return.

Right at the point where she was starting to worry, the weariness of her wakeful hours suddenly threatening to catch up to her in the kind of hysteria that only exhaustion could create, he appeared.

He still carried her two baskets of fruit and a large burlap reusable shopping bag with that telltale baguette and a few other things she couldn’t even remember now, but in his arms was—

In his arms, he was holding—

Okay, she was crying.

Goddamn lack of sleep, she was actually fucking crying in the middle of the Farmer’s Market.

As soon as he got close enough to see her tears, he came to a dead stop and threw his hands up in the air, weighted down as they were.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” His tone was a mix of fond exasperation and abject disbelief at the sight of Grace, coffee in hand, forgotten danish dripping cherry filling onto the ground, blubbering like a baby in the midst of all the produce and plants.

But she couldn’t help it, damn it, because he’d gotten her flowers.

Her grouchy, hundred-year-old, vampire non-boyfriend, who hated Farmer’s Markets and crowds and flowers themselves, had gone off on his own and come back with a bouquet of sunflowers, delphiniums, lilacs, and daisies and Detective Grace Bennett—

Could.

Not.

Handle.

It.

She pressed her lips together tightly, just for another sob to escape.

“Jesus Christ, Gracie.” He gently put down everything he was holding to approach her, likely exhibiting extra caution because of how incredibly unhinged she must have appeared in that moment, before bracing his hands on her shoulders. “What the hell is the matter?”

“Honestly—” Her calm, mostly unwavering tone probably leant her an even more psychotic air, as she could feel the tears continue to streak down her cheeks. “—I’m just really tired, but also I really, really love those flowers.” She hiccuped. “So much.”

His face cleared of its worry and instead he shook his head, affectionate exasperation back in his expression. “You’re nuts, you know that?” He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. She leaned into him, partly from weariness and partly because she couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

He squeezed her tightly for a moment and then, bending over, he picked up her bags and the flowers as she scrubbed her face with her hands. He made to hand her the bouquet wrapped in plastic and newspaper, but when she reached for it, he suddenly pulled it back with a tsk-ing noise.

“No more crying, got it?” He pointed the flowers at her along with his warning.

She laughed, even as she felt the telltale tingle start in her nose once more.

“Yes, no more crying. I promise,” she added, making an X over her chest with her pointer finger. “Gimme.”

He passed her the bouquet, a soft smile on his lips as he watched her bury her face in the colourful blooms and take a big inhale.

“Magical,” she sighed happily, before looking up him. She could feel her eyes fill again and his own eyes narrowed, but she just smiled and shook her head. “Thank you.”

His expression softened and he gave her a nod. “Let’s go. Get you to bed.”

She made a teasing noise, a heckling gesture that acknowledged his innuendo, but he just snorted and shook his head.

“You, sweetheart, are sleeping for the next twelve hours. I don’t care how much you beg.”

“But you love it when I beg,” she whispered, resting her chin on his shoulder, then giggled as he looked at her in surprise.

“Are you drunk?” he asked incredulously and she couldn’t help but dissolve into giggles again.

“Just delirious, I think,” she said, wiping more tears - these ones from mirth, rather than an overwhelming feeling of adoration over a thoughtful gesture from a sort-of boyfriend - from her eyes. “But yeah. We should go.”

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked, transferring her Farmer’s Market treasures to his other hand and wrapping his free arm around her shoulders so he could guide her out of the town square.

She looked up at him, this big, grouchy vampire man, so reticent to talk about his feelings and yet so quick to show her how much he cared in a million little ways: his nose subtly wrinkling from the smell of the flowers that he’d gotten for her, his tight hold on her purchases, his arm protectively around her shoulders, shielding her from the growing crowd and guiding her back to her car.

The way he kept looking down at her, eyes scanning her face for further outbursts.

The fact that he’d brought her here in the first place, simply because he knew it was something she liked.

Was she going to be okay?

“Oh yeah,” she said, laughing at his groan upon seeing tears well up in her eyes again. She shook her head to try and get her emotions in check, before standing up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. He shot her a disgruntled look that just made her laugh even harder.

A summer morning. The sights and sounds of the Wayhaven Farmer’s Market. Mason’s arm around her. All the tiredness, the endless work, the stress - it all just disappeared in that moment and Grace could only think of one word to describe how she felt.

“I’m perfect.”

- ☀️🍓💐 -

#wayhavensummer #the wayhaven chronicles #mason x detective #twc mason #twc fic #farmer's market #wayhaven summer: day 6 #day 6: farmer's market #a thing!!!#i have written!#let us rejoice!#mason x grace

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years

Text

Day 19: Prinxiety/Loceit (pt 3)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 is here, with a little added something thrown in! Hope you enjoy!

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 19 - Everyone is born with a compass on their wrist, the needle of the compass points towards your soulmate.

Trigger/content warnings!! Dissociation, PTSD, talk of conversion therapy and aftereffects/internalized homophobia, food mentions, nausea, anxiety/panic attack, unintentionally skipping meals, emetophobia/vomiting, pulling hair (does that count as self harm?).

Word count: 5k

He barely remembered the hospital. It was all just a blur of doctors and police officers and more sleep than he’d gotten in weeks. After the first night of twitching in the dark confines of his hospital room and waking up screaming from nightmares the few brief seconds his consciousness faded, he was given sleeping pills, and the rest of the visit was quickly forgotten. The clearest part of the two week stay was near the end, when he was deemed physically well enough to give a statement to his social worker and a policeman, describing his ‘therapy’ and his life at the foster home, which quickly dissolved into a panic attack. They had enough though, and he was left with a sick satisfaction that they weren’t getting away with what they’d done to him.

They’d lied to him. They had told him the system agreed with what they were doing, allowing it, condoning it. At first, he’d refused to believe them, because that made no sense. But they took his only form of contact, didn’t allow him to leave the house except for therapy, and his eventual addition of medication far too strong for him made him paranoid. Maybe he didn’t believe them as much as he was just trying to survive. He still didn’t know how they’d managed to keep up the charade when they were being checked on bi-weekly; he hadn’t even known when said visits were happening.

“They’ll be spending some time in prison for child abuse. Not nearly enough, but still,” A social worker said quietly as he drove him back to his old group home. Virgil stared numbly out the window. “The kids were taken from them for the time being. They were deemed unfit parents. Foster care until they can find either some relatives or the parents are allowed them back.”

He didn’t react, although his heart nearly stopped in his chest. The parents hadn’t been great, but the kids had been happy enough. And now they were forced into a shoddy system… because of him. Virgil blinked rapidly to stop the tears that threatened to flow.

“You alright, Virge?”

He finally turned from the blurry mass of green trees out the car window, turning blankly to the man driving. The worker glanced from the road to meet his eyes, sighing.

No, he wasn’t alright. But he’d never say otherwise. Volunteering information about himself was how he’d gotten himself into this situation in the first place. He wasn’t about to do it again.

----------

That had been almost a month ago, and he was still to break out of his selective mutism. It wasn’t as if he was choosing not to speak; it wasn’t stubbornness. He felt as if his brain and his mouth were disconnected, like his thoughts were less coherent and more just abstract emotion, and he couldn’t turn them into words. Any question that couldn’t be answered by a simple nod or head shake was met with a blank stare, a far off gaze, that was unnerving to anyone. They’d tried to put him back into therapy, but the moment it was mentioned, Virgil spiralled into the worst panic attack he could ever remember having.

He’d gotten his old room back, with two new kids as his roommates. He quickly built up the same reputation as before: this room is mine unless you’re sleeping. No kid wanted to be near him when he was awake, staring at nothing, his only movements being his occasional blinking. Frankly, the younger ones were scared of him.

And he didn’t care.

Some days he fell so deep into dissociating that he didn’t even react when he was called for dinner. The world around him dissolved, blurry and unfocused and just quiet, retreating into his own mind where he could breathe. Reality was too much. It was just… too much. One of his doctors had said it might be a side effect as they eased him off his criminally high dose of antipsychotics they’d hidden in his drinks, but that was an afterthought. He was warm, he was full (when he was aware enough to eat), and so he faded into his head. He’d cope with his trauma another day.

“You haven’t eaten all day, honey,” A soft voice said and he blinked, looking up from his bed sheets at the worker. She was one of his favorites; gentle, quiet, respecting his boundaries. In her hands was a plate with dinner on it.

He gave an almost imperceptible nod, barely more than a single bob, and she sat across from him on the bed, placing the plate in front of him. With heavy hands, he lifted a cold green bean to his mouth. It was gross, but the plate was empty in minutes. Apparently it had been a whole day.

“Virgil, I want to talk to you,” She said. Now full, his brain would let him stay present for a little while until dissociation took over again. He pushed himself back against the wall and brought his knees to his chest, watching her movements.

“It’s not anything bad, I promise. I’ve been talking with some other workers, some connections I have across the state.”

He didn’t like where this was going.

“One of them suggested a couple that’s fostered for over a decade. They have a fantastic record, so I got into contact with them-”

“No.” The first thing he’d said in weeks, his voice scratchy from disuse. For once, the mess in his brain came together to form the single word, an immediate rejection. He pushed himself farther away from her, shaking his head violently. “No, no, no.”

“Virgil, breathe,” She reached out a hand and Virgil flinched so hard his head hit the wall. The hand retreated. “You don’t have to go with them if you’re uncomfortable, hun. Please just trust me, though, they’d never do anything that they did.”

He glared at her, trying to read her expression in the dark room. Silence stretched between them as Virgil’s thoughts drifted back to their state of quietude, leaving him unable to form words, beginning to drift away from reality. His eyelids flickered as focusing became harder, his mind’s eye suddenly alight with the blinding white lights of the therapy room.

“Will you meet them at least, Virgil? Just for a few minutes? And if you still say no after, I’ll never bring them up again.”

He found himself nodding without properly meaning it. He just wanted her to leave… he just wanted to be alone. So he could drift away, without having to fear anyone hurting him anymore.

She left, taking the empty plate with her.

----------

Just because he knew today he was meeting his potential (not gonna happen) foster parents, it didn’t mean he was allowed to be present for the rest of the day. His favorite worker had come back again, motivating him to get ready and dressed, since he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to find the energy to even just put on a sweater, much less get himself completely ready.

Looking in the mirror hurt. His hair was starting to grow back, just barely long enough to run his fingers through, never mind getting anywhere long enough to cover his eyes like it used to. The bags under his eyes were darker than he could remember them ever being and his hands shook as he brushed his teeth. Biting down on the bristles, he grabbed a towel and threw it over the mirror, feeling a slight tinge of relief when he was no longer forced to look at himself. The social worker watched from the doorway, silently.

He was tempted to go to sleep when he was done, completely exhausted from the little bit of work. But she brought him breakfast and his stomach growled in agreement, so he ate enough of the oatmeal to satiate his hunger, and not a bite more. A nervous nausea was already swirling in his gut and he didn’t need to add to it.

“Would you like to be left alone?” She asked, taking the empty bowl.

Virgil nodded, already feeling the heaviness and emptiness that came with dissociation starting to creep through his limbs.

“I’ll come let you know when they’re here, okay?” He had no recollection of her leaving the room, but the next time he drifted back to the present, she was gone.

He took a nap around noon, too tired and overwhelmed to stay awake for any longer. Plus, with new rushes of anxiety flooding his system every couple seconds, he was ready to not be conscious for a hot minute. He tried to convince himself that it would be okay, he’d struggle through an awkward meeting where the foster parents would eventually give up on him and leave, and he could spend his remaining year and a month in the system. Hopefully in that year he could figure enough out to survive when he was alone.

A joyous child screeching downstairs woke him up three hours later, jerking him awake with a pounding heart.

It wasn’t an hour later when there was a soft knock at his door and he threw himself into the corner, pulling his blanket up to his chest. No, no, no, he wasn’t ready- The door opened painfully slowly, spilling the light from the hallway into his pitch black room.

“Virgil? I’m here with one of the foster parents, can I come in?”

She poked her head into the room and squinted to meet his eyes in the darkness, eventually finding his hunched form on his bed. Wordlessly, she opened the door all the way and walked up to him, flicking on the bedside lamp. A pleasantly soft light filled the room, illuminating the man standing at the door. Virgil began to shake.

He wasn’t overly tall, probably just a head or so taller than Virgil, dressed in a plain yellow button up and black jeans. At first, he didn’t seem too intimidating, but neither had the other family at first glance. When he walked into the room, just so he was less of a silhouette, Virgil eyes were drawn to the large burn scar covering the left side of his face, just a shade darker than the right, but the skin mottled and textured.

“Virgil, this is Janus Oakmen. His husband was unable to join him today, but-”

Husband? Virgil’s breath hitched. His husband, his husband, he’s gay, gay gay gay- His anxiety skyrocketed, and he couldn’t help the electric-like impulses that ran up his spine and out his fingers. He clenched his fist to hide the remaining twitches.

She seemed to stumble over her words, trying to hide her shock. To her luck, the man interrupted, smiling softly down at Virgil.

“I’d like to speak to Virgil alone, if he’s alright with that.”

“I’ll be waiting just outside the door,” She said hurriedly, rushing out and closing the door behind her. And they were alone.

Janus looked at him for barely a second before taking a seat on the bottom bunk on the other side of the small room, folding his hands on his lap.

“Technically, I asked if you were okay with it, but…” He gestured weakly to the door. “Oh, well. I was told you don’t talk, Virgil.”

He stared in response, wrapping his fists up in the blanket. The man gave a breathy chuckle, but there was no animosity behind it.

“That’s okay. Just wanted to double check. Is it okay with you if I just talk, then?”

No adult had ever asked Virgil for permission for anything twice in under a minute. His social workers kind of just did what they had to, and he’d never been in a home where that kind of thing was the norm. It was more ‘the kids ask for everything, and the parents get what they want, no questions asked’. Needless to say, he was taken aback.

He nodded weakly, realizing the man was waiting for a response.

“Fabulous. Ignoring all the boring details you wouldn’t care about, my name is Janus. Like, from mythology, not a PTA mom. I’m thirty-five, and my husband Logan and I have been fostering since we were twenty-two, so we know what we’re doing. We love it.”

Virgil slowly let his legs unfurl, stretching them out in front of him under the blanket.

“We actually weren’t intending to foster this year, since Logan is looking for a new job. His current one just made it necessary for him to travel more than he would like to, so we wanted to press pause until he was happy at a new one. And then we got a call from good ole Bev out there.” He waved at the door again, cracking a smile. “She told us a little bit of your story, and Logan and I instantly said yes. If you’ll have us, that is.”

The vague idea of “why?” crossed Virgil’s mind, and it must have translated to his face, because Janus continued.

“When I was fifteen, I came out to my parents as gay. I didn’t think it was a big deal, but they weren’t such big fans, and they put me in conversion therapy.”

His heart stopped. Another round of shocks through his arms.

“We can talk about that more another day, if you want. I know that’s a tough topic for you. Needless to say, it didn’t work. Because it doesn’t work,” He shrugged, an annoyed tone finding its way into his words, “I understand what you’re going through, to an extent. If anyone can help you, it’s us. I’ve been there. And I promise, we’re fiercely protective. We’d never let anything bad happen to you.”

He stopped, leaning forward on his hands. Virgil realized he probably couldn’t see him that well except for his outline, due to him being pressed into the darkest corner of the room. Despite every cell in his body screaming that it was a trick, he scooted forward into the light of the lamp, still shaking.

“There you are. Hello, Virgil.”

Virgil raised a trembling hand in a half hearted greeting.

“I know this is a big, terrifying thing to ask of you. And I’ll understand if you say no. But if you feel safe, we’d love to have you for however long you’re comfortable with. Would you like to think it over?”

He nodded immediately. It wasn’t the hard ‘no’ he had expected himself to feel, and that was more unsettling than it should have been.

“Okay. You do that. Take however long you need,” Janus said as he stood up, straightening his shirt, “It’s been great to meet you, Virgil.”

And he was gone. The social worker came back a short while later, but Virgil was completely gone by the time she did. He didn’t respond to her dinner calls, didn’t eat when the meal was placed in front of him, safely retreated into the silent part of his mind where he was safe from panic attacks and hard choices.

---

He said yes. Of course he did. He was far too intrigued by the man he’d met to refuse. He was scared shitless, that was a given; the first week after meeting Janus, he’d refused to leave his bed, refused to eat or shower or leave his huddle against the wall until the caretaker was basically pleading with him. Even then, it was a struggle to not throw up from sheer terror.

But his social worker must have seen the way he was giving in, yearning for a grasp of hope in equal parts as his fear, because she set about to convince him. Promised more thorough checks once a week, daily phone calls to keep in touch, and an immediate pick up the moment he was unsure. Bit by bit his resolve was broken, until he finally agreed to give it a try, rushing from her presence moments later to hurl his dinner into the toilet. Hopefully his nerves would relax over time.

The day came when he was to leave the group home, and he spent none of it in the present. He was so dissociated, so deeply embedded within his own mind, that he wasn’t even able to pack his belongings. His social worker was kind enough to do it for him (though the task itself took less than half an hour- he didn’t own that much) and he didn’t even notice she was in the room, talking, until his black garbage bag was placed on the bed in front of him.

“ -unresponsive like this all day. We’re not sure what to do.”

“No doubt a response to his overwhelming fear of being placed in a new home after the disaster of his previous one. May I speak to him alone?”

“Of course.”

“Want me to leave too, Lo?”

“No, Janus, you can stay. It may be nice to have your expertise in the subject lest it become pertinent.”

There was some shuffling at the very corners of his consciousness, the light from the hallways lighting up the divots of his rumpled clothing bag, and one of the people were gone. His bedside lamp was flicked on.

“Thank you, Janus.”

A weight on the bed was the first thing to really snap Virgil back to the presence, for the first time noticing the two men before him. The one standing, he recognized as Janus. The other sitting in front of him, though, he didn’t know. Virgil blinked rapidly, slowly pushing himself further back into his bed frame, despite how it dug into his shoulders.

“Hello, Virgil. My name is Logan. I take it you’ve met my husband?”

Janus shot him a soft smirk, copying Virgil’s little wave from when they’d first interracted. He barely restrained a rush of twitches, playing it off as a shuffle to rearrange his blanket.

“Do you think you could move forward just enough to place your feet on the ground? You don’t have to stand, just to begin the process of grounding?”

Virgil didn’t trust this guy for anything. He didn’t know his intentions, knew nothing about him, and his repressed mental state wasn’t making his cognitive reasoning any better. If Logan could help him ground, maybe it would be easier to figure out if they were trustworthy. Odd, that for this to work, he had to trust them enough to ground around them.

He scooted forward, letting his feet flutter off the bed and rest on the floor.

“Well done, Virgil. Press them to the floor firmly. Janus, do you have- ah, wonderful.”

Virgil looked up, nearly throwing himself back as Janus reached out a hand to him. There was something clutched in his fingers, but all the youngest could suddenly think was electrode electrode it’s going to hurt they’re going to hurt you don’t let it touch you don’tletittouchyou DON’T!

“It’s just gum, Virge, it’s okay.”

Oh. His hand paused as he reached out for the offering, a new thought coming to mind. Should he trust food from strangers? What if they’d drugged it, like his old foster home? He bit his lip, slowly retreating back into himself.

The man seemed to see his hesitation, popping the piece into his mouth and offering one right from the package.

“I didn’t mess with it, I swear.”

He took the gum, recoiling at the harsh taste almost instantly.

“Yeah, it doesn’t taste great. But I chewed like a pack of this a day when dissociation was a bitch. Snaps you back to the present like-”

“Language, Janus.”

“I’m sure he’s heard worse.”

“That doesn’t mean we should encourage it.”

Virgil couldn’t help the tiny smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. He hadn’t seen just casual bickering in a long time.

“We brought one more bribe-”

“It is not a bribe-”

He outright snorted at Logan’s aghast tone, slapping a hand over his mouth to muffle the noise. Janus looked utterly pleased with himself, slowly handing over a bundle he’d had wrapped under his arm.

“Again, to help with grounding. And it’s a bit of a drive to our place, so maybe you can get some sleep in the car.”

It was a deep purple blanket, almost impossibly soft to the touch. Virgil couldn’t help run his fingers over the plush material, fighting the urge to just smash his face into it. Keeping an eye on the two, Virgil unfolded it and wrapped it tightly around himself, settling to just let his cheek rub against where it was draped over his shoulder.

It took another twenty minutes for him to feel able to walk without stumbling, but if he left the group home in a fuzzy blanket and starting to feel safer than he had in months, that was his to admit. And he wouldn’t… not yet.

-----------

Virgil stared down at the piece of paper clutched tightly in his hand, re-reading his shitty handwriting for the millionth time. He knew it was proper grammar, and nothing was spelled wrong, and it was clear and concise, but a part of him was still nervous about the idea of giving it to Janus. He was still hesitant to speak, and his new foster family was more than accommodating, giving him a small white board to write on, and even teaching him the most basic sign language for simple questions (courtesy of Logan). One day, he hoped he’d get his confidence back enough to speak, but right now, he felt no rush.

Being surrounded with these new people, even for the three short weeks he’d been there, had already been enough to minimize his dissociating spells. Logan didn’t have to leave for another work trip for another week, and Janus worked from home anyways, so he was getting way more love and affection than he was ever used to. He hadn’t quite given in to Janus’ offered hugs, or any casual touch at all really, but he was getting used to one of the two just sitting with him for hours, covering him with weighted and fuzzy blankets, and gently distracting him with puzzles or that god-awful gum or just repeating where he was, and that he was safe. Was this what being loved was supposed to feel like?

So he trudged down the steps, hearing the shower running as he walked past the master bedroom, and slowly approached Janus at the dining room table. The man turned to greet him, giving him that soft smirk.

“Morning, kid. Happy birthday.”

Virgil smiled shyly, remembering the sign for thank you after a moment, and dropped the note onto the table next to Janus’ mug. He took a seat across from him, hiding his shaking hands in his lap, and watched with bated breath as he took the slip of paper and read it.

“‘How long did it take you to feel okay with Logan after CT?’ As in, feel okay dating a man?”

Virgil nodded and then, just for practice, signed yes.

“The short answer? Probably two years, and I was still hesitant going into the relationship. It took us a longer time to get to the comfort level we’re at now. You need to go at your pace, Virgil. You shouldn’t force anything.”

And then, as he tended to do when no one was there to fill the silence, he began to rant. This was also something Virgil was surprised he had come to enjoy, pulling up his feet so he could sit cross legged on the chair and setting his chin overtop his folded arms on the table.

“I think it’s ridiculous that our basic human rights are still up for debate,” Janus sighed, taking a long sip of his tea, “Soulmarks are more than enough proof that we have no control over who we love- not that we should need that kind of proof to be validated. But people are afraid of what they don’t know, so they portray us as monsters who need to be fixed.” He’d begun rubbing absentmindedly at his wrist and Virgil’s eyes tracked the movement, noticing for the first time the small compass that was just a couple shades darker than the man’s skin. It almost blended in, and he probably never would have noticed it, if the small needle in the center weren’t slowly rotating towards the stairs.

Logan entered the dining room from that direction, greeting his husband with a small kiss on the head and his foster child with a relaxed smile. He must have noticed Virgil’s occasional glance at the other’s wrist, wordlessly flipping over his own arm. His matching compass was pulling towards Janus’, an ever present symbol that they were meant to be together. Then, he patted his husband’s shoulder, going to get the coffee his husband always made for him.

“You’re not broken, Virgil,” Janus murmured. Virgil’s head shot up, surprised at his bluntness, “You’re not. And if anyone tells you differently, they’ll have to deal with me,” He said firmly as he took a long sip.

“No threatening, Janus!”

Virgil snorted into his fist, grinning as Janus winked at him and said, “Sorry, Logan,” into his mug.

“Incorrigible.” Logan sighed as he exited the kitchen with his coffee, dropping into the seat between the two. “And happy birthday, Virgil. Would you like to choose what we have for breakfast, or would you like us to decide?”

That was something they’d learned about him quickly; he had awful choice paralysis. Choosing between two choices was already anxiety inducing, but a variety of things, like having to narrow it down to one food item? Lethal. Virgil quickly pointed to Logan, who chuckled.

“French toast, then?”

Virgil nodded.

“I’ll get started on that in a moment. Janus, do you have his gift?”

“It’s in the living room, let me go get it.”

And that got his heart racing. ‘Gifts’ weren’t good things. They were leverage, blackmail, with a promise of a ‘returned favor’ in the near future. Virgil didn’t like things held against him like that. What if they gave him a present, and then demanded he pay them back for it the moment things weren’t peachy? Who was he kidding, he was in the honeymoon phase of this new foster family. It would take a month, like it did with the others, and then they’d find something about him that they hated and they’d force him to change it and he wouldn’t be able to refuse because they gave him food and shelter and above all, a gift on his birthday, and he would owe them a debt and he was stuck and-

“Virgil? What are five orange things you can see?”

His head popped up- when had he grabbed his hair like that?- and he noticed how heavily he was breathing. His foster parents were looking at him in concern, not pity, but legitimate concern for his well being (wack), Janus holding his hands behind his back. It was Logan that had spoken.

“Five orange things you can see, Virgil. You can just point.”

Don’t disappoint them more, his mind screamed, so he pointed at the far wall, near the entryway.

“The bridge on the calendar picture, very good. What else?”

Point through the pass through window into the kitchen.

“The sponge, well done. Three more.”

In front of Janus’ empty seat.

“The letters on the mug-”

Quick point to the book shelf in the living room.

“-and the book on my shelf. Last one?”

It took Virgil a longer moment before he found a cup of pens on the small coffee table behind the sofa, gesturing to the orange capped pen amongst the others.

“Wonderful. Are you feeling a bit better now?”

He didn’t respond, choosing to track Janus’ movements as he sat back into his chair, adjusting his hands so they were on his lap, most likely holding the gift he was hiding. Logan leaned against the couch as his husband spoke.

“Kid, I need you to understand something, alright? You don’t owe us anything. We want to give you a gift because it’s your birthday, and we want to celebrate you. This isn’t some favor that you have to return.”

How Janus understood Virgil’s distress, the younger could only guess. But his words of reassurance were enough to get Virgil to accept the wrapped package as he presented it with minimal shaking, for once demanding his brain relax. Neither of the men mentioned how delicately he unwrapped it, carefully tugging at the tape as to not rip the paper. Why risk it?

His mouth gaped when he saw the present for the first time, holding the box in a white knuckled grip.

“We were told yours was taken from you and never returned, and figured that you needed a new one,” Logan said.

It was the first new thing Virgil had ever gotten. His clothes were from thrift stores or hand downs, his school supplies consisted of a found pencil and a ripped binder from the group home’s storage, forget ever having his own computer or video games or…

“This is a phone!”

“That it is.” Janus was smiling, taking a sip of his now lukewarm tea.

“I can’t- You can’t just- I don’t-”

“We can, and we did. You’re seventeen, you kind of need a phone just for everyday life. And unless you give us a reason not to trust you with it, we have no worries.”

Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t-

Janus slid the tissue box across the table, but Virgil elected to ignore it, refusing to take his eyes off the box in his hands.

“Thank you,” he barely choked out, “Thank you so much.”

“You’re very welcome, Virgil,” Logan responded for the both of them, returning back to the kitchen nonchalantly as if he hadn’t just given Virgil more than he’d ever gotten in his entire life combined. “I’m going to start on breakfast.”

“I can help you set it up. Then you can download some music… maybe contact the soulmate of yours again.” Janus switched chairs so he was next to Virgil, careful not to touch him, and Virgil couldn’t help grinning blindingly up at him.

It would only be after breakfast that Virgil would realize that he’d spoken. It would be a longer journey until he’d be able to talk again effortlessly, but he was a step closer.

Part 4 HERE!

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emospritelet · 3 years

Text

Twisted Fate - chapter 28/28

Last time, Belle made up with her father, and Gold and Neal had a heart to heart. After all the crap I've put these idiots through, I'm pleased to say that they get their HEA. This is it :)

[AO3]

Gold waited for Neal to call Emma, pacing nervously in the hallway as he did so. He tried not to listen to the one-sided conversation, the ‘okay’, the ‘yeah, I know’, and the ‘I guess we’ll see’. Despite their hug, and the tears that had been shed, Neal still sounded cautious. He supposed that was only to be expected; Neal had taken less than a day to consider the matter, and there were tests to be done before paternity could be confirmed, after all. Gold had been honest when he said the outcome didn’t matter to him, but after decades of thinking his father hadn’t even known of his existence, it would matter to Neal. How could it not?

He was pleased that Neal had agreed to come to brunch, and to invite Emma and Henry along with him. It was unlikely that Henry would be told at this stage, but there would be time for that. Neal was willing to talk to him, and to let him get to know his family. All things considered, it was a more positive outcome than he had anticipated. He was trying not to think about how Neal might react if the test came back negative.

The muffled sound of talking ceased in the lounge, and Neal entered the hallway, closing the lounge door behind him and shoving his phone in his pocket.

“Uh - they’re gonna meet us there,” he said, and Gold nodded.

“Right.”

“They’re not far,” added Neal. “We took Henry to the bookshop this morning, and I thought, since I was in the area - well, I thought I may as well stop by.”

“I’m glad you did,” said Gold sincerely, and Neal hesitated only briefly before nodding.

“Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

The walk to the diner was made in relative silence, Neal’s hands shoved in his pockets as he sauntered along with his head down, seemingly lost in thought. Gold wanted to speak to him, but held back, feeling awkward and unsure of what to say. It was a relief to get to the diner and see Belle seated at one of the tables in the window, a book held open in front of her, pressed flat by the fingers of her right hand, with her left gently rocking Gideon’s stroller as she read. She looked up as they entered the diner, and her face broke into a beautiful smile that made him want to propose there and then. He pressed his lips together and told himself to bloody well wait until he wasn’t an emotional wreck.

“Hey!” she said, reaching out to touch his arm before squeezing Neal’s hand. Neal sent her a lopsided grin.

“Hey there, Mom,” he said, and she giggled, her eyes sparkling.

“Okay, that’s a little weird, not gonna lie.”

“You’re telling me,” he muttered, but he winked at her.

“Are you joining us for brunch?” she asked.

“Yeah, I asked Emma and Henry to come too.”

“Oh, great!” Belle looked from him to Gold and back again. “Does - does that mean..?”

“It means we’re having brunch,” said Gold easily. “And that Neal and I have agreed to take a test and get some answers.”

“Oh. Well, that sounds like a good idea.”

“Yeah, it’s - well, I guess we have to start somewhere, right?” said Neal, scratching the back of his head and pulling a face. Belle closed her book.

“And what better place to start than with cinnamon pastries and good coffee?” she said, and Neal chuckled.

“Wow, you really did become a mom.”

“Loving it so far,” she said, and patted the seat next to her. “Come on, sit down. They do the best Eggs Benedict here. And the pancakes are awesome.”

“One order of pancakes here,” said Neal immediately, taking a menu from her. “Emma’ll probably have the eggs, though.”

“Why don’t I get some drinks?” asked Gold. “Belle? Tea?”

“Iced, please.”

He nodded, smiling, and raised a hand to attract the attention of the waitress. One step at a time.

Their drinks arrived shortly before the rest of the family, Henry running ahead of his mother with a wide grin on his face, interrupting the conversation just as Gold was tentatively suggesting that they might want to visit Storybrooke one day.

“Hey Mr Gold!” said Henry excitedly. “Hey, Belle! I got a new book! It’s about a princess and a dark wizard!”

He waved a hard-backed book in the air, almost knocking Belle’s iced tea over, and she put a hand over the glass as Emma rolled her eyes with a sigh.

“It sounds wonderful,” said Gold, shooting Belle an amused look. “You can read some of it to me after we’ve eaten, if you like.”

“Cool! Can I have pancakes?”

“Take a look and see what you want on ‘em,” said Neal, and Henry flopped into one of the chairs and took the menu from Belle.

“Wow, they have different kinds!”

“I’ll take that menu after you, kid,” said Emma, sliding into the seat between him and Neal. Gold noticed her give Neal’s leg a reassuring squeeze and receive a pat on her hand in return.

“Dad, did you see these waffles?” Henry held up the menu. “They have strawberries and cream!”

“Yeah, they look good, huh?” said Neal. “Did you make a choice yet?”

“Not yet.” Henry bent his head over the menu again, chewing his lip, and Neal and Emma shared a glance.

“Henry,” said Neal. “How would you feel about going up to visit Storybrooke, in Maine?”

“What’s in Storybrooke?” asked Henry curiously, looking up.

“Belle used to live there,” said Neal. “And Mr Gold has a house there. A big one. He says we could stay over for the weekend with him and Belle sometime.”

“There’s a cabin, too,” said Gold. “It’s by a lake in the woods. Plenty of space to play.”

“Ooh! Can we have a barbecue?” asked Henry excitedly, and Gold laughed.

“Yes, we could do that,” he said. “Did you decide what you want on your pancakes?”

Henry wrinkled his nose.

“Actually, the waffles look really good,” he said. “Can I get one of those?”

“You can have whatever you like,” said Gold. “That goes for everyone. This is my treat.”

“That’s really nice of you,” said Emma.

“It’s been some time since I was able to treat anyone,” said Gold, catching her eye. “Looks as though I have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

Emma held his gaze, and nodded.

“You’re here now,” she said. “That counts for something.”

“Yeah,” said Neal quietly. “It counts for a lot.”

He too held Gold’s eye for a moment before turning to help Henry with his brunch choices, and Gold felt something loosen inside his chest, a sense of something that was almost relief beginning to spread through him. He glanced at Belle, and she was smiling at him, a soft look in her eyes that made him want to crawl across the table and kiss her. It was going to be alright. Everything was going to be alright.

Two years later

It was a bright and pleasant day in early May when Gold’s Cadillac pulled up outside the pink Victorian on the outskirts of Storybrooke. A U-Haul van was already there, Neal in dark jeans and a blue cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up, opening the back to reveal stacked cardboard boxes. Belle got out of the car, turning her face up to the sun with a sigh of pleasure as she stretched. It felt good to be back in Storybrooke at last, although she had loved the Boston apartment that had been their home for the past couple of years. Her studies were done, Gideon had just turned two, and they had decided to move back to Storybrooke permanently.

“God, someone open the damn door, I gotta go!”

Emma had climbed out of the U-Haul, almost waddling to the path, her hand on her swollen belly. She and Neal were due to have their second child in three weeks, and she had been grumbling about her discomfort for the past two. Gold followed her with his swift, limping stride, reaching the porch before her and fishing out his keys to unlock the door. She headed for the stairs immediately, not looking back, and Belle grinned, remembering her own frequent bathroom trips at that late stage of pregnancy.

“Here, you want a hand with the kids?”

Neal appeared at her side, grinning widely, and Belle smiled back.

“Could you get the stroller out?” she asked. “I can get Gideon.”

“I’ll get him.”

Gold had reappeared, pocketing the front door keys, and leaned in to kiss her with a smile before heading around to the other side to un-clip Gideon from his car seat.

“Here we are, Gid,” he said easily, lifting him out. “Welcome to your new home.”

Belle smiled as Gideon looked around, supremely unconcerned at the news. They had visited Storybrooke a number of times over the past two years, though not since before Christmas. She was looking forward to spending their next Christmas in the house with all their family, including Emma and Neal’s new little one. Though she could have done without the ‘Grandma’ title Henry had cheerfully given her.

Neal had taken out the stroller and unfolded the frame, and Gold put Gideon down, ruffling his hair absently.

“Guess I’ll start taking the boxes,” said Neal.

“I’ll help,” chirped Henry, appearing at his side.

“Don’t lift any of the heavy ones, leave those for your dad,” said Belle, as they headed for the van.

She turned back, watching as Gold reached into the rear of the car to un-clip the seat carrying their new baby daughter. Florence had been born in early April, and Gold was besotted with her. She stared up at him with wide, dark eyes, her head covered with soft brown hair.

“Here we go, my princess,” he said softly, a wide grin on his face, and Belle smiled as he clipped the seat into the stroller and closed the door.

“I’ll take her in and get her changed,” she said. “She’s probably due a feed, too. Would you warm the milk?”

“Of course.”

Gold scooped up the bag containing Florence’s baby things and hurried towards the house. Belle shook her head as he disappeared through the door, wondering where he got his energy after a restless night and a long drive with two small children. Gideon hurtled up the path after his father on sturdy legs.

“Gid, slow down!” she called.

He looked around at her, still running, and tripped, hitting the path with a thump as his arms tried to break his fall. A wail went up, and Belle sighed.

“I’ll get him,” said Neal.

He shifted the box he was carrying into one arm and went to scoop up his little brother. Gideon wrapped his arms around Neal’s neck, still crying, and Neal shushed him, bouncing him in the crook of his arm.

“Hey little guy,” he said soothingly. “You’ll be okay. See what happens when you don’t listen to your momma?”

Gideon calmed in his big brother’s arms, and Neal kissed his cheek.

“There, see?” he said. “All better. What do you say we go see Papa and get a nice cool drink in the kitchen?”

“Cookie?”

“If your Mom says so.” Neal glanced at Belle, who nodded, and he tickled Gideon’s ribs, making him squeal.

“Yeah, let’s get a cookie,” he said. “You’re getting bigger, huh? I bet you’ll eat as much as me at dinner.”

“Go see Ganny?” asked Gideon excitedly.

“Yeah, we’re going to Granny’s for dinner,” promised Neal. “You can show her your new book, how about that?”

“An’ cake!”

“Yeah, you can have some cake, too.”

Belle watched them head up the path, Neal balancing Gideon on his hip with the box in his other arm. She could hardly keep the smile from her face. In the past two years Neal, Emma and Henry had truly become family. At times she had caught Gold looking at his son with pride and something approaching disbelief on his face, as though he was half-expecting to wake up from a dream at any moment.

It hadn’t all been perfect, of course; there had been difficult moments as they went through therapy, and tears on all sides, but it had brought them closer together. Emma had even been talking about getting a job in Storybrooke sheriff’s office in a year or so, and Gold had offered to help Neal set up his own accountancy business. They hadn’t made a firm decision on the move yet, but Belle thought it was only a matter of time. Henry was certainly enthusiastic about the idea, and had already made friends with a couple of the local children. The thought of having her whole family in Storybrooke was wonderful.

She inhaled deeply, drawing the scent of cut grass and fresh flowers into her nose, and began pushing the stroller up the path towards their house. It was good to be home.

Belle licked her lips, fingers gripping the sturdy brass key and turning it. It moved smoothly in the lock, a satisfying click sounding, and she pushed open the door.

The library smelt of fresh paint and beeswax polish, the contractors having finished with the decorating the week before. The wooden floor and circulation desk had been polished to a high shine, empty stacks lined up, waiting to be filled with the collection of books that were stacked in cardboard boxes along the wall. Towards the back, there were folding tables and chairs, some sized for adults and some for small children. Belle intended to run some after-school and evening classes, and had already spoken to Mary Margaret about a collaboration with the school.

Stepping forward, her heels clicked on the polished wood, and she walked slowly towards the circulation desk, running a hand along the curved edge as she let her eyes roam around the space.

“Surveying your new domain?”

She smiled at the sound of Gold’s voice, and turned on her toes to face him. He was standing by the doorway, the spring sunshine silhouetting him through the glass, dust motes dancing in the air around him like fireflies.

“Where are the kids?” she asked, and he glanced over his shoulder.

“Emma and Neal are watching them,” he said. “I have you all to myself.”

He was grinning, and Belle shot him a level look.

“No hanky-panky in the library,” she said severely. “I want this place to be successful, and it won’t be if no one comes in because they’re worried about catching us in a compromising position.”

“You say that like it’s inevitable.”

“Do I need to remind you about David walking in on us in the pawn shop that time?”

Gold waved a hand.

“The sign very clearly said Closed,” he said. “It’s not my fault he can’t read.”

Belle giggled, and turned back to look over the library. He stepped forward to stand by her side, eyes flicking over the freshly-painted walls.

“It looks good,” he said. “All ready for the inimitable touch of Storybrooke’s wonderful new librarian.”

Belle slipped her arm through his, resting her head briefly on his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t have it if not for you,” she said. “I’m still amazed you got the Mayor to agree.”

“Well, exerting influence is what I do,” he said. “Besides, she’s an intelligent woman. She knew the building was only standing idle. A relatively small investment of town funds was worth it to provide a valuable public service.”

“I certainly intend to make the most of the opportunity,” said Belle, turning back to run her eyes over the empty stacks. “I thought next Saturday for the grand opening. I’ve asked Granny to prepare some party food, and I need to make some flyers, design some activities for the kids…”

“Get some books on the shelves?” he teased, and she grinned.

“I thought you, Neal and Henry could help with that tomorrow.”

“Hmm.” He looked amused. “I suppose Emma shouldn’t really be carrying books in her condition.”

“She can supervise,” said Belle. “I’ll give her a crash course in the Dewey Decimal system and she can hold a clipboard and boss us around.”

“Sounds like something she’d enjoy,” he said dryly.

“You like being teased by your daughter-in-law, admit it.”

“Certainly not.”

He was grinning, and she turned on her toes to face him, twining her arms around his neck as she leaned in to kiss him gently.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For believing in me.”

“Well, how could I not?” he said, his grin widening. “Miracles happen whenever you’re around.”

“Sweet-talker.”

“I never exaggerate,” he said gravely. “You should know that by now.”

“I know that I’m a very lucky woman,” she said, and he smiled.

“I’m the lucky one.”

The silvery chimes of the old music box played, and Gold crooned a low lullaby as he rocked his baby daughter in his arms. There was a faint sound of laughter and conversation from down in the kitchen, but Florence barely stirred as Gold kissed her forehead and laid her in the crib.

“Sleep well, my darling,” he whispered.

He took a step back, turning to the music box and winding the key to ensure the tune continued to play while she settled into sleep. The music box had sat in the nursery in Boston, playing its tinkling tune first to Gideon, and then to Florence. He was pleased to be returning it to Storybrooke, where he had first acquired it, and where he had painstakingly worked to restore it over the long months when he and Belle were trying to rebuild what was broken between them.

“Is she asleep?”

Belle was leaning in the doorway, and he looked up with a smile.

“Out like a light,” he said. “What about Gideon?”

“Fell asleep before I finished the story,” she said, and he smiled and held out a hand to her.

“Care to dance, Mrs Gold?”

She stepped forward with a smile, taking his hand as the other crept around her waist and pulled her close. He breathed in, pulling the scent of her in through his nose and sighing it out, and Belle let out a tiny noise of contentment.

“I’m so happy I met you, Alexander Gold,” she said.

“So am I,” he murmured. “I got a second chance with you, Belle. A second chance at life. I swear to you, I don’t want to miss a second of it.”

Belle raised her head, shaking her hair back off her shoulders.

“You won’t,” she said decidedly. “We’re going to have an amazing life together.”

“It’s already more than I could ever have dreamed of,” he said sincerely. “I have a beautiful wife who gave me two incredible children. I have my son back in my life, and a daughter-in-law, and soon I’ll have two grandchildren.”

“More family than you know what to do with,” she teased, and he chuckled.

“Oh, I think I could stand to have more,” he said, grinning, and Belle swatted his arm.

“Give me a year or two and we’ll see,” she said, and Gold laughed.

“Deal.”

Her smile grew, and she rested her head on his shoulder. The music tinkled on, and he held her close, feeling the warmth of her body against his as they moved in time. Life was beautiful.

#fic: twisted fate #rumbelle fic #my fic #rumbelle

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vannahfanfics · 3 years

Text

Heavenly River

Category: Friendship Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo

Hey, everyone! It’s my pleasure to share my story for Written in the Stars: A BKDK Tanabata zine!

Izuku held his hand flat over his brows as he stepped outside, shielding his eyes from the intensity of the sun burning in the azure sky. It was a cloudless day, so there was no solace from the bright sun rays spearing down from the heavens. However, there was a pleasant breeze to cool the hot, humid July air; it ruffled Izuku’s tousled pine-green hair and the fabric of his dark seaweed-colored yukata. He adjusted the emerald-hued sash around his waist, more to fidget than to actually fix it, and then pulled out his cell phone to check his notifications. He brightened when he saw a text from Katsuki, who had agreed to come with him to this year’s Tanabata festival.

Almost there, loser. You’d better be ready, or I’m leaving without you.

Izuku chuckled under his breath before shooting his friend a quick text to confirm that he was indeed ready and waiting for his friend to arrive, then stowed his phone back in his pocket. He slid his hands in the pockets of his yukata as he stood on the landing of his mother’s apartment complex. She had hung kuzukago on either side of the door; the white basket-like arrangements of paper strips swayed gently in the breeze, beseeching the winds for blessings of tidiness and thriftiness.

The neighbor to the right had hung kinchaku patterned with pretty floral paper; they’d fallen under hard times since the husband had been laid off from his job. Izuku whispered out a quick prayer on their behalf, wishing them improved fortunes and good luck. Their other neighbor had hung several chains of paper cranes in their windows, as their grandmother had recently fallen ill with pneumonia. Izuku had recently heard she was on the mend, and he hoped that this information was still true. She was a lovely lady who always brought Izuku’s mother homemade cookies when she visited, so Izuku hoped she would recover and be discharged from the hospital soon. Along the underside of the balcony, fukinagashi streamers swayed in the breeze with their colorful tails ruffling along the wind like Orihime’s fabled weavings.

People need wishes more than ever, Izuku thought as he leaned against the metal railing framing the walkway and looked out to the street below. Though All for One and Tomura Shigaraki had finally been defeated, the scars of their reign of carnage were still evident even months later. Across the street, they were still rebuilding the apartment complex that had been utterly destroyed in a fire; bits and pieces of the charred shell were piled in the brown grass to be collected by the garbage trucks later. Hope was still fragile in the community, so this Tanabata festival could hopefully restore faith and positivity in people.

“Oiiiii! Nerd! Stop starin’ off into space and get the fuck down here!”

Izuku glanced down to see Katsuki standing on the sidewalk. He was wearing that scowl Izuku had come to know as an odd symbol of affection, and his hands were buried into the pockets of his maroon yukata. Izuku called down to him in greeting and then took off in a trot, hopping down the steps and rounding the corner to join him on the sidewalk. Katsuki’s vermilion eyes burned in the harsh summer sun, but they were still less fierce than Izuku had known them a little over a year ago.

“Yer mom ain’t comin’?” Katsuki questioned as they set off in a leisurely walk down the sidewalk, subconsciously matching each other’s strides.

“No,” Izuku confirmed with a shake of his head. “She went the other day, so she’s spending the day making yakitori and takoyaki for dinner! If your family doesn’t have plans, Kacchan, you’re more than welcome to come by after and eat with us!”

Katsuki tilted his head to the side, an expression of consideration on his face.

“My folks somehow got roped into workin’ today, so I might take you up on that. Sure as hell beats cookin’ for myself.”

Izuku couldn’t help the happy smile that appeared on his lips; they hadn’t hung out for summer vacation very much due to their respective training regimens, so Izuku was delighted that he would not only be able to attend the last day of the festival with Katsuki but also have him over for dinner. “Wait, though, they aren’t doing the paper boat ceremony until midnight.”

“That’s right! I was thinking that we would spend the day enjoying the festival, go home for dinner, and then go back to do the paper boat ceremony. I know that’s a little past your bedtime, though, Kacchan,” he grinned teasingly and elbowed his friend in the ribs. “Will you be able to handle it?”

“Who the hell do ya think you’re talkin’ to?” Katsuki cried indignantly, jostling Izuku’s shoulder with his own. “O’course I can handle it! Damn nerd, where do ya get off thinkin’ you can insult me like that?”

Izuku laughed as Katsuki flung his muscular arm around his shoulders and jerked him against his side to grind his fist into the top of Izuku’s head. It was a good thing that his hair had always been unruly anyway, because Katsuki couldn’t muss it up too much. Izuku laughed airily when Katsuki shoved him away. The blond buried his hands back into his pockets with a snort, looking away at the large fukinagashi the city had suspended from the light poles. The large ball of yellow, orange, and white flowers hung from the streetlamps, the sunlight catching on the rustling streamers to cast playful shadows along the ground as the pieces curled and fluttered.

“Do you know what you’re going to wish for?” Katsuki asked him after several minutes of silent walking. This caught Izuku by surprise, and he turned to blink at him with wide emerald eyes. Katsuki was still staring out at the road, eyes lidded as he watched the cars trundle by.

“Actually, no,” he said and rubbed the back of his neck while he looked up at the clear blue sky. My goal is to be the number-one hero, but… for some reason, I don’t feel like wishing for that, he thought with a small frown. He’d been wrestling with it leading up to the event, and here it was the first day of the festival— he had to make a decision at some point. “I’ll figure it out when I get there!” He laughed nonchalantly and then looked back at Katsuki. “What about you?”

“I don’t know either.” Katsuki’s voice was flat, and Izuku could tell that he was thinking hard about it. I guess he wants his wish to be important… After all they had been through, Izuku could understand that. They’d endured so much together and grown up so fast. Smiling wanly, Izuku gently bumped his shoulder with Katsuki’s, prompting the blond to look at him with raised eyebrows.

“Don’t worry, Kacchan. We’ll figure it out!”

Katsuki blinked at him, then turned away with a small “tch.” However, Izuku could see that the minute tension had left his shoulders and the stoniness had eased out of his expression.

It was a short walk to the shrine where the festival was held. The street leading up to the shrine was laden with the handcrafted paper ornaments strung from the oak trees that framed the path. On either side of the cobblestone walkway, local vendors had set up their wares; the savory scent of yakisoba floated on the air, making Izuku’s mouth water though he’d just eaten breakfast not too long ago. There were vendors selling handmade ornaments, the pair of them walking past the hairpin maker who came every year, their stall a huge hit with the local girls. Izuku spotted several of them already decorating the ornate updos some of the festival goers chose to wear that night, the hair pins adding just that much more to the look. In the corner, a small troupe of stage actors were recounting the story of Orihime and Hikoboshi for an enthralled crowd.

“Wow, look at the crowd— and everyone looks so happy, too,” Izuku marveled. It seemed that the fair bit of hope the festival offered had drawn many people out of their homes, and he was relieved to see most of them wearing genuine smiles.

“Well, it’s been a shitty few months,” Katsuki shrugged. “They’re gonna latch onto anything positive that comes their way.” Izuku supposed that was true, but it still made him happy for the civilians. They’d all endured a lot— they deserved to celebrate a festival, to wish for mundane things instead of seeing tomorrow.

What did he want to wish for, though?

They walked to the end of the small street, where long fronds of bamboo framed the entrance to the shrine. Paper strips hung from their dainty branches, colored rectangles that swayed among the bright green leaves. The wishes of hundreds were imbued in those simple tanzaku— everything from pleas for academic success to wishes for love to grand hopes for world peace. Beneath the sprawling bamboo were small circular tables, where the colorful bits of paper sat beneath glass paperweights. They waited in a short line to walk up to the table; when Izuku picked up the pen and grabbed a blue strip of paper, he hesitated a moment while he debated what to write on the strip.

Out of the corners of his eyes, he could see Katsuki silently debating as well. It was strange, their mental debate. After everything they’d done, everything they’d seen, did they feel invincible? Is that why they had nothing to wish for? Or perhaps there was so much they wanted to see the world become and so much they wanted to do themselves, there were infinite possibilities to wish for now. Izuku smiled wanly and looked down at the blank rectangular strip of paper, the canvas to paint a wish of goodwill. He twirled the pen around in his hand, trying to think of what he wanted to wish for most in the world right now.

Finally, it dawned on him. He hunched down over the table to neatly scrawl on the tanzaku: A world where people’s wishes can come true.

Katsuki was still writing as Izuku stepped aside and walked to the bamboo fronds. He stood on his tiptoes to use the small loops of string to tie it on an empty bit of the plant, suspending it among hundreds of other wishes. He stepped back to admire the bit of blue fluttering among the rainbow of colors, while Katsuki passed by him to hang his wish beside his.

“What did you wish for, Kacchan?”

“Idiot,” Katsuki huffed as he turned around to walk back. “If you say it out loud, it won’t come true! I’ll tell ya after midnight, maybe.” Izuku blushed sheepishly at that; he’d quite forgotten that bit of superstition. He didn’t know if Katsuki actually believed it or was simply giving him a hard time, but it really didn’t matter.

They enjoyed the small festival for the rest of the afternoon, starting with the play, since it was starting over as they came out from the depths of the path. They sat with their legs tucked underneath them on comfy cushions (among a bunch of little kids, Katsuki was eager to grouse about) and watched the rendition of the love story. Izuku had always found it kind of sad that Orihime and Hikoboshi were only permitted to meet one day out of every year, but he also marveled that there was a love so strong that not even three hundred and sixty-four days of separation could lessen it. At the end of the play, they joined the actors in singing the traditional song— well, Izuku did. Katsuki would rather drop dead than sing, especially in front of a bunch of elementary-schoolers.

After the play, they stopped at the yakisoba stand for lunch. Izuku swirled the fried noodles around with his chopsticks to scoop bits of pork and cabbage, then spooned them into his mouth. As he slurped up the noodles, Katsuki glanced at him out of his peripheral vision.

“It’s almost strange,” he remarked. Izuku raised an eyebrow at him, and Katsuki looked down into his half-eaten yakisoba with pinkening cheeks. “Going back to normal after, you know… everything.” Izuku swallowed his noodles, looking at Katsuki with widening eyes. Though they were better friends now, he’d never grow used to these melancholic moods Katsuki drifted into. Katsuki’s red eyes were lidded while he pushed the noodles around his plate, pulsing with a serious sadness so unlike his usual explosive personality.

“Yeah,” Izuku agreed quietly. He found his own appetite waning, so he pushed the plate of noodles away and leaned his arms on the counter. “But… You can’t hang onto the past forever. At some point, you have to let the darkness fall behind you and walk toward the sun.”

“Tch. What are you, a fucking poet?” Katsuki snorted, but as always, his words were in direct contradiction to the small smile curling over his lips. Katsuki gathered up a large chunk of the yakisoba and then continued contemplatively with his mouth full, “Towards the sun, huh?”

Izuku smiled, then pulled his plate back toward him to finish it. He wouldn’t want to insult the chef that made the delicious meal, after all.

After finishing lunch, the two of them headed to Izuku’s house. They joined his mother in the kitchen to help her prepare dinner. Katsuki worked on dicing chicken breast into small cubes to skewer, while Izuku prepared the batter for the takoyaki. While they worked, his mother regaled Katsuki with stories of Tanabata festivals past— particularly her favorite tale of Izuku wishing to be like All Might every single year leading up to his acceptance at U.A. Izuku hid his bright red face in the refrigerator while pretending to look for the octopus tentacles, while Katsuki just guffawed about what a groupie he was.

The scent of frying batter and grilling chicken filled the kitchen as the sun sank lower and lower in the sky. Izuku’s mother had begun singing the song, and Izuku had taken it up as well, annoying Katsuki with their repeated trills of the tune:

“The bamboo leaves rustle, shaking away in the eaves.

The stars twinkle on the gold and silver grains of sand.

The five-color paper strips I have written.

The stars twinkle, they watch us from heaven.”

Katsuki’s lips couldn’t curl into a deeper scowl as Izuku waltzed around him, poking him in the cheek with a leftover octopus tentacle. Katsuki snatched it away and slapped him lightly across the cheek with it, leaving a slimy mark on Izuku’s skin.

“Oi! You sing that song one more goddamn time, I’m gonna fry you into a takoyaki ball!” Katsuki threatened while gesturing wildly with the floppy tentacle. Izuku and his mother just laughed, quite used to Katsuki’s angry outbursts. Katsuki nursed his irritation with a melon soda, clenching the can in one hand while flipping the chicken grilling in the skillet with the other.

It was about seven in the evening by the time the three of them gathered around the kōtatsu table with the spread of food. His mother turned on the television to watch the annual specials— which were just more dramatizations of the traditional story— while the two boys tore into the food with relish. Katsuki had always praised Inko’s cooking skills like the foodie he was, and though he’d probably never admit it aloud, he loved her takoyaki. He plucked ball after ball from the plate to pile them into his mouth until his cheeks bulged like a chipmunk’s.

“The hell you laughin’ at?” he grumbled when Izuku burst into laughter. Izuku just shook his head and used his teeth to slide a piece of the sauce-soaked, tender chicken from the skewer in his hand. He would have laughed if someone told him a year ago that he’d be sitting at the kōtatsu with Katsuki enjoying the Tanabata festival, even more so to be told they were exchanging friendly banter. The realization made a joyful smile spread over Izuku’s face, one that didn’t miss Katsuki’s attention.

“Oi. What are you thinking about?” Katsuki asked, the scowl morphing into a curious look. Izuku’s smile just widened, and he reached out to pluck up one of the takoyaki balls with his chopsticks.

“I’m just thinking about how nice this is, Kacchan. My mom doesn’t remember this, but,” he said, dropping his voice while his mother cried tearfully at the separation of Orihime and Hikoboshi playing on the screen, “A few years ago, I didn’t wish to be like All Might. I wished for us to be friends.”

Katsuki’s cheeks flushed a bright pink as he released a choking noise. He covered his blush with a broad hand, and he averted his gaze. Izuku chuckled at his shy reaction and took the opportunity to steal another takoyaki ball.

“Damn nerd,” Katsuki huffed with undeniable affection that made Izuku’s heart warm. “You can’t just say shit like that, you know. Now stop stealing my fucking takoyaki. Don’t think I didn’t notice. We may be friends, but I’ll still break your arm.”

They watched the special programs until about eleven, then set off again back to the shrine to participate in the paper boat ceremony. This time, the crowd had gathered at the nearby river, which babbled along another pathway leading to the small shrine. Dew clung to the hem of Izuku’s yukata as he walked on the edge of the cobblestone path where the grass grew. He and Katsuki retrieved their wishes from the bamboo branches, then took one of the prepared paper boats to place the wishes inside. Afterward, they set off to find a nice place to set them adrift.

They sat down on the edge of the bank to wait for the clock to strike midnight. Izuku held the fragile paper boat in his lap while he eased off his sandals so he could dip his toes in the cool water. Katsuki sat next to him, cross-legged and watching the water current swirl in the concrete canal. It was a far cry from the Heavenly River from the story, but Izuku could imagine its beauty with the way the starlight played over the babbling water.

“You know, we’re kind of like Orihime and Hikoboshi,” Izuku said after a while. Katsuki looked at him like he’d absolutely lost his mind, which made Izuku flush and hurriedly explain, “I-I just mean that at the beginning it felt like… You were on the other side of the river from me, Kacchan.” This made the blond settle down, so Izuku continued with a wan smile. “It felt like you were miles ahead, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t catch up… But little by little, I did, and now we’re on the same side of the river. I guess. Sorry. That was a weird metaphor,” he laughed nervously, playing with the edges of the paper boat.

“It was fucking weird,” Katsuki sniffed, then looked out to the water. “I get what you mean, though.” His voice was soft, a rare hint of gentleness that Izuku still couldn’t believe was sometimes directed toward him. “Just make sure you don’t fall back to the other side of the river, dumbass,” Katsuki said after a second, elbowing him gently in the arm.

“Hehe, I won’t,” Izuku chuckled and elbowed him back.

Then, fireworks lit up the moonlit sky, indicating that it had turned twelve. Izuku and Katsuki crawled to the bank to gently push the paper boats into the water. They watched them drift along the current, joined by hundreds of other little sailboats. Then, Izuku jumped to his feet while tugging eagerly on Katsuki’s arm.

“Come on!”

He ignored Katsuki’s confused sputters of protest as he dragged him up the bank to the walkway overlooking the river, which was lined by red railings. Izuku gripped the railing, searching for their two boats drifting alongside one another, and then pointed them out with a smile. The moon bathed them in a white glow, making them almost luminescent in the brilliant light. The light also played over the water to make it seem like they drifted on rivers of glittering diamond.

“Hey… What did you wish for?” Katsuki asked him suddenly, and Izuku turned to look at him with a soft smile.

“A world where people’s wishes could come true.”

Katsuki raised his eyebrows. Under the pale moonlight, the pink hue that rose to his cheeks was rosy pale. Katsuki bit down on his bottom lip, but that didn’t suppress the little chuckles that bubbled out of his throat.

“Me too.”

Izuku’s smile brightened, and then he turned to look out at the water. It was full of paper boats now, all glowing in the white light streaming down from the cloudless sky. He felt Katsuki nudge him, because of course he couldn’t let the moment pass without another jab.

“What a waste though, ‘cuz it’s my wish that’s gonna come true, nerd,” he teased. Izuku had to laugh and shake his head. Only Katsuki could make even traditional wishes during Tanabata into a competition. He supposed it didn’t matter though, if only one of their wishes were granted or both— either way, it meant happiness and peace for those who needed it most. That’s all Izuku could ever want. He watched those boats drift down the heavenly river, where hopefully the gods would pluck them up on the distant shore. They would read those wishes, and fulfill their hopes.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#bkdk #dkbk #bakudeku #dekubaku #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugou #my hero academia #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero

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iamyoursinblog · 4 years

Text

Green-Eyed Monster

Pairing: Im Jaebeom x Reader

Genre: smut

Word Count: 4.8 k

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LIST

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POV Jaebeom

She will most likely kill me, Jaebeom thought as he headed for the practice room. He was almost two hours late due to the fact that he was busy recording the demo for the new album. He called you several times, but you didn't answer. It seems he will have to beg on his knees for your forgiveness. Perhaps you will agree if he makes amends in the bedrooms, he smiled at the thought. A wave of excitement went through him, from the colorful pictures of what he wanted to do with you. Calmly Jaebeom, he muttered under his breath, smiling broadly.

He opened the door to the hall and froze on the threshold, unable to cross it. You were lying on the floor next to Jackson. Your head was on his shoulder and your hand was on his stomach. It seemed that something inside him snapped. Every time he found you in Jackson's arms or sleeping in his lap, everything inside him boiled with jealousy. But today was the last straw. Seeing you asleep hugging him made everything inside him burn with rage. He closed the door and turned on his heels and headed back to his studio.

Going back to the studio, he hit the chair with his foot, "Fuck!" he growled, unable to calm down. He knew how you treated to him, and the fact that rather there is an excuse for what he saw. But jealousy consumed him completely, and there was no room for any excuse!

Pov You

You smiled when you smelled Jaebeom. Your hand was on his stomach, and despite the fact that the smell was familiar, the sensations were completely wrong... You opened your eyes and pulled back when you saw that you were lying on Jackson's shoulder. He opened his eyes and smiled sleepily at you "Woke up?"

"What are you doing here?" You asked in disbelief

“I came to see how your practice was going, but I saw that you were sleeping on the floor. So I decided that my shoulder is much more comfortable than floor. But I didn't even notice how fell asleep."

"Damn it!" you swore when you looked at the clock on the wall. You quickly took your phone out of your bag and saw a few missed ones from Jaebeom. Probably he called to say that he would stay in the studio. "See you," you said, quickly getting up from the floor. You grabbed your bag and ran to the exit. You went to his studio, but the thought that most likely he hadn't eaten yet made you stop and go downstairs. Taking drinks and food, you went to his studio.

"Hi darling!" you said happily. You put the bag on the table and went to hug him.

He shoved your hand away, turning to the display "I'm busy, did you want something?" he asked in a cold tone.

“You didn't come to me, and I decided that you were busy in the studio, so I came to you myself. I brought you a snack, I don't think you had lunch today" you tried to sound calm, most likely he was annoyed by the stress of the new album. "I missed you"

"I came, but you were busy" he practically spat out the last word in disgust, forcing everything inside you to turn into ice. "You probably didn't miss me that much while you slept hugging Jackson."

“Jaebeom, I don’t… this is not what you thought. I thought it was you" you just couldn't believe that he was jealous of you for Jackson.

"Yes, really, we're fucking twins with Jackson!" he snorted displeased

“He came when I was already asleep. And due to the fact that you use the same perfume, I thought in a dream that it was you who came”

“You can go home or wherever you want. I have no time for your stupid excuses, I'm too busy for this shit!" he said, turning in your direction, his gaze was merciless "You can take that too" he pointed to the bag you brought before turning back again. "Give it to Jackson, he must be very hungry after playing the role of your pillow" every word was felt like a searing slap in the face. You stood and looked at him with your mouth open. This time, his jealousy crossed all boundaries. You swallowed, clearing the lump in your throat caused by the tears running down your cheeks.

"If that's what you want, then ..."

"Yes, that's exactly what I want!" He interrupted you without even letting you finish.

"Okay" you practically whispered, unable to cope with the pain inside you. You left his studio, closing the door behind you. You slowly walked down the hallway, everything inside you trembled. This was the first time you saw Jaebeom like that. You sometimes had quarrels, but they all stopped within 5 minutes, ending with hugs. Going down to the parking lot, you got into the car giving vent to tears. You headed towards the house, not wanting someone to see you now. You practically did not see the road, because of tears that did not stop flowing down your cheeks.

Going home, you took a sleeping pill from the bedside table and drank a few pills. Now you didn't want to feel all this pain and emptiness inside you. You went to bed and hoped that you could fall asleep as soon as possible. You closed your eyes falling into the darkness.

"Get out!" Jaebeom's scream made you sit up abruptly in bed. A dream, it was a dream. Although he didn’t say that word, his last phrase meant just that. You sighed when you saw it was the middle of the night. What? Have you slept for almost 9 hours? Why did you think that you closed your eyes 5 minutes ago ... you took a deep breath and got out of bed, trudged into the bathroom. You washed up and changed into your pajamas. It looks like there was alcohol somewhere in this house, you muttered as you left the bathroom. You turned on the dim kitchen light and stopped.

Jaebeom was sitting on the living room floor with his back to the sofa. In his hands was a glass of amber liquid. You were right, there is alcohol in your house. You went to the coffee table and took a bottle of whiskey, pouring it into your glass.. You went back to the kitchen and sat at the kitchen table, looking at the wall, it was too painful for you to look at Jaebeom.

“I was wrong,” Jaebeom said breaking the silence.

You turned your head the other way as tears ran down your cheeks.

"Please forgive me!"

"What's the point? It doesn't matter how many times I tell you that I love only you. It doesn't matter how many times I tell you that the guys I talk to are just a friends and you shouldn't be jealous because I don't see anyone in them but a good friends. No matter how many times I say, I will prove to you that my heart belongs only to you. It's all doesn't matter if you don't trust me. What is the point of continuing all this if you only believe in what you yourself want to believe" You got up leaving your glass of whiskey untouched on the table

"____, ..."

"Enough... You hurt me enough for today to continue this conversation. Let's talk another time" you took your phone and car keys and left the apartment. You hoped that the further you go now from him, the less your heart will ache. You just drove through the empty city, trying not to think about anything. I came to my senses when there was only darkness around you. You continued to drive along a dark road, not knowing where you were at all. You turned on the GPS and gasped. Seosan - and how did you manage to be here. How many hours did you drive without stopping, you looked around in surprise when the city lights finally began to appear.

You parked at the nearest good hotel and went inside. Trying not to pay attention to how they looked at you at the reception desk, you quickly paid for the room and went to the elevator. All this time, your phone never stopped ringing. The number of missed calls from Jaebeom reached a hundred. You didn’t even know that he could call you so much, you snorted as you disconnected the phone. Turning to the mirror, you laughed for the first time that day. Your hair was disheveled, mascara flowed from tears, and you refused to comment your short blue pajamas with little yellow ducklings at all. Your appearance clearly did not correspond to the level of the hotel, you were glad that you were allowed in at all. Although this is probably due to the car in which you arrived. No wonder they looked at you like that while you were filling out the paperwork. Spending a couple of days here would be a good idea, you whispered watching the sunrise through the huge window as you entered your room.

POV Jaebeom

He was sitting on the floor next to a nearly empty bottle. What a jerk you are, Jaebeom, he muttered, throwing his head back onto the couch. How can he fix it? And will you allow him to fix something at all? He was ready to kill himself for the cruel words that he said to you. But at that moment he could not stop splashing out on you all those emotions that raged inside him. The problem was not even you, you were not the person to whom he wanted to express all this. He knew you had nothing to do with Jackson. But the problem was Jackson, who tried to hide his feelings for you in "friendship." He guessed that Jackson fell in love with you as soon as he saw, and Jackson's every look at you, only confirmed this guess.

You never gave rise to jealousy, although he didn't always like the fact that he almost always found you in the arms of one of the members. But he never felt jealous of others. Even if today he saw you sleeping on Mark or BamBam, with whom you spent almost all your free time, he would just come up and lie down next to you, throwing his leg over you to listen to your sweet grumbling. He's lucky he didn't meet Jackson after a fight with you.

He tried to call you again, but your phone was still disconnected. Where are you? He could barely reach the bedroom, staggering violently. He hugged the blanket that smelled of you, falling asleep. Shut up, he practically yelled at the phone when someone called him.

"Where are you?" asked Mark when he picked up the phone

“At _____'s home” he muttered barely audibly

“Um… are you okay? What's with the voice? " asked Mark and he heard the woried in his voice

"Hangover"

"Oh, that's it ... yesterday with ______, you had a party, but we were not invited!" laughed Mark. Everything inside him clenched in pain as all the emotions that had been muted by the alcohol hit him with renewed vigor. "Are you crying?" asked Mark in surprise

"I fucked up, hyung ... seriously fucked up!" tears choked him

“I'll be soon” Mark hung up and Jaebeom closed his eyes again

He didn't even notice how quickly the time passed when the doorbell rang. He barely got out of bed and trudged off to open the door.

“You look shitty,” Mark said when he saw him.

“And hello to you.” Jaebeom headed toward the kitchen. He sat down at the table, resting his head in his palms.

"Where is ______?" asked Mark, putting hangover soup on the table

“She's gone. Why am I such an idiot? " he lifted his head to meet Mark's gaze.

"What the fuck happened between the two of you?" asked Mark, sitting down at the table

“It seems we broke up because of me” he lowered his head to the table as tears filled his eyes

"WHAT?! How is this possible? Don't fucking tell me you're jealous of her for Jackson? ”Mark asked and Jaebeom looked up at him in shock.

"Have you spoken to ____?"

“No, but I saw that she slept in the gym with Jackson yesterday. So is that the reason? Seriously?"

"I know!" he raised his voice as he stood up from his chair. “I said so many cruel words to her. I understood that she was not the reason for my anger, but I could not stop myself” he shook his head, remembering your barely audible voice due to tears

"Gosh, what a fucking fuck!" groaned Mark. “Why are you even jealous of her, knowing how much she loves you. She looks at you as if only you exist in this world! You've never been jealous of her for us, so why is Jackson an exception? "

"You know why!" Jaebeom looked angrily at Mark, banged his fist hard on the table

"You know as well as I do that he would never ..."

“And yet he does!” he interrupted Mark. "Every time he does something like that, covering it all up with friendship"

“If I had come earlier, ______ would have slept on me. Would you react the same way? "

"You know yourself that this means not the same to you as it does to Jackson!" he practically yelled at Mark.

“Even if you're so angry now, remembering this, I’m afraid to imagine what you said yesterday.” Mark looked at him furiously. “Whatever she does, you deserve it!”

“I know it without you.” His jaw tightened. “How can I get her back? _______ took her phone and car keys and just left."

"I'm sorry, but I don't think you deserve to have her come back to you."

"I know..." he answered barely audibly. He knew without Mark that he did not deserve your forgiveness. But what else can he do? He's not ready to just give up and let you go. "But I won't survive without her..." his voice trembled from the tears he tried to hold back

"Moron," Mark growled as he stood up. Mark walked over to the coffee table and picked up your laptop, then returned to the table in the kitchen. He opened the laptop, carefully examining something on the screen. “She clearly doesn't want to see you,” Mark muttered, and taking a notebook and pen, he quickly wrote something down. Tearing off the sheet, Mark handed it to him “This is the last time her phone was on the network. I'm sure this is the address of the hotel. If you hurt her even more, I will kill you myself! " Mark got up and walked towards the exit, leaving him alone.

He looked at the note and his eyes widened - Seosan ?! You ran far away from him ... He squeezed the note in his hands and got up and walked into the room. He picked up the phone and dialed your number again... still no connection. He fell onto the bed, covering his face with his hands. It wonder how you will react if he comes? It would be better if you yelled at him and were angry. Most of all he was afraid now to see indifference in your eyes. He got out of bed and went to the exit. He stopped and looked at your shoes. He went back to the bedroom, taking out your bag, he folded underwear, jeans and a shirt. He understood that it is unlikely that you still walk in your pajamas that are too open, but he wanted to have at least some excuse for his arrival. He lifted your shoes and put them in a bag and left the apartment. He went down to the parking lot, it's good that he arrived by car. Putting the bag on the passenger seat, he quickly started the car and drove to the address that he asked in the GPS. The road took a long time. The further he went, the more worried about you, realizing that you were drove along the night road. He breathed a sigh of relief when he drove up to the hotel and saw your car in the parking lot. Choosing a place farther away, he got out of the car, taking the bag with your clothes. He walked over to your car and smiled when he saw a parking ticket with your room number. He quickly checked in by taking a room opposite yours. He went up to the floor, knocking on your door, he was greeted by silence. He left the bag in his room and went down to the restaurant. He hoped you were there, but unfortunately you weren't there. He sat down at the bar, from where he could see the entrance through the large windows.

Several hours passed and it began to get dark outside, but you never showed up. He got up and staggered towards the elevator. Having risen to his floor, he sat down next to your door, so he will definitely not skip you.

"Jaebeom ..." he heard your voice and looked up.

"Hi" he smiled broadly at you

"How did you get here?"

"You are so beautiful," he leaned his cheek on his knee, examining you. He chuckled, he couldn't think of anything but your beauty.

"Jaebeom, what are you doing here?" you sighed

"I brought you clothes"

“I thought that the turned off phone said about my unwillingness to talk to you,” you walked past him, approaching your door. He grabbed your wrist, stopping you. Clutching your wrist, he rose to his feet. Everything inside him was on fire, he held out with the last of his strength. He headed towards his door, dragging you after him. You wrenched your hand away and turned back to your door. He walked up to you and hugged you on your shoulders, again went to his door. You pushed him away "Enough" you turned your back on him. He grabbed you by the shirt and pulled you back into the room. "What the fuck are you doing!" you forcefully threw back his hand when you found yourself in the narrow corridor of his room.

He leaned against the wall, his legs practically did not support him. Tears choked him without giving him the opportunity to say anything. He put his hands on his knees as tears streamed down his cheeks. He took a deep breath, regaining his composure. He grabbed your hand again and walked on. He lifted the bag off the floor and shoved it into your hand.

The bag fell to the floor as you pulled the hand out of his grip again. “I have clothes,” you growled as you took a step back from him.

"Very beautiful. Have you bought it? " he smiled broadly, he could not control his emotions. Laughter, tears, hysterics, angry, sad all mixed up inside him.

"Jackson brought it to me" you practically spit those words out. Your words made everything inside him fill with pure fury. He grabbed you by the arm and threw you violently onto the bed when he completely lost control. You got out of bed shoving him in the chest when he tried to stop you by the shoulders. "What's wrong with you?!" you yelled at him. He tried to hug you, but you kept pushing him out "Stop this show"

He squeezed your hands tightly and took a few steps, pressing you to the bed. "Jaebeom!" you growled when he squeezed you tightly, immobilizing you. Tears burst from him. Everything was so confused in his head. He did not understand what he was doing. “Sorry, I shouldn't have said these cruel words to you…” He couldn't stop. He cried so hard that your shirt got wet from his tears. You lay motionless and did not even try to escape. “Sorry,” he said barely audibly, continuing to cry heavily. “We can start all over again, huh? Let's just start all over again.” He couldn't breathe, all the pain he had caused you fell upon him.

"What's happened with you?"

"Shhhh" he covered your mouth with his hand. He took you by the collar, squeezing it tightly. "Why?" he looked at you angrily, "Why did you say that?" the anger at what you said about Jackson is back.

"Are you kidding me, Jaebeom !?" for some reason he felt funny from your look, although his laughter was more like a hysteria. You pushed him hard, forcing him to get out of bed, backing away. He sat down on the bed bench opposite the bed.

His laughter mingled with tears. He took a deep breath to calm. He lifted his head to meet your ferocious gaze. For some reason, your anger in your eyes soothed him. He sighed, shaking his head. "Where are you going?" he asked when you got out of bed and picked up the bag from the floor.

“Thanks for the clothes,” you hissed through clenched teeth.

He got up and taking you by the hand led you to the bed bench where he was sitting. He sat you down, taking the bag out of your hands, throwing it forcefully across the room. He sat down next to you, running his hand over his face. He turned to face you, but you sat motionless, staring at the wall in front of you. He approached you, taking your hand. "Do you want to break up with me?" he leaned forward, wanting to kiss you. You strayed away from him, which caused him to practically lie on top of you in order to be able to leave a kiss on your neck. Your head dangled in the air, giving you space to stray from his kiss. He squeezed your hair, giving you no more chance to tilt your head back, and leaved a kiss on your lips. You tried to push your head away from his kiss by pushing him away with your hands.

"You don't trust me, why should we be together?" you asked and he covered your mouth with his hand. He shook his head, moving you completely onto the bed bench.

"No ... it isn't ..." He rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as tears filled his eyes again. “I trust you, it's just that Jackson is in love with you. And I can't stop getting mad at him when he touches you.” His voice was no louder than a whisper. “Love for you turns me into a pathetic madman. Please... forgive me.” He left gentle kisses on your face. He removed his hand and kissed you.

"You moron!" you said, begin crying. Your tears broke his heart to pieces. "What a moron you are!" you hit him in the shoulder

"Forgive me. Please, sweetheart, forgive me.” He hugged you tightly. He groaned in relief when you hugged him back. “Forgive me...” he kept whispering in your ear, over and over. "I love you so much! Forgive me!" he kissed you. The gentle kisses became more seductive each time. A wave of desire swept over him as yours tongues entwined. All the emotions that were inside burst out. His fingers dug into your body, wanting more. He moaned when you squeezed his ass with your hand and forced him to rub against your crotch. Your actions each time aroused him to the limit. He ripped your shirt open, causing the buttons to fly across the floor around you. He got off the bed bench with you in his arms, heading for the bed. Taking off your shirt, he threw it on the floor before putting you on the bed. He took off his shirt, throwing it on the floor. He moaned when you left a kiss on his belly. You unbuttoned his pants, making him go crazy with the sight. He ran his hand through your hair, lifting your head up. He kissed you, lying on top of you.

He pulled back to dispose of the remnants of yours clothes before returning to bed. He pushed hard at you, unable to wait even a second any longer. Your hips went up taking him completely. He groaned when you started squeezing his dick. “Baby…" he groaned. He turned, placing you on top of him. He rested his hand on the bed, and the second hugged you around the waist. Your sexy look drove him crazy, making him growl with impatience. You put your palms on his shoulders, continuing to move your hips. He had to control himself so as not to come right now. Every time you were on top, it was torture for him. Your moans filled the room as you continued to ride his dick. He squeezed your waist, making the thrusts deeper. You pushed him back, forcing him to lie down. Your gaze gave him goosebumps as you bit your lip and looked at him with such lust. You turned your back on him and sat down on his dick again. "Oh shit," he growled at the sight of your ass moving on his cock. It is unlikely that he will live to the end. He squeezed your ass, lowering you harder on his dick. His hips rose to meet your movements. He sat down, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing against your back. Leaning you forward, he knelt down, starting to fuck you harder. His fingers dug into your thighs while he fucked you. He took your hands, leading them behind your back. He kept you in the air while he hard fuck you.

He stopped, letting go of you when he realized how cruel he was now. You got to your knees leaning your back on his chest as he sat on his knees. Taking his dick with your hand, you directed him inward again, sitting on top of his knees. You put your head on his shoulder with a groan. He ran his hands over your wet body, bringing his hand down to your clit. He could hardly restrain himself from cumming. He covered your clit, fingering it, making you cum first. You stopped when your thighs trembled violently. You groaned loudly as he started to move again. He also started to cum when you squeezed his dick hard because of orgasm. He fell forward, holding your thighs as he continued to push hard, lost in his pleasure. He put his hands on the bed, slowly moving inside you. Your body trembled underneath him, and your pussy tightened around his dick, sending heat through his body. He fell down next to you on the bed pulling you into his arms when he finally left you.

“I love you,” he whispered, leaving kisses on your lips.

"Why didn't you tell me about Jackson, and especially how you feel about it?"

“Because you friendly with everyone. I didn't want you to feel awkward"

“You could take care of it when you yourself would be calm about it, and not when everything inside you was burning with jealousy,” you angrily looked at him.

“Something went wrong in my plan,” he laughed softly, for which he received a blow in the shoulder. "Ouch ..." he groaned

"Don't even think about whining to me here now."

"Yes, my mistress," he muttered, making you giggle.

"I hope you didn't get into a fight with Jackson?" you looked at him with wide eyes and he laughed

“No, I was lucky and I didn’t meet him. Although I can’t guarantee that it wouldn’t have happened if I had seen him then.” He shook his head.

"Do you understand how stupid this is?"

He said nothing, his emotions were still too strong.

“Forgive me,” you said, and he looked at you in surprise. “For saying that Jackson brought me clothes,” you laughed, “Although I did not expect you to lose your temper so much. I was scared even for a moment, ”you chuckled.

"Sorry, I couldn't control myself." Everything inside him squeezed into a tight knot.

“You and I are talking about everything, why did you keep silent about it? Why did you suffer alone? I promise you, if you doubt me again, I will leave without even looking back in your direction!" you said, and a coldness passed through his body from your gaze. He realized that now in your words there was not even a hint of a joke.

“I don't know why I was acting so stupid. But I promise you that this will never happen again. Never!"

"I believe you, so please don't make me regret it later."

"I swear. I love you"

"I love you too"

He squeezed you in his arms, stroking your hair until you both fell asleep, exhausted by yours emotions.

_______________________

More Im Jaebeom x Reader

Chance meeting (smut)

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LIST (BTS & GOT7)

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#got7 #jaebeom x reader #jaebeom x you #jaebeom x y/n #got7 x reader #got7 x you #got7 x y/n #got7 jb #got7 jay b #jay b #lim jaebeom #im jaebeom #got7 jaebeom #kpop

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procrastinatorimagines · 4 years

Text

Family

Fandom: Chicago PD / One Chicago

Character/s: Antonio Dawson x Reader

Warning/s: kidnapping

Word Count: 4,407

Request: Hi there, can I get an Antonio Dawson x reader, please? Along the lines of Antonio and reader work together and started dating a while after his divorce and his kids love you (more than their own mum who has been mistreating them esp. since she started dating some guy). Laura's bf is in some shady stuff and Diego gets kidnapped (or hurt) and when they find him, he screams for him mummy and daddy and Laura moves forward but he pushes past her and runs for reader & Antonio. TQ x

Note: this got away from me a little but I never liked Laura, not after the way she treated Sylvie, and I just really miss Antonio, so here you go!

“You can’t move it like that,” Diego told you, watching as you picked up your knight tentatively, glancing up at him before you played each move to see his reaction, usually he just laughed.

“Can’t I?” You replied, looking back at the board and the piece in your hand, hovering over the square you thought you could put it on. No matter how many times you played against Diego, you never even got close to winning.

“No, you definitely can’t,” he informed you with a smile, shifting in his seat so that he could lean over the chess board and take a better look at what you were doing.

“Huh,” you clicked your tongue, thinking, “well, what if I do this?” You moved your piece back to where it had been, moving it one space to the side and two up. He nodded and you grinned triumphantly, a look which only lasted a few seconds.

“I mean you can, but then I can do this,” he took your piece with ease and added it to his growing pile as you glanced back at the measly two pawns you’d managed to take from him, or, more accurately, that he had sacrificed. “See?” He made a show of it when he plucked the piece from the board and you heard Eva laughing behind you.

“Funny homework?” You asked, looking back to where she sat at the dining table, chewing her pen with books spread around her.

“Oh yeah, it’s my homework that I’m laughing at,” she joked, earning a small cushion tossed in her general direction. “Hey!” She yelled as it hit her shoulder, throwing it straight back as she laughed, “I’m just saying, how many games has it been now? I’d say quit while you’re ahead, but maybe you should quit before you’re too far behind?”

“Y/N’s already too far behind,” Diego added and you look between the two of them with fake shock and hurt.

“Antonio!” You called, putting on a whiny voice as you leaned back to look through the kitchen door at your boyfriend who was facing away from you tooking dinner, “Antonio your kids are bullying me!”

“Constructive critism!” Diego yelled back as his dad headed into the main room, wooden spoon in hand as he pointed it at the both of them.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he started and Diego and Eva tried to suppress their smiles, but instead of even pretending to come to your defense he said, “does she deserve it?” You blinked at him as the siblings burst out laughing and Antonio winked at you.

“Traitor,” you gasped, but soon all of you were laughing as Antonio told you dinner was about to be ready. You and Diego paused your game and you helped the kids set the table.

You and Antonio had been dating since soon after his divorce, but it had been a while before he introduced you properly to his children. Technically, you’d already met both of them, having been brought into Intelligence around the same time as Adam. After you’d started seeing each other you’d kept it on the down-low, and you’d never dreamed of pushing Antonio about it, he was going through a messy divorce and he had to put his kids first.

It was a rocky start, but when Antonio had found out that Laura had not only already introduced her new boyfriend to Eva and Diego, but had left them with him on multiple occasions, he didn’t see the point in keeping your relationship a secret anymore.

They’d warmed up to you pretty quickly, even if Laura never had, and setting the table with them now, as you did whenever you came over for dinner with them, you fell in sync like it’d always been that way. Previously, you’d have left after dinner, but you’d started spending the night with the kids around more and more, often going so far as to spend the weekend with them.

The kids were happy about, much to yours and Antonio’s delight, especially when you’d started making pancakes for them Saturday mornings, it’d become tradition. When Diego had first mentioned it to Laura, however, it hadn’t gone down well. Apparently, she didn’t like a woman she barely knew watching her kids, and she definitely didn’t like Antonio pointing out that her boyfriend, Todd, had been doing the same thing, and at least he’d introduced you to her first.

It had put a bit of a strain on your relationship for a while, you remembered as Antonio brought out dinner, but sat here now, you couldn’t have been more glad that you’d both decided to stick it out.

“It looks amazing,” you told him as he took his seat, the smell of rice and chicken in the air as you all filled up your plates.

“Yeah, thanks dad,” both children chorused their thanks as they tucked in, Diego bulldozing food into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten all day. Eva rolled her eyes at her younger brother, but you just smiled, appreciating the normalcy of a family dinner like this, with the man you loved. You weren’t their mother, you knew that, but these kinds of nights made you realise just how much you loved them.

“Oh dad after this-” Diego started through a mouth full of food, stopping and swallowing it with a pointed look from Antonio, “sorry, but after this you should watch me finish beating Y/N at chess yet again.”

Antonio chuckled and you shook your head. “I’d love to, but don’t you have homework to finish first?” Diego shook his head, mouth full of food again.

“Finished it,” he said at last, Antonio glancing at you quickly to check if he was telling the truth, you gave him a slight nod. “Yeah we had less today because it’s the science fair on Monday,” he explained and Antonio did his best to hide the look on his face that showed he’d forgotten.

“Right of course, that came by quickly,” he said, “what time was that again?” Chances were, he’d be stuck on at work. You knew how much Antonio loved his job, but it was things like this that made him miss the steady hours of the State’s Attourney’s office.

“It’s okay, I know you have to work, mom and Todd said they could make it,” Diego tried to reassure him but you could tell he was disappointed.

“I’ll try,” Antonio promised anyway, most likely remembering the parent teacher night that Laura had brought Todd to without telling him, causing several of the teachers to think he was, in fact, Diego’s actual dad.

“Are you going to come Y/N?” Diego turned to you hopefully, “if you can, of course.” God you could never say no to that face, not that you’d want to right now, it warmed your heart that Diego was including you in this, that he actually wanted you there.

“I’ll try my best, wouldn’t want to miss it,” you replied, patting his shoulder as he smiled at you. Eva looked at you with a look of appreciation; no matter what she said, she was protective of her brother, and she’d been at the age where she actually knew what was going on throughout the divorce.

It had taken her much longer to warm up to you than her younger brother, mostly because of how attached to you he’d seemed to get, and she’d always worried you’d leave and hurt him, and her dad.

You finished the rest of dinner with relatively unimportant chatter, Eva explained her homework for the night and you offered to help her with it while Antonio asked for Diego’s help tidying up after dinner. You weren’t spending the entire weekend with them, you had to be back at your apartment for some maintenance work on Sunday, but you promised you’d still be making pancakes for them in the morning. Even though Eva protested that she was getting too grown up for funny shaped pancakes, that turned around very quickly when Antonio suggested she not eat them then.

The rest of the night went by happily, Diego beat you at chess, obviously, and by the time you’d helped Eva with her homework the kids had gone up to their respective rooms.

“I’m glad he wants you there,” Antonio said, unprompted as you snuggled up to him on the sofa to watch some mindless television before bed. You moved your head so that your chin was resting on his shoulder as you looked up at his face. He smiled as he looked back at you.

“Yeah?” You were too, but your mind had kept wandering to the fact that Laura was going to be there, obviously, she was his mother afterall, but you knew she wasn’t going to be happy to see you. It was Diego’s night, and you didn’t want to do anything to ruin it.

“Of course,” he replied, kissing you sweetly, “you’re family now if you hadn’t realised.” The way he was looking at you made you melt, so full of love as he put his arm around you, drawing you closer.

“I love you,” you told him, the only response you thought worthy of his statement.

“I love you too,” he kissed you on the head as you snuggled back into his side, how had you gotten so lucky?

Monday came by quickly, and mercifully you and Antonio had managed to head out early, having done all you could do on the case you were working until the morning. You were still going to be late to the fair, but Laura and Todd would already be there, and you knew Diego wouldn’t be disappointed, he’d just be glad you’d both managed to show.

While you knew you’d have to deal with Laura tonight, you hadn’t expected her to be waiting in the parking lot, practically marching over to the car before Antonio had even finished putting it into park. She made it to you just as you were climbing out the car, sharing a look of confusion with one another.

“Where is he?” She demanded, no greeting or politeness as she looked in the car and then back at Antonio.

“Who?” Antonio asked, just as confused as you were.

“What do you mean who? Diego, your son,” Laura snapped, clearly exasperated, concern covering her face.

“He’s supposed to be inside,” you told her, earning a deadly glare as she focused her attention back on Antonio, clearly not wanting you to have any input in this.

“Well he isn’t,” she replied. What did she mean? You were both late, and he had volunteered to set up before the parents arrived so he never should have even left the school.

“Okay, Laura, you need to take a breath and explain what the hell is going on,” Antonio said, his calm starting to slip, “why would we know where Diego is? We came straight from the district and as far as we knew, Diego was supposed to be inside.”

Laura swallowed hard, concern turning to fear, but she didn’t reply. You headed around to the other side of the car. “Laura,” you said with force, putting a hand on her shoulder to try and snap her out of it, “from the beginning.”

Antonio ran his hands through his hair, taking a deep breath as Laura explained what she knew. “I got here a little late, about five minutes, but when I got in his stall hadn’t been set up, I asked the teachers and they told me that his dad had picked him up straight after school and he hadn’t come back.”

“What? Laura I swear that wasn’t me, I’ve been at the district all day,” Antonio swore, looking back to the entrance of the school. You reached into the inside coat pocket of your jacket for your badge, having a dreadful feeling you were going to need it before too long.

“Then who took him?!” Laura practically yelled, earning looks from the other parents as they headed in to the fair. “Not again...” she mumbled as Antonio checked his phone for any missed calls, you and Laura doing the same before you headed inside.

Laura pointed you both in the direction of the teacher she had spoken with. “Mr Wright,” Antonio got his attention, pulling out his badge when he tried to tell him that he was busy talking to other parents at the minute.

“Is everything okay?” The man asked, excusing himself from the conversation. He was a bit of a younger teacher, you remembered Diego telling you that it was his first year, the old physics teacher retiring before Summer.

“Antonio Dawson,” he introduced himself quickly, “I’m looking for my son,” he told him, Wright looking to you before his eyes went to Laura, apparently clocking something as he looked back at Antonio.

“Your son?” He questioned and Antonio nodded. “No, no, Diego?”

“Yes, Diego, Diego Dawson,” Antonio said impatiently and the teacher, at least, looked equal parts confused and guilty.

“But his father picked him up,” Mr Wright tried, “I mean- he said he was his father.”

“And you took his word for it?” Laura demanded and Mr Wright looked to her puzzled.

“Well, yes, I mean I’d seen him with Diego before, and you Ms. Dawson, he came to the parents evening just last month, I had no reason to...” he trailed off, clearly apologetic as Antonio practically whirled on Laura.

“Todd?” You had to put your hand on his arm, reminding him that you were in a very public place and you were already drawing attention to yourselves.

“Why would he?-” She wondered, “that doesn’t make any sense, Todd wouldn’t do something like that.”

“Isn’t he supposed to be here tonight?” You realised, cutting in to what was clearly about to turn into a heated argument, Antonio already getting angry, and rightfully so, at the whole situation.

“Yeah, he said something came up so he couldn’t make it,” Laura said finally, “but he wouldn’t do anything to Diego,” you knew she was saying that more to herself than anyone else as you let Mr. Wright get back to the fair.

“’Something’? What is ‘something’ Laura?” Antonio demanded, getting his phone out to try and call Diego, but it told him that the line was disconnected.

“I don’t- I don’t know, he didn’t say!” She fumbled, trying to call Todd too.

Both their phones had been disconnected.

“This can’t have been him, whatever this is,” she tried to reason but neither you or Antonio looked a little convinced.

“Then how do you explain all of this?” He snapped back, barging past her towards the entrace, you hot on his heels as you dialed the only number that could help you now, Hank Voight’s.

Laura followed quickly, still trying to wrap her head around the whole situation as Antonio made her get into the back of the car. Laura tried Eva, but she didn’t pick up, so you decided to head back to the house, where she was supposed to be studying.

“Hey Serg, yeah we have a situation,” you filled him in on what had just happened as Antonio peeled out of the car park, barely acknowledging Laura as he drove, anger and worry making him grip the steering wheel until his knuckles went white.

Voight said he’d call the rest of the team as you put it on speaker, and you’d all meet at Antonio’s ASAP, this had become top priority now.

Kim and Adam had arrived first, Eva had been plugged into her laptop and missed the call, but she was okay. Antonio breathed a sigh of relief as he ran up the steps to meet his daughter at the door. The tears she had clearly tried to clear from her face told you she’d been at least partially filled in as the rest of Intelligence arrived.

“Everyone, gather around,” Voight called everyone into the living room as you took Antonio’s hand, giving it a squeeze for support as Voight continued, “Diego Dawson is our priority right now, we need to find him, so far all we know is Todd Richards, Laura’s boyfriend, was seen taking him out of school at around 4 claiming to be his father, so, where would he take Diego?”

“Wait, Todd did this?” Eva interrupted, listening from the other room as she walking.

“We think so,” Antonio told her honestly, “but we’re going to find him sweetie,” Laura went to comfort her daughter but Eva pulled back, barely even looking at her as she leans into Antonio. Laura turns to where they are stood, clearly hurt but not entirely surprised, still looking guilt about the fact that her boyfriend was most likely responsible.

Antonio hugged his daughter as you filled the rest of the unit in about what you knew about Todd, which wasn’t much honestly. “Okay, well what does Todd do for a living? Who are his friends?” Jay asked, mostly looking to Antonio and Laura.

“Er, construction, he runs a construction company, his friends are mostly his workers,” Laura informed you all.

“He working on anything at the moment?” Kev asked and Laura shrugged a little.

“Sort of,” she replied vaguely.

“What does that mean?” Antonio asked, sending a reluctant Eva out the room with a uniform while you all worked.

“He had a project in the works, but something was up with it, I think an investor pulled out, that might have been where he was supposed to be today,” Laura explained the best she could.

“So he didn’t have enough money? Or any?” You guessed as a map was passed to the unit so Laura could point out the spot.

“They were going under,” she admitted, pulling at a thread of her shirt subconsciously. If they were going under... they’d need money.

“Random?” Hailey guessed, saying what you were all thinking.

“But why? Why take my son?” Laura sounded so lost, but you knew why, and it had nothing to do with her. No doubt she’d told Todd all about her divorce, Antonio, the unit, he must have seen an opportunity to make real cash, but it was hardly very premeditated.

“Look, this was all quick, and so far seems pretty unplanned to me, so he won’t be at some unknown location, he’ll do somewhere familiar, somewhere he feels safe,” you voiced your theory as you stared at the map.

“If construction was halted he’s probably holed up there, it’s his home ground, he’ll be comfortable there and his crew are probably in on it too,” Vanessa continued as Laura sobbed.

Antonio was trying to hold it together Diego, and Eva, but you could tell this who situation was getting to be too much, Diego being snatched by Pulpo was bad enough, but by someone who was supposed to be trustworthy? You didn’t know what he would do to Todd when you found him, so you were going to make sure you were by his side, just in case.

“Well, whatever he was thinking it wasn’t smart, he hasn’t called to make demands yet and he had to know that cops look out for their own, taking a detective’s son is a deadly game,” Voight said.

“He’s desperate,” Antonio added, “might even be hesitating now he’s actually past the point of no return, wondering what’s going to happen to him if he makes that call.” Nothing good, that much you knew.

“So we head to the site, stake it out, if he’s there, we move in carefully, grab Diego, he’s not going to want to hurt him, he’s his only security in this situation,” Voight decided and Laura pointed with a shaky finger to the spot on the map where the construction site was.

Hailey got a quick call from the district, confirming that both Todd and Diego’s phones had last pinged within a mile or so of that location, it had to be where they were.

Laura tried to apologise as you all suited up to leave but Antonio didn’t want to hear it right now, they could talk about Todd when their son was safe. You’d been pretty new to the unit when Diego had been taken by Pulpo, but you remembered the grief Laura had given him about it around the divorce, knew how Antonio had blamed himself. Diego had to be okay, you thought, strapping on your vest and double checking your gun, he had to be.

You didn’t say much to Antonio during the drive, but you kept your hand in his all the way, reminding him that you were there with him no matter what. Laura and Eva had insisted on coming, so they’d been positioned with some uniforms outside the perimeter what was now being set up.

“Ready?” Voight asked, more to Antonio and even you than anyone else. You were trying to be as there for Antonio as you could be, and that meant staying calm and steady, but damn it if you weren’t scared for Diego, you loved that kid, you loved the family you were making with them, and you were terrified that something might go wrong.

“Le’ts get my son back,” Antonio addressed the unit, you were more than ready to risk their lives for one of their own, as were you, as you double checked your weapon yet again.

Before long you were moving stealthily into positions along the site, keeping your eyes out for movement, careful not to attract attention to yourselves. You ad Antonio stopped by a window, carefully looking in to assess the situation, signaling to the others when you spotted movement inside. Heat sensors put about 5 men in this building, the offices for the site it seemed, and one of the figures was definitely smaller than the others, Diego.

Hank positioned himself with you and Antonio by the main door, Diego looked to be in the back, but the order was still as few bullets as possible. Hailey and Jay had taken the back entrace and the others were ready to get anyone who managed to get away, but the look on Antonio’s face told you that that wouldn’t be a problem.

Voight signaled a three second countdown on his fingers as you gripped your gun tighter, your heart thumping in your ears as you tried to steady your breathing. Nothing could go wrong.

Antonio was more than happy to kick the door in when Voight got down to zero, “hit it,” he told the others over comms, and you were in. They’d got speedy approval from a judge before the op, but extenuating circumstances would have to be a good enough explanation as the door came off the hinges in splinters. Either the door wasn’t very strong, Antonio was very angry, or a little of both.

Needless to say, the men, who had clearly not thought this all the way through, were startled by your sudden entrace, most dropping any weapons they had pretty quickly when they saw your guns and badges. They tried to run, but quickly saw this wasn’t a fight they were going to win.

Todd tried to keep his gun up the longest, and honestly you thought that Antonio was hoping he’d do as much. Antonio disarmed the panicking man with ease, knocking him onto the ground and jamming his gun in his face.

“You thought you could take my kid!” He yelled, practically spitting on the man in anger. You took a step forward to stop him but Voight grabbed your arm lightly, stopping you. But you the second hit into his face with the back of Antonio’s gun, you were shoving past Voight and grabbing your boyfriend.

When Antonio tried to resist you said into his ear: “Diego’s here, he’s all that matters, don’t let him see you like this,” you pulled his gun from his hand carefully and he let you, standing up as Jay and Hailey cuffed Todd and the others.

You and Antonio ran to the back room as Voight was signalling an all clear. Pulling open the door you saw Diego sat on the floor, hands, feet and mouth covered in ducktape. Carefully, Antonio freed his son, who immediately rushed into his arms, shaking as his tears wet his father’s shoulder.

“Oh my boy, oh I got you, I’m so sorry, you’re okay,” Antonio soothed as you breathed a sigh of relief, not realising how tense you yourself had been at the situation.

“We got him,” you said into your comms, not being able to take your eyes off father and son being reunited. You headed back to drag out the perps as Antonio lifted Diego still in his arms, and carried him outside.

“Diego!” Eva and Laura were already running to him, Laura not even acknowledging Todd as she ran to her son. Antonio puts Diego down so he can see his family as you hauled the last of the kidnappers into squad cars.

Just as you shut the door you felt something slam into your back, nearly toppling over as you turned to see Diego wrapping his arms around you. You bent down so that you were at his level, glancing back to see a shocked looking Laura, arms still out slightly to catch him as he’d run past her to you.

Pulling Diego into a hug he let out a sob, Antonio and Eva heading over to where you both were. “You’re okay, I got you,” you whispered to him, trying not to look at Laura as you did. You felt a little guilty, sure, but he’d come to you, and you weren’t about to send him away, not when you loved him this much.

“Hey,” Antonio ruffled Diego’s hair as you stood up, wiping his tears with your thumb.

The four of you together, after the day you’d just had, made you start to well up a little as you blinked away tears, glad everyone was back together.

“Can we go home?” Diego asked and Antonio agreed, “you’re coming too right?”

“Always,” you told him, putting your arm around Eva as you took Antonio’s hand. Antonio put his hand on Diego’s shoulder, keeping him close as he led you all back to the car.

“Let’s go home,” Antonio agreed and despite all the time you’d spend at that house, for the first time, it really was your home, your family.

#antonio dawson #chicago pd #one chicago #antonio dawson imagine #chicago pd imagine #antonio dawson imagines #chicago pd imagines #antonio dawson one shot #chicago pd one shot #one chicago imagine #one chicago imagines #one chicago one shot #one shot

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btswishes · 4 years

Text

BTS: Reaction to their 16 year old sister not eating enough to lose weight.

A/N: This is something I don’t recommend anyone doing. Take it as experience from someone who was in that hole. No matter what anyone tells you, you are beautiful and gorgeous. You don’t have to look like anyone else because you are one of a kind. Stay like that. :)

Requested by: Anonymous

Request: “ Hello! Can you do a bts reaction to their 16 year old sister being insecure and not eating much to lose weight? Thank you💜 “

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Jin:

Jin will try to cook for you the best meals he can think of and find. He will make sure they are healthy and full of nutrients, that they are super tasty, filling and new. “These are all healthy, have plenty vegetables, so you don’t have to worry about anything. You are just 16, I was your age too thinking of stuff like that. Beauty standards are a lie sweetie, you are beautiful by being unique. We will start slow, eat as much as you can now and we will work our way up till you are comfortable. Oppa is with with you, since day one and till day 0.”

Min Yoongi:

Yoongi is one to observe quietly, but never late to react when the situation is important. And this one was of the highest priority to him, since it was about his darling sister. He would wait for your parents to leave the house and sit down next to you.

“Hey there. Are you hungry?” once you say no, he will comment how skinny you have gotten “ Look, I know what you are doing. I am not here to yell or get angry at you. It’s not your fault princess and don’t feel weak for not being able to control it. Things like these happen to the best of us, we are humans. It might be hard to ask for help or open up about it now, but you know I am here for you. “ he would pull out his car keys “How about we go get some milk tea and maybe a cookie or few if you are in the mood? You can get the drink only if you want to, no need to force yourself. If you want to getting something else, tell me. Big bro makes too much money and he can’t use it all up, so you have to help me out. Ok?”

Jung Hoseok:

Hoseok is a happy and go lucky boy. He has hard times ,but for the people around himself he wants to be that pill of happiness and motivation. Hobbi would pull you onto his lap and run his hand through your hair “How is my little princess doing? Is she happy? Does she need some love from her brother?” he would rub his head onto you “There, transferred some.Did you get it yet?” Hoseok won’t stop till you giggle “ There is that sweet voice I wanted to hear. What has you feeling like this my little angel? Ah, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel ready. We have all the time in the world, so take as much as you need.” his hand would pull your head onto his chest “You know, you were a picky eater since a little bean. I remember cutting myself, making characters out of your food. You seemed to eat it only like that. If you ever feel like you cant do something, come find me.I will always make it fun for the most beautiful and unique princess in the world. How about big bro makes you some fun snacks? We can eat them together and watch a good movie?”

Kim Namjoon:

Joon is one to do his research before engaging in a talk with you. He would look up all he can find about these situations and what the proper way to handle them would be. “ I got this snack today and I couldn’t finish it by myself. Would you like some?” your eyes scanned it fast and hesitated. It looked delicious but the thoughts were eating you up from the inside “The weather seems nice today, how about we go take a walk while you snack on this? Get in a bit of exercise.” those words hooked you and you agreed in seconds. The sun shined on your skin softly as you were genuinely enjoying the food “ Do you see that tree? It’s pretty isn’t it.” you agreed with your big brother “What if I told you that people don’t think it is.” your eyebrows frowned as you spoke “ But it’s too young to tell, I am sure when it grows more it will have beautiful flowers or fruits.” Namjoon knelt next to you, running his hand over your cheek “ The same way you are the only one who can see the true beauty the tree is hiding, I do too. You are my tiny little tree, I want to keep you safe and make sure you grow up strong. Don’t try to look like other plants.” his finger tapped your chest “You carry your own beauty right in here. You might not see it but with time you will be able to see what has been in front of my eyes. You might find it difficult right now, but reach out to me when you feel down, don’t do this to yourself. I am always here for my princess.”

Park Jimin:

Jimin is special in this situation. As someone with body-dysmorphia, he would notice your behavior fast. The same signs he showed, the same habits that took him ages to get rid off. He knows oh to well how fast one could fall into that abyss. Jimin wanted to stop this as soon as possible. After he notices things getting bad ,he would walk into your room with some food. When you lie to him about having eaten Jimin would drop the plate on the floor, tears pooling in his eyes. “B-brother?” His knees hitting the floor, hands gripping onto yours as his eyes look up at you “I know I should be your role model, I know oh too well. I failed myself once, I don’t want you to do the same. Please baby girl don’t look at the fashion trends or people that tell you looking one way is the norm.It’s NOT, it will never be. You are so young, so pretty and so smart. I don’t want you to be in the same dark hole I was in. You are worth so much more. It starts with eating less and less, then the regret hits, the fear, the anxiety. It eats you up my angel. I beg of you, don’t do it. Believe in me, let me help you. Please.” seeing your brother cry like this, hearing the words coming from the depths of his heart ,made you cry as you reached out for a piece of fruit he brought for you.

Kim Taehyung:

Tae likes to laugh, giggle make all kinds of jokes.But in this situation his mind just went blank with panic. He didnt know what to say or do, even though he wanted to immediately. His mind wandered for days until something came up in his mind. “Y/N, get dressed we are going out.” you didn’t know what was happening, but you followed your brother “Where are we going?”you skipped next to him ”To a fashion show.” and he was honest. There were all kinds of people there and you were amazed. The models walked passed you one by one. After it was all over ,Tae grabbed your hand and pulled you backstage. He looked at your shining eyes “What do you see honey?” “Diversity.” came out of your lips “Dark skin, light skin, mixed, curvy or skinny, tall or short, man or women. No one here is the same, but they are all beautiful. Just like you.”He waved at a woman that smiled back brightly and ran over “Hey Yana, this my little sister. The one I told you about.” the woman’s skin softly tinted as dark coffee, she was shining brighter than any diamond. Curves for days and a smile such as the stars. “Oh my I was about to say she is too pretty to be your sister. Want a cookie honey?” you hesitated, but Yana put it in your hand “You need to eat something sweetie there is more don’t even worry about it. You want they say thick thighs save lives.You need to eat to able to save. Come I will introduce you to everyone else.” They all looked different and beautiful, just like you.

Jungkook:

Jungkook comes off aggressive at times, but in this situation he would do what he things is best and ask his hyungs for help. He would want all the help he can get. Namjoon will gather info, Hobi, Jungkook and Tae would try to show you the beauty in everything. Jimin with his experience. Suga and Jin would be a tag duo. At the end of the day all 7 of them will be with you no matter what. “Hey, mind if I sit here?” Kookie would push you a bit to the side and plop himself next to you on the couch “ I know I sometimes don’t have much time to spend with you. I just want you to know that no matter what I will first and forever be your big brother. I don’t know if someone told you something, but the Jeon genes are too strong so people get jealous of our beauty and strength. My words sound out of the blue right now, but I hope you would remember them when you look in the mirror next time. It’s not just me that sees this, ask anyone from bangtan and they will agree with me. You look like this because all these features look the best on you and only my pretty little princess. You are my special little sister, when people finally notice how gorgeous and kind you are, I will have to beat them up.” his words made you giggle “I mean it! No boys even after 50!” Jungkook swung a punch in the air “Brother!”

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angelswithcigarettes · 3 years

Text

“A new try”

Summary: The team travels to Vegas for William Reid's funeral.

Series: The journey of finding a home [Part 5]

Series Summary: With getting Spencer on the team, Gideon gets him out of the hands of his abusive Father. He knows his team are the right people to show him the kindness of this world but even if he was supposed to be one of the greatest profiler ever seen he didn't expect Morgan to be the one that puts the most effort into it.

Warnings: Past Child Abuse, Past sexual Abuse, Self-harm, Eating Disorder

Relevant Tags: Autistic Spencer Reid

Word Count:7764

First Chapter:

[Please do yourself the favor and read the other parts first.]

"I am gonna see if everything is ready." Hotch announces and steps out of the room. The team had accompanied Spencer to Vegas after his father got into a car accident that the police believes was suicide while Spencer, after seeing despite everyone's protest crime scene as well as photos, is convinced it wasn't.

"You do that we will be right out." They are standing in Spencer's old room, Derek Rossi and Spencer dressed in black suits.

The funeral will start in less than an hour, his fathers best friend took care of it and by the amound of people that stepped by at the house alone this morning they realized how much they had underestimated William's network.

They had tried their best to keep Spencer away from all of that, the women of the team being downstairs, talking to family members while the whole team is disgusted by every single hand they shake, wondering if they had known what happened in this house all those years.

Right now Spencer's grandmother is downstairs together with his uncle and cousin and Morgan ties his tie and tries finding out how to help him through this.

They all do.

They all do and they all keep up the perfect surface of not exposing themselves over who was the cause of that accident.

The house is bright and modern, not like Morgan had expected it while Rossi knew how much money his father had, Morgan didn't and even Hotch was surprised when he saw the amount of money that was in the will.

A bit money and the house he had inherited to his wife the rest to Spencer who was not fazed at all by the number and just told the lawyer in front of him, while Hotch sat to his left, in case this would have been a more difficult situation and he needed legal advice, that this is only so much because people still buy child porn.

Hotch got the assumption that Spencer knew the lawyer of his father too. That they have a history together.

"Come on your grandmother is waiting for you downstairs." He doesn't react and just keeps playing with Morgan's sleeve. "Spencer please."

"No" He hits Morgan's hand that is laying on his thigh with his fist making the man pull it back.

"Don't hit me."

"I am not going." Spencer takes his hand up to Morgan's shoulder hitting him again and he moves back.

"Hey! Don't hit me. You hurt me." It did not actually hurt but sometimes it helps to just remind him. He knows Spencer doesn't mean to and just wants out of the situation he is in. "Spencer I know this is stressful but we need to get down. Your family is here and you can't avoid them."

"Stupid family." He hits his mattress multiple times. "Hate family"

"I know, but Emily and JJ and Garcia are all downstairs too and we will come with you." Rossi stays quiet letting Morgan handle this. "You won't be alone with them."

"Hate me"

"Don't say that."

"Hate me. Stupid family."

"I don't think they hate you either. JJ said that they are waiting to meet you."

"Hate me. Stupid family. Hate me."

"C'mon we can't change it. Every person has to go through this - besides you decided to fly down here." Morgan crosses his arms looking down on him and Rossi isn't sure if this tactic really helps but Spencer gets up on shaky legs and then walks past then into the hallway.

Morgan has to suppress the urge to have an arm around him anywhere they go since Spencer looks and walks like he will physically break down or faint any moment.

"Oh Spencer" His grandmother gets up from the seat approaching them and Emily rolls his eyes at Derek. She had told them multiple times not to crowd him when he gets down. "Look at you, you grew even more." He lets her touch him while his face doesn't show any emotion towards her. "Such a handsome young man." She rests her hands on his arms and smiles up to him. "I wish we would have met sooner under different circumstances."

"Mom" A man with black hair, a little bit taller than Spencer reminds her and when she let's go he steps in her place and pulls Spencer into a hug. "I am so sorry, kid." JJ can see Morgan being ready to step between them, analysing Spencer's body language for signs that he will want to get out but he just puts his head down on the mans shoulder for a moment while he is being hugged and then let's go to greet his cousin who just waves to him awkwardly the same way he always does.

The last time tbey met, his cousin was nine years old so Spencer didn't see him much in his youth.

"Spence you wanna eat something before we head over?" JJ asks gently pointing at the breakfast he didn't eat, she, Morgan and Rossi had spend the night with Spencer in the house while the others took hotel rooms.

They arrived yesterday under strong orders that if there is a case and no other team available they still have to work.

If everything works according to plan they fly back tomorrow morning and Morgan and Rossi had already decided on bringing Spencer's routines back being prepared for his disagreements.

"Have you not eaten yet, honey?" His grandmother asks. To their dismay Spencer starts hitting his thigh and Rossi motions for them to move back a little bit giving him his space. "Oh Spencer don't do that."

"Ma'am give him some space please."

"You don't have to eat it's okay." Morgan tries calming him. They don't need this right before the funeral.

"Oh he has been doing that ever since he was a child when he didn't get what he wants." His grandmother interferes again making the team roll their eyes internally. "Spencer stop it."

"Out now." Hotch speaks up in a voice they are all to familiar with. From the day Hotch found out about Spencer's past and about why he acts like he does, why he does things a certain way, he always had stood up for him. He would not tolerate any insults nor comments from local officers or others.

"You can't kick us out of here." Spencer's uncle speaks up.

"I can, out." If it was a different situation he might would have felt sympathy for him because he certainly doesn't act like his mother but for now he sees him as just another person ignoring Spencer's abuse over years. "Now"

"Stupid Family" Spencer repeats and Morgan has the feeling that for the first time he really understands what he means when he says that.

He means the stupid literally, as in the stipidy of his family the being oblivious when something is wrong, the not showing understanding or seeing signs.

Keep reading on Ao3:

#criminal minds #spencer reid #derek morgan #ao3 author #aaron hotchner #moreid #criminal minds fanfiction #david rossi #penelope garcia #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #cm #autistic spencer reid

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infernalshadowtheif · 3 years

Text

Synthetic Blood

After taking over her father's company, Lena Luthor spends her time trying to develop a safe man made synthetic blood for medical science and maybe for herself and her kind too of course. You see, Lena is technically human but she is also technically a vampire, well more of a half vampire that's more or less human except for her extra abilities and vitality. As she tries to develop a Blood substitute her brother Lex attempts to steer her away from the light and back down a dark path that has always beckoned her to walk down.

[Look, vampires are kinda cool and I've been meaning to finish this idea that I literally dreamed about last year so let me know if you guys like it, hate it, or have ideas for it yeah? I'll post it on Ao3 later.] Words: 3,036K 🙃

Lillian took the cold metal brush handle in her hand, making it up to her hair, and started to brush through the already smooth tresses of hair on Lena's head.

"On to more pressing matters, it seems we won't be hunting for a while, seeing that the humans are now more aware of our kind since your brother started his little war with the Kryptonians." The aimless brushing continued a bit rougher than before but not painful.

"How are we to feed then mother, how are you going to feed? I am obviously already prepared but I know you prefer straight from the source." There was a slight hesitation in the last stroke of the cold brush.

Lillian set it down slowly almost methodically as she turned away and towards the moonlit window behind them.

Lena looked after the older woman cautiously.

"Mother?" Wearily she stood from the vanity mirror and closer to Lillian’s side.

She received a click of a tongue as an answer before she sighed.

"I hated how it reeked on his body, your father I mean, I hated how the smell of artificial blood was always stuck to him, it reminded me of that awful white meat substitute that some humans love in place of real meat."

"Tofu mother," Lena added helpfully as Lillian sneered further at the window and crossed her arms over her chest in defiance.

"Yes, that was it. He always smelled of his fake blood, you already adopted his tendencies to not want to drink from the source of what we need to survive, which is fine but I’ll never understand it." She turned her head to Lena almost puzzled.

“Well mother I know that this situation will be harder but I’ll try and figure something out for us. I'm sure I can maybe synthesize something more to your preferences if need be."

Lillian wasn't the warmest parent compared to most others but after Lex went on with his blood-war with the aliens, she saw that Lena was more stable than she originally thought, especially compared to her son. So through great effort and shattered pride, she tried her best to bridge the gap between her and her daughter as best as she could, trying to make up for years of neglect and misplaced scorn.

With a defeated sigh Lillian finally turned to look at her youngest,

"Thank you, dear, I know you'll try no matter how many times I say I'll be fine. I just want you to use that brilliant brain of yours for more than just little old me, I'm content with the choices and endless amount of repenting I have waiting for me when it's time." Lillian never smiled at Lena, at least not often, especially as a child, but the one she gave her at that moment was the best one she'd ever seen.

“I think we all do mother. Thank you for taking care of me and letting me wait out the sun for today, I lost track of time again.” Lena lightly skims her thumb over the still healing blemish on her arm, if she were a full vampire like the rest of the Luthors in her family she would have lost it or simply turned to dust as her father did.

“Any time dear, this is still your home too, no matter what your brother claims.”

Lena almost cries, such simple words that her past self would have never dreamed of hearing from the woman before her, Lena simply nods in acknowledgment and heads back out to her car to get back to her apartment.

The drive back to National City is quiet, the long highway back lets her mind playback the hellish day she had, to say she’s dreading the minute she has to see the cities resident Super would be an understatement.

She saw me, I know she saw what I’m capable of. Or at least that I'm definitely NOT human.

Lena’s thoughts turn darker as she imagines the red-caped hero’s look of repulsion and utter hate when she does truly figure out that she’s a creature of the dark, or, at least half of one.

Her mind spirals further down the dark hole of fear of what she will do with her, so much so that she missed the new set of headlights quickly coming closer in her side-view mirror.

When it finally caught enough to slam into her back bumper she quickly snaps out of it and tries to keep her own car on the road and away from the sheer drop of the mountainside to her right.

“Fuck! Now, what!?” The vehicle sways again as the car behind her clashes into hers, she took one of her more pedestrian cars today so her usual horsepower she’d use to escape is severely lacking this time as another hit on her life is in motion again this week.

So much for going incognito.

The shattering of her rear window makes her jump, the side of her car slamming right into the metal railing, seeing the lack of ground on the other side has her heart drop right into her stomach as she tries to get control again.

Big nope to that.

Another pop was registered in Lena’s brain as she finally lost control of her car, her vision spinning just as quickly as the car itself.

“Fuckfuckfuck! I swear, I'm going to stake you myself when I deal with your pets, Lex!” Sweating out of panic, Lena decides that trying to outspeed them won’t happen while in her brick ford car, she figures that she just might have to use some of her power for this one.

Her car makes a sudden stop as the front end crashes through the metal railing at the edge of the road, she was lucky the car became wedged into the twisted metal otherwise she would have had a very unfortunate freefall over the cliff.

Dizzyingly, Lena pries her hands from the steering wheel, her death grip making her bones ache as she tried for her seatbelt next. The sound of car doors slamming shut jumpstarts her heartrate, flooding her system with adrenaline.

The shadows in the headlights get closer, the sound of a gun reloading, four sets of boots crunching on gravel as they round her car on both sides.

She is actually scared now, her right shoulder twinges painfully as she tries to rip out the buckle of her seatbelt, “Ah, shit.” They actually hit her it seems, her white blouse is starting to bleed red down her arm the more she struggles on the belt.

A balding man crouches down into her window, his eyes are glazed over, his face is twisted into a sickening grin. “Hello halfy,” He sneers. “Your big brother wanted us to check in on you this fine night, he was deathly worried for your health as of late.”

His gaze snaps to her bloody shoulder fixated on it for a second or so as he takes a deep breath of warm fresh blood, his dull eyes start to pool red as he takes another lung full of bloody air.

Lena shudders in disgust tilting her face away from his, he reeks of death and rot, ghouls were her least favorite creature that her brother had in his employ.

“Enjoying ourselves are we?” She mutters as his eyes roll open again.

He hums in delight. “He did say your blood was more or less mortal, it's almost humanly sweet.” his smile widens, some kind of old meat seemingly stuck in his teeth and gums as he appraises the state of her and her battered car. “Shame you didn't drive your nicer car, we could have stripped it for parts, but ah, oh well. We’re only here for you tonight then sadly.”

A creaking noise shook the car as he ripped her driver’s door clean off its hinges, Lenas heightened smell was shocked by a wall of death the bald man oozed when he leaned in to free her of her seatbelt and dragged her out of the car by the scruff of her blouse.

Still dazed and newly freed from the metal deathtrap, Lena saw this as her last chance to try and escape from her brother’s lackeys. “I may smell human but by no means does that mean that I’m weak like one.” Latching onto the ghoul’s arm with shaking hands, Lena uses his own weight to counterbalance them both into the loose dirt and flipped herself over again to grab for his throat. She hates to use it but her power has to be used now before what little blood she does drink wears off and leaves her completely defenseless, she’ll have to kill him quickly.

His body starts to convulse as she uses her hand to tear into his fragile throat, black rotten blood oozing over her fingers as his body finally stops thrashing about. She’s still aware of the three heartbeats of the other goons as she finally stands up, her glowing eyes lock onto a man with mousy brown hair, his own eyes are terrified. They all are.

These ones are all human, two are just boys compared to her own age, and they’re all frozen stock still like rabbits to a fox.

Lena is shaking, she doesn’t kill humans, she won’t stoop to her brother’s level. “Leave, go home and forget about this whole night, I don't want to kill any of you. This man was not human, he likely would have eaten you all after my death so take this as an act of mercy. Please.”

The youngest is seems to want no part so he tossed down his weapon and dragged the other two back to their vehicle, the older ones still frozen and staring at the rapidly decaying body of the now-dead ghoul. “Let’s get the hell out of here guys!”

The car ripped out and back onto the highway leaving a wobbly and drained Lena in the dust, “Ugh!” She shrieks in anger as she kicks the rotten body in her rage.

Before she can take out more of her frustration on the dead ghoul she hears a familiar chime of her phone’s ringtone, or more specifically, Karas ringtone.

“Shit. Movie night, I was supposed to be at Karas tonight.” Grumbling as she whipped her bloody hand on her jeans, she bent over to pick up her cracked phone to answer her friend.

“Lena?” Lena sighed, “Hi Kara, I'm sorry for not calling you back, I seem to have run into some car trouble on my way to yours.” Glancing over to her clearly totaled car she winced at the sight of it, “Well more like it's completely totaled now.”

On Karas’s end of the line, she heard a crash and rushing of footsteps, “Ohmygosh! Are you okay Lena?? Where are you, I can come to get you or send my friend to help? Please tell me you’re okay..”

The brunette felt her eyes well up with tears, she really didn't deserve this human known as Kara Danvers, she really didn't.

“I'm off of creek falls and the main highway near the cliff drop, I'm no worse for wear sort of, I'm standing on my own two feet at the moment so I’d say ok, for now anyway, I definitely need a shower and a lot of sleep after this though.” Lena tried to joke but didn't hear Kara anymore, just a rush of air against the microphone.

Confused Lena checks the line, “Kara? Are you still there?”

“Y-yeah Lena I'm still here, um, please don't be mad." Now that made Lena pause. "What? Why would I be mad at you?"

The wind in the earpiece lighted up a bit, "I'm almost there, I'm picking you up, I called Alex she'll be on her way too okay? Was there another car involved or an animal run across the road?" Panic gripped at Lena, Kara can't see this mess! Let alone the rotting ghoul body at her feet, she wouldn't understand!

"Kara, wait, it’s alright I already called the authorities and everything, it'll take a bit but I'm fine right now, also don't drive while on the phone! I don't want to be the cause of yet another accident tonight." Lena hear Kara scoff into the phone, "Thank you for the concern, but I'm definitely not driving, I don't even have a permit." She chuckled at her own expense.

Another pause.

"I'll be fine, just promise not to be mad when you see me? Yelling is fine but don't hate me, please." Anxiety wasn't a common thing for Lena but right now she can feel it clawing up her throat and she swallowed down her guilt of having her sweet fragile Kara seeing what her own monstrous hands are capable of.

She trusts Kara with her life, she'll have to trust her with her dark secret now. "Only if you promise me the same, it’s a mess over here and I'm certain that it'll be horrific for you to see why."

Kara hummed in thought for a second, "Well duh, I could never hate you Lena, or any other bad emotion towards you really." She said carefully like if she said it louder Lena wouldn't believe her.

"Ah wait, I think I see you? Oh." Kara whispered then the line went dead.

Lena was sitting hunched against her busted car, looking around confused at the lack of vehicle, Kara nowhere in sight. Letting out a ragged breath Lena let her head fall back with her eyes closed, praying that Kara would listen to her explain the scene before her.

The brunette’s eyes snapped open when she felt a warm hand on her good shoulder, to say she almost shit a brick would be putting it very lightly because right before her was Supergirl, but in Kara Danvers' sweats, T-shirt, and a very red cape with no socks or shoes to top it all off. Being shocked would be a very light word for how Lena is at that moment.

Super- uh, Kara is pretty much herself while she looks Lena over, making soft cooing noises as she checks over each scrape and bruise, she all but balls her eyes out when she shifts Lena's shirt to check the gunshot wound.

"Lena, Rao, I should have listened further out for you, if I was listening I could have stopped this." Lena was a bit slow to process her words but she quickly bounced back and stupidly asked, “Kara? You’re not human?” Kara stilled her hands, “Yeah. I'm sorry I kept it from you ‘till now, I just could never find the right moment to tell you. I was going to try again tonight if that’s worth anything.”

Kara did look nervous, wary that Lena was angry about her lying for so long, but instead of being angry Lena just full body laughed at their predicament.

As light tears started to form in Lena's eyes Kara nervously held the brunette's hand. "Lena? I don't know if laughing should make me feel nervous or happy right now."

Lena chuckled a couple more times and pulled the blonde into a relieved hug. "I've been an idiot, I've been trying to bring up the fact that I'm not human either for the past year Kara, so right now I think it's a bit ridiculous that you've been worrying about the same thing." Lena definitely didn't miss the full bodied twitch Kara did after hearing her say this, she understood though, Lena is technically human but only partially. It was briefly a one sided embrace until Kara hugged her back with almost all her strength, leaving Lena only mildly squished but overall content.

Their little bubble was immediately burst when a black SUV pulled up to blind the two of them, a bedraggled Alex dressed in her own pajamas and combat boots holding a shovel, "Kara. Tell me why did you text me 911 please bring a shovel! At 1 am Kara- WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT??"

Alex is out of her car and right by Kara's side almost instantly when the once thought to be dead ghoul flips onto its side to drag its to Lena, grossly gurgling its black blood as it crawls over to the trio.

"That would be what's left of my brother's newest hit and sent to check in on me. He's a ghoul so I probably should have made sure to take the whole head off inside of ripping her throat out." Lena extracts herself from an equally shocked Kara and tugs the shovel out of Alex's limp fingers, "Please pardon me, I'll give it right back."

Alex looks at her dumbfounded, Lena shrugs as she turns back to the ghoul clearly annoyed beyond belief. "I would say have a nice trip given that you're going straight to hell but I really don't appreciate what you did to my car, " she glances over at the once upon a time pristine white paint job and cringes at the many bullet holes and scratches.

"Actually I'm more pissed that I had to meet you at all, so, bye now."

She raised the shovel as high as she could with her good arm and swung down with all of her might, the ghoul let out one last hiss as the head fell from his body.

Exhausted Lena looks back at the gawking Danvers sisters, "Help me clean this up and I'll get you both whatever food you want and could eat for a month?" She was almost certain Alex was going to shoot her up until that offer was in play, both sisters bolted up and came over to help.

"You're also going to fill us in about whatever the hell that thing was and why he worked for your brother." Alex stated as she waved her hand in Lena's direction in an almost protective voice.

"And about the not human thing." Kara mumbled as she grabbed the creatures legs over to the deepening hold Alex was currently working on.

With a big sigh of relief Lena nodded, vowing to answer whatever her two friends asked her.

"Deal."

28 notes · View notes

jawritter · 4 years

Text

When The Lights Go Out

Chapter 5

Summary: Life hasn’t been your best friend lately, you lost your job, and are on the verge of losing your apartment. Who knew when you decided to join a Sugar Daddy app that your best friend suggested ina last ditch effort to save your apartment, and not end up on the street, your first and only client would turn your whole world upside down.

Pairing: Mobster!Dean Winchester x Virgin! Reader

Word Count: 2369

Series Warnings: Mob level violence, injured Dean, description of injury, creepy Godfather John Winchester, John is pretty much a douche bag, escort services, virgin reader, lose of virginity and all the insecurities and fun stuff that come with it, age gap (23 year old reader; 40 year old Dean), angst, unrequited/requited love?, language, smut, unprotected smut.

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Fighting, Angry Dean (yes that’s a warning), John being the douchebag he is, language, I think that’s everything.

A/N: Beta’d by @deanwanddamons! Thanks so much love!! Please don’t copy my work!! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one!! It’s gonna be a little bit of a slow burn y’all, but just hang in there!

(This fic is based on this request: Could you do a Dean x reader where she is 23 and lives alone in her apartment, she gets fired and can loose her house, her friend tells her about a sugar daddy app, she makes a profile and Dean 40, contacts her, she is virgin and don’t offers sex, Dean is billionaire business man and needs a girl for his business parties,the reader is really shy, blushes a lot, they fall in love, he takes her to a trip and makes love to her on a private island, could it be a series?)

Want more? Check out my masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***SERIES MASTERLIST***

Two weeks.

That’s how long you’d been in the prison that was the sprawling Winchester Estate.

Well to you it was a prison anyway, to anyone else standing from an outsider's perspective, you hit the jackpot.

You, on the other hand, didn't feel so lucky.

You felt trapped, and alone. No matter what Dean did to try and make it better, no matter how close you and Jess had become over the last few weeks, it wasn’t home, and that’s the whole reason you joined that whole Sugar Daddy app to begin with. Now you didn’t even have that.

You knew that you had gotten in way too deep when you first met Dean Winchester, but damn if you didn’t know that you had gotten in that damn deep.

Now, you had lost your only home you’d ever really had, along with what felt like your freedom to live and move like a normal human being.

Dean had tried. He really had. He felt horrible about what John was making you do, and he and Jess helped you pack up everything in your apartment the day after John’s declaration. That was probably the hardest thing you had ever done. Keep up the happy couple act for Jess, while silently you felt like you were dying, or wishing that you would.

That’s when you really started to resent Dean Winchester.

If he would have just left you alone, if he had never contacted you, if you had never got into his SUV that Friday night, you wouldn’t be in this mess, and better yet, if he would have been man enough to tell you the fucking truth about who the fuck he was, you wouldn’t be in this mess. You would have never agreed to go on that God forsaken “date” with him in the first place. No matter how much money you needed, or how fucking attractive he was.

The first week that you were here, Dean really tried to spend as much time with you as his “work” would allow. Taking you out to get ice cream, down to the peer to watch the boats, anything and everything he could think of.

You couldn’t tell if he was just trying to keep up the happy couple act for his family, or if he just felt guilty, and was trying to make it up to you.

That just drove your resentment deeper.

You were forced to share a bed with him, but mercifully it was large enough that you could throw a pillow between the two of you to use as a wall, keeping him at bay, at least mentally anyway, and still have enough room to sleep comfortably.

The first night you did that, you could have sworn the most hurt look you had ever seen on a person crossed his face, but he hid it quickly, and now when he got into bed, whenever that was he just turned his back on you, and fell asleep, or passed out, because Dean had taken to drinking a lot.

Week two started, and you barely spoke to each other inside your shared room. Only on the outside of the room did you even attempt to act like a couple with him, and that’s because you didn’t want to die.

When the second week started, John had started taking Dean on a lot more “jobs” with him, and usually they were gone late into the night. When Dean finally did stumble back in the door, he recked of whiskey, and stumbled to the bed without so much as a good night, or fuck you, just like you were another piece of expensive furniture that filled the room.

You didn’t ask Dean about his work.You didn’t ask Dean about much of anything.You found it easier just to ignore each other.

Tonight was no different. You had spent all day working on the transcript that your new job Dean had got you, just like he promised, had sent you.

You were thankful for the job. It was a nice distraction from the reality you now found yourself in, even if you knew Dean probably only got it for you to cover his ass.

Dean had been gone all day with John, which freed you up to move around the house without risk of being caught by John, who you tried to avoid with everything in you. Something about the man just made your skin crawl. Still today you had work to do, and that’s what you did, from the moment you woke up to the empty bed, Dean on another “job”, to the point where a knock on our door disturbed you from your distraction.

“Hey woman! You’ve been hauled up in here all damn day! Care if I join you?” Jess asks, coming in without invitation and flopping down at the foot of your bed.

“Be my guest. Nothing really all that exciting here today though,” you tell her, typing away on the computer in front of you.

“You're still working? You do realize it’s almost seven in the evening right?” she asked, shock clearly evident in her voice.

Looking up at the clock on the wall, you look back down at your computer with wide, burning eyes. You hadn’t realized that it was that late.You had successfully wasted the whole day staring at this computer.

“No, I hadn’t realized it was that late.” you mumble, shutting your computer, and shoving it away from you like it might come to life and attack you, earning a smile from Jess.

“Well come on.The men are home, and it’s time for dinner. I haven’t even seen you leave this room today, so I know you probably haven’t eaten. Dean won’t be happy if you get too skinny now will he?” she said with a wink.You forced a chuckle in response, but said nothing in fear that you would blow your cover, and Deans.

Truth be told, you weren’t sure Dean would even notice you died, much less lost weight.

Getting up from your perch on the bed, you stretch and follow Jess to the dining room where you could hear the men’s voices filtering in from the hall. Bracing yourself for another acting session, you take a deep breath, and step down into the room.Thankfully, they were all so immersed in conversation that they didn't even see you two walk in.

Jess took her seat next to Sam, and you next to Dean as the maid came into the room with the butler that you didn’t even know the name of, and started to plate everyone’s food. That was one thing that you just couldn’t get used to. People waiting on you hand and foot that way.

“Well I’m telling you Sammy, another person in the car is nothing but another liability, and Dad and I can move in and out easier with just the two of us,” Dean said, not even acknowledging you sitting next to him.

“I agree with Dean. Sam, stay here and watch over the ladies. Dean and I will be in and out quicker if it’s just the two of us.”

Sam throws down his silverware, and Jess leans over to quiet him down before he can make too big of a scene.

“When are the two of you gonna stop treating me like a child? I can handle this job, just me and Dean!”

“Well Sammy, maybe if you weren’t walking around acting like a little bitch every fucking job you were sent on, then Dad would trust you with this.” Dean said, shoving food into his mouth, not bothering to make eye contact with his little brother.

“Fuck you Dean.You think that since you’ve got a woman now, and the high table is back to kissing your pretty little ass, that you can say and do whatever the fuck..”

“ENOUGH!” John’s voice boomed, and everyone at the table froze. “Sam, you're not going on this job, and that’s final. It’s dangerous, you’re not experienced enough, that’s it, that’s my call, and that’s final.”

A defining silence fell over the room. Sam sat there brooding at his plate of food, pushing food around with his fork. Jess dared not say anything, but instead busied herself pouring another glass of wine. Dean continued to give you the cold shoulder, and busied himself with his own food.

John, on the other hand, was watching Dean and yourself with a sickening smirk on his face.

“So Y/N. My son and I will be leaving early tomorrow to go on a rather dangerous job.This one is one of the biggest deals that we’ve done in a long time, and if it goes south, it might be awhile before you see Dean again, I assume you plan to send him off properly tonight.”

You turned white as the table cloth sitting on the table in front of you, and Dean paused from eating only a moment, before returning to his meal, a little smoother at hiding his shock than you at his father’s boldness. That or he was just used to it.

You, on the other hand, had to force down the wave of bile that was working its way up your throat at John’s lewdness.

“I...I...Don’t see how that’s any of your business.” you stutter, still shocked he boldly asked such a question, much less at the dinner table.

“Oh, it’s plenty my business princess. See what we have to do tomorrow requires a lot of concentration, and I need my boy’s head in the game, and not on what he did not get last night. See sweetheart, it’s your job to take care of my son, and he’s one of my best, so I expect you to never let him leave this house with his balls….”

“STOP!” Dean yelled, shocking everyone at the table. Throwing his napkin down he shoves his chair back with force, and goes to walk out of the room, stopping only to look over his shoulder and to call you to him, the first time he’d spoken to you directly in three days.

“Y/N, come, now.”

Whatever raft Dean had planned when you got back up to your room was better than this conversation, so you quickly got up from the table and followed him there without a word, grateful for an excuse to get away from that room, and away from John.

As soon as you got to your room, you quickly thought maybe you were better off downstairs, because as soon as Dean shut the door and locked it behind you, he rounded on you with more fury than you had ever seen in the green eyes that still haunted your every dream.

“What the fuck was that down there? Do you realize you almost got us both fucked down there?!?! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND?! You have the audacity to disrespect my father, at his table, and think he’s not going to make me pay for it?”

Dean backed you to the wall before letting his fist land very close to the side of your face, literally letting you feel the breeze of the blow as he hit the wall with force, pinning you against the wall.

“Dean, how can you say that? You heard what he asked you down there?”

Dean snarled at you, and you cowered back into the wall further.

“He suspects what’s going on between us, or else he wouldn’t ask.You could have played along, but no you had to show your ass. Don’t you get it? He’s dangerous Y/N! One word and he could have you killed, and no one would ever come looking, nothing I could do would stop it!!”

Shoving off the wall and away from you, Dean poured a glass of whiskey in the expensive crystal tumbler that sat on the little table by the door. He took a deep breath to calm himself, before taking it down in one pull.

When he turned back to you, his eyes were colder than you had ever seen them, and it made your stomach curl sickeningly.

“How often do I have to apologize to you for this? I know it was my fault. I know I fucked up and pulled you into this mess. I’ve tried to tell you I’m sorry. I’ve tried to show you I’m sorry, everything I’ve done, every job since you got here was to ensure you have a future, to make sure YOU want for nothing!! Night after night, day in and day out, you walk around here mopping, ignoring me, hurting my feelings, disrespect me! This job I’m doing tomorrow is to present you to the high table, to make sure that we can live whatever life there is for us now comfortably, and no one calls a hit out on you!! Do you give a shit? Fuck no!”

Anger boiled under the surface of your skin like water in a pot, and you had to swallow hard to make your voice work as tears streamed freely down your face. How dare he try and make this all your fault. Like you had disrespected him, when he’d taken everything away from you.

“I hope your ‘high table’ kills you tomorrow, then maybe I’ll be free of you and your lies.” you spat at him, and he flinches before collecting himself, careful not to let too much show.

“Oh no baby girl. Because if they kill me, you belong to John Winchester, so you better fucking pray I come back alive.” Dean turns to go into the bathroom connected to your room, undoing his tie with force and throws it across the room.

Turning to face you, his face showed more hurt than he’d let you see before.

“You know, I thought maybe, just maybe I could convince you to feel for me what I’ve felt for you from the moment I saw you. Guess I was wrong.”

Slamming the door to the bathroom before you could say anything, you stood there with your thoughts reeling. Was he playing with you, or was he telling the truth?

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307 notes · View notes

boymeetsweevil · 4 years

Text

the most magical place in hell

Grouping: (For Science) Reader x JK

Word Count: ~3.1k

Warnings/Themes: implied sex, 5 is a crowd annoying friends since that’s the vibe these days, d*sn*y please don’t sue

Prompt: “For Science, I miss this couple sm. Any scenario would be fantastic! For inspo, did JK and OC get to go on a vacation, (jk expressed he wanted to in his journal) if so how did that go? Any fun new experiments?”

A/N: This commissioned fic is part of the Changes with Luv project, hosted by FicsWithLuv. Here you can find more information about the project, cause, places to donate, and ways to commission a piece or offer your services if you are a content creator. Thank you!

On the third day of the cruise, Jungkook rolls over in his sleep. His hand reaches for you. His palm meets the bare skin of your shoulder already moving despite how pale the morning light is under his lashes.

“What’s happening,” he mumbles before grabbing more greedily at you. There’s not too much resistance as you let yourself be dragged a few inches across the sheets.

“We have to get up. Breakfast starts in 10 minutes, remember?”

You lean down to press a peck just above his brow bone and he groans. As you pull away, there’s a sweet waft that hits him and lets him know you’ve already showered and gotten ready. Now it’s his turn.

He gives himself just until you gather your things and shut the door to the room. Then he’s pulling himself out of bed with every ounce of energy he has left. He brushes his teeth with his eyes closed, does a perfunctory shower with the lights off like it’ll give him some more sleep. But he’s still dead tired as he throws on an outfit and heads out the door.

The walk to the dining area was exciting 3 days ago. The decadent decor, the view from the high balcony separating his floor from the others, the grand 20’s style atrium with Mickey Mouse memorabilia incorporated throughout. Everything used to be exciting 3 days ago. Sadly, the first day passed and things quickly lost their charm.

As he scoops a smiley-face omelette onto his plate in the buffet line, he searches for your face in the crowd of families scarfing down their first meals of the day so they can take their kids to the waterfall pool on deck 6. By the time he reaches the end of the line, there’s still no sight of you among the tables. So he ventures outdoors where there’s less seating but considerably more sun. He thinks back to his quick routine in the room. Did he remember to put on sunscreen?

When he finds you, you’re stretched out on a beach chair and taking in some of the sun. His mood is partially lifted when he sees just how content you look getting warmed like a lizard on a rock in your tiny bikini. He stands over you deliberately just to see you pout and pull down your sunglasses with a huff.

“Oh, it’s just you.”

“Who’d you think it was?”

“I thought it was Hoseok about to ask me to take his profile pic again.”

Jungkook chuckles a little before sitting in the open seat next to you. “Couldn’t have been him. Too early.” “That’s true.” You sit up then, peering at his plate. “What’d you get us?”

“Us?” His smile is warm. “I thought you’d have eaten by now with the way you left the room.”

“I was looking for an empty spot for us. It was your job to find the actual food.”

“No one else would willingly wake up this early,” he cuts a fraction of the omelette before holding the bite up to you. “But I guess it’s only fair.”

You open your mouth happily.

“Permission to board the S.S. girlfriend?”

“Are you serious?”

“I’m wasting fuel in the port,” he continues to hover the fork just outside your reach, even when you jump forward with a nip.

“Permission to board,” you grumble.

He laughs like you told a great joke and gently feeds you the bite. With soft eyes, he watches you point to different things on the plate and dutifully feeds you your fill. This might be the first time he’s been able to spend a few moments alone with you since the five of you got on the cruise. He finishes up the bit of toast you couldn’t finish and the few blueberries that didn’t interest you. He must be staring because you turn to him in your reclined position and return the favor.

“You’re looking a little red. Did you put on sunscreen?”

“I think I forgot. I was trying to get ready fast so you wouldn’t have to sit around alone.”

“I wasn’t alone,” you reach into the bag you brought for sunscreen. “Yoori was with me. She left for the gym maybe 2 minutes before you came out here.”

“Oh,” is all he says.

Jungkook scowls a bit as you rub the lotion onto his face. That Yoori and Hoseok, and probably even Taehyung, might be spending more time with you on this trip than him is starting to be the horrible icing on this shitty vacation cake.

“Why don’t we take some time to—” He begins but a large shadow looming over the two of you makes him stop in his tracks.

“Hey,” a man with thick blond hair and even thicker muscles nods down at you. “You were at the adult lounge last night, right?”

Jungkook’s mouth drops open. Thor—or the actor who plays him during the Marvel day activities—has come up to your spot. He’s got the Ragnorok breastplate on with board shorts adorning his chiseled lower half. From the top up, he looks just like the real thing.

“Wow. Yeah I was, I’m surprised you remember,” you hold a hand over your eyes so you can look up at “Thor”.

“How could I forget. You and your beautiful friend were quite the sight yesterday.”

“Oh, uh. Thanks.”

In all his excitement, he overlooks the flirting. Jungkook stands up from his seat then and sticks out his hand. “Thor” shakes it hesitantly.

“Hey. I know you’re not the real thing, but it’s great to see you. I wasn’t at the adult lounge last night, so we didn’t get to meet.”

Jungkook makes sure to puff out his chest so “Thor” will notice the print of his button down shirt. Tiny little hammers.

“Do you like the shirt?” He beams.

“Thor” squints down at the animated hammers.

“I can’t say I really know what’s on it, but sure.”

“They’re...they’re Mjölnirs.”

“Mole-whats?”

You gasp, clapping your hands over your mouth.

Jungkook drops “Thor”’s hand at the same moment, disappointment turning down the corners of his mouth.

“Nothing. They’re just drawings. Have a good day, man.”

“Thor” chuckles before looking back down at you. “Cute kid,” he says before sending you a wink and making some comment about getting to rehearsal.

Yoori returns from the gym that moment, nearly running into “Thor”. He gives her an appreciative once over which she returns smugly. Her expression changes as she approaches you and Jungkook looking like you had both seen a car crash.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you respond quickly with a subtle look at the back of Jungkook’s head to tell her ‘not now’.

“Well,” she plops down on the end of Jungkook’s beach chair, “How was breakfast?”

“It was fine,” Jungkook sighs and scoots back so she’ll have some room. “We finished a little while ago. Now we’re just making plans for the rest of the morning.”

“Couple stuff...I’ll go get myself a plate, then.”

You wait until Yoori’s disappeared into the dining area to turn to Jungkook. He doesn’t look angry per se. Just resigned.

“What were you saying before?”

“Hmm,” his eyes are far away, “I was just saying we could take some time to ourselves.”

He wants to say he feels like he’s barely seen you since he stepped on the ship, but he doesn’t want to make you feel bad. The funny thing is that you weren’t even looking forward to the trip before the first day. The tickets for this Marvel cruise were a last minute gamble. You had dropped many not-so-subtle hints about wanting to go somewhere a little less kid-friendly, but he’d waited until the last minute.

At first it seemed like the best possible last choice a person could have. You were all fans of the comics and movies with the exception of Taehyung and Yoori. Taehyung was more of a DC fan and Yoori just sort of let the movies wash over her. You’d been worried that the week would be torture for you with all the screaming kids around. But you were actually having the time of your life. Meanwhile Jungkook was having a less than ideal time.

“Sure. Like what?”

“Maybe we could relax? I’ve had research video meetings the last two nights, so I haven’t really been up for the late night stuff. And I’m just barely up for the morning stuff.”

“Hmm. What about the spa? I haven’t been there yet and it’s on my list.”

“The spa?” Yoori comes out with a mountain of waffles and rumpled-looking Taehyung and Hoseok behind her. “Yeah, let’s go to the spa!”

“Actually, I think Kook just wanted to—”

“I heard it’s actually pretty decent on this boat. They have a hot rock massage where all of the rocks look like the Tinman’s suit.”

“The Tinman,” Jungkook practically chokes.

“I think she means Iron Man,” Hoseok grins sleepily. “Anyway, I’m down for the spa thing too. Never too early to have a tiny lady go in on my thighs.”

“You’re literally so nasty,” Yoori glares back at him.

As your other friends bicker, you flash Jungkook an apologetic look. He shrugs because that’s easier than fighting it. He relishes the second plate of food you get for him and lets you feed him the bites in between kisses and mini-reapplications of sunscreen. It’s all the rest he gets that day. The spa is probably the least relaxing moment of his life.

He doesn’t even get to sit near you. Instead, he gets roped into the men’s section where Hoseok’s tiny lady goes too hard on his thighs and the resulting yelps make Jungkook’s ear drums pound. Taehyung falls asleep two minutes into the Iron Man hot rock massage and snores in a way that’s nearly identical to the 60 year old guests napping nearby.

You emerge from the women’s section with Yoori looking like you’d smell and feel like a rose petal. But Jungkook doesn’t ever find out if you do, because he’s being thrown right back into more “fun”. Somewhere in the back of his mind—between Black Widow meet and greet and the Ant-Man lunch show—he thinks that he would probably be having actual fun if he had some time to breathe. Although, he figures it’s enough to just breathe you in. He feels slightly less drained looking at your smiling face and wide eyes as a wild Hulk appears behind you at the pool after lunch, spraying you lighty with comically huge muscles and a comically tiny water gun.

“You’re not coming?”

Jungkook groans, partly out of guilt and partly out of exhaustion. It’s nearing 10:30 at night and you’re getting ready to go to the adult lounge again. This time it’s for all-things-Spiderman trivia and drinks. He wants to want to go. But he can’t find the strength. He figures too much sun and too much socialization is the answer.

“You’re not staying,” he counters as he does his best to sit up in bed. There’s a nice soft glow bleeding in from the giant picture window of the suite that looks onto the water and there’s some Loki pajamas calling his name. Your tight little dress is calling to him too. I’d look better on the floor, it says.

“I figured this would be a lot more lowkey than everything else we’ve done today. There’s no water and no noisy families. Or screaming Hoseoks.”

“You heard that earlier?”

“I did,” you grimace. “He must have really pissed off that masseuse.”

“I’m pretty sure he just talked with her like he talks normally.”

“Can’t fault her for that, then.”

There’s a beat of silence as you test the security of some strappy heels. Naturally your eyes wander from the shoes to your boyfriend. He’s tapping away at some emails on the ship’s slow wifi no doubt. If you couldn’t tell how tired he was from the slope of his shoulders and the bruise-like shadows under his eyes, the giant yawn he barely stifles is a giveaway.

“Maybe I could just—”

The door to your suite swings open, revealing Taehyung looking frightened in a silky peach button down as Yoori pinches Hoseok’s ear.

“You’re coming, right? Please tell me you’re coming.”

“She’s coming,” Jungkook pipes up from the bed. His eyes never leave the screen of the computer as he types away, but he blinks slow and long. Your heart aches a little.

Taehyung breathes out a sigh of relief and links arms with you. You get one last look at your exhausted boyfriend before you’re pulled out of the room entirely.

“Do you think they’ll even bother asking about the Garfield version?” Taehyung’s question shakes you out of your worry.

“Pfft, no.”

On the fourth day of the cruise, Jungkook is awakened earlier than he wants yet again. A large clap of thunder and the bolt of lightning flash from the other side of the window. He crawls quietly around your sleeping form and throws on his glasses. There’s heavy rain too—a sure sign that the pools and sundecks will be closed. Out of habit, he checks his email and sees a message from the ship coordinator.

Esteemed Guests,

As some of you may know, two performers at last night’s dinner show in House of Mouse theatre (Deck 5, room 6B) showed signs of a stomach bug during the performances. For the safety of the rest of the cast, staff, and guests, we will be postponing today’s shows to sanitize the performance rooms and allow the actors time to recover. Room service will still be available.

We know this is a large inconvenience, and to thank you for understanding, please check your trip accounts for a refund for today’s fares. Additionally...

Jungkook can’t help the fist pump and small hoot he lets out. The email gives him the same feeling he gets on those days when he wakes up hours before his alarm only to discover his professor had cancelled class for the day. With a skip in his step, he returns to bed.

When he wakes up hours later, it’s natural. You’re still spooned to him, still soft and warm and pliant in sleep. He runs the tip of his nose along your neck while the fog of sleep lifts. The smell of your soap and skin is warmed with sleep. The sniffing must tickle you, because you stir before arching against him in a morning stretch. He moves so he doesn’t get in the way of your swinging limbs and smiles to himself. It feels like it’s been forever since he last got to hold you like this without the threat of someone whisking you away.

“Morning,” your voice is gravelly from disuse. “What’s going on. What’s the plan?”

“There’s no plan.”

You’re still half asleep, but you have the social awareness to let your voice go high with incredulity. “No plan?”

“No plan. They sent an email.”

“Read it to me?”

He reads the formal apology while you turn in the covers so you can embrace him while you wake up. By the time he’s done reading, you’ve sat yourself up to look at his phone screen as well.

“Sounds good,” you chirp.

“Really? I would have thought you’d be disappointed about not having a packed day. You’ve been zooming around since we got on board.”

“Yeah, but this was supposed to be our time together. It’s only natural that your friends would tag along.”

“So they’re my friends now?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Only when they’re annoying.”

As if on cue, the front door sounds with knocking. Taehyung is the one who calls out about breakfast plans, but you know all three of them are out there. It’s almost a menacing thought.

“Your friends are here,” he groans. His head falls back onto his pillow defeatedly. They’re likely to burst in any second.

“Don’t worry.”

The sound dies down momentarily when Yoori mentions the extra keycard you gave her for emergencies. Hoseok and Taehyung continue to jiggle the door for sport while chatting idly. Meanwhile, you crawl underneath the sheets and re-emerge on Jungkook’s side of the bed. You look him over, as if searching for something. He’s about to ask what you’re looking for when you reach out and pinch both his cheeks suddenly. While he’s mid-yelp, you swoop in and nip at his lips. It’s quick but it was just harsh enough that his face looks blotchy and his mouth starts to swell.

He whines. “Is this because I called them your friends?”

“Just trust me,” you hiss before your hands disappear further down the sheets to tug off your own underwear and throw it towards the door.

A moment later, the door swings open to reveal Yoori, Hoseok, and Taehyung. Their smiles are bright until they take in the scene. Jungkook’s hair is a mess, his cheeks are flushed, and his mouth looks like it’s been lightly ravaged. Though you’re mostly covered with the sheets, the underwear that is very clearly not on your body and the way the sheets drape over your head as you lay between his knees tell a very convincing lie.

“I think I just caught that stomach bug.” Yoori says lightly, still smiling. Hoseok peers behind her, looking mildly interested.

“I hate it when I remember they have sex with eachother,” Taehyung buries his face in his friend’s shoulder looking mortified as Yoori slowly closes the door.

“Yeah, it’s kind of like walking in on your aunt and uncle doing it. But, like, 12 times worse.”

Jungkook basks in the new silence for a few moments before it’s replaced with the rustle of sheets.

“What are you doing” he trails off to a whisper as you tug the waistband of his underwear down. Your hands still.

“You don’t want to have boat sex?”

“No, no, I do. I wanna have boat sex.”

He nods intensely and you laugh at how earnest he still is. Jungkook’s cheeks flare up, now doubly red from quiet excitement.

“Guess I should have just proposed this, huh?”

“Yeah,” you hum thoughtfully while moving on your knees to straddle his hips. “I can't see how this would have ruined anyone’s fun.”

“I can think of a couple people’s fun we just ruined.”

“I really meant my fun. Speaking of which,” you settle onto his lap and begin to grind.

He shudders, head falling forward with a sigh. This, he thinks, is the real happiest place on earth.

#changeswithluv #networkbangtan #btswriters #bangtan bookclub #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #honestly not sure where this title came from but who cares i guess

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