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Smoke sprite | part 1

Synopsis: maybe your mother cheating on your father wasn't that bad after all.

Cw: idk... reader is described as a first year college student... (semi self insert) kinda wrote reader to be like 19 & Ellie 20 but it doesn't matter age isn't rlly mentioned

4:30pm.

"This is boring huh?" Laila said as she sat down beside you. You squinted to look at her, protecting your eyes from the beaming fire lights. "Insanely boring" you replied.

-

It had been three months since your life changed drastically. Your mother cheated, divorced your father, married her new boyfriend and moved you to an entirely different state within months. Everything happening so fast, it felt like you never got the opportunity to actually comprehend anything.

Despite the separation of your family, and your now resent fullness towards your mother and step father—there was one thing making it all better, your step siblings.

Laila and jay, your new brother and sister. Unlike you, they were used to having one full parent. Though, just like you, they hated that parent for nearly everything. Because of this, they became your biggest support system and resource for when you needed to get away from your mother—often taking you for drives as your mothers affair ruined your license plans.

And that's how you're here, at a stupid neighborhood fire, in the middle of fall, watching your mother live happily ever after.... despite your misery.

5:00pm.

"Me and jay are going to a party, wanna come?" Laila asked you, still sitting next to you. "Really?" You questioned. "Of course, it'll be cool, you can meet some people for once" she replied, making you laugh. "Idk... I'm kinda still getting settled, and won't our parents notice we're gone all the sudden?" You responded. "Nah, it's all good, just come let's get ready" she added, pulling you up before you could protest

The two of you spent just about a hour getting ready. As Laila figured, your parents didn't once question where you had ran off to, making it easy for you to walk right by them and drive off.

8:00pm.

"Her names y/n" laila told. "Your new girlfriend? You moved on that quick?" one of her guy friends questioned, making you nearly spit out your drink. "No wtf, my step sister idiot, ignore him" she said turning to you, "we're gonna go out and smoke wanna come?" She added.

"Oh uh... I don't smoke" you replied, making laila laugh, thinking you were being sarcastic. "Oh you're frl?" She said as she glanced at you again realizing you were serious. "Yea.... not my thing" you added. "That's alright, we'll go you have fun!" She said pulling her friend away, the faint conversation between them fading out

"You're so stupid" she said, "how was i supposed to know she was your sister" he replied.

11:56pm.

Nearly midnight, and Laila still wasn't back from her smoke session. You had spent almost a hour outside in the cold looking for her, with no luck.

Your anxiety was through the roof as you made your way to the nearest restroom, stopping to ask anyone you could if they've seen her—only getting "nah's" and crazy stares.

you burst through the bathroom door, desperately trying to turn your frozen phone back on, nearly dropping it as you fidgeted with the buttons. Girls clearing out left and right, while you tried your best to not embarrass yourself. Before you could finish trying to get yourself together, something startled you out of the breakdown.

"You good babe?" A raspy voice echoed through your ears as you turned around, your eyes mimicking a deer in the headlights. "You need a charger?" The girl questioned, moving up from against the wall and reaching for your phone. Her hands quickly gracing yours. "Your hands are freezing, run them under some hot water here" she said dragging you towards the sink.

"Do you know Laila" was the only thing you could get out, still trying to bring your breathing back to normal. "I know of her" she chuckled, "why? You her new girlfriend?" She questioned. "No god why does everyone keep saying that" you replied.

"Relax I'm just messing with you" she said. "she just... brought me here and I can't find her anywhere, my phone won't fucking turn on and I don't know how to get home it's too dark" the words spilled out of your mouth, 'it's not her problem' you thought mid ramble. "It's alright love, your hands warm enough now yea?" She laughed at your sudden shift in tone, taking out a pair of mittens from her thin jacket pocket. "Wear these outside" handing them to you. "Thanks" you said—finally making eye contact. 'Of course she has to be fine, the first time I embarrass myself here' you thought on.

"You good now tho? Sounded like you were gonna explode when you came in" she said, caressing the back of your jacket. You paused, studying her for a moment before breaking out of it—afraid she'd think you're a creep. "Yea I'm good, I was just panicking" you said now studying the floor. "You the step sister?" "Laila's new one?" She questioned, you so distracted by her presence — you hadn't even realized she started to guide you out of the washroom and back to the main room. "Hm?" She added looking over at you. "Uh yea" you replied, your tone quiet. "Yea of course she left you here, she doesn't pay attention to shit" she told, "I'll drive you so you don't have to walk in the cold, yea?" She asked. "You know where she lives?" You asked back. "Where you live? Yea" she smirked. "Give me ten, I gotta talk to some people first, sit here" she said guiding you onto a kitchen stool, as if you were incapable of thinking for yourself. "you'll be good?" She looked at you again. "Yea..." you replied. "Alright" she said patting your shoulder.

And unlike Leila, Ellie came right back. talked to some people, came back and took you striaght home as told. "Is the heat warm enough?" She asked, leaning to put her hand over the car vent. "Yea it's good" you replied. "When did you move in? With Laila... I knew her dad started dating again but I didn't know it moved that quick" she questioned. "like three months ago..." you replied, your tone quickly going quiet again as you slouched down in the seat. "You don't like him?" She asked, looking at you through her mirror. "He's fine I guess, I don't mind" you replied, "must suck tho, having to leave everything behind and move in with strangers.. especially ones your age, and having to apply to new colleges and shit, must suck bad" she ranted on, 'tell me about it' you thought to yourself.

"Sorry that was out of line" she added on, noticing your silence. "It's fine, at least someone gets it " you said unbuckling your seatbelt, the awkwardness making the time go by quick. "Let me walk you to the door, it's dark" she said getting out to quickly open the car door. "your phone" she handed to you once you reached the front entrance. "Thanks, and for driving me.. can I repay you?" You questioned, Ellie now being the one to study you. "Yea" she replied looking you up and down, "with what?" You replied, looking back at her wide eyed once again, making her laugh. "Just your number, I'll take you to a real party" she said, "Oh alright.." you hesitently replied—but hesitant enough as she had already handed you a pen and paper. "You just keep this on you at all times?" You asked, as you wrote down your number—cheeks frozen and hands cuddled up in the mittens she had given you. "Comes in handy doesn't it?" She replied, you handing her the paper and rolling your eyes. "I live down the street, it'll be nice to see you around" she added.

"Thanks.. again" you said, looking around the street behind her. "Don't mention it...you should go inside, poor face is frozen" she replied lifting her hand to caress your cheek—eyes meeting for a moment before you broke it. "Yea, it's cold... but thanks again.. see you, later?" You questioned. "Yea, I'll call you, once your phone is unfrozen" she joked, you laughing in return. "Ellie by the way" she practically yelled as she walked down the stairs from your front entrance, "y/n" you yelled back just enough for her to hear, before turning around and going inside—your freezing face not being able to contain your giddiness.

cheating pt. 2

part 1 here

Ft: Suna Rintarou x !gn reader, a little bit of atsumu miya x !gn reader

Genre/warnings: hurt/comfort, brief mention of fighting, panic attack, angst to fluff

Wc: 2.6k

NOT PROOFREAD!

The morning after you broke up with Suna, you wake up with a sour taste in your mouth, hugging a pillow. Momentarily disoriented, you look around your room until you spot your phone, and it all comes crashing down.

Oh no. Your chest tightens when you see 41 missed calls from Suna and 118 unread text messages over the course of the night. You'd fallen asleep with your phone set to silent, crying into your pillow at the immense betrayal.

Slowly, you unlock your phone to see increasingly frantic messages from Suna, begging you to forgive him and take him back. Ten new voicemails. You shouldn't press it, shouldn't listen to his voice. But you do.

"Y/N," immediately, your heart cracks at the sound of his voice. He sounds so desperate, so frantic, tears clinging to the words. "I'm so, so, sorry. You have every right to be mad at me, every right to hate me. I hate myself too, and I'll never forgive myself for doing that. I-I just wanted you to know that I-" the recording becomes quieter, only the faint sniffles picked up on it. "I love you."

It ends there, and you freeze. He'd never told you he loved you before, skipping over it whenever you jokingly mentioned the future. You knew he was scared of commitment, but it still hurt whenever he ignored it. A particular memory from two weeks ago floods your mind, no matter how hard you try to push it away.

You were lying on Suna's bed, resting your head against his chest as he scrolled through the videos he wanted to upload to Worldstar. His arm was slung around you, his lips pulled up in a smirk, his green eyes flicking from the phone to you and back again. It was comfortable, a lazy Sunday with the sun just beginning to set behind his curtains. You nestled further into his chest, his heartbeat regular and reassuring. You let your eyes drift closed, basking in the warmth of his affection.

Almost too soft for him to hear, half hoping he wasn't listening, you whisper "I love you." He stiffens, and you know you messed up. His heart skips a beat, and he pretends like he didn't hear you. You swallow, embarrassed that he didn't say it back, but neither of you moves until Suna gets up, saying he has to use the restroom. He doesn't come back for a while, and when he does, he mutters something about it getting late (it was barely 6 pm) and how he'd forgotten that he had to do something today. Taking the cue, you took your stuff and left, silently cursing yourself for saying it before he was ready. Things had been awkward the next few days, with him responding less and less frequently and seeming more distant and cold.

Come to think of it, it was right before he started acting strange.

oh.

Pressing a shaking hand to your mouth, you squeezed your eyes shut. Was that why?

Before you could sink deeper into your thoughts, you heard a knock at the door of your bedroom. The door opens to reveal Atsumu, standing awkwardly in your door frame. Yelping, you bring the bedcovers up to cover yourself, forgetting that you’re still wearing your clothes from last night. “How did you get in here?!”

He blushes, eyes flickering around your room and refusing to land on you. “Yer mom told me where the spare key was.”

You sighed, and he came over and sat on your bed, looking at his feet placed on the floor. “Ya okay?” he asked, voice low. That wasn’t what you’d expected. It was rare for Atsumu to be serious, rare for his brow to be furrowed so severely.

“Well, that’s debatable,” you said, scoffing a little. He nodded, eyes still fixed on the floor.

“I saw Suna last night,” he blurted out.

“You did?” Your eyebrows lift, surprised at his uncharacteristic behavior.

“I punched him,” he admits, lifting his head. “I was just too angry at him for hurting ya.”

Then it was your turn to look at the floor, not responding to this statement. What were you supposed to say, anyway? You sit in awkward silence, waiting for Atsumu to gather his thoughts and speak again.

“He’s in love with ya, ya know,” he says quietly. “That’s why it doesn’t make sense.”

“Why would he cheat on me if he loves me?” you ask, lip quivering slightly. You noticed the tense of the word; is. Not was. He sighs in frustration, shoulders slumping.

“I don’t know.” Seemingly debating on whether to say something, he decided to anyways, “He just let me hit him.”

“What?”

“He just stood there when I punched him, didn’t even punch back or anything. He just looked so sad, ya know?”

“Sad?” you scoff. “He was the one who decided to do it.” He nodded, knowing you’re right.

“I don’t really know why I came here,” he admitted. “I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. Aren’t ya missing class right now?”

“I’m not going today,” you mutter. He understood. Silently, he got up and left the room, and you heard the door shut short afterward, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

It wasn’t raining anymore, but the clouds still clung dark and heavy, low to the mountains and shrouding the distant buildings. Puddles shone on the ground, the leaves outside your window glistening with raindrops.

It hurt. It hurt so badly, the confusion and anger and sadness all combined. The truth was, you still loved Suna, and apparently, he loved you. Falling back onto your pillow, you felt like crying, but the tears wouldn’t come. Your eyes were dry, the pain finally internalized. The good memories of your time with Suna came then, flooding your mind and squeezing your heart.

The first time you two kissed, in a parking lot of a 7/11  at two in the morning. His lips tasted like soda, the sweet fizz almost intoxicating. It was a quick kiss, feeling him smile against your lips and seeing the smirk on his face when he pulled away.

Watching the stars together from the roof of a building on a moonless night, offering you his jacket when he noticed you were cold. You fell asleep in his arms that night, the cool winter air brushing your cheeks and inciting him to hold you just a little bit closer.

The playful insults exchanged, the banter slowly turning into backhanded compliments, and then sweet nothings whispered in your ear.

The warm, enveloping hugs, although somewhat rare- he would hold you, one arm on the small of your back and the other caressing the back of your neck.

The skeptical look on his face when you took him to the grocery store, fully intending to make a new dish you’d seen on TV with him. Not noticing the softness in his eyes as he watched you, your excitement contagious in his smile.

The teasing he endured because of you. The day you walked into the gym, bringing him a homemade bento, the boys had teased him relentlessly. He didn’t mind, because it made you happy.

All of that was gone now, and the miserable aching in your heart was a constant reminder of it. You let sleep take you away again, the pain in your expression being smoothed away by the gentle lull. When Suna slipped into your room using the same key Atsumu had failed to properly hide, he saw you curled up, hugging a pillow in your sleep, a small crease marking your forehead. He always said you looked angelic in your sleep.

“Suna…” you murmured, shifting slightly, and his eyes grew sad at how you grimaced slightly at his name.

He made his way to your desk chair, sitting down silently and grabbing a piece of paper from the desk along with a pencil, beginning to write.

When you awoke to the sound of a pencil scratching paper, it took you a second to register that there was someone else in your room. You screamed, clutching your pillow until you recognized Suna.

His eyes found yours, and the guilt and shame in them were almost overwhelming. You looked away, clenching your jaw. The pencil fell from his hand, seeming to fall in slow motion until it hit and bounced off of the floor, clattering once, twice, and then three times before rolling away from his foot.

“Get out,” you whisper.

“Can we just talk about this-” he rushes, standing up and impulsively moving closer to you.

“I said get out!” You yell, flinching away from his touch as if it’s some sort of deadly disease. His face falls, and he withdraws his hand, swallowing hard. “What is there to talk about? You cheated. It’s not a mistake. It’s a choice, and you chose to break my heart!” You look at him, anger and pain mixing in your eyes, and he finally gets it. You’re not coming back. He ruined it with an impulse decision, a reckless choice in the face of his fear of commitment and the overwhelming feelings that he didn’t know how to deal with.

The day you told him you loved him, he froze only because he didn’t know what to do. He’d gotten up, gone to the bathroom, and sunk down the door, back straight and head tilted towards his knees. This had never happened to him before- every time he’d been with a girl, he’d never felt like this. Was it love? He already knew he messed up by not saying it back, but his emotions were confusing, distracting, almost frightening. He’s taken his mind off of it by falling into a stranger’s arms that night, reassuring himself that he was still the same old Suna, the one who didn’t need anyone.

God, how he hated himself for that. Tears welled up in his eyes against his will, and he stared down at the floor.

“Why are you still here?” You spoke, back turned to him, “I thought I told you I didn’t want to talk to you.” Your words stung, you knew they did, but you didn’t really care. The paper in his hand fluttered to the floor, almost inaudibly brushing across the wood. His bottom lip quivered, and the tear that clung to his eyelash slipped silently down his face, making his green eyes appear even brighter than normal.

Thunder crashed outside your window, and Suna froze, his sharp intake of breath making you turn. He looked petrified- his entire body seemed to be shrinking into itself, his hands trembling and clenched, his eyes wide with unmistakable fear in them.

“Suna?” You got up from your place on the bed, curious as to what was happening, then remembered. Suna had a crippling fear of thunderstorms. “Suna. Suna, hey, look at me.” You waved a hand in front of his face, but he just started shaking harder, his breathing getting faster. Gripping him by the shoulders, you gently pushed him towards your bed and helped him sit down, your brow furrowing. “Can I touch you?” you asked gently, receiving the smallest of nods in return. You sat beside him and started rubbing his back, gently holding him closer to you. Thunder triggering a panic attack had only happened twice before, but you were familiar with how to help him through it. “I’m going to go close the curtains now.” Almost methodically talking him through your movements in an attempt to distract him from the thunder growing louder outside, you went to close the curtains and turned on your bedside lamp. “Tell me how I can help.”

He struggled to speak, his breath turning into short hyperventilations until you sat down next to him and started breathing loudly and evenly, hoping he would hear you and try to match his breathing. To your surprise, he turned to you and hugged you, burying his face in your chest and huddling close to your body. Stiff at first, you slowly wrapped your arms around him and rocked back and forth, whispering into his ear that it was almost over and he would get through it. You could feel his back shuddering, trying to maintain control of his breathing and failing. Out of instinct, you rested your cheek on his shoulder, staring at the picture of you two that still rested on your nightstand, and you felt his breathing gradually slow. Soon, he stopped shaking, but he still clung to you as if you were his life raft in a tumultuous storm.

It wasn’t until you felt wetness on your shirt that you pulled back, concerned, only to see tears dripping down Suna’s face. He instantly missed your warmth, your smell, the feeling of you holding him, but he knew it would be selfish of him to try to pull you back in.

You didn’t speak, eyes flickering from him down to the blanket underneath you. Your anger was gone now, and as hard as you tried to hate him, looking at the vulnerability displayed on his face melted the resolve you had.

“You look terrible,” you say, eyes wandering over his disheveled hair and puffy eyes.

“I didn’t sleep last night,” he responds, and you instantly feel awkward.

“I-I’m sorry,” you mumble, unsure of what to say. He just shrugs, gazing downwards.

“About what I said in the voicemail.” At these words, you freeze. “I meant it, and I’m so sorry for not saying it earlier.”

You turn away from him, eyes burning, as you feel a lump in your throat. “If you love me, why did you do it?”

His words die in his throat because that’s what he’s been wondering this whole time. If he loved you, why did he do it? “I-I did it because I was scared.”

“Scared?” you spit, pain lacing your words, “Scared? Do you know how terrified I was to tell you? I know that you’re scared of commitment, I know that it’s hard for you to express your feelings, but do you have any idea how many hours I spent wondering if you even liked me anymore? If you even cared at all?” Hot tears spill down your face, your lips quivering as you tip your head back and stare at the ceiling. Quieter, you say, “Do you know how many times I cried myself to sleep because of you? No, you don’t. But I still believed in us, I really thought it could work, and you threw it all away because you were scared?”

You shook your head, and he stared at you, hating that he made you feel like this. “I had no idea,” he rasps, voice husky from the breath caught in his throat. “When you told me you loved me, I realized I loved you too. I’d never felt like that before, and I was scared of my own feelings, so I wanted-” He stopped, unsure of how to continue. “I needed to distract myself.”

Each word stings, a knife stabbing into your back, as the tears fall harder and faster. You look up at him and see there are tears streaming down his face too, the shame too much for him to bear.

“I would do anything for you to come back.” His voice breaks, becoming breathier as his shoulders begin to shake again. “Please.”

In one swift movement, you pulled him close to you, and it was your turn to huddle into his chest as you sobbed. Just for a second, just for a moment, just to feel his touch again, but he wrapped his arms around you tightly and didn’t let you go. Clinging to each other, you shared the pain.

“If we can move past this,” you mumbled, face pressed against his shirt, breathing in his scent, “you can’t ever do something like that again.”

“No, no, of course not,” he assured you, voice thick with emotion, “I promise I’ll be so much better. I’ll try to give you everything you deserve.” 

He pulls away and looks at you, drinking in your face, before pressing a soft, hesitant kiss to your lips. When you reciprocate, he kisses you harder, with more passion, holding you as if he can’t let you go. “Thank you,” he mumbles against your lips, and you feel the pain and anger and worry seep out of him.

It was going to be okay. a/n: i’m not really sure about this one, but i hope you guys enjoyed! sorry for the major angst, lmao also tiny reminder my requests are open even tho i kinda suck at them

Ignite - Chapter 10

Chapter 10 Kelly and Chloe had spent majority of their time in bed that day until Hank had came knocking on the door, letting them know that he had made dinner. Chloe had tried to get him to go away by shushing him, but the low growl of his voice reminding her that she was eating for two caused Kelly to chuckle with his eyes closed, agreeing with her father and then kissed her forehead. Chloe had crawled out of the bed and then moved to help Kelly up from the bed even though he had protested. He had commented that he had to pee but he refused to let her help him into the bathroom. Since the fracture in his knee wasn't too severe, he had gotten away with being able to wear a brace for four to six weeks. The firefighter had went to the restroom and then headed out of the bathroom to head into the kitchen as he wobbled down the hallway. "Shouldn't you be using a crutch?" Chloe commented as she looked to the man who was using the wall for support. "It's fine Chlo..." Kelly grumbled lightly, "It's not that bad, just hard to adjust to." "Whatever you say, but if you fall, I'm not lifting you up." Chloe joked playfully. "I'll be fine." Kelly made his way towards the kitchen table and plopped down letting out a breath causing Chloe to giggle. "For a firefighter..." Chloe began to joke but Kelly playfully glared at her. "Shut it." Chloe had looked to the plates that were already laid out on the table for their meal to see a large steak, baked potato and salad, and her mouth began to water with how hungry she had been. Chloe didn't even bother speaking as she cut into the meat and began to eat. "My god, this would be amazing if I could drink a beer." Chloe commented, seeing both Hank and Kelly's eyes on her, "I am obviously not going to drink." Chloe added with a dramatic eye roll, causing Kelly to shake his head with a small laugh as he continued to eat. The sound of a knock on the door caused everyone to freeze for a moment since it was going on eight o'clock in the evening. Hank looked to his daughter, "Stay here." Hank ordered while Kelly stay up a little straighter. Chloe had finished the food that was in her mouth before pushing her plate away when the sound of the front door opened. Chloe listened quietly to see if her father was speaking and heard the familiar sound of her partner, Adam Ruzek. "It's just Adam." Chloe moved to stand up from the table just as Hank and Adam walked into the kitchen, and she had sat back down and grabbed her plate to finish. Adam sat down at the kitchen table and Hank grabbed another round of beers for the men. Hank sat down and reached for the files that Adam had laid on the table. Chloe reached for one but Kelly had stopped her, "Finish eating first." Kelly commented knowing that once she had started to look at the files she would forget about her food. "So what did you find out so far?" Chloe questioned to her partner as she focused on her food. "Well we checked every building around your apartment." Adam explained, "It took some time but we were able to track down the make of a car. It's a beat up old honda." Adam explained, "It was parked near the alley by your apartment. We decided to check the street cameras from the location of the fire, it was parked a block down." Adam explained, "The only thing is there are two names on the title of the car. Matthew Decker and Bryan Decker." "Photos?" Chloe finished off her food, pushing the plate away and reaching for the file and began to look at both men, seeing that they were twins but one Matthew had blonde hair while Bryan had brown, "Do you recognize either of these guys?" Chloe questioned pushing the file to Kelly who was nursing his beer. Kelly looked over the file trying to see if he had noticed either man or if anything had stuck out to him. Kelly had read the report at least a dozen times, something was sticking out to him but he couldn't place it. "Babe?" Chloe furrowed her eyebrows as Kelly stared at the file in front of him while Hank and Adam had went over the second file that Ruzek had brought in. "There was a fire at their childhood home." Kelly explained, "Their father was really pissed off, wouldn't leave the house so we had to drag him out." Kelly added, "I don't remember either guy being there though." "Did anyone get injured?" Hank questioned and watched the firefighter shake his head no, "Okay, so let's run their names through the database, see if there is any record behind their names." Hank stated. Chloe had gotten up from the table to grab her work laptop and headed back to the table. The Detective had ran the first twin's name, Bryan while Adam ran Matthew's name. "Bryan is married with two small children, works for a real estate agency up north in Chicago. No record outside of a couple of speeding tickets and seatbelt violations." Chloe explained reading the laptop screen. "Matthew has a rap sheet..." Ruzek commented after Chloe had finished reading on his brother, "Mostly drugs, a couple of hit and runs..." "Wait..." Kelly furrowed his eyebrows, "What sort of car did you say it was?" Kelly questioned. "It's a 1993 Honda Accord." Hank commented, "Why?" "Do you have a photo of the car?" Kelly questioned and watched as Adam gave a nod and pulled the photo out, sliding it to Severide, "We responded to a call a few months ago, the front end was practically demolished. I remember having to help the guy out of the car, he was high as a kite, he had a passenger that overdosed." Kelly explained, "He was trying to help the chick but I had pulled him out of the car so Brett and Foster could try to revive her, but it was just too late." Kelly explained. "Do you remember if he said anything to you?" Hank questioned. Kelly shook his head no, "I know that we had to do a report because of the death, I can call Matt and have him find the report for it." Kelly answered, "You think he's targeting Chloe because of me?" Kelly found himself questioning. "Anything is possible right now." Hank stated, "Especially if he's on drugs." Chloe watched as Kelly's shoulders slumped, "Hey, we don't really know if he's involved or not." Chloe tried to ease the tension is Kelly, "And it's not like you could have known, there was nothing you could have done." Chloe added reaching to squeeze his thigh under the table. "Kelly can you get ahold of Matt and have him bring the report in tomorrow?" Hank questioned, "Ruzek, I want you to start asking around about Matthew." Hank stated and grabbed ahold of the files. Chloe watched as her partner gave a nod, and then moved to stand up from the table after finishing off his beer, "On it boss." Ruzek stated, "Chlo, we'll talk soon, okay?" Adam suggested and the dark haired woman nodded her head, and she moved to put the plates in the sink to wash. "I got it." Hank commented as he approached her, "Go take it easy." Hank added. Chloe rolled her eyes, "Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I am incapable of doing dishes." Chloe commented. "No, but the doctor said that you needed to take it easy for a couple of weeks." Hank pointed out, and Chloe nearly growled but stormed out of the kitchen with Kelly slowly following her. . . Kelly had laid on the bed while Chloe had disappeared into the shower to try to wind down. He had been thankful that he had showered at the hospital so he wasn't too worried about showering for the night. He felt like all of this was his fault. If it weren't for him then Chloe and their unborn child would not be in harms way. He almost hated himself for putting them in this sort of situation. Laying in the large bed, Kelly knew that Netflix was playing but he wasn't paying attention to what was on the screen. His eyes would occasionally glanced towards the opened bathroom door, seeing the woman standing in the steamy hot shower. It didn't help that he wanted to join her but couldn't. He was growing frustrated from everything, plus the pain of his injuries. The Lieutenant closed his eyes trying to clear his mind. He had focused on his breathing instead of the thoughts racing around in his mind. "Baby..." Kelly felt the bed dip and fluttered his eyes open to see that Chloe was out of the shower, dressed in a pair of panties and one of his fire t-shirts she had stolen from him, "You want to talk about it?" Chloe questioned to him. Kelly looked to her as she sat indian style on the mattress facing him, his arm stretching out to spread his hand across her thigh, "I don't even know where to start." Kelly found himself sighing, "You're pregnant and there is someone out there stalking you." Kelly began, "I can't help but to feel like it's my fault. Finding out someone is pregnant is suppose to be a happy time, and we have to stay in your father's house and hide out." Kelly continued, "Then I can't even actually do anything to protect you, because if I weren't injured I'd be out there hunting this piece of shit down." "Kell..." Chloe smiled softly, "It is a happy time. I mean granted, we didn't plan for this pregnancy to happen, but I believe that it happened for a reason. As much as I want to question why everything is happening the way it is, I can't." Chloe explained, "I would drive myself mad if I did that, the only thing I can do is be thankful that the baby is okay, I'm okay and you're okay. That's what I focus on." "But aren't you worried?" Kelly questioned, watching as the woman nodded her head. "Of course I'm worried." Chloe let out a laugh, "I'm extremely creeped out, but as I said, I choose to focus on the three of us being okay." Chloe stated, "We are safe in this house, and I know that Hank and the team will stop at nothing to make sure whoever is causing this shit storm is caught." Kelly gave a nod in understanding, "You're right." Kelly stated, "I need to just be grateful that we are all okay." Kelly rubbed his hand along her thigh, "What are you wanting? A boy or a girl?" Kelly questioned looking to the dark haired woman. "I hadn't really even thought about it yet." Chloe explained, "But I almost want a little girl. Train her to be a detective." Chloe teased and watched as Kelly shook his head no. "Let's agree that our child has a simple job, like a teacher, or librarian." Kelly joked as Chloe moved to lay against him. "As much as I would love that, this baby is going to be a cop or firefighter. It's in their bloodline." Chloe chuckled causing Kelly to groan, "Let's not worry about that just yet, we have quite a while until we get to that point." "You're right." Kelly joked, "I wouldn't mind having a boy though. If bean is a girl, god forbid she looks anything like you cause I'm gonna be in a world of trouble." Kelly added. As Chloe and Kelly laid in the bed talking about what their unborn child would look like, who they would act like more between them, the sound of a cell phone chiming interrupting them. Chloe had reached over Kelly to the night stand to check their phones and noticed that her screen was lighting up. Unknown. "It's him..." Chloe answered, "He's calling..." Chloe added quickly, grabbing the phone and rushing off the bed to her father. "Answer it..." Voight instructed. Chloe felt her stomach turn for a moment, her hand trembling as Kelly hobbled into the living room just as she answered the phone. "Hello?" 'Detective...it's so good to hear your voice...' "Why don't you tell me your name instead of leaving me guessing." Chloe suggested, as Kelly sat down on the couch, watching her intently. 'Soon enough Chloe, soon enough. If you want to know who I am, why don't you come meet me?' "That sounds great. Why don't you meet me at the station?" Chloe questioned causing the man to chuckle. 'Detective, don't play games. You wouldn't want anything to happen to you or that abomination you're carrying, now would you?' Kelly nearly lost his shit when he heard him speak of their child and went to move from the couch but Hank had stopped him. Hank had kept his hand on his un-injured shoulder. "You are obviously trying to get my attention, so tell me why." Chloe stated not entertaining his comment about the baby, "You have my attention, so say what you need to say." Chloe instructed cooly. '"I thought I would take you away from him since he took her away from me but then I saw you...you're so much better for me than she ever was. I see the angel that you are, being drown by his darkness. I can save you...I wasn't able to save her, but I know that I can save you." Chloe furrowed her eyebrows looking to her father, "Did you set my apartment on fire?" Chloe questioned. "It was suppose to be him in there, not you." "And why would you send all those photos of me and..." Chloe began but got cut off by the suspects voice. "Don't you dare say his name!" "Look Matthew, this needs to end before someone gets hurt." Chloe stated, "If you turn yourself in we can make a deal. I can meet you at the station, but if one of my team members find you, the deal is off the table." Chloe added, "Let's make this easy, okay?" "You'll meet me?" "I will meet you at the station, no where else." "Do you think I'm stupid Chloe?!" Chloe looked to her father who mouthed, 'Ruzek tracked his call' her body instantly relaxing at the news, knowing that the team was going to get this creep behind bars where he belonged. Chloe knew that it was just a matter of time for the team to bust down his door, and found herself zoning out as he began to rant about how Kelly was tainting her mind, that he wasn't as stupid as she thought. "CHICAGO PD!" Chloe heard the sound through the phone and found herself crying as she ended the call, never had felt that huge sense of relief. Kelly instantly pushing himself up off the couch and rushing to her as she fell to her knees.

This is my @thewitchersecretsanta gift for @kat-atomic, who mentioned liking modern AU’s with witcher powers etc. and humor. I hope this delivers! Thank you so much @goodheavensgwen for betaing this! <3 Note: This is largely fluffy and ridiculous, but there’s some canon typical mention of blood and injury.

Read on AO3

There are very few things Jaskier can genuinely say he enjoys about working the night shift at the diner. There’s the 3 a.m. rush of customers when all the bars close who usually tip pretty decently. There’s the fact that Triss, the night manager, doesn’t mind if he spends his downtime writing music when his sidework is done. And there’s the occasional regular Jaskier finds himself enamored with.

Like the one on the sidewalk just outside, for instance, who Jaskier privately suspects is some sort of cryptid. With good reason! He only ever seems to turn up in the quietest part of Jaskier’s shift. He doesn’t look old by any stretch of the imagination, and he doesn’t strike Jaskier as the sort to commit to any sort of high maintenance beauty regimen, all of which is at odds with the silvery white hair that falls just a touch past his shoulders. If the hair weren’t noteworthy enough, his unnaturally gold eyes are haunting, like nothing Jaskier has ever seen. Not that he means to look, mind you, but they’re the kind of thing that sticks with Jaskier long after the man is gone. Appearances aside, there’s something about this particular customer that discourages questions and he always pays with cash, so despite coming in on a somewhat regular basis over the last year and a half - not often enough that Jaskier can work out any sort of pattern, but enough that there’s a table Jaskier has more or less decided is his - Jaskier doesn’t even know his name.

The blood is new though.

“Holy mother of- Are you okay?” Jaskier asks when he looks up and sees the man trudging through the door. Is that a limp? It’s hard to tell if he’s hurt or just exhausted. It seems like maybe hurt because that’s definitely blood matting his hair. Probably. Jaskier vaguely remembers hitting his head on the slide when he was little and it looking a bit like that, anyway. And if that’s blood, it suggests that the substance making the guy’s shirt stick unnaturally to his body is also blood, which kinda tracks with the fact that one of the sleeves is ripped to shreds.

The guy freezes, leaving Jaskier with the distinct impression that he’d hoped to come in unnoticed. As much as Jaskier enjoys listening to his gravelly voice, there’s nothing comforting about the reply. “It’s not mine.”

“Right. Okay. That’s- That’s a completely normal and not concerning thing to say. Also, I’m going to go ahead and call bullshit because your arm is… umm. Oh fuck! Your arm. Just, uhh… hang on a sec, okay?” Jaskier rushes off to the kitchen for the diner’s first aid kit, a few bar towels, and, after a hurried explanation to Triss, one of the work uniform button down shirts. First aid isn’t something that was really covered in training, but leaving someone bleeding in the foyer is almost certainly some kind of health code violation. Whatever the case, not wanting his favorite customer to bleed to death in the middle of his shift wins out over entertaining the notion that said customer might possibly be dangerous.

The foyer is empty when Jaskier returns, which admittedly makes more sense than the guy having stayed put. He’s undeniably mysterious, but he doesn’t seem unhinged enough to just wander in here like that without some kind of reason. Jaskier pokes his head into the restroom, assuming the man has gone there and… isn’t wrong. It’s just that he’s also not in a state of dress Jaskier would expect in a public space. The tattered remains of his shirt sit in the sink, and without the fabric to hide it, the gashes at the back of his shoulder, just where it meets his arm, are rather prominent. Oddly, that quells any real concern Jaskier might have had about what events led him here because they look like claw marks rather than anything human. Equally prominent are a really quite alarming number of other scars that litter the man’s back and chest from what Jaskier can see in the mirror.

The man has never struck Jaskier as particularly polite. He speaks very little. He never smiles. He always looks vaguely put upon when Jaskier tries to be nice to him. So it’s strangely endearing to see that, despite Jaskier being pretty sure he communicated he’d be right back, the man still looks sort of surprised to see him. That surprise only grows more visible when he sees the supplies Jaskier is holding. “I thought you might want to get cleaned up.”

The look the man gives him, like he’s expecting some kind of catch, makes Jaskier’s chest ache. Honestly, who does he interact with that getting help when he’s clearly injured is… not the expectation? The guy offers a quiet thanks that is very, very at odds with the whole possible (but probably not) serial killer vibe he’s got going on at the moment when Jaskier sets the supplies on the counter and starts to head back for the door.

“Do you need me to call someone for you… uh, sorry, I don’t actually know your name,” Jaskier finds himself asking, not sure why he can’t bring himself to just leave.

In the mirror the man’s brows crinkle in confusion, or maybe exasperation and he shakes his head. “No.”

“Are you sure?” Jaskier asks, watching the man awkwardly try to balance a pad against his wounded shoulder and wrap gauze around it without nearly enough hands. “It kinda looks like those might need stitches.”

“I said no.” Definitely exasperation this time, probably at Jaskier, but maybe also at his current predicament. Tape would be better than the roll of gauze, but there isn’t any.

“Right. Okay…” The reasonable thing to do would be to go back to work and just leave the guy to it. It’s not his job. They don’t know each other. The guy’s insistence on not wanting him to call for assistance should probably be suspicious. But, Jaskier has never done the reasonable thing once in his entire life and he doesn’t intend to start now. If he can’t get the guy actual, maybe qualified assistance, he also can’t bring himself to walk away. “Can I help?”

The man shifts in obvious discomfort, but eventually he concedes with a terse nod. He silently holds the pad against his shoulder while Jaskier unrolls the gauze and tries very hard to keep his eyes mostly averted. It’s that or Jaskier is going to end up ogling the guy’s quite frankly gorgeous everything and this really doesn’t seem like the time for that.

“Geralt,” the man says sort of out of the blue as Jaskier winds the gauze around the injury. It startles Jaskier into looking up. “My name.”

“Oh!” Geralt. Jaskier repeats it in his head. It’s nice to finally have a name to go with Geralt’s unfairly pretty face. He’s being rude though, Jaskier realizes, and shakes his head and ties off the bandaging. “I’m Jaskier.”

“I know,” Geralt says softly, like it’s some sort of confession.

Right. Of course. He’s probably introduced himself a dozen times. But customers usually forget his name, so it makes Jaskier smile anyway.

“So… Geralt. I don’t want to pry or anything.” The way Geralt tenses, Jaskier is sorry for opening his mouth. But, contrary to what everyone else in his life seems to think, he is not entirely without a self-preservation instinct. He’s not blind to how weird this whole situation is, even though he’s pretty sure Geralt didn’t actually kill anyone. “Did something happen? You’re not in some kind of trouble, are you?”

“No.”

“Right.” It seems whatever strange set of circumstances made Geralt inclined to talk to him has passed. “Well, that’s illuminating.”

Geralt’s expression scrunches like he’s just bitten into a lemon. “It’s not important.”

Inexplicably, that hurts. Not for his own sake. Geralt has no reason to confide in Jaskier specifically. It’s just that it seems like Geralt’s default assumption that he won’t be trusted, coupled with literally everything else Jaskier has seen tonight, paints a sort of lonely, heartbreaking picture. Or, maybe that’s just Jaskier’s inner poet talking. He’s never entirely certain. All the same, he offers what he hopes is a friendly smile. “Suit yourself, but you should know if you don’t tell me, I’m going to make something up and it will be absolutely ridiculous.”

Geralt’s expression smoothes out into a careful sort of indifference. Jaskier is sort of tempted to linger, but there’s really no excuse, and the longer he stays, the more likely Jaskier is to say something that’s just going to embarrass them both. Reluctantly, he steps away. “Well, I’ll just, you know, leave you to it.”

***

By the time Jaskier comes back out into the dining room, Triss looks like she’d been about thirty seconds away from coming in to check on them herself. As he assures her that it’s not actually as bad as he’d first thought, and no she really doesn’t need to call an ambulance or anything, Jaskier finds himself very, very glad he had been in too much of a rush to share his initial concerns with her or he suspects this conversation would be going very differently.

But Triss lets things be, and Jaskier tries to get back to normal.

It’s very convenient, Jaskier thinks, that Geralt always orders the same thing. In retrospect, that might be because he’s some kind of world champion at avoiding conversation at all costs, but Jaskier assumes he’s just a creature of habit. Probably. Either way, Jaskier puts in an order and pours a cup of coffee, glad for something to busy himself with while he waits.

Much to Jaskier’s surprise, Geralt looks more or less himself when he emerges from the restroom. His hair is wet, probably from rinsing the mess out of it, but with long sleeves covering the gash Jaskier had patched up, only the slight unevenness in his step gives away that anything is wrong at all. That and the heavy sigh he breathes out when he finally sits down in the diner booth. Jaskier has heard that one before and wonders if Geralt makes a habit of coming in here when he’s hurting or if that sigh is just one born of exhaustion.

Geralt’s expression does a funny thing when he sees the coffee mug. It might be surprise, but Jaskier can’t think for the life of him why. “Thank you.”

It’s the same quiet, sort of reluctant tone Geralt had thanked him with earlier, and dear lord is no one ever just kind to him or something? Nevermind that this is literally Jaskier’s job. He wants to ask, but he can’t imagine the question going over well, so Jaskier leans against the side of the bench opposite Geralt and smiles, gesturing at the uniform shirt. “It’s a good look. You might have a real future here.”

By some miracle, that pulls what Jaskier thinks might be a smile from Geralt. It’s a small, subtle thing like Geralt isn’t quite certain how the expression fits on his face, and gone almost immediately, but it was there, if just for a second. “I’ll keep it in mind if I ever need a new line of work.”

“I mean, if my line of work tore up my wardrobe like that, I’d probably have noped out already,” Jaskier jokes.

“Hmm,” Geralt replies, staring resolutely into his coffee mug.

“So, I gotta ask,” Jaskier ventures when a few seconds pass and Geralt doesn’t glare at him for lingering. “Not that I mind, but there are like, a dozen places I’d be more apt to patch myself up than a diner bathroom.”

“Everything else is closed,” Geralt says from behind his mug, amber eyes briefly fluttering shut.

“Of course. That explains… Wait. That doesn’t explain anything. There’s literally a hospital two miles down the road. I’d probably-” Jaskier pauses when Geralt’s eyes crack open again, fixating on him. Something about it makes Jaskier far less certain of what he’s saying, and it comes out with a questioning sort of uptick at the end. “You know, try… there?”

“They don’t tend to be keen on my kind,” Geralt replies gruffly.

Jaskier has no idea what that means. “Uhh… uninsured?”

“A witcher.” Geralt glowers at Jaskier, but he says the word like it’s physically painful, a mouth full of broken glass.

Jaskier has never met a witcher, he’s pretty sure, but he’s heard the stories, same as everyone. Witchers are supposedly nearly as dangerous as the creatures they hunt, more monsters than men and never to be trusted. They’re not quiet and unobtrusive and startled by acts of kindness, surely. So, either Geralt is not what he seems or the stories are bullshit, and given the way this particular witcher looks like he’s braced for a blow, Jaskier is willing to bet it’s the latter.

Jaskier can’t help wanting to understand what kind of life Geralt must live that this is where he ends up in the small hours of the morning, injured and seemingly alone. It makes him privately furious, but somehow he doesn’t think the spectacle will be appreciated, even though it’s on Geralt’s behalf. Maybe especially because it’s on Geralt’s behalf, judging by the efforts the witcher goes to to be unobtrusive. So, Jaskier doesn’t say the first thing that comes to mind about how rotten humanity is. Instead, he says the second thing that comes to mind, which is equally unfortunate. “Well, that explains your eyes.”

Geralt’s expression goes stormy, and Jaskier only belatedly realizes he must have taken that as an insult. But about the time Jaskier opens his mouth to explain, Geralt seems to gather that he might have misunderstood. His brows crease as he looks at Jaskier, as if trying to puzzle something out. “What about them?”

“They’re beautiful,” Jaskier blurts out, which, oh that was not what he meant to say at all. Melting through the floor would be great about now. Or maybe disappearing entirely. Really, anything but standing here with Geralt staring at him like he’s grown a second head. Scrambling for an excuse to leave that won’t look like he’s running away - even though he definitely is - Jaskier forces a smile, taking a step backwards. “I’ll just… go get you some more coffee.”

Suddenly discovering his escaped sense of self-preservation, Jaskier doesn’t come back with coffee. His curiosity is tempered by embarrassment, so he stays away until Geralt’s order is up and he has an actual legitimate reason to drift back to the guy’s table. Jaskier does his best to straddle the line between friendly and professional as he sets down the plate. He has every intention of leaving Geralt to eat in peace, so Jaskier startles a little when Geralt speaks up before he can leave. “It was a basilisk.”

“A… like the ‘turn you into stone’ kind of basilisk?” Jaskier turns back and sort of wishes he hadn’t because Geralt looks rather sorry for having said anything.

“That’s just a myth. They don’t do that,” Geralt counters. Jaskier waits for him to expound on that further, but he doesn’t.

Jaskier has never seen a basilisk either, so it seems entirely natural to ask, “Then, what do they do?”

A funny thing happens. To Jaskier’s complete and utter surprise Geralt talks. Not in the teeth pulling miserable way he’s said most everything else, but like it’s a conversation he genuinely doesn’t mind having. Jaskier keeps half an eye on the door, but it’s Monday night, so it’s no great surprise that no one else comes in.

In the absence of other customers to tend to, Jaskier eventually just slides into the seat across from Geralt to listen. It’s not subject matter that Jaskier has ever considered, but it’s interesting if only for how it relates to Geralt. Huffing out a laugh, Jaskier cuts in. “To hear you tell it, people are as stupid and superstitious as they are… unkind. I suppose next thing you’ll be telling me is that vampires don’t actually burn up in the sunlight.”

Geralt pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs for definitely not the first time tonight. Honestly, Jaskier is coming to be just a bit fond of it. “They don’t.”

“Wait, really?”

Jaskier is thrilled to discover he doesn’t even have to press for details. Before he knows it, he’s learned more about vampires than he even thought there was to know. Along with fiends, leshens, and what might possibly be the entire list of contracts Geralt has taken in the last month. There’s a consistent thread through all of it that leaves Jaskier warm and maybe a bit embarrassed that he’d ever thought Geralt could be dangerous. “You don’t talk about them like they’re things you kill.”

“I don’t if I can help it. It’s not their fault humans sprawl out into the places they live.” Geralt thumbs at the handle of his coffee mug, staring at the contents that have long since gone cold.

Desperate to drive off the strange sense of melancholy creeping in, Jaskier grasps for some other direction he can steer the conversation. Hastily, he runs through what Geralt has talked about already, and gets a bit stuck on a concerning thought, given how often the witcher is here. “So, are there a lot of monsters around here?”

Crisis averted, Jaskier thinks. Geralt’s shoulders tense across the table, but at least he doesn’t seem sad anymore. “Not really.”

That really just brings more questions than it answers. “Oh, well that’s a relief, I guess. I’d hate to be out hiking and get eaten by a noonwraith or something.”

“Noonwraiths don’t live in forests. Don’t even live, really. They’re...” Geralt makes a face that Jaskier assumes means he’s caught on that it was a joke. That said, Jaskier admires his commitment to finishing anyway. “More like trapped spirits.”

“You’re the expert,” Jaskier says agreeably, not quite managing to stifle the urge to laugh. “So what is it that keeps bringing you here, then? Do witchers have territories or something? Do you live around here? Actually, no. That’s a stupid question. If you lived around here you wouldn’t have wound up here like that…”

He expects the look of annoyance he seems to have gotten very good at drawing from Geralt so far. What he doesn’t expect is the way Geralt’s gaze darts away, looking at pretty much anything but Jaskier. “No.”

“No what?”

“All of it. This is just on the way to a lot of the places I end up,” Geralt clarifies with a heavy sigh. It’s a lie, Jaskier is pretty sure, because this podunk down isn’t really on the way to anywhere, and the rest of Geralt’s answer confirms as much. “... ish.”

“The coffee isn’t that good,” Jaskier teases. He doesn’t get it, but he does like Geralt, no matter how taciturn the witcher might be.

“It’s not.” Geralt tenses where he sits, and Jaskier thinks maybe he ought not to have pressed. As strange as today has been for him, it’s probably been awful for Geralt. Only Geralt doesn’t look upset. If anything, he ducks his head, a bit sheepish, muttering something under his breath.

Jaskier doesn’t even realize he’s leaned in closer until Geralt’s eyes widen just a fraction. “Sorry. I didn’t catch that.”

The way Geralt scowls, not at Jaskier but just in general, he thinks he’s not going to get an answer. He especially doesn’t think he’s going to get this particular answer, and yet Geralt very abruptly surrenders. “I don’t come here for the coffee.”

Oh. Jaskier bows his head to hide the smile that tugs at his lips. Somehow, it’s comforting to think that Geralt, who faces down monsters and seems generally put together is as awkward as he is. So much so that it takes him a second to even realize Geralt is maybe flirting with him. Definitely trying to judging by the vaguely terrified, deer in the headlights expression on the witcher’s face.

“I’m much better off the clock.” Jaskier immediately slaps a hand over his mouth, but it’s far too late. This is the point where Geralt realizes he’s made a terrible mistake. This is the moment where he decides maybe not to come back.

Whatever Jaskier expects, it’s not Geralt’s laughter, a surprised huff that sprawls out into something more concrete. It’s the loveliest sound Jaskier thinks he’s ever heard, and he can’t even bring himself to mind that it’s a little bit at his expense. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Before Jaskier can say anything, flirtatious or otherwise, there’s the familiar chime of someone coming through the door. Not that he needs the door to alert him. The raucous laughter does a good job on its own. That’d be the 3 a.m. crowd.

“I should… get back to work,” Jaskier reluctantly concedes and he’s pretty sure he doesn’t imagine the faintly disappointed look on Geralt’s face.

“Jaskier,” Geralt murmurs just as Jaskier is about to leave, softly enough he almost misses it. When he turns to look, the witcher’s jaw works for a moment before he says, “Thank you. For all this.”

“Any time,” Jaskier replies, not entirely surprised to find he means it. Even if nothing comes of their newfound camaraderie, maybe he’ll get a song out of it or something.

The 3 a.m. rush keeps him busy after that, and Jaskier only really makes it back to Geralt’s table to refill his coffee and bring him the check. By the time things slow down, Geralt is out the door, which is a good thing, honestly. He’s gotta sleep some time, Jaskier supposes.

Jaskier watches Geralt’s car disappear before he goes to clean up the table. As always, Geralt has left everything neatly stacked (yet another reason he’s Jaskier’s favorite customer). There are a few bills, and it’s only as he’s pocketing them that he notices writing on the receipt Geralt left behind.

A phone number is scrawled across the slip of paper, but it’s the note underneath that makes Jaskier grin as he pockets it for later.

Just in case you run into any noonwraiths in the woods.

(Fic Masterpost)

Gas station encounter - Part I

I hate this day, I really hate it. It´s pouring, I got soaked on my way to my car this morning because my fucking umbrella broke due to the wind and I arrived late and very wet at the hospital. Luckily I have everything there to fix my appearance just in time for the big meeting with very famous doctors in our hospital.

It didn’t go well is the best I can say about it. I sigh and pull into the gas station. I would rather like to go home directly but I need to get gas.

I get out in London´s cold and wet weather, pulling my coat tighter around my body. I shut the door a bit too aggressive and turn around to get the pistol. As I move, I can feel a rip and the sound of ripping clothes. Oh no, please not my very expensive and very new coat, I think as I turn back around and look at what I ripped.

It is my coat that’s hanging in my closed door. Dangling in the wind and I growl frustrated as I look at my back, to see how much I destroyed my coat.

“Ma´am please hurry up, there are other people here too,” an elderly man says annoyed and I sigh, as I pull the gas pistol in my car. I hate humans and I definitely hate this day. I see a young man in short sports trousers, a T-Shirt and a beanie, who is talking on the phone while filling up his car. This is irresponsible and while the pump fills my car, I walk over to him and say:

“Not to be rude, but you are risking everybody´s lives here when you use your phone. That’s dangerous and most of all, forbidden” the guy turns around and I freeze. Holy shit, this is Harry Styles right in front of me. I look at the car and see a red sports car, probably very expensive. He smiles at me and says:

“I´ll call you back, Jeff” he hangs up and shoves his phone in his pocket.

“You are right, I am sorry. Please forgive me” he says and I roll my eyes at him. I still have a bad day and I am not in the mood for an arrogant pop star.

“Fine, just please don’t light up a cigarette, when I turn around” I growl and head back to my car. I try to catch another glimpse of him, but he seems to be done and walks inside to pay. This is a bit odd, to see someone like him do totally normal things like getting gas. My tank seems to be full and I pull the pistol out, as Harry comes back out of the station. He winks at me and I shoot a half-smile in his direction.

He drives off and I sigh, as I walk in to pay.

“Number 4 please,” I say to the cashier and he nods, looking at his screen.

“Actually, it already has been paid. The young man with the red sports car took care of it” he says and I look confused. He paid for my gas? Why?

“Oh…okay then. Eh…have a nice day” I reply and get back to my car. No one will ever believe me, that Harry Styles paid my gas.

 A week later I stop at my usual gas station. Every day, when I drive along this road I watch out for his red sports car but I never see him. Maybe it was just a stop far away from home. Today has been a very nice day. I finished work early, the weather is nice and I have a date later tonight with my friends in a fancy bar. Becca is having a small birthday party there and because she just finished her dissertation, she invited us to this nice bar.

I get my gas, as I see a big black car with tinted windows stopping behind me. While I wait for my tank to be filled, I can see Harry exiting the car.

“Hello there,” he says and smirks at me. I turn a light shade of red and return the smile.

“Hello. Thank you for paying my gas last time, but how comes?” I ask and lean against my Audi.

“I figured you had a bad day and wanted to brighten it up. Did it work?” he asks and puts the pistol in his car.

“Sure did. I really had a bad day, I am sorry for scolding at you. That wasn’t very nice of me,” I say and look at him. Today he wears a normal pair of jeans and a white shirt. His hair is pulled back and put into a bun.

“That´s great. Had a better day today?” he asks and turns to face me. I nod and he comes closer, extending his hand.

“Great, I am Harry,” he says and I chuckle. Of course, I know who you are.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you. Don’t you have staff to get gas?” I ask and he raises an eyebrow.

“No, I don’t. I try to do as many normal things, as I can” he answers and I laugh a little.

“I am surprised you are not already swarmed by fans,”

“They don’t expect me here, like you. It´s kind of funny that we meet again at the same station” he giggles and I shrug my shoulders.

“I use this station every week because it is on my way home from work” my voice sounds a bit raspy and I cough, as my pistol clicks and tells me that my tank is full. I go inside and pay for the gas and on my way out, I meet Harry in the door again.

“Have a nice day, Y/N. Until next time” he winks at me and I laugh, doubting that I will meet him a third time. That would be way too much luck.

“Bye, you too,” I reply and walk back to my car to get home.

 I pull on the hem of my skirt and look in the mirror one last time. I chose a dark green skirt, which ends at my knees and a white shirt with some straps on the back. It is very flowy and I feel good in it, despite it showing skin from behind. I dressed up a bit, put more dramatic make-up on and chose a bit of jewellery to go along with my outfit. I am happy with my looks and grab my dark coat. I am still very sad that I ripped my new trenchcoat, but this one will do.

I arrive a bit late at the bar, but I already texted when I was on my way. My friends are waiting with a delicious margarita for me.

“Hey, I´m sorry for being late. Becca, all the best wishes for your birthday AND your dissertation. I am so proud of you, lawyer” I say to her and hug her very tightly.

“Oh thank you, lovie. I am so grateful you could make it today. Wouldn’t be the same without you,” she smiles at me as I kiss her cheek. After we hugged, I put down my coat and bag and greet the other girls warmly.

“This is really fancy, Becca. Do I need to behave here?” I ask and everybody laughs. We all know that I am very sassy, especially when I have been drinking.

“Isn´t this crazy? A few years ago we sat in a crappy bar and discussed If we could afford another drink and today we are here, all grown up and fancy. No more ugly clothes and horrible haircuts, what a glow-up” Lisa says and we all nod. She is right, this is amazing.

“Just look at Becca and Kate, our lawyers and Y/N our doctor, very successful. I own my own business and Lisa is managing her hotel. We really did it” I smile at the table and remember all those funny evenings in pubs around the corner of our university. It was a great time and I wouldn’t want to miss it for anything. And I love these girls, we grew really close and I am so glad to have these four girls in my life.

“To us and of course to our birthday girl Becca” I propose and hold up my glass. We salute each other and then we hand her our birthday present. We organized a full weekend at a spa outside of London with all of us. She loves it, I can see that before she even says anything. We always complain about not having enough time together and this was the first that shot through our minds.

The bar starts to fill a bit and around 10 pm every table is taken. We giggle, drink and snack on some of the food on our table.

“I really need a wee, who want to come?” asks Lisa and I get up.

“I do, I need to pee as well. You know where?” she nods and we walk next to each other.

“So, how has life been to you?” she asks me and I giggle.

“Pretty good actually. I am happy and no I haven’t met someone, I know you are going to ask,” she grins and opens the door to the restrooms.

“You are right, I was going to ask” she replies and I shake my head at her. Always the same question. When we stand next to each other at the sink and wash our hands I remember who I met today.

“Oh, I have met someone. Twice to be honest” I laugh and dry my hands, while Lisa stares at me very curious.

“Who? Tell me! Who is it you are interested in and how did you meet and is he nice and oh my god, this is crazy. You never meet men, you like. I am excited” she claps her hands and I roll my eyes at her.

“No, I am not interested in him. We ran into each other a week ago at the gas station and today again. I was rude to him the other day, so I apologized and he took it very well he tried to brighten up my day when we first met and paid for my gas while I was still outside” I smile at the thought of him being so nice.

“You like him. What´s his name?” she asks and I look around, to be sure no one hears what I say.

“It´s Harry Styles, I am not joking,” I say and she rolls her eyes at me, walking past me.

“I hate you, you always make fun of me. I just want you to be happy and you make fun of me” she scowls and leaves the restrooms.

“Lisa, I am serious. It really happened” I assure her but she just shakes her head. I never thought that she wouldn’t believe me. I didn’t even think of that, but I get it. I wouldn’t believe her either.

I sit down and feel someone staring at me. I see up and meet familiar eyes and a familiar smirk. I smile at him and feel my heartbeat fasten. What a weird coincidence that we meet again today. While everybody chats and laughs, I try to stay involved in the conversation but I catch myself several times looking at him. And he looks at me, smiles and looks away as if he is shy and insecure. My girls haven’t seen him yet and he seems to be unbothered by fans.

Sometime later we move our little group closer to the bar as other tables do the same. I stay between two of my friends as I feel a tap on my shoulder and I see Lisas and Beccas face staring in shock behind me. I know who it is without turning around and I smile, while I face him.

“Hello Harry, long time no see,” I laugh and he chuckles, while his eyes wander over my face. They are mesmerizing green and maybe they are a little bit clouded from the alcohol.

“Hey, Y/N. Told you, we would meet again. Hello, I´m Harry” he introduces himself with a slight wave at my friends and rests his eyes on me again.

“So is your day still good?” he asks and I nod.

“Yes and yours? You seem to have a good day every day” he laughs and shakes his head.

“Absolutely not but I try to make the best out of the bad days….Ladies, may I invite you all to a drink and to join us at our table?” he asks politely and my friends nod in excitement. He grins at me and we follow him to his friends. We introduce ourselves and everybody takes a seat, mine is next to Harry.

He orders some drinks for everybody and I feel Lisas eyes on me. She looks apologetically and I smile, it´s okay I am not mad at her. We smile at each other and I look at everybody chatting and having fun, when the drinks arrive.

“Cheers to new friends,” Harry says and we clink glasses with everybody.

“I can´t believe we ran into each other again,” he says and I smile at him, looking at his beautiful face.

“It´s kinda funny, right. With which of your cars are you here?” I ask him teasingly and he chuckles.

“With none. I came with a cab” he smiles and I can´t help it but the butterflies in my stomach erupt violently. Oh please don’t fall for a fucking superstar. I beg myself as Becca asks:

“How do you know each other?” the table falls silent and I look at Harry.

“We met at a gas station and she scowled at me for using my phone. Do you want to know, what she said after I apologized to her?” he asks and I turn red and shake my head, but surely everybody wants to know.

“She said quote: Please don’t light a cigarette when I turn around and I was so surprised how sassy she was. She obviously knew who I was but she just mocked me nevertheless. I liked that and surprisingly we met again today and she apologized, that’s how we met” he explains and leaves out, that he even paid for my gas.

“He paid for my gas the first time, because he thought it would brighten my day” I add and my friends say “aaaaaw” very unison.

“By the way, that is just Y/N. Always straight forward and sassy. We love her for being the way she is, she is the best” says Kate and the others agree.

“I like her too” Harry murmurs only so I can hear it and I redden again. Does he really like me? That’s insane.

“You are not bad yourself” I wink at him and he shoots me a crooked grin.

“So, why are you always at the same gas station?” he asks and I look a bit confused. Isn´t that obvious?

“It´s on my way home. I drive home every day so when I need to get gas, I stop there” I explain and he nods. Maybe the workday of a popstar looks more different than I thought. He probably hasn’t the same way home from work every day.

“Oh ok, that makes sense. What is your day job?” he looks at me and I turn my eyes down to my hands, which are nervously fiddling with each other. I am in fact a bit nervous, who wouldn’t be when Harry Styles is talking to you?

“I am a paediatrician” I reply and I can see his eyes light up.

Part II

Hello lovelies,

I hope you liked chapter 1 of this short story. It was planned as a usual OS but I think it has now over 30 pages in word. Sorry not sorry, leave me some replies so I know you wanna read it. I´m not really sure about this one tbh.

Love, xx

Julia

Today was a beautiful day, just as it always was around these parts. The sun shone down onto the Earth in tranquil rays, heating things up to a comfortable 75°F. In most every way, it was an ideal summer day in (C/N). The grass was green, the birds were out chirping, and yet you walked to school wearing a heavy coat. To everyone you passed by on your walk, you looked rather ridiculous, but everyone in your classes understood completely. Every single one of your classrooms had been absolutely frigid as of late, and no one could explain why.

You'd talked to each of your teachers about the severe cold, with their classes usually being about 40 to 50°F, but none knew of rhyme nor reason for it. The only lead you had to go off of was the transfer in of a girl from some unknown school overseas. The temperature drops had lined up with the girl's arrival at your school after all. What was more, each of your teachers had told you that the temperature was only different during the class periods in which you in the classroom - at all other times, those classrooms wouldn't be so frigid. But it wasn't just you in there at those periods; this mysterious girl from overseas had somehow ended up with a schedule that was identical to yours, meaning that you were always in the same classes at the same time. But surely such an odd phenomena couldn't be caused by a person, could it?

Those were the words that ran through your mind as you stepped into your first period English class to see that the girl's assigned seat was empty. The classroom was a normal, bearable temperature so you took off your coat as you took your seat. You couldn't help but feel relieved that you weren't going to have to bundle up like it was winter for once, leaning back in your seat with an enthused sigh. Such good fortune would never have lasted however, and mere seconds later the purple-haired girl trudged into the room and instantly the room was plummeted into the cold that you'd become used to at this point. As you tugged your coat back on less than a minute after you'd initially removed it, you couldn't help but ogle at the girl as she took her seat directly behind you. She wore the same outfit everyday - a white sweatshirt with blue sleeves and a tank top underneath, coupled with a light brown checkered skirt, with long dark and light purple striped stockings along with ordinary white shoes and a yellow pendant hanging from a necklace around her neck. Like she always was, she was sucking on a lollipop as she took her seat. This was Mizore Shirayuki, the new kid who had seemed to usher in the cold.

Slowly, the classroom filled up as the other students began filing in and taking their seats, each of them wearing heavy coats much like your own. Class started out as it always did, your teacher taking roll of the students. You mumbled a bored "here" when your name was reached, and began to zone out.

However, you were almost immediately brought back to your senses as you heard your teacher repeatedly call out Mizore's name. You turned to look at her since apparently she wasn't answering the roll call, and found yourself staring directly into her eyes. She was completely motionless and unblinking, laser focused on just one thing: you. A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold ran up your back as you quickly wheeled around to face forward again. Eventually you heard the girl mumble the word "here" in much the same way as you'd said it, same inflexions and everything. It was as if she were trying to say it precisely as you had.

That thought was a little too creepy for you as you began to space out once more, but throughout the entire period you could feel the icy stare from behind you.

The next period, biology class, went much the same way as English had gone. The staring, the strange attempt at copying the exact way in which you'd said here, the whole shebang. In a strange sort of way, you found it to be sort of fascinating; you'd really never had any contact with Mizore - you couldn't even truly say that you knew what her voice sounded like.

As per usual, biology was a slog to get through. As you walked to your third period class, geography, an idea popped into your mind. Why not test out just how much Mizore was copying you? You were so caught up in your own mind that you never noticed the girl who you were thinking about stalking mere feet behind you.

You took your seat in geography class and Mizore took a seat directly behind you, just like always. Roll call began soon, and your idea came into play. The teacher called out your name and you quickly jumped up onto your feet.

"(Y/N) reporting for duty, sir!" You shouted out, raising an arm into a salute before quickly falling back into your seat. Everyone else in the class gave you strange looks - everyone except for Mizore. She continued to give her unblinking stare. You bit your bottom lip in embarrassment, knowing that you had just made yourself look rather foolish in the name of trying to learn more about the foreign girl behind you. Soon after all the buzz had settled down, Mizore's name was called. Sure enough, the girl slowly stood and saluted.

"Mizore reporting for duty, sir." She said, though far less enthused than you had been when you'd said it - this girl was fixated on you for whatever reason. About halfway through the lesson you excused yourself to the restroom, feeling Mizore's eyes on you all the way to the door.

In the restroom you went up to the sink, leaning upon them and looking at yourself in the mirror. Your mind was racing at a million miles a second.

Why was she copying you? Had she always been doing this and you'd just never noticed? What was it about you in particular that she wanted to copy?

You took a deep breath and turned on the sink, splashing your face with cold water as you gently sighed.

That's when the screaming started.

Your head whipped to the side as you became conscious of another temperature drop, this one much more severe than all the others: it couldn't have possibly still been above freezing. The door to the bathroom flung open and in walked Mizore Shirayuki. But she looked different: her hair had turned into large shards of ice, and so had her fingers.

"Mizore," you managed to choke out. "Mizore, what the fuck is going on?"

Mizore's cheeks reddened as you said her name, causing her to look briefly away from you before returning her gaze, staring directly into your eyes.

"You don't have to worry anymore." She said calmly, deaf to the continued screaming coming from up and down the hallways. "Because from this day forth, I swear that I'll protect you."

You took a step backwards away from her as the bathroom door swung shut again, leaving just the two of alone. You shuddered as the temperature continued to plummet and Mizore continued to approach you. Within seconds, her face was hovering naught but inches away from yours.

"Please, tell me what's going on right now." You said weakly, struggling to keep your voice from cracking under the stress. Mizore smiled at you and reached out, taking her hand in yours and pulling you out into the hallway. What you saw could only be described as nightmarish.

The hallways of your high school had turned into an icy hell, completely frozen over. That wouldn't be too horrific, but what actually made you want to vomit was all of the bodies that were impaled on long icicle spikes, staining the ice beneath each body red with blood. No one was moving as far as you could tell, as they each body was almost completely frozen. You could count at least nine in your view, but you had no doubt that if not the whole school, the classroom that you had just left would be the scene of a massacre as well.

"What do you think?" Mizore asked in a tone that was sickeningly sweet given the situation.

"I... I..." You tried to speak, but before any real words could come out, you vomited. You couldn't hold it back any longer, throwing up all over the ice beneath your feet. While you were busy puking your brains out, you felt something cold wrap its way around your neck. On one hand, you wanted to know what it was, but on the other hand you just didn't care. There was so much more than that on your mind at that point in time.

"Do you know why I did this for you?" Mizore said in a cold voice, still squeezing your hand. You remained silent, retching to try and fully vacate the contents of your stomach onto the floor. She took your lack of a response as you wanting her to spell it out for you. "You see, you and I are the same. Neither of us have any friends, we're both outsiders. We both know what's it's like to be different from everyone else. But it doesn't matter anymore, now does it?"

"What..." You sputtered out. "What are you?"

You watched a very menacing grin form across Mizore's face.

"I'm your guardian angel."

(´・ω・`)?

How much time had passed?

You honestly couldn't tell. Your entire life, uprooted and shattered in just a single afternoon. Who could see something of this magnitude coming? You reminisced on the thought you'd had pertaining to the fact that no human could've possibly been affecting the temperature in the way that Mizore had been. Well, as it turned out, you were right. No human could be capable of such a thing. In this case you weren't dealing with a human at all.

You'd passed out in the school shortly after Mizore had proclaimed herself your guardian angel, awakening sometime thereafter on a soft mattress in an unlit room. It took some time for your eyes to adjust, but once they did, all that you could make out was the mattress on which you'd just woke up, a few pillows strewn about the place, and a shut door up a flight of stairs across from you. From what you could tell, you were in some kind of unfinished basement. Every fibre of your body screamed at you to get up, bust down that door if it was locked, and then run away without ever looking back. But of course it would never be just as simple as that. You hadn't even realised how much the pace of your breathing had quickened as you looked down at yourself, finding that you had been stripped down to nothing but your underwear.

Before you had the chance to truly question the strange scenario in which you had found yourself, the air around you suddenly dropped in temperature, causing you to hug yourself tight to try and stay warm. Of course, you knew that this sudden chill could only mean one thing, as up the stairs you heard a lock click and watched as the door to the basement creaked open.

It was Mizore. The girl was wearing the same outfit that she'd been wearing at school, as if not all that much time had passed since you'd lost consciousness. Mizore flicked a light switch as she stepped through the doorway, illuminating the basement fully. Looking around again, you realised that in the darkness of the windowless room, you'd already put together everything that there was to see down there. Mizore shut the door behind her before she walked down the stairs, you know seeing that she carries a space heater with her, something that you're rather overjoyed to see.

As Mizore walked up to you, you reached out to grab the space heater so you could try and stay warm, but Mizore held it out of reach.

"Good morning," she said pleasantly. "You've been out for quite some time."

"M-Mizore," you replied, teeth chattering. "P-please, give me that."

In response, she gave you a warm smile. Unfortunately, that warm smile provided you nothing but shivers.

"I can't let you have this yet." Mizore, pushing you back down onto the mattress as you tried to get up to your feet. "I just need you to be quiet and listen to me for now."

"I-I'm going to get frostbite!" You loudly protested, once more hugging yourself and just looking up at this psychopath. Her smile turned to a nasty grimace in an instant, as if an internal mood switch had been hit.

"I'm sorry, did you not hear what I just said?" Mizore asked bluntly. "I told you to be quiet, did I not?"

You quickly nodded and averted your eyes downwards, not wanting to anger this girl who had already showed that she was capable of and willing to commit great violence. A few tense seconds passed before Mizore exhaled deeply and began to orate.

"Listen, (Y/N). You probably don't understand what exactly is happening right now, so allow me to explain it to you. You are now my property, and you will be until we're both pushing up daisies."

You started to say something but you quickly cut yourself off.

"I know that right now, you don't love me." She said, reaching down and gently caressing your cheek. "But you will in time. It's not like I'm going to give you much of a choice on the matter."

You slowly nodded in fearful understanding, not pulling away from her hand.

"You're going to be down here for a long time, my love." She said, causing you to flinch in response to the bluntness and the gravity of her words. "Perhaps I'll let you go upstairs in a few months," she mused. "But only if you behave yourself."

You could do nothing but look down in response, feeling tears form and run down your face, pooling and eventually freezing on the ground beneath you. Finally, Mizore gave you the space heater, though she had a begrudging look upon her face.

"You should try to get used to the cold." She chidded before wheeling about and walking back up the stairs, shutting the door behind her. Soon after, you heard the click of a lock.

As you turned on the heater, you had just one bitterly simple thought.

Who knew that Hell would be so cold?

𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕  •  chapter 7  (Calum Hood AU)

THE FRONT OF the diner was dark, illuminated only by the neon sign of the restaurant and a dimly lit street lamp.  Cars whizzed by on the main road just beyond the parking lot, and I tried to steady my breathing as I focused on their headlights blurring by.

To say I had no idea what was going on would be the understatement of the year.  I didn’t know why Calum was acting so mean, I didn’t know why I suddenly felt uncomfortable around Jeremy, and I definitely did not know why thinking about Calum gave me the same feeling I got when I first talked to Jeremy.

“No, you’re insane,” I mumbled to myself.  What I felt for Calum was nothing like what I felt for Jeremy.  Jeremy was sweet and funny and Calum was rude and cold.  I was probably just jumbled up, and that’s why my stomach twisted into knots whenever those deep brown eyes landed on me.

I leaned my head against the wall of the diner, debating when I should go back inside.  I really didn’t feel like dodging Calum for the rest of the night, and I especially didn’t want Jeremy to catch on to my weird mood.  It’s better I stay out here a little while longer, I decided.  I have to be convincing when I go back, and right now that’s not happening.

Blowing out a sigh, I crossed my arms in the slightly cold air.  All of a sudden I heard the door breeze open, and my head whipped over.

Of course.  Calum was here.

At first he didn’t see me, hands in the pockets of his jacket as he peered out at the road.  But then he glanced to his left, and my breath caught in my throat.

I had little time to prepare before he strode over, by my side in seconds.  He too crossed his arms, and leaned a shoulder against the wall as he looked down at me.  His height was intimidating, bathing me in shadow.

Setting my jaw, I tried my best to appear tough.  “What do you want now, Calum?  Make fun of me some more?”

“I was making fun of your boyfriend, mainly,” he countered, making me purse my lips in anger.  His smug attitude drove me absolutely crazy.

“Why do you have to be such a dick to him?” I demanded, letting go of my inhibitions and cutting to the chase.  I knew arguing with Calum could end badly, either in a screaming match or with me crying.  But I was sick and tired of him, and it was time I figured out what the hell he was doing.

His expression was critical as he took in my question.  “Cause I think he’s a douchebag, that’s why.”  He said this so plainly, like it was supposed to be obvious

Huffing, I folded and unfolded my arms a few times, my nerves buzzing.  “All he does is try to be nice, and you treat him like shit.  I mean, he’s nice to me.”

Calum scoffed, and I knew I was in for it.  “He’s nice to you.  That’s what you like about him?”  My mouth worked unsuccessfully as he caught me in a freezing stare, and any words I thought up to defend myself dried in my throat.  Calum didn’t wait before continuing.  “The guy’s a pretentious ass.  I mean, he’s wearing $200 shoes and $20 jeans, that speaks for itself.  He clearly has money and no plans to make any of his own, and you’re like his little accessory that he can tote around to boost his image.”

I gaped at him in total disbelief.  “What are you talking about?  Jeremy actually cares about me!”  For some reason I couldn’t think of anything else to say in his defense, which frustrated me as I realized Calum thought he was winning.

“Are you actually saying you think he wouldn’t leave right now if some crazy opportunity came his way?  Some new adventure to help him find himself?”  Calum’s words cut like a knife, and I pretended it was because of how cruel he was and not because the words held some truth.

Looking anywhere but his face, I replied shakily, “H-he would take me with him.”  I knew I sounded pathetic without even seeing Calum’s triumphant expression.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, babe.”

Suddenly I lost all fight in me.  Whatever fire was fueling me up until now died away as I felt a lump grow in my throat, tears welling in my eyes.  I angrily blinked away the moisture, refusing to cry in front of Calum.  He didn’t deserve the satisfaction.  

With a weak voice, I asked, “Why do you hate me?  I mean, what did I ever do to you to make you treat me like such shit?”  I hated the way my voice broke, hated how I was so vulnerable in front of someone so cold.

But my words must have struck a chord within Calum, because he actually looked surprised as his usual smug expression fell.  Only for a split second, though; within an instant the walls were back up and he was unreadable.

He regarded me closely for a minute, and he was quiet so long I thought he wasn’t going to answer.  

“I don’t hate you,” he finally responded.  I waited for another explanation, anything else to back up his claim.  But that seemed to be it, and I scowled.  

“Like I would believe you,” I refuted, pushing the hair out of my face and moving off the wall to head back inside.  In a flash Calum grabbed my arm, and I whipped around to demand he let me go but was interrupted by the crash of his lips against my own.

A small gasp escaped my mouth as Calum pressed me against the wall.  Instinctively, my hands went to his neck, as his fingers tangled into my hair.  His lips were warm and soft, and he tasted like maple syrup.  I opened my mouth slightly and felt his tongue swipe against my own, causing a spark of heat to race down my body.  He couldn’t seem to pull me close enough, as our chests were flat against each other and I could practically feel his heartbeat.  

I felt one of his hands slide to my neck, caressing the skin lightly and causing a gentle moan to rise in my throat.  Calum heard the sound and it only made him kiss me harder.  Every nerve ending in my body was on fire as his lips worked against my own, molding and shaping in ways that had my knees weak.  Our tongues wove against one another, battling for a dominance I gladly let him have.  I gripped his hair between my fingers and placed one hand on his chest, feeling the racing pulse underneath. We were completely tangled up with one another, emotionally and physically.  I could stay like this forever, trapped in his embrace with his tantalizing lips capturing mine.

And then the hand I had on his chest suddenly pushed him away, as my subconscious seemed to take over.  My brain was foggy from the kiss, blocking out the warning bells that had been going off.  I was panting, and caught a glimpse of Calum’s swollen lips in the dark lighting.  

I’d only pushed him a few inches away, but it was as if we were worlds apart.  I didn’t give him a second glance before running towards the door, desperate to escape the brown-eyed man as well as the butterflies in my stomach.

- - - - -

I dragged Jeremy out as soon as I got back to the table.  I told the others in a rush that I was just tired and feeling a little sick, which wasn’t a total lie.  No one had caught on that Calum joined me outside, he’d claimed he’d gone to the restroom.  I didn’t see him before Jeremy and I left, for which I was grateful.

Jeremy was quiet in the car, which worried me.  Guilt was absolutely eating away at me, and every time I closed my eyes I saw flashes of my kiss with Calum.  I could still taste him, still smell his musky cologne.  I felt his hands on my face and his lips on my skin, leaving tingles in their wake.

Shutting my eyes forcefully, I attempted to banish the memories for good.  What happened was unexpected, and unfortunately I couldn’t take it back.  I didn’t waste time wondering why Calum kissed me or what it meant; it wasn’t fair to Jeremy for me to be pondering another guy’s feelings.  So I shoved Calum deep into the recesses of my mind and blocked out tonight’s events.  Jeremy was who I was with, and Jeremy was who I wanted to be with.

Feeling like I needed to clear the air, I voiced, “Can I go back to your place?  I like spending the night there.”  He had a huge bed that was softer than any mattress I’d ever laid on, and I liked how it felt sleeping next to someone.

Jeremy’s smile was full of relief, and he rubbed my knee as he nodded.  “Of course, babe.”  I could tell he had something else he wanted to say, as his hand fidgeted on my leg.

I twisted my body in the passenger seat to face him.  “You can say whatever you’re thinking, I want to know.”  I had a sneaking suspicion I knew what was bugging him.

“It’s just,” he started, trailing off with a sigh.  “That Calum guy was kinda being a jerk.”  I pulled my lips into my mouth; he’d said exactly what I thought he would.

“That’s because he is a jerk,” I told him with a shrug.  “We’re not that close, but everyone else is friends with him, so.”  I ignored the fact that we had been closer than ever tonight.

Jeremy pursed his lips thoughtfully.  “Makes you wonder why a guy like that even has friends.”  My eyebrows shot up at his forward comment.  Sure, Calum could be rude, but did he really deserve to be alone?

Yes, Scarlett, he does, the rational side of me argued, the side that wanted to be with Jeremy.

You don’t know what he’s been through to make him like that.  He could have a good reason, a smaller side claimed.  It was true; who was I to judge Calum when I knew nothing about him?  That wouldn’t be fair.

But is he fair in judging you when he also doesn’t know you?  There was that rational side again, always coming out on top.  I sighed and decided that Jeremy was the one I had to agree with, that my boyfriend was more important than some jerk who may or may not have a reason behind his cruelty.

We arrived at Jeremy’s nice apartment complex and rode the elevator up hand in hand.  He lived in a cool, futuristic building that I didn’t even want to imagine the price of.  His living room was bigger than my whole house back home, and the knickknacks on the coffee table alone could probably pay for my college tuition.

But I had never cared about his wealth before.  I didn’t think Jeremy flaunted it the way Calum claimed.  But then I noticed how dirty his kitchen was, the sink full of unwashed dishes.  That’s just what guys do, I rationalized.  My eyes traveled to expensive tailored jacket he’d worn to our first date just lying on his bedroom floor in a hump.  He’s allowed to be messy.  He had authentic movie posters and first edition books all throughout his room, adding to his cool, intellectual appearance.  But then I wondered if he’d ever read any of those books or seen the movies.

My train of thought was interrupted by Jeremy’s lips.  He’d closed the door to his room, leaving us alone in the dark.  At first I smiled into the kiss, always appreciating a spontaneous gesture.  But as he slipped off my jacket, and I unbuckled his belt, I realized how foreign his lips felt.  I’d kissed them nearly every day for a while now, but tonight I didn’t feel the way I used to when we made out.

Frustrated, I ripped off his shirt and tried to find some of that old spark.  He undid the button to my jeans and we fell onto his bed, clad only in our underwear.  His lips trailed down my jaw to my neck, his hands kneading my hips all the while.  I stared straight up at the ceiling when he unclasped my bra, hands motionless by my head as he left a love mark on my collarbone.

Throughout our whole night together, nothing felt right.  Not his kisses or his body or his touch.  I never felt the sweet release that I so craved, as I’d been worked up ever since my interaction with Calum.  As I laid beside him, wide awake while he was fast asleep, I felt a tugging in my heart.  I didn’t know why it hurt to look at his face, why I wanted nothing more than to run far away from this room.  All I knew was that my chest ached for someone that was not in bed beside me.

This ache didn’t subside by the morning, when I hastily left his apartment.  I told him I forgot I had an early shift, and he didn’t stall me as I rushed out the door.  It wasn’t a complete lie; I did have work, just not at the time I told him.  I gave his lips a quick kiss before leaving, earning a smile from him but a frown from me.

As soon as I got back to the house, I raced to my room to be alone.  No one questioned me as I had often spent nights at Jeremy’s before, and they all knew I needed to get ready for my shift.  I spent way too long staring into the mirror, trying to figure out why I thought I looked different.  I hadn’t come up with an answer by the time I had to leave.

“What is up with you today, girl?  You look like you’re about to either cry or kill someone.”  Roger said this with a joking tone, but it just made me sigh.  Work had been crazy, with an afternoon rush like no other.  I had gotten the hang of making drinks but Mack was still seriously understaffed, and Roger and I were drowning.

“Long night, I guess,” I muttered distractedly.  The woman I was making a macchiato for had a scowl like a dragon and a patience thinner than paper.

Roger knitted his eyebrows.  “Trouble in paradise?”  I knew he was referring to Jeremy.  I updated Roger every time we worked together on my boyfriend, as Roger had witnessed our first interaction.  He liked Jeremy, at least I thought, and was always up to hear about him.

“Not exactly,” I answered vaguely, wondering how much I should divulge.  I finished the macchiato and handed it to the woman, earning a scornful look that only worsened my mood.

Roger tapped his fingers on the counter, not satisfied with my explanation.  “You haven’t been going out that long, what problems could you have with him already?”

I put my hands on my hips, taking a breather as the crowd in the cafe lessened for once.  “We don’t have problems.  Or at least, easily identifiable problems.”

“Go on.”

I appreciated Roger’s encouragement.  Maybe it would do me good to talk this through with someone else.  “He’s great, nothing has changed.  And nothing happened, either.  I just...I used to feel something when he kissed me.  Something good.  All of a sudden, it was like a light-bulb burnt out and now...nothing.”

Roger frowned.  “You lost feelings?”

“No!” I quickly stated.  “At least, I don’t think I did.  I want to keep dating him, I just...want to enjoy it like I used to.”  I was making no sense, and frustration bubbled up inside of me.  Since when did my already complex life become even more baffling?

“Look, you’re gonna have bumps in the road.  It’s part of every relationship.  But if you really want to be with this guy, stick it out.  Things will get better soon.”  Roger’s words were comforting, and I gave him a grateful smile as I committed them to heart.

And I tried my hardest to follow his instructions.  I went out of my way to be with Jeremy, partly to improve our situation and partly because I was avoiding Calum.  We went to dinner nearly every night, and I would sleep over his place nearly every night.  He’d drive me to work and pick me up, then we’d spend the day doing whatever.  It was nice, and after a while I thought it was working.

Of course, too much of anything becomes toxic pretty quickly, and I realized this about a week later.  I’d been neglecting my schoolwork for him, and was falling way behind in the courses I was trying to keep up with.  I must have cancelled on him three times just to study, which surely confused him to no end.  Between work at the coffee shop, school, and Jeremy, I was beginning to lose my mind with all of the pressure.

Late nights were spent at the table, slaving over textbooks and drinking far too much coffee to keep me awake.  I was sleep deprived and stressed out, two things no one wants to be around.  Hannah knew to give me space, and Michael, Luke, and Ashton picked this up pretty quickly as well.  Calum didn’t need to give me space, as he’d barely been in the same room with me ever since our kiss.

If I walked into the kitchen, he left.  If we ran into each other outside our rooms, he slammed his door.  His rude comments were less frequent, but when they came they were downright malicious, like he was trying to hurt me.  He stopped attacking Jeremy and switched to me, criticizing everything I did.  If I looked bad after a long shift, he’d tell me.  If my books were crowing the table, he’d shove them to the floor.  It was like living with a human wrecking ball who wanted nothing more than to destroy my life.

I didn’t let myself think about why he was so pissed.  I didn’t want to give Calum any more time out of my day than absolutely necessary.  So I didn’t think about how hurt he must have been when I left him alone that night at the diner.  I didn’t think about how, if he didn’t care about me, he wouldn’t be upset.  I tried my very hardest not to think about him.

One day, I was at my desk in my room desperately trying to make sense of a sociology experiment that had my head spinning.  The words on the page all blurred together until it hurt to read them.  I had to push through, though.  The syllabus my professor gave me in the beginning of the semester said that this was the unit they would be on right now, and I wanted to be caught up if I went back.

When you go back, I reminded myself.  I wouldn’t rest until I was back in school, back where I belonged.  I couldn’t let my studies slip and miss an opportunity to get back on track.

I was so wrapped up in my textbook I didn’t even hear my phone ring until it had gone to voicemail.  “Shit,” I breathed, seeing that I’d missed a call from Jeremy.  I frantically called him back, wondering what he’d needed to talk to me about.

“Hey, babe, you didn’t answer.”  His familiar voice soothed my prickling anxiety.

Rubbing the back of my aching neck, I said, “I know, I’m sorry.  I’m just so focused on this essay.”

“You still down for tonight?”

My face fell at his words.  Tonight.  I had stupidly told him I’d go to his friend’s charity event before I realized how much work I had to do, not to mention my shift tomorrow was excruciatingly early and I needed a good night’s sleep.

“Shit, I’m sorry Jer,” I answered guiltily.  “I didn’t forget, I’m just so busy right now.  I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it after all.”

I could just tell he was mad, even in the silence that followed my response.

“Are you serious, Scarlett?” he said, sounding impatient.  I frowned at his tone; was he seriously going to guilt-trip me about this?  “You told me you’d come, and I already let Harrison know that I was bringing a plus one.  It’ll screw up the table arrangements if a chair is empty.”

I almost laughed out loud at his idiotic reasoning.  “Look, Jeremy, I’m really sorry.  But I can’t push this assignment off any longer, I’ll fall behind.”

“Why don’t you have that same attitude about us?”

My brow furrowed disbelievingly, and I stood up from my desk so I could pace.  “Are you equating my education to our relationship?  You know I have priorities.”

“And I should be one,” he combatted.

“You are!” I said harshly, my voice raised in frustration.  “We’ve seen each other practically every day.”

“Yeah, well then why do I feel like you’re not even there when I’m with you?”  He was yelling now too, which only made my voice get louder.

“I can’t help it when other things are on my mind!  I have a lot of shit going on right now, I thought you understood this!”  My pacing increased speed as I grew more angry and disoriented.

“I have a lot of other shit too, but I make sure to give you the time you deserve!”  

This made me absolutely snap.  “What other shit do you have going on?  You have no job, you’re not at school, all you do is sit around all day or hang out with your precious friends!  I’m working over here, trying to build a life for myself, a future!”

“What about a future for us?  Why aren’t you working on that too?” he butted in.

“I can’t do that all on my own, Jeremy!  We’re supposed to be partners, but I don’t even think we’re living on the same planet anymore!”  It was becoming all too clear that Jeremy and I would never work.  I was all about progress and organization; he wanted relaxation and spontaneity.  Sure, he was charming and I liked talking to him, but I couldn’t remember a single serious conversation we’d ever had.

“Scarlett, I don’t know why you’re saying all this shit.  What did I do wrong?”  He sounded like a little boy throwing a temper tantrum, and I gripped the phone to my ear.

“What’s the name of the charity?” I asked point blank.

Jeremy paused.  “What?”

I closed my eyes.  “What is the name of the charity we were supposed to support tonight?”

His stalling gave me all the answers I needed.  “Uh, I’m not sure, Harrison has all the details--”

“It was for the children, Jeremy!” I screamed into the receiver.  “The starving fucking children!”  And with that, I slammed my thumb down on the end call button and threw my phone onto the bed, seething with anger.

I ripped open the bedroom door, breathing hard and needing to splash some water on my face.  Just as I stepped into the hall I realized Calum was right outside his own room, and had probably heard every bit of the argument just now.

As always, I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.  He was frowning deeply, brows low on his face and eyes dark as he took in my shaky figure.  I felt sick to my stomach as I looked at him.

Letting out a morose scoff, I hissed, “Happy now?”  And then I stalked right by him and slammed the door to the bathroom behind me, turning on the faucet to drown out the sound of my sobs.

Bad Girl

Request: Maybe a scenario with Jungkook in the police outfit from Dope? Where Y/n is punished or whatever.

the uniform says swat instead of police but he looks so hot like this fight me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rated : M

You woke up to your alarm for what seemed like the tenth time this morning, and rolled over, resisting the urge to cry into the pillow. Why was sleep so hard to get?

“Y/n. That’s the third time you’ve ignored your alarm.” Your friend and roommate for the tour, Jungkook said, throwing a pillow at you.

“Fight me.” You bit back, getting up and throwing the pillow back at him.

“I would, but we both know I’d win.” He smiled. “And since you hate me so much, I’ll just go get the coffee I brought you and give it to Yoongi.” He poked his tongue out at you, quickly walking back to the kitchen before you could yell at him some more.

It had only been a month, and you were exhausted. Why you had let Jungkook, drag you onto the Kcon tour was beyond you. You totally forgot how he even managed to get you to come, and why you were dumb enough to agree.

It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if it wasn’t the same thing, same songs, same everything, really. The only variety on this tour was the locations, but it’s not like it mattered, you couldn’t even go sightseeing.

You sighed and made your way to the kitchen, finding that Jungkook had left your coffee on the table, with a note saying they were heading to the venue already, making you feel a little rushed to get ready and be on your way.

It wasn’t that you weren’t supportive of his career choice, or had a problem with touring with the boys, but it did get on your nerves that you couldn’t do anything. At all.

That being said, you sat in the empty venue while all the groups did rehearsals for the billionth time, and decided to text Jungkook while finding out how many positions you could sit in while in the small venue seat.

“What time do you even go on?” - You

“After Vixx.” - Jungkook

“So not ‘till like, forever?” - You

“No. About an hour or two.” - Jungkook

“That’s forever.” - You

“Stop whining, or I won’t buy you anymore coffee.” - Jungkook

You laughed. Did he really sink low enough to bring coffee into this?

“Boring, huh?” Said a familiar voice, but you couldn’t make it out that well, as you were slightly upside down, moving to reposition yourself so you were sat like a normal human being.

“Well, I’m not an idol and have nothing to do while everyone’s busy. So, excuse me for being bor-” You turned but got cut off as you were met with an extremely handsome boy, hair and makeup done, proving he was an idol, but you’ve never seen him before.

“Ah, you probably don’t know who I am.” He laughed. “I’m Kun. Nct U.” He smiled, extending his hand. That’s where his voice was from. Your friend always made you watch Nct v-lives with her whenever you hung out. You were a fan, but you never caught up with who the newest members were due to lack of time.

“Ah, Y/n.” You said, taking his hand to shake it.

“I’ve seen you look bored out of your mind at every venue so far.” He laughed, grabbing the back of his neck. “Thought you could use a friend. Our rehearsal ended already.” He smiled, gesturing to the seat next to you.

You nodded and he took the seat.

“So, what made you come on the tour? Got any friends in a group?”

“Something like that.” You smiled.

“That’s cool. Now you’re friends with someone else.” He smiled.

-

After what seemed like a short time, you were cut off mid-conversation by the last group thanking the staff for all their help.

“Well, I guess you’ll be going then.” You said, getting up.

“Yeah, but could I get your number? You’re really nice to talk to.” He smiled and laughed nervously, taking out his phone.

“Sure.” You said, taking the phone and typing the numbers.

“I'm not sure why my number’s so important though.” You laughed, giving his phone back. “You’ll be seeing me almost every day.”

“Is tha-” Kun started but was cut off by your phone ringing.

You groaned, pulling out your phone and seeing Jungkook’s name splayed across the screen.

“That’s my friend. He’s probably wondering where I am.” You said apologetically. “I’ll text you later though.” You smiled.

“I’ll be waiting.” He smiled back, watching you walk away.

You had answered the phone as you walked away and of course, all you heard was Jungkook yelling about how you forgot to meet them backstage after they got off stage, and how they were waiting at the hotel now, and that he could easily lose you in a different country and blah blah blah. You groaned loudly. You completely forgot about that. You didn’t even remember them going on, to be honest.

You had walked the short distance to the hotel, and made your way up to Namjoon’s room, knocking on the door.

“Don’t you have the key to your room?” Namjoon asked, with a raised brow.

“I left it with you?” You raised a brow back.

“No need to give an attitude.” He grumbled.

“Well, if your friend didn’t ruin my chance with a guy, I’d be just peachy.” You grumbled back, making your way to the counter where you left your room key, and walked back out, going next door and going in, going straight to the couch.

You had about five minutes of peace before Jungkook emerged from the bedroom.

“So now you’re here.” Jungkook glared.

“Can you not?” You pleaded. “I just want to watch my show.”

“Who was that guy from earlier?” He blurted out.

“Why does it matter to you?” You asked. “You’ve never cared about the guys I’ve talked to before.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“One, you missed our set because of him. I saw you not paying attention. Two, I don’t know him.” Jungkook said.

“I just met him today, and I wasn’t paying attention because I see the same thing every time you guys step on stage.” You scoffed.

Jungkook seemed taken aback by your comeback.

“If you didn’t want to co-”

“Oh don’t start with that, Jungkook.” You said sternly, looking at him. “You talked me into coming. Why else would I jump on a tour I have no business being on in the first place.” You said, getting up and walking to the restroom to shower, leaving Jungkook alone on the couch.

-

The next day, you didn’t go with the boys, opting to wait for Kun outside the venue where he said he’d meet you, but when you got there, he was there waiting for you.

He had walked you in and lead you to the VIP section, though you had a pass, he wanted to make sure no one gave you shit.

“Make sure to look out for me.” He winked before walking off.

Once he turned the corner, your phone buzzed in your pocket.

“Since when did you get so close” - Jungkook

You rolled your eyes.

“Since last night. We talked for most of it.” - You

“Well can you not make it so fucking obvious.” - Jungkook

“I’m not even trying, but if you want me to make it obvious, I definitely can.” - You

You didn’t even read his reply, going to Kun’s contact.

“And why should I be looking out for you? (:” - You

His response was quick and you couldn’t help but smirk.

“I may or may not have something to give you. You are right in front of my spot. (;” - Kun

-

The concert had already started, and so far, three groups had already gone, Pentagon, Vixx, and Winner. Nct was up next, and Bts, last. The following day had five other artists.

As the intro to the song started, the members all walked out onto the stage and took their places, and once Kun was in front of you he winked and tugged his jacket sleeves so they were loose, and when the lights shut off for a quick second, you felt something land on you. When the lights were back on, you noticed that it was Kun jacket, and you raised a brow up at him, but he only winked and went on with the performance.

-

After Nct, Bts went on and did their number, but you really didn’t care. You were too caught up in asking Kun about his little stunt.

“The building was getting cold. Thought you could use it.” - Kun

“I know you’re lying.” - You

“So what if I am?” - Kun

“I just want you to keep it. I figured it would be nice to see you in.” - Kun

-

You had walked back to the hotel first, trying to avoid the mass crowd that was bound to happen after the concert finished.

You had set your phone on the charger and grabbed some water from the fridge, looking at Kun’s jacket that laid on the chair, curiously walking towards it, and put it on, surprised that it fit perfectly, and even smelled nice. You snuggled into it and made your way for the couch.

-

You weren’t quite sure how you’d fallen asleep, but you stirred on the couch, as Jungkook barged into the hotel room, still in his concert outfit.

“You really weren’t even gonna watch our performance? Are you that mad at me?” He nearly yelled.

“Can you like, give me a minute to wake up? Fuck.” You said, rubbing your eyes, and stretching.

“Where’d you get that jacket from.” He said lowly.

“What?” Your brows furrowed.

“The jacket, y/n.” He was clearly upset, but your hazy mind could only focus on how you hadn’t seen him in that hot ass police uniform in ages, and he was finally in it again.

“Huh? Oh. It’s Kun’s.” You smiled.

“Why are you wearing it?” He said through gritted teeth.

“I told you I could make it obvious.” You said simply. Fully awake now, and remembering that you were supposed to be mad at him.

He sighed, bowing his head so he could pinch the bridge of his nose.

“You really don’t get it do you?” He scoffed. “You’re really gonna be like this?” He said, stepping towards you, causing you to freeze in place.

“W-What do you mean?” You swallowed.

“Don’t tell me you really don’t know. I know you’re not that stupid.” He said, leaning down once he was in front of you so he was eye level. “You can’t honestly tell me that you had no idea I’ve liked you this long.” He whispered.

You turned your head and moved to get up, but Jungkook was quick to push you back down.

“If you don’t stop moving, I might just have to handcuff you.” His voice was husky. “This outfit has its perks.” He smirked.

You tried to move your gaze away from his, but he was quick to put a stop to it, gripping your jaw.

“Nu-uh.” He shook his head. “Tell me. Tell me if you knew and were fucking with me, or if you really didn’t know.” You could hear the sincerity in his voice, and it made you weak.

“Maybe.” You let out. “You were drunk. I thought it didn’t mean anything.” You blurted out.

He groaned. “Don’t you know that drunk words are sober thoughts?” He sighed. “So you knew. And you still went out there and flirted with whoever that was, right in front of me, and kept it up even when I got all worked up over it?” He cocked his head, and all you could do was nod, feeling too small to produce words.

He tsked. “I think you’ve been a bad girl, y/n. I think you might need to be punished.” He licked his lips, and you nodded, feeling the wetness form in your legs.

“Are you sure?” He said. “I won’t go easy on you.” He looked down at you.

“I’m sure.” You whispered, waiting for him to do something.

“Get up, and go to the bed.” He started, watching you get up, and stopping you. “But first.” He growled. “Take that damn jacket off.”

You did as told, leaving the jacket on the couch and making your way to the bed, trying to ignore the way you could feel Jungkook’s eyes on you, and how his sudden change in attitude was making you extremely turned on.

Once you reached the bed, you were going to sit, but his voice stopped you.

“Strip.” He said, his hand wrapped around his belt, causing his police uniform to lean against his torso.

You swallowed thickly and started peeling off your shirt, trying to look anywhere but back at Jungkook. His stare is too intense for you.

After you stepped out of your panties, you stood there, waiting for him to say something, but all he did was smirk.

“If I had known you were so submissive, I would’ve done this a long time ago.” He bit his lip, looking at you up and down. “Go on, get on the bed.” He nodded, walking towards you.

You sat down, and laid on the bed, watching as Jungkook made his way to you.

“Arms up.” He said with his hand reaching behind him, grabbing something from the belt.

You did as told, and stretched your arms out until they were above your head, and Jungkook pulled out a pair of handcuffs from behind him.

“Told you.” He smirked, placing the metal around your wrists, and clicking them in place. “Now.” He started. “Be a good girl and keep these here.” He said getting up, letting you get a view of how the uniform was slowly becoming untucked, and you wished he’d just take the damn thing off and-

“What are you staring at, baby?” He cocked a brow at you, and you realized you were still staring at his almost exposed hip.

“I. Uh.” You started, but couldn’t find the right words.

“Let me guess, the uniform?” He chuckled, and you could feel your face heat up.

“Well, this is gonna be fun.” He bit his lip as he made his way to the edge of the bed, pulling your legs so you were in front of him. “Remember, don’t move your hands.” He said before sinking to his knees so you could only see his shoulders and up.

He let his hands roam all around your thighs, hips, only avoiding the one spot where you really wanted him, but you didn’t dare open your mouth. He should give in eventually, right?

After a few moments, he pressed light kisses from your knee to the inside of your thigh, and you tried, in vain, to move so you could get him to get on with it, but instead, he bit harshly at your thigh before continuing with his teasing.

When he seemed to be showing no signs of stopping, you broke.

“P-Please.” You whimpered.

“Please what?” He said, looking up at you.

“Do something. Anything.” You pleaded.

“But I am.” He smiled cockily. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

“I’ll do anything you want, I’ll be good, I won’t ever get out of line again, just please.” You whined, your voice coming out broken.

“We’ll work on your begging.” He said simply, before licking a strip up your slit, and flattening his tongue against your clit.

The feeling caught you off guard, and your hands flew to his hair, but he moved away, and glared at you.

“Strike one.” He growled as he waited for you to put your hands back where they were before he touched you again, but the second your hands were back, he spread your legs further apart, and buried his face between your legs, sucking and kissing sloppily at your clit, desperate to lap up all of you.

You, however, were battling with yourself. The pleasure was too much and you knew you wouldn’t last long with the way Jungkook’s tongue worked against you. You whined. How could not moving be so hard? Jungkook chucked against you as if he read your thoughts, and your thighs shook from the sudden vibration being added.

“O-Oh fuck.” You let out as you felt the familiar knot in your stomach form, unsure of how long you could hold it. But Jungkook was already on it, shoving two fingers inside you roughly as he drew harsh figure eights on your clit with his tongue.

You dug your nails into your palms to try to keep your voice down but by the way, your orgasm washed over your, you let out a loud whine as your legs shook around him.

“Strike two.” He smirked as he pulled away, licking your remains from his fingers, chin wet with your juices.

“W-what?” You gasped, still trying to catch your breath.

“Cumming without permission.” He smiled.

“You didn’t stop.” You protested.

“You still should’ve held it.” He shook his head. “Good girls get permission before cumming.” He said, getting on the bed, and kneeling between your legs.

You watched as his hands went to his zipper, but your dismay, that’s all he did.

“Take it off.” You pleaded, but you only got a scoff in response.

“I don’t think you deserve it right now.” He said, pulling his hard cock out through the zipper hole, and ran it up and down your slit. “Piss me off one more time, and you won’t get to cum at all. Understood?” His brow raised.

“Yes.” You nodded your head for emphasis, but he wasn’t pleased.

“Yes, what?” His tone was angry.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” He said as he pushed himself inside of you, and gave you a few seconds before pulling out and going sliding back in.

“Oh, shit.” You threw your head back. “You feel s-so good.”

He didn’t respond, instead, setting a faster pace, and using one hand to hold your hip so he had a better angle.

He leaned down and latched onto your right nipple, sucking and running his tongue over the small bud, causing you to grind your hips.

“Jungkook, fuck please.” You whimpered as he bit at your nipple. “Can I touch you?”

He pulled away and looked down at you, slowing his thrusts down until they were hip rolls. “You can touch me, but you don’t get to cum.”

“Fucking hell Jungko-” You were cut off by a particularly hard thrust and you were about to scream, the coil in your stomach coming back.

“I’m gonna, oh shit.” You sighed as he moved his hand from your hip to rub your clit.

“I-I’m close please.”

”Please what?”

“Fuck, please can I cum?” It came out more rushed than you intended, but you were desperate, and you were pretty sure he knew it too by the way he rubbed harsher circles on your clit and sped up his thrusts.

“Hm, try harder.” He smirked down at you, and if his dick didn’t feel so damn good, you probably would’ve slapped him.

That thought intensified as he pulled out suddenly, leaving you a huffing, pissed off mess.

“What the fuck, Jung-” You were cut off by him roughly flipping you over, and lifting your hips so you could hold yourself with your knees.

“You look so good like this. Face down, ass up.” He groaned, running his hands over the soft flesh of your ass cheek, before slapping it, causing you to bite your lip.

“Fuck.” Was all he said before pushing back inside you, setting the pace he previously started, slapping the same cheek he did before, slipping his hand around your hip to go back to your clit.

“You like getting spanked, baby? You’re wetter if that’s even possible.” He groaned out the last part as he felt you clenching around him. “You like it when I talk to you like this? Like the little slut you are?” His voice husky as he emphasized his words with his thrusts.

You whined. “Please, fuck can I cum? I promise I’ll be a good little slut for you, just please.” You begged, tears starting to form as you were trying to hold on, but he stayed silent. “Daddy, please!” You yelled.

“Go ahead, baby.” He smirked. “Cum all over my cock.”

You let go, legs shaking around his waist, and he came soon after, pulling out, and finally taking off his clothes, leaving his boxers on, and going to the restroom. He came back with a wet towel and cleaned you up.

“So.” He chuckled. “Daddy, huh?”

- asshole 4

idk how you & lynne are able to write so much. tbh y’all are a blessing. i did a random # generator for the things u said prompts so i’m submitting 40 for supercorp!

according to lynne i have sucked up all the inspiration in the apt, which is apparently a finite resource, so i guess i will be the one producing any writing today…….anyway here it goes. things i said when you met my parents. @narraboths said there was only one choice when i was given this prompt. 

One second, Kara is flipping Lena’s omelette over in the pan with careful and steady precision, dancing to the Real Estate song pouring out of Lena’s way-too-big sound system, when the door opens.

It’s been three months of dating, two blissful months of having great sex, one month since Lena had insisted Kara take a key to her large off-campus apartment and told her to go get milk and kale on the way back from her radio journalism class. Kara had got the milk, some cookies, a giant bouquet of shitty grocery store flowers, and forgotten the kale, but Lena had kissed her anyway.

She had met Lena freshman year in their shared Intro to 18th Century Lit class, and they had been through a lot of nonsense to get to here - Kara had dated this shitty dude named Mike, Lena had nearly blown up their friendship group by dating James for three weeks sophomore year. But Kara had felt it this past summer, while Lena fell asleep on the phone because she was in Turkey with her brother and Kara listened. It would be this year that they would figure it out.

They had, and that was awesome. What was not awesome was Kara turning away from the electric stovetop and seeing someone other than Lena in the doorway, while wearing an FBI t-shirt reading Female Body Inspector (gifted from her sister in a fit of drunken Amazon shopping) and boxers covered in tiny little flying cupids. Last night, when Lena had taken them off of her before giving her some inspired head, she had said they were cute.

The woman with brown hair and a Valentino bag did not look like she would share such an opinion. Kara recognizes her immediately, of course. Her first instinct is to punch the woman, because Lena had just finished a phone call with her mother that set her in such a mood that she demanded Kara drive to the dispensary just on the edge of campus and buy some edibles. They had sat in the dark and watched Mighty Morphin Power Rangers and then when that had worn off, Lena had cried and Kara had kissed her face all over.

“I didn’t realize Lena had a roommate,” Lillian Luthor, drawing to her full height. She’s taller than Kara, serene-looking and unperturbed. Kara was very perturbed, because she was wearing boxers and had nothing as smart as that to say back, besides a colorful string of curse words.

The door opens again. Lillian sidesteps the wide arc it makes as Lena barrels in without looking up from her bag.

“Darling, I hope some of that food is for me, because I’m starving, and I think my mother wants to have dinner with me tonight-“

Kara makes a strangled noise. Lena looks up her way and the smile on her face is pretty enough that Kara forgets that her mother is watching and smiles back. But then Lillian makes a soft coughing noise, and a look of deep horror rushes over Lena’s face as she looks over from Kara to the visage of her mother, dark and batlike in the corner of her formerly sunny kitchen.

“Lena, there’s an FBI agent in your home,” Lillian says, deadpan. It would be funny if Kara didn’t feel like dying.

They go to breakfast because in the process of getting dressed and resolving to burn her FBI t-shirt, Lena’s omelette burns and Kara’s assembled collection of breakfast items get sneered at by Lillian. Apparently Rice Krispies is not a meal to be eaten by anyone with a job over the age of eleven.

“You do have a job, I assume,” Lillian says. Kara doesn’t muster a response, just holds tighter to Lena’s hand as Lillian’s driver takes them over to Salt and Pepper. Lena’s jaw clenches.

“You know, mother, when you insisted on having a key to my place, I thought you’d agree that barging in without warning was a healthy boundary,” Lena says.

“I was in town, and you weren’t answering my calls,” Lillian says, breezily. Watching the two of them talk at each other is sort of like watching Winn and his nerd friends play Pong. Kara isn’t sure how or when to interject.

“You want me to go to that awful gala with Jack, I know,” Lena says. Her head drops against the seat of the car, and her neck rolls as the car moves along. Lillian cocks her head.

“I see now why you didn’t like the idea. You might’ve told me. Surely Kara has a dress suitable for the occasion,” Lillian says. The smile on her face does not meet her eyes. Kara is not inclined to smile back. She just grips Lena’s hand and draws patterns across the back of it, trying to bleed some calm into her. It isn’t clear that it works, but when the car rolls to a stop and Lillian insists they sit in the window seat at the restaurant, exactly where Lena hates to sit because the early morning sun is apparently too bright on her, she gives Kara a small smile.

“What all is good here, then?” Lillian asks. Food is something Kara is capable of talking about to almost anyone, so she gives it a shot, letting Lena take a long drink of water.

“I’m a big fan of the eggs benedict,” Kara says. She feels Lena’s hand arrive on her thigh in a soft, reassuring gesture, and it provokes her to give a smile to Lillian. There’s nothing but a frown in return.

“Certainly not very healthy,” Lillian says. “Lena, I certainly hope you haven’t been eating things as fattening as eggs benedict while you’ve been gallivanting with this one.”

“She eats a lot of kale, actually,” Kara says, dropping her hand under the table and holding Lena’s hand. Lena is rubbing her forehead with her spare hand in much the same gesture as she makes when she’s been staring at blueprints for five hours. Kara likes it then, because Lena with her reading glasses and work face on is cute, susceptible to snuggles, and always open to buying them late-night cheese fries at Devil Dawgs. But this Lena is not as fun.

“That would explain the sallow look,” Lillian says.

Kara knows the definition of the word sallow, definitely read it in her SAT prep classes, and it’s not how she would describe Lena. Lena is gorgeous, has been gorgeous since she stood up on the first day of class and said her name was Lena Luthor and that her favorite book was Siddhartha, and Kara had watched her take studious notes for an hour and a half. She was beautiful the day she kissed Kara in the freezing cold rain on the corner outside McDonalds right after Kara had tried to eat three McNuggets at once. She was beautiful when she came and she was beautiful this morning when she had let Kara keep her in bed for five minutes extra so that they could share sleepy, morning breath kisses. Kara is certain she will be beautiful in graduation robes, and wedding dresses, and holding babies, and solving world hunger.

So she can’t help but take offense.

“I’m going to the restroom,” Lena says. She stands abruptly. Kara watches her go with some worry. It’s too early in the morning for Lena to be crying about anything, but it looks all the same like she might be about to when she turns the corner into the restroom.

When she looks back to the table, Lillian is looking at her.

“So, a journalism major,” Lillian says. Kara stares at her. Apparently the spate of silence is too long. “Are you going to speak? Or stare?”

“Yes,” Kara says. Frustration is thrumming through her, an old anger that’s mostly quelled when she’s around Lena, absorbing the atmosphere of Lena. Her therapist used to call it orphan anger, which had seemed sometimes crass, but usually just as descriptions go.

“Which one?” Lillian asks. She smiles, takes a sip of her water. Kara feels her hand as though it were separate of her body reach up to grip the edge of the table.

“Why are you such a jerk to her?” Kara asks. She leans a quarter of the way over the table to make sure that no one overhears her disrespecting what is supposedly an adult.

“I’m sorry?” Lillian asks. She looks intrigued, like Kara has said something surprising and she’s halfway interested in hearing what else she has to say. Or like how people look at puppies barking at mirrors. Like it’s amusing. It makes Kara feel crazy.

“She is so - good, and she tries so hard to impress you when she doesn’t even need to, and you’re such a jerk,” Kara says. “Why?”

She doesn’t mean for it to sound so impassioned and sad, but that’s how it comes out, and it makes Lillian smile very gently.

“I don’t think you know your place,” Lillian says. “Perhaps you should find it.”

“My place is with Lena,” Kara says, and she smacks the edge of the table so hard that the water glasses shiver. “I’m with her. And you know what? She doesn’t need you.”

“I want what’s best for my daughter,” Lillian says.

“So do I,” Kara says. “And that includes you not being a jerk.”

“You may not understand Lena and I’s relationship, but I do care about her,” Lillian says. She leans back in her seat like she’s won something. Kara almost stands up and swings, but instead she chooses to reach into her lap and place her napkin on the table in front of her, standing slowly.

“I’m going to go check on her and make sure she isn’t crying because you’re a jerk,” Kara says. “When I come back, you can either be gone or in a fifty percent better mood, which I’m sure is the best your robot heart can manage, or else I’m going to make my friend James who works here drop hollandaise on your stupid, jerky head.”

Lillian stares at her. James, who’s just arrived at the table to take their drink order, stares at her. She brushes back him with a very dark look that has him scurrying backward.

She finds Lena in the women’s restroom, leaned up against the sinks and staring at the ceiling as though it might collapse down upon her. There’s no hesitation in wrapping her arms around Lena, pressing kisses up the column of her neck until she starts giggling and pushing Kara away.

“I’m sorry I left you out there,” Lena says, reaching up and pressing her long fingers into either side of Kara’s jaw, pulling her down into a quick kiss. It’s something like cool rain after an oppressive heat, kissing Lena right now in this restaurant bathroom after yelling at her mother. The sinks are fancy and the lights are bright and her mother is decidedly not here.

“It’s alright,” Kara says. “I left her out there. I’m sure that’s not in the etiquette books.”

“I read the etiquette books,” Lena says, kissing her again. “It was not in the etiquette books.”

“Is making out in this bathroom in the etiquette books?” Kara asks. Lena kisses her and keeps kissing her, and they super make out for a solid thirty seconds before Lena draws back with a sigh.

“As much as I want to keep breaking the rules of etiquette books, we should probably go out there and suffer through,” Lena says. She keeps pressed close to Kara, and Kara keeps holding onto her. She loves feeling Lena. Loves Lena. She had been meaning to tell her so.

“Your mother sucks,” Kara says. “But just think. When we get married, I can hand deliver the invitation and I’ll dunk it on her the way Winn does with his 64 controller when he wins at Mario Kart.”

“Oh, when we get married?” Lena asks. She’s smiling so pretty that Kara can’t think of the words inside her brain even though she’s real smart sometimes. So she just leans forward and kisses Lena again. “It’s only been three months, Danvers.”

“If you ever think of breaking up with me, just know that whoever you date after me will not dunk your wedding invitation in her face,” Kara says.

“I suppose we can’t break up, then,” Lena says, smiling.

“Probably not,” Kara says.

It takes them five more minutes to get out of the bathroom, and Lena is even smiling when she sits down again, her hand wound up in Kara’s. Lillian is still there, and Kara feels like she needs to mime buckling in. She settles for taking a drink of her mimosa, which James has taken the liberty of delivering for her without even her ordering. She’s glad they’re all still friends.

“I apologize, Lena,” Lillian says. She sounds like someone is holding a gun to her back and she’s swallowed a razor, but Kara grins as wide as she pleases. She does not elaborate, but Lena looks nearly stunned. Kara squeezes her hand. “Tell me about…journalism, Kara.”

Kara does.

Perception, Misconceptions Pt. 2 (m)

Word Count: 6,420

Dinner with Hoseok is always a delightful affair—something that you absolutely look forward to every week. You see him nearly every day, for lunch dates at the cafeteria, coffee trips, and study sessions at the library. But those are all hurried hangouts that the two of you sneak in between classes. Nothing beats having Hoseok's undivided attention at dinner after a long, exhausting week of school.

He's graduating next semester, and is constantly stressed with graduation plans and his job hunt. You're anxious as well, worrying about the status of your relationship. Will he stay in the same town after graduation? Or will he leave for better opportunities? You don't want to hold him back if he does… But would he be willing to wait for you, and keep your relationship long distance until you graduate as well? These thoughts keep you up at night, but you never voice them. You can't bear the idea of him breaking things off just to spare you the pain. Maybe things won't work out. Maybe he'll want to move to a different city and date prettier, more sophisticated girls. But even if it doesn't work out, you'll hang on to any time you have left with him.

And in this subdued, hole-in-the-wall ramen joint that Hoseok found based on word of mouth, you're free to take it all in and enjoy his presence to your heart's content. He looks so adorable rambling about his dance showcase that his excitement is contagious and you find yourself smiling along with him.

When the night finally ends, you're in a wonderful mood. You have this tendency of overthinking and succumbing to your anxious thoughts when alone, but being around Hoseok's positive energy breaks you out of this cycle. For once, you're not thinking about school or the future of your relationship. For once, you can just relax and revel in his mere presence.

But unfortunately, the night has to end. You resist the urge to drag your feet when you finish dinner and Hoseok walks you back to your apartment. Dread settled like a stone in the pit of your stomach and you're so tempted to throw a fit like a child and demand that he never leaves you. But Hoseok's grip is tight around your own as he leads you back home, unaware of how unwilling you are to follow.

Finally, the two of you reach your front door and Hoseok spins you around to face him, "What are your plans for the rest of the evening?" he asks as he affectionately cups your face in his hands.

You fawn over the attention, but the lovely gesture is ruined by the way he begins to squish your cheeks like you're a small child, "Probably just studying," you say, your voice slightly muffled by his hands.

"Don't stay up too late, jagi," he says with a pinch to your cheek.

"Do you want to study with me, sunbae?" you ask, though you already know his answer.

"It's pretty late," he says with a caress of your neck, "And you have to be up early in the morning."

You know better than to invite him to sleep over again, "Okay," you say in a dejected voice, "When will I see you again?"

"How about on Friday? I have an hour break before dance practice. We can grab coffee or something."

"Ah, so short?" you ask, trying your best not to let your disappointment show, but he picks up on it anyways.

"Don't be upset, jagi," he says, cutely cocking his head to the side to try to cheer you up, "We can hang out this weekend! The dance team is having a kickback this weekend. Wanna come?"

"Sure," you say at once, jumping at the opportunity of any time with him, even if you're not alone like you would've hoped. Neither of you are any good at drinking, but it's a good way to meet his friends and understand him better.

Hoseok smiles fondly at you as he continues to pet your hair and face like you're a small child. You feel a bit dejected, and are busy trying to remember if there's any leftover ice cream in the freezer to comfort yourself with, when he suddenly leans in to peck your lips. It's fleeting and lasts only half a second so when you finally process it, he's already gone.

You stare up at him with wide eyes, bitter and upset with yourself for zoning out during that rare, precious display of affection. But surprisingly, his eyes catch onto the pout on your lips, and he swoops down again.

This time it's an actual kiss—a firm press of his lips to yours that has your stomach twisting in the most pleasant, but utterly unsatisfying way. You wish you had the guts to taste him the way he did you just a few nights ago. You wish you weren't such a scared little virgin, so that you could grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him into your bedroom the way the heat in your core screams at you to.

Instead, you can only stare at his lips, hoping against hope that he'll kiss you again. But Hoseok is too much of a gentleman to kiss you a third time and he steps away from you with a smile, "See you on Friday then, ___?"

You hesitantly smile back, "Yes, sunbae."

Hoseok is proud of himself as slowly makes his way back to his car. You'd been wearing that sinfully tight dress all night, and he managed to keep his eyes on your face the entire time… Well, when you were watching, of course. When your attention was gone for even a second, his eyes were firmly on your legs or the swell of your cleavage, hungrily eating you up without a concern.

When you walked away from the table to use the restroom, oblivious to the way your hips swung in that short skirt, it took everything in his power to keep from popping a boner in public. He feels sorry to his dance teacher, Sungdeuk, for using the image of him in a swimsuit that way, but at least it willed away his arousal.

Walking you home is a bit more challenging. Especially when you invite him into your apartment… Your blessedly empty apartment… with your roommate out for the night… and your cozy bed just big enough for two…

When he's feeling particularly masochistic, Hoseok imagines how you would react if he actually made a move. What would you do if he drew out your chaste kisses? Would you moan again like last Saturday night? What if he slipped a hand up your skirt? Or tried to touch that lovely chest of yours? Would you let him if he asked you nicely? Or would you break up with him in a heartbeat and never let him around you again?

Although illogical, Hoseok can't help but fear that it'd be the latter. And he feels so guilty about these nasty thoughts that overcome his mind, though it makes no sense. It's the twenty-first century and most people would encourage these thoughts about a girlfriend of six months as healthy and reasonable. But for some reason, he can't help but feel like a filthy dog. He doesn't deserve you. He never will, and he has no right to be thinking of you in such a way.

So when he kisses you, not once, but twice, he's proud of himself. He'd prefer it if he managed to resist kissing you at all, but it's better than ripping your dress off and tackling you to the ground—an image that had consumed him all evening. This will take some effort. But at least he's not masturbating in the car outside of your house like some kind of pervert… Baby steps.

But then the kickback comes around and everything goes to hell.

"Tell me the truth: is this dress slutty?" you ask your roommate as you model your brand-new purchase.

"Yes," Jiwon instantly says, eyes bulging in surprise as she takes in her appearance, "What the hell's gotten into you?"

You simply beam at your appearance in the mirror and touch up your eyeliner, "Do you think sunbae will like this?"

"I don't know. I still think he's gay," she grumbles in response.

Jiwon is the only person on earth who knows about your relational struggles with Hoseok… Though sometimes you regret telling her in the first place, "Stop it," you shoot her a glare, "You only say that because you think he's pretty."

"No, that's not it. I think he's gay because the two of you have been dating for an entire damn semester and haven't even kissed."

"We've kissed!" you pipe up, indignant.

"Yeah, how many times?"

"Fourteen," you exclaim at once, "Well… Only on nine different occasions, but he kissed me twice the last three times, so…"

"Wait… So the two of you have only kissed nine times over the past twenty-five weeks?!"

You freeze as her words sink in, "…Maybe?"

Jiwon can't help but laugh in surprise, "Oh my god… You're such a prude!"

"No, I'm not!" you protest, "You know I'm not! If sunbae walked in here right now and wanted to have sex, my panties would be across the room. You know how attracted to him I am, Jiwon. I want him so badly," you practically whine.

"Gross," she mildly comments, "I've never heard a girlfriend of a committed relationship talk like this before… If you want him so badly, why don't you just go for it?"

"I can't!" you groan, "What if he thinks I'm an easy slut? I don't want to scare him away!"

"Sweetheart, Jung Hoseok is a grown ass man living in the twenty-first century. Do you really think he would have such backwards, misogynistic thoughts?"

"No," you admit in a small voice, "I know that you're right… But I can't help but feel scared."

"Babe, let's say it turned out that he was disapproving of your sexual desires… Would you want to date such a man?"

"No," you sigh, "I would break up with him."

"Exactly."

"I know, I know. You're right. My thinking is logical at all. These are just deep-rooted insecurities, I know. It's what my therapist would tell me… But I can't help the fact that this is how my brain is wired… Fuck this society I was raised in."

"Girl, the change has to begin with you. You can't keep avoiding the situation and hoping it'll resolve itself."

"Why not?" you childishly demand, "We're making progress, aren't we? I'm sure we'll get there eventually."

"When? On your wedding night?" She snickers, "Come on. You know that your behavior is just reinforcing his hesitance."

"How so?" you ask in curiosity.

"But acting so shy and not voicing your desires, he probably takes it as a sign that you're not ready for anything more. He's just trying to be respectful and keep you comfortable, like a real gentleman… That, or he's gay."

Your face crumples at her words, "What if he actually is gay?!"

"That would make Min Yoongi very happy," Jiwon laughs, "But didn't you say that he's had a few girlfriends in the past?"

"Yeah, and he's admitted that he's not a virgin… Why would he have sex with those girls and not me?" you cry out in despair, "What do they have that I don't?!"

"The balls to go for what they want," Jiwon rudely answers.

You whirl around to glare at her, "Well, I'm going to change that now! Look at this dress! There's no way he wouldn't be into it if he really is straight… right?"

"I don't know, ___. If he really is into women (and it's still hard to tell right now), don't you think you're being too mean? Parading around like that without letting him touch it?"

"He's more than welcome to touch it!" you practically shout as you pull at your own hair, "I would sacrifice myself to the gods for him to touch it!"

"Ooh, kinky," she lightly comments, "Why don't you just ask him then? It might be less painful than a human sacrifice."

"I can't," you groan, "What if he doesn't like it? What if he thinks I'm gross?"

"Then you shouldn't be with a man who finds you unattractive," she says, glancing at her watch in boredom, "God, you straight people are so annoying. Can't you just suck his dick already and call it a day?"

You dramatically fling yourself on your bed with a squeal at the very thought, "I would love that!" You half-scream, "I want to do that so badly! So, so, so badly! All I ever want to do is just—"

The ringing of the doorbell shuts you up. You freeze, mid-exclamation, to stare at Jiwon with wide eyes. "Shit, he's early!"

Your annoying roommate plays dumb, "What is that, ___?" She yells out in a too-loud voice, "You want to do what to Ho—"

You slap a hand over her mouth before she can finish, "Coming, sunbae!" You call out in a sweet voice. Then, shooting your roommate one last death look, you grab your heels and skip out the door.

"Hey, jagi," Hoseok happily greets you when you swing open the door, "Are you— oh…." His voice trails off when he finally takes in your appearance. His eyes scan you from head to toe before widening dramatically, "Oh."

You instantly feel self-conscious under his scrutiny, "Is this too much?"

He hastily shakes his head, "No, not at all. You look beautiful, ___."

He's said these exact words to you a thousand times, but they never fail to make you feel giddy, "Thank you, sunbae. You do too."

He flashes you a crooked smile, "I think that's the first time anyone has said that to me… But I appreciate it, jagi."

You beam stupidly at him, struck dumb by his bright presence.

"Are you ready to go?" he asks, interrupting your silent adoration.

You eagerly nod, "Yes, sunbae!"

The party is still in its early stages when the two of you arrive, and already the apartment is filled with a significant amount of people. They're seniors, like Hoseok, and all majoring in performing arts. Unlike your usual group of subdued painter friends, these people are all vibrant and bold, charismatic in a way that leaves you breathless.

Of course, Hoseok's friends would be just as cool as him. For a moment, you feel like an imposter in your brand-new dress, like a sheep in wolf's clothing.

And then Hoseok leads you into the kitchen for a drink where you nearly run smack-dab into Lisa.

"Whoa," Hoseok grabs onto Lisa's slender arm before she can fall, "Are you okay?"

"Ah, Hobi, you made it!" She exclaims, excitedly throwing her arms around his neck. Surprised by the action, he reflexively hugs her back, dropping your hand in the process.

You let your arm fall back to your side and try not to seethe at the sight of their easy skinship. "Oh, Lisa. It's nice to see you again."

She slowly removes her face from where it's buried in your boyfriend's neck, as though noticing you for the first time, "___, right? How unexpected seeing you here."

You're unsure what she means by this, but you try not to let it get to you, "Why's that?" You ask with a friendly smile. If this girl is Hoseok's dance partner, then you should really try your best playing nice with her.

"Oh I don't know," she drawls, raking her eyes up and down your figure with what you hope isn't disdain, "This just doesn't seem to be your… scene…"

You force yourself to bite back your annoyance and fake a laugh, "It's fun to let loose sometimes," you say, "There's a lot you don't know about me, Lisa."

She smiles tightly back at you, "True… Well, anyways, Hobi, come have a drink with me!"

"Ah, I really shouldn't be drinking so much," he half-heartedly protests, even as he allows her to drag him into the room, "I'm driving."

"You can just leave your car here and sleep over again," she lightly says as she peruses the mass of bottles on the counter.

Again…? That single word has your eyebrows shooting into your hairline. You've been dating Hoseok for over six months, and he has only slept over at your place once, and yet he's done so with a supposedly platonic female friend? What is going on here?

You hate jealousy. It's the ugliest of emotions. But you can't help the unease that wells in your throat. You swallow loudly and follow after them. "What are you drinking, sunbae?"

"Hmm, I'm not sure," Hoseok says as he squints at the murky brown liquid in his glass, "Rum, I think? Maybe a tequila mix of some sort?"

"Can I have one?"

Both Hoseok and Lisa look up in surprise at your question. "Ah, jagi, this is really strong," Hoseok warns you, "But I can make you something better."

"No, it's okay," you say, eyeing Lisa's glass. She's drinking the same concoction, and yet Hoseok isn't babying her. You hate the feeling of sticking out like a sore thumb at the party, "I want this one." You say, pulling his glass from his hand.

The tall redhead begrudging pours your boyfriend a new one, "Well, bottom's up, guys."

"Cheers," Hoseok says, happily clinking his glass against both of yours.

You've had nothing more than a few beers before in your life, let alone such hard liquor. But you refuse to embarrass yourself in front of everyone, and bravely raise the glass to your lips to take a deep drink. The toxicity of the foul liquid hits you at once, like acid pouring down your throat. Your eyes water at once and your first instinct is to spit it back out.

But then you meet the eyes of your boyfriend cautiously watching you over the rim of his own glass. Summoning strength you didn't realize you possessed, you hastily swallow, and ignoring the burn of your throat, you flash him a wide smile, "Oh it's good!"

"Really?" Hoseok warily asks, "It's really strong. I think Lisa must've put two or three shots in here."

"No, it's really good," you say with an award-winning smile, "You should have some more, sunbae."

"Nah, one of us should really stay sober tonight," he says with a playful pinch to your cheek.

You feebly swat his hand away, "We can just call an uber or something," you say, "Come on, sunbae. I really want you to cut loose and have some fun with me tonight."

Something shifts in his dark eyes at your words, "Okay," he concedes.

Surprised by your easy victory, you happily salute him with your glass and take another brave gulp.

An hour later, a group of people have settled down in the living room, playing a drinking game while other the others dance in the other room. You and Hoseok are part of the group in the living room, crammed around the coffee table overflowing with drinks. Somehow, the two of you have managed to secure seats on the couch, and although Hoseok is squished against the armrest, it's better than sitting on the floor like the rest of them.

"Ok, Seokjin—truth or dare?" Hoseok asks with a grin when the bottle lands on the handsome actor boy on the other side of the room.

The dark-haired man's eyes narrow to slits, "Dare," he says, jutting his chin out in pride.

A smirk spreads across your boyfriend's face, "Excellent. I dare you to suck on Taehyung's toes for ten seconds."

"What?!" Seokjin exclaims in disgust, while everyone around the table bursts into laughter, "You can't be serious!"

"Hey, you made me do worse," Hoseok says, clearly still bitter about how the actor made him hump a pillow in front of everyone just a few minutes ago… You personally thought that it was a lovely show, but not apparently not everyone agreed with you. "Or… you can just wuss out and take a shot," he says with a snide grin.

Seokjin shoots him the dirtiest glare he can muster, "Oh, you would just love that, wouldn't you?" he growls under his breath, "Well, fuck that! Taehyung, take off your shoes."

"Ok!" The golden-haired boy chimes in delight, instantly kicking his gucci loafers across the room.

"You better fucking wash your feet," Seokjin snarls as he reaches over to grab the younger boy's foot.

"I showered this morning! … but then I had practice in the afternoon," Taehyung happily informs him.

"Oh god," Seokjin mumbles, "I think I'm gonna puke."

"Stop bitching and put it in your mouth already," Hoseok snickers, phone already out to record everything.

"You are a sick man," Taehyung cheerfully says as he wiggles his toes in front of Seokjin's face.

The dark-haired man takes a deep breath for courage, then leans in to capture Taehyung's toes in his mouth.

"Ewwww!" The entire room bursts out in disgust.

You are equal parts delighted and disturbed by the scene and shriek before playfully burying your face in Hoseok's arm. He chuckles and wraps an arm around your shoulders, "You should've just taken the shot and spared us all."

"No way!" Seokjin exclaims when he finally spits Taehyung's toes out of his mouth, "I'm not weak like you!" And with that, he runs to the bathroom to wipe off his tongue.

"Whoa, what did I miss?" Lisa asks in amusement, drink in hand as Seokjin nearly barrels her over in his haste for the bathroom.

"Nothing of importance," Taehyung giggles as he wiggles his sticky toes in the air.

"Hmm," she says as she surveys the room, "I want to play too. Hobi, will you scoot over?"

You look up to realize that she's now standing by the armrest of the couch, gently attempting to nudge your boyfriend to the side… There's already so little room on this couch, with you crammed between Hoseok and Taehyung. If Lisa sits at the corner seat, she'll practically be on his lap… He would probably have to stagger their sitting positions so that he's sitting directly behind her to allow her room… And that is not acceptable.

Sudden adrenaline combined with your lubricated inhibitions from one too many mixed drinks makes you bold. And before Hoseok can move to the side, you suddenly raise to your feet… then plop down on his lap. All three of you freeze.

"Lisa, you can sit in my seat," you say once you finally catch your voice again. Hoseok is as stiff as a statue underneath you and you're too embarrassed to move.

The gorgeous redhead considers you with narrowed, calculating eyes. Finally, she shrugs, "Nah, I'll just sit on the ground," she says, taking the spot that Seokjin just vacated.

You breathe out in relief. You don't know what's gotten into you. It's not like you to be so possessive, and you feel embarrassed beyond belief. You're just about to self-consciously climb out of Hoseok's lap, when Seokjin comes busting out of the bathroom, freshened up.

"Oh, sweet. You fuckers finally cleared a spot for me," and with that, he plops down right in the middle of the couch, unintentionally squishing you further against Hoseok.

There's a moment of tense silence as you hover on the very edge of Hoseok's knees, flustered and unsure what to do with yourself. Before you can make up a half-assed excuse and make a break for it, Hoseok unexpectedly grabs you around the middle and heaves you onto his lap in a more comfortable position.

"Nice of you to finally make it back," he grumbles at Seokjin, "It's your turn, man."

The two of you have rarely hugged, much less sat together in such an intimate position, and you're so excited that you hardly know what to do with yourself. Hoseok's arms feel so strong around you, his chest so hard and muscular that you feel like you could die of happiness, right then and there. If only the two of you were alone right now…

Seokjin childishly sticks his tongue out at Hoseok before reaching for the bottle, "I hope I get you so that I can make you eat shit."

Hoseok blows a raspberry right back, "Try me, bitch."

Seokjin's eyes narrow to slits. Then he's crouching by the table, eyes flickering between the table and your boyfriend, as though trying to calculate the angle.

"Hey, that's not fair!" Hoseok cries out, "No cheating!"

But it's too late and the film major has already spun the bottle with a precise twist of his hand. It spins around on the crowded coffee table exactly one time before it slows to a stop at Seokjin's immediate left, "Aha!" He crows in delight, "Hobi, truth or dare?"

"Huh? That looks like it's on ___," Taehyung pipes up in confusion, "Whacha talkin' bout?"

Both Hoseok and Seokjin are flustered by his statement, "No way, it's on me."

"Yeah, it's definitely pointed at him. Are you blind?"

The blonde boy scowls at the insult, "No, it's totally pointing at ___." And when the two men jump to argue, he holds up a hand to stop them, "Let's take a vote: everyone, raise your hand if you think it's pointing at ___."

At once, a dozen hands shoot up from all around the table, yours included. Hoseok and Seokjin are the only ones with their arms stubbornly glued to their sides, but even they can't protest this majority vote. "Fine," Seokjin grumbles in disappointment, "___, truth or dare?"

His voice is flat, and he clearly doesn't care about your response, but you're too excited to let it bother you. "Dare!" You exclaim at once, attempting to appear bold to impress your boyfriend and his friends.

"Ugh this is so boring," Seokjin mutters under his breath before catching himself, "Fine," he sighs, "I dunno. Go give Hobi a lap dance or some shit."

Your eyes pop open in surprise. This is clearly not a big deal in the minds of those around the table, judging by the way they barely blink at the dare, but it's uncharted territory for you. The idea of dancing on Hoseok like that is so deliciously scandalous that you feel saliva fill your mouth. You're not much of a dancer, but the thought of being able to touch him so intimately makes you so excited that you nearly bounce out of his lap to begin.

But before you can cheerfully ask for the aux cord to put on a suitable song, Hoseok suddenly reaches around you to grab a shot of vodka off the table and knock it back in one fell swoop. You're sitting so close to him that you can feel the way his chest expands from the movement. Then, the empty glass is spinning on the table as you finally process what just happened.

"Boo, you whimped out," Jin scoffs with distaste.

But Hoseok simply laughs, "I'm not gonna let you perverts stare at my girlfriend like that," he says as he presses a kiss to the top of your head, "You must be dreaming."

"You can't protect her this entire game," a quiet voice pipes up from the table.

All of you look up to find Lisa staring straight at you. But Hoseok simply grins, "Watch me try."

And try, he did.

Less than an hour later, and Hoseok is another four shots down. He's saved you from stripping—multiple times, kissing Jihyo, an innocent dancer who mistakenly joins the game late, and eating Seokjin's toe hair. You're only really grateful for the last one, but can't help but feel bitter that he's prevented you from doing the other dares.

You're a full-grown adult, and you can handle yourself. Besides, if you were truly uncomfortable with any of those dares, you could have opted out by taking the shot yourself. Logically, you realize that Hoseok is just trying to be nice. But you can't help but feel like he's babying you.

Fortunately, the game stalls after a few more rounds, and the group breaks up to engage in more exciting activities. Most of the people, including Seokjin and Taehyung, who had been sharing the couch with you, leave to go dance in the other room, and only a few remain in the living room. They begin some sort of card game that seems way too complex for your alcohol-slowed mind, so naturally, the two of you reject their invitation to join and remain curled up on the couch, content to just cuddle. And after a few minutes, you quickly realize how much better this is than completing any of those risqué dares from earlier, and all your disappointment washes away at once.

The couch is completely empty except for where you and Hoseok sit, curled up on each other in the very corner. And he's drunker than you've ever seen him.

Maybe that's why his inhibitions are so low. Maybe that's why he can't stop trailing open-mouthed kisses up and down your neck. And maybe that's why he hasn't noticed the way his erection digs into your thigh, branding its shape into your tender skin.

You're in heaven right now, as you lean back and push your hair off your neck to allow him better access. This is all you've ever dreamt about and better. Last week, you were losing your mind over a hint of tongue, and this week, Hoseok is devouring you alive, sucking red marks against your sensitive skin and nipping at you like you're a seven-course meal and he hasn't eaten in three days.

For the past six months, you've wondered whether this whole affair was just one big, fat lie. Whether he's been dating you just for convenience's sake, without returning a hint of the attraction you felt for him. The complete lack of physical affection from someone who was supposed to be your boyfriend had really messed with your mind in the last few months. It had was so bad that you had started to believe your roommate's claims that he was gay.

But now, you are utterly certain that Hoseok is not gay, beyond a shadow of doubt. There is no way a gay man would anxiously knead his hands over the curve of your waist, feeling up your body through your tight dress and moaning his satisfaction against the crook of your neck. There is no way he would get hard so quickly just from the taste of your skin. Hoseok is undoubtedly attracted to you. And this belated realization finally erases all your pent-up worries and insecurities.

You feel so elated that you could sing. You've never felt a man's erection before, but there is nothing else that hard length in his pants can be. He clearly wants you, and there is nothing you'd rather do than spin around in your seat and reciprocate his touches. His kisses are so hot against your neck that you salivate at the thought of meeting his mouth with yours and cramming your tongue down his throat. Maybe you'd wrap your legs around his waist and grind back against him. That hardness resting against your thigh is calling your name, and your fingers twitch with the barely repressed desire to touch it… Would he moan at the contact, like he is right now? Or would he… scream?

At that thought, arousal floods your underwear, making you panic. You quickly cross your legs together, terrified that you might drip past the short hem of your skirt, embarrassing yourself in front of everyone. Oh god. Why were you guys still at this party? You're too self-conscious to return his advances in a room full of people like this, and now you might accidentally reveal your humiliating physical reaction to your boyfriend.

"Sunbae!" you anxiously whisper at him, grabbing at his hand when it begins to venture up your legs. If the two of you were alone, you'd gladly let him continue. Hell, you'd be the first to shove his hand under your skirt. But the fact that everyone can see what the two of you are doing doesn't leave your mind. And you don't want him to touch you for the first time in front of an audience.

Hoseok pauses at your interruption and huffs into your hair, "Baby, please."

You pause for a moment. The sound he emits almost sounds like a whine… But your dignified gentleman of a boyfriend would never whine like this… right? More arousal gushes from your core and you wouldn't be surprised if you soaked through your underwear completely. You press your thighs together tighter and nervously pull his hand far away from your source of embarrassment, "Sunbae, maybe we should go home…"

There's a moment of hesitation from him, where you're simultaneously fearful and hopeful that he might plead with you again. But instead, he sighs deeply, "Okay… Let's do that," he agrees, but you can hear the reluctance etched into every syllable.

You resist the urge to smile as you carefully climb out of his lap, "I'll call a cab."

And as a result, neither of you notice Lisa’s angry glare drilling holes on the back of your head as the two of you make your escape.

It's a battle to make your inebriated boyfriend behave in the backseat of the taxi when all he wants to do is mark up your entire neck with hickies. But when you promise to let him kiss you all he wants as soon as the two of you get home, he agrees to keep his hands to himself, but flashes you pitiful glances the entire ride back.

As soon as the taxi stops in front of Hoseok's apartment, he nearly rips your arm out of its socket in his haste dragging you out of the car. And then, there's a momentary struggle against the front door of his apartment as he gives up on unlocking the door to kiss you in the middle of the hallway.

He's never kissed you like this before, and for a moment, you forget all else. Normally, his kisses are methodical and controlled. He only lets his lips dryly brush yours for a moment, before he pulls back. Now, he is completely disinhibited, kissing you with reckless abandon like you've never experienced before.

It's all that you've ever wanted and more. You gladly allow him to have his way with you, parting your lips and molding to his touch like you're made of clay and he's a sculptor. You would have happily made out with him until the end of time, but at that moment Hoseok pulls back for a breath and leans his forehead against yours.

"Oh god," he chuckles, "I'm so fucking drunk right now." And with that, he glues his lips back to yours, unwilling to part for even a second.

You savor the kisses for a moment, so enthralled by his passion that you can't think of anything else. But then, the meaning behind his words slowly sinks under your skin…

He's drunk right now. Really, really drunk. He's not thinking straight. And you're taking advantage of his vulnerable position by touching him the way he would never allow you to if sober. This instantly knocks you back to your senses, and you break from the kiss at once, horrified by your actions.

"___," the dark-haired man whines your name, "Come on."

But you stubbornly twist your head to the side when he tries to kiss you again, "Let's go inside, sunbae," you gently persuade him as you reach into his pocket for the keys. When he's busy kissing your jaw instead, you quickly unlock the door and drag him in.

As soon as you lock the door behind you, Hoseok attempts to kiss you again. This time, you're able to ward him off better, and duck under his arm before running for his room, "Sunbae, you should sleep now."

But he childishly stomps his feet in protest, "I don't wanna!" he slurs, clearly still suffering from the after effects of the potent alcohol, "I wanna make out more! Come on, jagi… Please?"

Your heart stammers at his words, and you're sorely tempted to concede, love blossoming in your chest from his cute display of aegyo. But guilt overwhelms all else as you remember how sober you are in comparison to him, and you firmly shake your head, "No, sunbae. Let's get you in bed."

"B-bed?" he stutters in surprise. This piques his interest and he tears past you towards the bedroom, nearly plowing you over, "Yeah! Let's go!"

You can't help but laugh in surprise as he throws himself on the bed and presses himself up against the headboards to watch you with eager eyes, "Come here, ___," he says, holding out his arms for you, "Whatcha waiting for?"

He's so adorable that you're sorely tempted. You've never seen this side to your boyfriend before, and there's nothing you'd rather do than take him up on his offer and play with him longer. Instead, you grab the blankets and tuck him in with a sigh, "In the morning," you promise him.

"No," he whines, trying to break free from the prison of blankets that binds his limbs to the bed, "___, come onnn."

You have a very limited window of escape, so you quickly snatch up your purse and beeline for the front door before he can escape from his blanket restraints and change your mind, "Sorry, sunbae, see you tomorrow!" you call out as you sprint for the door.

You can hear his muffled shouts of protest, but by then, you've already made your way out the front door and down the hallway. It's not until you've exited his building, waiting on the curb for your cab to pick you up, that you can finally breathe a sigh in relief. And then you promptly burst into laughter.

What a strange, but delightful turn of events! After six whole months of dating, you've finally discovered that Jung Hoseok wants you. He actually wants you! And you're sure as hell going to use that to your advantage.

A small smirk spreads across your lips as you crawl into the backseat of the cab. There are a million and one possibilities flashing through your mind. But where to start…?

Sorry this took so long, but please don’t ask about updates :) 

Endless Chapter 6

Warnings: none

Authors note: holy shit ya girl updated, yes its currently 2 in the morning and I have work tmo but do I give a damn? No Anyway I really hope you guys enjoy thank y’all so so so much for being as patient as you are I can’t tell you hoe much I appreciate it, anyway lemme shut up, it’s been a while since I've done this and I forgot if people actually wanted to be tagged in it anyway hmu if you do ilysm feedback is always appreciated -Admin A 

It was one of those mornings where you wake up a minute before your alarm goes off and sleep is pulled from you forever.

Okay I'm being dramatic but who can blame me, it's so early the sky was still dark, not even the birds were up yet. Thankfully, due to being a human punching bag the last few weeks the sharp pain shooting up my feet from the freezing floor did nothing more than wake me up. I felt like a zombie as I shuffled my way towards the expansive kitchen of the base, I could still easily get lost in the place, thankfully I knew exactly where the essential spots were, like the kitchen, the training room for our daily sessions, the little rooms I could hide in to avoid said sessions, all in all I had a system.

I sat on the countertop staring blankly at the fridge, my brain still in the process of waking itself up. I took the rare moment of silence to break down all that had lead me to this moment.

I remember telling Jon, at his request, everything that went down with Nightwing in detail. He went to my house that day, after school we decided it was high time to come clean with each other about our powers.

The sun had made another rare appearance but did nothing about the bitter winter air nipping at any exposed skin, we walked fast, I wanted to get out of our uncomfortable uniforms and into my Superman PJs my mother gifted me ironically after I told her about my childish crush, if you say Superman isn't even the least bit attractive you're straight lying to yourself.

When we finally got in I wasn't surprised to see my the apartment was empty, minus cheezers our pesky cat who sprawled himself out on Jon's lap as soon as he sat down.

"Want anything to drink?" I yelled over my shoulder from the kitchen, I rummaged through our refrigerator waiting for his response. "No thank you!" He chimed in from my couch, his voice was always light, I’d noticed, it carried through the air like a breeze. 

I came back in the room with a can of coke for myself tucked under my arm and two half eaten bags of chips squished in my hands, I plopped in the recliner adjacent to him, not before ungracefully tossing the junk food in his lap of course, and sat back with a sigh.

He stared at me with those ridiculously pretty eyes, a nervous expression on his face as he waited for me to speak, his fingers were running through cheezers fur absentmindedly. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to?" I offered after taking in his expression.

"No no!- I want to tell you I do, I'm just not sure how you'll take it." I shook my head at the taller boy, popping a chip in my mouth. "You don't gotta trip chocolate chip- I don't think there’s anything you could say that would change how I see you, powers or not your still my Ramen buddy." I finished with a wink. His nervous smile broke into a real one. He cleared his throat, opened his mouth, then closed it.

He did this a few more times before I stopped him.

"How bout' I go first?" He nodded releasing a breath.

"Well, it started when I was younger, I can't pinpoint exactly where I got them, I just realized after a while the string of luck I had wasn't just luck, it was something else entirely, something watching my back at every turn."

 He nodded along, an unusually serious expression gracing his soft features."For awhile it was just that, a helping hand that lead me out of sticky situations," I shook my head taking a long drink of my soda. "Up until that night on the roof that is."  He nodded once more, his fingers rhythmically tapping along his knee.

"What do you think triggered it?" He asked sounding more stern than I'd ever heard, I eyed him before shrugging off his strange behavior. "I'm not sure really, I think its because I was scared, I mean any other time the light has come out hasn't been in a situation where I felt that unsafe." I laughed thinking of the boy wonders face as he flew across the roof. "And then at the bank well, you were there." He leaned back against my couch, cheezers lifted his head to stare at the boy in displeasure before laying back down. 

"You're mom isn't a meta?"

"Not that I know of- as long as we're not counting her inexplicable ability to know when you're lying, although that may just be a 'her' thing." He shot me a smile, but a second later his face returned to it's neutral state, his head turned slightly as if he heard something he didn't like. "So it must come from your father- I think." He offered, I gave him a half smile, my nails tapping against the smooth metal of the now nearly empty can.

"I wouldn't know." His baby blues widened. "(Y/n) I'm Sorry-I didn't know.."

"Oh it's okay! He peaced out before I could really know him, so I got lucky." His face remained uncomfortable, as if he was guilty for asking, so I reassured him. "Really I've made my peace with it, after all, can't really miss someone who was never there." Jon nodded before abruptly standing.

"I uh, I need to go to the restroom!" He said, I cocked a brow at my friend's outburst before motioning in the direction of the bathroom, I chocked it up to him simply being nervous about telling me, I walked over to the recently disturbed cat and placed him in my lap. His big brown eyes stared back at me as I scratched behind his ears. "Is it me or is that farm boy acting all kinds of weird?" The animal simply blinked before resting his little head on my arm. "Yeah, that's what I thought you'd say."

Jon's POV 

I practically ran to the bathroom, turning on the water to try and hide all the noise I could. I quickly yanked out the expensive and inconspicuous flag ‘pin’ Damain had given me, I brought the tiny microphone to my mouth knowing he could hear me. "Was that good enough?" I couldn't hide my irritation with the young Wayne, he had me spying on my best friend, her personal story she trusted me enough to share was just information for the kid to put in his computer, it made my chest sink, I felt like garbage.

"Yes, although I wouldn't be surprised if she caught on, your acting skills are awful." I could hear the smirk in his voice, the earpiece he'd given me to hear the questions he wanted to ask felt even more uncomfortable than before. "Excuse me if I'm not good at lying!"

"You aren't lying to anyone, I simply was apart of the conversation, besides, you're one step closer to being ready for the team."

I felt stared at my reflection conflicted.

I knew what I did wasn't necessarily lying but it still felt wrong, like I'd used her trust for something bad. On the other hand this opportunity- this team they were building, it was my chance to finally step outside the huge S shaped shadow my father cast- I could become a hero all of my own.

Yes, I was conflicted, and Damian's smug voice in my ear wasn't helping anything.

"-kent? Are you even listening to me?" He spoke, voice rising in impatience. "Honestly no, now do you have what you need?" There was a moment of silence on Damian's end, the sound of tapping on a keyboard could faintly be heard before he finally responded.

"Yes but-" 

"Good." I yanked the earpiece out of my head and crushed it, along with the microphone, between my fingers. I have no doubt in my mind I'd just destroyed a thousand dollars worth of equipment but that was the least of my worries, the guilt was still there, but it seemed to wash down the drain with the remains of the machine. With a deep breath I made my way back out in the living room, (Y/n) sat there, doing absolutely nothing but still looking like someone from a movie, her head snapped up as she noticed my presence. "You okay there Jonny boy?" I smiled at her nickname, taking my previous spot on the couch now much more relaxed. "Yep! Just needed a moment but now I'm ready." Her pretty brown eyes stared at me unsure. "You don't have to tell me if you're uncomfortable, I understand-"

"No! I'm okay really! I promise." Finally that smile returned to her face as she nodded, gesturing me to continue when I was ready."I'm Kryptonian! Well half Kryptonian anyway!"

(Y/n)'s POV

I stared at the bright grin etched into his face, an uneasy smile on mine as his words bounced around my skull.

Because if he was Kryptonian that meant-

Wait-

"Your dad is- you oh, oh okay that's um oh man am I allowed to know this? Is this legal? Oh, oh man, oh jeez." He suddenly rose from his seat and made his way over to me, a wide smile on his face. "Relax, (y/n), trust me okay? Everything's alright." I laughed rubbing my temples in the process. "Okay okay, so um, wow this is-" the blood drained from my face as I realized our previous conversations- the late night, sugar high induced conversations where I openly gushed over how fine Metropolis's space savior was.

"You let me sit there and talk about how hot your dad is?! To your face?! Jonathan Samuel Kent we are fighting- not really cuz’ you'd probably mop the floor with me but yes! Definitely fighting!" 

We spent that afternoon talking about everything, good and bad. He told me he was scared he'd never fill the shoes of his father, I told him I was afraid I'd never understand what I could do, it wasn't until later that evening when my mom came home from work did we realize how long we'd been talking, she offered him a ride home but he just smiled and politely declined.

I was brought back to reality by the helpful AI program we knew as Athena spoke to me, her automated voice calmly called out from one of the many speakers littered around the base. "Miss (Y/n), the time is approximately 5:34 AM, would you like me to initiate your 'get ready playlist?" I looked around the empty room, still not used to having to talk to someone without a body. "Uh no thanks Athena, I don't wanna wake anyone else up." I spoke in a whisper afraid to disturb my teammates sleep. "Robin is currently in the gym, would you like me to alert him of your presence?" 

"Oh absolutely not, no thanks A."

"Okay miss (Y/n), if you need anything don't hesitate to call me." I gave her a friendly wave off as I made my way towards my room, unsatisfied with what I found in the refrigerator.

It still felt pretty unfamiliar living somewhere without my mom, not waking up with her music blasting throughout the walls was a very foreign concept to me. Few weeks back, when Nightwing first came to my house to lay out the ground rules of what exactly was gonna go down, my mother was less than thrilled.

"So you want my daughter to move into some secret location? Not only that, but live with a bunch of other teenagers with incredible abilities and just you to supervise them?" Dick shot her a smile bright enough to blind someone if they looked directly at it.

"Misses (L/n), I get why you'd be concerned I really do, but this is all for the benefit of these kids, besides she almost an adult." He paused at the glare my mother gave him. "-but, but, yes, I would be there to supervise the team, not just me though, other hero's will come in to help train them." My mother was silent as she processed his words, she glanced at my face, taking in my hopeful expression before sighing.

"...If I say yes, I get to know where this facility is right? Just in case I need to go down there and whip some sense into somebody."

"Absolutely! And if it makes you feel better Jon's gonna be there with her." At this my mother visibly relaxed, I knew she trusted Jon so before this impromptu meeting I made sure to let Dick know about it, just in case she needed some extra convincing. "Well, I guess I can't say no, especially with her giving me those damn puppy eyes."

This time I brought myself back to reality, when I came to just in time to realize my feet had taken me somewhere that wasn't my room, to the training gym. I paused wondering why on Earth I walked there only to be met with quite the sight.

Robin, beating a training dummy like it personally hurt him, I still had yet to find out his identity, no one had actually, so no it wasn't a surprise to see his iconic mask adorning his face. He thought it was best if everyone remained anonymous, something about secret identities - but full disclosure at the time, I wasn't paying attention, I was too busy trying not to stare at the green kid a few feet away from me, i shit you not he was green, like head to toe green- that and I couldn't agree, mainly because I didn't even have a super persona yet, so when it was brought up I laughed and told the other members my name. "If you were smart you'd keep some form of anonymity, at least until we can trust each other." Robin scolded, The other four people in the room stayed silent, and I couldn't help but scoff. "You expect us to trust you when you're gonna have that mask on 24/7?" His glare turned to me, I tried not to flinch. "If you want to expose yourself fine, but I refuse to be apart of it." And with that he walked off leaving the rest of us in an awkward silence.

"Well, he's just a bundle of joy now isn't he?" I said watching his retreating figure, Jesus the kid even walked like he was pissed off.

"Real life of the party." The tall boy to my right spoke, he left quite the impression too, being that he looked like a blue iron Man, ya know suit of badass armor kinda guy. He was introduced as the blue beetle. I looked at him with a smile, relieved the rest of the team wasn't as stuck up as the bird boy.

"I can't imagine you'd wanna wear that the entire time either." 

This earned a laugh from beetle, and much to my surprise, instead of taking off a helmet it seemed to disappear, a light flash of blue with it as his face was reviled. "I'm Jaime Reyes, nice to meet you." I grabbed his hand with a wide smile. "(Y/n) (L/n), I'm sure you hear this all the time- but holy shit that's cool." He laughed again, this time the sound was clear, no longer blocked by, well whatever was on his face moments ago. It was nice, the kinda laugh that made you want to join in.

"If we're really saying fuck it to Grumpy's rules I'm Garfield Logan." The green boy spoke from behind me. I shot him a smile, he returned a smirk, his sharp canines peaking though the half smile. The only other girl in the room remained silent, weighing her options before she quietly spoke up."Rachel." Was all she spoke. I gave her my friendliest smile before walking over. "It's nice to meet you, I'm so glad there's another girl here." She met my eyes, a hesitant smile on her face as she agreed. "It is...nice, thanks for thinking so." Her voice was level as she spoke, I almost couldn't hear her over the two loud boys now chattering like they were best friends. 

I turned away from the shy girl to look for my friend. Noticing his unsure stare I walked over to him, away from everyone else.

"Yo, you okay over there farm boy?" Jon looked up from the floor, his eyes uncharacteristically troubled. "I'm fine!- just a bit, I don't know nervous? All of you guys are so great I mean, I guess I'm just scared I won't be able to keep up." I stared at the large 'S' on his chest, looking for the right thing to say.

"Umm?? Have you met yourself, are we talking about the same Jon Kent? We'll have to be worried about keeping up with you if anything." He gave me a bashful smile, looking down at the symbol on his chest then back to me.

"Don't give up before you've even started you dork." I said patting his shoulder and motioning for him to join the conversation, which he happily did after a small nudge.

That was weeks ago, Robin still, with his stubborn ass, kept that mask on. I wish I could say things were okay between me and the stern boy but they weren't, I get the feeling he wasn't too pleased to be here.

Whenever we would train, Dick was there to supervise, and since Robin was the most experienced out of all of us, he was in charge for most of the training- scratch that, it's more like the royal ass kicking he dished out.

I got the feeling he didn't like me very much, mainly because of the whole, almost throwing him off a roof thing, but the feeling was mutual. He just, he rubbed me the wrong way, like he genuinely believed he was above everyone else and no one could match him in anything. Not to mention the way he had to comment whenever I'd fail.

"You're stance is terrible, you're just asking to die."

"Do you enjoy your face meeting the mat (L/n)? Because you seem to do that every time we're in here."

He was just one of those people you had to try not to throw out of the nearest window whenever he opened his mouth.

"If this is your attempt at stealth you're fired."

I rolled my eyes dispite him facing the other way and walked into the gym room. "If I wanted to sneak up on you I could, don't get it twisted boy wonder." I knew I was bullshitting, he knew I was, but there was no way I was backing down from a fight with this asshole. He turned, wiping some sweat from his brow with a small towel, I could feel the squint get gave me through the rubber mask. "Why are you here?" I shrugged making my way to the closest bench and taking a loud seat. "For your information- I wanted to get an early start with my training." "Really?" He questioned leaning against the silicone dummy.

"Yes."

"In that?"

 I looked down to my PJs and gave him a shrug. "I could be in a fursuit and I'd still kick your ass." His face scrunched up in confusion before he scoffed."I have no idea what that is but don’t make me laugh, you'd be lucky to get me on the ground for a second." He turned back towards the dummy before sending a swift kick to it's neck, I flinched from the loud smack that echoed across the walls. 

Confidently, he spoke again, without even turning back.

"You got lucky once- never again."

The way he said that would have sent shivers down my back, had I not been raised a bad bitch, but alas, I was. 

I quickly stood marching over to the male. "Okay let's go-" 

My back hit the mat, the air from my lungs escaping with the force I was smacked against the floor. His smug face leaned over me. "What was that you were saying? I don't think I heard you (L/n)." I groaned before throwing myself up, glaring at the figure before me. "That was just the practice round-" his hand shot forward to, I assume toss me like a rag-doll again, but this time I was ready, I grabbed his wrist, stopping it mid swing and a force of golden light pushed us apart. He smirked from across the mat. "Without your powers you're as defenseless as a baby- you need to learn not to rely on them." I bit back my retort about his hairline being as defenseless as a baby because 1. It didn't make sense- I was just mad and 2. The son of a bitch had a point.

So I sucked up my pride and rolled my shoulders, cracking my neck with a satisfying 'pop'.

I gestured him to come forward with my hand.

"Then teach me."

The Right One Pt. 5

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

It was just passed midnight when Yoonho pulled up to the building that he'd followed Jackson to earlier. You'd texted him as soon as Jackson left the house to find out where he lived so you could go right after dinner. Jackson had texted you to let you know he'd gotten home okay and said he was just going to go to sleep early, but what was stirring inside of you couldn't wait until morning.

Rain was showering over you as you stared up at the building he lived in, if you could call it anything more than a hazard. Cringing at the judgmental thought you remembered how you used to be. The woman your father thought you were, and thought about all the terrible things you might have said about the place or about Jackson knowing that he stayed there. Then you thought about how all that mattered right now was finding out which apartment was his and being in it with him as soon as possible.

The front door of the building was a rusted old thing that was held open with a brick, so getting inside wasn't a hassle. You knocked on every door you saw and the only one that opened was by an angry ahjussi that pointed fiercely to the stairs and told you to keep walking until you saw the blue door. It wasn't so bad, only about five creaky flights of stairs until you reached the only door that wasn't a dirty, stained cream. You tapped your foot anxiously as you waited for him to open the door.

“Hey, beautiful.” Jackson squinted into the light of the hall, “It’s late what are you doing here?”

“I love you.” You confessed without hesitation.

“You're shaking. Come inside.” He said opening the door wider to let you in.

“Did you hear me?” You asked as the door clicked closed behind you and a dim lamp light turned on.

“Of course, what's going on?” He asked sleepily.  

“No, listen.” You said shakily as he gently ran his warm, rough hands over your own soft, freezing skin. “I love you. I've never loved anyone like this before. I've never told someone I loved them and meant it. I love you so much. I love your giant heart, and your beautiful smile, and your stupidly loud laugh. I love that you make me feel like I'm enough, but also like I want to be better for you. I wanted you to know. I know tonight sucked and I don't know what you're thinking. So I had to tell you, even though it's late and you're tired. I just had to let you know how I felt before it was too late. Please don't leave me.”

“I love you too.” He said with a smug grin. He leaned against the back of the couch and looked you over. “I actually have loved you for a couple weeks now, so I win.”

“Oh...you do?” You grinned stepping between his legs. “Is that how it works?”

“Yep. It means I love you more, I will have always loved you longer than you have me.” He said trailing his fingers over your hips, “I get to hold that over you forever.”

“Forever? I could handle that.” leaning into his bare chest you placed a kiss to his lips.

He moved his hands up the skirt of your dress to and dragged the soaked material up to your hips. The motion pulled you forward where you could feel the grind of his hardening erection beneath his gray sweatpants.

“Is this what you've been waiting for?” You asked quietly, “For me to realize I love you.”

“Who said we were going to do anything?” He said before tugging on your lip with his teeth. “I would just hate for you to stay in this wet dress and catch a cold.”

You gasped slightly, as he pulled the dress all the way over you and the breeze in the apartment brushed against your skin. “Will you warm me up?”

He nodded and ran his hands from your hips up your back to unclasp your bra. You watched his face as he pulled the straps from your shoulders. His eyes stayed locked with yours even though you were standing more or less completely naked in front of him. He moved his hands to your face, brushing away the wet locks that stuck to your cheeks and he cupped your head in his hands

“What do you want?” He asked pressing his forehead against yours.

Your heart was pounding in your chest at speeds nearing a humming bird. “You.”

He leaned forward just enough to suck your lip between his. You moaned and he dropped his hands to your ass before pulling you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. He walked just a handful of feet before placing you on a mattress. Jackson’s arms were on either side of you, holding him just above you. Grabbing his neck you pulled him back into the kiss, his blonde hair teasing your fingertips.

“Your hair is getting long.” You whispered into his lips.

“Hair does that.” 

As the kiss continued and his tongue masterfully massaged your own, you dropped your hands down and wiggled your panties down your thighs.

“May I?” You asked running your finger under the elastic of his pants.

He nodded again and watched your face as you reached inside the soft fabric. Jackson was velvety soft and thick in your fist. With your hand gliding slowly over him he finally started to break. The muscles in his neck and arms starting to tremble. He closed his eyes while you stroked him. His breathing grew erratic and you could feel your hand grow sticky.

“Jackson…” you whispered, almost not wanting to disturb how content and pleased his face looked.

He jolted, eyes wide, “Huh? Sorry. Should we?”

Grinning with pride at his reaction to you, you nodded. Jackson pushed himself up and dragged his sweats down his legs. He pulled a small packet from beside the mattress and tore it open with his teeth. Biting your lip you anxiously watched as he pulled the condom on and positioned himself. You couldn't help but lift your hips just slightly.

“Always so impatient…” he teased, before lowering himself inside of you. The stretch was more than you could have imagined on your own. Your toes curled against his calves, your thighs tightened around his hips.

You had never “made love” before so you weren't sure what it was supposed to feel like but if it was going to feel like anything this was it. It was all the pleasures of sex with an added level of intimacy that made your whole body warm. For some time you thought there was music playing somewhere in the room but you realized that it was just the rain outside. They way he looked you in the eyes and the way he took care of every inch of you made you want to cry. You were sure that no one had ever loved you the way he did.

“Oh, Jackson,” you whimpered. Your arms wrapped around him and you pulled him down so you were buried beneath him, tucked into his warmth. You didn’t want him to see you get emotional.

“Is this good?” He asked thinking that your plea was purely animalistic, as his heavy breaths drifted over your neck. One of his arms framed your head and he dropped the other one between your thighs, “How's this?”

“Oh fuck.” You gasped as you inched closer to your unraveling.

“Tell me if you like it…” he whispered against your ear, a shiver ran down your body.

“I love it. It feels so good, Jackson.”

You could actually feel, against your neck, the smile spread across his lips. “As much as you love me?”

Turning your face so that you could look at him properly you grinned, “Maybe even more.”

Jackson raised his eyebrow at you, a challenge, and then threw himself into the motion of his hips. He was fast and then slow, each heavy thrust inside of you was as meticulous as each slow drag out. You threw your head back, your hands squeezing his divine butt as the muscles flexed beneath your palms.

“Yes, oh my god. Yes, yes Jackson, oh like that. Please.”

You're eyes grew wide as you realized it was actually happening. You had never reached an orgasm during sex, you’d never really been with a guy that put in the effort, but it was happening. Every part of your body tightened and then released. Even your arms dropped to the side as Jackson finished, you watched his glistening face, mesmerized. When he was finished he rolled over beside you on the mattress and found your hand beneath the sheet. His fingers gently tangled into yours.

“I love you.” You said breathlessly, staring at the ceiling.

He chuckled beside you, “I know.”

“I've never been fucked like that.”

“That wasn't fucking.” He said casually leaning towards you and placing a kiss on your shoulder. “Don't worry. I just need a minute to uh, gather myself, and then I'm really going to fuck you.”

You turned your face towards his, eyes widened, “What?”

He grinned mischievously, “You didn't think I was done with you, did you? I've waited five weeks for you.”

When you woke up the sun was out and you could hear the sounds of a busy street outside the window. With a stretch you realized that you weren't in your own bed, that you were in Jackson's bed and he was sleeping beautifully, peacefully, and nakedly beside you.

You wanted to explore his body more. His surprisingly vicious hips. Those strong thighs. His arms that could, as you learned, hold you up and pin you down. Your lips craved the warm feeling of his skin. Your fingers tingled at the idea of spreading out across the expansion of his broad shoulders and trailing down his biceps. While you wanted all of those things you also wanted, madly, to explore his apartment, to know him even better.

Rolling off the mattress you grabbed a shirt that was hanging over his desk chair, the one he’d worn to dinner, and threw it on. It was a tiny studio apartment, you could see the entire place from where you were standing next to the mattress. Every inch of the tiny space excited you though, because all of it contained a piece of him. The bathroom wasn't thrilling, but you started there because you had to pee. A toilet, a sink, and a the shower space. There wasn't even a mirror, which surprised you because Jackson always looked amazing, you found it hard to believe anyone could look that handsome without checking a mirror.

The kitchen, that was about the same size as the restroom, was next to it. It offered a stove and oven, a sink, and limited counter space. There was a well loved coffee machine on the counter so you started a pot and continued on with your tour.

In the center of the room was a couch and coffee table, no television. Underneath a messy pile of paperwork on the table there was a MacBook. Near the bed was his dresser, the drawers were almost all open with a collection of cotton shirts hanging from them and the occasional denim leg from his jeans. There was also a pile of clothes stacked next to his dresser. The top of the dresser was probably the cleanest space in the whole place. There were a collection of pictures frames along the top. They were all pictures of Jackson and who you assumed were his parents. One from what looked like a recent Christmas and several when he was a little boy.

You could have squealed with joy at the sight of him as a smiling toddler. Or as a sun soaked teen on a fishing boat with his dad. It took a lot not to snag one or two for yourself. Instead you went back to the kitchen and made up two mugs of coffee, well, one mug and one bowl because it seemed, as a true bachelor he only had a set of dishes for one.

Plopping back down on the mattress next to him you pressed your lips against his cheek. Instantly a smile spread across his lips. “Did you have fun exploring?” He asked, eyes still closed.

“I did. You're very messy, Wang.” You responded tucking yourself back into him.

“I'm sorry it's not much.” His lips pressed into the crown of head. “I spent way more time exploring your place while you were on your morning runs.”

“This is perfect.” You argued.

He laughed at that, throwing his arm around you and pulling you closer. “Perfect is a little over exaggerated.”

You didn't say anything. You just buried your face in his chest and hummed.

“Hey!” He whined, “You can't go back to sleep, we have plans.”

“We do?” You asked pulling away in surprise, “When did we make plans?”

“I made them. Last night, after I left your parents.”

“And you just assumed that I wouldn't be busy or would drop everything to follow your last minute plans?”

“Was I wrong?” He grinned.

“What are our plans?” You asked ignoring his smile that screamed with smugness.

“It's a surprise.”

Rolling your eyes you squeezed him closer. “Everything is a surprise with you.”

Prompt fill: Supercat, #5: "Are you drunk?" 

Kara was going to kill Alex. 

She really was. 

Okay...she wasn't, and honestly even the thought of it - flashes of memories, her sister’s shining eyes and tremulous pleas - makes her feel like her stomach is trying to extricate itself from her body. 

But she was mad. Like, really mad. 

Okay, maybe not that mad but she was definitely miffed. Irritated. Sufficiently not pleased. 

Because ever since she'd told her sister that she may possibly like both men and women, she's been nothing short of...ecstatic. Overzealous, a complete and thoroughly supportive wing woman. 

So, Lena Luthor, huh? 

There had been her super flushed cheeks (pun intended?) and gasps of sputtering laughter, followed by Alex! That's - totally and utterly...I, and she's - she'd flapped her hands about, a clear message - anyway! 

So that had sealed it. After a week of radio silence - radio silence being the proud, wide smiles Alex had been giving her en lieu of verbal encouragement - enacted by Kara herself, Alex had showed up at her doorstep armed with two boxes of pizza and pot-stickers and Kara had been too enamored with the food she was shoveling down her throat to notice Alex sneaking her phone away and downloading the Her app and setting up a profile for her. 

Cut to her in a black, sleeveless dress just a sneeze away from hurdling over the line of public decency, sitting across a gorgeous, long-haired brunette. 

And though her eyes were a deep caramel, inviting and kind, and her velvet voice the icing on top of a cake she'd very much dip her finger in, she'd been distracted all night. Fidgeting constantly, adjusting her glasses, biting the inside of her mouth, bouncing her foot encased in a heel far too high for even her super balance. 

She'd thought her well-placed giggles and smiles had been enough to hide her wandering mind but when a warm hand lands softly on top of her own, stilling her fingers where they had been drumming, she looks up with wide eyes, mouth parting. 

Her date, Danielle, isn't angry, though. She looks amused. “Am I really so boring, Kara?” 

“Oh,” she lets out a whoosh of air, a chuckle interwoven in the noise. “No. No, of course not. You're...you're wonderful and gorgeous,” she breathes because well, she is, and she twists her mouth as she contemplates how honest she wants to be. “It's just..” she sighs, embarrassment and maybe a lot of nervousness warming her cheeks and stuttering in her chest. “It's been awhile since I’ve been on a date,” she settles on the half-truth, “do you mind if I-?” She points over Danielle’s shoulder to the restrooms. “I promise I'm not bailing, I just -” 

“Need a breather,” the brunette finishes, benevolent eyes crinkling with her smile. 

Kara lets out a grateful breath, squeezing the woman’s hand before scooting off her stool and making her way toward the restrooms. 

She’s bowing her head and gripping the round marble sink a little too hard when she hears the door squeak open, the muted pulse of the music spilling unfettered into the room before it’s dulled again with the soft click of metal. 

“I hope you’re at least planning to let her under that dress of yours after leaving such a lovely woman sitting alone in a bar filled with overweight, butch lesbians on the prowl.” 

Kara freezes. And thank god she's the one with the super hearing because she’s not sure she'd be able to handle having this particular person hear how quickly her heart is beating right now. 

For a split second she thinks she's imagining it. The click of those heels. That voice. 

But when she tips her eyes up and sees the hazel nestled in jade, sharp and glittering and fond, the cocked hip and arms crossed over a midnight blue blouse, it takes all of her restraint not to crack the marble beneath her palms.

“M-Miss Grant?” 

“I can't believe you waited until after I left to come out of the closet. Really, Kiera. I could have used the pick-me-up after some of my more hellish mornings.” 

“I -” Kara shakes her head, not really sure she can move, her body feeling as if it's at a permanent standstill. “I'm sorry?” 

“Miss Grant,” Kara breathes, cutting off whatever snide comment Cat was about to level at her; she feels her stomach twist at the eye roll she hadn't realized she'd missed so much. “What are you -” she remembers exactly where they are and her brow furrows together even more, face scrunching, “What are you doing here?” 

Cat lifts a shoulder, as if it's a normal occurrence, her being at a gay bar. “They serve better drinks here,” she says, overly nonchalant. There's the little hiccup in her heartbeat, though, and Kara feels her nervousness ebb away a little. Feels a surge of confidence that usually only surfaces when she's in her suit and cape. 

She feels a teasing smirk curve her lips, feeling like now, in this setting, with Cat no longer her boss, and her heart still beating a fair bit quicker than normal, she can maybe get away with her next words. She turns to face Cat fully. “Better drinks or a better selection for a bed mate?” 

She guesses she should have been better prepared for it but when Cat’s brow ticks up, and her eyes slide down, a hum vibrating in her chest, one that Kara feels, Kara almost swallows her own tongue. 

Rao. 

“Bed mate, Kara, really?” Cat says, voice dropping into an octave that has Kara thinking of curling smoke and Bourbon. Kara’s eyes flutter at the proper usage of her name, sucking in a breath through her teeth. Cat sees it, hears it. Smirks. 

And then she's stepping forward, into Kara’s personal space, face inches from hers before she turns her head, one of her honey blonde curls tickling at Kara’s cheekbone as one hand rests against the marble at her left hip and the other reaches behind Kara. 

“I don't take bed mates,” she husks, her mouth directly at Kara’s ear. Kara holds her breath, a shudder rippling down her back, hair standing on end at the nape of her neck. “I take lovers, and tonight there are very few women out there I'm interested in playing with.” 

“Oh,” Kara exhales, the sound more a moan than she'd intended, and her cheeks burn when it echoes in the small room, loud and very, very clear. 

“Do you like the idea of that, Kara? A woman in my bed?” Cat’s fingers are trailing slow circles into the fabric of the dress sitting right at her hipbone. She shivers at the touch but bristles at the words. 

“No,” she says through clenched teeth, a wave of lashing heat scoring across her skin at the thought of someone else touching Cat. Of Cat enjoying it, allowing it. 

She's forgotten that she's supposed to be in here giving herself a pep talk, wringing her hands in apprehension at the thought of kissing a woman for the first time. She’s forgotten she's left Danielle waiting. She's forgotten she’s in a grimy bathroom of a gay bar. 

She knows nothing but the heat rolling off of Cat in thick waves, the wandering fingers becoming more and more deliberate. 

“No,” Cat repeats, and Kara can hear the smile. “Not the sharing type?” 

Cat’s hand snakes around to the dip in her back, where the copper in her zipper kisses onyx fabric, and flexes her fingers. Kara’s back arcs in response and Cat’s lips graze her jawline. Cat leans into Kara, their fronts pressing together, and oh. Fire licks at her veins and her own fingers curl, denting marble, five perfect marks. 

“Well,” she rasps against the lobe of Kara’s ear, “I think any of that pesky nervousness should be taken care of now, hm?” 

Cat’s pulling away in the next second, stepping backward, her left hand wrapped around a few brown paper towels. 

And then, she walks out, heels snicking with every step. 

Kara sags against the sink, legs trembling. 

She exhales, rough and ragged and tinged with shock. 

What in the hell just happened? 

“All my hard work and not even a kiss on the cheek.” Cat clicks her tongue and Kara spins around. Cat's leaning against the outside wall of the bar, a light grey trench coat over her shoulders now, lapels open and belt catching in the cool night’s air. 

“Are you drunk?” 

Cat startles at the tone. But Kara isn't going to apologize for it. She wasn't going to be Cat’s plaything for the night. 

“No,” Cat says, word hitched high. “Is that why you look like you're seconds away from melting my face off with only the force of your glare?” 

She sounds too amused to be contrite and Kara sets her jaw, wrapping her own pea coat tighter around her middle. 

“It was lovely to see you, Miss Grant. I wish you a safe travel on your way back home.” 

She tries to brush past Cat, even if she's going the wrong way, but a hand wraps around her bicep and though she could easily wrench out of it, she allows the hold, stops. 

She doesn't turn, though. Not yet. She's mortified to find that she's on the verge of tears. 

“Kara...” Cat whispers. 

“I don't need your pity, Cat,” She uses her name like Cat does her own, a weapon. “Nor did I ever think you cruel.” She works her jaw to abate the burn at her eyelids. It doesn't really work. “But what you did back there…” 

“Oh, Kara.” 

And she's being tugged to turn, to move closer, and Cat’s holding her strings, so she obeys. 

Fingers brush over her cheek, catching a few tears, before they tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. 

She doesn't meet Cat’s eyes until a crooked finger tilts her chin up. 

“My beautiful girl.” It's the reverence that knocks something loose inside of Kara. The crinkle at the corners of such expressive eyes, the affectionate smile, small and one so like those she reserved only for Carter. 

"Your first kiss with a woman should be as extraordinary as you are, Kara." 

Her mind’s reeling at the amount of times her name has been said tonight by lips she's ached for for so long. The two syllables being curved and enunciated in that way only Cat has. 

She doesn't miss the subtle adjective just like she didn't miss the melting glare comment earlier. 

They've both known for a while, had come to a tacit agreement, and now Kara feels that ache again, more pronounced with each dip of Cat’s gaze to her lips. 

“Do you trust me?” Kara asks on a whisper. 

“Shouldn't that be my line?” 

There's a glint in darkening green eyes that makes Kara bite at the inside of her mouth. 

“Hold on,” Kara murmurs as she wraps her arms around Cat, as Cat wraps her own around Kara’s neck. 

“Don’t you dare drop me,” Cat hisses. 

Kara rolls her eyes and tightens her arms. 

Like she'd ever drop Cat Grant of all people.

Prompt #1 (blanket, pig, Michael)

Warning: Yes, I still suck at writing so read with caution lol

"Little Paradise"

Today's forecast predicted heavy blizzards that would last for almost the whole week. As expected every January in Toronto. It also meant that Michael would be going through a hard time taking his car out of the thick snow that would soon accumulate outside his garage. But nevermind that yet; he had all the time to deal with it tomorrow. For now, he focused on the mug of hot cocoa snuggling between his near-freezing palms and on the indoor activities he could do with his daughter.

"Daddy?" a squeaky voice called from a doorway.

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Don'tchu have work today?"

It's adorable how his baby girl worried for his job, after the countless times he had spent crying over companies who couldn't accept his application for the past months. Just proved how pure a child's love for a parent could be. He beckoned the girl towards him, slipping herself inside her daddy's arms. She sat on his lap while his hand kept the mug steady so its hot contents won't slush towards her.

"Do you see the weather outside, hon? The yetis are out. Would you want daddy to be taken away?"

She frowned, then shook her head violently, "No! I don't want to."

He freed the mug, placing it on the coffee table in front of him, just beside the tv remote. "I don't want that, either," then he gave her a pat on her head, slightly ruffling her hair.

Life of a single parent had been a giant kick in his ass. One that had left a big bruise that could last for a lifetime. His wife left him just a year ago, and explaining it to his daughter was an even tougher situation. The way her eyes blinked out of cluelessness when he said that her mommy would be gone for a very long time was a stitched memory to his already beaten heart. And if only he had the power to turn back time, back to that day she called him to insist that she will drive home despite the forecast, he would undo it. He would tell her to stay in her office for the night. And he was willing to argue even, just so she won't meet the same truck. Just so she won't be dragged along the road's length. Just so she won't die through the same accident.

A frail finger poked his cheek. "Daddy, are you thinking about mommy?" Damn, he spaced out again.

He nodded with a gentle smile on his face, holding his daughter's hand that poked him, "Of course, sweetie. She's always in my mind."

"Why did she have to leave again?"

Although it pained him, he had to satisfy the girl's curiosity. Gotta be a good father. "She had to because... she had to watch over us. It's her new job."

"So she's like a spy, right?"

"Sort of."

"Mommy's so cool. I want to be like her when I grow up. So I could watch you, too!"

He fought the tear that filmed his eyes. It would really turn their situation upside down if he started crying. He should show his daughter that he's happy- most importantly, that he's proud of her. But with the little lie he made up, he solemnly wished that his daughter won't go through the same fate as her mother. Or else it would be the end for him.

"You'd want to watch me, even if I take a biiiig dump in the restroom?" he playfully said in a shocked tone.

The girl stuck her tongue out, like she was disgusted, then giggled, "Ew, daddy, of course not! Poop is gross!"

Her adorable giggles brought him to the mood of tickling. That he did, and her daughter squirmed and struggled to get out of his torture embrace. When his arms felt exhausted, she yanked herself out and ran to her room. He knew she was trying to hide, but he didn't bother playing that game with her at that moment. Instead, he finished his mug of cocoa that had gone almost cold.

Michael stood up from the couch, leaving his now empty mug in the sink. As he whirled, his daughter appeared with a pink blanket tied around her neck to resemble a cape.

"Oh my!" he exaggerated, riding along his daughter's antics. She even had a cartoon pig mask that hid her face down to the button of her nose. Her hands were locked onto her waist while in a stance that noted confidence. "Who are you supposed to be?"

"I'm the great Watcher! I spy on my daddy and I love animals!" Oh, so that's why she had a pig mask.

He continued going along, kneeling in front of her like a devotee, "O great Watcher, if you would allow, I would like to take a nap in the comforts of my couch. Would you be there to guard my back?"

She giggled, entertained by her daddy's compliance, "Yes, of course. My magical cape here would give you warmth."

She reached out for her daddy's hand, passing heat that warmed even his heart, and helped him lay on the couch. Her cape had been untied and returned to its natural function as a blanket, tucking him in it. Like what he did to her every night, she brushed his cheek, her hand running over the stubble he had, then pecked on his wrinkled forehead.

"I love you, daddy. I'll watch you while you sleep," she whispered, her innocent blue eyes delivering tranquility through the windows of his soul, just as how the blue eyes of his wife once gave her relief in times he was down in the dumps. He was deeply touched by how his daughter had such a little body but a very big heart for family, especially for him. It was at that moment he knew that they were able to raise her well as she offered love that was so sincere, even to a traitorous father like him that hid her mother's death from her.

"Thank you, sweetie. Your mother is very proud of you."

"Really?" and her eyes twinkled like the shooting stars that brought more value to the velvet night sky.

"Of course, honey," he assured. The little girl answered him with another sweet smile. "Now, why don't you come here in the blanket and sleep with daddy?"

She jumped in glee, then scurried inside the blanket as she wrapped herself in her daddy's arms. He knew that his wife was in a better place, but the difference is, he won't try to be where the love of his life is right now. Instead, he'll stay here on earth and enjoy this little paradise he had.