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jjungkookislife · 10 months

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Quarterly Fic Recs 2023: #2

Hello! I am a little late with my list but between work and my laptop taking so long to even boot up, it’s been hard to do anything. I’ve enjoyed all these fics these past few months and I hope you enjoy them as well. A huge thank you to all the writers for sharing their work 💜

Seokjin

none :(

Yoongi

red chopsticks @hobicakess

summary: Now everytime you see chopsticks, you'll think of him.

beloved @bang-tan-bitches

summary: Court was just a game of politics after all. And you intended to win

fear and dumplings ch. 1 @softyoongiionly

summary: You’re in your final semester at University when your Abnormal Psychology professor assigns you a partnered project surrounding your greatest fears. Lucky for you, your partner just so happens to be a cute boy named Min Yoongi.

Hoseok

dinners & diatribes @yoongiphoria

Namjoon

the one with namjoon and the u-haul @eoieopda

summary: in which namjoon is buff, jungkook is late, & you're trapped in an elevator.

Jimin

blunt rotation @gimmethatagustd

summary: Supplying your law school classmates with weed on the regular might as well be a full-time job. It’s lucrative, but lately, you’ve seen a dip in profits. Maybe it’s because you keep giving out the Pretty Boy Discount to a certain guy in your ethics class…

Taehyung

none :(

Jungkook

jungkook with chubby girlfriend pt. 2 @ta3bae

calling you cool @kithtaehyung

summary: after your band finishes a coveted club gig, you’re frustrated that your dope ass night ends with you hiding in a bathroom stall. at least, this is what you figured—until someone comes along to change that.

prove it to me @kookslastbutton

summary: “I’m not your baby Jungkook. Remember that.” Those are the words you say right before jumping into a one night stand with Jeon Jungkook, the man who’s constantly annoying you with his college fling stories. You decide maybe just this once you’ll play into his game and prove that he’s no more average than the rest.

because i love you ch. 10 @readyplayerhobi

summary: According to society, Jeon Jungkook should not be with you. He should be with a younger, hotter and thinner girl instead of wasting his time on you. It’s a good thing Jungkook doesn’t care what society thinks then.

only when you’re lonely @jjkeverlast

summary: jungkook has never dated anyone, because of you and you’re soft touches that bring him to orbit. it’s all it’s ever been, just sex between you. although, it brings an unexpected turn when jungkook accidentally blurts you out as his girlfriend to his college friends which results in them expecting you to an upcoming party. what jungkook doesn’t know is that you’re much more than just someone he meets when he’s lonely.

OT7/ Multple Members

satisfy ch. 5 @suga-kookiemonster

summary: “listen,” taehyung says, eyes wide and eager as he smiles at you. “i figure we can just help each other out. i scratch your back, you scratch mine.” but when you find yourself suddenly in need of a massive favor, exactly how much scratching are you willing to do?

fang f*cker @sailoryooons

summary: Jungkook loves reading his smutty vampire comic and so what if he fashions himself a little bit after the main character. Yoongi finds it wildly offensive. Every day he has to watch Jungkook play at being ominous and spooky - and okay, maybe it’s a little cute. But it’s mostly offensive, and Yoongi would know. He’s a vampire, after all.

before i leave you ch. 51 @hollyhomburg

summary: you’ve never seen Namjoon this angry before, but you can’t say he’s not rightfully upset at You and Hobi. Not every punishment can go according to plan…

Seokjin

wrong place wrong time @bangtanintotheroom

summary: Why couldn’t the two of you have just waited until you got home?

smile @shuadotcom

summary: Kim Seokjin has been a professional tennis player for years. He has countless tennis trophies in his penthouse in South Korea and has won two grand slams. He’s even in talks to participate in the upcoming Olympics. He’s dated a handful of well-known people with no problem and is confident to the point of irritation to those around him.

the one with seokjin, soju, and all the stars in the sky @eoieopda

summary: Kim Seokjin got really drunk on a members-night-out, so his fiancée has to pick his cute, clingy ass up.

i almost do @yoongiphoria

summary: You wipe the tears that have trickled down your cheek, collected below your nose. “I miss you, Seokjin. Can… can you come find me?”

the dogs of war @ugh-yoongi

moaning on stream @here4kpopfics

summary: You just want to sleep in a little bit longer, but your boyfriend has decided to play a frustratingly difficult game on stream. However, his frustration sounds a lot similar to something else…

my soul @peachypinkygloss

summary: No one said loving a vampire would be easy, especially not one who is tortured by his past and his present. Your love for him is eternal, even though you cannot be with him forever... Or can you?

flurious @miscelunaaa

summary: it’s fine, you’re not mad at your best friend at all! in fact!! you’re so fine that you’re going to work off some steam just to prove how fine you are!!

Yoongi

glorified memories @shina913

summary: Another late-night phone call with Yoongi.

Hoseok

all it takes @yoongiofmine

summary: After months of quietly pinning after Jung Hoseok, your friends decide to give you a little push. Sometimes a New Years Eve party and a round of Seven Minutes in Heaven is all it takes.

Namjoon

none :(

Jimin

none :(

Taehyung

one mo’ gen @bangtanintotheroom

summary: You find your ‘relationship’ with Taehyung escalating sooner than you expected.

up close and personal ^

summary: Taehyung thought he had seen it all with you, but you prove him wrong.

bear with me ^

summary: You have a special guest today, one of the fuzzy kind.

wedding bells @hyungieyoongi

E2L

Jungkook

just a little @soft4gguk

imagine @chryblossomjjk

summary: jungkook wants nothing more than to spend your anniversary cuddled up in a fancy hotel bathroom, eating takeout and binge watching tv shows. you, on the other hand, have something more exciting in mind.

virgin sacrifice @girl8890

summary: Since the day you were born, your parents prepared you for your sacrifice. The whole village knew, and with that everyone stayed away from you. Thinking even just looking at you would make the demon in waiting mad. The demon that has been praying on you since birth, but not for what you expected.

tongue tied @jeonqkooks

summary: “Jeez, you’re acting like I asked to peg you or something.”

when it all falls apart @7deadlysinsfics

summary: what’s there to do when your husband says he thinks he doesn’t love you anymore? you pick up the broken pieces the best you can and try to move on

OT7/Multiple Members

before i leave you ch. 53 @hollyhomburg

summary: A snippet of the future- a flash forward- in which you and jimin reach an agreement.

like crazy @euphoricfilter

summary: the story of why you loved to dance in the rain.

baby @theharrowing

summary: Jimin, aka Baby, doesn't let just anyone have him for free. What a shame that the man he likes spending time with the most is a cop.

red light - white walls @kookieswan

summary: Seokjin’s been away for a while, and it makes him wonder just how much he’s missed. Yoongi, thankfully, is surprisingly loose lipped.

Yoongi

busted @kithtaehyung

summary: when things go a bit south at your house party, decisions between you and yoongi have to be made.

OT7/ Multiple Members

sweeter than sweet @gimmesumsuga

summary: You never would have expected someone like Park Jimin to notice you. As handsome and beguiling as he is deadly, you’re enthralled from the very moment you meet. Addicted to his kiss and his bite, Jimin opens up your eyes to a whole new world of love, lust and seduction.

#jjungkookislife fic rec #jjungkookislife fic rec list #jjungkookislife fic rec masterlist

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nextdoor-neighbors · 3 years

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What Friends Are For (Pt 2)

Link to Part One!

Link to Part Three!

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol/being under the influence, references to sex, fingering

A/N: here’s part two! i got a few requests for this, and honestly, i might continue this one and make a part three, if you guys like it. lemme know! :)

Things are different, there’s no denying it.

Not bad different. Just... different.

Ever since you lost your virginity to George, you’ve found yourself paying more attention to your best friend. Not that you hadn’t always been paying attention to him, but before, he was just George. A friend to go to for a laugh, a shoulder to cry on, or just someone to sit with quietly while you both studied. He was always there, a steady presence in your life that was unwavering. Someone you always wanted to be around because of the happiness that he’s brought you.

But now, he’s all of that, plus more. You’ve found yourself noticing the little, physical things; things you never noticed before. Like the way his lips curve up into melt-worthy smirk whenever Fred says something stupid, or the way he spins whatever he’s holding between his long, slender fingers - whether it be his wand or a quill or something else - when he’s thinking hard. Or, in class, when he leans back in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest, how his biceps strain against the fabric of his shirt.

It’s been a few days since it happened, and it’s been your and George’s little secret. You’ve been thinking about it quite a bit, probably more than you’d like to admit. In class, at meals, and when you’re sitting next to him whenever your friend group hangs out. You ache for the feeling of his lips against the sensitive skin of your throat as he’s inside of you again, but you don’t know how to initiate it, which - you admit - is kind of stupid. After all, the hard part was telling him that you were a virgin still and implying that you wanted to have sex with him. So, why were you suddenly so nervous to do it again?

Now, you’re sitting with your friends in the common room. You’re positioned on the floor between Fred and George, while Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Lee Jordan complete the circle. You really should be working on homework during your free period, but per usual, the twins had gotten all of you sidetracked quite a while ago.

“I heard there’s a Ravenclaw party tonight,” Lee says, “We’re going, right?”

“Of course we are. Ravenclaw parties are almost as good as ours,” Angelina replies with a smile, nudging Fred. Maybe you can talk to Angelina. You’ve never been super close with her, but she’s a great friend and someone you know you can trust. You want to ask her for advice on George, considering the relationship between her and Fred, even though you’re not sure what their relationship is exactly.

Fred bursts into some rant about how your group will need to load up on some good drinks before you go tonight, and while he does so, George gets your attention by tapping his finger on your thigh. You look over at him, your heart somersaulting when he smiles at you. The feeling catches you by surprise.

“Are you gonna go?” he asks, quietly, so only you can hear. While the rest of your friends never pass on a party, you sometimes hang back, or you only go to make sure they get back to their rooms safely after they drink way too much. George has stayed back with you a few times, even though you protested and told him to go have fun, to which he responded that he always has fun with you regardless of where you are. The first night that he hung back with you and skipped a party, the two of you spent several hours shrinking all of Fred’s belongings just enough so that it would be irritating but so it wouldn’t be noticeable at first. It’s one of your favorite memories with George to this day, laughing with him for hours, alone in his dorm.

“If you go,” you say without thinking.

He smirks slightly, eyes flitting down to your lips momentarily.

“I’ll make sure you have fun, don’t you worry.” He winks before turning back to the group.

Butterflies erupt inside of you, and you can’t help but wonder what kind of fun George is implying that you’ll have. You can only hope.

The rest of the day passes painfully slowly, your mind far away from school, instead focused on the party.

Finally, it’s nearing time to leave. You’re in your room with Angelina, Katie, and Alicia, who are all getting ready, but you have no idea what to wear. You want to look good and to maybe catch someone’s eye.

“Ang, what do I wear?” you ask.

“Ooh, I have the perfect outfit in mind.” She grabs something from her trunk before walking over to yours and sifting through it, finally pulling out a simple black tank top. “Here!”

You look at the black mini skirt she hands you, half horrified, half intrigued.

“C’mon, you’ll look hot!” she insists, “You’ll be able to pull any guy you want tonight.”

Your mind immediately goes George, but you push the thought away and decide to start getting changed. Soon enough, you’re dressed, and you spin around so your friends can see the outfit from all angles, per their request.

“You look so good!” Katie exclaims.

“Do you have your eye on anyone specific?” Alicia asks, “Because the boys aren’t going to be able to take their eyes off of you tonight.”

You blush at her words, and again, you picture George from a few days ago, smiling at you as you lay on the bed, watching him get redressed.

“Uh, no. No one specific,” you lie.

The four of you finish getting ready before heading down to the common room, waiting for the twins and Lee so that all of you can head to Ravenclaw Tower together. You hear the boys before you see them, and they come down the stairs laughing loudly. George stops laughing abruptly when he lays eyes on you, pulling his lower lip in with his teeth as his eyes search your body.

“Hello, ladies,” Lee says, winking at the group of you, “Just as a reminder for the evening, I am single-”

“Oh, lay off, Jordan,” Fred snickers, sliding an arm around Angelina’s waist and starting out of the common room. Lee, Alicia, and Katie follow them, leaving you and George at the back.

You look over at George, who’s looking you up and down once again. Part of you doesn’t want to go to the party anymore, and instead just stay back with George, alone, but you know it’s too late for that. Plus, after what he said earlier, you want to see what he has in store.

“You look bloody amazing,” he says, leaning down by your ear as you walk quietly down the halls.

“Thank you,” you answer him quietly, smiling and hoping that you don’t turn too red.

Neither of you say much else on your way to the party, but upon entering the Ravenclaw common room (after the seven of you had to figure out the answer to the riddle), you see that the party is already in full swing.

There are cheers upon seeing your group’s arrival, because everyone knows that a party isn’t a party without the Weasley twins there. But, tonight, it seems like Fred’s attention is focused on Angelina, and when George’s hand rests on your lower back to guide you through the crowd to where the drinks are located, you’re optimistic for how the night will go for you.

“Look,” you practically yell to George over the music, pointing across the crowd to Lee, who’s already making advances on some Ravenclaw girls in your year.

George laughs and shakes his head as he opens two bottles of fire whiskey, handing one to you. Your fingers brush against his as you take the bottle from him, and you take a long swig to try and calm your sudden nerves.

“C’mon,” George says, leaning down so you can hear him, his lips brushing against your ear. You shudder as you feel his breath against you, and you’re filled with desire for him. “Care to join me for a dance?”

You take another drink before nodding and following George to what you could consider the dance floor. Right away, he takes his place behind you, resting a hand on your waist while he holds his bottle with the other, leaning forward into you.

You immediately lean back into him, feeling his body heat against your back, which again, makes you think of your night together the other day. His fingers tease the hem of your tank top as the two of you move slightly to the music, and you feel him close to your ear again.

“I’ve been thinking about the other night,” he says, his voice low. You let your eyes close for a moment as you take another drink and sink back into him. With fire whiskey being as strong as it is and your low tolerance for alcohol, you can already feel its effects working on you. And it’s causing you to want to drag George off into a corner and do what you want with him - even moreso than you wanted to when you were completely sober.

“Me too,” you admit, grinding back against him. You feel his grip tighten on the hip that he’s holding.

“And especially with you looking like that, there’s no way I’m going to be able to keep my hands off you.”

You turn around to face George, looking up at him, your faces inches away from each other.

“Then don’t,” you say, teasingly, before bumping your shoulder against his as you pass him to go get another fire whiskey.

You don’t know how much time has passed, or how many drinks you and George have had, but what you do know is that you’re having the time of your life, grinding against George on the dance floor, not caring who sees. Before long, though, George is grabbing your wrist and guiding you out of the crowd, out of the common room, and you know exactly what both of you have in mind.

“Georgie,” you say, stopping in the middle of the hallway, which is almost too quiet compared to the loud party you just came from. George stops and turns around to look at you. His cheeks are flushed, and his red hair is sticking up in practically every direction. You know, in the back of your mind somewhere, that the two of you will need to talk about this eventually, but right now, you just want his hands all over you.

“Yes, princess?”

Your heart somersaults at the pet name. You gaze at the broom closet door to your right, and without a word, you grab George’s hand and drag him into it.

As soon as the door shuts behind him, you and George pounce on each other, mouths against each other in hot, messy kisses, his hands sliding up your skirt and gripping your thighs, your hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pulling him as close to you as possible. You can taste the fire whiskey as you kiss him hungrily.

He backs you up against the wall of the small closet, and you get the sense that you’re about to see a side to George that you’ve never seen. He was gentle before, when he took your virginity, and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the desire or both, but whatever it is that’s making him push you against the wall or kiss you as if it was the last time he was ever going to, you’re enjoying it.

You moan against his mouth as he pulls your panties aside and pushes his fingers inside of you, pumping them at a steady pace.

“You’re so wet for me, baby,” he groans, and just as you’re about to try and respond, the closet door opens.

“George?”

“Y/N?”

George pulls his fingers out of you and backs away as you tug your skirt down in embarrassment, still aching for George, but then you see who it is.

“Oi, find some other closet!” George snaps at Fred, who’s standing hand in hand with Angelina and gaping at the sight of the two of you together. “This one’s occupied!”

“Are you two-” Angelina starts, looking at you with a mixture of surprise and amusement on her face.

“What, friends can’t snog in broom closets?” George replies before you can even think of what to say. And there it is: friends. Even though it’s what you are, part of you still hates to hear the word. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have some unfinished business.”

George shuts the door, turning back to you, and you can hear Angelina giggle from the other side of the door as her and Fred walk away. You know you’ll have a lot of explaining to do later.

“Where were we?” George grins at you, stepping forward to close the gap again, but you put your hand on his chest to stop him. As much as your relationship with him is confusing you, there is one thing you’re not confused about, and that’s how much you want him. But, you don’t want anyone else walking in on you. You got lucky that it was only Fred and Angelina who found you.

“Let’s go back to your room,” you say, “The last thing I want is Filch finding us next.”

George laughs and opens the door to the closet, guiding you out, his hand resting on your ass.

“I suppose,” he mock-whines as you walk down the halls, and you look over at him, admiring how hot he looks.

While you’re still figuring out what exactly your feelings for George are, you do know that if passionate snogging, sex, and getting fingered in broom closets is what being friends includes, you’re okay with being just friends.

At least, you think you are.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley one shot #george weasley imagine #weasley twins #weasley twins x reader #fred and george weasley #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley one shot #harry potter fanfiction

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blissfulparker · 3 years

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Shoot your shot→Prince!Tom

Parings→ Prince!Tom x Archer!reader

Summary→ Growing up, hidden in the Holland garden, you practiced your archery every single day. Never missing a shot at anything. Tom falls in love watching you from his window but a prince and a normal girl can never be together

Warning→ forbidden love? Maybe? If I make a pt.2 there will be more forbidden love. Angst, slowburn

A/N→ This is my first full fic in awhile for I haven’t really had time/motivation for anything but @spideyspeaches requested a prince!tom blurb and it sparked so much I have their permission to make a full fic!

At the age of seven, Tom was a curious little boy. Running around causing trouble for the maids and servants who ran the palace. He was always playing rough and dirty but in the right times he could clean himself up.

At the age of seven for you, you went to school and tried your best not to be in trouble. Your parents worked a job for the king and queen of England. Your father a cook and your mother a maid. From a young age you always imagined marrying the prince. Hoping he was just as beautiful as you’d seen him in pictures. Only at the age of seven did you fall in love with the prince.

At the age of eleven, Tom got a dog. Bringing it home after school one day and letting it run around in the garden. Running around in the garden falling into you.

“Careful!” Your body small and young, you wore boyish clothes and your eyes pointed at the boy.

“Sorry!” He called the dog back and blinked a few times to make sure you were real. He had seen you once, he thinks. Leaving with one of the cooks but he can’t remember who is who sometimes. “What are you doing out here?” He has the excited dog by his side. Holding her by her collar.

“I’m practicing—“ before he could finish he hears the sound of his mom calling him. His face blushes red as he knows he’s in trouble.

“What’s your name?” He asks quickly and you furrow your brows.

“(Y/n).” You say sternly. He remembers that. The way you didn't step back and treat him like a virus but instead you acted like a normal kid with him. You were one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever seen, besides his mom. He thought some of the girls at school were pretty but you were an angel. “What’s yours?” He didn’t really realize his fame at that point. It didn’t bother him that you didn’t know his name.

“Thomas, but everyone calls me Tom.” He says. You swallow hard and continue staring at him before he turns around and runs off with the dog.

That was the first time he met you.

As time grew he watched you from his window. As creepy as that sounded he admired you. You grew strong and careless, tough and friendly to everyone that comes across you.

He never really talked to you since. Every time he tried to say something to you, you quickly walked past him. Keeping quiet and your head down as you remembered he was a prince and you were a daughter to a servant. Your father was a cook and your mother was a maid. To him, you were nothing. You should’ve been nothing.

You two could never be together.

Tom pulls himself to the garden. Where you stand for the 10th year in a row, shooting your shot at the target. Sometimes he would see his youngest brother join you. He didn’t know if it was classes or for fun but he had never seen his little brother smile so much.

How you had talked to him but not Tom confused him.

He makes his way through the flowers and spots you alone. Alone pulling the arrow back as he admires your movement.

“It’s rude to stare.” You comment as you walk over and pull the arrow out of the target. Bullseye, as always.

“I didn’t mean to disrespect you or disturb you. I have a question for you.” He walks closer. You have a different look with him, he can’t tell if you’re scared or if you don’t like him. Although everyone likes him.

“I want to know if you can teach me. Train me how to shoot—“ he starts and you look up.

“I have classes weekdays in the mornings, you’re more than welcome to join—“ you cut him off but now he cuts you off.

“I meant privately, I’m not interested in attending a class for children. I can pay you, whatever works for you. That is only if you allow it.” He asks and you look at the arrow that sits on the bench.

You didn’t want his money, it was be embarrassing to have be in love with someone while they know you’re struggling. It was embarrassing to be in love with the prince without his knowledge and him know your father and mother work for him.

“Your mum and dad know you want to do this?” You ask and he chuckles and looks away.

“Darling, I’m 24 years old. I don’t need my mothers permission to do anything anymore.” He says and you look down. “Listen, you’re the strongest archer I know. You are so talented I trust you. I’m putting a lot of trust in you.”

“Weekends.” You say. “I can teach you on the weekends, that's when I’m free.” You told him and he smiles as if he’s won.

“So I’ll see you Saturday?” He asks and you pick up your bow. He watches as you throw it around so it hangs on your back. He’s never been so infatuated with someone.

“Early morning. You need training before you can just take your shot. I will see you then, your highness.” You say and he laughs making you tense up slightly.

“Just Tom, (y/n).” He turns and walks away.

As he walks away, you watch him. You watch him in shock as for after all these years, he remembers your name.

The seventh weekend in a row you’ve been training him. He’s awful, you had to admit but he wanted to do this. He wanted to learn.

Most sessions were met with laughter at Tom’s failures and mostly him watching you. He didn’t mind watching you, he always loved it.

But he made a bond with you, you two started to bond. Creating a friendship like none before. You even allowed him to bring you lunch a few times, although you always remembered your place.

“Okay,” you came behind him. Your chest met with his back and arms around him. “It’s about the strategy, like I said. Pull back your arm.” You guide him. Your fingers wrapped around his hand and he focused more on your hand than on his target.

Your breath is hot on his shoulder as you help him. He looks back at you for a split second and swallows hard. His lips slightly open and you try your hardest to focus.

“Focus.” You say trying not to show you’re flustered. He goes back to the target and as you let your hand off of his he lets go of the arrow. The arrow that completely misses the target and he lets out a sigh.

“(Y/n) I can’t do this—“ he starts as he lets the bow down and in all honesty you don’t even know if he can either.

“Yes you can tom, you’re not focusing enough! Maybe we should figure out what’s distracting you and go from there.” You suggest and he looks up at you as that’s the last thing he wants to talk about, what’s distracting him.

“Maybe we can take a break for awhile, get some lunch—“ you start and he shakes his head.

“No, I want to try again. I had it last Sunday.” He pleads and your eyes meet his. Swallowing hard you hand him back the bow.

You watch him get back in position before you quickly come behind him to help his position. Your arms make him tense and your scent of lavender and vanilla warms him.

“Okay.” You almost whisper and his hand goes weak. “Tom! Focus!” You nearly demand the prince. He had given you a lot of power as not many people yelled at the prince.

“I can’t.” He lets down the bow and turns to face you. “I can’t focus.” He stands in front of you and grab the bow and arrow from him.

In a way, you knew what was distracting him. But you wished it wasn’t what you knew. You couldn’t be with him, you didn’t want to be hurt. The boy whose dog ran into you at the age of eleven made your life hell sometimes. Sometimes when you would assist at galas and parties you would watch him flirt with princesses or women you knew he should be with. It hurt knowing you would never be with him as you were always below him.

Out of anger, you take the arrow and quickly throw it into the target. It impresses Tom as he didn’t know you could use your bare hands to get a perfect shot.

“You’re not allowing yourself to focus.” You now walk over to the arrow and pull it out. “You wanted this so we need to figure out—“

“I wanted this but I also wanted you. I wanted to get to know you more and I thought this would be a good chance—“ he starts and as you gather your stuff you pause. It was true, the prince liked you.

“Tom, you wanted me to train you and that’s what I’m doing. We can be friends but nothing more. You are a prince and I’m a girl who works two jobs just to keep herself alive. A girl whose parents work under your name and you cannot see as anything more. I knew this was a stupid idea, I should’ve just said—“ you ranted and he grabbed your arm before you can walk past him.

“I don’t care! I don’t care if your family works here or anything! I care about you and I like—“ he starts but you get out of his grasp before you can hear his words.

“Do not do this.” You warned him. “You think you want something that you have no clue what it is. I’m not going to ruin your life just because you think we can live in some fairytale world. I need to go. Find someone else to practice with.” You sniffle as you walk past him and he watches you walk away.

He watches as you walk away. Your hand rub your face wiping a tear away as you hated that he was doing this. All the years spent in your room falling asleep to the ideas of marrying the prince.

Wearing the puffy white wedding dress and having no shame in your name. In your fantasy, you were perfect for him.

It had been weeks. He hasn’t seen you once. As once stood every day in the garden you now haven’t been there once. He had no right looking for you, you were right but he hated that. You and him could never be together. The public and the kingdom wouldn't like that.

He knew he shouldn’t search but he did. He found the studio where you taught the small children on the weekdays.

Wearing layers and hiding his face, he walks into the studio where kids between the ages of seven and ten hold out bows almost their size.

He takes a seat at one of the plastic chairs where parents sit as he watches you crouch down and teach them. They were far more cooperative with you than he was.

“Careful there Ella, bring your arms up a little—there you are!” You smile at the girl before your eyes flicker and meet toms. You felt some shame in ditching him but you didn’t want to get hurt. You did what was right.

Your smile drops as you move to the other kids and help them. Only 15 more minutes and the studio would be empty.

When it empties out, Tom is all that's left. You pick up missed arrows and reassemble the targets. Not making eye contact with the boy.

“It seems a little risky for the prince to be walking the streets like this.” You clear your throat as he stands close by.

“Not risky when you know what you’re doing.” He comes back and you set the arrows in a basket and give him your full attention.

“Tom I already told you I can’t train—“ you start and he shakes his head.

“I’m saying sorry.” He has a more serious face and you’re taken aback. “I made a mistake. I know that we could never be together and it was stupid of me to think I had a chance with someone as perfect as you. I would ruin you and I know that. We would ruin each other.” He admits and you look away.

“Why do you think I didn’t like talking to you in the hallways when I passed? I wasn’t supposed to tom. When I was a teen, I use to believe we could work. I was so blindly in love with you, like everyone else, and I didn’t even know who you were. But even then I knew, I knew we would never work. I always thought to myself, maybe in another life. I didn’t want to train you at first because I knew my feelings would get worse. They did but I pushed them away.” You chuckle at the last part.

His hand goes to hold your face, gently stroking your cheek and looking at you as if you were heaven.

“Tom, go home please I won’t bother you—“ before you could say anything he pushed his lips against yours. They were soft and tasted of the mint chapstick you occasionally saw him wear.

You were taken aback, almost pushing him away but instead you melted into his lips. You felt your body press against his as he pulled you in.

When imagining all the different ways you’d kiss the prince growing up, you never imagined kissing him in the studio of your work. You never imagined it like this.

“Maybe in this life.” Was all he whispered as he pulled back.

“You’re making a mistake.” You warned as he pulled back. His lips plump and pink as he pulled away. They tugged into a smile as he shook his head.

“No im not.” Was all he said as he leaned in for more.

He thinks of how there are many options, many princesses for him to marry but he knows the only princess he wants is right here. The princess with rough hands and never misses her shot.

You never miss your shots.

Please leave feedback it helps and let’s me know if you want more!

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#prince!tom #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #imagine tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland au #tom holland angst #Tom Holland fic #Tom Holland fan fic #tom holland x you #prince!tom fic #tom holland x y/n #Tom Holland x you

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itachi-with-a-chicken · 3 years

Text

Come be my teacher pt 2

Aish we're back

Link to part 1

Jung Hoseok nearly died to actually make publishable Yoongi's book

But eventually he made it

He hoped the day at the luna park was enough for Jungkook to be forgiven after spending nearly every afternoon with Namjoon and his kid brother

Mostly, he hoped Namjoon could forgive him to have to deal with both his child and his own kid brother

When he mentioned it, Namjoon has a variety of emotions.

Surprise, then recognition. Eventually softness.

"they have been good, all things considered." He laughs a little "Just warning you, Jungkook took a passion for Just Dance"

Well, Hoseok considers when he watches his son weirdly dancing in front of the television, there are worst things that could happen

Also, now that he has a life back, he can discard Min Yoongi in his man cave or whatever he likes to call his attic and go back to his routine

Which means, pick up and drive is kid to school

And see again the cute teacher

Not that he cares

But you know

He does

That day Kim Taehyung was wearing a dark green vest and a white shirt and looked as an absolute old man

His housemate confirmed it and if Kim Seokjin tells you you look bad, it's true

The thing is, Taehyung didn't want to look hot, he just wanted to look comfy and cozy to his kids

When he steps outside to collect the kids, he regretted every choice made that morning

Because there it was. In all his elegant glory. Jung Hoseok.

The two exchanged a small wave and Tae nearly forgot he has something to say to him

"Come on Taehyung" he tries to say to himself "he's just another parent. Nothing to worry about. Nothing special. Not a crush, no sir"

"Hoseok-ssi" he calls him. By his name, because the first thing Jung Hoseok told him as they met is "you're taking my son most of the week, we can at least call each other by our own names"

"yah?" He was already moving towards the car, dammit.

Stumbling at bit at the beginning, Tae tells him about the little recital he proposed to the school board that year

Hoseok beamed at him

"that sounds wonderful! kids will have loads of fun"

Taehyung was positively gloating, but tried to hide it

"so this week it's going to be parents-teachers conference, so we can explain every detail"

Nobody will pry from his cold hands the knowledge that the reason why it was happening that week was that Taehyung knew as a fact that Hoseok was busy until now

And also, that nobody knew about the meeting in the first place

The thing is, a meeting was supposed to happen at some point, and Taehyung was a very considerate teacher, okay?

He needed to tell the principal about the meeting, tho

Ugh

On the other hand, Hobi was quite serene.

The wonders of a full night sleep, he guessed

Nope nothing to do with the cute teacher and the cute vest that made him look cozy and cuddly and all the stuff a grown up should not look like

It would be a lie to say that it didn't do anything to Hoseok.

But then again, Hoseok can be a good liar

His phone chimed in, showing a text from Yoongi

"so did you ask him out?"

"who?" "What do you mean who" "i mean who would I ask out" "the teacher, dumbass"

Hoseok stared at the phone for a solid five seconds

"you don't even know what day of the week it is" "And yet I know you brought the little monster to school, so you've seen him"

For someone who forgets to eat, Yoongi can be really persistent about stuff

"why" he just asks, glancing away from his computer. If anything, he knows Yoongi has little to none interest in his love life by itself

Not after he finished all the people he could set him up, anyway

Including himself

That was so weird that both kinda decided it never happened

So back to the text, Hoseok patiently waited for whatever was the real reason behind such concern

"I may or may not started planning the next book based on whatever vibe you and your lovely teacher give off"

Hoseok shrieked, but just a little

"but you know!!! Most of the time the final product have nothing to do with the beginning!!!" Yoongi continues

Six exclamation point usually mean that he's either lying or trying to convince him of something he didn't actually believe in. So lying, after all.

"and what's the plot" hoseok asks, but then "no, nvm. Don't tell me. Just. Idk. No"

Yoongi didn't reply, but then his editorial instinct won over all his better judgement

"okay, tell me the plot"

Yoongi answer arrived after less then three minutes and it was a shit ton long. He basically already planned everything and all he needed was the main characters

"and they would be me and Kim Taehyung?" Was the only answer Hoseok managed to cave

Because yeah, if life was a written book maybe they could have been the perfect romance

Even by changing some basic stuff - "don't worry you're all idols here" - and making some unrealistic concessions - "your character is the greater dancer of all times" - the way Yoongi was telling the story

A story that didn't exist

makes him want to fall in love for real

But here's the catch: they were real people, and crush on your child's teacher is problematic at best, creepy at worst

So no, he won't be pursuing that. Thank you very much

(but gave yoongi permission to work on the story nevertheless because, you know, it's his job)

And he r e a l l y is set on his mind the day of the meeting after school

Doesn't matter that he exited work early just to go home and shower

And definitely didn't have anything to do with his choice of wardrobe that saw some neat jeans he had brought but never wore and his best fitting pastel red shirt

Along with a leather jacket because what the hell he was still young after all

And if some heads turned to check him out, when he entered the classroom, well. He couldn't blame them

He sat gingerly on his child desk and waited. Mr Kim still nowhere to be seen

Talking about Kim Taehyung

His day started the night before with his housemate that, in order to forget his impossible (only according to him) crush decided to have a drink

And since it would be too sad to drink alone, he had to bring Tae down with him

Little mattered he had to work the morning after and kids were not merciful with headache

He enters the room with the parents with eyes fixed on the floor, trying to remember everything he needed to say and--- oh

Of course Jung Hoseok was there

Of course he was stunning

And of cour-- no wait he was talking to Namjoon? What was he doing here?

Oh right. Mixed classes. His kids and mr Lee were together in this project.

Having the ten years old doing the talking and the eight years old doing the dancing was his idea after all

Mr Lee smiles at him, like the old turtle he was, and sat down, waiting for him to speak

The old turtle seemed frail and sweet but he remembered being a child with him. It was all a play

Which makes him perfect for this project, he guess

So, let's convince the parents he knew what he was doing and what he was talking about despite never producing any school play

It went fairly well for the most of it

Every time he met Hoseok's stare, the other man was smiling, and that made him feel both excited and incredibly shy

But mostly gives him enough confidence at least finish the presentation of the general idea

When parents asked questions - price, time needed, how the parts would have been distributed - he tries to be as clear as he can

And hopes nobody will actually spot how much he still doesn't know

Eventually, the questions are over and the meeting is too, with a copy of the project to take home and a promise to see each other as soon as possible

Tae was putting in order his papers, trying carefully to not perceive either Hoseok nor Namjoon, but of course karma hates him

So a few of his pages fly down the desk, right in front of. Well. Of course Hoseok. Who else

It's not like he could have the worst face in the history of faces and just have his life passing by

No, he had to live his 5-hours-sleep-10-hours-work while wearing his most anonymous clothes and have something less of a Idol staring at his face

Wait

He was staring

He said something

He said absolutely something and Tae was just too far away in his head to hear anything oh my--

"everything alright?" Hoseok asked, and the question clearly triggered Namjoon attention, because he came close too

"ye-what-ye sure. I'm sorry, I must be a bit tired. Hi, Namjoon-ah"

Hoseok smiles at him, but Taehyung makes a weird face at the other man

Well, they clearly knew each other enough to drop some honorifics

Probably wasn't the first time Namjoon came instead of his parents to school stuff like this, Hoseok always knew he was a good big brother

"You did great" the young man says, to which Taehyung smiles a little. Namjoon walks over them but doesn't stop, heading towards the door

"I gotta go now, Hoseok-ssi, see you Tuesday. Tae, see you around"

"Watch your steps" both Tae and Hoseok say, which surprised them, but proved them right when Namjoon bumped into a desk

Then it was only them. And Tae knew it's gonna be awkward really soon.

"so, how you know him?" He asks. Oh, Jungkook babysitter. Makes sense

"and you?"

Taehyung makes a weird face, half displeasure.

"I'll tell you in the parking lot, I'll feel less irresponsible if I'm not at work"

Hoseok felt he has to decline and go straight home

Also stop asking about the private life of his kid's teacher and babysitter

Because that was none of his business

But he was a nice person and nice people listen to what others have to say, right?

#vhope #vhope au #vope #kim Taehyung #jung Hoseok #kim Namjoon #kim seokjin #park jimin #min yoongi #jeon jeongkook #bts #bts au #teacher/parent au

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maybedefinitely404 · 3 years

Text

Day 29: Prinxiety/Loceit (pt 4)

Aaaand, part 4, the finale!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 29: You have a telepathic link with your soulmate until the two of you meet.

Content warnings: discussion of conversion therapy/after effects, PTSD, food mentions, anxiety/panic attacks, internalized homophobia, mentions of the foster system/abuse (mental, emotional, neglect, past eating disorder), minor self harm/blood, mentions of dissociating.

Word count: 5.1k

Despite Roman’s claims that being around other people would only distract him, and he didn’t want to have to walk to the library every time he had homework, Patton’s constant pleading eventually broke him down. Now, much to his roommate’s delight, they spent every night in the middle of the study floor in the library, and Roman found that he actually looked forward to it. Sometimes someone he knew would walk by, and give him a valid reason to take a short break, and having other people around somehow motivated him to work harder. He was starting to understand the appeal of the place.

Now, Patton and him were spending their afternoon there between classes, both working on their own projects and sharing a bag of popcorn twists. It was the only oil soaked snack that didn’t leave much residue on their fingers. Roman was deep in thought, struggling to remember an especially flowery Shakespeare monologue for a mock audition next week, when Patton kicked his leg under the table.

“What, Pat?” He took another moment to finish the sentence before he tore his eyes away from the book, surprised at his roommate’s barely contained excitement.

“You’ve been humming for half an hour!”

He hadn’t even noticed. He tended to do it a lot without realizing; humming along to his soulmate’s music. Ever since he’d come back almost a year ago, an occurrence he’d never had explained but held onto with fondness, Roman’s heart jumped every time his music played. It was just like old times, their old system immediately reinstated, and more than once he’d found himself singing along to the melodies in his head. Patton knew this, and could probably tell by the genre whether Roman was listening to his soulmate’s songs, or just had his own earworm.

“No, no, no, I like your humming! That’s not the point!”

“Then what’s the-”

“The guy behind you has his earbuds loud enough to hear!”

Roman strained his ears, and yes, he could barely hear the music coming from behind him. He definitely hadn’t noticed before, too deep in thought to notice something so trivial. But Patton was always on high alert, never able to keep his mind on one thing at a time.

“Okay, but what does that ha-”

“You’ve been humming the same songs as he’s been listening to for half an hour, Ro! I think he’s your soulmate!”

Roman’s eyes widened and he spun around, effectively dropping his book onto the ground. Yeah, if he concentrated, he could tell that the song in his head was the same as the one just audible through the other’s earbuds.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive!”

That’s all the convincing Roman needed. He jumped to his feet and rounded the other table so he was face to face with the stranger and knocked on the table a couple times. When he made eye contact, he thought he saw fear in the other’s face, but that couldn’t be right. Roman was not intimidating. The man at the table reached up to pop out one of his earbuds.

“Hello lovely, I have a question for you,” Roman purred, dropping onto his elbows on the table.

“I- I don’t-”

Apparently that counted as a meeting, because in that moment, the music in Roman’s head faded into nothingness. And he could tell it wasn’t just the music being paused. He was left with a neutral emptiness he hadn’t felt in a long time, a silence that was rare, and an innate knowledge that it had happened: their link was no longer necessary and had dissipated. Roman grinned wide, barely concealing a squeal.

“You’re my soulmate!”

He didn’t know what reaction he was expecting, but he sure as hell hadn’t expected the man at the table to get up and sprint out of the building at full speed.

“Stay here, Ro,” Patton was suddenly at his side, laying a hand on his bicep, “I’ll go after him. I don’t know what just happened but I don’t want it to happen again.”

Patton scooped up the other man’s things from the table and jogged out the library door.

-----

Virgil didn’t know where he was going; he hadn’t planned on running out of the library. Dammit, he hadn’t planned to run into his soulmate. And he knew that was his soulmate, and not just some weird coincidence. Because the moment they’d locked eyes, it was as if something in his mind had snapped, like a rubber band that had always been there but the pressure was so constant he didn’t notice it there until it was gone. Their bond had snapped; it was no longer necessary, because he’d met his soulmate.

He recognized the guy, just barely. They were in the same first year math class, a course often taken by upperclassmen (probably like his soulmate) because they’d put off getting a math credit until their final years. Logan had warned Virgil of that when he was choosing his first year courses, and so he was safely getting it out of the way so he could focus on his major in the coming years.

His breathing was choppy and strained as he tried to calm down his panic attack, dropping onto the ground under a large tree. He couldn’t keep running lest he collapse and draw more attention to himself, and that was far worse than anything he could imagine. Fighting the urge to scratch at his skin, he buried his head in his hoodie clad arms, fumbling with one hand to free his phone from his pocket.

It’s actually a guy, it’s a guy, he’s gay, wrong wrong wrong-

No, not wrong. It’s not wrong.

Yes it is, it’s going to hurt, you’re going to hurt, wrong wrONG WRONG!

His hands were shaking far too hard to text but he tried anyways, begging Janus to come pick him up early. Logan wouldn’t be done work for another couple hours, and usually Virgil would be fine just doing homework until his dad was ready to drive them home, but he didn’t think he’d be able to handle being on campus much longer.

“Hey, kiddo?”

Virgil’s head jerked up just as he clicked send, fighting every urge in his body to bolt again. It wasn’t the guy… his soulmate… but someone else he hadn’t met before, panting.

“Heya, my name’s Patton! You ran out without your stuff, so I brought it!”

Oh, he was holding his backpack, and his folder under one arm. Virgil was just trying to encourage his legs to move, to stand so he could take his things, when the stranger dropped into the grass in front of him. He flinched.

“Here ya go,” He pushed it towards him like a child trying to coax out a scared cat, “I’m so sorry me and Ro scared you. He just gets over excited sometimes. I promise he’s actually very gentle.”

Virgil stared, pulling in a halting breath.

“The guy who ran up to you, that’s Roman. I’m his roommate, by the way. I’m Patton. Did I introduce myself? Doesn’t matter. I’m a third year psychology major. Roman’s in third year too, music and theatre major.”

He should probably introduce himself too, but his hands were frozen, clamped around his phone, and he found his voice wasn’t cooperating. That didn’t deter the other dude, though.

“Here, I wrote out both of our numbers. Roman feels super bad for scaring you, so you can take your time, if you want.” He delicately placed a ripped piece of notebook paper on the backpack between them, “His is the first one. But I put mine in there too, so you can text me if you want to talk. The more friends, the better.”

Virgil’s phone buzzed, alerting him of Janus’ response.

“I’ll let you be, okay? Remember to text!” With an exuberant wave, he dashed back to the library. Virgil read Janus’ panicked message, asking what had happened, in a bit of a daze. His dad agreed to come get him, so he stuffed the paper into his pocket and slung his backpack over his shoulder.

-----

Janus had asked him not to go into his room when he was so worked up, instead giving him free reign of the living room while the older restarted the dinner he’d abandoned in favor of picking his son up. He’d turned on the TV for Virgil, changing the channel to a nature documentary, given Virgil his favorite weighted blanket, and left him with strict orders to call him if he started spiraling or needed a hug.

The distraction had worked for a while, the soothing voice of the narrator almost lulling him to sleep, until his racing brain had come to the conclusion that this was the worst thing to ever happen in the history of ever and that he was going to die alone. He’d been a little hopeful that his soulmate would be a girl, to somewhat appease his trauma, but life was never that easy. A part of him had also been a little miffed about that hope, because as much as he liked to pretend, he had a preference for boys. A big preference. And his soulmate was cute.

“Everything okay, Virgil?” Janus called through the pass through window into the kitchen, taking his eyes off his food preparation to watch his son’s pacing.

“Yup!” He lied, picking and scratching at the skin of his hands out of his dad’s view. The pain settled him a little, giving him something he could control, but he knew he’d get a figurative slap on the wrist for it later. A concerned slap, not an angry one. Maybe more of ‘a cuddle on the couch and wrap the little patches of broken skin and an update with his counsellor’. So not really a slap. At all. As it usually went.

Everything was wrong. What kind of shit first impression had he given his soulmate? Getting up and running away like an actual child? And that was only part of it. He was damaged goods, a broken person, who needed more help and reassurance than any other person. How could he explain to his soulmate that he was the cause of his problems without making him feel guilty? That wasn’t the life the man had signed up for, wasn’t the soulmate burden he’d wanted. He would want someone easy, someone who wouldn’t have panic attacks when they got shocked by a door knob, who didn’t stop eating when they were scared, who pressed pause on life when he woke up in a dissociating headspace. He couldn’t say that to him. He’d lost everything, that vague musical connection to an invisible soulmate, that had given him a subtle hope. It had been a quiet illusion, a promise that he’d be fine if it were never fulfilled. Knowing there was someone out there, providing him music, had been enough. But now…

“Virgil, hold these for me.”

When had Logan gotten home? He put his hands out obediently, clenching the fingers over the ice cubes placed in each palm. The sensation startled him and sent a shiver up his spine.

“Four, seven, eight. Ready?”

He followed the breathing pattern eagerly, feeling the curls of anxiety in his stomach slowly settle into butterflies. When he was breathing normally, an overwhelming sense of dizziness almost knocked him over. Logan took his arm and led him to the couch.

The next moment, Janus was kneeling in front of him, rubbing disinfectant into his few bloody scratches, the melting water dripping through his fingers and onto the carpet.

“I should have noticed,” he murmured as he stuck a couple bandaids onto each hand, refusing to meet Virgil’s eyes.

“Don’t blame yourself, Janus. I don’t think it was happening for too long,” Logan assured, running a hand down Virgil’s spine. “Did this have to do with the reason you left school early today?”

Virgil nodded.

“Are you nonverbal?”

“No,” he choked, clearing his throat, “Just dry throat.”

“I got it,” Janus leapt to his feet and hurried to the kitchen.

With a heavy sigh, Virgil leaned into Logan’s side, the hand on his back traveling to wrap around his shoulder comfortingly. The last drops of the ice cube hit the carpet, and he dried his hands off on his jeans. “I met my soulmate today.”

“I see,” Logan said. For the umpteenth time, Virgil was beyond grateful that Logan was an expert at masking reactions. It made difficult conversations easier.

“It’s a guy.”

“How did that go?”

“I ran out of the library and had a panic attack. His roommate brought me my stuff and gave me their numbers. I made an idiot out of myself.”

Logan was quiet, giving Virgil a little squeeze. A water glass was pressed into his hands and Virgil downed the whole thing, passing it back to Janus, who placed it on the coffee table.

“I think… I think I’m magnifying. Maybe.” He described his thoughts that led to his spiral as quickly as possible, feeling slightly pleased when Logan agreed with his hypothesis.

“You are definitely magnifying. Good job for recognizing that, Virgil. You don’t even know him, much less what he thought of your interaction.”

“What’s our next step?” Janus spoke up, resting a hand on Virgil’s knee and rubbing it with his thumb.

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Can you sleep on it, and message him tomorrow?”

Virgil thought about for a second before shaking his head even harder, “No. I have class with him tomorrow, and we’re getting a study guide for a test. I can not miss it. But what if he comes up to me, or wants to talk, and I embarrass myself again, and-”

His dads both hushed him at the same time and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes against Logan’s side. “What do I do?”

“You could message him tonight,” Janus drawled.

“Are you crazy?” He shrieked, “No! What would I even say? ‘Hey, you freaked me out today, sorry for running like a lunatic’?!”

“Why not explain the cause for your hasty escape?” Logan piped in.

“That’s way too much to load onto him as a first conversation.”

“Not all the gory details, just a vague explanation. That’s how I started talking to Logan,” Janus stated, adjusting his position on the floor. “If he’s your soulmate, Virge, he’ll be okay to deal with this. It’ll come out eventually, and if something else happens, it will be nice for him to have some context.”

Virgil groaned. “I hate when you make sense.”

“We can help you construct an adequate message.” Logan squeezed him again, meeting Janus’ eyes with a small smile.

“Fine.” Virgil snarled, pulling out his phone and the two numbers, typing the first one into his ‘new contact’ list. “Okay, what do I say?”

-----

V: Hey, I’m Virgil. We met earlier today. In a manner of speaking.

R: OMG, hi! I’m Roman. I am SO sorry for startling you!

V: It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.

R: I still feel bad DX

“He feels bad, what do I do?!”

“I would suggest explaining the reason you ran off to ease his concerns.”

“Me too. But ask first, and don’t give more details than you’re comfortable with.”

V: Can I be brutally honest for just a second?

R: Should I be nervous? Haha go ahead!

V: I was forced into conversion therapy about a year back, and I still carry a lot of the trauma with me. That’s why I ran. It was just gut instinct.

“He’s not responding, oh god, he’s going to block me, why isn’t he responding?!”

“I assume this news would take a moment to process. Focus on your breathing, Virgil. Don’t magnify.”

“You also sent it, like, ten seconds ago.”

R: Holy shit, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.

“...That’s not what I expected.”

“This is a regular reaction from a human being with even a lick of common sense, Virgil.”

“Seconded.”

V: It’s okay, I have a really great support system now.

R: That’s good. I’ve never experienced anything like that, so I can only imagine how hard that was.

R: I don’t expect you to answer if you don’t want to or don’t know, so please don’t feel pressured, but do you know what kind of soulbond we have? Is it platonic?

“Shit, fuck, who do I answer that?”

“With the truth, I’d imagine. Do you have an answer to his question?”

“Remember what I told you, kid. Your own pace.”

“Logan, if I explain it, can you put it into words? Please?”

V: I’m not averse to a possible romantic relationship in the future, but at the moment I am still learning to become comfortable with myself, as I have negative connections to that part of my identity that can become problematic if not properly worked through at my own pace.

R: Give me a couple seconds to decode that

V: My dad wrote it, he’s a prof. I have both of them helping me not freak out right now.

R: You might want to date one day, but you need to take it slow because of your trauma.

V: Uhm… yeah. I could have said it like that.

R: Is talking to me upsetting you? We can always talk another time.

V: No, I’m okay.

R: Okay, then as far as I’m concerned, we move at your pace. That’s not an issue for me at all.

“I… oh. He’s… wow.”

“I agree with your sentiment.”

“I like this boy already.”

“DAD!”

R: Your dad’s a prof?

V: One of them is. He teaches at our school, Prof Sanders. 4th year chemistry?

R: Oh shit. I’m in his class.

V: Lol he thinks he knows you

R: You have two dads?

V: Yep

R: That’s so cool. I’d really love to meet them.

V: Wow, we met today and you’re already wanting to meet my parents?

R: Heeey, I want to meet them as a FRIEND.

V: My dad says after the semester’s over, you’re free to come by

One at a time, Virgil’s dads left him on the couch with an ear to ear grin, Janus to reheat dinner and Logan following him just so he could cling to his husband's waist as he moved around the kitchen. Neither of them wanted to disturb the little bubble their son was in.

-----

In the weeks following, they’d started to sit together in the one class they shared. Virgil had begun to join him and Patton on their nightly library study sessions, and after some more gentle convincing, had given in to sitting with their whole friend group during meals at the cafeteria. He was growing more comfortable with Roman, no doubt about that.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t fighting off an anxiety attack as he waited by the door to get picked up for their first outing alone.

He kept checking his phone and glancing out the peephole as Janus ran calming fingers through his hair. Virgil leaned into the touch instinctively, consciously slowing his breathing as Janus hummed. Logan was watching him from the entrance to the hall, leaning on the kitchen door frame. There wasn’t much he could do, but dammit if he wasn’t going to watch his son go off on the most anxiety inducing situation of all of their lives.

“You’ll be okay, kid,” Janus muttered, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “You’ve been friends with him for a while now, and he said there were no expectations. You’re in total control here.”

“What if I have a flashback, or a panic attack, or go nonverbal or something? He’s going to freak the fuck out and then all the work will be for noth-”

Logan spoke up. “You’re worried about things that may not even happen. And besides, haven’t you spoken to Roman about these things already?”

“A bit. Not in detail,” he whispered.

“I would suggest you do so, today if possible. It will make any possible situations that arise easier and less jarring to deal with.”

Virgil looked up at Janus, a pleading look in his eyes.

“He’s right, kid. The sooner you get it out of the way, the better.”

There was a knock at the door and Virgil nearly jumped out of his skin. To his disdain, Janus backed away until he was next to Logan, gesturing at the door with a small smile. Virgil growled out a curse and opened the door, the scowl on his face melting into a sickeningly authentic smile.

“How’s my favorite emo? Hi Mr. Sanders, hey Prof.”

“Hello.”

“Salutations.”

“Your favorite emo?” Virgil snarked, pulling on his jacket. It wasn’t cold, not in the slightest, but he’d rather have the extra layer.

“You’re the only emo I know, so the choice is easy.”

“By process of elimination, doesn’t that also imply I’m your least favorite emo too?”

“Don’t start this again, Mr. Son-of-a-professor.”

“I’ll start it if I want to!”

The door closed behind them with one final wave to his parents, and the house was quiet. Janus leaned into Logan’s waiting arms, resting his head on the other’s collar bone.

“He’s all grown up.”

“That he is, my love.”

-----

Virgil smirked as Roman set out a large cliche picnic blanket, gesturing for him to sit. He did, crossing his legs and leaning on his knees as the other began to unload the basket.

“Okay, so for sandwiches, I have turkey, peanut butter and jelly, and ham. Patton made me bring apple slices because he’s a dad, but I’m sure we can convince the ducks to eat them.”

To prove his point, a group of ducks paddled out from under a weeping willow half submerged in the creek.

“I like apples,” Virgil defended, grabbing a slice from the open container and shoving the whole thing in his mouth. “How many people were you intending to feed with that much food?”

Roman pouted from behind a container of potato salad. “I had to show off my food skills, duh.”

“You made that?” Virgil asked with raised eyebrows as Roman set out a tin of mini quiches and a smaller one stacked with brownies and cookies.

“The cookies were Patton’s, but he insisted I take some. And I would have bought more, but…” He tipped the basket towards Virgil, revealing the bottom absolutely filled with different canned drinks and water bottles. “I didn’t know what you wanted to drink.”

Virgil actually did laugh as he stretched forward to snag a Doctor Pepper, taking another apple slice as he sat back.

“Do you have a sandwich preference?” Roman asked, choosing a Sprite for himself.

“Turkey looks good.” Virgil said before his choice paralysis could come into play, breathing a sigh of relief as Roman handed one of the sandwiches to him. The less stress he added to his own life, the better.

Roman had been right to bring an assortment of food, because dammit, he was a really good chef. Virgil was nervous to try a quiche, since he’d never had them before and the texture was odd to him, but Roman assured that if he didn’t like it, he’d eat it instead. Apparently he wasn’t eeked out by germs. After a nibble though, Virgil ate almost half the tin. Who knew cold eggs could be good? Roman took the ham sandwich, and they split the PB&J. The ducks were more than pleased to be given Roman’s half of the apple slices but Virgil refused to share, since fresh fruits were still a treat after a life of preserves. The younger wasn’t a huge fan of the potato salad, so Roman eagerly finished it, seemingly more excited to move onto the desserts but not wanting to leave any leftovers.

They were just finishing up the frankly absurd amount of cookies and brownies when Roman broke their casual bickering, chasing a chocolate chip bite with a long swig of Sprite and tossing another apple to their swarm of awaiting ducks.

“So, tell me a bit about yourself, Virge.”

“What do you want to know?” Virgil replied, leaning back on his hands.

“Anything, really. Childhood, siblings, favorite color, darkest fear.”

“Quite a spectrum, there.” There was a lot he could talk about, but he felt it might be better to get the bigger things out of the way. Janus was sort of the leading expert on this kind of thing, so his advice had probably been sound. He brushed his hands together to get the crumbs off them as he spoke, “Okay, so I grew up in the foster system.”

Roman tried to hide his wince. “Ouch. I’ve heard a lot of bad things.”

“It’s fucked,” Virgil drawled, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn, “I spent most of my time in a group home, though, because I was called ‘difficult’. No one wanted to deal with my ass.”

“Why?”

“Mmm, ran away, didn’t listen, talked back, antagonized any biological kids.”

“So like, a normal teenager?” The last apple slice was sacrificed to the feathered hoard.

Virgil snorted, “Yeah, but I came with a receipt. And I kind of liked the group home more.”

“How many kids were in the home?”

“Never more than fifteen. It was a big home. But they circulated, and I was like a housecat. Never gone for more than a month.”

“Jeez,” Roman sighed, taking a sip of his soda.

“My foster homes weren’t better.”

“Oh?” It was a subtle encouragement to keep talking, but now it was getting into territory that Virgil liked to avoid.

“One of my foster houses was really neglectful, forgot to give us food, didn’t let us do laundry, that kind of stuff. Gave me a wicked ED. I was twelve.”

Roman grimaced.

“My next one was more emotionally and mentally manipulative. I was kind of made into a babysitter for their younger bio kids. I had to get them ready for school, make them dinner, just basically be a parent. After I ran away from them, they started having trouble placing me. I was older, had a shitty record, kind of a left over. I mean, I deserved it. I was a dick.”

“You were a kid, Virgil.”

“A kid who chose to make his own life harder.” He shrugged, “That’s why I was placed into… that home. They were a last resort place for other ‘trouble kids’.”

Virgil took a deep breath and, with Janus’ words in his mind, began to explain his attempted conversion; the slip of tongue that led to the placement, the verbal abuse, food deprivation, electroshock therapy, the snuck antipsychotics, forced isolation, ending with the day the wife had called the police behind her husband’s back out of guilt and he was rescued.

Roman was quiet for a long minute after he finished talking, staring entranced at the can in his hands. The ducks had dispersed during Virgil’s story, upset at the lack of food.

“I…”

Virgil waited for him to get up and leave, to say with false apologies that he didn’t think they would work out, that the connection was wrong. Because who would want to deal with him, his stupid trauma? But the man next to him didn’t move except to breathe, and Virgil took that as an invitation to continue, his tone quieter.

“I was super out of it for a while. Honestly, I don’t remember the rescue, or like a solid month after that, except for snippets here and there. The drugs were fucky. And then my social worker, god bless her heart, found Janus and Logan. Janus was in CT too for a while when he was younger, so they took me in. Took a long time, but I opened up to them, but by then I was eighteen. They still insisted on adopting me, though, and there’s absolutely no convincing Logan once he’s made his mind up, so… they did.” He waved his hands around a little.

“Three months,” Roman blurted out of nowhere, making Virgil flinch.

“What?”

“Were you in ther-... CT for three months?”

“Two and a bit, why?” The moment it was out of his mouth, he realized the implications, and his heart froze.

“You were gone for three months. I thought you died, or… I don’t even know.” Roman looked like he was about to cry, watching Virgil imploringly. Him going MIA must have affected his soulmate more than he’d thought.

“Two months of CT, and then another one before I got a new phone. I’m…” All the guilt he’d felt at the time came rushing back, the reminder of his soulmate’s music dwindling to almost nothing and him being helpless, “I’m sorry. Shit, I’m so sorry. That must have been…”

“No, Virgil, you don’t get to apologize. That was not your fault.” He reached out a hand as if to grab Virgil’s and immediately pulled back, wringing his fingers instead. “Sorry, my choice of comforting is physical. But I won’t.”

“Thank you,” Virgil choked out, running his hands through his hair.

“Can you look at me?”

He did, taking a shuddering breath. He was moments away from a panic attack and he was not looking forward to that disaster.

“You were being- quite literally- tortured for months. You were abused in ways that shouldn’t be legal, and you came out the other side stronger. Frankly, I’m amazed at your perseverance. You’re amazing.”

Simultaneously, Virgil felt a hot blush rise to his ears, and a sharp jolt run through his arms into his chest. He jerked violently, tipping over his own soda onto the grass.

“Shit, did I say something wrong?” Roman gasped, reaching over to pluck up the can before it could spill more. It was already half empty, thank goodness.

“No, I just… do that. Sometimes. From… CT. Kind of like ghost shocks, I guess.” Why couldn’t the ground just open up and swallow him whole, he wondered. He hadn’t done that jerk thing in front of anyone in so long. The last time had been in front of his now-parents, and they’d quickly grown used to it. He’d grown used to their own contact very soon and his twitches had stopped after he was accustomed to it, but it had never been directed towards him, and he had a feeling he’d need time to stop his impulse reactions.

“And me calling you amazing…”

“Triggered them. It’s an exposure thing though, so I’ll just need to get used to it. Don’t blame yourself.” He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes until bright white flashes of light burst into his vision. Suddenly, he was exhausted.

“Do you want me to drive you home?” Roman asked, already packing up their picnic basket. Virgil nodded, his social meter drained, and all ability to be a civil person was quickly deteriorating. His therapist said that would also begin to heal after a while.

Roman was an absolute angel though, letting the silence linger so Virgil could cradle his slowly growing headache, even opening the door of his car like a perfect gentleman. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Virgil rested his head against the seat and let a tiny smile tug at his lips. It would be a long process to retrain his brain (in theory, he was okay with being in a relationship with a man, but actually doing it? Infinitely harder), but for once, he was actually looking forward to the process.

Would you guys like a collection of one shots surrounding Virgil’s gradual warming up to his new family, a decent mix of angst and fluff? I have some ideas.

Thanks for reading! Now, a taglist.

@sapphic-satan

@anxious-logic

@wigsnatchedhoteltrivago

@extraintrovertedalien

@punk-academian-witch

@ray-does-stuff

@chimneychimney

@i-cant-find-a-good-username

@falsemood

@wtf-casper

@cpmansion

@killjoyjay

@fandomfan315

@anxious-darkwolf

@eternalmoonlight19

@winterwynd

@espepspes

@ironwoman359

@willowaudreykeyes

@mycatshuman

@weweregoddesses

@im-an-anxious-wreck

@imknittingahat

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@quartz-z

@mikalya12

@koalas-in-coffee

@isabelle-stars

@a-ghostlight-for-roman

@existentialeggdogg

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@wyvern-tales

@heyhalloween

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@bullet-tothefeels

@mostlikelytokillyouwithaspoon

@lovelivingmydreams

@sarcasmremovedsoul

@crofterskinnie

@blissbiscuit

@baka-monarch

@lostspacecat

@green-call

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #loceit #logan sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #sanderssides #sanderssidesau #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanders sides #sanders sides au #sanders sides fanfiction #ts soulmate au

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actual-fucking-clown · 3 years

Text

Take your time then.

Aizawa x gender neutral reader

Story under the cut :)

Unedited but like edited but still not properly edited :)

Hope you enjoy!!!

a/n: it’s been a hot min since I’ve written a fic. I think the last time i was 14 and it was shit and on wattpad. Ha. I hate myself. N e way, I was recently writing some shit for an au me and my friend thought up and in the back of my mind I was like, “you should start writing fics again bc this is kinda fun”, soo lo and behold I made a post asking if anyone would be interested, shared a little too much personal shit in it but whatever, and have now decided to write this mother fucker. (3/25/21)

a/n: not sure if anyone will care about this series of a/n’s but I’m just chronicling thoughts ig. rewriting rn bc my first draft was short and ass. Also I’m thinking about opening requests after this is posted, will go into detail in a diff post maybe. (3/28/21)

a/n: deleted everything, rewriting. I just want to make something that might be decent and if I can give that feeling, y’know those chills you get when you read something utterly gorgeous, but I’m bad at writing. sadge (3/28/21, like several hours later)

a/n: ugh (4/1/21)

a/n: ugh pt 2 electric boogaloo. I can’t seem to move forward with the writing. I realized something like this might happen bc to solve a problem feelings need to be discussed and I fucking hate doing that so you can see where I’m fucking up lmaooooo (4/2/21)

a/n: I read angst to fuel my writing brain. So, read some angst, finally writing agian. This first section is probs as long as the story itself LMFAO(4/5/21)

Started: (3/25/21) Finished: (4/5/21)

Warnings: uh angst, curse words, like a lot, (i saw someone else put this as a warning, do I actually need it?), avoiding problems instead of actually facing them, mentions of shit so-so parenting, mentions of not being able to live up to high expectations, y’know, the works

Synopsis: Aizawa takes in Eri without running it by you first and expects you to be okay with it. That’s funny. He was wrong.

Can I preface this with a thought? I’m going to anyway,

all the fics I read paint him as the sweetest partner and I’m sure he is but I think they miss out on how blunt he is and his whole “Mr. Rationality” thing. So as much as I adore him I think there are situations that he’d be a bit more colder towards, a bit more straightforward about. Maybe even like a bit insensitive about but maybe bc he doesn’t have the full picture or something. so I guess this is another warning but aizawa is a little insensitive in the beginning (but like not really but kinda. it’s complicated)

Rain pattered softly against the window. The smell of some old random Bath and Bodyworks candle you’d dug out from a box you’d never bothered to unpack smothered the room. Some Netflix show idly played on a low volume on your computer, you’d lost interest in watching tv awhile ago. You needed a break. After the eventful month you’d been having you really needed this.

Now of course your whole year so far had been eventful. What with all the villain attacks on you and Shouta’s class and the kidnapping of one of your students, to just dealing with the more mundane problems with your students. No. You had no problem with that. The villains, although not easy, were something you were trained to handle. The smaller problems with your students weren’t arduous either, after all you weren’t too much older than them.

When reflecting on your situation, from and outside perspective it could be seen as the straw the broke the camels back, which sure, makes sense. After all, you’re bound to be stressed out by everything else, so why would this seemingly insignificant thing weigh heavier than a villain attack? Well if that is the situation why does this single straw feel like it weighs a ton? This is not that. This is not culmination of the events of this year draining the life from you. This is something entirely different. A panic inducing life change that completely took you by surprise mixed with your inability to actually face your problems.

You don’t blame them. You can’t. They’ve done nothing wrong. A child. A small, probably mentally scarred child is your problem. Well not her personally but the fear taking care of her instills in you. Despite working in the field that you do, you cannot for the life of you handle actual children. Sure you’re a little awkward with your class but at least they’re young adults and (vaguely) mature and independent to a certain extent. The fact that your long term boyfriend just came back one day, small child in tow and said “Hey I’ve gotta look after this one now” not verbatim obviously, for a lack of better words, fucked you up. He basically solo adopted a kid and, let’s be honest, he probably expected you to help out. But how could you? How could this man look at you and think “I want this person to help me raise an already fucked up child?” Ok sure, he doesn’t at first give off the “I’m totally father figure material” vibe but in the end he is extremely competent. You on the other hand, not so much.

You’d never been good with children. Tried your best to steer clear of them. Didn’t matter the place, didn’t matter who’s kid, you couldn’t handle them. You would just stand there, awkwardly, not entirely sure of what to do and petrified that there was the possibility of making some mistake which would upset the child and then oh wow look, your head got chopped right of your shoulders. That’s hyperbole of course but it does sum up the insurmountable fear that overcomes you whenever you have to deal with a child. So considering the fact that your long term boyfriend had suddenly decided to adopt and not at least warn you, didn’t sit right with you.

So, the best and most obvious choice, was to avoid your problem. Avoid Shouta, avoid Eri. Avoid the mention of them and you, avoid it all. And honestly you’d done pretty well so far. You were able to have as little contact with them as possible considering the close proximity of your living quarters in the teacher’s dorms. After all they were legally supposed to give you two separate rooms but you never actually used yours, well until now. You were living it up honestly. Did you feel awful? Of course. He is your boyfriend after all and you were sure Eri doesn’t deserve your cold shoulder but this is probably for the best. What could you offer her? You weren’t sure that you were a good role model for her or anyone for that matter. What did you know about raising kids? it’s not like you had parents to set a proper example for you. Of course they might have shown you what not to do but where do you go from there? Is shit like that really avoidable? You don’t want to be like them. You strive to be better but what if you can’t be. There’s also the added bonus of the fact that raising a kid seems taxing on a relationship. Now matter how strong you were sure that the stress of a kid could break a relationship down that then festers into something toxic and unrecognizable. You didn’t want that. God you couldn’t let that happen. No. This was definitely for the better.

Of course Aizawa didn’t feel the same. He was confused on why his partner had been so blatantly avoiding him. Did he do something wrong? He doesn’t remember doing anything that might’ve upset you. So why now? Why pull away now? He had to get down to the bottom of this but catching you was the hard part. You had been taking on more work, offering more assistance to the other teachers, picking up extra patrols, doing everything and anything to stay away from Shouta. It took him a month but he finally caught up to you. You were tired, worn out he knew that. Instead of loading yourself with work you’d decided to hole yourself up in your room. It was now or never.

You were pulled out of your peace at the sound of a few gentle knocks to your door. You really didn’t want to get it. You honestly couldn’t be bothered.

“(N/n)? Are you in there?” He hadn’t gotten it wrong right? He hadn’t been too distracted earlier and missed you leaving right?

“What’s up?” You hummed from your place by the window, not bothering to actually open the door.

“Can I come in?” Shouta asked, voice soft. You could barely hear him above the patter of the rain and the low humming of your laptop.

“Uh, no, kinda busy. Got loads of work to do. Need to focus, sorry. Maybe later?” You hesitantly spoke. Not sure if you were convincing enough.

Apparently you weren’t.

He sighed. “It’s been “later” for an entire month. Please (Y/n) just let me in. Whatever this is we can talk it out.” You had predicted that eventually Shouta would start to try to crack down on whatever the issue was but you didn’t expect it so soon.

“Uh...no?” You tried, hoping that maybe he’d just give up but that wasn’t Shouta.

“No, you don’t get that option, now please, open the door.” Although it was still soft his voice had taken a more stern tone.

“Oh no I’m dead. I guess I can’t open the door. What a shame. I guess the only way to talk with me now is in the pits of hell.” You quipped, trying to lessen the tension that already ran thick.

“(Y/n).” Aizawa sighed.

“Jeez fine. Talk about pushy.” You quipped once more to no avail.

Opening the door you were met with, well exactly what you expected. He stood there, arms crossed, a stern yet gentle look in his eyes, his lips pulled into a slight frown.

“Come in.” You mumbled as you stepped further into your room.

“So tell me. What’s wrong?” The sentence stirred so much. Of course you wanted to tell him. You wanted to spill your guts to the man you loved in hopes of comfort but you just can’t. You know you’ll just scare him off. You know you’ll make things worse.

So you stay silent.

He says nothing as he grabs your hands gently and leads you over to your bed. He sits the two of you down on the edge, muting the movie on the laptop sitting behind him.

“You know you can tell me if something’s bothering you right?” Shouta sent you a warm smile.

You weren’t very comfortable with discussing your feelings sometimes, it mostly stemmed from the fact that you never really could discuss them with anyone growing up which made it harder to confide in anyone now, as at this point bottling things up was a habit. But this was also just something that you were sure that you couldn’t talk about.

Silence answered him once again.

Now he took sometime to think about his approach, think about what could’ve happened that made you pull away. What did he do that was different from his norm? He was genuinely stumped and the fact that you weren’t helping him confused him even more.

You decided to take this time to lament the situation too. What was he going to do? Should you actually tell him or play it off? If you play it off will he still insist that something is wrong? If you tell him will he leave you? If you don’t tell him will he leave you? You risked a glance at him, he was still deep in thought.

Why did you have to adopt this fucking kid without at least warning me?

“What?” Your head shot up at the sound of his shocked voice.

“What?” You asked, genuinely confused.

“Eri’s the problem...?” He spoke slowly, not entirely sure if he’d heard you right.

“Did I say that out loud?” You squeaked.

“I’m pretty sure you mumbled something along the lines of “why’d you have to adopt that fucking kid”.” Shouta said, unsure if he’d heard wrong. Wanting to have heard wrong.

“No no no no no no! It’s not like that! I mean it is like that but not like that!” You frantically waved your hands in hopes of defusing the situation.

The way he looked at you made you want to cry. You felt horrible. You felt like the biggest asshole in the world and, at this point you probably were. He looked at you with such a look of heartbreak and disappointment and confusion it made you sick to your stomach. You felt light-headed and started shaking. You were right. You were right. You were always right. God why did you have to be right! Why did you have to be like this? Scared of raising a fucking child! It was asinine and irrational and you could probably move past it but thanks to your stupid fucking brain you just sealed your fate.

You scooted away from him still waving your hands frantically as no’s tumbled endlessly from your lips. You tried sputtering an apology, anything so that he wouldn’t look at you like that but nothing stuck. Nothing was comprehensible. Nothing worked. Nothing would work. Nothing will work. You were hopeless. It was hopeless.

“If it isn’t like how it seems then tell it to me straight.” Shouta finally spoke up.

You took a second to come down from your panic. You steeled your nerves as much as possible before you spoke.

“Um well, I have nothing against her it’s just that a little heads up would’ve been nice? I’m not all that great with kids so this is just kind of weird is all.” You were purposefully being vague in hopes that he’d understand what you meant and also maybe drop it.

“Not great with kids? You’re literally a teacher.” He pointed out.

“Yeah you know but she’s like a kid kid and let’s be honest I’m not too great with the students either.” You awkward laughed. So he wasn’t getting it.

“Wha-you’re fine with the students and I’m sure you’ll be fine with Eri, there was no reason to avoid me over this.” Shouta sighed. As good as he was with dealing with people, he was equally as shit. Or maybe it was just the fact that you gave him very little to work with. It was probably a bit of both. Still his dismissiveness was not helping you right now.

“No, no, no, no. I think I’ll stay here. Uh, good luck with your parenthood escapades and sorry to leave you high and dry like this but that’s going to have to be a no from me.” You rambled. He seemed to be getting a little tired of this.

“(Y/n) stop being irrational. She’s not even our kid I’m just looking after her for now. Why are you being difficult? I told you you were fine with the students and you’ll be fine with Eri, what else do you want to hear?” Shouta grumbled.

“Well uh I don’t know, uh...” You trailed off, this seemed to be going in a direction you really didn’t want it to go. A slight hostility settling in the air.

At your lack of a proper answer he clicked his tongue. He took a moment to reassess the situation. There had to be something he was missing. After all you were getting really worked up but if you weren’t going to talk to him there was nothing he could do. He shook his head before running a frustrated hand through his hair.

“(Y/n), please, please, just be honest with me. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, you can tell me. But I won’t be able to understand if you don’t.” Aizawa sighed, deciding that getting worked up about this was not the way to go, especially when you seemed to be especially distraught.

“Uh, god the thing is I don’t know entirely what to say to put the shitshow in my head into perspective.” You mumbled, trying desperately to figure out what to say that could clear the air but nothing seemed to be coherent enough.

“Take your time.” He decided that this was the best approach to things, making sure neither party got too worked up lest this turn into a fight.

The rain continued to patter softly against the window and your candle continued to burn an slightly off floral-ish scent. A deafening silence hung in the air because even though he was being as patient as possible some of his frustration leaked through, it was bound to though so you couldn’t exactly blame him. After all, you were probably equally as frustrated with yourself too.

“I’m just not good in a position like this. I’m not good with kids, especially someone like Eri who’s already so broken. You have that nurturing nature, it comes natural to you but I’m not on that level. I don’t know the first thing about caring for a child let alone one as already traumatized as her. I’d fuck it up and only make things worse. I don’t want you to reassure me that I’ll be okay with her, I want you to understand that I’m not comfortable with this and that it might take me awhile to come around. I’m sure I sound like the biggest asshole ever but please understand that this just isn’t something I’m ready for.” You had rambled a bit, you were aware of that, but it was the only way that you could properly express your feelings without making things too complicated.

Aizawa said nothing. Trying to figure out how to go about things.

Was he upset? Yeah, you two, even after several long years of being together, hadn’t discussed moving forward in your relationship in depth. And if he’d tried you seemed content with the point you two were at so he left it be, no reason to try and move forward when what you had was already fine the way it was. But recently he’d been craving more. Some mornings, when he’d be the first to wake, he’d study your features in the soft light of the sunrise and wonder what it’d be like to properly settle down with you. Get married, start a family, all that jazz. He’d taken in Eri only because it was the most rational decision. His quirk would be good for quelling hers had it ever gotten out of hand. But it also seemed to quell his musings of something more with you. He had imagined you being a good parental figure for the little girl and it made his heart flutter and his stomach explode with butterflies. But now seeing that that wasn’t what you wanted and how you weren’t ready for it, it stung. But in the end, he loved you. He’d easily give his life for you. So, if that meant waiting he’d wait. He’d wait a million years if he had to. He could do it.

Once again he spoke,

“Take your time then. I can wait.”

Tagslist?: @captainchrisstan (I think you said you wanted to be tagged but I’m also just small brained lol If u didn’t want to and I misinterpreted things just let me know :) )

#bnha x reader #mha xreader #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa #my first fic #mha #bnha

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xxcyj · 3 years

Text

Comfort 2.0

Comfort pt 2 is finally here! I hope you guys like it. Honestly this was kinda hard for me to write lol Anyway requests are open so feel free to request anything~ Masterlist << right here

Part 1

Genre: Fluff Word count: 2.7k Summary: Confession time

The sun rise was truly beautiful, you wondered why you never watched it before. You made a mental note to watch it another time. Maybe after a full night’s rest? This was your first time watching the sun rise and it was all Choi Yeonjun’s fault. You were tossing and turning the entire night and barely slept a wink of sleep; finally giving up at 5 am and just sitting at your desk and busied yourself by browsing the net.

It had been like this recently as Yeonjun seemed to occupy your mind. Absolutely making it hard for you to concentrate during your classes and assessments. You were praying to any gods out there that this torture would end before your exams started. Studying was already difficult as it was.

Your thoughts were interrupted with a good morning text from yours truly, Yeonjun. In the past, you never really thought much of it. Yeonjun and you would just text each other good morning to annoy each other to see who was awake first or to remind the other person that it was the morning if they had been pulling an all nighter.

Good morning munchkin~

Normally, you didn’t pay mind to whatever cute and cheesy nickname Yeonjun had thought of that morning as he only used them because he was a major flirt. However, this morning, you found your heart skip a beat and flutter. You tried your best to shrug it off and rolled your eyes while writing your reply.

‘Morning junnie

You set your phone down only to hear a familiar ping go off as you were about to roll back into bed.

We’re gonna be in the recording studio today~ wanna come?

A blush spread onto your cheeks as you read the invitation. It really wasn’t a big deal, Yeonjun often invited you to their recording sessions as you found the whole process fascinating. So why were you blushing a like a fool as you stared at the message on the screen. You found that your thumbs hovered over the keyboard as you hesitated answering the question.

Yeah sure, when?

Good enough. Yup.

12! We can hang out before my session [ attached selfie ] See you there munchkin!!

Dammit. He just had to add that selfie. It was a little obvious he had just woken up as his face was still swollen and his hair was a mess, poking out in multiple directions. However, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking how incredibly handsome he looked. There goes your heart again, skipping another beat like it’s playing jump rope or something. Placing your phone on your desk, you walked over to your bed before burying your face into your pillow.

“Why did my feelings decide it was a good idea to catch feelings for my best friend” You muttered into the pillow as you let out a frustrated scream before turning around to look at your phone that rested on your desk.

It had been about two weeks since that walk to the bus stop. And you had been acting like a fool in those two weeks, getting flustered easily while trying your best to seem like everything was normal. You had talked to some of your friends about it and they all suggested to confess along with saying that it was time you finally realised you had feelings for him.

The thought of confessing did occur to your but you backed out and just planned on letting the crush fade. You didn’t want to ruin your friendship with Yeonjun, the thought of everything going down the drain because of a simple confession made your insides churn. Not that Yeonjun would be a jerk about it but you knew it would probably make everything awkward. You knew Yeonjun and knew that he would try his best to let you down easy and pretend nothing happened but that would just make everything worse.

Your thoughts swirled into a mush as your eyes finally felt droopy as you were thankful for finally being able to sleep.

You opened your eyes to the sound of your ringtone. What? Still a little froggy, you walk over to your phone and answer without looking at the caller ID.

“Y/N? Are you still coming?” Yeonjun’s voice startled you as you take the phone from your ear and check the time. 12:25.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I fell asleep.” You reply back put your phone on speaker and start scurrying off to the bathroom to get ready.

“It’s alright. Taehyun’s in the recording booth first so I’ve got sometime to kill. Wanna get some food?” You tried your best to listen to him but the running water drowned out most of what he was saying.

“Ummm yea sounds good! Text me the details.” You call out as you finish washing your face and start brushing your teeth. Hurriedly, you finished brushing your teeth and wiped your face with the towel from the rack. “I haven’t had breakfast.”

“Perfect! Ok, I’ll text you the address of the cafe. How long do you think you’ll be?” He asked, you stood there not having single idea. Usually in situations like this you would just throw on a pair of leggings and a hoodie with a bare face before calling it a day and leaving.

But here you stood in front of the mirror suddenly feeling a little self conscious.

“Y/N?”

“Oh, give me twenty minutes! I’m so sorry!” You profusely apologised as he just chuckled and assured you it was fine.

“Alright see you soon Y/N” Yeonjun said before ending the call. You quickly rushed over to your closet and examined it before nodding to a skirt and a long sleeve shirt. As for makeup, you didn’t have much time so you only put on bb cream, eye shadow, lip stick and brows. Looking at yourself one last time in the mirror, you decided to just leave your hair down before calling for a taxi.

Yeonjun sat at the corner of the cafe dressed in a grey shirt with a green flannel and a pair of black jeans. Although he was wearing a mask, you could tell it was him by the hat you had bought him a few months back. Subconsciously, you fixed your hair before walking up to the table where he sat.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late. I’ll buy your drink to make it up to you.” You said, catching his attention. He looked up at you, even with his mask you could tell he was smiling by his eyes.

“It’s alright but we should get the drinks to go and just have them at the studio.” Yeonjun said as you both walked to the counter.

“I’ll have a caramel macchiato and a salmon beagle please.” You spoke to the cashier before asking Yeonjun what he wanted.

“I’ll just have an iced americano please” Yeonjun answered before taking out his card to hand to the cashier.

“Wait no, sorry I’ll be paying.” You interrupted and pulled out your card. However, Yeonjun just shook his head and pushed your hand out of the way before giving his card to the cashier and typing his pin on the machine.

As you both walked off to the side to wait, you stared at him until he finally looked at you.

“What?” He said leaning in and lightly tapping your forehead. “You didn’t think I was gonna make you pay did you?”

“Yeonjun, I said I was gonna pay for you to make up for me being late.” You pouted and put your hands on your hips. Instead of intimidating him, this only made him chuckle and ruffle your hair, making your heart beat faster. Please don’t be blushing, you chanted in your head.

“It’s ok, you can make it up by buying dinner tonight.” Yeonjun cheerfully said.

“Actually, I can’t have dinner with you tonight. I have plans.” You reply as you thought about school. You had a group project due at midnight and still had a little bit to do until you were finished. Yeah, you had to admit you were a little slack on this group project and honestly you didn’t have a good enough excuse. It’s ok though, you were all getting graded individually so your group mates’ marks won’t suffer due to your poor time management. “But next time for sure.”

He gave you a strange look and just as Yeonjun was about to speak, your orders were called up. You both collected your items and started to head towards the Big Hit building. The two of you walked in silence as you munched on your beagle. You stole glances here and there at the man walking beside you.

“What is it?” Yeonjun finally asked as you reached the building and made your way up to the studio. He finally took his mask off and sighed before putting the mask into his bag. A little flustered by his question and not wanting to say it was because he looked handsome even with a mask on, you thought for a second before giving him an uneasy smile.

“Just feel bad about being late and having you pay for my things you know.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He replies back with a smile before leading the way into the studio. You politely said hello to the producers and sound engineers before sitting on the couch. Taehyun was just wrapping up for today’s recording as you gave him a little wave.

“What are you doing tonight anyway?” Yeonjun asked as he skimmed past his lines. Not wanting him to scold you for your academic habits, you avoided his eyes as you answered. “Oh, just you know, meeting up with a friend.”

Yeonjun looked at you and seemed to be biting back a reply as he left to go into the recording booth. Taehyun said a polite hello and goodbye as he left to go off to the practice room. You sat on the couch sipping on your drink as you watched Yeonjun do some sound checks.

You couldn’t help but admire how passionate he looked when he was recording. The way he would carefully listen to the producers feedback and write little notes on his lyric sheet. The way he would smile and cheer a little when he got something right. Everything about him looked so admirable, making you realise you how much you respected him and his dedication to his dream.

Your phone vibrated on the table and you were quick to check it as to not disturb anything. The caller ID read your groupmate’s name making you let out a silent curse before excusing yourself from the room.

“Hey what’s up?” You tried your best to answer.

“Y/N are you finished?” She sounded a little impatient through the phone, making you feel even more guilty.

“Almost. Just the final finishing touches. I’ll have to done by tonight, don’t worry.” You tried to reassure her.

“Ok, but I need it by 9 so I can check it before I send the manuscript for the presentation to the professor.”

“Yup. You bet, it’ll be sent by 9.” You replied back before you heard her sigh and hang up. You let out a sigh of relief before entering the room again. Your eyes met Yeonjun’s as he raised a brow at you as if to ask what you were up to. You gestured to you phone and just gave him a thumbs up with a smile before continuing to listen to him record again.

“Who were you on the phone with?” Yeonjun asked as he exited the recording booth. Not wanting him to find out it was your group mate as he would surely ask what it was about, you just replied with “Oh, just my friend.”

The two of you were walking along the hallway when you took a peak at the clock, reading 3:45. Shoot. You really didn’t have time to hang out with Yeonjun any longer, your presentation was begging you to finish it.

“The same friend you’re having dinner with tonight?” You stared at him as his voice sounded with something that you couldn’t pin point. He stared back at you as well as he leaned against the wall.

“Uh, yes. Actually I have to go right now, I promised them I’d get there around 5.” You gave him a sheepish smile and was about to press the button for the elevator and wave goodbye when he spoke up.

“Are you going on a date?” The question flustered you.

“What? What makes you say that?” You asked as you stood there trying to read his face.

“Well, you’re all dressed up with makeup and everything. And you’re leaving so early.” He walked closer to you and suddenly you were very aware of how small you were compared to him.

“Am I not allowed to dress nicely? I just wanted to look good today.” You simply stated feeling your heart pounding in your chest as you crossed your arms across your chest.

“Sure sounds like you’re trying to impress someone, that could only indicate a date. You never dress this nicely just to meet up with a ‘friend’” A rush of confidence hit you as he spoke. Something about him staring at you with heat woke something in you.

“So what if I was going on a date? Anyway, look it’s not a date ok?” You challenged as you carefully watched his expression. You waited for an answer but nothing came, it was as if he was trying to find a response. “Yeonjun, I really need to go.”

“Then why is your outfit so cute and your makeup so good? You never try to dress up when you’re with me.” He finally replied, sounding a little...disappointed? His lips were slightly pouted and you didn’t know if you were seeing things but was that wistfulness in his eyes?

You looked down and played with the hem of your skirt before meeting his eyes once again. Seeing him like this made your heart ache slightly. Letting out a sigh, you mentally shook yourself. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t just let this crush fade.

“Yeonjun, the only reason I dressed up today was because I was coming to see you. I’m not meeting up with a friend at all, I’m leaving early to finish up some school work.” He looked a little surprise by your answer.

“Dressed up for me? But why?” You found it adorable watching him look like the confused pikachu meme.

“Yes you. I-” Here it goes. Now or never. “I like you.” You turn around and quickly hit the elevator button, thanking the gods out there when it opened. “I need to go.” And with that you hopped in the elevator button, regretting setting in rather quickly.

You had ruined it. You just ruined your friendship with him. Great. Wonderful. You were too deep in thought that you realised that the elevator hadn’t moved. Dammit you forgot to press the button for Ground floor. Looking up, you noticed Yeonjun’s body at the door frame of the elevator thus preventing the doors to close.

As you were about to ask him what the hell he was doing, he stepped forward to cup your face and let his lips meet yours as your eyes widen in shock before closing as you melted into the kiss. The kiss was the type to make your knees feel like jelly as it was deep and almost hungry. Just as you thought he was about to pull away, he held you closer as he slightly bit onto your bottom lip before sucking on it. Your mouth opens a little to gasp as his tongue made its way into your mouth making you stumble back a little. Your hand held onto his shoulders in order to stand up as you felt your legs wobbly a little. His kisses began to trail on your neck before they made their way to your ear. He nibbled on them a little before he stopped, his ragged breath sending shivers through out your body.

“Good, because I like you as well.” He whispered into you ear before pulling away. Your eyes met you and you watched him smile as he kissed your lips once again, this time it felt soft and innocent. As he pulled away, a shy smile graced your face as he stared at you with such adoration.

“You’re so cute.”

#txt #txt yeonjun #txt fluff #yeonjun fluff #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun x you #yeonjun x y/n #txt x you #txt x y/n #txt x moa #choi yeonjun #yeonjun #yeonjun drabbles #txt drabbles

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honeymooneyy · 3 years

Text

Hii, I just wanted to say that I'm in love with your writing and what you have done so far <3 and I was wondering if you could do a pt 2 on missed you :).

Take care,

- m.i

omg thank you!! here you go!!! i hope you enjoy <3

Missed You - part two

Remus wasn’t the type to spend an excessive amount of money on beauty products - or really anything to spoil himself.

But at the sight of Sirius’ hair, he couldn’t help but buy the most expensive shampoo and conditioner the store had. He also bought an assortment of other snacks, including Sirius' favorite crisps and candies.

Remus didn't think they gave him many fun snacks in Azkaban.

Even though he wanted to dote on him and make up for the abuse he put up with for twelve years, he knew it wouldn't make a difference. He wasn't even sure if he'd eat the crisps seeing as he was more often a dog than not. Remus suspected it was some sort of coping mechanism.

But either way, he took those baby steps with Sirius. Even if it meant watching the telly with Padfoot curled up on the other side of the couch - all that mattered was that they had each other for company. And it seemed to be making a difference.

The other day, Remus caught Sirius humming along to a vinyl playing and it warmed his heart. In another lifetime they'd be singing along together as they cleaned the house for a dinner party for their friends, and the fact that it could never happen hurt Remus beyond belief. But he had Sirius.

Thankfully, Dumbledore hadn't roped them into another mission for the Order, so the two had time to readjust to their old lives. Everything felt so painstakingly familiar.

Remus noticed the small things, the way they both took the same sides of the couch as they once did, similar to their seats at the kitchen table. Remus was still the one to cook while Sirius set the table, and while Sirius didn't come up behind him to distract him with kisses, it felt comfortingly familiar.

They still had yet to bring up their old relationship and it was killing Remus. He knew they couldn't go back to "normal", but he longed to have some sort of closeness with Sirius. He missed their mindless touches while watching the telly, feet thrown on the other's lap, or even just sitting close enough their shoulders brushed. He missed hooking their ankles together whilst eating dinner. He missed holding him while they slept. Remus missed the side of Sirius only he got to witness.

One Friday night, when Remus was almost certain Sirius had gone to sleep, he let himself pull out a bottle of firewhiskey. He had just opened it up when Sirius' bedroom door cracked open and he emerged. He had spent the day as Padfoot, but now he was back to himself.

"Thought you were asleep," Remus mumbled, feeling much like a kid who got caught drinking. He had to remind himself that he was an adult and it was his flat and he could drink whenever he'd like.

Sirius just shrugged, "I was gonna lie down but I'm not tired. I haven't talked to you in a bit."

Remus nodded, holding out a glass which Sirius accepted. Remus tipped his head back, finishing off what was left in his shot glass. When he straightened, he realized Sirius had been staring, his eyes flickering to Remus' lips and then back to his own glass. Remus' stomach flipped at the intensity of his stare and mirrored him, instead studying his glass.

"I haven't drank in so long," Sirius mused, studying the small glass intently. "How much you wanna bet I'm a lightweight now."

"Let's see," Remus grinned and it only widened when Sirius matched it. He held out his glass and Sirius clinked his own before downing it.

One turned into two turned into four and Sirius was definitely a lightweight.

Remus wasn't hundred percent sure how much the two of them had drank but it was definitely too much. The drinks had loosened Sirius up and he was actually laughing along with Remus and humming along to the vinyl Remus had put on.

"I can't believe Snivellus is a teacher at Hogwarts," Sirius snorted, shaking his head. "Dumbledore is crazy."

"Dumbledore doesn't think of anyone but himself," Remus rolled his eyes. "Did he really think we'd be able to get along as colleagues?"

"Did you?"

"Merlin, no. He made my students write essays on the ways to kill a werewolf when I missed class for a full moon. He never got over it, did he?"

"What the fuck, did he actually?" Sirius' eyes widened and he sat up straighter.

Remus shrugged, "It's fine. I'm not a kid anymore, I don't care."

"I hate him. Always hated him, always will."

"Cheers to that!"

The two drank another shot.

In the end, it was Remus who had to put a stop to it. It was well past midnight and they weren't teenagers who could stay up all night anymore. Sirius was piss drunk and could barely stand, yet was still cursing Snape's name.

Remus couldn't help but laugh softly as he rounded the table to help Sirius up. "C'mon, love, let's get you to bed."

Both of them froze at what Remus had said. The nickname came so naturally, he hadn't even put any thought into what he was saying. Remus realized with a start just how close they were standing, with the way he had an arm around Sirius and his other hand clasping Sirius' as he been trying to lead him to the bedroom. He immediately dropped his arms, taking a step back.

"Shit, sorry."

Sirius just shook his head, turning to face Remus, "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so dramatic. I just- I haven't heard that in so long."

"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or something, I wasn't trying to start anything. I know it's been a decade and we're not who we used to be."

Sirius' silvery eyes bore into Remus and then he was stepping closer and grabbing his hands. "You couldn't make me uncomfortable if you tried. I missed it, honestly."

"I missed you," Remus whispered, leaning down to place his forehead against Sirius'. Sirius just let out a soft sigh before leaning up to wrap his arms around Remus' neck, wrists crossed.

Remus realized the music was still playing, and as if it could sense the mood, a slow song was playing. Biting back a smile, he dropped his arms to Sirius' waist and began rocking them back and forth. Sirius happily complied and though neither of them said a word, the silence was comforting.

When the song ended, they pulled away with light blushes. As if he suddenly remembered the reason they had originally stood up, Sirius turned towards his bedroom.

"I should sleep," he mumbled, hooking a thumb towards the closed door.

Remus nodded and was about to turn for his own room before changing his mind. He strode towards Sirius instead, leaning down to press a soft kiss against his cheek. Sirius was just staring up at him wide-eyed and Remus reveled in the fact that he still had an effect on him.

"Goodnight, I'll see you in the morning," Remus murmured and finally left to his room.

He faintly heard Sirius whisper a goodnight, his voice high and airy. Maybe, just maybe, they'd be able to find a new normal.

#wolfstar #remus lupin x sirius black #sirius black x remus lupin #marauders era #post azkaban #prisinor of azkaban #order of the phoenix #marauders #submission

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confusednarcissistwrites · 4 years

Text

Teenage Dirtbag PT.3 (K.S.)

Sorry for the delay guys! I should really get a more regular posting schedule for this, but for now it’s just as I get parts written lol If anyone would be interested in being added to a taglist, let me know! Enjoy some building angst 😉

(suggestion of smut, mentions of alcohol, cursing)

You and Kyle were jerked awake by the sound of banging on the door.

“Wake up and get dressed!” called a voice, making rounds to clear out their house of all the overnighters.

It took you a second to gain your bearings through the hangover. You were naked in a room you didn’t recognize with your ex-boyfriend who was also naked. Fantastic.

Kyle groaned and rubbed his eyes harshly, clearly on the same page. Avoiding eye contact, you both got up and searched for your clothes that were thrown about the room. Though the tension was nearly unbearable, the thought of talking about what had happened made your already nauseous stomach so somersaults.

“Do you need a ride?” You were surprised he was the first to speak. You looked up at him, watching as he pulled his shirt over his head. You hated how attracted to him you still were.

“No, I drove with- oh shit.” Missy. You’d completely forgotten. You snatched your coat up off the floor and pulled your phone from your pocket hurriedly. Thankfully, there was a text from her last night:

‘Getting a ride home from Kelly, hope you’re okay xx’

You sighed in relief, holding your aching head for a moment. Everything was spinning.

“You don’t look too good. Maybe I should drive you home,” Kyle pressed, spinning the ring on his thumb, a tick of his you’d come to recognize.

“Okay.” You really didn’t want to, but you also knew he was right about you not being able drive safely like this.

He unblocked the door, and you followed him out. The house was trashed. People were passed out on the floor while others stepped over them trying to clean up half empty cups of liquor and the remnants of a silly string war.

He was parked in the back where the band had performed the night before. Only then did it dawn on you that that was why he was at the party. You climbed into the passenger side of his old beater, wishing like hell that you could just drive yourself home. Too much had happened in that car for you to not feel just the slightest bit disgusted with yourself for finding yourself right back there again.

He flicked on the radio, his favorite jazz cd filling the silence between you. All the little things you thought you’d made up in your mind to make him more endearing in your memories were right there in front of you. You fought so hard to hate him, to remember all the pain he’d put you through. Yet, you still ached for him to reach over and hold your hand like he used to.

‘God, Missy is going to kill me.’

Pulling up in front of your dorms, Kyle put the car in park and looked over at you. He spun his ring, looking down. Never before had you seen him look so shy.

“I uh..”

“Thanks for the ride. I’ll give you a call and we can talk later, okay?” you interrupted, sparing you both from his struggle to find words.

“O-okay. Sounds good,” he replied, looking up to meet your eyes. You sat looking back at him for half a second before climbing out of the car and heading into the building, not looking back. To say you felt shaken was an understatement. You hurried to your dorm, trying to slip in quietly in case Missy was still sleeping. Should you be so lucky.

She sat cross-legged on her bed sipping from a mug of coffee and staring judgmentally at you over the brim. “Coffee is still hot if you want some.”

You hung up your coat, not saying anything as you poured yourself a mug and reached for the aspirin, awaiting the incoming ass-chewing.

“Kyle Scheible. Again. Because it went so well the first time.”

“We just fooled around, Missy. It didn’t mean anything. We were both drunk,” you said defensively, though you weren’t sure who you were trying to convince.

She sighed. “Look, I’m not your mom. I’m not going to lecture you. Just think about it.”

“Nothing to think about,” you deflected with a little shrug. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

You gathered up your things, saying a quick goodbye as you left the dorm to go wash last night’s events from your skin and hopefully ease your headache. Fortunately, the showers were almost empty this late in the morning, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Glimpses of the night before came back to you as you slipped out of your clothes. The less you wore, the more bruises and scratches you found. You felt.. wrong. It felt wrong that no matter how much you over thought the events of the night before, you didn’t feel much regret for what had happened. Stepping under the hot stream of water, you let out a contented sigh, feeling your tense muscles relax. ‘What do I have to feel bad about?’ you rationalized. He had initiated. You tried to fathom what his game was. Perhaps there was no game. Maybe it was just sex. You washed away what little remained of your makeup, feeling a bit deflated. You decided to rest that afternoon, and then decide whether or not you would call him.

However, when you got back to your room and checked your phone, there was already a text from him waiting for you:

“Let’s meet at the park instead. Hate talking on the phone. 8 work?”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Yeah, that’s fine.” You should have known you were going to get out of this that easily.

++++++

After spending the afternoon in bed relaxing around the dorm, you got up and got dressed to go out and meet up with Kyle. Needless to say, you’d been thinking about it all day. Would you guys be able to finally talk about things, or would this just be another screaming match? Did he even want to talk? What was his endgame? You had no clue. Even worse, you weren’t sure what you wanted out of meeting up with him. You looked into the mirror, tugging your high collared shirt a bit higher to try and cover the dark marks he’d left. After slipping on your shoes, you wrote a quick note to let Missy know you were going out once she got back from her class. You spared details knowing they would just make her worry. A deep breath and then you were out the door.

When you arrived at the park, you spotted Kyle’s car tucked away behind a grove of trees. You rolled your eyes, parking next to him. You never did understand his paranoia over people knowing where he was. He watched as you hopped out of your car and into his passenger seat, a hand-rolled cigarette hanging from his lips.

“Hey,” you exhaled, your anxiety flaring. He was even harder to be next to when you didn’t have any alcohol in your system.

“Hey,” he replied, exhaling smoke out his cracked window before offering the cigarette to you. You took it, cracking your window and taking a pull. The tobacco he used always tasted so much better than the cheap Malls you bummed at parties. Kyle had been the first to introduce you to it all. You felt your nerves easy slightly, handing it back to him. He tapped it in the ashtray, looking over at you expectantly. “You wanted to talk?”

You voice caught in your throat. Shit. It had been you who had said you would call. “I-I mean I didn’t.. really have anything to say. I just.. thought we should.” You wiped your sweaty palms on your ripped jeans, avoiding his ever-intense gaze.

“About?”

You shot him a look, sensing him toying with you. He just looked right back at you. “Well, I mean the fact that we slept together last night, for starters.”

He cleared his throat, stubbing out the butt. He stayed quiet, reaching out and pulling your collar aside slightly to see the pink, purple imprint of his mouth. You watched his eyes darken. “It was good.”

You swallowed, drawing your knees together slightly. You wanted to ask him if he regretted it, but you knew that was never Kyle’s style. If it brought him pleasure in the moment, then it was always worth it no matter the consequences. “Yeah,” you breathed, distracted by his fingers brushing over the mark. You knew full well that what you had done was not “good,” but, God, it certainly had felt good. Feeling a bit panicky under his touch, you reached for the cigarette and took another pull. Your eyes met as he watched you carefully. You couldn’t miss the way his eyes drifted to your lips as you exhaled, smoke swirling gracefully between you and curling around his face.

Suddenly his hand was at your nape and his lips were on yours. Without the filter of alcohol this time, you were able to feel every ounce of his need for you. No matter why it was there, it made him absolutely magnetizing, and you just couldn’t resist. You kissed him back for no logical reason other than the fact that it felt so damn good. His free hand found your thigh, making you gasp softly and allowing him the chance to invade your mouth with his tongue. Your hands tangled into his curls. You noticed his hair was longer now. His hand tightened on your thigh, eliciting a soft whimper from you.

He pulled away, his eyes blown with lust. “Backseat?”

You didn’t even hesitate.

+++++

When it was all over, you were tucked under his arm and you were both covered by a thin blanket he’d had in his car for emergencies. The windows were fogged over, and you were both still trying to catch your breath. You couldn’t fathom how on earth you possibly had ended up back here again so easily. Sitting up, you began to pull your clothes back on.

“Y/N,” he called softly, halting your movements. You turned to look back at him, and he sat up, his hand sliding along your jaw as he pressed a lingering kiss to your lips. “That was so good.”

You couldn’t help but blush, a ghost of a smile on your lips as he continued peppering kisses along your neck and face. “Kyle.. I need to go,” you giggled ticklishly, lightly pushing him away. When he sat back, you were able to see he was smiling too. A wave of emotion washed over you, and you promptly realized how fucked you were. Your smile faded, and you hurried to finish getting dressed. Once you were fully dressed and he was decently, you popped open the door and slid out. You looked back to him, hesitating only a moment before you closed the door behind you and got back in your own car.

It wasn’t until you were almost home that you felt the tears falling down your cheeks.

721 notes · View notes

xjoonchildx · 4 years

Text

airplane, pt. 2 | jjk x reader chapter one: ICN --> LAX

pairing: jungkook/reader word count: 6.4K rating: 18+

genre: smut | silly smut | nonsensical smut

warnings: criminal!jungkook, koreanamerican!jungkook, highly improbable condom placement, unrealistic use of available sex space, reality has left the chat, plausibility has left the chat

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

artwork by the shmexy @ppersonna who’s smut is even better than her art

*************************

One day it works out too well, then the next day I’m completely screwed (I still) Who should I live as today, Kim Namjoon or RM? 25, I still don’t know how to live well So, today as well, we just go -- Airplane, Pt. 2 BTS

**************************

Jungkook Jeon is basically your Carmen Sandiego.

You stare down at the photocopy of the state of California driver’s license in your hand, into the face of the brash little fucker you’ve been chasing across the globe for the better part of a year.

He looks barely old enough to drive.

Of course, this picture was taken years ago when he was a sophomore at Stanford. Back before he dropped out of school despite being in the top of his class. Back before he broke the law by taking six million dollars of someone else’s money, then broke his parents’ hearts by disappearing without a trace.

You should already have him in custody — and If he were like any of the other greedy assholes you usually chase, he would be. But instead, Jungkook Jeon has managed to deflect and dodge and avoid you at every turn for months.

It’s driving you fucking insane.

One time, you’d been so certain about cornering him in Argentina that you’d boarded a plane with a pair of thick-necked US Marshals and flown south. You’d had to head back to the States empty-handed and sunburnt and pissed.

The real kicker was when you’d gotten home and opened a one-line email – encrypted to hell and back – with a picture of your FBI Academy graduation headshot attached.

you’re so hot i almost want to get caught. almost.

That had hurt.

So you’d had to lick your wounds, bide your time and wait for a man who apparently didn’t make mistakes to make a mistake. And for a while, he didn’t.

Until he did.

**************************************

Agent Kim Namjoon is definitely not the pencil pusher you imagined him to be during your many phone calls and other interactions.

No, the man who meets you and your team at Incheon International Airport is what the kids these days call a snack. He is tall and broad and wears a pair of dark thick-rimmed glasses that should make him look like a giant nerd but somehow don’t.

Very, very cute.

“Welcome to Korea,” he says with an easy smile. You smile back, then clear your throat and remind yourself you’re not here to flirt with your contact with Korea’s National Intelligence Service.

Seriously.

Agent Kim’s English is immaculate – this you already knew since you’ve exchanged more than a few calls in recent weeks. He’s got his own team ready for briefing at his headquarters. After a quick drive, you’re all in one room going over the plan.

His guys have tracked Jeon to a high-end restaurant in Seoul where he’s been working for a few months. They already have a rough sketch of the area. You’re going to block off every exit, cover every angle, and make sure there’s no way he’s getting out of that restaurant without coming through one of you.

This should go off without a hitch – but then you remember Argentina and frown.

“He’s there. My guys are ready to go,” Agent Kim says, after taking a quick call on his cell phone.

It’s decided, then.

You load into black vans and take off for the west end of the city. Agent Kim drives and you have the chance to look out the window at the streets. It’s a beautiful place, you think. Agent Kim seems to read your mind.

“You should come back sometime,” he says. “When you’re not here on business.”

Sigh. You’re going to have to flirt with this man, aren’t you?

“I would like that. Maybe you could show me around some time,” you reply.

His eyes stay on the road – his hands locked at 10 and 2 – but you see the ghost of a smile pass over his lips. You smile to yourself and look back out the window.

Minutes later you’re parked outside an industrial-looking brick building. Gleaming glass-and-stone condos and perfectly manicured greenscaping confirm you are in a high-dollar neighborhood. It’s a Saturday night in a ritzy part of Seoul and you’re probably about to ruin someone’s date night.

Or maybe rescue it, depending on the date.

You stare out at the restaurant and imagine Jungkook Jeon inside, going about his life without realizing you’re here to throw a wrench into all his plans. You get a little thrill when you imagine the look on his face when he realizes the gig is up. Victory is so close you can taste it.

Agent Kim gets a call from his point man, everyone is in place.

Showtime.

******************************

“Is that consommé? It looks like consommé. What do you think, Agent Kim?”

Jungkook Jeon looks shaken for a moment when you step in front of the table where’s he’s just laid out a picture-perfect pair of starters. His guests, a nicely-dressed older couple, also look shaken as they glance nervously between you, Agent Kim, and their now permanently off-duty server.

He straightens to his full height.

The youthful roundness of the face you’ve stared at so long in that driver’s license picture is gone. You have no idea what this guy’s been eating for the past few years, but in place of that baby-faced kid is a man, tall and broad and muscular. Tattoos you can’t make out run across his hands, up his arms, and disappear into the white dress shirt he has rolled to the elbows. His hair is on the long side, pulled back, giving you an unobstructed view of what can only be described as a perfect face. Serious, literal perfection.

Good grief.

Somehow the little shit recovers from his shock in an instant. He smirks, despite his clear disadvantage.

“I gotta say, you look even better in person.”

Oh yeah? So do you.

You ignore his opening line.

“It’s time to come home, Mr. Jeon. Pay the piper and all that.”

He has the nerve to roll his eyes and your hand itches with the desire to punch him in his stupid fucking perfect face.

“Teamed up with some Korean suits, huh?” He gives Agent Kim the once-over and apparently finds him lacking.

“Mr. Jeon,” you feign a scandalized tone. “Just how do you think I was raised? It would be downright rude to barge into a sovereign country without an invitation. Besides, Agent Kim here has been an absolute pleasure.”

You could hear a pin drop inside this restaurant right now. Every knife and fork and glass has come to rest on the fine white linen on these tables. The guests are frozen in place, taking in the strange scene.

Dinner and a show tonight, guys.

Jungkook doesn’t move an inch. You’d half expected him to just walk up, accept his cuffs and get this show on the road. But no, apparently he’s in a talking mood.

“Tell me how you found me.”

You sigh. You’re not a pair of girlfriends catching up over coffee. You open your mouth to say just that, but Agent Kim speaks up.

“We had a source come through with some very specific information on you.”

“Oh, I think Agent Kim is being far too kind,” you counter. “What he means to say is that your Korean sucks. You see, Mr. Jeon, you may look like them,” you gesture at the restaurant full of guests, “but you sound like us. Let’s just say you stick out like a sore thumb here.”

The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement at the jab.

“I hated Korean school, you know.”

“It shows.”

He laughs.

Agent Kim clears his throat as if to remind you both that you’re not alone.

“Well this isn’t a social call, and I’m sure all these fine people would love to get back to their meals. So why don’t we finish this chat on the way back to the United States, Mr. Jeon?” you say, getting back to the task at hand.

Agent Kim signals his guys and they swoop in to put him in cuffs. He doesn’t resist, just holds out his hands and shoots you his most flirtatious smile.

“I’m going to hold you to that, Agent.”

On your way out the door, you glance over at the consommé and hope it’s supposed to be served cold.

**********************************

“What is a man who stole six million dollars doing waiting tables at a restaurant?” you muse out loud.

Jungkook Jeon is in the backseat of Agent Kim’s black SUV, looking out the window.

“I had to have some kind of story, right? Besides, I kind of liked it.”

“You didn’t get to spend the money,” you say.

“Not really,” he admits. “It’s much easier to fantasize about blowing millions of dollars than it is to actually do it.”

“Tsk, tsk, Mr. Jeon. What a shame.”

He leans forward in the backseat, hands cuffed in front of him.

“You know what would really be a shame, Agent? If I don’t get the chance to fuck you before you lock me up.”

A muscle twitches in Agent Kim’s jaw.

“Watch your mouth,” he warns, glaring into the rearview mirror. You immediately decide you like him a little stern. It’s pretty hot.

“Mr. Jeon, you and your dick will be free to do whatever you’d both like in about twenty years. That’s how this whole grand larceny and evasion thing works,” you say, ignoring the sensation that spreads across the back of your neck at his crass words.

He whistles.

“I’m really going to waste my best-looking years in prison.”

No kidding.

“Oh, don’t be too disappointed,” you say sweetly. “I hear there are a few advantages to having such a pretty face behind bars.”

You hear the clink of his cuffs and look into your rearview just in time to see him give you the finger.

*********************************

The government can be so cheap sometimes.

You’d have loved to pull right up to the tarmac at Incheon International, walk right onto a chartered plane like the Feds do in the movies. But alas, private flights are definitely not in the budget.

Instead, you have to settle for regular seats on a Korean Air flight. You’d been in touch with the airline ahead of time and they’d offered you and your team privacy in the back rows of the plane – complete with a curtain separator. You really couldn’t blame them for not wanting passengers to be greeted by a handcuffed man and his gun-toting babysitters.

Smart move all around.

Seating arrangements are decided, you and Jungkook on one side of the aisle, your two Marshals on the other. They’re both smart men, highly-skilled and boring as hell. You’d already had to suffer through their small talk on the fourteen-hour long flight here, and you’d be damned if you had to do it again on the way back.

“Are you going to let me have a drink?” Jungkook asks, as soon as you’re settled into your seats.

“Of course,” you reply, scrolling through a few emails on your phone. “What’s your favorite kind of juice?”

He snorts.

“It’s gonna be a long flight unless you play nice,” he warns.

“Mr. Jeon,” you sigh. “Shut up.”

He shakes his handcuffs.

“You could at least take these off,” he grumbles. “Not like I can walk off of a moving plane.”

“Nope,” you reply, affecting your best bored tone. You grab a magazine out of the seatback and pretend to leaf through it.

“So you want me to sit here – no phone, no headphones, no nothing – for fourteen hours?”

“Better to practice that ‘bored out of your mind’ routine sooner rather than later. I’m sure it’s gonna come in handy.”

You don’t look his way, but you can feel the glare he’s fixed on you and you have to fight the urge to smile.

******************************

The flight attendant who rolls a giant drink cart into your quiet section of this plane looks like a doll. Porcelain skin, huge eyes and the whitest smile you have ever seen.

Jungkook straightens in his seat immediately. He’s been pouting for the last hour but now he sees this dazzling young woman and his game face is back on.

“Hello,” he says, flashing her a smile.

Then he stops — seems to remember his audience — and resumes the exchange in Korean. You stare at him as he makes eyes at the flight attendant, working her with the confidence of a man who is not wearing handcuffs right now.

She blushes deeply at something he says before turning back to her cart to pour a Jack and Coke.

“Are you serious, Jeon?”

He smiles.

“You don’t hate me, right? Like, obviously I’ve pissed you off, but you don’t hate me. Because only a person who hated me would stop me from having a drink on my way to federal prison.”

You open your mouth to protest, but instead decide that he’s right. He’s a thief – not a killer for pete’s sake.

A super-hot, ridiculously charming, complete asshole of a thief who is definitely not getting under your skin by flirting with the flight attendant right now.

The porcelain doll turns back and hands him his cocktail and Jungkook winks at her. This man just accepted his drink with his hands in fucking handcuffs and this woman is blushing at him like he just asked for her number in a nightclub.

“Are you done?” you hiss.

“With what?” he asks innocently, cuffs clinking as he lifts the drink to his mouth.

“Eye-fucking the flight attendant.”

He feigns shock. “Are you – are you…jealous?”

You scoff and turn your attention back to your magazine.

He leans close.

“Don’t be jealous,” he says, blowing whiskey-scented breath into your ear. “I wanted you first. I’m only flirting with her because you’re really mean to me.”

He leans back and takes another sip of his drink.

There is something about this mischievous boy-man with the chiseled body and the smart mouth. He certainly has a charm. You’re certain he’s been able to use that charm to get out of more than a few sticky situations over the years.

“I wasn’t kidding you know,” he says. “About wanting to fuck you.”

He shakes the ice in his glass to show off that he’s already drained it and gives you another one of those self-assured smiles that’s really starting to piss you off. You drop your gaze back to your magazine.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” you state simply, pretending to have a deep interest in some blurb about face masks.

“No? Are you sure about that?”

“You are mind-bogglingly arrogant for a man who is headed to prison for the next two decades,” you reply dryly.

“Probably headed to prison,” he corrects. “Innocent until proven guilty, due process and all that. Unless things have changed? I realize it’s been a while since I’ve been home.”

You snort.

“Okay fine, you’re right. I’m headed to prison for the next twenty years which is why it’s imperative that you fuck me now. Immediately. Anything else would be,” he gives a dramatic shake of his head, “Inhumane.”

This time you can’t help but laugh and one of the Marshals across the aisle gives you a disapproving look, like he’s been forced to chaperone a pair of giggling teenagers.

You clear your throat and look back down at your magazine, force the smile off your face.

“Argentina,” you say. “How did you get out of there before I got to you?”.

The flight attendant returns with another drink and another smile for him.

“You want something, I want something,” he says, taking a long sip. “Maybe we could work something out?”

“I’m not going to fuck you for information, Jeon. All of that will soon come out in the wash,” you sigh.

“Then fuck me for charity. For good will. Fuck me because it’s the least you can do since you’re blowing up my entire life right now.”

You roll your eyes.

“You blew up your life, you idiot. You’re the one who intercepted a wire transfer and stole six million bucks. You’ve already been fucked. You fucked yourself.”

He smiles wistfully for a moment.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point there.”

*******************************

You stop him at three drinks.

His eyes have taken on a soft quality and his entire energy is a bit more relaxed with some booze in his system. It’s hard, it’s really hard to ignore how hot this man is without even trying.

But when he tries? Then it’s damned near impossible.

You check your watch. You still have seven hours to go on this flight.

“Luck,” he says, suddenly.

“Excuse me?” you say, looking up from your magazine.

“You wanted to know how I got out of Argentina in time. I was gonna make up some fancy story about how I’d figured out you were on to me and beat the clock to get away but the truth is, I was just lucky. I’d already been there too long and I was getting restless. I was ready to go.”

Hmm. So the booze has made him talkative.

“Your landlord said we’d missed you by one day,” you counter.

“Yup,” he laughs, closing his eyes momentarily as if reliving the thrill of the chase. “I used to have a lot of luck, actually. Before I ran into you.”

“Sorry about that.”

“No you’re not.”

“Fair enough,” you say and the two of you share a laugh. You open a bag of pretzels and offer him one. He begrudgingly accepts.

“Why did you take the money?”

He chews thoughtfully for a moment.

“Because I wanted to know if I could. I didn’t think I was gonna pull it off, but again, it was my luck. Once I figured out how to do it, I just did.”

“How remarkably stupid,” you breathe, a smile on your face. He smiles, too.

“Yeah, well. I said I was lucky, not smart.”

“Oh, but you are smart, Mr. Jeon, and don’t think you’ve convinced me otherwise. Your transcript from Stanford tells a very interesting story. What did your parents say when you dropped out at the top of your class and went to work at a gas station?”

The sarcastic back-and-forth screeches to a halt. For the first time, you see darkness pass over his face.

“Don’t ask me about my parents,” he says curtly. “I’ll tell you whatever else you want to know, but that shit is none of your business.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, and this time you mean it.

He shifts to his side, away from you, and looks out the window.

You sit quiet, thinking for a minute – but after a while you both fall asleep.

********************************************

You wake to Jungkook nudging you.

“Get up,” he says urgently. “I have to piss.”

You groan, trying to clear the fog from your brain and glance at your watch. Still four more hours to go on this flight.

“Like now,” he says, bouncing one leg to ward off the sensation.

You get up, stretch out, and wait for him to stand but then realize he’s waiting for you to help him since it’s an awkward fit in the seats with his handcuffs. Instead of making a snarky comment, you just offer your hand and a slight smile.

Very unlike you.

“Thanks,” he says, straightening out, stretching his legs. One of the Marshals raises an eyebrow at you.

“He has to use the bathroom,” you say, stilling the man with a raised hand when he makes to stand. “It’s alright, I need to stretch, too. I’ll walk him down there.”

The Marshal looks skeptically from Jungkook to you and back.

“It’s fine, Agent,” you say, a little annoyed. “It’s not like he can go anywhere, right?”

“Right,” Jungkook says, still bouncing that leg.

The Marshal gives you a look that makes clear he doesn’t approve, but he’s not going to stop you.

You walk behind Jungkook as he makes his way past the curtain, down the aisle and towards the bathroom. It’s a half-empty flight, and you’re glad for it when you see people staring at his handcuffs. You don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you can’t help but feel a little embarrassed on his behalf when you hear them whispering in Korean. At least you don’t know what they’re saying.

The firm set of Jungkook’s mouth makes you think he wishes that were the case for him, too.

“Just uh, give me a minute,” he says, when you reach the bathroom.

It turns out to be a lot longer than a minute.

You’re half tempted to bang on the door and demand to know why he’s taking so long. Maybe the Marshal was right to be suspicious of Jungkook. Maybe he figured out a way off this plane through the toilet.

You’re bouncing your own leg impatiently when he finally reappears.

“What took you so long?” you ask, annoyed.

“You ever try to take your pants and underwear off while handcuffed?” he asks. “You know what — never mind, don’t answer that. You’ll start giving me ideas.”

Ah. He’s back, then.

Part of you is a little relieved to hear his smart-ass mouth again. You feel a hell of a lot less guilty around this version of him.

“Listen, I did a little recon and it’s a tight fit, but there’s definitely enough room for us to fuck,” he says, face comically serious. “And we’re running out of time for you to pull the trigger, so what’s it going to be?”

“Ugh. You’re foul,” you say, pulling a face.

“But you kind of like it,” he shoots back.

He’s right, though. You kind of do.

***********************

Clearly you’ve lost your mind.

Pheromones have short-circuited all the portions of your brain that control logic, reason, and risk. That’s the only plausible explanation for why you are slumped into your seat right now, legs pressed together tight, imagining fucking Jungkook Jeon in an airplane bathroom.

Sympathy and curiosity and more than a little horniness are making for a strange mix. You reason to yourself — as if you are actually entertaining this madness — that he’s not a convicted felon, just an accused one. There’s gotta be a loophole in the FBI handbook somewhere.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Jungkook asks, leaning close — a smile playing over his lips.

“Shut up.”

“You are,” he whispers in a scandalized tone. “I mean with these on, I’m not going to be able to do my best work, obviously, but I’ve done more with less. Unless you want to take them off,” he says, rolling his wrists in the handcuffs.

“I already told you, I’m not taking those off,” you say sharply.

“Alright, alright. Keep it kinky. I can roll with that.”

”Shut up, Jeon.”

He gestures across his mouth like he’s zipping it shut and throwing away the key and you fight the urge to laugh.

“If I decided to fuck you, and I’m not saying I would,” you hiss, “I would have to stuff a sock into that smart mouth of yours just to not have to hear it.”

He laughs and his face looks so young and relaxed it takes your breath away a little.

“Make it your underwear and we have a deal,” he winks.

You pick up another magazine and get back to actively trying to ignore him and that annoying pulse between your legs.

*************************

Two hours left to Los Angeles.

You glance over at your guard dogs, who’ve both knocked out after a snack. One has a newspaper draped fully over his face, grandpa style.

You should have ordered a drink. You should have ordered six. That way, if you’re ever called to the carpet about the decision you’re about to make, you can blame it on alcohol-induced psychosis. Because the Marshals are asleep and you feel bad for Jungkook Jeon and he’s so hot you can barely think straight at this point. You take a deep breath and make a decision.

Fuck it.

You stand quietly, motioning to Jungkook with a finger over your lips. For a moment, his brows knit together in confusion but that look passes almost as quickly as it came. Then his entire face breaks out into a wide grin.

“Yeah?” he whispers.

“Shut up,” you whisper back, through gritted teeth.

You hold out your hand to help him to stand and when he grips it, he rubs his the pad of his thumb across your wrist. You try to ignore the sizzle of arousal he manages to drum up with that brief touch.

Quietly, you both walk past the curtain, past sleeping passengers and back to the clean but cramped bathroom where you are about to do the dumbest shit you have ever done.

You glance around at the passengers nearby and notice only one older man, eyes wide on the two of you. You shoot an excuse-me-sir-this-is-official-government-business look at him before following Jungkook into the tiny space.

You lock the door and turn to face him.

“Glad you finally came around,” he says, immediately backing you into the door. His mouth goes right for your neck and he pushes his entire body into yours in this tiny space. He is large and warm and he smells way better than he should after working a restaurant shift, being arrested, and then being jammed into a plane seat for hours.

His lips work up the column of your throat and his hands, still secured in front of him, push uselessly into the front of your lightweight wool dress. Shame, really, that you couldn’t take him out of these. You’d love to feel those hands right about now.

“I wasn’t kidding about keeping your mouth shut,” you manage to say, breathless at the feel of his mouth on your skin. “Don’t make me change my mind.”

The vibration of his laughter tickles the shell of your ear.

“I’ll be a good boy, I promise,” he says. “I just need to get my face under this dress.”

Your brain stutters for a moment, hung up on the mental image. He drops to his knees in front of you, lifts his hands to try and push up the front of the almost-too-tight garment but his handcuffs make it impossible. You graciously help him out, hiking the hem up your thighs. You’re about to work your underwear down, but he’s impatient, burying his face directly into the wet satin and inhaling deeply.

“Fuck, you smell amazing,” he groans, nosing the aching nub between your thighs. You’re glad he can’t see the way your mouth drops open when he licks out at the damp material, teasing you with the barest hint of friction.

“Help me out here,” he moans, and you do just that, sliding your panties down as best you can with the amount of space you’ve got.

At this angle, you can only get them down to your knees, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to care. He pushes his entire face into you, lips and teeth and tongue driving into you, working you with a fervor that makes your knees start to wobble. You grab a handful of his hair to steady yourself but it’s no use. Absently, you realize the tremors running up and down your body are rattling the door.

“Nice to know that mouth is good for more than just trash talk,” you tease on deep exhale. He laughs.

“Maybe some day you’ll get the chance to enjoy the full-service experience.”

“Probably not, Jeon,” you moan. “This is just a one-time favor, got it?”

All the blood in your brain has taken a dive into parts lower south and you marvel at how quickly your impending orgasm is coming on. But then, you’ve basically had about ten hours of foreplay up to this point, so maybe it’s not that surprising.

That damned door keeps rattling and you just know the little old man on the other side is probably staring it down. You’re not sure what it says about you that you think that’s kind of hilarious.

Your body jolts when Jungkook wraps his lips around your clit and sucks so hard you see stars. “You’re the one about to come on my face in an airplane bathroom,” he groans, licking obscenely between words. “So who’s doling out favors right now?”

Well, that does it.

The second he brings his lips and tongue back to your clit, you fall apart, gripping his hair so hard you’re certain it has to hurt. You pour all your energy into not screaming as your orgasm steamrolls you, and whatever energy you have left goes into trying to stay upright. Jungkook stays face-first in your heat, lapping up your release until the last tremors shake you and that goddamned door.

“Shit,” your voice is shaky, chest heaving when you finally make a sound.

“You are very, very fucking hot,” Jungkook says, breathless from where he sits on the floor. “Way too hot to be a Fed.”

You laugh.

“Well you are definitely too hot to be a criminal, but here we are, huh?”

Your eyes slide down to his glinting handcuffs, but they aren’t what’s catching your attention. Instead, your gaze heads right to the giant bulge straining against the front of his jeans. Turnabout is fair play, and you’re suddenly very eager to return the favor.

You help him stand and immediately seal your mouth to his, tasting yourself on his lips. Your fingers fumble past his restraints, underneath to where you can feel the button of his jeans and you undo it as fast as you can. He stops kissing you long enough to groan into your mouth when your hands slip into his boxers and your fingers wrap around his cock. He is hot and thick and hard in your hand. You squeeze around him, enjoying the way his hips jerk in response.

“Don’t tease,” he whines. “I’m gonna have to fantasize about this blowjob for the next twenty years.”

“I’d better make it memorable then,” you say, sinking down to your knees in the cramped space. You shove his jeans off his hips and look up at him as you gently push his boxers down and over his straining cock. His body is rock hard, lean muscle and defined lines running from his shapely legs up to his cuffed wrists and underneath that white shirt you’d love to peel off but can’t.

His head falls back the second your lips touch his swollen head. You tease it for a moment with a few quick licks, but decide this is really not the time to be dragging this out. The strangled “fuck” he whispers when you take him down fully is the sweetest and dirtiest thing you’ve heard in a while.

You manage to catch his gaze for a moment as you maintain a steady rhythm on his cock with your hands. His eyes are glassy with drinks and arousal, and you nearly have to slip a hand between your legs when his tongue slips out of his mouth to wet his lips.

He lifts and drops his handcuffs a couple of times before growling his frustration at not being able to put his fingers in your hair. You feel a faint throb of sympathy for him for a moment before reminding yourself that you literally have your mouth around his cock so frankly, things could be a lot worse for him than they are right now.

“You gotta stop,” he says, after a few minutes of the slow, wet torture. You release him with a soft pop and a confused expression.

“It’s your last blowjob for twenty years, Jeon. You want me to stop?”

“No, no,” he says quickly. “I have to fuck you. Please let me fuck you. It’s all I can think about,” he whines.

“You can’t,” you say firmly. “No condoms.”

He blows out a heavy breath like he’s thinking for a moment and there you are, on your knees in this tiny bathroom, confused as to what your next step should be.

“Look around,” he says suddenly.

“What?”

“Look – people fuck in airplane bathrooms all the time, right? It’s a thing. Maybe someone out there pulled some hero shit and is looking out for the next person.”

“This bathroom,” you say skeptically, “is the size of a goddamned shoebox, Jeon. You think we’re going to magically scrounge up a condom?”

“Just look,” he implores through gritted teeth.

“Fine,” you huff, leaning over to pop the cabinet under the sink open. You put one searching hand inside and pull out three sanitary pads that look like they were packaged in the 1970s.

He groans, frustrated.

“Hang on,” you say, jamming your hand back inside. Your fingertips brush up against something smooth and you fish it out, eyes wide with utter disbelief.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you say, more to yourself than to him.

You hold the condom packet up for him to inspect.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, cock jerking at the sight of it, like it knows he’s just hit the jackpot.

He laughs so hard for a moment you fear this entire encounter has gone entirely off track.

“My luck is back,” he declares triumphantly, finally. “Now, please hurry up and get on my dick.”

You’re shaking your head in disbelief the entire time you’re ripping the packet open, rolling it down Jungkook’s impossibly still-hard cock. He’s breathing hard, body tense with anticipation when you slide your heels off to take your underwear off completely.

“The heels,” he groans, watching as you slip your panties over your ankles. “Can you — you know…keep ‘em on?”

“Ugh, you are such a pervert,” you scold, slipping your feet back into the shoes and leaning back to line him up with your entrance. He surges forward and you moan at the stretch as he fills you entirely in one thrust.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, dropping his head into the crook of your neck, already rolling his hips frantically against you. “Shit, that’s incredible.”

And truthfully, it is. The ledge of the sink is biting into your ass with every thrust and you’re having to do most of the work given his handcuff situation but you really don’t even care because he still feels amazing like this.

He mouths uselessly at the wool covering your breasts because there’s no way to get to them. You nearly admonish him because he’ll leave crude wet spots on the fine material, but you decide against it.

“Oh, I bet you have amazing tits,” he groans, hips maintaining a steady rhythm. “Giving me something to look forward to for next time.”

“There won’t be a next time, Jeon. And there won’t be a this time if you don’t hurry up already,” you shoot back.

He laughs, a little breathless from exertion. “I’m close, I promise. Fuck, you feel so good.”

You squeeze tighter around him, push harder back against him, angle your hips a bit more to ensure he’s going to the hilt with every thrust. The guttural sound he makes in response sends a shiver up your back.

“I’m gonna come,” he gasps after a moment, mouth covering yours as his hips begin to stutter at the first ebbs of his release. Your ass is numb from the sink ledge at this point, legs tired from supporting your weight and his.

“So come then,” you tease, biting gently on the sensitive skin at his pulse point. He groans from deep inside his chest as he lets go – hips jerking as he pumps himself through it.

“Shit,” he groans, leaning on you with his full weight.

“You are crushing me Jeon,” you complain, pushing at his chest with both hands. He chuckles. “Yeah, sorry about that. Balance is a little off at the moment.”

You open your mouth to shoot another sarcastic comment his way, but there is something about the way he is looking at you right now that stops you short.

You clear your throat, uncomfortable with the tiny glimpse into whatever that was.

“Well, as much as I’d love to ruminate on how good this was,” you say, shifting your dress back down and making a beeline for your underwear, “We’ve been in here an insane amount of time already. There’s probably a line outside the door.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, a little too quiet for your liking.

So you put yourself back together and help put him back together, too.

And strangely, when you open the door to leave there is no line. But that little old man is still watching, a look of astonishment on his face as you both walk past.

***********************************

“Listen, are you sitting down right now?”

You frown at the phone display in your office because any conversation that starts with an opening line like that is headed south.

“Uh…yeah. Why?”

“Hang on, I’m coming to your office.”

Seconds later, Agent Novak bursts through the door.

“So you haven’t seen it,” he says, rushing up to your desk.

“Seen what, Novak? Spit it out,” you say, frustrated already.

“Check your email,” he says, arms crossed over his chest. He looks fit to burst with some kind of excitement and your chest already feels a little tight at whatever it is he’s dying to show you.

You click into your email to find an urgent bulletin that you’d missed because you were working on a stack of papers on your desk, not your computer. The subject line makes your heart hammer.

URGENT MEMO: Fugitive Search, Jungkook Jeon

ATTACHED VIDEO FILE

“The guy just walked out of a federal courthouse like he was on an afternoon stroll. Had on a suit and everything,” Novak says, a note of awe in his voice. “Check out the video.”

Your mouth is already hanging open before you even click on the attached CCTV footage. A camera inside the courthouse shows Jungkook Jeon walk out of a bathroom in the front lobby, dressed like an attorney, not a defendant. His long hair is cut into a more professional style, his suit covers his tattoos and he looks entirely in place.

Novak is right – he walks so casually past the guards and other visitors that no one even thinks to stop him.

“Word is, court was on a lunch break and it looks like he had everything ready to go. Walked into a waiting Uber and vanished like smoke.”

You haven’t said a word since Novak walked in with this bombshell.

You just watch the CCTV footage over and over again in a loop, willing your brain to accept what your eyes can see clear as day.

This motherfucker.

Guess his luck really is back.

***************************

#jungkooksmut #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x read #btssmut #bts fanfic #bts fic

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fanimesenseiwrites · 3 years

Text

Kidnapped to Hell (pt. 13)

CW: brief nudity

Levi woke up when his alarm went off in the morning, and was very tempted to hit the snooze button until he realized that Hoshiko wasn't laying with him anymore.

He whined quietly. "Hoshiko?" He climbed out of the bathtub and looked around.

It appeared that Hoshiko was no longer in the room and Levi nearly gave up looking until he noticed some movement out of the corner of his eye.

He turned to see what had moved and saw Hoshiko swimming around in his wall of a tank.

He was mesmerized by their movements; amazed by the way they seemed to dance through the water, and entranced by the way their hair and night gown moved around them.

Hoshiko blushed when they noticed Levi watching them.

Levi blushed as well once he realized he had been caught.

Hoshiko waved, then swam up to the top of the tank.

Levi climbed up to meet Hoshiko at the top of the tank.

Hoshiko smiled at him when they saw him and swam to the edge.

"How long have you been in there?" Levi asked as he offered his hands to Hoshiko in order to help them out.

"I'm not entirely sure..." Hoshiko looked at their hands before grabbing Levi's. "But my hands are pruney."

Levi shook his head and pulled Hoshiko out of the water.

"Thank you," Hoshiko thanked as they wrapped their arms around his neck, then they kissed his cheek.

Levi blushed. "You're welcome." He climbed down and set Hoshiko on their feet once they were both on the ground.

Hoshiko took a step back and looked at Levi. "I got you all wet, sorry."

Levi shrugged. "I don't have a problem with being wet."

"Well I do. Can I borrow some of your clothes?" They asked as they picked at their clinging gown.

"You were the one swimming and you don't like being wet?" Levi asked as he walked over to a basket full of clean clothes and grabbed a hoodie and sweatpants.

"I like being submerged in water, I don't like being on dry land and wearing wet clothes," Hoshiko clarified.

Levi thought about it then nodded. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense." He handed Hoshiko the hoodie and sweatpants.

Hoshiko took them and was careful to not let them touch their wet gown. "Thank you."

Levi smiled slightly. "No problem."

"You should get ready for school," Hoshiko suggested.

Levi grimaced. "Yeah, I know..." he started to look for and gather all his uniform items.

Hoshiko chuckled and started to undress.

Levi avoided looking at Hoshiko while he started to change as well.

Hoshiko watched Levi get dressed once they were dressed in their dry and borrowed clothes.

Levi looked back at Hoshiko once he was dressed in his school uniform and blushed when he saw Hoshiko watching him. "Did you watch me change?"

"Is that a problem?" Hoshiko asked sincerely.

"N-no! I just don't know why you'd wanna watch someone like me change..." he avoided eye contact with Hoshiko.

"Someone like you?" Hoshiko questioned, only vaguely understanding what he was implying.

"I-I'm not super muscular like Beel or especially beautiful like Asmo..." he explained while he fidgeted with his hands.

Hoshiko frowned and walked over to him. "It makes me sad that you don't realize how hot you are."

Levi's face turned an even deeper shade of red. "You think that... I- I'm hot?!"

"Well yeah. You've got that swimmer's body going on and these beautiful, amazingly unique orange eyes. Looking into your eyes is like looking into the sunset."

Levi covered his face out of embarrassment. "Stop, stop stop! I can't take the compliments!" He whined.

Hoshiko couldn't help but grin. "But you've got such a cute face," they teased.

"Nope! I'm leaving!" He moved his hands away from his face and walked out of his room.

Hoshiko quickly followed him. "You can't escape my love, Leviathan! I'm going to tell you all the things I like about you!"

Levi covered his ears with his hands. "I can't hear you!" He headed downstairs.

Hoshiko laughed. "I love how playful you are, kinda like right now!"

"La la la! I can't hear you!" Levi yelled back to them, trying to drown out Hoshiko's compliments.

"Yes you can! You've got great hearing abilities! You can hear super clearly, even underwater and I think that's so cool about you!"

Levi whined as he walked into the dining room.

The table was already set for breakfast and Beel and Belphie were already in there, they both looked at Levi when he entered.

Hoshiko giggled as they followed Levi. "I love how passionate you are, Levi!"

Levi groaned. "Please stop!"

"You two are already way too obnoxious," Belphie practically growled at them.

Hoshiko and Levi both immediately stopped and looked at Belphie.

Levi removed his hands from his ears. "I'm surprised you're already down here, Belphie."

Belphie huffed and looked away from him. "I couldn't sleep."

Hoshiko frowned. "Did you sleep at all?"

Belphie wouldn't look at Hoshiko. "... not hardly."

Hoshiko walked over and sat next to Belphie. "Was it because of me?" They asked quietly.

Belphie glanced at Hoshiko but didn't say anything.

Hoshiko moved their chair as close as possible to Belphie's and placed a hand on his thigh. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't..." Belphie sighed and turned his head to look at Hoshiko. "You don't need to be sorry."

Hoshiko touched his cheek with their other hand. "I still feel bad that you didn't sleep."

Then Lucifer walked in from the kitchen with some of the food for breakfast.

He stopped when he noticed Hoshiko and Belphie having their tender moment and looked at Levi with a raised eyebrow.

Levi shrugged, just as lost as Lucifer was.

Lucifer sighed and set the food on the table before going back to the kitchen get some more.

"... you're not mad at me, are you?" Belphie asked Hoshiko quietly, almost desperately.

"No, I know that wasn't you... it wasn't on purpose."

"Good." Belphie wrapped his arms around Hoshiko's waist and pulled himself close to them, nestling his face into their neck as he did.

Hoshiko wrapped their arms around Belphie and held him comfortingly.

Lucifer walked back in and set more food on the table then headed upstairs to check on his other brothers.

Beel put food onto Hoshiko and Belphie's plates before making his own plate.

Hoshiko looked at him and smiled slightly. "Thank you, Beelzebub."

Beel just smiled back at them.

Levi made his plate then started eating.

Then Satan walked in and sat in his usual spot. He looked at Hoshiko and Belphie curiously.

"Is everything okay...?" He asked Hoshiko gently.

Hoshiko looked at him. "Yeah, it'll be fine."

Satan nodded and made his plate.

Hoshiko picked at their food while still holding Belphie.

Mammon walked into the dining room next. "Mornin' guys, wh-?" He stopped talking when he noticed Belphie and Hoshiko pretty much snuggling at the table. "Belphie, why're ya hangin' onto Hoshiko like that?" He asked, though his tone was very accusatory.

Belphie growled at the same time Hoshiko told Mammon, "Shut up and sit down and eat."

Mammon was stunned silent and did as he was told, albeit with a pout on his face.

Levi snickered. "They shut you down!"

Mammon glared at Levi and kicked his leg.

"Ow!" Levi pouted but got the hint and didn't bother Mammon anymore.

Hoshiko rolled their eyes at the two older brothers but otherwise ignored them and ran their fingers through Belphie's hair.

Belphie made an almost purring sound and closed his eyes.

Lucifer walked back into the dining room with Asmo following right behind him.

"Good morning!" Asmo greeted everyone cheerfully. He frowned when he noticed how quiet everyone was. "Why's everyone so dour...?" Then he noticed Hoshiko and Belphie. "Hoshiko, is something wrong?" He asked sweetly.

Hoshiko looked up at Asmo. "Not exactly. Don't worry about it, just have some breakfast, beautiful."

Asmo smiled softly and sat down. "Okay."

Hoshiko looked at Lucifer who had already sat down and started eating.

"Hey Lucifer?" Hoshiko asked gently.

Lucifer looked at Hoshiko. "Yes?"

"Do you think Belphie could stay home from school today?"

Belphie looked up at Hoshiko.

Lucifer seemed immediately annoyed by the question. "Hoshiko, we already talked about this."

"No, no. I don't mean instead of you, I mean in addition to. He didn't get any sleep last night, he's almost definitely going to fall asleep in class if he goes to school."

"He'll probably fall asleep anyways," Levi interjected without skipping a beat.

Hoshiko glared at him.

Levi looked down at his plate without another word.

Lucifer glanced at Levi briefly, then sighed. "No, everyone needs to go back to school today."

"You're not going back to school today," Hoshiko argued.

Belphie pulled away from Hoshiko and turned so that he could see Lucifer, suddenly interested in how he was going to react.

"Hoshiko, we've already discussed this," Lucifer started. "Your safety is-"

"Paramount," Hoshiko finished for him. "Yeah, yeah." They stood up. "The only thing paramount here is how heartless you are."

Then they stormed out of the dining room.

Lucifer was taken aback by the accusation. He stood up from the table as well, ready to go after Hoshiko but decided against it and retreated into the kitchen instead.

The brothers all winced when they heard a plate smash and break in the kitchen, obviously with some force behind it.

"Hm, I think I do want to go to school today," Belphie commented.

"LOL, same!" Levi agreed.

"... Do you think its okay to leave them here alone with each other?" Asmo asked the table quietly.

Everyone looked at Asmo.

"I'm sure they'll be fine. I mean, Lucifer would never hurt Hoshiko," Beel spoke certainly.

"I'm less concerned about them hurting each other than I am them destroying the house," Satan spoke just loud enough for only everyone at the table to hear.

"Well Lucifer ain't gonna let us stay home to try and stop it," Mammon pointed out.

Satan sighed. "Yes, I'm aware."

"... maybe we just ask Diavolo to check on them later. Lucifer wouldn't get mad if Diavolo checked on them," Levi suggested.

"That's as good a plan as any. I'll talk to Diavolo when we get to school," Satan told them.

Mammon stood up. "Well... let's get out of here before we get bitched at."

There was no argument from any of the brothers as they all got up and headed out.

Hoshiko was waiting for them at the front door. They held out their arms for hugs.

Asmo was the first to hug them.

"Y'all be good today. Don't get detention or anything stupid like that," Hoshiko told all of them.

"Of course not, my love," Asmo told them as they pulled away.

They each hugged Hoshiko before leaving for school.

Hoshiko watched them leave from the front door, then went to their room to wait out the day.

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18

#the briefest of nudities #barely a mention #but I still want y'all to know #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me levi #obey me mammon #obey me Belphie #obey me mc #my obey me mc #hoshiko higure #cw: nudity #obey me fanfic #my work #my writing

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vrednic · 3 years

Text

favors | collateral damage (pt.3)

Teen Wolf x Vampire Diaries AU

Prompt: Teen Wolf, but with a twist. Scott McCall has a twin sister… and she falls in love with Derek Hale.

Summary: Derek finds himself in trouble, and Scott is nowhere to be found. Will Serena be the one to save the day?

Word Count: 3,026

Author’s Note: I hope you all enjoy part 3! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading :)

*PART ONE*

*PART TWO*

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

Two weeks had passed since my first full moon. Scott and I still weren’t on speaking terms, and we both seemed to prefer it that way. On school days, he’d leave the house early to avoid running into me. We didn’t have any classes together, so that made it easy to stay out of each other’s way at school. He had lacrosse practice most days, and they usually ran late, so by the time he got home, I was already in bed. He had also made things official with Allison, so naturally she consumed every other spare second of his life. Part of me felt immense relief because I was able to delay the inevitable confrontation that we would have to have at some point. However, the other part of me also longed for her best friend. I wanted to blame the full moon for the harsh words I said and the dismissive manner that I treated him, but I couldn’t. It was all me.

Scott was the “It” boy when it came to the supernatural. Someway, somehow, he always found himself in the middle of whatever supernatural crisis threatened Beacon Hills. He was a reliable friend and a fantastic leader in-the-making. I recognized that Scott now held the responsibility to save and protect those who were oblivious to our world, as well as those who were a part of it, but my jealousy obstructed all rational thought. I wanted my brother to be there for me the way he was there for complete strangers; the way he meddled in situations that didn’t even concern him. When he didn’t show up the one time I needed him, the disappointment was simply too much to bear.

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

I was sitting in biology, filling in the bubble for the second to last question of the test we were taking. The room was completely silent except for the swift sound of pencil on paper. I looked up at the clock above the chalkboard, and the hands indicated that there were forty-five minutes remaining in class. I flipped back through the booklet and revised all of my answers. When I was content with all of my responses, I pushed up from my desk and walked towards the front to turn in my test. As I neared the front of the classroom, the smell of blood invaded my nostrils. The scent was too faint to be coming from within the room, so that meant that its source was somewhere on the other side of the classroom door. I finally reached the teacher’s desk and placed my booklet on top of the thin pile of completed tests that were already there. I grabbed a copy of tonight’s homework located on the podium next to the desk, and made my way back to my seat.

As I tucked the homework sheet into my biology notebook, my supernatural hearing picked up the sound of two distinct voices coming from the hallway.

“Where’s Scott McCall?” asked the first voice.

The second person shut their locker, the sound of metal on metal ringing in my ears. They spoke gruffly. “Why should I tell you?”

“Because I asked you politely, and I only do that once.” This time I was able to identify the first voice immediately. It was Derek.

“Hm. Okay, tough guy,” responded the second voice. It was low and laced with arrogance, just like Jackson’s. “How about I help you find him if you tell me what you’re selling him?

There was a pause. Then, “Well? What is it? Is it Dianabol? HGH?”

“Steroids?” responded Derek, his tone unimpressed.

“No, Girl Scout cookies,” scoffed Jackson. “What the hell do you think I’m talking about? Oh, and, by the way, whatever it is that you’re selling, I’d probably stop sampling the merchandise. You look wrecked.”

There were a few counts of silence. I closed my eyes and focused my hearing, not wanting to miss a single word.

“I’ll find him myself,” said Derek at last.

“No, we’re not done here!” growled Jackson. There was a sound of movement, and then I heard a body slam up against the lockers. I heard Jackson’s soft groans of discomfort as Derek walked away, his feet dragging slightly as he did.

I knew that it was none of my business, but curiosity got the best of me. I got up from my seat and walked swiftly, but subtly, towards the teacher’s desk.

“Can I use the bathroom?”

Mrs. Grey stopped typing at her computer long enough to peer up at me through her glasses. “Sure, just take the--”

“Great, thanks!” I said, wasting no time to rush out into the hall. Jackson was leaning against a row of lockers on the opposite side of the hall, clutching the back of his neck. I smelled blood on him, but the scent didn’t match up with the one from earlier. We made eye contact for just a moment.

“What the hell are you looking at?” he snapped at me.

I shrugged.

I looked down both ends of the hall, but Derek was already gone. Luckily for me, he left a trail of blood in his wake. I followed the scent past the double doors that led to the soccer and lacrosse fields. I walked onto the middle of the grass and scanned my surroundings. At first glance, both fields seemed empty, but the scent was still present. The only problem was that I could no longer pinpoint which direction it was coming from. The wind had picked up, so now the scent seemed to be coming from everywhere. I decided to move my search onto the perimeter of the field. I checked under the bleachers, by the concession stands, and in the bathrooms, but there was still no sign of Derek. I let out a sigh of frustration and began walking back to the school.

I stopped mid stride when I thought I saw movement from the corner of my eye. I turned, and my breath caught in my throat. Derek was slumped against the side of the storage shed, thick black blood dripping down his left arm. There was a pool of it right beside him growing by the minute. His face was pale and slicked with sweat, and there were dark grey bags under his eyes. If I didn’t know he was a werewolf with supernatural healing abilities, I’d probably think he was dead. I ran over to him and crouched down to his eye level. His eyes found mine; they were no longer cold, but pleading.

“Scott,” he mumbled. “Find Scott.”

I ignored him and instead examined the bullet wound in his arm. The bullet itself seemed to have melted into his skin, glowing a sickly silver-green color. The area around it was swollen and his veins were turning black, a clear sign of a fast-spreading infection.

“I’m gonna get you out of here,” I told him matter-of-factly. “Whatever it is you were shot with, it doesn’t look good. I need to get you someplace safe so we can find a way to fix this.”

“You need to find Scott,” he repeated, breathless.

“I’ll find Scott,” I assured him. “But after I get you out of here. There’s no way I’m leaving for dead here.”

He looked up at me with those beautiful, tired eyes. He knew there was no point in protesting, so he mobilized every ounce of strength within him and tried to slide up to a standing position. I came over next to him, positioning his good arm around my shoulders, wrapped my arm around his torso, and attempted to begin walking. We made it a few steps before I felt him leaning out of my grasp. I stopped and gazed up at him.

“Okay, big guy. I know I’m a werewolf and all, but I’m still only 5’4. You’re almost an entire foot taller than me, so I’m gonna need you to help me out as much as you can.”

He nodded and we resumed walking. I led him across the field into the student parking lot. I found my car in the maze of vehicles and unlocked the passenger side door. As soon as Derek eased into the seat, I shut the door and came around to the other side. I started the car and pulled out of the parking lot onto the road, heading towards Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital. If we were lucky, traffic would be light at this hour, and we’d arrive in a matter of minutes. Derek looked around alarmingly and reached for the steering wheel. I stomped on the brake to stop us from veering into oncoming traffic.

“Are you crazy?” I screamed at him. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

“You can’t take me to the hospital. Anything they give me could potentially speed up the infection and kill me,” he said. He sounded exhausted, but his tone was firm nonetheless. “That, and the Argents are probably looking for me. I’m sure they’d love to finish me off before the infection gets the chance to.”

I blew out a sigh. “Where am I supposed to take you, then?”

“The animal clinic. Hopefully Deaton hasn’t left for the day. Maybe he knows about something that’ll help.”

I did as I was told and quickly made a U-turn in the opposite direction. I drove frantically, stealing glances at Derek here and there to make sure he was still breathing. His eyes remained closed the entire way, but I found comfort in the steady rise and fall of his chest.

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

Once we arrived at the clinic, my heart sunk. Deaton’s car wasn’t in the lot, which meant we were alone and running out of time. I retrieved the spare key from behind the dumpster and hauled Derek inside, leading him to one of the nearest chairs so he could sit while I called Scott. I patted my back pocket for my phone, but it wasn’t there. I ran out to my car and searched the floor and seats for its location, but it was futile. I must have dropped it in the field while I was carrying Derek to my car. I sprinted back inside, where Derek was clutching his arm in agony. I brushed the hair from his forehead gently, which caused him to open his eyes.

“I lost my phone,” I admitted nervously. “Do you have yours?”

He shook his head. “I lost it last night after I was shot.”

Great, just great.

I stopped for a moment to collect myself. After my moment was up, I left the room to find Deaton’s office. I turned on the light and waited a moment so my eyes could adjust. When they did, I found the office phone sitting right by his computer. I picked up the phone and dialed Scott’s number. It rang for several seconds, and just when I thought the voicemail was going to cut the call short, I heard someone pick up on the other end.

“Hey, Doc,” Scott answered. “Is everything okay?”

“Scott,” I said. “You need to get to the animal clinic now. Derek’s dying.”

There was a momentary pause of confusion. “Serena? Why are you calling me from the clinic? What’s going on?”

I walked back over to Derek and handed him the phone. “It’s Scott.”

“Listen to me carefully,” said Derek. “You need to get me the bullet, or I’m as good as dead.”

“What are you talking about? What bullet?” I heard Scott say.

I paced around the room, trying to keep my anxiety in check. I wasn’t entirely sure why I felt so affected. It’s not like Derek and I were friends. So why did the thought of him dying suddenly seem so unbearable? I could no longer stand to look at Derek. The infection was running its course, eating him from the inside out. He had begun to resemble a rotting corpse. I turned my back to him and focused my attention to the desolate road outside the window, trying to flush out any and all thoughts of death from my mind. I bit my lip, hoping that Scott would walk through the door any second now and save the day, just like he always did.

“Last night when I was looking for Peter… the Argents were there,” Derek explained. “Kate shot me with a bullet laced with wolfsbane. It’s causing some sort of infection that’ll kill me once it reaches my heart. That bullet is the only antidote.”

“Okay, I’m on it. But, uh, do you happen to know what it looks like?” asked Scott.

Derek didn’t reply. I turned around just as he fell sideways onto the floor. The phone slid out of his grasp and across the room. I heard Scott begin to panic over the line.

“Scott, hurry!” I yelled, loud enough so he could hear.

I dropped down on my knees next to Derek and gently patted him on the cheek, urging him to wake up, but he remained unconscious. I pressed my ear against his chest, listening for his heartbeat, but I heard nothing but silence. My own heart hammered in my ribcage and tears threatened to spill from my eyes.

“You’re not dying on me, you bastard,” I whispered, wiping away the tears that had managed to escape from the corner of my eyes.

I placed the heel of my hand in the center of his chest and began doing chest compressions. After thirty compressions, I lowered my lips down onto his, giving him two rescue breaths. I was surprised by how soft and warm his lips felt against mine. I continued administering steady compressions, but there was no sign of resuscitation.

I stopped and stared at his lifeless body. I refused to let him fade away just like that, but I had no idea what else to do. Scott would have figured something out; he always did. But I wasn’t Scott.

I felt so small, so useless.

So defeated.

Derek jerked abruptly, gasping for air. His eyes fluttered open and scanned the room until they met mine. I flashed a small smile and gave his hand a small squeeze of reassurance. I helped him up to a sitting position on the floor.

He tipped his head back against the wall and gave a low groan. “I know you thought you lost me there for a minute, but trust me. I don’t go so easily.”

I managed a soft laugh. “I know.”

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

What seemed like an eternity later, Scott finally strolled through the front door of the clinic with Stiles in tow, holding a small golden bullet in his hand. He crouched down next to Derek, who took the bullet immediately and screwed off the tip to release its contents. He pulled out a lighter from his pocket and lit the wolfsbane on fire. Ignited, it emitted a dark blue smoke, which irritated my nasal passages. I set my discomfort aside and focused my attention on Derek, who gathered the ashes into his hand and rubbed them onto his wound. He let out a sharp roar of pain that lasted several seconds, but he healed almost instantaneously. I let out an audible sigh of relief which seemed to go unnoticed by all the boys in the room.

Scott extended his hand and helped Derek up. He still looked a little worse for wear, but the rosy hue of his cheeks was starting to return. The eyebags were gone, leaving behind the olive green eyes that were once again fixed into a hard stare.

“Glad you’re okay, man. I’ll see you around,” Scott told Derek.

Stiles mumbled under his breath. “Hopefully not anytime soon.”

Derek shook Scott’s hand firmly-- an expression of silent gratitude.

Scott and Stiles walked past me toward the front door. Just when I thought Scott was about to walk out, he turned and walked back, stopping in front of me. He gave me a bear hug and kissed my right temple.

“I’ll see you at home.” He pulled away and walked outside to Stiles’ Jeep. I was about to walk out myself when I heard Derek call my name. I whipped my head around to face him and found him looking at me with those sharp, penetrating eyes. There was an unreadable expression on his face.

“Why did you do it?” He asked me softly.

“Do what?” But I knew exactly what he meant.

“Save me.”

I felt my pulse quicken and my cheeks heat up. I looked down at my feet and cleared my throat. I hated the thought of potentially stumbling over my words after one small sign of attention from Derek Hale. After a few counts I finally mustered up the courage to look up again. He was still staring.

“I never got the chance to say thank you,” I told him. “For risking your life on the night of my first full moon. You saved me.”

He took this into consideration. “Well, I didn’t do it--”

“For me?” I asked. “I know.” I recognized deep down why Derek did what he did that night, but it hurt much more to admit it out loud. “I know that you did it for Scott, and that’s okay. I know his alliance is important to you.”

He opened his mouth to protest. “That’s not what I was--”

I suddenly felt hyper aware of how ridiculous I sounded trying to explain myself to him. The warm, fuzzy feeling of attraction was gone. Instead, it was replaced by a hollow emptiness and a fiery desire to get the hell away from here-- from him.

“A life for a life, Derek,” I stated bluntly. “You saved my life, and now I’ve saved yours. Don’t read too much into it. I was simply returning the favor.”

Without so much as a goodbye, I turned on my heel and walked out into the cold autumn night. Every fiber of my body wanted to look back, to fetch for some sort of reaction, but I couldn’t go down that path. Not with Derek. I knew better than that.

I needed to be better than that.