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trickphotography2 · 2 months

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D-Day by TrickPhotography | Chapter 18 - Jake's POV

Thank you for the prompt @beyondthesefourwalls. Here's 4.8K words of Jake's POV - it got way more angsty than anticipated...

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“Pick up,” Jake growled. “Pick up, pick up. Damn it!” When the call rolled to voicemail again, he hung up before you’d even finished saying, ‘Hi, you’ve reached - ’

Walking the halls in the carrier wasn’t the smartest thing to do when making a call. There were dead spots everywhere, not to mention the higher-ranking officers he’d have to stop and salute. But it didn’t matter. Jake needed to talk to you somewhere he wouldn’t be interrupted. With Fritz hanging out in the room, his best bet was to find an empty lounge or meeting room.

Those two texts had nearly made his heart stop.

Prents here

What did the ‘U’ mean? His parents? Did he need to call ASAP? Did you just accidentally hit a button? Fuck. If it was your parents visiting, all the better. He could hear in your voice that you were tired, as much as you tried to hide it. And it killed him not to be there to help you more. Jake knew how much you were looking forward to having a long weekend to relax, and he wanted you to be as well-rested as possible for your trip to see him.

Guilt still gnawed at him at the thought of you flying 40 hours round trip to see him, but he wanted to see you so badly.

The next call went to voicemail as he walked into the officer lounge and saw a group loudly laughing. Biting back a growl of frustration, he shut the door and continued down the hall. Of course, this would happen when most people were off-duty, and it’d be hard to find somewhere quiet.

When his fifth call went to voicemail, Jake had to stop himself from turning and punching the wall. Not only would that hurt him more than do any damage, but he couldn’t end up at Captain’s Mast for something stupid when he was so close to getting liberty. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize seeing you.

On the sixth call, you finally picked up. Before you could say a word, he asked, “What do you mean, ‘u’?”

“Your parents are here.”

“My - ” Shock rooted him to the spot. “My parents are there?”

“Your father currently has his shoes on my coffee table and wants a beer, and your mother is in the pantry making him sweet tea as a substitute until she goes out to get some.” Your voice was stressed, and Jake hated it.

The idea of his parents being anywhere near you pissed him off and terrified him. He’d made it clear to his family that being around you and the baby was on his terms.

And, to be honest, he was pissed at himself for not realizing this would happen. After Lina had gotten on his case about not calling his parents once during the deployment, he’d finally caved and called Mama. While she’d been happy to hear from him, Jake had also gotten an earful from his father about waiting over two months to call. Knowing it wouldn't do any good, it had taken all his self-control not to hang up.

But now, knowing that they’d made the effort to go from Texas to California, Jake wished he’d paid more attention to that one fucking sentence his father had said. Should have known it hadn’t only been meant for him - “A man’s gotta keep tabs on his family, and you’re doing a piss poor job of it.”

When it came to Mark Seresin, he’d always been suspicious of his family. For a man who cared so little about his own marriage vows or how his constant infidelity would impact his family, he was always suspicious of people stepping out on him.

“Did he say why they came?” He tried to keep his tone even but knew he failed spectacularly.

“He said he wanted to keep an eye on me, and - ”

“That son of a bitch,” he snapped. Two men looked at him, and he glared back while looking into another occupied meeting room. You inhaled sharply, and he felt a spike of regret that was quickly smothered by rage.

“Jake?”

“Put him on the phone.” He would tell them to leave - they weren’t welcome in his home. Jake was nearing the commissary and spun on his heel. He didn’t want to be near anyone right now.

“I’m in our bathroom. Talk to me.”

“I can’t believe… how long are they staying?”

“The weekend, apparently. And they’re expecting to stay here.” He stopped walking, thrusting a hand into his hair and tugging.

“Absolutely not.” Jake knew he shouldn’t be taking his anger out on you, but it was hard to contain. When someone called his name, he glanced over his shoulder to see Rooster coming out of the store, a plastic bag swinging from his hand. Holding up a finger to the other man, he hissed, “I told him he wouldn’t step foot in our house, and he waited for me to be out of the fuckin’ country to do it.”

“You - ”

“I want you to call Coyote and get him there - now. And then you’re gonna call me back and stay on the phone until he gets there.”

Rooster’s eyebrows shot up, mouthing, “Everything okay?” He shook his head.

“Jake, you’re scaring me,” you said, and he hated that. He didn’t want to scare you, but he couldn’t have you near his father without someone to keep the other man in line. His mama wouldn’t do it. “Tell me what’s going on?”

“I don’t want him near you, not when I’m not there. I don’t trust him.” A phone was thrust into his face, and Jake looked up to see Rooster frowning at him. It was unlocked and opened to the Dagger text thread. Their eyes met momentarily before Jake held his phone against his shoulder and typed out a quick message as he heard you exhale.

Need someone to go to my house ASAP - H

“Babe,” you said, voice even as he returned the phone. “I understand you’re upset, but I don’t need Javy here to help manage this. I can - ”

He hissed your name, ignoring the look Rooster gave him. “You don’t know him. He’s not a good person.” When he turned away, he felt a tug at his elbow. Rooster nodded down the hall, and Jake followed.

“I know that, Jake. From the little you’ve told me about him, I know that he’s an asshole and that your mother is not my biggest fan. But I need you to please take a breath and tell me the context of why you told him he wouldn’t be in our house.” Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he heard you do the same. Rooster opened one of the classrooms and shut it. “You still there?” you asked.

“Yeah, tryin’ to find somewhere private. Hold on.” Rooster continued down the hall, checking rooms and glancing at his phone before handing it back to him. Jake glanced down at the texts from the Daggers — Javy confirmed that he was on his way with Payback, Phoenix was leaving the gym, and Bob the grocery store. Fanboy asked to be kept in the loop. Mav texted, asking where he was. Quickly, he typed that they were trying to find somewhere quiet.

“Sloane’s moving.” Your soft voice tried to distract him. As much as he appreciated it, he didn’t want that. He needed to be clear-headed right now — he needed to be Hangman when you clearly wanted Jake.

And, at that moment, he felt like he was failing at both.

Glancing down at the phone in his hand, he saw a new text from Mav on Rooster’s screen that was only two words: Ready room. Tapping his wingman on the shoulder, he handed the phone back to him. “Darlin’?”

“Yeah?”

“Can’t wait until I’m off this goddamn ship and can get some privacy.” The two men quickly changed direction, pushing through the crowded hallways and ignoring the people celebrating being off duty for the weekend. They were silent for a long time, Jake trying to push down his rising panic at his parents being there with the knowledge that his squad would arrive soon. “Do you trust me?” he asked, ignoring the look that Rooster shot him.

“Of course I do. Jake,” you sighed, exasperation sneaking into your tone. “If you don’t want them in our home, I’ll have them leave. I just… I need to have information so I can approach this the right way.”

“The right way is with Coyote there.”

“Why?” you demanded. “Why do I need your best friend here? Is your father going to be violent when I ask him to leave?”

“He better not be,” Jake growled. Unwanted memories of having to step between his parents when his father was drunk and angry threatened to swallow him. His tongue darted out, tasting the phantom coppery blood from a sucker punch he’d taken as a teen. Mark Seresin had always been a dictator in his home, and Jake had counted down the days until he could leave. He could take the yelling and name-calling - Jake had been told he was worthless more times than he could count - but as soon as he stood up and pushed back against his father, that was it. Mark expected to be the king in his castle and didn’t care if knocking around his sixteen-year-old son was the cost of enforcing that. After the school counselor called him in to ask about a black eye once, Mark had been careful to hit Jake where it wouldn’t show - where the bruises could be explained away with a rough football practice. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it fucking hurt. Not only hearing his mama crying and promising that it wouldn’t happen again but knowing that he couldn’t trust a word that came out of her mouth.

It was a relief anytime Mark deployed. Not having to tiptoe around the house was almost worth the pain in his mama’s eyes, knowing her husband was probably unfaithful again. It was worth not hiding the marks from Lina, who grew up in blissful ignorance of the monster that lived down the hall from them. When he’d gotten into the Academy, Jake had hesitated a moment before accepting, afraid of what would happen if he left the house and wasn’t there to protect mama. But she was the one who told him he had to go - things would calm down once he was out of the house, she assured him.

Unwilling to examine the lie too closely, Jake went to Annapolis with freedom at his fingertips and never looked back.

Outside the Ready Room, Mav waited, the door already propped open for them. The older aviator dipped his chin and raised his eyebrows, silently asking if Jake was okay. He shook his head, ducking into the room as you sighed.

“Babe, please, I need you to focus because we have a situation, and I need to handle it in a minute. And to do that, I need you to be very honest with me right now about your concerns about me interacting with your father and answer a few questions for me.” He felt a flicker of annoyance at your tone - the one you used when working with a particularly difficult person. “First, why did you tell him he couldn’t step foot in our home?”

“Because he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve to know you after what he said.” The two pilots stood at the back of the room, allowing him some privacy as they whispered. But he knew they could hear every word, and he didn’t want to face their pitying looks if they knew how he’d grown up.

“And what did he say?” you asked.

“I don’t - ”

“Jacob.”

“You heard him call you a tag chaser,” he said after a moment. “You didn’t hear him say…he said some pretty terrible things about you.” Running a hand down his face, he paced the front of the classroom, remembering the disgusting accusations Mark had thrown when he’d called to let his parents know that you were getting married and having a baby. Mama had cried when Jake finally yelled back that he would be damned if Mark Seresin ever laid eyes on his daughter-in-law or grandkid, which had only made the man laugh. “He said the baby probably wasn’t mine and that you’d cheat on me the moment you had the chance if you hadn’t already. And that… that you would leave me as soon as you got tired of military life, just like my ex did.”

“I…” Jake knew the words hurt and hated himself for sharing them. But you had to know what you were facing. Clearing your throat, you asked, “W-what are your concerns with me confronting him alone?”

“Darlin’,” Jake groaned. When you hummed, he cursed under his breath. “I never saw him hit ma, but it was close. And I don’t… I can’t have that happen. Not with you.” He could feel eyes on him. Ignoring them, he pulled up one of the desks and collapsed into the chair, dropping his head into a hand.

After a moment, you sighed, “Javy’s on his way. I won’t do anything until he gets here. Do I need to find a way to keep your mom away from him?”

Mama would take the brunt of this, and he wasn’t there to protect her. “I…I want to say yes, but you're my priority if it’s between you and her. Fuck!” Jake pulled at his hair, hating that you were being forced to deal with the situation. “Promise me you’ll call the cops if he does anything.”

“Of course. I love you.” There was movement in front of him, and he looked up to see Mav crouching, phone held out in front of him. Police? was typed into a note. Jake stared at it for a long moment before meeting the older man’s steady gaze. Slowly, he shook his head before lowering it and swiping at his eyes. Mav stood, squeezing his shoulder.

“I love you too, darlin’. I’m so sorry that - ”

“This isn’t on you. We can handle this. I’m gonna go check the mail to make sure that the door’s open for when Javy gets here. Do you want me to call you back when - ”

“Stay on the phone. Please, darlin’, don’t hang up.”

“I won’t.”

“Coyote and Payback are almost there,” Rooster said softly, and Jake turned to see both men watching him with concerned expressions. Nodding, he turned away from them.

His father’s voice nearly made him crack his phone with how tightly he held it. He was too far to hear what he said but snorted when you replied, “It is. He says hi.” He wanted to say many things to Mark, but 'hello' wasn’t it.

He’d apparently raised his voice to ensure he heard what he said. “Tell him I said hello, and he needs to call his mama more.” Jake bit his tongue. As much as he wanted to say something back, his wife would have to relay the message, and he didn’t want her to talk to his father more than necessary.

“I will. I’m gonna go grab the mail.” There was the sound of a door closing; he breathed a sigh of relief that you were out of the house. “Did you hear that?”

“Fuckin’ asshole,” he grunted. He could feel eyes on him but chose not to look.

“I’m gonna put my phone in my pocket for a second.”

“Darlin’, don’t - ” he said, but the line was muffled. “Darlin’, I need to hear what’s goin’ on. Pick up your phone.” But when he heard you speak next, the disbelief in your voice was unmistakable.

“Excuse me?” Jake felt his hackles rise, pushing to his feet and pacing the front of the classroom. His heart dropped to the floor when you spoke again. “I’ll have you know that I was also raised in the military, so I’m not a civilian going through their first deployment. I know how this works because my dad deployed a lot when I was growing up, and it was just my mom and me,” you snapped. “And my house is not perfect, but I had no idea I’d have guests coming, I work full time, and I’m pregnant. So when it comes to dividing my time, I will pick my career and take care of myself over doing housework, especially when I’m mostly here by myself. And Jake knew how I cleaned before we got married.”

“Don’t push him, baby,” he groaned, tugging at his hair as he pressed his phone tightly against his ear to try and hear better. “Be smart, darlin’.” He fell silent when he heard his father speak.

“I am not, and never have been, a tag chaser, so I’d appreciate it if you stopped calling me that. If anything, I married your son despite him being in the military.” You paused, then said, “Tricare’s just not worth it.”

At any other time, Jake would find that funny. But not when his father was close enough for him to finally hear what he said. “You got a smart mouth on you, you know that?”

“Get away from her,” he growled.

“It’s one of the things Jake loves about me.”

“Your daddy shoulda tanned your hide for that and taught you some manners.” He knew that tone and felt the blood leaving his face.

“We’ll agree to disagree on that.”

“Stop, darlin’. Don’t say anything.”

“Take your hand off of me. Now.”

Rage blinded him. “Take your fucking hands off my wife!” Jake yelled, balling his fist. He felt so useless, halfway across the world and unable to do anything. “I’ll fuckin’ kill you if you touch her, you bastard!”

Someone touched his shoulder, and Jake whirled to see Mav standing behind him, hands raised. “It’s just me,” he said, and it took Jake a heartbeat to realize he’d raised his fist to the other man. Quickly, he dropped his arm, unable to keep the stricken look from his face.

“Coyote’s almost there,” Rooster called from the door, phone pressed to his ear.

“Tell him to hurry,” Mav said, not removing his eyes from Jake’s face. “I need you to focus, Hangman.”

But Jake was past hearing him when his father’s voice was clearer. “An’ what’s he gonna do for you when you’re here all alone? Clearly, you need a man to teach you a lesson, and if my son isn’t up to the task - ”

“Do it and pull back a bloody stump.”

“Don’t fucking touch her!” Jake yelled.

“They’re pulling in, Jake.”

“I’ll make sure you spend the nice, long holiday weekend in jail, and I’m pretty sure those assault charges would have more consequences since I’m pregnant.”

Jake loved you to the point that it sometimes hurt, but he wanted nothing more than to cover your mouth at that moment. He could imagine Mark Seresin’s look, the fury at being challenged like that.

“You little bit - ”

He braced himself, muscles tensing futilely to throw himself in front of the blow. There was nothing he could do to protect you. Fury and horror nearly choked him as he gripped his phone and tugged at his hair, swallowing his screams to try and hear what was going on.

“Come in! We’re in the kitchen.” Jake collapsed at the sound of his best friend’s voice, knees slamming into the steel floor. “Everything’s fine,” you said. “He was just going to wait outside for his wife to come back and then find a hotel for the weekend.”

A hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing tightly. “You can’t kick me out of my son’s house,” Mark snapped, and his mouth moved wordlessly to tell him to get the fuck out.

“This is my house just as much as it’s Jake’s,” you said. “And if you don’t leave, I’ll call the police and have them remove you.”

“Let’s not get the cops involved if we don’t have to,” Javy said, attempting to play the peacekeeper.

“Call them,” Jake managed to croak. The phone was hot against his ear, and he felt disgusted when his father tried to pull rank.

“Then it’s Lieutenant Machado to you. Now, she said to get out, so let’s go.” A heartbeat later, he growled, “Back up.”

A small part of Jake wanted Mark to push. Wanted to have a reason to have Javy lay the man out - if he wasn’t there to defend his wife, he knew his best friend would do it. “You and my pussy of a son deserve each other.”

“Get. The fuck. Out of my house,” you ordered, and Jake heard a scuffle.

“Darlin’? What’s happening?” he demanded. “Talk to me, please, baby.”

Rooster hurried down the classroom steps, holding his phone up with the call on speaker. “ - inside if I don’t - ” Payback cut himself off.

“You wanna lay hands on a woman?” Jake heard Javy snarl, looking up as he listened to your ragged breathing.

“Get your hands off me, boy,” Mark hissed.

“Oh, hell no,” Payback snapped.

“Watch him. I’ve got her,” Javy ordered.

“Try something. I’m begging you,” Payback said, and Jake turned his attention back to your call, pressing a hand to his ear to try and block out everything but your breathing.

Finally, after an eternity, you sobbed his name into the phone. “Fuck, darlin’, are you okay?” he demanded, voice rough with swallowed tears. When you said you were, he squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t believe that fuckin’ asshole touched you. I’m gonna kill him.

“I’m okay,” you promised.

“She’s a little pale but looks good, Hangman.”

“Jesus, Javy - I…” Jake seemed to choke on his words. “Thank you, man. I - ”

“No thanks necessary; I'm just glad you texted me. Payback’s outside keeping an eye on the situation.” Jake glanced up at his spot from the floor, eyes darting to where Rooster was collapsed in one of the chairs, phone cradled between his knees.

“Nat’s there,” he said, noticing his wingman looking at him. “They’ve got her, man.”

Jake could hear you fighting against crying when Nat offered to take you to the hospital and would have traded anything to be there to hold you. To be the one to take you and make sure that you and the baby were alright. Knowing that someone had bruised you made him want to burn the world down.

But the hardest part, which almost succeeded in shattering him, was hearing your heartbreak while asking, “But what if they tell me I can’t come to see you?”

Breathing your name, he felt his stomach drop. He wanted to see you, to hold you tight and promise that nothing like this would ever happen again. But that wasn’t the priority right now. “I’d rather know that you and Sloane will be okay than see you in two weeks. That’s all that matters.”

Mav pulled Jake to his feet and gently pushed him into one of the desk chairs, collapsing beside him. The older pilot rested a hand on Jake’s shoulder as he listened to you crying softly when Phoenix drove you to the hospital. Sloane hadn’t moved in a while, but he did his best to assure you everything would be okay.

Jake’s phone was about to die, and he had to hang up while you waited to be seen. Rooster left to retrieve a power bank and charging cord, leaving Jake with Mav. “Are you alright, kid?” he asked.

“Not really,” Jake admitted, clutching his phone tightly and feeling how warm it was.

“Your dad’s - ”

“Dead to me.” Nodding, Mav stretched out in his chair, folding his hands over his stomach. The silence stretched for a long time before he cleared his throat.

“My dad was an aviator. Shot down in Vietnam. And my mom… well,” he huffed, smiling without humor. “She picked some real winners after he died. One of the worst, though… he’d get drunk and knock her around. I was too young to do much about it, and she told me to stay out of the way because I was making it worse.”

When Jake glanced at Mav, the other man was staring up at the ceiling, expression tense. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, he stuck around. And no matter how much I tried to tell Mom he needed to go, she wouldn’t listen. And when I turned 18, he kicked me out of the house. A couple of my friends' parents let me stay with them until I graduated high school, and they helped me figure things out when I was turned down from the Academy. She ended up staying with him right up until he dropped dead of a heart attack. Couldn’t’ve happened to a better person,” he chuckled darkly. “Didn’t really have a family until Goose, Carole, and Bradley.”

“So you’re sayin’ I can’t help my mama until Mark drops dead?”

“I’m saying that you can’t help someone who doesn’t want help, Jake.” Their eyes met, and Mav could see the argument in the younger man’s eyes. “You’ve got a wife and a kid on the way to think about now. All you can do is be there whenever your mom needs help, but you need to focus on your family.”

Jake was saved from replying when the door opened, and Rooster walked back in, kicking the door closed behind him. After handing him the power bank, he glanced at Mav before twisting off a beer bottle cap. “You don’t see shit, Captain.” Jake raised an eyebrow, accepting the room-temperature beer.

Smirking, Mav held up his hands. “Not gonna question how you got contraband alcohol outside of beer day.”

“Good,” Rooster smirked back, handing his godfather his bottle before collapsing into the chair on Jake’s other side. Resting his beer on his stomach, he sighed. “You got everything set up for liberty, Hangman?”

“Plane tickets and hotel are booked. Don’t have many other plans for when she gets there… if she gets there.”

“She will,” Mav assured him. “You been to Yokosuka before?”

“Not in a couple years. Her family was stationed outside Tokyo for a few years when she was a kid, so she’s excited to come back for a little while.”

“Any suggestions on shit to do?” Rooster asked, peeling the label from his bottle. While Jake knew they were trying to distract him, he couldn’t help but feel thankful for it as he watched his phone battery level rise. Finally, you texted that you were being brought back to an exam room.

When Jake put his phone on speaker, he bit the inside of his cheek when he heard Sloane’s strong heartbeat. “Everything looks good,” the PA said. “Baby’s heartbeat sounds good; Mom’s blood pressure is slightly elevated but is headed back to normal range.”

“They’re both okay?” Jake asked, wishing the internet signal in the classroom was strong enough to do a video call.

“Yes. Just watch the stress levels and take it easy for a bit.” After you agreed to do that, Jake reluctantly hung up after promising a video call tomorrow.

Later, Jake stood in the shower, his head tilted back so the spray hit his face and washed away his tears. He could hear Rooster and Fritz talking in the room and knew that they would soon be headed to the mess for dinner. He’d decided against going with them, needing some time alone.

Two knocks on the bathroom door let him know they were leaving and the room was empty. He waited another minute before getting out, quickly dressed in basketball shorts, and retreated to his bunk.

Lina had called, probably in response to the text he’d sent before showering. But he didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. He’d made it clear to his mama and sister - he was done with Mark. If he so much as looked at his wife or kid, Jake would end him. He was not going to stand for raising a hand to his wife. And if they wanted anything to do with Jake or his family, they wouldn’t mention Mark or bring him anywhere near them. If they did, they would be just as dead to Jake as Mark was.

Ignoring Lina's text demanding a call, Jake retrieved his laptop and pulled up your flight itinerary. With a few clicks, he upgraded your tickets to Japan and back home. He knew you wouldn’t be happy to see the price on the next credit card statement, but it didn’t matter. He would deal with your upset if it meant that you were comfortable while flying.

Two weeks, Jake thought, setting aside his laptop and turning in his small bunk. Two weeks until he could stretch out on a proper bed with his wife by his side. Two weeks until he could feel his daughter move.

Two weeks until he had the only family that mattered.

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Author's Note: Not technically a chapter, but including the tag list because this provides a lot of backstory for Jake. And I am definitely in agreement with the comparison of Hangman being Mav, and Rooster being Ice.

Tag list: @mamachasesmayhem; @memeorydotcom; @alldaysdreamers; @kmc1989; @djs8891; @caitsymichelle13; @dempy; @midnightmagpiemama; @lovelyladymayyyy; @caidi-paris; @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby; @bellaireland1981; @lethargicluv; @tenderclio; @lucypaulette; @abaker74; @trhett21; @misshoneypaper; @schreksdoubledeckerhomechecker; @eternallyvenus; @mavrellover91; @chloeforde; @thatbitcily; @rest-of-brazilian-wax; @percysaidnever; @harperdoodle; @hardballoonlove; @maeleeme; @emma8895eb; @xoxabs88xox; @queenslandlover-93; @memoriesat30; @queerqueenlynn; @capswife; @regsg18; @boisewaffles; @fudge13; @starkleila

#hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun fic #top gun maverick #jake seresin #Hangman top gun #soft!Jake Seresin #hangman smut #hangman fic #D-Day fic #jake hangman seresin

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ceilidho · 9 months

Text

sneak peek at the possessive best friend Soap fic:

Where to even begin with all of this?

Your friends can’t even begin to parse out your friendship with Johnny. Half the time, they’re convinced that the two of you are secretly dating. The other half, they’re asking you for his number (“it’s not a big deal, right? If he’s single”), which you hand out with some degree of reluctance or make excuses about, telling them not to put you in the middle, that they’re grown women and can ask a man out on their own.

So what’s it mean that you hope they won’t?

You’re well into the second decade of your friendship with Johnny. These days, you think you know everything there is to know about the man. You know the way he likes his eggs, at what point the pinched expression on his face goes from mildly pissed to possibly violent when he’s arguing with another guy, his preference for coffee over tea, the particular way he sighs when he’s tired to the bone, the distinct feel of his fingertips, the texture of his hair, the way he’ll clear his throat after a drink of water—

The point being, you know this man.

You’re not sure when the line gets crossed. It feels abrupt and somehow, entirely natural. Like you should’ve seen it coming, should’ve heard it on the telly or sirens blaring through town, but instead you sat inside with your ears plugged up.

It comes out when the two of you drink a bit too much on a night out, huddled at a table at the back of the bar with Johnny’s arm stretched behind you like usual. You blurt it out in between two other thoughts, when your eyes are drawn to another couple sitting towards the back of the bar, pressed so closely together that their noses almost touch.

“God, I need that,” you sigh, the words coming out unbidden.

The noise in the bar is just loud enough that he asks you to repeat yourself and you do, a decibel louder, nose wrinkling when you do. Just tipsy enough to lose most of your shame. He arches a brow, taking another sip of his beer.

“Need what?” Johnny asks, leaning in closer to you, probably to make sure that he can hear you this time.

“To get laid.” It falls out of you like an aside, but that’s because you hardly hear yourself saying it. Your eyes are still locked on the couple across the room, envy making your stomach clench. Feeling it in your guts.

You only frown when you realize you haven’t heard Johnny say anything in a while. When you turn back, you find him staring down at you with a peculiar intensity. Eyes bluer than you’ve ever seen before, more alert.

“Why?” His tone is hard, insistent. “You looking around or something?”

It catches you off-guard, the sudden interrogation. The tension rolling off him.

“No—I—” Your mouth opens and closes, words only holding their form for a handful of seconds. His stare makes you reconsider them. “I, just…”

He must finally notice where your eyes keep being drawn to because he looks over. His shoulders relax when he spots the couple, the two seated at the back of the bar still tangled up in each other. He hums like he gets it.

You can feel the heat burning under your cheeks. “Just forget I said anything. It’s really—this is so weird, I’m sorry.” You shut yourself up by taking a drink, looking anywhere but at your best friend’s no doubt taunting face.

When you happen to glance up though, you find Johnny’s pupils dilated. “Y’know, I could help you with that.”

The offer makes you pause, the rim of your glass pressed to your lip where you were just about to sip.

“Help me with what?”

“You feeling hot and bothered? I’d be happy to lend my services, kitty cat.”

You frown. “Oh my god. Please don’t say it like that.”

“Y’can call it whatever you want, bonnie. Just know I wouldn’y pass up the chance to get you naked. Can’t say I haven’t thought about it.”

The hand holding your glass shakes a bit so you put it down. “You have?”

You wouldn’t normally keep the conversation going, but you’ve had one too many gin and tonics. There’s just enough liquid courage in you to delicately lay the question there like a snare looking for a compliment. You tell yourself it’s nothing more than that. Johnny’s your oldest friend, sure, but he’s also a red-blooded man with corded muscle, strong shoulders, and a jawline that could cut glass. Your blood practically sings when his eyes travel over you like he can see underneath your clothes.

“Yeah, kitty,” he breathes, scooching a bit closer to you. “Think about it all the fucking time actually. Can’t remember the last time it wasn’y top of mind.”

It’s incredible that the world still seems right-side up. Everything might as well be upside down for you. “That’s—are you serious, Johnny?”

“Deadly. You need proof?” The proof feels self-evident. It’s his tight, bunched up muscles and the eager look in his eyes, the hint of teeth when he speaks. You do not, under any circumstances, look down at his lap.

“No, I don’t need proof, oh my god.” You glance around in case anyone nearby overheard, but no one pays a lick of attention to the two of you. From an outsider’s perspective, you probably look just like the other couple, Johnny’s fingers twirling around the ends of your hair, his head angled towards you intimately.

A smile breaks across his face and it’s like suddenly looking up into the sun. Blinding. “We don’t have to do anything about it yet, kitty. Just think on it, okay?” With his free hand, he nudges your glass closer to you, and you notice now the cuts and scrapes on his hands. How rough they look next to yours, more conspicuous when his knuckles brush up against your hand gripped tight around the glass. “Drink up. I’ll take you home after this one.”

#cod mw2 #ceil writing #cod x reader #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap x you #soap x reader

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your-neighbor-in-the-northblue · 7 months

Note

monster trio + ace and shanks reactions when reader got pms and gets really sensitive and angry?

Monster Trio + Ace and Shanks With A Reader Suffering From PMS

➼ Word Count » 1.2k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Hurt/Comfort, Romantic/Platonic

Luffy

You're silly if you think you're gonna get competent care from him. Don't get me wrong, he's worried for you, but he has nowhere near the level of understanding that the others on this list would have.

He'll shove you down into your bed, throw a blanket over you, and tell you to rest while he goes and fishes something up for you. (he'll be in such a rush he won't even run it by Sanji first, so you'll be getting it raw).

He tries his best to not set you off in any way like he'll literally tip-toe around you and act like he's approaching a whole ass lion just because he thinks it'll help. All it manages to do is make you cast confused glances in his direction.

He always forgets that you're suffering with this, but the second he notices your shift in attitude, it'll click for him, and he'll start obnoxiously shushing everyone and asking if you're alright.

The one thing that he's always consistent with is hugging you. Whenever he finds you sobbing or angry, he'll just come over and embrace you before locking you in with Chopper or one of the girls because he's fearing for his life.

Luffy isn't the best to be around when you're feeling PMS symptoms. He'll most likely be the one triggering them.

All jokes aside, he genuinely is worried about you and only wants the best. You tell him what you need, and he'll be sprinting out of the room to get it done.

Zoro

He, honest to God, has no clue what PMS is or why you're feeling the way you are, but he'll do his absolute best to fix it. Especially when it comes down to mood swings.

He'll have you exercise with him. Nothing big, just a few squats or sit-ups to vent that emotion out, and if you happen to be parked at an island, he'll offer to go on a walk with you around the town.

If he notices you getting irritated by something (Luffy) he'll wordlessly offer you some of his alcohol to soothe the rage inside of you.

He's not very good at helping you out with the sensitive aspect. He's fairly blunt in his everyday life and won't really know when or how to hold back when he should, but you'll get an awkward pat on the back if you do start to tear up a bit.

Zoro will be quick to yell at the others if he notices you seeming overwhelmed or exhausted, but that's it, he won't go out of his way to tuck you in or anything.

He's one of those people who just tough through the pain so that's kinda his advice to you whenever you're feeling like shit. Not helpful by any means, but practical at times.

He's a lot better than Luffy because he actually has somewhat of an idea of what he's doing, but it's still probably better to go to any of the others here.

Sanji

He's guiding you straight into your room the second you tell him, or he notices how you're feeling. He REFUSES to let you stand up here and feel shitty or however else, especially when he's right there, and he can do something to help you out.

Once he succeeds in getting you to lie down, he'll go to the kitchen and get you a bunch of fruits to help balance out everything going on in your body, and will 100% be pouring you a cup of tea/coffee.

He doesn't mind when you get severe mood swings, in fact, he's probably the best on this list at calming you down and making you feel normal again. He does it so quickly too, like he always knows exactly what to say.

If you start feeling more sensitive, then he'll start talking softer to you and tenderly rubbing your shoulder to help soothe you and get you to relax. If you start feeling pissed over something, then he'll immediately go out and take care of whatever it is that's making you upset. Baby boy is ready to defend you the moment he senses the need too.

He'll always be there to lend an ear and listen to you rant or hear about what's bothering you because he would be willing to go and fix it if he could.

He has everything you could ever need and would take all the time you needed to spoil you and shower you with affection and care.

Ace

Painkiller, painkillers, painkiller, bro is STOCKED with painkillers. Whenever Dadan felt this way, she always took hoards of Tylenol and would just pass you bottle after bottle until you were satisfied.

Ace has a very vague understanding of the entire thing, but he is desperate to make a 'good impression' as he calls it, so you'll be getting his most luxurious treatment.

This usually means that he'll take the time to give you a massage or something nice like that, but not take the time to just go ask Marco what the best course of action SHOULD be. But, hey! Maybe the massage helps!

He has a hard time trying not to make little jokes every now and then, which will no doubt annoy you, but he promises to stop when you begin to yell at him.

He also makes it a point to sneak out snacks for you even when Thatch tells everyone to not do that.

At the end of all the trial and error, he'll wrap his arms around you, bury his head into the back of your head, and fall straight to sleep. What better remedy than to pass out completely?

He does feel bad for you, he just tries to cheer you up in his own way rather than the recommended way.

Shanks

Get your drinking shoes on 'cause Shanks' one and only remedy is to down a bottle like it's your last and deal with the side effects in the morning (usually means more drinking).

He'll throw his arm around you and tell you to enjoy yourself. Don't stress or think too hard about anything, he and the crew will handle it, just relax.

If you begin to get irritated with all the partying and noise that he and the others will no doubt be causing, he'll laugh a bit before pulling you in to join them. What's there to be mad about with all this booze lying around? With so much to celebrate for?

On the other hand, however, if you're feeling more emotional, Shanks will waste no time taking you to a more secluded part of the ship to hush you and calm you down. He'll wipe your tears with his sleeve and ensure no one bothers you as you lie down.

He cares enough to get you situated, but you have to understand that you're on a ship with a bunch of drunks who have no idea what it's like. They all just try to make jokes to lighten your mood and pray that it's an actual cure.

One thing Shanks does do is talk to you. He'll find you, sit beside you, and just let you vent to him, or if you're not feeling talkative, he'll ramble on about something random to you to distract you or simply just get you to smile.

He means well and takes your symptoms very seriously, he just can't help but have a bit of fun with you occasionally.

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cvsmixnaya · 1 year

Text

aot cast with an art student partner

pairings: various!aot x art student!reader

pronouns: none used but its gender neutral.

a/n: these are for my art babes out there. coming from an art student which is me‼️ i’ll do fashion next cause i’m into that too😋 enjoy this random ass headcanon. also the middle pic is my art hehe

eren

he’s more of a music guy but art and music go hand in hand and i’m here for it. hell he’ll even play tunes on his guitar while you’re working on art projects cause it’s so relaxing. if he’s not playing on the guitar he’ll play music on a speaker and just sit with you and watch you work. sometimes you two are fighting over what song to play it’s actually hilarious. you will want lana del rey and he will want post malone. yall take turns to play music but you both can agree on arctic monkeys. this guy won’t admit but he loves watching you do your art. he just loves how focused you look. overall he can be a jackass cause it’s eren but you two get along perfectly because like i said, music and art go hand in hand

armin

you guys just don’t understand how much i love this man OH MY GOD. he admires you and your artwork so so much he keeps complimenting you and you just look at him like ‘🥹’ ok idk if it’s just me but it’s always the art students or any kind of design student that has such good fashion and that’s what armin also loves so much about you. he loves all the different outfits you pull off he literally said “you are the definition of ‘wear the dress don’t let the dress wear you” like OMG???? KISS ME??? but this guy does not like it when you stay up late working on art projects and consuming a shit ton of caffeine. he forces you to go to bed and work on it the next day cause he cares about your health and you cannot stop him. He loves watching you work and if you needed anything while working he will get it for you. in general he’s such a cutie and a sweetheart and i love him sm and if anyone hurts him, it’s over for you

mikasa

i feel like she would be an art student too so she understands the work and stress that goes down in assignments and tests. occasionally you two would sit together and work on your assignments together but most of the time yall prefer doing it separately. it’s nothing personal but you two agreed that nothing would get done so it’s better to do your thing alone. mikasa honestly admires your creativity so much and is just so impressed by your talent. she’s just so proud of you she’ll be like “that’s my partner!!” but plzzz i beg you to compliment her art because it makes her so happy that you think she has potential when she really does :(( sometimes you sit at starbucks with her and go over some ideas and brainstorm together, showing rough ideas while drinking iced coffee

levi

he really loves the quietness in the room with some music playing through the speaker connected to your phone. it’s not anything loud or chaotic. mainly cigarettes after sex cause it’s giving levi so much. he tends to give some suggestions with your work on how it can be better and most of the time they’re actually helpful and you look at him with squinted eyes wondering if he’s secretly an art student. he likes you watch you work while he drinks his tea and you drink your iced coffee or redbull (i love redbull sm). at night however, oh god. you love art so much that you’re willing to stay up till 2 am drawing random things and it’s not even an assignment. this man is DRAGGING you to bed and your literally just fighting for your life to go back and finish that sketch but he makes you sleep and you get so pissed about it but fall asleep when your head hits the pillow😭

hange

they’re like armin but with some extra energy. they are genuinely so curious with what you work on and what kind of materials you use. if you’re working on a canvas they love seeing how well you use acrylic paints and mix them to make a new colour and they find it so aesthetically pleasing and they don’t know why. they just stare at you like a god/goddess with heart eyes. they love it so much they asked you to teach them basics. you of course said yes but poor hange just could not understand what was happening i feel so bad for them. you both came to the conclusion that hange was not made for art but they still admire it.

porco

this bastard literally teases you but you know he means well. he actually helps around a lot which shocks you. if you needed something, he will speed run to get whatever you need. let it be water, paint, tissue. whatever it is, he suddenly becomes a track star and gets what you need. even though he teases you, he loves what you do knowing damn well he can’t do it. he does tend to distract you though just so you can pay attention to him while you’re working and you just look at him like ‘boy wtf-’ but in the end, he’s so proud of you and he does love you. he just likes to make fun of you but dw he’s a sweetheart and doesn’t mean it. he just has ego issues PFFTT

live laugh love art😇‼️‼️

#mikasa x you #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #eren yeager x reader #mikasa x reader #hange zoe x reader #aot imagines #levi x reader #porco x reader #art #armin arlet x reader

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bookish-whore · 2 years

Note

omg could i request a fluffy fic where reader is always falling asleep on azriel or cassian (you can choose bc tbh there both 10/10) because reader always feels safe around their mate etc 🥰 idk if this would fit better as head cannons or just fic format so whatever is easier! Thank you!!

Azriel x Reader / Cassian x Reader

Words: 1k

A/N: Thanks for the ask! I chose to do some little headcanons for napping with both Cass and Az. I love both of them and couldn’t choose between my boys. Hope you like it! <3

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Azriel:

This man loves a good book, I think that you would find him in the library with a cup of coffee or tea.

He would see you and immediately open his arms, and you would fully just collapse on his chest, and rest your body between his knees. Bringing your arms around his middle and taking in his scent (I feel like Az always smells good).

He would tuck your head into his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head. He is all about affection and being affectionate towards you.

He would ask you questions about your day, just wanting to talk to you and hear your voice. He loves your voice.

I think with his mate he would be all about sweet names “darling, sweetheart, baby” all the pet names <3

I think that Az would hum to you, and because your head rests on his chest it’s a comforting sound and you can feel the vibrations of his deep voice while he does. And his laugh, this man has such a sexy laugh (convince me I’m wrong, you can’t)

He would be rubbing small circles along your back, just needing to touch you (I feel like physical touch would be his love language).

He would just watch you sleep, for hours loving the way your breaths even out and your body relaxes and the little sounds you make when you’re dreaming

He would absolutely use his shadows to make sure nothing disturbed you. trying to keep the house quiet

Cass would probably storm in for some reason and wake you up. Az would be pissed about it (this man holds a grudge) and next sparring session he would give it to Cassian as revenge.

Alternative to Cass: You slept peacefully for hours, and he would gently scoop you in his arms, hooking one arm under your knees and the other on your back, resting your head on his shoulder while he carries you to bed.

He would absolutely tuck you in and press a kiss to your forehead before lying next to you.

You absolutely hog the sheets, but he doesn’t mind he just pulls you close to him. He is all about the cuddling, he loves to be the big spoon (because of his wings but also because he feels like he’s protecting you)

Cassian:

Cassian is such a big baby; you can’t convince me that this man doesn’t do grabby hands to motion you over.

His love language in my opinion is quality time, I think he would literally just follow you around like a lost puppy. He might not like what you’re doing but he wants to help you with literally any menial task.

You would find him in the kitchen, he does grabby hands to get you within reach before lifting you onto the counter to kiss you.

THIS MAN IS 6’7 HE WOULD ABSOLUTELY WANT TO GET THINGS OFF THE TOP SHELF FOR YOU. He would also purposefully put things out of reach, so you need him. In this case you want tea which he put out of your reach.

He would make you say please before he did anything, this man is all about the words (hence why he is a dirty talk GOD) he would make you ask nicely for what you want

You would cave and ask nicely, and he would reach to grab the tea container, he would also immediately insist on making the tea for you and send you to your shared bedroom

He would bring a cute little tray with snacks and tea (with sugar and milk)

He likes cuddling, but he wants you to lie on your back and he would lie on top of you resting his chin on his hands on your stomach and he would just look at you

He would also love to watch you read (quality time) he wants to just be around you, even when you’re reading. He would enjoy just silence as long as he got to be around you

He would sometimes sit you between his legs, your back to his chest while you read your books and he would rub soothing circles on your arms, would kiss your neck and entice you to do more fun things with your time

He would want you to play with his hair, he finds it relaxing and it reminds him of his mother when he was a small child (my poor traumatized baby) when you do play with his hair it doesn’t take long for him to pass out.

If you fall asleep before him, he will take care of you (bookmark your page, gently place the book on the nightstand, tuck you in)

Sidenote, in like a Modern AU Cass would absolutely be the kind of partner who would do your nighttime skincare routine for you if you were drunk or passed out.

He is 100% the blanket/sheet hog, he would steal them so you are forced to cuddle closer to him (and in turn he gets to hold you so win win)

#thanks for the ask!#azriel x reader #cassian x reader #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar series #bookish-whore #headcanon

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p4latinus · 2 years

Text

loading screen... | genshin characters [fluff headcanons]

characters: [all characters are aged up to 21+] thoma, jean, kaedehara kazuha, kamisato ayaka, gorou, albedo, zhongli, keqing, tartaglia, diluc, kujou sara, raiden ei, ningguang, xiao, yanfei, yae miko, kaeya, arataki itto, hutao, beidou, kamisato ayato, scaramouche, venti, eula, ganyu, yanfei, lisa, yelan, shenhe, sangonomiya kokomi, yoimiya

genre: fluff headcanons

tw: !sfw, gn reader, swearing, non-implied nsfw (fully sfw), mentions of toxic gamers

cosiest setups. maybe with a few succulent plants, but definitely some tiny figurines lying here and there. really organised yet clustered desk. minimal colour schemes. always have an extra chair tucked under the desk with your favourite pillow or plush toy. would play relaxing games with you such as animal crossing, calico, terraria. always has the playlist you made switched on during gaming sessions, whether you are here or elsewhere. loves it when you would slip into the gaming room with a mug of hot coffee/tea. sometimes would sketch or doodle pictures of you or make picrew avatars for the both of you. would definitely set it as their twitch, discord or social media icons. streams on twitch every now and then, but would rather focus on gaming with you. it’s a lot more private and intimate. cries during emotional quests and stories in front of you so please give them a hug :-( literally looks at you for reassurance that there will be a happy ending or some good out of it. “thank you for comforting me, i love you” and they will always love you unconditionally.

— thoma, JEAN, kaedehara kazuha, KAMISATO AYAKA, gorou, ALBEDO, keqing, yoimiya

invests a lot in gaming. built their own pc, and definitely will build yours including a table, the gaming chair - everything you need for top quality gameplay. plays a variety of games. doesn’t have a favourite, but will like whatever you pick or enjoy. occasionally or regularly streams with friends, and especially with you. definitely yells out, “y/n come here, chat wants to see you”. effortlessly good at video games with minimal practice. gets emotionally invested in characters, lore, or competitive rounds/matches so they need your hand on their shoulder when things get too tense. pretty much a clear desk btw. except for the little figurine, mini speaker or controller you bought for their birthday. has pretty light decor and 1 or 2 posters above the monitor. streams privately for you on discord and loves your lil’ reactions. made a private discord server between the both of you. puts their favourite selfies/ootd pics of you there. always feels more confident and/or comforted with you during streams. kisses your cheek when people simp for you. “i’m so lucky to have you”, they whisper in your ear to watch you blush on stream.

— TARTAGLIA, yanfei, KUJOU SARA, raiden ei, ningguang, xiao, DILUC

complete ass wipe (as a joke). toxic troll in almost every lobby. but would definitely turn the swearing and toxicity down a notch when you are around. relatively messy table but will definitely have a picture of the both of you. gets embarrassed when you tell them off for being mean/toxic but secretly loves getting attention from you. deliberately doesn’t want another gaming chair so you would have to sit on their lap. sometimes, they would play horror games just to take a piss on your reactions with jump scares. would occasionally toss the controller at you and ask you to carry the game while they run to the kitchen or bathroom. wouldn’t even help you when they come back but make some annoying remark like, “aww baby y/n missed 3 shots and respawned again?? wow…” with a smug face. super, duper annoying. but will be quick to call anyone out for being harsh/rude to you in lobbies or games. quick with comebacks and the funniest insults. absolutely no one can disrespect you on their watch. “i got you, baby.” and they never fail each time.

— YAE MIKO, KAEYA, arataki itto, hutao, beidou, KAMISATO AYATO, SCARAMOUCHE, venti

doesn’t play video games but will sit patiently next to you, or join your streams on twitch or discord. will definitely offer to be your moderator and pay close attention to hateful/problematic comments. listens diligently about the rules and tips for games. sometimes does their own research so they can learn to play your favourite video games. will be too shy to offer but would hope to impress you with their skills. would give you really educated and helpful responses to better your gameplay. they’ll end up as a walking encyclopaedia and you would learn from them, more than you could ever teach them. definitely your number one fan through thick and thin. “i’m proud of you, dearest.” without fail, you always made them proud.

— EULA, GANYU, lisa, yelan, SHENHE, sangonomiya kokomi, ZHONGLI

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stranger224 · 5 months

Text

Kinky Caption: Tabby Time

Tabby Time

“This was too much” Tabitha thought as she saw the giant plush bear her boyfriend, Matt had sent her as a present, the note on the bow said “For you to snuggle with when I’m out of town”. Tabitha rolled her eyes. Her boyfriend had a habit of sending her gifts that were childish, coloring books, plushies and tea sets with bright colors. He said he wanted her to be able to relax and not have to be a ‘serious whiskey drinking lawyer’ all the time and the gifts were to help her get in touch with her softer feminine side. Tabitha thought he was undermining her and if he wanted a childish doe eye piece of fluff to take care of he should find some bimbo to suck his cock and take his money.

Lacking any better option she dragged the bear into her apartment placing it on the left side of her bed, before getting into bed on the other side placing the bear’s arm under her head she quickly fell asleep.

The next morning Tabitha woke up feeling refreshed and strong. Rolling onto her back she found that sometime during the night she had begun cuddling and spooning the oversized bear getting dressed and ready for work Tabitha found she was so energized she almost didn't need any coffee to get her day going and went out the door with a pep in her step.

“Work is hell” Tabitha thought as she kicked off her heel and poured herself a drink. Walking into her bedroom to change she saw the bear still in her bed where she had left it. She got into bed and pulled the bear around her. It was heavy but the weight wasn't suffocating as she had imagined it would be. Instead it was soothing protective even she decided this bear could stay at least until her boyfriend got back from Hong Kong next week.

As the week went by Tabitha found she was looking forward to bedtime more and more the giant teddy bear becoming the perfect sleeping companion thought it seemed to be bending her to her boyfriend way of thinking on Wednesday she found herself watching cartoons something she had not done in years and on friday she even took out one of the coloring books he had gotten her as she listened to music and drank a glass of wine saturday morning came with some bad news her boyfriend was going to be overseas another two weeks “But daddy” she whined “i miss you” Tabitha’s eyes went wide “Daddy?” she thought he smiled at her “I see you got my gift”

“What are you talking about” she said

The bear: it has a prototype of a speaker I've been working on to plant subliminal messages like this: it's Tabby Time '' At his words a wave of calm washed over Tabitha she could feel her body visabley relax there was nothing to worry about Daddy would take care of everything. She could just color in her book an watch Tv something happy and simple but she had to get changed first she looked at her body these were Tabitha clothes and she wasnt Tabitha she was Tabby she took off the professional blouse make up and pants swapping for a pair of Short shorts and a babydoll tshirt that was almost a crop top on her and spent the rest of the day indulging her every whim she even masturbated twice that made her miss Daddy she wanted him to play with her and to fuck her. That night she went to bed cuddling Mr Bear. He was so soft and comfy and made her feel so yummy. The next morning her phone rang. It was Daddy! She picked it up with glee “Good MOrning Daddy she sang”

“Good Morning Princess Im sorry to do this but Tabitha it's time for work”

Tabitha’s Eyes widened as the hypnotic spell was lifted from her mind anger coursed through her body “What did you do to me you bastard! She yelled.

“Wait just listen to me a second he protested How do you feel”

“Pissed at you beyond words”

“Fair. but how did you sleep last night”

That gave her pause she slept great in fact she cant remember being more relaxed

“I'm sorry for not telling you but I knew you would never agree otherwise and I just wanted you to have a space that was fully relaxed and have no worries a place for your body to heal itself when you need it most.”

“Fine but did you have to make it so childish?”

“I didn't do that part. That was all you, I guess you feel most relaxed as a Little.

“A what?”

“I'll explain more when I get home. You need to get to work, and I need to go to bed but I'll call you Friday.”

The following Sunday Matt entered his apartment and found it a mess. In fact it looked liked a child had been on a rampage for a full two days without supervision. Crayons and cereal were strewn everywhere, the tv was playing some childish Saturday morning cartoon. “Maybe leaving Tabby in charge over the weekend when he wasn't home to supervise had been a bad idea” Matt thought, as he entered the bedroom he found his girlfriend decked out in full childish bimbo wear. A pink bra and a pair of tight pj bottoms with cartoons on them she looked up from the large bear that sat on his side of the bed “Daddy your home” she exclaimed, “Are you ready for Tabby time?” .

#bimbotf #bimbotransformation #tfcaption #hypnosis

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jarofstyles · 3 years

Note

For mafia harry, I just love the fact that’s he’s only soft for his girl. So something soft!!!! Plss n thxx

He’s literally so soft for her it’s ridiculous.

Warnings: fluff, talk of murder, mafia type stuff

Check out our Patreon!

—-

It wasn’t uncommon for Harry to come home with bruised knuckles. While he tended to have his men take care of business, he couldn’t help but be hands on sometimes.

When it came to certain motherfuckers, he truly couldn’t help but get in on the action and keep his name at the top of the’ who not to mess with’ list.

But his one and true weakness was sleepy eyed and soft as she stepped into his arms. He had gotten home from some business only an hour ago and put on the coffee pot. Being out all night was not ideal in the slightest, mainly because he had Y/N at home. Before meeting her he could go days at a time without sleep, without even being home. But having a woman he loved so deeply in his bed, who truly adored him and looked past his very unusual career path. She was so giving to him, with her time, energy, body, affection. He had hit the jackpot when it came to women and he knew all to well. So did anyone else.

It took a lot to get a man like Harry soft. He was hard and jagged around the edges. Throwing a punch or getting rid of someone wasn’t a big deal to him. Then Y/N stumbled into his life by accident and he found the heart he had covered with ice melted into a puddle of mush that she hand shaped in her own form. It was comical at times to see his attitude change when she would walk into the room.

“H?” She whispered sleepily. She shouldn’t be awake, but her body had somehow known her hero was home. While Y/N was well aware of his faults and his dangerous job and tendencies? He fiercely protected and cared for her. Provided for her. Gave her a home and a best friend and loved wrapped into one. No one was perfect, but Harry was perfect for her. “Where were you all night?” His stomach twinged with guilt as he pulled her into his chest, large hand cupping the back of her head and keeping her body close to his.

“M’so sorry, angel.” He whispered, pressing multiple kisses to her hairline. “We found one of the rats.” He grumbled, making Y/N freeze. Her head pulled up from his chest and her eyes were a dangerous glint. One that, quite frankly? Made him hard. As soft and gentle as Y/N is, she had come to take Harry and his men as family. You fuck with them? You fuck with her.

“And you took care of it?” Her tone was low, Harry still shocked at how fierce his little angel could be. How protective. She made them cookies and tea and brought sweets to the underground clubs, but was willing to put someone on their ass if they hurt Harry. It was fucking hot.

“Y’know I did, sweet girl. M’always taking care of my people.” He was cut off by her lips pressing to his jaw, her head tucking back into his neck. It was early and she hadn’t slept well. Y/N usually didn’t when it came to Harry being out and doing dangerous things. Her sleep schedule had been the worst it’s been since dating him, but it was the easiest sacrifice to make because she was getting to be in his arms. When he was home?

She got the best sleep of her entire life. Especially after getting dicked down.

“Know you do.” She relaxed, hand running over his broad back. The shirt was slightly damp form his sweat but she didn’t mind. The skin under was hot and it did get her mind going to think about how sexy he looked when he was mad. As long as it wasn’t at her? It went straight to her cunt.

Okay. Maybe even when it was at her. But it was very hard to make him angry at her. He was 100% a pushover for his girl. Y/N was the only one ever allowed to raise her voice at him.

The first time it had happened around others, they’d all nearly choked. Harry had ate the last of the cookie butter, which Y/N had been saving. It actually pissed her the fuck off, and not realizing he was in a meeting she had stormed down the hallway with her volume on 10. The girl wasn’t one too raise her voice often, but Harry knew how to push her buttons.

“Harry fucking Styles! You better hope to god you’re busy because I’m going to shove this jar up your ass!” She seethed, the stomping of her feet making everyone’s eyes widen. The men he worked closely with usually had a softer version of her. But it was earlier in the day, not their normal time, and gathered in the office in Harry’s large home.

Harry froze, realizing what it was and winced as he watched the door fly open. There, in all her big shirt, no pants and freshly woken glory was his beautiful Y/N. Empty jar in hand. Her eyes cut around the room but the fury she felt was too deep. This was personal!

Of course, they all were tense because No One talks to Harry Styles in a tone like that and got away with it. The shock that crossed their faces when Harry sheepishly got up and crossed the room, hushing her and trying to approach her like a wounded puppy was pure and utter insanity. The big man who always had a straight face, mean punches that knocked out cold, little regard for most people and took care of many a week was letting his woman talk to him like that.

“M’sorry, baby, I meant to get more but we called an emergency-“ he was cut off by a single hand raising, lips snapping closed as he watched his little love step closer to him.

“If you aren’t ready to go to Trader Joe’s in the next 15 minutes….” Her eyes narrowed. “You’ll be cut off.” And Harry knew exactly what that meant.

No sex.

There was no way he was risking that.

“Okay, okay.” He raised his own hands in surrender. “M’gonna finish up. Go get ready, we’ll take the Audi.”

They all learned that day that you didn’t mess with Y/N’s food, and Harry Styles only had one singular weakness.

Granted, Harry never was ashamed of it. He always said that his woman was half of his strength. She didn’t need him, but he needed her. Harry loved her so wholly and deeply that he knew that she was it for him. He had bought an engagement ring only 2 months in. So no, he didn’t ever deny it.

If anyone ever tried to use Y/N against him, they ended up in the river. Or in several pieces. He had very little restraint over that, considering all threats he took very, very seriously. The one light in his life was something he kept close, protected, and loved.

“Why don’t we go shower n’then we sleep? Hm? M’sorry to keep you up late, angel.” He puckered his lips down at her to be met with a soft peck, nodding her head at the idea. “And then we can make some ‘brunch’, whatever you call it.”

It got a laugh out of her, so he considered it a win.

“Mhm. If you thought I was letting you into our clean sheets smelling like guns and sweat. It’s sexy for dirty sheets but I’m simply too tired. Got the new ones I got online too.” She sighed, playfully teasing him because she knew it would get him to smile. He saw horrors every day, and if she could get some silliness in him it would lessen his stress.

“Oi. Don’t be callin’ me smelly, little girl.” He pinched her cheek, obnoxious kissing her mouth. “Better get your ass up there and get naked so we can pass out. M’Gonna need those pretty hands helping me wash, I fear… I’m a dead man walking.” He was dramatic, obviously overtired and it got a giggle from her.

“In your dreams, Mafia Man. Let’s move.”

“You’re right, I do dream about that.”

#writing #harry styles one shot #jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #mafia harry #mafiarry #mafia Harry styles #gangrry #gang!harry #gang Harry styles #blurb #blurbs #fluff blurbs #Harry Styles blurbs

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girls4keigo · 3 years

Text

A Bird Whisperer’s Guide to Fighting Villains and Falling in Love | Hawks x Hero!Reader

Summary: Hawks needs help to defeat an upcoming hero attack in Tokyo. What better hero to ask than the one he’s been crushing on for months

Warnings: F!Reader, Hero!Reader, Fluff, Cursing

Reader plays hard to get. Reader has a nature quirk and can control natural elements and talk to animals. Reader is a popular hero

a/n: hi! this is my first post i hope you all enjoy! :)

————

You sighed, trying to keep your composure while talking to a bunch of big name heroes. The fundraiser events that your agency made you go to were unbearable. Standing around for hours listening to the most mundane heroes try to impress you with their line of work. But hey, if it helps boost approval ratings I guess it’s not that bad.

For the past year you’ve slowly been climbing the ranks of the hero world. With a powerful quirk and unique fighting styles it was hard to go unnoticed. By now you were familiar with how the industry treated female heroes. It seemed as if the general public cared about anything but your hero duties.

It was all love, relationships, “Who are you dating?”, “What’s your skincare routine?”

You honestly didn’t expect any different but geez, it sure did piss you off. And now that you were in the top 3, you weren’t expecting any of it to die down. Might as well just get used to it.

You continued to chat when suddenly your ear twitched as you sensed a certain birdie approaching.

Oh God.

“Hey. Mind if I steal ya away for a little?” Hawks’ signature smirk appeared on his face as he approached you.

Hawks seemed to really be latching onto you for quite some time, well since the new hero rankings were announced. You were on your way to surpassing the number 2 hero and had gained a lot of notoriety in the past couple of months.

He was clingy for sure, always play flirting, inviting you to lunch, showing up at your agency unannounced. It was obvious that he was just trying to get a reaction out of you. You’d be surprised if he admitted to actually having feelings for you. Well, not that you cared anyways. Your job was to save civilians, defeat villains, and do things that any other normal hero would. Love was simply not on your agenda.

Holding back a heavy sigh, you complied and stepped off to the side with Hawks.

He seemed delighted by your decision, using his feathers to fetch you a glass of champagne off of one of the caterer’s trays as you two walked over to the bar area.

“So your agency makes you come to these lame things too, huh?”

You didn’t answer, not very interested in the direction that the conversation was going in.

“You look nice.” He bit his lower lip, dragging his eyes vertically across your figure.

“Thank you.” You replied, taking a sip of your champagne.

After you both had made your way over to the bar he instructed his order to the bartender, asking you if you wanted anything and keeping the same dumb smirk on his face when you denied.

“Rarely ever see you in a color other than green. I mean, I guess it’s your entire thing but I really dig this red look you’ve got goin’ on” He mused, as he watched the bartender carefully make his drink.

He wasn’t lying. He’s been eyeing you since you walked in, you look good.

“What do you want, Hawks?” You asked, visibly annoyed.

“Damn.” He chuckled, “Small talk isn’t your thing, noted.”

You side-eyed him, getting impatient with his overly relaxed demeanor.

Catching the hint, he got straight to the point. “There’s some trouble going on in Tokyo.”

Now you were intrigued. You took another sip of your champagne, “Petty villain attacks like always, isn’t it?”

You turned towards him, he got a good look at your face before he answered.

Fucking pretty, he thought to himself.

“That’s what I thought at first but it’s getting harder to believe that as I do more digging.” He looks around before inching closer to you, trying to keep his volume to a minimum. “The League is planning something big next week. The ‘Rain of Terror’, they’re callin’ it. They’re trying to ease the amount of big attacks in the city to let our gaurds down. And frankly, I think it’s working.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “How do you know all of this?”

“I’ve got connections,” Was all he said, with a shrug.

Ok, whatever. You’ll confront him about that later. “And this ‘Rain of Terror…’ what does it entail?”

“Bombs.”

“Shit,” You muttered.

“Big ones. Huge ones, actually. I don’t know how the fuckers did it but they found a way to make these huge, bioengineered clouds that ‘rain’ bombs.”

You grew uneasy. Raining bombs? Over the entirety of Tokyo? The amount of destruction it would do to the earth, to civilians, made you panic. Hawks sensed your uneasiness but continued anyways, “I want us to team up. Your quirk would be useful with the entire controlling nature n’ weather thing.”

He loosened up from his serious expression, talking a bit louder and showing a teethy smile, “Plus I think we’d make a pretty good team. I’ve already got a plan so we’ll meet up at yours tomorrow.”

“As in my house? Why not anywhere else?” You questioned.

“Well,” He grabbed his drink and used his free hand to rub the back of his heck, “This isn’t really the typa thing we can talk about in public. Mass hysteria, panic, that type of thing. And my living situation is pretty…complicated right now.”

You felt a small tap on your shoulder, followed by the voice of your high school aged sidekick. You turned to the younger hero. “Uh..Y/N? It’s time to go. I gotta be back by 11.”

You sighed before turning back to Hawks.

“Kids and their curfews, right?” He commented.

“Fine. I’ll have my agency send you my address. Don’t come during the day.” That was the last thing you said before finishing your drink all in one quick sip and making your way to the exit. You could feel his eyes on your backside until you left the venue. And the singular scarlet feather rushing in front of you to open the car door for you was really the cherry on top.

You rolled your eyes.

“Woah.” Your sidekick mused, “He seems to really like you. You should give him a chance, he’s hot.”

You giggled at her comment, “He doesn’t really like me, y’know? He flirts with every female hero.”

—

You heard a slight tap on the window leading up to your balcony. You already sensed him flying towards you when he was about a mile away, but your bedroom? Reluctantly you walked over and opened the sliding door.

“Never heard of a front door?”

“Well that’s no fun, is it?” He said, displaying his signature smirk. You looked cute out of your hero clothes. Hair tied up and messy, and in big comfy clothes.

Adorable, he thought to himself. He walked in as if it was his own befroom, slipping off his shoes, gloves and jacket and placing them in the corner of your room.

“Make yourself comfortable I guess.” You deadpanned at him, “And we’re still going downstairs anyways.” He shrugged.

He couldn’t help but be taken aback by the layout of your room. There were plants in almost every corner, on every shelf. Vines growing on your walls, half read books strewn across your bedside table and dresser, your pet birds of all different shaped and sizes flew freely around your room, chirping every once in a while. “So you’re a bird whisperer, huh?” He said, looking around.

“I’m an animal whisperer.” You said, “That’s kind of like my entire thing.”

He let out a hearty laugh before making his way out of your room.

“Tea?” You asked, heading towards the kitchen as the winged hero made himself comfortable on your couch.

“Sure.” He picked up your remote with one his feathers, flicking through the channels.

He turned his attention to you a couple moments later as you took a seat across from him at your coffee table, setting down two mugs of green tea.

He explained his plan carefully, paying close attention to all details and pausing for any questions you might have. You had to admit, as much as an annoying asshole this guy could be, he knew what he was doing. You could tell he plans his strategies very carefully, as much as he likes to come off as lazy and laid back to the general public. He was a damn good hero. And you hated admitting it but he was right, utlizing his speed and your ability to control weather, it wouldn’t be all that hard to stop villain attacks.

Hawks also couldn’t help but admire you. You seemed attentive, always paying close attention to detail and asking a lot of questions. I mean he already knew you were good at your job, watching some of the viral videos of your fights with villains.

—

When the day finally came, it went as smoothly as planned, of course with a little bumps along the way. Still, the few civilians that were hurt only had minor injuries, and you and hawks made it so only a couple bombs hit the ground.

You, Hawks, and some other minor heroes who had joined mid-battle regrouped to talk about how to resolve the collateral damage.

“It’s not too much to be honest, I’ll have it all repaired by midni-“

“Wow! What an incredible display of courage from Hawks and Mother Nature, currently sitting at number 2 and number 3 of Japan’s Hero BillBoard Chart!” A loud reporter exclaimed, accompanied by a camera crew.

Of course.

You tried your best to ignore and keep talking to fellow heroes until a microphone was shoved in your face. The face of the reporter gleamed as she talked to you. “Tell me Mother Nature, how does it feel working with number 2 hero Hawks?” You winced at the question, but answered nevertheless.

“Hawks is a diligent hero with a lot of experience under his belt despite being so young. It was great working with him.” You answered, forcing a smile on your face.

“There’s speculation that you two planned this together..is this true? How were you able to predict this attack? More importantly, are you two dating?” Those questions hit you like a truck.

“Um..no comment.” Was all you could answer with.

Nevertheless, the reporter persisted, “Well there has to be something going on. It’s just my opinion but you two seem perfect for each other.” She giggled at the camera, “Please! The public is dying to know!”

Before you could even muster up an answer to the reporter’s overwhelming question, a giant scarlet wing came between you and the reporter, blinding both her and the camera from your view.

“Hey. She said she doesn’t wanna talk about it. Let’s respect personal boundaries, yeah?” Hawks said in a nice but slightly defensive tone.

You blushed, looking up at him. As nice we he was trying to sound, he looked angry. And damn right he was. How dare they talk to you like you’re no more than just some D-list celebrity? You’re a fucking hero, who cares about dating speculation when you just saved Japan’s largest city? And how dare they ask questions about him when you were the one doing most of the work. He was enraged, and it was his natural instinct to protect the thing he cared for.

Before you knew it, he latched his arms around your waist, pushing you into his chest.

You were flustered. “What are you-“

“Let’s go.” Was all he said before flapping his wings, sending you guys soaring through the air.

You held on to him for dear life, damn was he fast.

Hawks smirked to himself, feeling your rapid heartbeat against his chest. You were trying your best to hide your blushing by burying your face in his neck, granted that probably made it worse because he could already tell by how hot your face was.

God, she’s adorable

As soon as you two landed on top of a building, you pushed him away as quickly as possible.

He chuckled, putting both of his hands up in defense, “You’re the one making this awkward y’know? Plus you owe me for saving your ass.”

You were angry. Was it because of the downright rude questions that the reporter asked you not too long ago, was it because you knew tabloids would be posting all about you and Hawks for the next couple of days, was it because you were..warming up to that damned bird?

And then you started. “Just so you know, this..us..is not a thing. It will never be a thing. I wish you’d just stop flirting with me all the damn time. Just move on to the next female hero. I actually don’t care what you do. Just leave me alone. I don’t understand why you have to be so clingy, it’s annoying.”

Hawks did nothing but smile, listening to you ramble.

“You know…I-“ He interjected, only to be interrupted by you.

“And geez, you’re so goddamn entitled. I owe you? I don’t owe you anything. I didn’t even need your help. You’re no different from any other guy, you’re fucking insuffer-“

Hawks shut you up with a gentle kiss on your lips.

Oh.

“You talk too much.” He said in a low whisper, before pulling on your chin to kiss you again. You kissed him back, resting your hands on his chest, completely indulging in the moment.

Fuck. Your knees were weak. As much as you wanted to keep going you pulled away, blushing furiously and refusing to make eye contact with him.

“Oh? So now you’re shy?” He chuckled, pulling you closer to him. He tried to catch your gaze but you just moved your head away from him each time.

“Someone might see us. This is bad,” You were able to muster out.

“You’re so fucking cute.” He said, making you blush even more. He continued, “I don’t flirt with you for no reason, y’know? Sure, sometimes it’s just to tease..but I think you’re amazing.”

You felt like you were melting in his arms. Unable to find the right words, you panicked. You were gone in seconds, manipulating the wind so it could carry you back home, the same stupid blush unable to leave your face.

“Call me!” He yelled.

That damn bird.

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rose-likesto-write · 2 years

Text

Stray Kids Headcanon

Them as cold boyfriends:

A/N:- Hey, fam.. so sorry for the delay. My work is purely fictional and doesn't give or suggests that the boys may act out like this. I hope you will all like it! I am sorry that the GIFs don't meet the criteria of the story..

It will be member wise :")

Bang Chan

• Percentage of the cold personality 80-90%

• Gives the kinda intimidating vibes or the you shouldn't piss me off

• Mysterious guy

• Blank/Emotionless looks and expressions

• Short replies

• Listens more than speaking

• If looks could kill, majority of people would have died

• Doesn't like people to poke their nose into his business even if it's like a harmless and just a friendly one.

•Thats why he doesn't like to meet new people.

•Rude person is what others call him

• The first time he saw you.. he felt different. He felt calm and that your vibes called you as a 'home' to him for being himself.

• You two had several eye contacts or maybe one or two due to some work or something.

• You had developed a crush on him and your heart accelerated at 200 km/hr speed because that's how you felt. At first you thought it maybe because of his vibes but you were wrong.

• When he confessed to you it felt like more of a forced dare or something but you knew enough that he was genuine and sincere

• Very slowly and calmly trying his best to adapt and show that he is putting his efforts as well

• At first as usual gives short replies or Sometimes simply as yes or no to what you are talking about.

• He always appreciated the fact that you always have him the space and time to talk or answer. Even if he had a bad day, you at first gave him some time to relax and me space till you felt that now it's necessary to talk even he would speak less or give a very short answer.

• Making him a drink or gently playing with his hair or motivating him that things will go well, really helped him alot and he was thankful for it.

• Now, tries to speak like in a few sentences and maybe initiates the conversation.

• Doesn't show but he genuinely cares for the people he loves especially you.

• Doesn't let you know but you always make his heart flutter and a small goofy smile adorns his face.

• Does very little-little things to show he cares and his appreciation for you even if you might fail to notice but he is happy just to see you smiling like a child.

• Indirectly asks or maybe sometimes does things which makes you ask him to hug and cuddle with him.

• Internally screams when his plan gets accomplished of hugging you or cuddling you to sleep.

• Since he knows you sleep a bit heavy than him, takes his chance to admire you and kisses your forehead, temples and cheeks.

• Even though tempeted enough to kiss your lips, he doesn't do it but once he does it.

• He will giggle like a child and will continuously peck or softly kiss you till he feels you are moving and stops in his tracks.

• Wishes you a good morning and makes you tea/coffee/hot chocolate

• Doesn't gets jealous that easily but enough is enough especially when he feels that you are either being too kind/polite to rudely reject or too innocent to understand the other person's moves.

• Hugs you in public when he gets jealous or possessive and may give you kisses on cheeks, holds hands.

• Calls you by your name as he loves it the way it comes out but that doesn't mean that he won't call you names like sweetheart, baby, princess out of nowhere or to make you red.

• Doesn't wanna admit but he lives for to make you red as a tomato, hold your hands in his

• Low-key likes skinship

• He likes to take to some comfortable and intimate dates.

• Spoils you alot even if you say that there is no need

• Sometimes questions on how did he deserve someone like you while you questioned the same how did you manage to get him.

• Even if you both are opposites in some areas but that doesn't create misunderstandings as you too always have the others back, talking, trying to figure out and especially giving the other space.

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bruhstories · 3 years

Text

Sticky, Saccharine & Sinful

Summary: Professor Jaeger asks his assistant to come over and grade some papers. Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Fem!Reader (modern AU) Warnings & Content: language, protected sex, fingering, oral sex (female & male receiving), spanking, daddy kink, bossy Zeke, bratty Reader, tying up, bit of an age gap but no underage shit (we don’t do that here) Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N: Huehuehue guess who finally wrote a daddy kink smut? Also I have looped Cherry Cola by Kuwada the entire time i wrote, proofread and formatted this bitch, I think it works with the atmosphere

"Y/N, I'm gonna need you to help me grade some papers later today." Professor Jaeger pushed his glasses with his index finger as he looked up from his book.

"You got it, boss!" You nodded as you entered the staff lounge room at Stohess Uni, two cups in your hands.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Zeke?" The man sighed. “Or at least call me professor.”

"But I'm your assistant, you're my superior, that makes you my boss, boss." Sarcasm dripping down your tongue as you placed his coffee down the table. "All black, two cubes of sugar."

"Thank you. And yes, technically I am your boss, but you're, what, six years younger than me?"

"Seven and a half." You pouted.

You've been working at Stohess University for a little over a year now as Zeke Jaeger's assistant. He was the best philosophy teacher, as well as head of the department, and you nailed your internship interview, aspiring to be like him one day. He even taught you Ethics during your masters, and currently you were doing your PhD research under his coordination. The man was a genius in his field, and you didn't dare disappoint him, but your personalities always clashed. He was calm and collected, you were bubbly and all over the place. He was nice and polite, you were sarcastic and rude. Zeke knew you'd make a horrible teacher for children, but undergraduate students would adore you.

"How can you drink hot coffee in this heat wave?" You asked him as you fanned someone's epistemology essay to cool yourself off.

"It's actually been proven that warm drinks hydrate better than cold ones during summertime." He inhaled the scent of freshly brewed coffee before taking the essay out of your hand.

"Whatever you say, boss." You shrugged and gulped on your iced tea, a few glistening amber drops dripping from the corners of your mouth, down your chin and your neck. "Ah, shit." You wiped the tea with the back of your hand, not catching Zeke watching you curiously. "Why did the AC have to break down today of all days?"

"Dunno." He shrugged and immersed himself back into his book. "Oh, I hope you don't mind coming to my place to grade the papers? I don't think you'll be able to focus in this heat. Besides, I want to take a look at your latest PhD chapter." Jaeger told you absentmindedly, eyes glued to the pages in front of him.

"Sure thing–"

"Don't say it."

"Boss."

"Jesus Christ..."

You adored pissing your ex-professor off, but deep down, Zeke couldn't deny the fact that he loved the authority he had over you. You were a very alluring woman, after all, and any sane man would kill to be as close to you as he was, let alone boss you around like he did. And he had the strong feeling you acted like a brat around him on purpose. You took your leave after downing the rest of your beverage, going to the library to borrow some books for your own research.

•°☆°•☆•°☆°•

You rang the intercom and waited for Zeke to let you inside the building, dragging your feet down the hallway, tired from carrying so much shit with you – laptop, books, essays, papers, pens and highlighters – you were a walking, talking stationery shop and one could only wonder how someone with such a petite frame was so strong. Zeke waited in the doorway and took some of your things, relieving the weight as you sighed.

"Coffee?" He guided you to his kitchen.

"Water, please." You plopped on a chair and unbuttoned the first three heart-shaped buttons of your lilac shirt, tiny beads of sweat bundled up at your collarbone.

"You sure? I'll be keeping you up all night." Jaeger laughed. He was obviously talking about the papers, but to you, the sentence had a different innuendo — not that you minded, you had your fair share of sinful fantasies with the older man. Come to think of it, you were wondering why he was single. Zeke was undoubtedly an attractive man, he could have any woman he wanted. Yet you’ve never seen him on a date, never seen a picture of a woman when you accidentally glanced at his phone, never heard him talk about a significant other.

"Hey, mind if I smoke?" You asked, noticing the ashtray on his table.

"Not at all, I'll join you." He sat opposite you, mug of coffee in his hand. You pulled out a pack of pink cigarettes from your backpack and placed one between your lips, pocketing your jeans for a lighter. His hand extended over the table, lighter in his hand, and you slightly bent your head forward, eyes glued to his. You inhaled the smoke, not breaking eye contact, and exhaled with a sigh. Something about Zeke lighting up your cigarette made your little cunt tingle.

"Thanks, boss." The corners of your lips turned into a barely visible smirk. You really, really liked to tick him off.

"Don't mention it." He told you before lighting his own cigarette. What, no comeback? No objection? "How's your paper going?"

"It's... going." You shrugged.

"You haven't written anything in your last chapter, have you?"

"No, I have," you half-whined, "it's just that I can't find my words. I think I encountered writer's block."

"'S alright, we'll figure something out." Zeke pulled a stack of papers from his briefcase and dropped it on the table.

"Wow, no shit you need help, that's a lot of papers." You twirled the cigarette between your fingers before taking one final puff and crushing it in the glass ashtray.

"Told you." He picked his resting cigarette back from the ashtray. "You can do the first years."

"I'd rather do something else." You whispered to yourself, eyes almost rolling at the back of your head.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, boss. First years, got it." Your manicured fingers pulled the stack of papers closer to you. The exams were already annotated according to subject and year and you took everything you needed before shoving them back to Zeke.

•°☆°•☆•°☆°•

You were bored out of your mind, fiddling with the red pen in your hand and tapping your fingers on the table with no particular rhythm. It was already dark outside and you barely finished a quarter of your stack while Zeke was halfway through his.

"Could you please stop that?" He asked you without even bothering to look at you.

"Why?"

"It's annoying."

With a groan you rolled your eyes and stopped tapping your fingers, instead opting to fidget your leg, bouncing it up and down under the table. The wooden furniture shook at the movement and Zeke sighed, putting the pen down.

"I understand you're bored, but if you want to be a professor, this is part of the job description."

"I know, I know, but, like, can we take a break? Please? We've been at it for two and a half hours now and I'm just so bored." You looked at him with puppy eyes and a pout on your plump lips.

"Ugh, fine. What do you want to do?"

"I dunno. Got any board games?"

"Only a pack of playing cards." Zeke shrugged.

"Perfect! Literally anything is better than this. I mean look at what this kid wrote: the ship of Theseus ARE a thought experiment. Can you believe it? How can a nineteen-year-old not know proper grammar?"

"Careful, Y/N," he chuckled, "you made a pretty embarrassing error during your masters, too."

"Nooo, don't bring that up!" You got up and walked to the freezer, scanning the contents.

"Why not? It's funny."

"Yeah, for you." You rolled your eyes. "But I still proved my worth." You triumphantly told him, tongue playfully poking out of your mouth from behind the freezer door. Ugh, you were so cute, made to be ravaged. Your eyes settled on the single raspberry popsicle and you picked it up, closing back the door. "Can I have this?" Oh, he knew exactly what you were doing.

"Of course."

With Zeke's approval, you unwrapped the plastic, revealing the rose-tinted dessert, swirling your tongue around its tip. You were a sight for sore eyes, (not so) innocently licking at the popsicle, your gaze on him and his growing bulge. He didn't even bother hiding it, instead relaxing in the chair and drinking you in. It was no mistake that Zeke invited you over, and you weren't stupid enough to believe it was a mistake.

"Do you... want some?" You trailed off as the once cold dessert began melting from your hot lips.

"If you'd be so kind." He patted his lap and you accepted the invitation. His bulge was comfortably uncomfortable against your ass, and you put the popsicle onto his lips, one arm draped around his shoulder. Zeke's tongue moved languidly around the sweet snack and you leaned in, your own tongue licking both the dessert and his lips. It was sticky and saccharine and sinful, and your poor pussy couldn't take it anymore.

"Do you wanna fuck me, daddy?" You naively asked him. He wasn't surprised in the slightest by the name, already suspecting you had daddy issues, in fact counting on it.

"I very much do." His hands were already roaming your body. The popsicle was almost gone, and you deepthroated the last bit, taking the little stick out of your mouth with a pop. Finally, he crushed his lips onto yours and you could tell he had experience. You dropped the stick on the tiled floor, twisting your body to better straddle him. Zeke unbuttoned your shirt as you slowly began grinding your hips against his bulge, earning a groan from him. "Ugh, you bad girl." He threw his head back as you loosened the tie around his neck.

"Are you going to punish me?" You slowly, too slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

"What’s the point of a punishment if you’re going to enjoy it?" He mused, unclasping your bra. You had goosebumps all over your skin and Zeke took one of your nipples in his hot mouth, a hand pinching your other one. You whimpered at the slight stinging sensation

"Does it m-matter if I enjoy it?" His touch became rougher, almost animalistic.

"Of course," he stopped sucking your swollen, oversensitive nipple, "otherwise you won't learn your lesson." You got up and turned around, your back against him, taking your jeans and underwear off, bending down and exposing your cunt to him. "You're going to be the death of me, Y/N." Zeke shook his head, removing his own trousers.

"Allow me." You tucked your fingers behind the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down as you kneeled in front of him. His throbbing cock tapped your face after finally being unleashed from its textile cage.

"I suspected you were big, but this? This is too good." You sneered at his member, mesmerised by its size.

"Just shut up and suck it." Zeke pretty much commanded you and you wet your lips, pressing your tongue against the velvety tip. You worked your way around his shaft, enjoying this more than you should've. You pulled back, a string of saliva and precum attached to your lips as you looked up at him.

"Am I doing good, daddy?"

"So good." He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pushed your head back. You eagerly sucked and slurped until he got bored of your mouth around his cock. Zeke pulled you up, spun you around and bent you over the table. He brought your wrists together and tied them up behind your back with his tie before taking a step back and admiring the view. Ass up, face down, just like he loved it. His foot pushed yours to the side, spreading your legs for him before he gave you a good slap over your ass cheeks. You shot up with a moan but his hand forced you back down against the table.

"I think I know exactly how to punish you." Zeke announced, two fingers spreading your folds as his tongue dove inside of you, lapping at your wet cunt.

"Oh, God!" You groaned in pleasure. No man has ever eaten you out like he did. Most guys did it as a chore. Zeke? He was enjoying every single bit of it, passionately fingering you, his tongue moving in ways you didn't think were possible. "Ah, fuck– so good! Daddy, please! I'm coming!"

The way he venomously laughed told you that no, you were not going to come any time soon. Just as you were about to let loose, Zeke stopped, removing his fingers, another slap on your ass. Tears pooled at your Y/E/C eyes, frustration written all over your face. "No, no, no!"

"I told you, Y/N, you're a bad, bad girl." He bent over and whispered in your ear, his cock pressing against your entrance, his hand in your hair.

"Oh, pleaseee, I need to come! Will you let me come?"

"Hm, it depends." Jaeger straightened his back, hands resting on your hips. "Did you learn your lesson?"

"Yes, yes, daddy, I did! I promise I'll be good!" You tried to turn around to look at him, oblivious to what he was doing behind your back, cheeks crimson, droplets of sweat on your forehead.

"Convincing enough." He shrugged and you heard the condom snap against his cock. Unexpectedly and without any warning, the man thrusted into your wet cunt and you, again, shot up, but he pinned you back. "Stay fucking put, you little whore." Zeke demanded and you tried, you really tried, but your body had a mind of its own. "I see you refuse to learn."

"No, no, please!" You slammed your face onto the table, squishing your cheek in the process, desperate and helpless.

"That's better." He concluded, sarcasm dripping down his tongue as he rammed his cock deeper into you. The silken walls clenched around his hard member, and he grunted, no other woman pleasing him like your tight pussy did. "You like it when I take you from behind, you filthy slut?"

"Yes– oh my God, YES!" You bucked your hips against his for more pressure and pain.

"What would my students think if they saw you getting fucked like this on their papers?"

"Ah– I don't c-care!"

"What would the headmaster say if she knew you fuck your superior and- ugh- coordinator?" Jaeger thrusted harder and faster.

"Please, Zeke-"

His hand found its way to your neck, tightly squeezing it.

"Wrong name, Y/N."

"Shit, daddy!"

"That's right, I'm your fucking daddy and hell will freeze before someone else fucking touches you!"

"Fuc-k, fuuuck!" You both howled and panted as you climaxed, your entire bodies quivering. Zeke pulled out of you, carefully removing the rubber from his cock and giving you another slap on your perky ass cheeks. You stood up, arms still tied around your back, turned on your heels and pecked him on his cheek, giggling like a schoolgirl, marvelled by the fact that he chose you over anyone else.

"You know what, Y/N? Now that I've found you, I'm never going to let you go." He promised.

"I'm all yours, boss."

#zeke jaeger #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke x reader #zeke smut #aot #aot smut #aot x reader #aot fanfic #snk #snk smut #snk x reader #snk fanfic #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #zekeythefreaky

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leviiattacks · 3 years

Note

Head canons for mafia boss levi being interested in Starbucks barista reader please

note :: this idea is so cute i wrote a scenario i hope you don’t mind. i can still post some headcanons for it too if you really want me to! i’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted me to write anon :-( ALSO this is super casual writing it’s not like the way i usually write it’s just bullet points i mean idk i wanted to try something different and more relaxed lmk if this style is okay for some requests :D

if anyone would like any more requests with this levi please lmk!! i could go in more detail tbh maybe the pacing of this isn’t too good bc it is a short request but yeahhh

+ idk why the formatting looks so odd i tried my best to fix it myself ?!.!/!:£:& but yeah sorry again!!

levi has always been one to keep his business meetings lowkey

i mean, realistically who is going to suspect mafia boss levi is lingering in a starbucks???

the place is well-suited for his hushed meetings, he finds it to be quiet enough and clean enough

but then one winter everything changes

you start working there

he’s waiting in the queue texting erwin asking when he’ll be able to get there

it’s been a RUSH and the traffic is crazy as expected from the bustling city so he doesn’t expect to see erwin for a while

that’s when he hears you for the first time

“HEY!! Mister in the fancy suit it’s your turn to order”

your hands are placed on the counter and you lean forward eagerly waiting for what he has to say

levi rolls his eyes because he thinks you have to be ogling his designer watch and shoes (you really aren’t)

“black tea, no sugar and... a cinnamon swirl” he’ll order for erwin later. “i’ll be eating in.”

“ooohhh you’re a tea guy? name?” you’re smiling at him radiantly and it irks him because you have nothing to be smiling about really

eyes narrowing he responds “no shit, i just ordered tea.”

“and why the hell do you want my name?” he snaps on reflex

he then remembers he’s at a starbucks and you are not interrogating him, you’re doing your job

“sir... this is starbucks?? is this your first time here?”

you blink in confusion but then your face lights up “oh my, would you like to sign up for a starbucks card?? you can collect stars and get rewards and it’s so muc–“

“do i look like i need a starbucks card?”

“everyone looks like they need a starbucks card”

he doesn’t carry on that part of your conversation instead he looks you dead in the eyes “levi, is my name.”

his glare intimidates you and you awkwardly laugh

you think he’s probably having a super bad day and choose to not bother him that much

as he’s waiting he sees the way you clumsily navigate behind the counter, you’re juggling a number of things in your arms

automatically his face sours

he’s not expecting the tea you produce to be any good

he doesn’t care how nice you are if you can’t do what he wants he won’t be leaving a tip

he’s stingy like that

a clatter is heard and all the noise you’re making just makes you all the more aggravating

he’s been coming here for years and never has encountered a barista as bothersome as yourself

at some point you call out the name “SCROOGE!” from behind the counter, levi finds it embarrassing that anyone would ever call their child that

like... out of all the names this is what they choose??

damn they have to hate parenthood

“scrooge i’m begging you collect your drink.”

he looks up pissed that whoever this scrooge is has the audacity to hold you up because that by default means they are holding him up

then he sees you staring directly at him with that warm smile again

yeah, that smile, it could thaw ice

then it settles.

he’s scrooge?

turning around he notices no one is behind him then he sees that no one else is waiting apart from him

jaw clenching he heads towards you and makes it a point to “tsk” in frustration

he takes his cup and his cinnamon roll and you wave him goodbye

usually levi prefers to silently sit in the booth furthest from the action, he wants no attention drawn to him at all

but that day he finds himself sitting closer to the counter

he’s kind of stunned when he does that because he’s just sat there thinking why the hell did i just do that?? why did i sit here??

but he convinces himself it’s because he wants to see erwin when he’s about to walk in so he can prepare to scold him for not arriving on time

he takes a sip of his beverage expecting nothing above mediocirty but weirdly, your brew, it tastes perfect

levi’s eyes linger on you and he notices the way your behaviour is consistent

you’re helping an old woman pick what she’d like from the menu

you compliment her jumper, says it really makes her blue eyes stand out

you don’t have to be as nice as you are and it’s ticking him off

it ticks him off seeing someone so pure and sweet for no reason

when did people decide to not have ulterior motives anymore? did you decide those were too old school for you?

tongue poking at the inside of his cheek he activates his poker face and looks away

you, are a random person. a random, annoying person. he is going to stop thinking about you.

turning his attention to erwin instead he calls him and when he picks up levi makes his point very clear

“i was just called scrooge. get the hell here so i can order for you.”

erwin chuckles, his throaty laugh makes levi’s mouth twitch downwards in irritation

“and who exactly called you scrooge?”

“is that relevant?”

“very much so if you’ve mentioned it yourself”

levi is silent and erwin laughs once again at his colleagues anti social way of interacting

“i’ll be there in five, feel free to order.”

grunting a sound of approval levi hangs up

“you’re back! how may i help?”

the way you treat being a barista so seriously, he finds it oddly endearing

“one doubleshot iced coffee.”

nodding to yourself you hum a tune happily and get to work

ever since that day levi finds himself frequenting that specific starbucks more

at first it’s a whole lot of “i’m pissed and i don’t have a reason so i’ll go down there and have her annoy me, then i’ll have a real reason”

then you talk to him more and you both engage in small talk

then it develops when he doesn’t mean for it to

you tell him about what you study, where you’re from, how your mother has recently developed arthritis but she’s still so determined to cook to the best of her abilities despite the pain

that reminds him of you

each visit he learns something new about you

sometimes he’ll let you in on his life

“what do you work as, i’ve always wondered?“

“accountant.“ no way in hell is he going to scare you away, telling you isn’t an option

you burst out in laughter holding your knees

“accountancy is well paying what is your point...?”

“do you not know what that means” your laugh is muffled as you press the sleeve of your jumper against your mouth

he shakes his head completely clueless

“people say their accountants when they’re actually strippers. it’s a tiktok thing.”

you pause for a second staring at his face

he feels the way his ears grow red under your gaze but he ignores it looking as bored as ever

“ah well. i did not know that.”

“clearly not you are an old man.”

then you turn away to brew his tea and he lets the ghost of a smile sneak its way onto his face

you aren’t looking, it’s okay

but he knows it’s dangerous getting attached to you

it’s stupid relaxing

and it’s even worse loosening up

so he doesn’t.

he’s always cold, bitter and frigid in his responses as he’s always been with you

but that doesn’t stop you from kindly smiling

or absentmindedly brushing the surface of his skin on rare occasions

it doesn’t stop you from calling him scrooge

and it certainly doesn’t stop you from slowly thawing the frosty exterior of his heart

then one day you let the words “my scrooge” slip out of your mouth

he doesn’t know why he let’s it happen or even how it happens exactly but he can’t help the smile that makes itself evident on his face

“HEY YOU JUST SMILED HELLO?????? you can do THAT????”

he smiled in front of you, that’s it he’s fucked

he quickly drops it and is back to his normal narrowed glare

“i did no such thing”

you give him a knowing look but sigh airily there’s no point in getting the man to admit it

“what would you like today, a frappe?”

you ask the sarcastic question even though you know he hates change. his usual order is already ingrained in your mind. you know it off by heart

he sighs in exasperation

“is your memory really that bad?”

“nope. cinnamon rolls and black tea it is!”

#levi #levi ackerman #aot #snk #attack on titan #attack on titan levi #aot fanfiction #aot headcanons #levi headcanons #mafia levi #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi fluff #levifanfiction #leviiattacks #sorry for getting carried away again T___T #levi scenario

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arvinsescape · 3 years

Note

Reader's mom instincts not kicking in but tom's dad instincts has definitely kicked in since he won't even let you roll your suitcase at the airport, and you are pretty close to snapping at him

A/N: Thank you so much for sending this in!! I hope you enjoy 💕💕

Warnings: Language, one brief mention of sex.

You were five and a half months pregnant and showing, your bump wasn't so huge that you were waddling but it was clear you were pregnant to onlookers. You were travelling back home with Tom and he'd been different the past couple of weeks and it was starting to piss you off in a way.

You felt guilty when you did get pissed off, he was only trying to help but sometimes it felt like he was treating you like a child. He'd become almost like a moth around a lightbulb, he didn't leave you alone for a second.

"I'll come with you." Tom said as you started taking your clothes off.

"Tom, I'm going for a shower." You laughed and he shrugged.

"What if you slip?" He worried.

"Tom," you laughed. "I have literally showered hundreds of times without your help, I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Yeah but your bumps bigger now." He pointed out.

"I can still see in front of me. I'll be careful I promise." You reassured and he let his shoulders relax a little.

"I still think it'd be better if I joined." Usually you'd jump at the chance of Tom joining you in the shower but you knew sex was the last thing on his mind.

"If it makes you feel better." You said, not wanting to deny him and not wanting him to worry unnecessarily.

You knew his dad instincts had kicked in, he'd become incredibly protective over you, making sure you were okay and at first you found it endearing the way he looked out for your every move but now it felt like he was treating you like the baby.

"Y/N!" Tom came into the room in a panic. You huffed, not loud enough for him to hear. "What are you doing?" He panicked.

"Grabbing those." You said as you pointed to the teabags that had been put a little out of your reach, it only required you to stand on your tiptoes to get them.

"You should've shouted me." He said as he came over, grabbing the teabags and placing them on the counter.

"I'm not injured, I'm pregnant." You pointed out in a slight huff.

"I know, I know but you could have hurt yourself." He said and your heart warmed for a second before the irritation set in, it was almost like you weren't aloud to do anything without him scalding you.

You'd even argued about the current flight you were getting on.

"Tom, I'm fine. I'm still aloud to travel. This is the last flight I'll be getting whilst I'm pregnant." You sighed.

"I just think we should stay here." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Are pregnant women aloud to fly?"

"Yes, Tom. Pregnant women are aloud to fly, I'm still aloud to fly at this stage. Also, I don't want to stay here, I really just want to be at home." You said, you were really starting to miss your home comforts.

"I just don't know if it's a good idea." He huffed and you stormed out of the room, irritation setting in.

"Tom! I am fine!" You almost shouted at him, tone clipped.

You'd not spoken about your outburst and now here you were in the airport, going to hand your luggage over.

"I got it." Tom said as he tried to take the suitcase off you.

"It's fine, I've got it." You said as you held back an eyeroll, you knew you shouldn't be getting so wound up about it but you couldn't help it.

"I'll take it." He said again as he took it off you and you huffed as he walked towards the section that took your cases off you. He handed them over and you were now visibly in a mood. To some it may have seemed unwarranted but in your mind it was completely justified.

"You okay?" Tom asked as he snapped you from your thoughts, hand on your cheek.

"Yeah." You said, tone sounding far from it as you placed an unconvincing kiss to your husband's cheek.

"You sure?" He asked as he followed you towards the coffee shop in the airport.

"Yeah." You said again, this time with a more convincing tone and smile. He seemed to accept the answer as he laced his fingers with yours, you ordered your tea. "God I miss coffee." You groaned.

"As soon as you're not pregnant." Tom reassured and you don't know what it was but it just sent you over the edge.

"Yeah, as soon as I'm not pregnant I might get treated like an adult." You said under your breath, you were being unfair in a way and you knew it.

"What?" He asked, he'd not heard.

"Nothing." You huffed and he furrowed his brows.

"You sure you're okay?" He asked carefully.

"Jesus christ Tom, yes!" You snapped at him. You felt guilty for a second but it felt good to finally get it out. He looked taken aback for a second.

"What did I do?" He asked again, he knew you were angry at him, he just didn't know why.

"You treat me like a child sometimes Tom. I'm pregnant, not dying. I can still do things for myself, I don't need you consistently babying me. I get it, your dad instincts have kicked in, but will you please try and remember that I am carrying the baby and I know what I can and can't do." You let out in your frustration.

"I'm sorry baby, I wasn't trying to, I just feel so protective over you now." He said with a small smile and your anger washed away.

"Tom, I'm not made of glass." You said. "I'm not gonna break." You added with a small smile.

"I just, sometimes I feel like you need to be more careful." He admitted.

"Tom, it's my body okay? I know what I'm capable and not capable of." You reassured as you grasped his hand in yours giving it a small squeeze. "My mum instincts might not have kicked in like your dad instincts but I know what I'm doing." You said again. "Just try and dial down the dad instincts yeah?" You asked and he smiled before nodding.

"Okay, I'm sorry if you thought I was treating you like a child, it was never my intention." He said and you smiled. You were so caught up in your conversation that you'd lost your balance, tripping over something that'd been left on the floor.

You felt your heart drop as you started to fall, shit, after all you'd just said. You felt as Tom's arms wrapped around your waist before steadying you. You smiled sheepishly up at him, embarrassment setting in and he grinned.

"Okay maybe your dad instincts aren't so bad." You said, sheepish look still on your face as he looked down at you and laughed slightly.

#tom holland blurb #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst

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honeypiehotchner · 4 years

Text

illicit affairs (Spencer Reid one-shot)

This is wayyy overdue! It’s just been sitting in my drafts, waiting for me to edit her, but she’s finally here. This is very loosely based on Taylor Swift’s song of the same title. And it’s 100% me writing out some feelings through fanfiction, so it’s also loosely based on true events. Enjoy!

Summary: You and Spencer have been “dating” without a label for a few months now, until you witness something that has you wondering if it was too good to be true (as always).

Warnings: it’s so dramatic. Angst with a happy ending!

Spencer has no fucking clue what he did.

Well, to be more accurate, Spencer has no idea if he even did anything at all.

One second the two of you were acting as normal as ever, attached at the hip and nothing less, and the next you’re barely able to look at him. You won’t speak to him, you insist you’re fine, and you ask him to leave you alone -- please.

A new case comes and he thinks things will fall back into their rightful place. He expects you to sit with him on the plane, but you choose the farthest seat away from him. He expects you’ll be paired with him when he says he’ll go to the local station to work on victimology, but instead you agree to Morgan’s offer to look at the crime scene.

He’s desperate. He’s a so-called genius, and he’s losing his mind.

“Morgan, help me out here, man,” Spencer pleads, cornering Morgan when he’s getting a coffee. He’s just returned from the crime scene with you, but of course, you’ve ducked away from Spencer.

Derek’s eyebrows raise. Slowly, he turns around, eyeing the desperate genius. “You’re asking for my advice?”

“She won’t talk to me,” Spencer whispers, eyes cutting to you, but only for a second. He doesn’t want you to think he’s creepily staring at you all the time. So far, you haven’t caught him (that he knows of).

“Well, what did you do?” Morgan asks like the answer should be blatantly obvious.

“I don’t know!”

“Alright, let me rephrase that for you,” Morgan’s tone is bordering on teasing, but he can’t help it. The resident genius of the BAU is having trouble talking to a woman. Who knew? “Have you done anything that would lead her to believe you’re not interested in her anymore?”

“What? No!”

“Think, Reid,” Morgan replies, tipping his cup of coffee in the air. “And when you figure it out, apologize.”

He leaves without another word. Morgan joins you and Emily back in the room where the team has set up base. You share a particularly heated look with Morgan, but he shakes his head, letting you know he didn’t betray your confidence. You relax.

Spencer doesn’t know this, but earlier when you were riding with Morgan to the crime scene, you confided in him.

It had been completely accidental. Something about car rides brings out the need to ask for advice. Maybe it’s the fact that there’s the road to focus on, or the case to segway into, you don’t know. But what you do know, is that when you confided in Morgan, he shook his head, and called Spencer a dumbass.

“Hypothetically,” you had begun, and Morgan remembers wondering if you were going to talk about the case, but you didn’t. “If you’ve been talking-- flirting with a guy and going on a few dates over the past few months -- but there’s no label -- but so if you’ve been doing all this and then you suddenly see him outside his apartment hugging another woman -- like arms around her waist kind of deal, face in her neck...what does that mean?”

Morgan had nearly slammed on the brakes. Reid? A two-timer? He never would’ve guessed. The kid could barely get his words out when he first met you, and now he’s playing you?

“Well, hypothetically,” Morgan played into your game. “I’d be suspicious. Personally, I don’t just hug any woman like that if I don’t have other intentions,” he shook his head. What you’re describing is intimate, especially for Reid. “You’re right to think something else is going on.”

“Who said it was about me?”

Morgan looked at you with his usual knowing stare. Sometimes you forget you’re all profilers. You’ve made deals not to profile one another, but you’re sure it still happens. You all have another silence agreement to never voice it aloud, unless needed.

“Fine,” you caved, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t know, I just-- I was going to drop off his stupid jacket that he left in my car the night before, and I saw him hugging her right on his doorstep and she kissed his cheek and I just-- I bolted. I don’t know.” You had let out a frustrated sigh. “I thought he was different.”

“If it helps,” Morgan shrugged, “I’ll kick his ass.” He might protect Reid like a mother hen, but he’s not afraid to give him a hard time, either.

“No, no, don’t,” you groaned. “I’m just gonna keep my distance. No sense in putting effort into something that clearly is never going to happen.”

“Oh, come on, don’t talk like that,” Morgan said. You used to talk that way all the time when you first started at the BAU, but it slowly died out the more you hung out with Spencer. Morgan connected the dots, but never told you.

“You know I’ve never been in a relationship?”

This time, Morgan did slam on the brakes.

“What?”

“Never,” you shook your head, motioning for him to keep driving. “Not one. They all fall through. I started thinking something was wrong with me, you know?” Morgan gave you another look, his sad, big brother one this time. “But then Spencer and I started getting closer, he took me on what I thought, I guess, were a couple of dates. I mean, he paid and drove and walked me to my door and all that cute shit. That’s a date, right? I mean, he never kissed me on the lips, but it’s Spencer.” You didn’t even look to see Morgan’s reaction, but he was nodding. “I started to think maybe it was never me, maybe it was the guys--”

“It was the guys,” Morgan argued. “Alright? You’re amazing. Anyone would be lucky to have you. It would be a damn honor. Don’t let that head of yours convince you otherwise.”

You shook your head, the crime scene rapidly approaching. “I’m not so sure anymore.”

You were out of the car and introducing yourself to the police on the scene before Morgan could even blink.

Morgan can only hope Reid had a good reason for having a woman at his door and hugging her, and letting her kiss his cheek. Reid doesn’t give hugs to just anyone, let alone accept a kiss, so whoever it was, obviously she was more than a friend.

The thought of Reid being a player makes Morgan smile. On the one hand, he’s a little bit proud. On the other, he’s pissed. It’s one thing to have one night stands with women who are into that sort of thing, but it’s another to drag someone along -- someone like you, someone who is too good, who deserves better than that.

Morgan had thought about telling you to just talk to Spencer, in hopes that there was a good reason for what you saw, but you’ve made it painfully clear over the past two weeks that you’d rather keep your distance instead.

So, he lets you. He can’t say that he blames you, really. Not after what you told him. He can only hope Spencer will figure this one out before it’s too late.

+++

After the case is closed and you’re back home, you immediately head for the shower. Cases are exhausting enough, but avoiding Spencer made it worse. Going from being attached at the hip to trying to be anywhere except in the same room as him took a toll on you. Not to mention, dodging everyone else’s worried looks. Morgan is the only one you’ve confided in, but that hasn’t stopped Hotch, Emily, JJ, and even Garcia from constantly asking if you’re alright.

Once you’re finished showering and in your pajamas, you head back to the living area. Spencer’s forgotten cardigan lays on the arm of your couch, lonely.

You know you shouldn’t, but you shrug it on anyway. No harm in wearing it. Not like he misses it. He probably has a hundred others.

You head to the kitchen to make yourself some tea, hoping it’ll soothe your nerves and help you drift off to sleep before your mind has the time to make you think of Spencer.

Too late.

Sighing heavily, you place the kettle on the stove. You hum a song while you’re at it, knowing that you’re being endlessly dramatic.

It’s not like you had sex with Spencer. Hell, the most the two of you did was hold hands and you kissed his cheek. He kissed your head once, though you think it was an accident.

Still, there was never a label. Why are you so upset?

Don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby/Look at this idiotic fool that you made me

It’s stupid, really, how hung up you are over this. A few dates don’t exactly mean anything at all. Flirting nowadays can mean nothing, too. You don’t understand any of it.

You cup your cheek gently, foolishly wondering what it would feel like if Spencer’s hand was there instead -- maybe even as he kissed you, but you don’t want to get too carried away. It’s not like anything will ever happen now.

And you know damn well/for you I would ruin myself/a million little times

Maybe you just need more time. This was the first time in a long time that you had let your guard down, let yourself go on dates. So many times it had all gone wrong, so you closed yourself off and focused on your career. You thought since you were stable at the BAU that now it was okay.

You thought Spencer -- Spencer Reid, of all people, you really thought he would’ve been different.

Maybe it’s just your type. Maybe that’s who you attract. The men who don’t want anything serious and never will. They’re stuck in Peter Pan mode. You must be Wendy. It must be a curse.

The kettle boils and you cut the burner off, fixing your tea.

You’re just walking back to the living room when there’s a knock on your door. You freeze, your panicked mind expecting the absolute worst, until you hear Spencer’s voice.

“Y/N?” He calls out. “It’s Spencer-- You probably knew that already.”

You smile into your tea, but you make no move for the door. You want-- no, you ache to let him inside, but you know it’s a bad idea. He’s probably here to ask if you’re alright, and you don’t have the energy to answer him. He’s probably going to go back to his girlfriend after this. You really don’t know that you can handle a face-to-face rejection.

“Y/N, please,” Spencer says again, pleading. He knocks once more, quietly. “I see lights are on, so I’m just going to...assume you can hear me.”

You walk a step closer. You don’t want to let him inside, but maybe you can listen. That won’t be too bad, right?

“Y/N, I’m...I’m sorry.”

Oh, tears. Stupid, stupid tears. You wipe them on the sleeve of his cardigan, glad that they’re at least falling quietly right now.

“I don’t know what I did, but I’m...I’m just sorry and I miss you and it’s killing me that you won’t even look at me. I…” Spencer pauses, and you walk closer, biting on the sleeve to keep from letting out a sob. “I’m sorry, I don’t… Please, just tell me what I did.”

You press your back to the door, sliding down until you hit the floor. You keep your knees against your chest and set the mug of tea down next to you. The noise causes Spencer’s ears to perk up.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

“Yeah, Spencer,” you barely speak loud enough for him to hear. “It’s me.”

“Please, tell me what I did,” he pleads, voice breaking. Is he crying, too? “I don’t know what it was, but I’ll fix it. Or I’ll try-- Please, let me try.”

“Spencer…” You sigh, tears falling down your cheeks with no restraint. “Be honest with me, are you seeing someone else?” You pause, choking on a sob. So many times you’ve had this conversation, the rejection, finding out you weren’t the one they wanted. Too many times. But none of them ever hurt this bad. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“What?” Spencer nearly falls over. Why on earth would you think that? “What are you talking about? Of course not.”

“Don’t lie to me, please,” you groan, pressing your hand to your forehead. This is pathetic. You shouldn’t be showing him how upset you are. And through a door, no less. Can you get any more dramatic?

“What are you talking about?”

“I was at your apartment, Spencer,” you mutter, wiping angrily at your cheeks. “I went to drop off this stupid cardigan of yours and you-- You were hugging a woman outside your door and I saw it and I saw her kiss you--”

You cut yourself off, choking on another sob, and Spencer sighs. He understands now.

“Open the door. Please,” he says.

“Why?” You reply quietly. “If you’re just going to reject me, please, just do it through the door.” The last thing you want is for him to see you like this when he tells you he’s seeing someone else, that he didn’t even know you liked him, and so on.

“I’m not rejecting you,” he says softly. “Please.”

You know it’s a bad idea, but how much worse can things get?

You stand to your feet and open the door, careful of the mug of tea on the floor. Spencer’s heart drops at the sight of you. Tear stains on your cheeks, red eyes, your quivering lip as you try to hold things together, and...his cardigan hanging off your shoulders. Somehow the last tops it all off, sends a strike of pain right to his heart.

You wipe some more tears away with the sleeve, motioning for him to start talking. “Go on.”

“She’s an old friend. We did kiss before, once. But she’s not my girlfriend. She was in town and wanted to stop by to tell me she’s getting married...to her girlfriend of three years.”

You nod slowly. For some reason, that doesn’t even make you feel better. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Spencer asks, hopeful tone and all. “Are we okay?”

“What are we, Spencer?” You ask, eyes still watering. “I can’t keep going on the way we were going, you know? It’s agonizing, I just want to know what’s going on in your head.”

Spencer smiles softly. “I want you to...to be my girlfriend.”

Your ears are deceiving you. They must be. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. I thought it was obvious,” he chuckles. “That’s one of the things I talked to her about -- her name’s Jess. She invited me-- us to the wedding. I was gonna ask you to be my girlfriend-- I still want to, I mean, if you’ll have me.”

More tears spring to your eyes and Spencer’s heart jumps, thinking he did something completely wrong.

“What happened? Did I say something?”

“No,” you shake your head. “God.” You wipe at your cheeks before turning and retreating back into your apartment. Spencer has no choice but to follow you.

He spots your mug of tea and places it on the coffee table as he shuts your front door gently with his foot.

“I’m so...stupid,” you mutter, jumping when you see he’s followed you inside. He’s not unwelcome here by any means, you’re just an idiot. A huge idiot.

“You’re not stupid,” he argues. “I wish you would’ve talked to me.”

“Would you believe me if I told you this has happened to me before?” You murmur pathetically, propping your body against the arm of your couch.

Spencer’s heart breaks more. You won’t look at him again.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, clasping your hands together, fighting the shakes. “I should’ve talked to you, I just-- This has happened before and those times it was… Well, you know.” You finally look up at him, tears falling. “The first time the guy didn’t even try hiding it. The second one did, but not very well because I still found out. The third wasn’t even aware that he was flirting with me, I guess. I don’t know how you can take someone on dates for months and not be aware, but he said he wasn’t.” You pause, looking away again. “I just saw a pattern and I freaked out and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Spencer whispers, even though you still feel like it’s not.

You shake your head.

“Y/N, it is,” he presses on. “I should’ve...talked to you about how I’m feeling, but I was scared. You’re the first girl that’s-- I don’t know, liked me for me, I guess. Dorkiness and all.”

You chuckle, and Spencer nearly grins. He got a laugh. That’s something.

“How about we both make a deal to communicate better?” He offers. You nod, so he keeps going. “I’ll go first. I really want you to be my girlfriend.”

You can’t help but smile now, all dumb and trying to hide it in the sleeve of his cardigan. “I’d really love to be your girlfriend.”

“Yeah?” He asks, almost like he wasn’t even expecting you to agree, but you nod, confirming it for his genius brain.

The kiss the two of you share is a long time coming. It’s gentle and warm, relaxing your muscles and easing the tension you’ve held in them for the past two weeks. Spencer gathers you in his arms, keeping you close, with zero intent of ever letting you go.

+++

When you walk into the BAU the next morning, you are painfully reminded that you are surrounded by the best profilers in the country.

It’s no secret that you and Spencer have been “dating” for a while, but you never showed PDA -- partly because the two of you were fumbling around your true feelings, and partly because you’re not too sure how relationships stand with protocol here.

Apparently, despite coming in fifteen minutes apart from one another, everyone can see right through you both.

Morgan is the first to say something. He catches you when the elevator doors open and you have Spencer’s cardigan hanging over your shoulders. In your defense, Spencer forgot to grab it when he left your house sometime this morning, so you were just trying to return it -- again.

“Late night?” Morgan raised his eyebrows.

Realizing your mistake, your eyes widen. “Shut up.” You step off the elevator and point a threatening finger in his face. “Not a word.”

Morgan’s hands raise in surrender, but he still has that goddamn smile on his face. “Might wanna take off that cardigan, sweetheart. You’re too obvious.”

Angrily, you shrug it off and walk into the bullpen.

Spencer is at his desk, so you shove his cardigan into his chest. “You forgot this.”

Upon seeing that it’s you, Spencer’s lips stretch into a grin. “Thanks.” He pauses, folding the cardigan over his arm. “I was kind of hoping you’d keep it,” he whispers, eyes darting around to be sure no one is listening. “It looks better on you, anyway.”

You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek. “Give it to me tonight, then,” you wink, earning a light blush on Spencer’s cheeks.

Hotch watches this encounter from the railing and smiles. He’s sure neither of you will do anything to warrant him giving you a stern talk about relationships and work, so he won’t mention anything for now.

Instead, he retreats back into his office, glad you’ve finally gotten over yourselves.

Garcia catches on when you come to visit her in her office only to find Spencer already standing there. He’s animatedly talking about Doctor Who, but stops abruptly when he sees you. It doesn’t take a profiler to understand the glances, the smiles, and awkward goodbyes that were shared so you could ask Garcia a question.

Prentiss is just glad the two of you will look at one another again, but the way you keep glancing over her shoulder to see Spencer is more than obvious. It’s so obvious that Prentiss and JJ share a knowing look, but say nothing. They should’ve placed bets.

You and Spencer catch each other’s eyes more than a dozen times every hour, and he follows you to the break room to conveniently get a coffee at the same time as you.

Yeah, you’re not being obvious at all.

Neither of you notice that the team has caught on, so you take your chances when you find yourselves alone in the break room. You can practically hear the conversations the rest of the team is having out in the bullpen, so you let Spencer pull you into his arms, his chin resting on top of your head.

This is a lot for Spencer, and you too, if you’re honest. Hugs are something you never found yourself enjoying, but when you’re tucked into Spencer’s chest, you never want to leave.

You’re both too busy holding one another to hear Hotch’s footsteps as he enters the room. The clearing of his throat is what finally breaks the two of you apart.

“Agent Hotchner,” you blurt, straightening yourself and taking one too many steps away from Reid.

Hotch smirks. You haven’t called him that since your first day. “New case. Looks like a short one. Conference room in five minutes.”

And he leaves as quick as he came, chuckling under his breath.

You and Spencer share a look before dissolving into laughter and fixing your coffee. You don’t try to walk out of the break room separately, knowing that there’s no use.

Especially not when you get cold on your way to the conference room, and Spencer promptly wraps you in his cardigan.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #angst #fluff #angst with a happy ending #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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gukyi · 4 years

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that’s the spirit! | myg

summary: min yoongi hates halloween. as his best friend and resident halloween-lover, that is simply unacceptable. but when halloween night rolls around and you and min yoongi feel farther apart than ever before, you discover that what’s come between you is more than just a bad trick, and that no matter what day it is, loving him is the sweetest treat of all.

{college!au, friends to lovers!au, halloween!au}

pairing: min yoongi x female reader genre: fluff, comedy, a little angst? (a little i promise) word count: 8k (woohoo! i did it!) warnings: alcohol consumption, underage drunkenness in flashbacks, misunderstandings, helpless but mutual pining, halloween parties, this is halloween during college, what else do you expect a/n: some scenes inspired by love, rosie, my absolute favorite rom-com! happy halloween, and i hope this brings some joy to your life before armageddon i mean election day rolls around! much love 🎃💜

Min Yoongi hates Halloween.

Which is ridiculous, because you assume that there must have been at least one time in his life where he liked it. Halloween is a universally-liked holiday. It was the one day of the year where he, an unbridled child rebelling against authority, got to dress up as his favorite book character, superhero, or movie star, hang out with his friends past sunset, and solicit strangers for free candy. Free candy! How could anyone hate that?

But the thing is, it doesn’t matter what Min Yoongi was like in his youth. Ever since you met him, he has hated Halloween. For reasons completely unbeknownst to you.

Unfortunately for Min Yoongi, just because he hates Halloween doesn’t mean that he gets to spend his October pretending that it doesn’t exist. Because, unlike him, you do not hate Halloween. In fact, you rather like it. So much so that Min Yoongi has to deal with the holiday no matter what. For better…

“Ah! What the fuck!”

Or for worse.

You pop your head out of your bedroom to find Yoongi about to throw down with the fake skeleton you’ve propped up by the door, one of those cheesy ones from Spirit Halloween that make a zombie sound whenever its artificial brain can sense someone near it. He’s got this wide-eyed look on his face, fists up in front of him like he’s going to beat the damn thing senseless, even though Min Yoongi is barely five-feet-ten and has a body that functions exclusively on iced coffee and could probably get taken down by the average third-grader.

Min Yoongi does not have a flight instinct. He only knows how to fight.

He’s muttering to himself by the time you emerge completely from your bedroom, grumbling about how he nearly wet himself at the sight of the thing, fingers glossing over the plastic bones as he inspects them. There he stands in the doorway of your apartment, curled-up fists tucked inside the too-long sleeves of his too-big hoodie, pink lips parted in innocent confusion as he blinks at your apartment’s new resident.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” You chide from where you stand in your room, watching as Yoongi jerks his head up. The sound of your voice seems to catch him off guard for a minute, eyes wide in shock before he realizes that it’s you and his whole body relaxes. “Was that you I just heard screaming outside my apartment, Min Yoongi?”

“No,” Yoongi deadpans, fully aware that the both of you know that it was him. “Must have been someone else.”

“Yes, of course, my mistake,” you tease, coming up behind him to rub his upper arm, the palm of your hand pressing against the worn fabric of his hoodie sleeve as he sighs. “You don’t have a problem with my festive decorations at all, do you?”

“Not those,” Yoongi frowns, pointing to the orange and black streamers hanging above your apartment window, to the mini pumpkins sitting in the center of your dinky kitchen table, to the construction paper cutouts of black cats decorating your walls. He rounds on the skeleton, propped up right next to the door with the sole purpose of scaring whatever visitors you have. “This, I have a problem with. What is this thing?”

You smile proudly. “Reginald.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Yoongi looks at you, positively flabbergasted. “You named it?”

You scoff. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I? I bought him, he’s mine now, and he needed a name. So I named him Reginald. What’s the issue here?” You weren’t about to buy a twenty-five dollar plastic skeleton, set him up to be your personal doorman, and not give him a name.

“The issue is that this—” he motions to Reginald’s face, “—is the first thing I see when I walk into your apartment, instead of—oh, I don’t know—you,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Aw, I’m touched,” you say, pressing a hand to your heart. “Didn’t know you always wanted to see my face first thing when you come over.”

Yoongi’s gaze drifts down towards the floor, thumbs twiddling. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, words barely audible. “Why else would I come over?”

“I don’t know, for the ambience, maybe?” You say with a shrug, watching him slide his backpack off of his shoulder and onto the floor by the couch. “Anyway, maybe if you had come with me to Spirit Halloween when I went shopping for decorations, you wouldn’t be so surprised.”

“I had two midterms that week! Two!” Yoongi reminds you.”

“I’m just saying,” you tell him, hands up defensively as you make your way to the kitchen, fishing out two teabags from the cabinet as you set the kettle to boil. You never used to like tea, but a year ago Yoongi convinced you to try this jasmine flower one from the Asian supermarket downtown and you haven’t looked back. Now there’s always at least three spare boxes in your kitchen cupboards, for you and for him. “No time is a bad time to get into the Halloween spirit.”

Yoongi sighs, loud and obvious, because this is the third year in a row you’ve brought up this conversation and it’s not any more convincing than it was the last two times. “Do we have to do this?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t we just pretend it’s November Eve?”

“Come on, Yoongi,” you plead, because he’s never given you a good explanation as to why he refuses to spend Halloween with you, and you just want to know why. “Won’t you just celebrate this one stupid holiday with me?”

“So you admit it’s stupid?”

“That’s not what I meant.” You frown at him, crossing your arms as the kettle starts whistling.

Yoongi exhales, reaching over you to pour the boiling water into your teacups, matching His and Hers ones you bought from the sale section of Target last year for Valentine’s Day. “It’s just not my thing. You know that.”

“But we’re college students,” you exclaim. “Halloween is the best when you’re a college student! You get to dress up as whatever you want and go to five different parties and spend the night with your friends without your parents chaperoning you.”

Yoongi purses his lips, unconvinced. “So… basically an opportunity to get piss drunk in a frat house? No thanks, I’ll pass.”

“You know that I wouldn’t care what we did if you celebrated Halloween with me,” you say, leaning against the counter as you hold your mug in your hands, the heat warming your palms and steam brushing against the skin of your cheeks. “Even if we just stayed in and watched a movie. Or played one of those horror video games Jungkook’s always talking about.”

“That sounds worse,” Yoongi admits with a helpless laugh. It really does. Neither you nor Yoongi have ever been huge fans of the horror genre Jungkook loves so much.

You chuckle. “Honestly, yeah, forget I said anything about that.”

“You know I just don’t care for Halloween that much,” Yoongi says, gazing down into the swirling brown of his mug, the steam from the water making his glasses fog up. “It’s nothing personal.”

You sigh. That’s about as good of an answer you’re going to be getting out of him. No matter what you suggest, whether it be a house party, a night in, or even just a candy feast, he has always declined, citing his unexplainable dislike for the festivities. The only reason he deals with the holiday in the first place is because you love it so much.

“Will you at least help me carve some pumpkins please?” You ask, a last ditch effort to get him to participate. “The supermarket on Fifteenth Street is having a sale on them, and I wanted to decorate the windowsill. It’s easier with two people, you know.”

Yoongi narrows his eyes, looking hesitant.

“Oh, please, Yoongi? Just this once? It’s not even, like, a strictly Halloween thing. It’s just a fall thing! Plus, we can roast the pumpkin seeds after for a snack,” you plead, placing your cup down on the counter so you can tug on his arms, hands wrapped around his wrists as you stare into his eyes, positively desperate.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Yoongi says with a huff, that resigned tone to his voice that signifies that he’s caving in. “Yes, we can carve pumpkins together. That I will do.”

“Oh my God, really? Yes! Yay, thank you so much!” In a fit of excitement, surprise, and joy, you pull Yoongi in for a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck as he tilts back in shock, tea spilling out over the edge of his mug and onto the linoleum floor beneath your feet, drops of it splashing against your skin.

“Whoa, whoa, okay,” Yoongi says, taken aback. Still nestled tightly within your arms, he carefully sets his mug down onto the counter so as to avoid more spilling, his other hand pressing against the small of your back. “I didn’t know pumpkin carving was so important to you.”

You laugh, pulling away as you look into his eyes, crinkled up into fond little crescents. “It’s not. But you are.”

“So cheesy,” Yoongi chides.

“You love it,” you remind him, pressing the side of your body against his as you lean against the counter together. Instinctively, you let your head flop onto his shoulder, fitting perfectly in the crook of his neck. “Thanks for doing this for me,” you say softly.

“Of course,” Yoongi says. “Anything for you.”

“Look how festive campus is!”

Yoongi chuckles as he watches you skip down the main walkway, the one that winds right from the west to the east side of campus, relishing in the feeling of autumn. Yoongi always forgets that it’s fall until it hits him like a brick to the head, and suddenly it’s getting dark at five-thirty and he can’t go outside without a proper jacket anymore. It’s a week until November, and Yoongi still refuses to wear anything heavier than a denim jacket, no matter how cold it gets. It can’t be winter yet, right?

“Wow, all the tones really fit the spooky mood,” you tell him, leaves crinkling as your feet step on the fallen foliage, brown and orange and yellow and red.

“How convenient it is that orange happens to be one of Halloween’s signature colors,” Yoongi chides with a roll of his eyes. “Is the Castle still hosting that party next week?”

“The costume one? Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” you tell him with a nod. “We’re still going, right?”

“Only because it’s our first year,” Yoongi reminds you pointedly. “And since you wanna celebrate together so badly.”

You scoff. “Don’t act like it’s such a drag. I know you want to spend time with me.”

Yoongi chuckles to himself, casual and cool. He knows you’re just teasing him but quite frankly, if Yoongi could spend every day of the rest of his life with you, then he would. If he could turn himself into a witch and cast a spell to keep you by his side for the rest of time, then he would. From the moment the two of you met in your dingy dorm, you clicked. And Yoongi knew, in that moment. He just knew.

“Oh my God, look at the pumpkins!”

Your voice breaks him from his thoughts, your finger pointing excitedly at the carved pumpkins outside of the dormitories that line the walkway, lit candles nestled safely inside. They’ve got everything from the college logo to video game characters to the face of your lovable-but-memeable university president carved into them, decorating the street with a little more personality than normal.

“They’re so cute, holy shit,” you tell Yoongi fondly, all endeared and heart-eyed, the same way you get when someone walks their dog through campus or a professor sends out an update email with a picture of their newborn grandchild. Yoongi’s only known you a couple of months, but already he’s starting to figure out what makes you tick. “I love them. Don’t you love them, Yoongi?”

You turn around to meet Yoongi’s eyes, and when he looks back at you it feels like his whole heart is lighter. He sees your smile and it makes his body fill with warmth, like someone’s wrapping a blanket around him, like a warm cup of hot cocoa on a cool autumn afternoon. He looks back at you, and it feels like everything is right.

“Yeah,” Yoongi says, grinning. “I do.”

The lopsided legs of your creaky kitchen table tremble as the pumpkin hits it.

“Damn, is this thing heavy or am I just getting weaker?” You ask, smoothing out the newspaper spread out on the flat surface of the table, two college students’ best attempt to avoid a mess. They’re old student copies with headlines like Brand New Cafeteria, but is the Food Even Any Good? and New Semester, New Me! sprawled across the front. You care about your school news, you really do, but the members of the newspaper team that hand out the papers practically stuff them down your throat whenever there’s a new issue, which is three times a week and at every street intersection on campus. So you’ve had extras lying around.

“Nope, they’re definitely heavy,” Yoongi agrees as he plops his pumpkin onto the table next to yours with a thud. “Though it’s not like I go to the gym much anyway.”

“Didn’t we say we were gonna try and be healthier this year, since we’re graduating?” You ask.

“That was before that new doughnut place opened up next to the ramen restaurant three streets up,” Yoongi reminds you.

“Maybe grad school?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, reaching over the table to grab the pumpkin carving kits the two of you bought from the drugstore down the road. “Caution. Keep out of reach of children ages three and under,” he reads. “Welp, guess I can’t do this then…”

“Ha ha, very funny,” you say with a deadpan frown, grabbing onto his wrist. “Hold on a minute, Mr. I Promised I Would Do This For My Best Friend.” Yoongi exhales dramatically as you pull him back towards the table, though it’s not as if there was much resistance from him in the first place.

You pry open the plastic wrapping that surrounds the kit, the orange tools eventually popping out of their casing and onto your newspaper-ed table. Sure, you could have probably pulled out two knives from your kitchen drawer and it wouldn’t make a difference, but spending ten dollars each on these two little pumpkin carving kits didn’t seem like a waste of money. For the sake of Halloween spirit, right?

“What do you want to carve?” You ask, handing Yoongi your open kit as you gaze at the instruction manual. Pumpkin carving shouldn’t be too difficult, should it? You cut open the top, pull out all the gunk from the inside, and then carve a face, or something.

“I’m not a very good artist,” Yoongi admits, looking hesitant.

“Well, the good thing about pumpkin carving is that no one expects them to look nice,” you point out. “I think I want to do that anime eyes face emoji. You know the one. Let’s see…”

You grab a hold of the plastic knife that came with the kit, hover the tip over the top of the pumpkin, and stab. It sinks into the squash up to the hilt. That’s the good part.

The bad part is that, because you’re holding onto a knife made out of non-recyclable plastic, moving it once it’s inside the pumpkin is exceedingly difficult. You pull it right and left fruitlessly, watching as the knife sits firmly in place, the handle bending with the curve of your fingers if you tug on it too hard.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Yoongi says with another sigh, abandoning his own pumpkin, which he has already de-stalked in the minutes you weren’t looking his way. “Let me help you.”

Suddenly, you feel a warmth wrap around you. A figure presses against your back, this musky, coffee-laden scent surrounding you, and you watch as Yoongi’s calloused hands slowly envelop yours, fingertips pressing firmly against your skin. It makes you freeze up instinctively, jumping at the sensation of his body around yours, of his torso pressed against your back, of his breath tickling your ear.

“Relax, alright?” He says, voice calm and gentle. He brings your hands to the knife, lets his palms rest against them as your fingers slowly wrap around the handle. You can feel him breathing, feel the slow rise and fall of his chest against you, the heat of his mouth just inches away from your cheek. “It’s just me.”

You force a chuckle. “You just surprised me, that’s all.”

You feel Yoongi pause behind you.

“Seriously, I’m fine. Help me,” you insist.

Steadily, albeit a little bit tentatively, Yoongi does. His hand wrapped around yours, together the two of you carve out the top of the pumpkin, his chest pressed firmly against your back, body engulfing you. He feels so close, so goddamn close, like there is barely an inch of space in between the two of you, like if he were to bend down right there and if you were shift yourself around you would see nothing but his face right in front of yours, his hazy brown eyes looking back at you, twinkling in the white light of your kitchen.

It almost makes you want to turn around and look.

“There we go,” Yoongi says, voice suddenly soft, quiet like there’s something else weighing on his tongue. “What are you thinking of carving?”

“I don’t know,” you murmur, lips upturned. “Maybe you?”

“I don’t make for a very attractive pumpkin picture,” Yoongi says with a shake of his head, even though that’s total bullshit for a number of reasons.

First of all, a pumpkin portrait is by no means meant to be an attractive portrayal of you, unless you’re Keanu Reeves and you look photogenic no matter what. Second of all, there has never been a time where Yoongi has not looked good. He always does. He did during finals week when his body was made of nothing but iced coffee, he did in freshman year when the two of you would stay awake until the early morning getting vodka spilled all over you in frat houses, and he does now, tired eyes and soft skin, dark hair and pink lips, standing in your apartment like he belongs here, like this is where he was meant to be.

“I think you would,” you tell him honestly. “You’d look good no matter what.”

Yoongi’s silent at that, but you can tell from the way his cheeks are turning red he’s taken the compliment to heart. It makes you want to shower him in them. It makes you want to freeze this moment in time, suspended in reality, and stay like that forever.

“Then I’ll do you,” he says with a grin, because what else would he say? Who else would he choose? You are going to put two matching pumpkins on your windowsill, and they will be of you and him. Messy, Picasso-style portraits carved into the orange skin. Two best friends, together even as fucking pumpkins.

You will carve out a picture of him, and he will carve out a picture of you, and isn’t that what this is really all about?

“Do you think people are gonna get the wrong idea about us?”

“What do you mean?”

Yoongi turns around to face you where you stand in front of your dorm mirror, this giant plastic one hanging on two hooks that you’ve latched onto the door of your room. He knows that you can see him in the mirror, staring back at you with a black mask over his face and a cape draped over his shoulders, the giant yellow emblem printed out on a piece of paper and taped onto his chest. It’s a last minute costume, for sure, but it gets the job done nicely.

“I mean,” you say, fixing the cat ears that sit atop your head. “Do you think people are gonna think we’re a couple, or something?”

Yoongi grins nervously and hopes that you don’t notice. “I mean, we’re just going to a frat party. I doubt it’s going to be light enough to see anything at all. Why?”

“Well, I don’t want people to get the wrong idea about us,” you say, adjusting the mask over your eyes. Yoongi, unabashedly, rakes his eyes up and down your figure. Your black turtleneck and skintight leather leggings don’t leave very much to the imagination. You’re definitely much more in costume than he is, to say the least.

“We’re freshmen, people already have the wrong idea about us,” Yoongi scoffs.

You turn around just so you can shoot a frown his way. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Why are you so worried about people getting the wrong idea about us?” Yoongi asks you, an eyebrow raised. This does not exactly bode well for him. “We can be Batman and Catwoman together no matter what people think.”

“I don’t know, I guess I just—” You stop in your tracks, letting the words fall off your lips and crash to the floor. “Never mind, it’s stupid.”

“What? You can tell me,” Yoongi says, concern lacing his voice. He rushes over to you, the two of you staring at your reflections in the mirror. Two friends, clad in black, wearing matching costumes. If Yoongi wasn’t sober right now, maybe he would actually do it.

Maybe.

“It’s nothing, it’s nothing,” you shrug it off with a shake of your head. “I’m happy to be doing this with you. Even if your costume totally sucks.”

“Hey!” Yoongi exclaims defensively. “It is not my fault you came up with this idea last minute even though you already owned everything. I had to pay twenty-five cents to print this in color, you know.”

“A Twenty-five cent costume and you still look good.”

You and Yoongi smile at each other in the mirror, lips turned up as you stare at yourselves, wondering if this is all you will ever be, or if there is something more.

Yoongi sure hopes it’s the latter.

And he’s determined to find out, once and for all, tonight.

You’ve just lit the candles that sit inside yours and Yoongi’s pumpkins when you hear the knock at your door.

You’re sure that Yoongi can hear you from a mile away as you scurry towards the door, white platform heels clapping against the floorboards with every step you take. You’re going to have to practice walking in these a bit more. Maybe you shouldn’t have bought them only a week before Halloween, and maybe you should have at least tried to break them in a little bit.

“Hello?” You swing open the door.

“He—whoa,” Yoongi begins before his eyes widen to the size of the moon as he fully takes in the sight in front of him. “What’s with the—uh, the… dress?” He’s scratching at the nape of his neck, eyes sweeping up and down your body.

You hold out the skirt of your sequined, bedazzled dress as best you can, and grin. “I’m a gogo dancer! What do you think?”

“Wow, I—” Yoongi starts, a little speechless. “I don’t know. Wow. You look… you look nice, Y/N.”

You smile, thankful for the compliment. Yoongi seems weirdly breathless, blinking more often than usual, like he’s trying to convince himself that what he’s seeing is real. Although, you will admit that this dress is much more sparkly than anything else you have in your closet. You reckon a few disco balls were sacrificed to make this costume.

“Why—uh, why did you call me over? Did you need something from me?”

“Actually, yes,” you say, ushering Yoongi into your apartment.

As he’s walking inside, Yoongi notices the pumpkins sitting on your windowsill. “Hey, those look cute together.”

“Don’t they?” You say proudly. Nobody else has commented on them, but then again, you live on the fifth floor of your apartment, so you don’t imagine many people can even see them from ground level. But it’s nice to know that they’re there, and that they mean something. Not to a whole lot of people, but to you. And to him. “But that’s not why I asked you to come over.”

“Why, what’s up?”

You freeze when he looks up at you, like you can hardly will the next few words to come out of your mouth. They’re stuck at the dam of your lips, refusing to budge, because there is this tiny, this little part of you that doesn’t even have the courage to ask. To say it. Because you know already.

“Hoseok’s throwing a party tonight—”

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish!”

“But I know what you’re going to say,” Yoongi says like it’s obvious, because it is. “You’re going to ask me to come with you. And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, Y/N, but I am not going to go. I’m just not.”

“But it’s not a shitty frat party or anything!” You exclaim, desperately trying to dig yourself out of a hole you’re already six-feet in. “It’s at his place, an apartment across campus, with just some friends of his. There won’t be crazy music and sleazy guys and jungle juice. It’s just going to be a house party.”

“I don’t care, I don’t want to go,” Yoongi tells you. “There’s nothing you can do to change my mind.”

“Why? Why won’t you go?” You demand, because the least your best friend of nearly four years could do is give you a real reason. A real reason as to why he hates Halloween, why he never wants to celebrate it with you, why he never wants to go out with you on your favorite night of the year.

“Because I just don’t want to! Why can’t you just accept that? I don’t want to go!”

Silence. It’s almost as if Yoongi’s shocked he was even speaking so loudly in the first place.

Next to you, the candles flicker.

“I don’t get it,” you say, resigned. “I don’t understand. This is our very last year to celebrate Halloween as college students, as best friends, and you can’t even give me a real excuse as to why you won’t come with me.”

Yoongi frowns. “What do you mean, ‘a real excuse’?”

“Exactly that,” you say sharply. “A real excuse. Even when I offer for us to just stay in and eat KitKats and watch a shiity movie you refuse. All because it’s Halloween. I don’t get it. It’s not the crowds, and it’s not the drinks, and it’s not even the other stuff, like the pumpkins and the decorations. Is it me? Am I the reason you don’t want to celebrate Halloween?”

“No, what the fuck, it’s not you!”

“Then what is it, Yoongi?” You plead, not even making an attempt to lower your voice. Can’t he hear the sheer desperation in your voice? The hopelessness? “Why won’t you just tell me why you don’t ever want to celebrate this goddamn holiday with me? Is it my fault?”

“I just don’t!”

The sound of Yoongi’s shouts echoes throughout your living space, bouncing off of the walls. You look back at him, feeling helpless, but he doesn’t look angry, or enraged. He looks exhausted. Like this conversation has knocked the wind right out of him, stolen the breath from his lungs. Like suddenly the pot has boiled over, only it’s extinguished the flames that kept it burning.

“I just don’t,” Yoongi repeats, fists clenched tightly by his side. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

He gives you one last tired look, matching your own defeated expression, before turning around and walking out of your apartment. The door shuts firmly behind him, neither a slam nor a gentle stop, leaving you stranded in the middle of your living space, watching his silhouette disappear.

You sigh. You don’t think Yoongi will ever tell you why he hates Halloween. And while that may be no fault of your own, you can’t help but feel like it has something to do with you.

Yoongi could probably count the amount of times he’s gone to a frat party on one hand, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t already know everything there is to know about them. In his eyes, once you’ve been to one, you’ve been to them all.

Still, he supposes that it being Halloween makes this one a little different. Everyone’s in some sort of costume, whether it be good or bad or just plain old lazy, and there are at least a few orange and black decorations lining the walls of the Castle, and they’ve curated a playlist with Halloween songs as well as rap songs Yoongi has heard plenty of times before, so for once, Yoongi will give the fraternity a bit of credit when it comes to their Halloween party-planning.

Beside him, you take another giant chug of your drink from the orange solo cup in your hand, wincing as the alcohol burns your throat on the way down.

“Hey, take it easy, okay?” He says, though he doubts you can even hear him over the music, loud in the kind of way that his ears are going to be ringing far into tomorrow morning.

“I’m fine!” You shout back, even though you are definitely not. The entire room reeks of a mixture of vodka and sickly sweet soda.

“I just want to make sure you’re not overdoing it!” He tells you as the two of you get shoved together from some massive guy pushing past Yoongi and sending him crashing towards you. He catches a glimpse of the contents of your cup, eyebrows raising when he sees that it’s almost empty. You just got that drink five minutes ago.

You smile. “I’m not!”

The song changes, and Yoongi swears that he can feel the entire house shake as everyone screams, cheering as they bounce up and down, dancing to the beat. Next to him, you are finishing the last few drops of whatever’s in your cup, finding an empty ledge to place it down on when you’re done, and pulling him in close to you.

“Let’s dance!” You shriek excitedly.

And who is Yoongi to resist?

He lets you take your hand in his own and parade him around the tiny little space the two of you share, a couple square feet of freedom in this crowded room, chock full of sweaty bodies just like his. Yoongi may not have had as much to drink as you, but the little bit of alcohol in his system is already shutting down normal mental processes like not-staring-at-you-constantly and pretending-that-he-likes-you-just-as-a-friend, sending him into a tizzy whenever he meets your starstruck eyes.

Even in this dingy, sweaty, unventilated fraternity living room, you are beautiful. You are beautiful here, and you are beautiful at three in the morning after twelve straight hours of studying, and you are beautiful after spilling the dining hall’s chicken noodle soup all over yourself.

God, you’re the only person Yoongi is looking at in this room. You’re the only person he sees.

Shaking his head, Yoongi abandons those thoughts as the song comes to an end, a hand wrapped around your wrist as he leans into your ear. “Do you wanna go outside? It’s hot in here!”

“Okay, whatever!” You agree easily, too easygoing after you’ve got a few drinks in you.

Yoongi grabs a hold of your sweaty hand and tugs you towards the back door, one that he thinks leads to a fenced in backyard. You squeeze through the crowd, getting a couple of drinks spilled on your shoes on the way until you reach the back door and Yoongi fumbles with the knob, shaking it a couple of times before it gets loose. Eventually, the two of you stumble outside into the backyard, where a couple of people are playing beer pong and a couple of others look like they’re making out.

It’s a frat party. What else did Yoongi expect?

It’s the end of October, and Yoongi doesn’t even have on a jacket, but the chill of the night has little effect on him after being in a room that’s felt like one hundred degrees for an hour. Out here, Yoongi feels like he can finally breathe.

“It’s kinda cold out here, don’t you think?”

Yoongi doesn’t even have time to respond before you’re wrapping yourself up in him, curling into his body and placing his arm around your figure, letting the heat from his frame radiate onto your skin.

“Better than being in there,” Yoongi reasons.

“But aren’t you having fun?”

He looks down to see you looking up with him with big, wide eyes, like you’re afraid that he isn’t having fun, or afraid that you’re enjoying this night more than he is. It makes him smile. “With you, I am.”

You grin at that, turning back to face forward, head pressing into the crook of his neck. “That’s good to hear,” you tell him. “It seemed like you were kinda nervous.”

“Nervous?” His voice cracks as he says it. Fuck.

“Yeah, is there something you wanna tell me? It looks like you’ve been dying to say something all night,” you comment mindlessly, clearly much more observant now than you are when you’re sober. Or perhaps, Yoongi’s just more obvious.

He takes a deep breath, pressing his eyes shut tightly. This is his chance. He knows it.

“Actually, yes, there is,” he says, and it feels like he has to force the words out of his mouth because they’re refusing to come out on their own, pausing at the edge of his lips. It feels like he has to overcome his own mind in order to tell you, feels like every word is a sucker punch to his lungs.

You pull away from him, looking up at Yoongi with big, blinking eyes. It’s a clear night, and Yoongi knows because he can see the fucking stars reflected in your pupils, see them twinkling as your glossy eyes gaze back up at him. You look up at Yoongi and God, you are just so beautiful. You are beautiful, and Yoongi wonders, then, if you know. If you know how Yoongi looks at you. If you know how he feels about you. He is so in love. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. You are beautiful and he is so in love, and he’s been dying to tell you that and this might be his only opportunity to do so, because tomorrow will be a new day and Yoongi won’t have the guts tomorrow. This is his only chance.

You deserve to know.

“Well?” You ask him. “What is it?”

Yoongi wraps his arm around the small of your back, pulls you into him, and presses his lips to yours.

Hoseok’s party is fun. It’s definitely one of the better ones you’ve been to in your four years of university so far. There aren’t too many people, and the drinks are actually good instead of just burning your throat, and his music taste is impeccable.

And yet, you don’t think you’ve ever been so unenthused at a party in your whole life. Thriller by Michael Jackson blares from Hoseok’s television speakers, chatter fills the room, and Hoseok’s girlfriend, Haebin, is constantly checking up on you, but never has one place felt so empty.

It’s not really very difficult for you to wonder why.

“Hey, Y/N!”

You whip your head around to find Haein standing by the kitchen table, gesturing towards Hoseok as he’s looking up the recipe for a drink he wants to try.

“You want one? Hoseok’s trying to make Long Island Iced Tea,” Haebin asks. Next to her, Hoseok is struggling to get the measurements right. At least he’s making an attempt.

You stare down at your nearly-full cup of strawberry daiquiri. You took one sip when Haebin first handed it to you thirty minutes ago, and haven’t touched it since. “No, I’m alright, thank you.”

Haebin sighs, patting Hoseok on the back encouragingly before she makes her way over to where you’re sitting on their couch, pressed up against the arm of the sofa as you mindlessly swirl the drink around in your cup, eyes zoning into the whirlpool you’re creating. She sits down next to you with a smile, with the kind of look on her face that makes you simultaneously thankful for and dread the conversation you’re about to have.

“Hey, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.” You don’t even believe yourself when you say it.

“Listen, you don’t have to tell me. I just know that Halloween is your favorite holiday and I was wondering if there was something getting you down tonight,” Haebin says in that comforting, gentle sort of way, like an old friend who knows all your tells.

“It’s not a big deal, really. I think I’m just out of it tonight,” you say, not drunk enough to divulge more information but also not sober enough to keep your mouth completely shut.

Haebin smiles at you, lips pursed. “Alright then. If everything’s alright.” She pushes her hands onto her thighs as she gets off of the couch, heading back towards the kitchen to help Hoseok figure out how to mix drinks. But before she leaves you alone, she turns around and says one more thing. “You know, I don’t know why Yoongi’s not here or anything, but I wish that he was. You always look so much happier whenever he’s around.”

And that just sends your mind into meltdown.

Defeated, alone, and best friend-less, you place your cup down on the end table to your left and get up off of the couch, beginning to gather your belongings, your coat and your shoes and your bag, tugging your arms through the sleeves as you storm towards the door, eyebrows knitted together, lips pursed.

“Hey, where are you going—?”

“I gotta go, Haebin. I just—” You pull on a shoe, tugging at the boot as it slips over your heel, “—I gotta go. Thank Hoseok for me, okay? I have to go.”

You only have time to catch Haebin nod, wordless, before you tug open the door to Hoseok’s apartment and stomp outside.

This is the worst Halloween of your life, bar none. The time when you were four and you tripped over a curb on the sidewalk, spraining your ankle doesn’t even come close. It’s your very last year to celebrate Halloween as a college student, to celebrate it by getting dressed up in a low-effort costume and spending time with your friends, and your best friend isn’t even here. He refused.

He refused and you still don’t know why, but worst of all he refused and you still wish he was here. You wish you could have spent time with him tonight. More than anything else. You wish you could have spent the night wrapped up together on your couch, or on your bed, watching your favorite television shows and enjoying each other’s company. You wish you could have curled into his body as the television blared, pressed your head against his shoulder and felt the warmth of his skin on yours. God, you wish you could have.

You wish you could have told him.

You wish you had the guts to.

Twenty minutes later finds you outside one of the dozens of frat parties likely occurring on campus right now, the bass from the music so loud that you can feel it in your eardrums even outside of the building. No part of you wants to go inside something like that, but at this point you start to wonder if maybe hopping different frats is actually your best idea. Get a drink, get drunk, and then move onto the next one. Rinse and repeat until you don’t remember a thing about this terrible, awful night.

As you walk along the sidewalk, you spot another student sitting on the curb underneath a leaf-less tree, a cheap black drugstore masquerade mask covering the top half of his face. He doesn’t seem to be having a particularly enjoyable night either.

Normally, the last thing you’d want to do is sit down next to a stranger whose face is disguised, because who knows what could happen to you if you do, but there are at least twenty people surrounding the two of you, loitering outside the frat house in the hopes that they can eventually get inside. And honestly, you could use a fucking break.

As casually as you can possibly manage, you take a seat next to the boy, a few inches apart from him as he looks up at you. You can’t make out too much in the dim light of the frat house, but he’s illuminated just enough for you to see his eyes widen at the sight of you.

“You don’t mind, do you?” You ask.

He shakes his head.

You smile in thanks, shifting around where you’re seated on the cold cement, eyes drifting all over the place, from the houses across the street to the road to the people standing around, anything to avoid turning back towards the boy and initiating an even more awkward conversation. Sitting down, the world stops spinning, just a little bit. You didn’t have too much to drink at Hoseok’s, but it was enough to loosen your mind.

“Can I say something?” You say loudly, turning towards the boy.

It was enough to loosen your lips too, apparently.

The boy stares back at you, silent.

“I’m sorry, I just need to get this off my chest.” You close your eyes, breathing in and breathing out, feeling your chest rise and fall. “I am not having a great night. And I wish I was out here with another friend of mine, instead. He’s my best friend, actually. He just… didn’t want to come out tonight with me. But I wish he was here, because I love spending time with him, and I miss him.”

The words spill off of your tongue like lava from a volcano, bursting from your lips completely unfiltered. It surprises you, a little, how much you actually have to say. How much has been weighing on your chest.

You don’t expect him to respond. Truthfully, you can’t even believe you’re unloading all of your baggage onto him in the first place. Since when are you the type of person to tell other people about the tragedies of your life?

But then, he says, “You do?”

And it makes you wonder what else you’ve been keeping hidden.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” you realize. “I love spending time with him. He makes every day brighter, turns everything he touches into laughter. And I wanted to spend time with him tonight because I actually thought he would want to. You know, we carved pumpkins together a few days ago. Of each other’s faces.” You force out a laugh. “We carved each other’s faces into pumpkins and he still isn’t here tonight. I wanted him to be here because he’s my best friend, and because he makes me so happy, and even other people are noticing what effect he has on me. Noticing how fucking happy he makes me. Because he does. I feel like I’m a better person with him. I want to spend the rest of my life with him and he’s not here and instead of going to look for him I’m sitting here telling you the sob story that is my life and I just wish—”

“Does that mean you love him?” The boy asks softly.

“What?”

“Does that mean you love him?”

You turn to look at the boy, eyebrows raised, almost ready to deny such a thing, but when you open your mouth, nothing comes out.

How could you say you don’t love Yoongi? Of course you do. He is your best friend. You never want to live a day when he’s not by your side. You want to spend the rest of your life with him. He makes you smile and laugh like it’s nobody’s business, brightens your day without even trying. Just seeing him is enough to lift your spirits. Seeing his face on the other side of your apartment door, all ripped jeans and Converse sneakers, hands wrapped in the sleeves of his hoodie, dark brown eyes blinking back at you, pink lips parted in a grin. That image you have of him in your head—it’s one you don’t ever want to forget. He is standing in your apartment, lips upturned, eyes crushed into crescents, smiling at you. He is mid-laugh, grinning from ear to ear at something you said. He is right there.

“Well, yeah,” you say, because what else are you supposed to do? “I guess I do.”

Suddenly, your chest feels a whole lot lighter.

The boy next to you smiles, the dim light barely illuminating his features, but when you look at him there is something so strangely familiar about him, about the way he blinks at you, about the peak of his Cupid’s bow, about how his lips are stretched into a grin. It couldn’t be him… could it?

But before you have time to ask, he is leaning towards you and pressing his lips atop yours, crashing your mouths together in a desperate, messy kiss. His palm presses against your cheek and you can’t help but sink into it, sink into the way his other hand curls around to rest on the small of your back, let yourself be engulfed by him.

You’ve never kissed Yoongi before, but you know that this is what it must be like.

You know, from the way your blood starts to sizzle, sparks rushing through your veins. From the way your heart is pumping, loud and clear in your ears, like it’s been jolted to life. Like a shock is running through your body. Like a warmth is filling you up, from the inside out.

When you part, as Yoongi takes off his mask, he can’t keep the smile off of his face. “I knew it. I knew you loved me.”

“What are you doing out here?” You ask, positively shocked. “I thought you hated Halloween.”

“I do,” Yoongi confirms. “Or, well, I did, I guess.”

“Then what changed?”

“You. Us. We changed,” Yoongi says, motioning between your bodies. “I hated Halloween because it had bad memories for me. Nothing crazy, but, yeah. You don’t remember?”

“What?” Your mouth drops open. “What should I remember?”

“We kissed that night.” Yoongi begins, eyes shifting down towards the ground. Clearly recalling this is awkward for him. “Halloween, freshman year. Outside of the Castle.”

You don’t remember this at all.

“Well, I kissed you and you kissed me, and I thought that we had established then and there that we liked each other. You know, like, really liked each other. But you were so drunk that night. I don’t know what you had, but you could hardly walk by the time I got you back to your dorm. Your roommate was furious with me.” He shakes his head at the memory, replaying in his mind like a movie. “And I thought, okay, we’ll just talk about this tomorrow. But you must have had a wicked headache or something, because I saw you the next day and you said—”

“God, whatever happened last night, I don’t want to know.”

It’s the middle of the day, the sun high in the crisp November sky, but you have been cradling your forehead ever since Yoongi last dropped you off, back at your dorm, when you were slowly starting to crash.

“What?” His voice is hollow, empty.

“Last night fucked me up real good,” you say with a huff, shaking your head. “I’m glad I don’t remember what happened last night.”

As Yoongi traipses back to square one, his heart shakes in its cage.

“I guess you just didn’t remember,” Yoongi tries to explain, much to your horror as you realize that you and Yoongi have been crushing on each other hopelessly for three years extra without you even realizing it. “So, uh, yeah. That’s why I didn’t like Halloween.”

“You kissed me that night?”

“What?”

“You kissed me that night? Outside of the Castle?”

A tingling on your lips. A faint feeling of warmth. You remember bits of that night. It was cold, and you were freezing in your costume. And you and Yoongi had gone outside to escape the crowd, and he said something, and then you said something, and then he—!

“Yeah.” Yoongi nods. “I did.”

“And I didn’t remember?”

“I mean, you were really drunk.”

Your shoulders sink, the thought of Yoongi, helplessly pining after you for three more years because he thought you didn’t like him like that, because he thought that the love you shared was one-sided, still sticking by your side as your best friend. At the thought of him deciding it was better to be best friends and keep that love hidden than tell you and risk it all over again. At the thought of him accepting what he thought was his fate.

“I’m sorry,” you say. What else is there to tell him? If you had remembered, if you just didn’t say those words, if you had just told him how you felt, this would have all been so much easier.

“It’s okay now,” Yoongi says, expression growing fond as he pulls you in for a hug, sad to see you so gloomy. “You love me and I love you. What more could I want?”

A realization dawns on you.

Pulling apart from him ever so slightly, you quirk an eyebrow. “You know, you could have just kissed me again the next day, and then we wouldn’t have had to deal with all of this. Plus, you would have still liked Halloween.”

Yoongi scoffs, pressing a kiss to your icy cheek. “So what? I like it now, how about that? I fucking love Halloween now. It turned my best friend into my girlfriend. She’s the love of my life. We can celebrate every Halloween together from now on until the end of time.”

You grin, pressing a kiss back on his little button nose, pink from the cold. Finally. “That’s the spirit.”

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