#and not the weird kind. the kind that’ll let you have a sip of their beer or drive you to the mall | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

belphegor1982 · 2 years

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“The night before we got married, I was so nervous. I came here to see Mr. Miyagi. He sat me down, poured me a cup of tea... and some sake. And we talked about you.”

Amanda’s last evening as a bachelorette with her family (mom, cousin, aunts and uncle) gets a little derailed by nerves. Sometimes you just need some perspective to help you sort everything out.

I’ve had season 5 of Cobra Kai doing cartwheels in my head and stuff to my heart for a month and a half (ish) now, in particular episodes 5, 6 and 10. What Amanda says in 5.06 about her conversation with Mr Miyagi made me wish we could have seen that kind of scene in the show. (and cry. It made me cry, big time.)

So I wrote it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

___________

In the Light of Tea and Sake

Winnetka, San Fernando Valley, 1999

“Well, I think that’s it.”

“That’s it? Really?”

“Yep. Everything on the list.”

Daniel took a sip from his espresso. How he could keep downing coffee at 6PM and still sleep like a log afterward had always baffled Amanda. Especially since he wasn’t exactly short on energy to begin with.

“Wow.”

Amanda took the paper, sliding it closer on the table. The ‘list’ in question was a little chaotic and largely symbolic anyway, but it was something, seeing all those checked boxes in front of various items like Pick up dress from the dry cleaner, Send RSVPs, or Order extra Lambrusco. They weren’t even in the correct chronological order, but every single one was crossed out.

For some reason her heartbeat was very loud in her chest, and she wasn’t sure all of it could be chalked up to excitement.

“We’re getting married,” she said softly, almost to herself.

Daniel flashed her a grin.

“Well yeah, that was the idea.”

“No, I mean… married.”

“That’s… a thing that can happen when two people decide they want to spend the rest of their lives together. You’re not going Runaway Bride on me now, are ya?”

A smile slipped past the tension in Amanda’s chest.

“And miss on the buffet afterward? Are you kidding?”

She was rewarded by a laugh and a cheeky grin, followed by an exaggerated waggle of eyebrows which Daniel was bound to know looked both ridiculous and charming.

Some of the weird tension inside her eased.

God, she loved that man so much.

At least that had never been in question.

“You’re so much prettier than Julia Roberts, anyway,” he said loyally, before adding, “Besides, you know the only thing that’ll be different tomorrow night is that we’re gonna be wearing a ring, right here.” He pointed at his left ring finger. “The ceremony’s just an excuse to get everyone we love together for once. Once that’s out of the way we’ll all stuff ourselves with great food, and dance, and we’ll have a great time. Oh, that reminds me – give me the list, I just thought of something –”

Food, dance, and all their loved ones in one place. Amanda couldn’t help but smile at the mental picture. Sure, when you put it that way, it all sounded so simple. Daniel had a gift for making complicated things sound simple, or at least straightforward.

But this shouldn’t be complicated, should it?

Except… Maybe it should. It was one of the biggest decisions of her life, after all, right up there with deciding to swap Ohio State for UCLA almost at the last minute and move halfway across the country. Talk about a leap of faith. At least she’d had Aunt Pat, and Jessica on holidays sometimes.

So. Maybe a few jitters were only natural.

She put her chin in her hand, letting her shoulders sag, and gazed at the man seated near her at their kitchen table. He was scribbling his last-minute entry on their list with the earnestness he usually reserved for tasks like writing letters or trimming bonsais. Things he loved doing.

Amanda smiled softly into her palm, almost despite herself.

“What are you adding?”

“Nothin’ important, just a couple of ideas for the music. You know, in case the DJ goes through his entire playlist and decides to take requests.”

“It’s our wedding, babe,” she pointed out. “I’m pretty sure we’ll be allowed a few requests. You know, besides the first song.” She paused. “Although I might have to bribe the guy with cake to get him to play ‘Always’ at some point. Preferably around 11PM when we’re all a little wasted on champagne and I can get you to myself for a slow dance.”

Daniel’s grin came back full force. “Way ahead of you.”

It was the second of the songs he’d added to their Things To Do Before The Wedding list, the first being ‘Desperado’, because he loved the 70s and 80s soft rock he’d grown up with. Besides the Eagles and Bon Jovi, the rest of the songs was pretty eclectic. Amanda was fairly sure he’d thrown in ‘Tutti Frutti’ specifically for his mom to lindy hop to.

With him, probably.

Daniel LaRusso was something of a momma’s boy (the logical result of having been a family of two for so long), a trait which against all odds Amanda found charming. If only Lucille’s attitude toward her didn’t set her future daughter-in-law’s teeth on edge…

Good thing Daniel’s close family didn’t stop at his mother.

Sometimes it felt just a little odd that he and the closest thing he had to another parent essentially called each other “Mister” all the time, like a teacher and his student, but over the years Amanda had learned to hear the terms of endearment behind the honorifics.

When she looked up from the list she met Daniel’s eyes, warm and a little bit wistful.

“Still set for your girls’ night, then?”

“It’s more of a games night, really,” she pointed out. “Besides, my uncle Brian will be there too, so I don’t know if you can really call it a girls’ night. But yes, I’d better get going. Aunt Pat likes everybody to be punctual for big dinners and I’ll be glad to see Jessie again. And mom,” she added as an afterthought, feeling vaguely guilty that it had to be a late addition.

“Okay. Well, enjoy your last night as a bachelorette.”

“Aren’t you gonna tell me to not do anything you wouldn’t do?”

Daniel snorted.

“I think we both know the chances of that are pretty slim.”

“Oh, please. I know you’re a bit impulsive, but surely you couldn’t be that reckless as a kid, right?”

“That depends on where you rank ‘Blowing all my savings on a last-minute passport and round trip to Okinawa’ on your scale of reckless things people can do.”

“Pretty damn reckless, yeah. But in context it was also incredibly sweet, so as far as I’m concerned it doesn’t make the scale.” She leaned in to kiss him, lingering just a bit, hoping he wouldn’t feel just how fast her heart thumped an erratic rhythm against her ribcage. “I’ll see you at the church tomorrow, then.”

“Can’t wait,” said Daniel softly, all shining eyes and earnestness, with no trace of the nerves she realised with a flash of guilt she’d been trying to squash for a while.

No doubt there, no uncertainty. He was one hundred percent committed to marrying her and, like he said, spending the rest of his life with her – like his parents probably would have if his father hadn’t died way too soon.

Amanda had made her choice, wanted that, too, so… Why was she so goddamn nervous?

She turned up the volume on the radio in the car to drown out the question, and resolutely avoided glancing back at the cover bag that contained her dress for the entire drive to Aunt Pat’s Chatsworth house.

* * *

The door opened on Aunt Pat’s beaming smile.

“Heads up, folks, here comes the bride!”

Amanda barely had the time to smile back and say hi before she was engulfed in a warm hug and plied with questions about how she was keeping, and was she excited for tomorrow, and her well-being in general. Aunt Pat was a veritable whirlwind, her love as generous as it was relentless, and in the blink of an eye Amanda was whisked upstairs, hugged welcome several times, and seated on the couch between her mom and her Uncle Brian.

“So good to see you, honey.”

“How are you doing, Mandy?”

God, she’d missed them. But she hadn’t missed being the last guest who inevitably took the spotlight and got mobbed.

Amanda found herself calling on everything she and Daniel had had to learn when they’d started selling cars to and rubbing elbows with North Hollywood royalty in order to mask the anxiety churning dully in her stomach.

(Those people could smell impostor syndrome a mile away, like sharks with blood in the water. You needed the right smile, the right poise, and a self-confidence that could shatter a rock. She’d gotten surprisingly good at it. Daniel was still working out some kinks.)

“Oh, well I –”

“Don’t crowd the poor girl,” exclaimed Aunt Maggie from the staircase. Presumably she’d been the one to take Amanda’s overnight bag and dress upstairs to what had been Jessica’s room once. “Canapés, sweetie? Brian made them specially for you.”

“I know you like ‘em,” Uncle Brian chimed in with fake bashfulness and real pride, handing her the plate.

Amanda picked one – a spinach and goat cheese pastry, nice – and grinned. “Thanks.”

“He’s not the fancy caterer you picked for the wedding reception, but nothing can beat your uncle’s cooking, right?”

“Mom,” said Jessica from the armchair she’d sat in after welcoming Amanda with a brief hug like everyone else, “please. You promised you wouldn’t say anything more about the catering. I’m sure it’ll be great,” she added with a smile in Amanda’s direction. The warmth of it eased a knot that had just started to tense in Amanda’s shoulders.

Aunt Maggie sighed the heavy sigh of the put-upon, but thankfully didn’t protest.

“So, Jessie,” said Amanda swiftly, before more questions or remarks about her upcoming wedding, “how’s Nick? And Holly and Paige?”

“They’re fine,” Jessica said, helping herself to more appetisers. “Nick’s minding the girls tonight.” She laughed. “They’re all psyched up about tomorrow, but I don’t know how much of that is getting to sleep in a hotel or the prospect of hurling flower petals at people tomorrow. We’re gonna have a couple of excited little gremlins on our hands until they serve the cake,” she added with transparent fondness.

Amanda shook her head with a snort. “Sorry about that. If I’d known asking them to be flower girls would create monsters…”

“Don’t worry, they love you and Daniel to pieces. They’ll keep their mischief down to tame levels for your sakes.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Amanda raised the glass of white wine Aunt Pat had just put in her hand and toasted them both.

There was a scoff to her right.

“What, Mom?”

“Nothing, darling, just… I still don’t understand why you’d want to put yourself through all this hassle. I understand wanting a big family reunion, but you don’t need a wedding for that. Do you know just how many marriages end in a divorce these days?”

Amanda had to force herself to take a second to breathe – in through the nose, out through the mouth, Mr. Miyagi’s voice echoing in her head the way it did when she did her yoga while he and Daniel did katas – and attempted to smile. The result felt more strained than what she aimed at. She must really be off tonight; usually her diplomacy game was much better than that.

“Four point one for every thousand Americans1, I know, Mom. You told me. Several times.” At least she still knew the exact amount of warning needed in her tone to make her mother know she was toeing the limits. “But it was my choice. Our choice.”

For a second, Joanne appeared to have a ready argument on her tongue. Fortunately, it was the moment Aunt Pat chose to clap her hands and ask her to help her set the table.

“Oh, and Brian made buckeyes2 for dessert,” she added with a wink at Amanda and Jessica.

The two cousins looked at each other.

“Okay, how many of those do you think can we eat before we realise we no longer fit into our dresses?”

Jessica laughed. “I don’t know, but I like a challenge. Come on, let’s find out.”

Amanda popped one last canapé into her mouth and rose from the couch, taking Jessica’s arm as they went.

* * *

The dinner was excellent.

It was also, at times, endless.

At her best, Amanda cultivated patience like a well-kept garden. Being patient helped when co-running a business. It also helped smooth things out in her personal life. Her couple was a partnership of equals, well balanced, but she’d known from the start her temper was more even than Daniel’s. Each knew to take their turn at patience when the other needed some, though.

So it wasn’t like a few derogatory comments on her life choices and management style were enough to rile her up – not usually, and especially when scattered among casual kindnesses and funny anecdotes. Mrs LaRusso could dish worse than that on a good day. But the timing sucked.

Why couldn’t she seem to stop feeling so worried already?

“Joanne,” said Aunt Pat in a warning tone while they were all helping themselves to dessert, “leave the girl alone. That’s the second time she makes that face, and I don’t like that face.”

Amanda was tempted to point out that, as an almost twenty-nine-year-old with a thriving career, she was more of a woman than a girl, but at this point any kind of lifebuoy was welcome.

“I’m just saying,” said Joanne in a voice Amanda was annoyed seemed to sound much more reasonable than her own, “Daniel’s a good man and I’m sure you’ll be very happy together. It’s the shackling up I don’t get. Everything you own, everything you earn, you’ll have to share – you’ll completely lose your independence. And what if it doesn’t work out in the end?”

“Then you get to tell me ‘I told you so’,” Amanda retorted. The sarcasm came out sharper than she intended. She had to take a second to centre herself. “Look, Mom, can we drop the subject already? I just wanted a nice family dinner, not a re-enactment of the Salem trials.”

Her mother rolled her eyes, but softened.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just want what’s best for you.”

Oh, for…

“So do I, and I’ve been old enough to know what I want for some time now.” Amanda paused as the realisation hit her. “And right now, I think… I think I want to go home.”

There was a shocked silence.

“Oh, sweetie,” said Aunt Pat, startled, “you’re not staying for game night?”

“Sorry, Aunt Pat, not tonight. I’m turning in early. If it’s okay with you I’ll be back here at 9 to get dressed, just after the hairdresser appointment. You know, if the dress still fits.”

The quip fell slightly flat. Her mother looked crestfallen.

“Amanda, honey, I swear I won’t say a single –”

Amanda waved a hand, already feeling calmer for her decision to not stay after all.

“I’m not storming off in a huff, Mom, don’t worry. I just… need my own bed right now. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay?”

To her relief, she was answered by murmurs of assent and sympathetic noises.

One of the perks of being a bride-to-be was that many people expected you to be nervous and irrational, and were more willing than usual to let it go. In hindsight, maybe she should’ve banked on that much earlier instead of doubling down on trying at all costs to come across as chill, efficient and cheerful to everyone but Daniel.

She bid everyone good night, kissed her mother on the cheek (getting an apology hug she’d probably appreciate better tomorrow), and picked up her handbag.

“Sorry about your mom,” said Jessica softly when they were both at the door. “And mine. And Dad. Wow, this dinner was kinda terrible, huh.”

“We’ve had better, yeah,” Amanda conceded with a small smile. “I really would have enjoyed the sleepover, though. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry, we can always take a rain check. I’m sure Daniel won’t mind if I borrow my cousin for a girls’ night out one of these days.” She paused, and rubbed her hand along Amanda’s arm. “Sure you’re gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, Jessie. Thanks. I’m just a little beat right now.”

Jessica peered at her for a few seconds without saying anything, then pulled her into a hug Amanda returned gladly.

When they parted her heart was lighter, though it still beat uncomfortably loud in her throat.

“All right, go get some rest. I’ll save you some buckeyes.”

“And that is why you’re my favourite cousin,” said Amanda with a laugh. Jessica grinned.

“Yeah, I know. See you tomorrow morning, then.”

“Bye, Jessie.”

The lull had done Amanda good. By the time she was behind the wheel of her car, fishing her cell phone from her handbag to send Daniel a text, the tension that had kept building during the dinner was waning a bit. She still felt on edge though, like electricity running just under her skin.

She did want to go home, change into her most comfy pyjamas, and snuggle her boyfriend as if tomorrow weren’t anything special. Maybe pop Ghostbusters into the VCR. They’d watched it so many times over the years the tape was starting to get creases in some places.

But the state she was in right now… Daniel was a perceptive guy. What if he picked up on her nervousness and jumped to the wrong conclusion? Jitters weren’t cold feet, but it was bad, right? Or at least a bad sign?

Amanda flipped her phone closed, buckled her seatbelt… and threw her head back in frustration, hitting the headrest. Ugh. If that little voice in her head could just shut up—

She didn’t send the text, figuring she could surprise her boyfriend – fiancé – and drove off.

She was coming up to Sherman Way when she spotted the bridge over the Browns Canyon Wash in the near distance. Before she knew it, she was turning west toward Canoga Park.

This is probably a bad idea, she thought, but she kept driving.

* * *

Amanda knocked once, then twice, softly enough for plausible deniability that someone was on the threshold at all. The door opened before she could decide whether to stay or leave discreetly while it was still polite.

Mr. Miyagi’s eyebrows went up.

“Amanda-san?”

“Good evening, Mr. Miyagi,” she said, and did a hasty bow after belatedly realising she’d forgotten. “Sorry to bother you at this hour, I just… I…”

He waited until she failed to finish her sentence, then asked with a frown, “Thought you go to family tonight. Everything all right?”

Amanda gave a shaky laugh. “Yes. Well, no. Well, yes, it’s just… This is so dumb. I’m sorry, I’ll—”

“Amanda-san.” His voice was gentler than usual, less gruff. “Want some tea?”

She breathed out, let her tense shoulders sag a little.

“Tea would be lovely, thank you.”

Mr. Miyagi silently stepped aside to let her in.

Amanda went to sit on her knees in front of the low table, her hands in her lap. It felt strange, being there without Daniel. Mr. Miyagi had never made her feel unwelcome, even for a second, but the bond between those two was so obvious it was almost tangible, a living, breathing thing. They shared so many private jokes, and memories, and overall a kind of shorthand to each other that it might have made Amanda feel left out very easily.

She never did.

All it took was Daniel’s voice pulling her back from the sidelines, or Mr. Miyagi’s eyes twinkling as he shared a quiet smile with her, to remind Amanda that there was a place there with them that was just for her.

But she’d never been on her own there before, let alone at ten in the evening.

Mr. Miyagi soon came back with a tray loaded with a steaming teapot and two round cups. Amanda made sure to hold hers correctly, despite the impulse to wrap her fingers around it.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. Mr. Miyagi gave a short nod and sat down, too.

The tea was a good quality matcha, foamy and sweet, the perfect temperature when Amanda dipped her lips into it.

Her evening hadn’t been quiet. It had been frustrating at times, sure, but also full of love and laughter, a familiar brand of chaos as various conversations collided across the dinner table. As she closed her eyes to savour the silence, the heat of the cup, and the flavour of the tea, some of the tension that had made her heartbeat loud and her chest tight seemed to drain away.

The rest of that tension remained in place, but its coils were slightly less taut now.

The little house felt as it always did, cosy and warm despite the early October night outside flirting with the lower fifties. The light-coloured wood walls helped. So did the paper lamps, the rug, and the decorations here and there, testament to a life rich enough to contain several.

A few items stuck out, though. There was a navy blue suit on a coat-hanger, the pants neatly folded over the lower bar. It was flanked with another hanger, over which a white shirt was draped. Hanging around the hook of the hanger was a silk tie with a blue and white flower motif.

The shirt’s wide lapels were a few years out of date, but the ensemble fit together surprisingly well. And retro was in style, anyway.

Amanda smiled.

“Mr. Miyagi, you’re going to look fabulous tomorrow.”

“Good suit. Do all work.” He took a sip from his cup and glanced at her. “Good thing about wedding: everyone look at bride, nobody else. So Miyagi can wear flashy suit, no problem.”

Amanda suppressed the urge to shift uncomfortably.

“Hopefully they’ll be also looking at Daniel. I mean, he’s the groom. And his suit is pretty neat, too.”

“Hai. And Daniel-san look at you whole time.”

This time Amanda’s smile had a touch of heat in her cheeks. He probably would stare a little, at that.

Quiet fell again, so unobtrusively Amanda started when Mr. Miyagi asked, “So. What wrong?”

Amanda drank from her matcha again and gently laid the cup on the table.

“Mr. Miyagi, can I… can I ask you a question?”

Mr. Miyagi gave her a nod.

“Have you ever been nervous, even though there was absolutely no logical reason to be nervous?”

“Miyagi nervous plenty of time,” he said, glancing at her curiously. “Sometimes true reason hidden, only see later. Why?”

“I’ve been feeling… a little weird about tomorrow, all evening. Well, make that all week, now I think of it. And now I’m – I think I’m a bit scared?”

The last word surprised her even as she said it. She had to take a second to think, a little taken aback.

“Which is completely absurd,” she continued with a wave of her hand as though it might hide how self-conscious the admission made her feel. “I mean… It’s a wedding, not some high noon duel. I love Daniel and he loves me – we’ve been living together for four years, for God’s sake. I’m not having second thoughts, I’m just…”

Like earlier, Mr. Miyagi waited patiently until it became clear Amanda would not finish her sentence.

“Nothing wrong with nerves before big day. Natural.”

“I know, but… Look, we’re in 1999. People can choose to not get married and it’s not a big deal, so getting married shouldn’t be such a big deal, either. I mean, my mom just plain told me she didn’t get why I wanted a wedding. She thinks it’s old-fashioned.”

“And father?” asked Mr. Miyagi, pouring a second helping of tea into both their cups.

Amanda downed some of her matcha, licked the foam from her lips, and lowered her eyes.

“I didn’t invite him. We don’t have a good relationship.”

And if that wasn’t a spectacular understatement.

At the beginning, when they were drafting the list of guests, she’d hesitated. Daniel had said, Take your time, honey. It’s your call. I know things are complicated between the two of you. Which was sweet of him, because all he’d had to work from were the bare bones: that Ted Steiner had walked out on his family during Amanda’s last year of high school, that he lived in Boston now, and that neither Amanda nor her mother talked to him more often than a few times a year. Daniel hadn’t pried, hadn’t prodded at sore spots and scar tissue; he had taken what she’d been willing to give and not demanded anything more. Amanda had been ridiculously thankful for it.

Mr. Miyagi didn’t pry, either, nor offer platitudes. He was just there, giving silent support, with neither judgement nor impatience.

Amanda breathed out.

“My dad had an affair when I was a teenager. My mom caught him cheating and… I guess it was the last straw for their marriage. They got a divorce pretty soon after that.”

Mr. Miyagi shook his head ruefully, but made no comment.

“So… maybe that’s part of why I’m scared, you know. I do remember them being happy together, and I think even when that stopped they put up a convincing front for my sake, but… I’m not starting out this marriage thing with the best of examples, you know?

“I mean… Daniel’s parents really loved each other. I don’t really get on with his mom enough to have hearts-to-hearts with her about it, but Daniel’s a big fan of scrapbooks and photo albums and I’ve seen their faces when they look at his dad’s pictures. Perhaps he could have ended up having an affair, or doing something that’d make his family disappointed for some reason, but they’ll never know. They’ll always have these memories of him being a good husband, and a good dad, and that’s all they get to keep, because he’s dead. Meanwhile, my dad lives in Massachusetts with a woman sixteen years younger and he never remembers my birthday. And he blows me off when I call him at ‘inconvenient times’.”

Amanda downed her tea in one go, suddenly wishing for something a lot stronger.

“I didn’t mean to unload on you,” she said quietly, not quite looking Mr. Miyagi in the eyes. “Sorry about that. I think the bottom line is just that I’m scared that even good things go south eventually – someone dies, someone cheats, you know, life happens – and I’ve been trying not to think about that for some time. And now it’s all I can think about. I’ll be fine,” she added, “I think. But the timing is really, really bad.”

“Hm. Timing is what is, can’t change that.” She raised her eyes. Mr. Miyagi drank the rest of his matcha, then climbed to his feet with a slight groan. “Wait here a moment.”

While Amanda worked on swallowing the lump in her throat and blink the sting out of her eyes, he made his way across the room to a cabinet, from which he took a bottle and two glasses.

Not just any bottle, too. This was the kind of sake that always made its way into his cabinet as the winter grew close. The one Daniel said he couldn’t let him drink alone. He’d told her the reason for the yearly bender a couple of years ago, when he and Amanda had first moved in together and he’d come back from Mr. Miyagi’s one November morning with a massive hangover. Since then, grief and outrage fought an endless battle in Amanda’s heart whenever she saw the little hand-coloured photograph in Mr. Miyagi’s bedroom, but she’d never found the right words or the right moment to talk to him about it.

“Oh, Mr. Miyagi, you don’t have to –”

“At-at-at-at. Tea good, but for this? Strong stuff better. Drink.”

He poured two generous drinks and toasted Amanda’s tumbler. The glass went clink.

The wine was light, slightly sweet, with a kick at the end. It seemed to warm her throat and chest from the inside, much as the tea had. She closed her eyes for a second, enjoying the taste. And the kick. She had needed that kick.

When she opened her eyes again Mr. Miyagi was looking straight at her.

“How ridiculous do you think it is,” she asked in a low voice, “being scared of your own wedding?”

He shook his head.

“Amanda-san, in life, always easier to hide head in sand. Admit being scared, though – that pretty brave. You face fear.”

She took a sip from her glass to hide the wry turn of her mouth. “Brave is the last thing I’m feeling right now.”

“What feeling right now, then?”

“Stupid, mostly. And, well. Still nervous,” she added.

“Ah, not stupid. Just young.”

“Not that young.”

“And not that stupid either.” A small laugh escaped Amanda. Mr. Miyagi’s expression softened. “Miyagi… very nervous before wedding. Very young then, and very stupid.”

Amanda held her breath. He had never mentioned his wife to her before.

“Why were you nervous?”

“Daniel-san tell you about first trip to Okinawa?”

Amanda nodded. “He said you’d left your first love there. She was engaged to marry your best friend, and you left so you wouldn’t have to fight him to the death. And win,” she added in a softer voice.

Another time, another place, another world. Arranged marriages and duels of honour – it all sounded like a story, not like something regular people her parents’ or grandparents’ age could have gone through. And maybe at first glance the little old man seated next to her in a khaki button-down did not look like the stuff of stories. But as she had come to know him better, she’d come to know better.

Mr. Miyagi nodded with a smile.

“Hai. Yukie. Very kind, very smart. Very beautiful. Miyagi’s heart… broken, little pieces. Think never love again.

“I come to Hawaii in shame, start working small jobs. Fix carts, fix roads, cut cane in fields. Then… meet Sakiko.”

He stopped for a gulp of sake, then continued in a faraway voice, “And she smart, and kind, and beautiful too. Her laugh was like… sun, here.” He patted his chest. “Each time, little piece of heart come back. One day I ask, Will you marry me? And she not laugh. Say yes.”

Another gulp.

“Luckiest guy on Earth.”

Amanda drank, too, hoping it would make her throat less tight. It didn’t.

“And you were still nervous?”

“Of course. Sakiko was sunshine, I was bum with broken heart! Didn’t believe second chance at love. Too rare. Like, blow it with Yukie in Okinawa then, blow it with Sakiko in Hawaii now, you know?”

Despite everything Amanda had to bite on an unexpected smile. That last bit was definitely a LaRusso contribution to Mr. Miyagi’s English.

“So, what did you do?”

“Marry Sakiko anyway. Say to myself, Must not lose to fear. Love… too precious to be touched by something like fear.”

If Amanda had been seated on a chair, this would have been a perfect time to cross her arms on the table and lay her head on them, if only as a cover for the emotions she could feel rising in her throat. But the table was too low for that. Instead, she took another gulp of sake and leaned forward on her elbows, her whole body slumping even as her mouth wobbled into a smile at the last sentence.

A smile that fell when Mr. Miyagi poured himself another glass and muttered, “This story no happy ending, either.”

He stole a glance through the open door of his bedroom, where he kept Sakiko’s picture and the little box that contained some of his most painful memories. Amanda swallowed, her eyes burning.

“I know,” she murmured. “Daniel told me what happened then. Mr. Miyagi, I am so sorry, that—”

“Eh, long time ago. Not worry.” But his voice was rough, his eyes shining wetly in the dim light of the lanterns. He reached for his glass, downed some of the wine; when he set his glass down Amanda laid a hand on his arm, gently, at a loss for how to convey everything she wanted to.

Somewhat to her surprise, he didn’t pull his arm back.

“Was boy, you know. Little American Miyagi boy, born California. Sakiko wanted American name, like George, Harry. I wanted Kanryō, like father. Sakiko say, Why not both? Many Americans more than one name. Last letter say, Little Kanryō Harry strong, kick hard.”

Mr. Miyagi picked up his glass with his free hand and emptied it in one go. A breath shuddered out of him.

“Miyagi pretty damn lost for a while after. No pick up broken pieces for many years. Too much work.”

Amanda was reluctant to remove her hand, still clasping his arm. She clenched her lower jaw to keep it from trembling and wiped her eyes with the thumb of her left hand.

Mr. Miyagi made for the bottle again, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, his hand flopped on Amanda’s, patted it once or twice, then squeezed.

Then he let go and leaned back, blinking at the ceiling.

“Life, you know. Sometimes work out, sometimes, ah… sometimes not.”

“That’s one way to put it,” said Amanda, her voice thick and echoing around strangely in her head. Mr. Miyagi looked back down again and peered at her.

“Not mean give up on life. Never know what you find next. Like chocolate box.”

Something that might have been a laugh in different circumstances snorted its way through Amanda’s nose. Thank goodness she hadn’t been drinking. Look at the dignified bride, snickered a voice in her head that sounded a lot like her own.

“Did you just quote Forrest Gump!?”

“I watch TV,” Mr. Miyagi retorted with what she could recognise as a rather poor attempt at his usual stone-face sarcasm. Not that she’d dream of calling him out on it. “Good for catchy saying. Sound wise later, when make this face and go hmm. Listen to wise old Miyagi.”

Amanda, flabbergasted, dealing with severe mood whiplash, and maybe just a little buzzed after Aunt Pat’s dinner and half a glass of sake, stared at him open-mouthed for a while until delight started to creep into her face, like a blush. Mr. Miyagi smiled.

“Daniel-san make same face first time figure out karate training. Mouth open, big eyes, ooh.”

“I know that face,” Amanda laughed. “I’ve seen that face. His eyes go…” She made a gesture with all five fingers extended, palm out, and smiled fondly. “He loves to make everyone think he’s got it all figured out. You know, control, balance, and everything. But then something will blow his mind and wham – surprise face.”

“Hai. Good moment. Great fun, too.” Mr. Miyagi picked up his sake again, both his moustache and his glass almost hiding his smile until he realised there was no alcohol left in it. “Miyagi father teach karate since small boy. This high.” He raised his hand at a height Amanda, through her patchy experience with kids, guessed must mean ‘very young child’. “Do kata, blocks, balance exercises. Build good muscle, good reflex, good head. Years to learn. But Daniel-san, only two month training before tournament. Had to trick mind for body build muscle and reflex quickly.”

“And did he have a good head?” asked Amanda, resting her right elbow on the table and her cheek into her palm, smiling at the mental picture.

That smile widened at Mr. Miyagi’s expression.

“Eh… Depend. Hard head, yes. Big mouth. Bit of a handful. Tended to rush into things, not look right, not look left – only forward. Sometimes not even then!” He raised his eyebrows in mock outrage. “And stubborn, like mule. If really no want listen, no listen at all, even Miyagi, even mother!”

He shook his head.

“Good head, yes, sometimes – but good heart, always. Big heart. Bigger than him.”

Amanda had to smile again at that. She and Daniel were the same height; she stood taller than him when she wore high heels, but she’d always been tall for a woman. 5’9 was the average height for a man. He did seem to have twice the average amount of heart, though, which had been one of the things that had drawn her to him in the first place.

“You know,” said Mr. Miyagi as he screwed the sake bottle’s cap back on, “Daniel-san tell me later he was angry when he and mother move here, to California. I understand. Left family, friends. Memories. Tomb father buried. And for place that no want them, no understand them. Funny face, funny accent. Get laugh at, beat up. Don’t know rules here, he say.

“Well, Miyagi know thing or two about Don’t know rules here. He say angry boy now. I see lonely boy then. Polite to old Okinawa fixer guy. Gentle with bonsai. Come down, say, Hey, Mr. Miyagi, can hang out with you tonight? I know mother work late, I know boys with bad attitude in school. I say, Sure, here bonsai clipper. Here story about Okinawa. And then, later, karate training. But even after tournament, still show up. Do kata, help fix house, talk. Talk a lot,” Mr Miyagi added in that special tone of his, dry but for the twinkle in his eyes, “but, er… listen, too. Listen good, for young man who talk so much.”

Amanda smiled into her palm, both at Mr. Miyagi’s words and the guarded but transparent affection in his voice.

“He is good at that,” she murmured, “when he wants to be.”

“Hai. Sometimes forget, but never for long. Love bring him back, always.” He paused. “Even when being bonehead.”

The word made Amanda chuckle silently.

“He really means a lot to you, huh.” Like you mean the world to him, she didn’t say. But then again she was fairly sure she didn’t need to.

Mr. Miyagi pursed his lips in thought. Then gave a short nod.

“Boy lonely when come here. Miyagi… lonely for long time then. Busy life, busy hands, yes. But, er, heart need busy too. Need love to give, to get. Like bonsai; no love, then no water, no help shape and grow. Root go weak. No good.”

His eyes fell on a little juniper on a cabinet – one of the many bonsais scattered here and there, in the house and the garden – and his moustache twitched.

“Then one day Miyagi realise heart get pretty busy, too. Turn out lonely boy with big mouth and hard head, plenty of love to give. When I get letter from Yukie that father dying, he say, I’m coming with you, Mr. Miyagi. Be there for you. And when father die…” He cleared his throat. “When father die, no more wise Mr. Miyagi for a while. No more funny jokes, no more smart sensei. Just little old man alone, full of tears and regret.

“Daniel-san lose father, too. Shared grief with me then, regret, guilt. Kind words, gentle silence. Help pick up broken pieces.”

For some reason this reminded Amanda of her mom taking up yoga after Dad left, like her, so they’d share an activity that was all theirs and help each other through it. Or Jessica spending six months in California after Amanda moved in, just so she wouldn’t be alone in a strange place.

She drank from her sake and smiled into her glass, trying to catch Mr. Miyagi’s eyes.

“That’s what a good family does,” she said softly as she set the tumbler down. “Be there in the good times and the bad.”

“Miyagi not very good family. No see father for forty years.”

“No, but… family doesn’t have to be blood, right? You were there for Daniel and he was there for you. That’s the important thing.”

Mr. Miyagi shot her a side glance.

“True.” His gaze softened. “Once I lose baby boy. Later, I get young man. Not same, but not less.”

And before Amanda could figure out whether she wanted to smile or cry – and if she could get away with blaming it on the sake – he said in a voice that was a lot more like his usual matter-of-fact tone:

“You say Life happen – you right. I say Sometimes work out, sometimes not – Miyagi also right. But life is people, too. And…”

He stopped, as though searching for words.

“Look, important thing about Daniel-san: hot head, kind heart. Always fight for what believe, here.” He put his hand over his heart. “And what Daniel-san believe most is family, friends. Trust. Support in hard times. No walk away from difficult situation – go right toward trouble and say, I make this right. And I think you same, Amanda-san.”

“Mr. Miyagi,” said Amanda in a small voice, putting her chin in both her hands and leaning with her elbows on the table, “if you’re trying to promise me we’ll never have problems, I’m not gonna believe you.”

“No. You will have problems – plenty good couple have problems. But you and Daniel-san, love each other very much. Work through problems. Make good team.” He looked her in the eyes again. “Worth it.”

“I know,” murmured Amanda. “Believe me, I know.”

Fact was, she did know, and she’d known for a long time, way before anxiety had started to whisper inside her brain. She did have doubts, and fears, and insecurities – but never about that.

Maybe sometimes all you needed was someone to lay out the inside of your head for you and show you what was in it. In the light of tea, sake, and good insights, everything became just that little bit clearer.

Mr. Miyagi was smiling.

“So. You better?”

Amanda gave the question some consideration.

“Yes,” she said eventually with a solemn nod, “I’m better.”

“There you go. Power of matcha and nihonshu3. Work every time.”

“Power of a good host, too,” she pointed out, “and a good friend. Thank you, Mr. Miyagi.”

“Ah, no thank me. Want guest room? Is late. And you getting married tomorrow.”

She gave a laugh. “There is that, yeah. But I think I’ll go home. Thanks for the offer, though. And the perspective.”

Mr. Miyagi nodded and started getting to his feet, slower than before. The two glasses of sake and the late hour were taking their toll, like it did on Amanda.

“Thank you for company. Always welcome here. And, er, Amanda-san?”

“Yes?”

He hesitated again, although this time it didn’t look like he was searching for the right English words, but rather bracing himself.

“Next month, fifty-five years since… since telegram. I know Daniel-san come – not like it when Miyagi alone that night.” He cleared his throat. “If you… if you want to come, too… have tea, perhaps drink some sake in memory, then… Would be good. To have you.”

Amanda’s breath caught in her throat.

“I would like that,” she said softly, but with feeling. “I would like that very much. Thank you.”

Silence fell between them, soft and comfortable, a bridge rather than a divide.

When the moment broke, Amanda retrieved her handbag and her coat to leave; but as she went to open the door she let her hand fall and turned back to him.

“Mr. Miyagi?”

“Hm?”

She bit her lip, tasting the remnant of the lipstick she’d put on before leaving her and Daniel’s apartment. It felt like ages ago now.

“I, uh… I’d planned to walk down the aisle alone. You know, there’s a tradition that the father of the bride gives her away, but… well, you know. He’s not… He won’t be there. So.” Heat was rushing in her cheeks and ears which would have been convenient to blame on the sake, but a complete lie. “Would you… come with me? Give me away?”

Mr. Miyagi didn’t answer straight away, and she faltered a little.

“I know you’re already Daniel’s best man, so it’d be a bit irregular, but—”

Mr. Miyagi made a dismissive hand gesture.

“This first American wedding Miyagi go to, not suppose to know what regular or irregular. Good excuse if someone say Oh, can’t do that. But… Important for you?”

“Yes,” Amanda said, the word rushing out of her along with a breath. “Yes, it’d be… it’s important.”

“Then Miyagi honoured to give you away, Amanda-san.”

He bowed, very formal and deliberate. She bowed back in the same manner, careful to keep her eyes on his, smiling warmly.

Her heart finally at peace.

* * *

The apartment was dark and silent when she turned the key in the lock and walked in as noiselessly as she could. She hadn’t let Daniel know she was coming home. He must have gone to bed by now.

The kitchen still smelled faintly of mac and cheese when she passed by the open door.

Daniel’s go-to comfort food.

Amanda smiled fondly. Perhaps she hadn’t been the only one in need of some reassurance tonight.

The feeling was confirmed when she stopped in the bathroom to change into her night clothes. The laundry hamper had gained a couple of additions in a few hours, ie. sweatpants and a t-shirt, though the most telling was Daniel’s headband, carefully set aside to be washed by hand later. His bath towel was damp. He’d definitely been practising something more intense than slow katas and breathing exercises. Sometimes they joked that if they managed to get a bigger place – an actual house, for instance – they might include a dojo just so he wouldn’t have to clear space in the living room to work on his karate.

The shapeless lump under the covers didn’t move when she tiptoed into the bedroom, but as she slipped into bed she heard a mumbled, “Hey, honey. Didja ditch your game night for me?”

“Kinda,” Amanda whispered back, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend. “Turns out I want to spend my last night as a bachelorette with you.”

“Aw. I’m flattered. And hey, who could blame ya.”

Sleepy and slurred as his voice was, the grin in it was unmistakeable. The accent, too. The more tired, angry or emotional he was, the stronger the Jersey came out.

Amanda snorted, and made herself comfortable. It was easy. The texture of the pillowcase, the scent of fabric softener on the sheets, the solid warmth of Daniel as she curled up against him and buried her nose in his hair – it was all familiar, reassuring. None of that would change tomorrow, or next week, or next year. And the changes that would come – their joint career plans, getting a house, having kids one day – they would face or embrace together.

Daniel shifted until he had his arms around her, too.

“You okay?” he murmured.

Amanda looked at him in the dim light filtering through the blackout curtains, closed eyes barely visible through the tousled dark hair flopping across his forehead.

“Yeah.” Quiet, heartfelt. Nothing stirred in her chest except the usual affection. “You?”

“Mhm-hm. Quiet night. Glad you’re here.”

Not a word about working out through possible anxieties. Daniel hated to make people worry. It was both an endearing quality and a frustrating flaw of his.

One breath, two, three, each longer than the last before his voice came again, barely audible.

“Still on for tomorrow?”

“It’s a date,” she whispered, and he let out a silent laugh. With possibly some relief in it. Amanda was too sleepy to tell for sure.

They fell asleep intertwined, arms and legs in a tangle, like any other night.

___________

1In 1999. (of course I checked ^^’) I don’t know about now, though.

2A candy made of peanut butter fudge partially dipped in chocolate originating from Ohio.

3Aka sake.

___________

💜

Please drop a comment if you like! I’m Belphegor on AO3 and the fic is at archiveofourown.org/works/42425775, except I can’t make the link clickable because then the post probably won’t show up in the tag. (dammit, Tumblr.) I’ll put a clickable link in the replies.

#cobra kai #karate kid #fanfiction #my stuff #I have a lot of feelings about this okay

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slashingdisneypasta · 2 years

Text

Jim Bickerman x Reader || Drabble

Plot: Reba tells you that Jim was killed this time- but then he comes home.

Warnings: Character no one cares about from a movie series nobody likes?? 😅 References to gore and wounds (Very lightly), and sexual references. Also? Unedited.

“He… what?” You almost don’t even believe it, even as Reba stands on your porch and tells you what happened; That Jim fell off a boat at Black Water and they haven’t seen him since. “Were you… there?”

She lets out a slow sigh like a cowboy, broken and weary after everything she’s been through, and shakes her head. “No, but I’ve got it from sociopath that she caused it, and she’s got no reason to lie, so... ”

Nodding back, feeling weird and… bad, really bad… you keep thinking for a moment. He can’t be dead, can he?? No way. He’s been attacked by crocs before, he lost a leg and an arm and an eye, he looks like one of Sid’s creations in Toy Story with how many different parts he had nailed into him, but he survived, so there is no fucking way that in the end a crocodile still got him!… It’s not fair. And that’s just the tip of the unfairness, here! You shouldn’t have even liked him in the first place. If you had listened to your first official opinion of him, that he was a handsy old bastard, then you wouldn’t care right now about any of that and you wouldn’t be feeling like your legs are about to give out under you. But you didn’t, and now- “Um, Reba I’m gonna close the door now. Cuz I’m gonna fall apart. Thank you, though, for um… telling me… “

“Yeah. I mean- no worries. Thought you might wanna know… ” Reba steps back, as if to let you close the door but continues to watch you cautiously- there’s a frown on her face but you know she’s worried. “Look, Y/N, do you want me to stick around? I’m not a great cook but I could whip us up dinner?- “

“Thanks,” Your eyes are tearing up pretty heavily now, and you are not about to cry in front Sheriff Reba so you just waive, and close the door in her face. Then, taking a deep breath in a last-ditch attempt to calm yourself, you lean back against the door and just blink; Hoping it’ll make the tears go away. It doesn’t help though, and before Reba’s ignition even turns on, you’re sobbing into your hands.

You wake up later in the middle of the night because you thought you heard a knock at the door, but when you listen out there are no more sounds, so you assume you imagined them. You can’t go back to sleep, though, so you slowly get up from the bed and run a hand through your hair. Because of that you immediately see the old flannel of Jim’s that you’re wearing, and groan.

That’s just great. Absolutely super.

Still, you don’t take it off; Just wrap it more securely around yourself as you make it gradually, heavy with sleep and a brain stiff from crying earlier, to the kitchen. There, you keep holding the flannel around yourself with one arm while picking up the kettle with the other and putting it into the sink before twisting on the water. You need a cup of tea… and maybe half a bottle of his bourbon… or what used to be his, you suppose.

Sighing, you make a new vow to try and not think about things as ‘his’ anymore- at least tonight. Its too awful, thinking he’s not coming back for any of it. So, this is just a ratty flannel and the bottle in your hand is just some bad alcohol.

… Yep. That’ll work. Already you feel so much better. Rolling your eyes, you tiredly pick up the kettle again and set it back on the bench to heat the water, before finding a clean mug and pouring the gross brown liquid inside.

As you lean back on the bench and take a sip, feeling the stuff burn all the way down your throat, you hear a knocking at the front door again.

Its kind of weak, but enough to raise your suspicions. Frowning, you set the mug down on the bench and set off towards the door. You peak out the window but its too dark to tell who it is, so you grab the nearest rifle (Stuffed in the umbrella bin) and unlock the door… before slowly opening it.

The sight before your eyes is immediately shocking, and gruesome. “J- Jim!?”

He’s leaning heavily on the doorframe, hunched over, dirty, covered in blood and looking as if he could fall over at any second. “Let me in… heh… I’m dying here… “

Without asking questions you rush into action, helping him to ease off the doorframe (Ending up with almost his entire weight on you), and taking him to the couch which - luckily, - is close by in this two-room shack the two of you live in. Then you grab the first-aid kit and get to work.

~ 2 hours later Jim’s clean, changed, and half his body is wrapped up in gauze (Luckily, there was recently a sale at the chemist. Honestly, Jim should be thanking all his lucky stars at this point. How does he keep surviving like this??) but he’s sitting up somehow, despite getting mauled by a croc for the second time and walking all the way back home. You’re drinking tea with him, sleeves rolled up still from saving him a second ago, playing with the teabag nervously, but you’re far too silent and he can tell somethings obviously wrong.

After a few moments of pleasant quiet, he sighs and sets his own teacup down on the coffee table. “We got anything stronger than this? - “

“No- “You snap, bursting like a party popper. “I used the rest of your stash to disinfect your crocodile bites. How are you alive!???”

“Now, I thought you’d be happier about it.” Jim jokes, dropping his hand on your thigh- and you glare at him, because this is not the time to be ‘cheeky’. It makes him huff out a sigh, dramatically, and moves to pick up his tea again. “Alright.”

“I am.” You assure, letting the tension out of your face so he can see how relieved you are. Then you tell him again- “I am, really. I just… I don’t understand… Reba said you were dead?”

Chuckling, he shakes his head. “I’m a hard bastard to kill, you know.”

Is that… the only answer? You feel like there should be more. Some good reason why you’ve almost lost him twice and he’s still come back, some assuredness that it won’t happen again or if he does nearly get killed again then he’ll come home again just like this. Does he have some kind of secret weapon? Can he talk to crocs?? You would believe anything he told you, now. Just for the hope. “… that’s all??” But if its just that he’s lucky, then… well, you can’t bet on lucky!! You can’t trust it! Luck can run out-

“Yep.” He takes a sip of the hot tea, and your shoulders drop.

‘Yep’. That’s it??

Jim takes notice of the crestfallen look on your face, and sighs; Setting down his tea again in favour of patting your knee this time. “Hey- I won’t be goin’ anywhere near that lake again, if that makes you feel better.”

Glaring, you straighten up and tilt your head at him. “… do you promise?”

“Yeah, I don’t need anymore chunks taken outta me. I’ll just hit the gym if I surpass my ideal weight, this time. Promise.” Despite the joking way that he promised, you find yourself believing him and take a deep, relieved breath.

“… okay.”

“Alright,” He gives a grin that’s almost gentle, and almost incorrect on his rough face- before he switches back to the regular suspicious, cheeky smirk. “But I will require incentive to stick around, you know. Y’think you can help out with that, princess?”

“Ughhh… “Reaching over, you take bunches of his shirt in your fists and shake him, gently; Affectionately. “Yeah, I think I can do that… “Because yeah, he’s frustrating and opportunistic and vulgar but you kind of love the old bastard.

His grin only widens. “Really??”

“Yeah, but there are ground rules. You have to be very careful, you’re delicate.”

“Psh, whatever. I’ll be right back.” Using a rifle as a walking stick, Jim gets up from the couch and starts hobbling over to the kitchen (*cough* for his boner pills *cough*).

“You need help?” You call, finishing your tea on the couch.

“No, no, no, I’m fine.” He huffs back, and you roll your eyes. Then turn your head as you set your finished tea down, to see him the kitchen doorway looking around. A little smile warms onto your face, just so glad that he’s alive. “Hey, we do so have bourbon here. You lyin’ to me?- Oh, hi-”

As he turns around, he finds you right behind him just before you throw your arms around him and hug him tight. Stupid old bastard, you think, closing your eyes and just appreciating him there, alive, under your hands. The smell of his soap and blood, the feel of his bear on the side of your face, and the sound of his breathing… God, you’re so damn relieved. You’re never letting him anywhere near those crocodiles ever again.

#Jim Bickerman x Reader Drabble #Jim Bickerman x Reader #Jim Bickerman #Lake Placid #Lake Placid; The Final Chapter #Lake Placid Vs Anaconda #SO self indulgent.

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hearsayhorizons · 3 months

Text

A Gift for Spiders-Man

On infinite earths, in infinite universes, it still surprises “him” when—cast adrift during some interdimensional battleworld event—“he” finds this one.

The first time “he” bursts into spiders to traverse a wall and save a citizen from a mugging, she doesn’t scream, not at “him.” Not when “he” webs up the crook. The mugger bursting into flies—that’s new, and exciting to parts of “him” that the Parker memory doesn’t like to think about.

But the victim doesn’t run even when “he” swarms back to “himself” after—after the meal.

“I just killed someone,” “he” says. He’s staring at the jittery stacks of arachnids that make up his hands.

“He was already dead,” the mugging victim says. “I wouldn’t choose flies, but I guess—it’s not always a choice. I guess they found him.”

And that’s a trip, a real trip, and results in fumbling “his” mask-spiders. She doesn’t seem to recognize Peter Parker, and that’s good. The two (two-and-many?) of them tuck themselves away in a little cafe where she orders a coffee and “he” gets some kind of pouch full of fluid—Peter Parker won’t think about it, but it’s really good in a way most food isn’t anymore, since the—loss? Takeover? It’s like a weird Capri Sun, and that makes him a little homesick, or nostalgic. “He” mostly can’t eat anymore because “his”—bodies—can’t eat the way “his”—mind—wants to, but this seems to be tailor-made for “him.” Them.

Her name is Nita and her father is a nest of carpenter ants.

Out of providence (or, or maybe this is all a self-delusion but he/they’ll let it last as long as he/they can)—it’s actually typical for people here to give their dying or dead bodies to insects, and for those insects to carry forward the consciousness of their... victims? Donations?

“Sometimes they use it as an opportunity to tidy up their loose ends, and say their goodbyes,” Nita says. “Butterflies of whatever kind are popular for that. Let them sip up the blood and three weeks later you’re dissipating for good. Some people—my dad—know what they want with their life and want to keep doing it.” Nita tilts her hand back and forth. “I’ve never put much thought into it, me. Maybe I’ll lay down in a milkweed field and go with the monarchs. I always wanted to see Mexico.”

She tilts her head. “Why’d you go with spiders? And—are the heroics your last hurrah, or your path forward?”

And that is a conversation for a few more coffees, and pouches. What comes out is a tangled web of narrative, and guilt, and loss and despair at his home dimension.

He/they’re used to people staring. He/they’re used to fear, disgust, and pity from Peter Parker’s loved ones. This is like—this is like when he overheard a guy admit to someone in sophomore year that he didn’t have his own bed, his own stuff, until he escaped to the dorms. How a pillow he chose, as many blankets as he wanted, were better than he ever imagined. And Peter took it for granted, until he heard that. And now he has a body that no longer sleeps that way at all.

Nita’s face says she was taking this weird afterlife for granted. And she—she actually rests her hand, gently, on the carapaces and seething shapes that “Peter” has shaped like hands.

“Hey,” she says. “You can stay here. I imagine going back might be the hard part. You can stay here, and—my dad and I can help you with a memorial for Peter Parker, if you like. And you can dissipate, or you can keep saving people’s purses. But that’ll be your choice, in a place where either choice is valid.”

He/they aren’t sure whether the other heroes involved in the latest battleworld fiasco make it home, and for a little while, they don’t care.

Gwen Stacy is dead here, too, but her dragonflies have kept on going; she’s an engineer with a focus on structural safety. Her bugs get along with the spiders well enough.

#marvel #marvel au #spiders-man #spider-man #body horror #tw: body horror #fanfiction #hearsay horizons

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jessikahathaway · 3 years

Text

Baby Talk - Part I

Hellooooo!

I've had this in my WIPs for a while and I wanted to get some of it out so that you all could enjoy it! Let me know what you think and if you want more??? Tag lists are open for all of my ongoing fics so if you want to be added just let me know!

Please enjoy!

Pairing: Jikook X Reader (Jimin X Reader X Jungkook)

Genre: Surrogacy!AU, Polyamorous!AU, Romance. (Future Smut)

Warnings: Medical Procedures, Assault (not descriptive), Profanity. If I forgot anything please let me know!

Words: 11.3k (Phew chill Jess~)

This wasn’t a big deal, you thought to yourself as you signed the paperwork in the clinic.

Just, you know, getting artificially inseminated for money. Nothing weird about that right?

Becoming a surrogate wasn’t something you’d planned on in your life, mainly sticking to your job and working towards a better tomorrow or whatever they say.

You were young, healthy and full of life.

The only thing you lacked, was a full bank account.

The realization hit a little harder than you thought it would. Being a receptionist wasn’t exactly what you’d had planned for your life but, it was simple work and it made you happy.

Going to college wasn’t really ever an option for you anyways. Your parents had died in an accident when you were little, forcing you to go live with your Great Aunt until you turned eighteen. She hadn’t forced you out, but you did leave. Wanting the adventures that life had to offer.

However, you quickly realized that it wasn’t easy pickings out in the world. That’s when the notice came to the door of your apartment that you either paid your late rent in full by the date or you could get your ass out.

Fear trickled down your spine at the thought of being homeless. You briefly thought of going back to your Aunts but, she lived out in the country and the city is where you’d made your home. As much as you cared about her, it just wasn’t going to happen.

That’s when your friend Namjoon and his husband Jim invited you over for dinner.

You were beyond excited, because these two had just had their baby girl Annie.

They had used the local fertility clinic to get a surrogate and had their baby just a month prior. You had been dying to meet the little bundle ever since you heard the news they were having a baby.

God, that kid was going to be spoiled rotten.

Quickly, you had gone over and enjoyed a nice meal with the three of them. Annie still partaking in formula.

You had tried to make conversation, but your eyes kept wandering to Annie and her little hands and feet. You felt a slight clench in your chest at the sight of her round face and sweet eyes.

“Earth to Y/N? You doing alright?” Namjoon’s voice echoed through their lovely, luxe apartment.

“Y-Yeah! Fine, I’m fine,” you smiled.

“You sure?” Jin asked, getting up to take his and Namjoon’s plates to the kitchen.

“Mhmm,” you said, eyes glancing back over at the baby.

“You’re so whipped, Annie has claimed yet another victim,” Namjoon snickered, looking at the blissful gaze your eyes had taken.

“You ever want kids, Y/N?” Jin asked, coming back in with dessert for each of you.

“I guess so, I mean. Just gotta find someone to make the baby with,” you joked half heartedly.

It was no secret among your friends that you were the black sheep. Not dating, not even entertaining the notion of having a significant other. The idea was, honestly, draining.

“Don’t feel like you have to be married to have a kid, Y/N. Single parenthood is just as valid as a couple,” Jin reminded.

“I’m nowhere near financially stable enough to pop out a kid right now,” you sighed.

“No? I thought the job at the hotel was treating you well,” Namjoon said.

“Yes and no, they treat me well. But pay me next to shit... I-I gotta make some quick cash, or I’m gonna be homeless,” you whispered.

“What?!?” The two men shouted, looking at you with heartbreak in their eyes.

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell us you were struggling! We could’ve done something!” Jin says, rubbing his face with frustration.

“No-No! It’s fine, I’ll figure it out! I always do,” you encouraged, trying to keep the fear out of your eyes.

“How far behind on rent are you?” Namjoon asked.

“A little under six grand,” you sighed.

“Y/N!” Your two friends looked distraught.

“I don’t understand how a society can function like this, I hate it,” Namjoon said, looking down at his dessert he no longer wanted.

Annie started fussing, kicking her feet and wanting attention.

Jin sighed and got up, taking his beautiful daughter with him. You and Namjoon sat in cold silence for a while. Neither of you willing to talk to the other.

You were too proud for your own good. Even if it meant crashing and burning, you’d do that before you took anyone’s pity.

“How can we help?” Namjoon asked, looking at you with so much worry.

“I really don’t know Joon, there’s no where that’ll give me that kinda money with my credit and... even if they did I couldn’t pay it back anyways,” you sighed.

“Have you thought about going to school for something? Maybe you can get a degree and, I don’t know I’m pulling at straws here,” he said.

“I can’t go to school Joon, with what money? And even worse, I wouldn’t know what to go into,” you said, swallowing down some more wine.

“I wish we could’ve had you surrogate for us. We paid that woman a small fortune. Had I known you were struggling I would, maybe you could’ve done it instead,” he said quietly.

“How much did you pay her?” You asked.

“Around $80,000,” he said, shrugging.

You choked.

“Damn you filthy rich kids,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

“That’s it!” Namjoon said.

“Huh?” You asked, looking at him in confusion and despair.

“You can’t be our surrogate, but you could be someone else’s!”

Your body ran cold at the thought.

“I-I don’t know if I could do that Joon,” you said.

“Doesn’t your family have a high chance of twins?” He said, looking at you with a smile.

“I mean, yes but-”

“Say no more. I know a couple that’s been dreaming of a baby. They actually were supposed to meet the woman who wound up being our surrogate. But she decided to go with us. Jimin and Jungkook, they’re really good people Y/N,” Namjoon said, smiling.

“Namjoon, I don’t know if I can have a stranger’s baby!”

“I mean I won’t force you to sign up or anything. But Jungkook and Jimin are really good guys who have been waiting forever to have a baby. They said they wanted twins but, most importantly they wanted a healthy child. How sweet is that!”

You worried your lower lip with your teeth. This was just ridiculous. There’s no way you’d be able to do it. No way.

“Let me show you a picture of them!” Namjoon said, pulling out his phone.

“Joon really-”

Although, before you could argue anymore, you saw their faces.

A smaller, blond man. Whose smile was brighter than any star. And a taller, lean brunette who looked at the camera with a goofy grin.

“Jimin is the blond, Jungkook is the brunette,” Namjoon explained.

“Okay?” You said, trying to calm your racing heart.

They were both handsome. Deathly so, it made your stomach clench in a weird way to look at them. You wondered what kind of babies they would make. If they had that smile Jimin was packing, no one would be safe. That child would get whatever it wanted.

“I’m just saying, it doesn't have to be them but they’ve wanted a baby for so long and... you could help them with that and get a lump sum of cash on the side. Bad a bing bad a boom! No worries!”

It wasn’t such a hard decision in the end.

You needed the money.

So walking into the clinic had this weird sense of finality to it.

The receptionist looked at you with a smile.

“Hello dear, how can I help you?” She said.

“I-uh, wanted to sign up to be a potential surrogate?” You said, wringing your hands together.

“Of course! Did you bring your medical records and things of the like?”

You nodded quickly, handing over the required paperwork. She clicked away on her keyboard and got you all signed up and ready to go. Soon, you were getting your preliminary check up to see if you were able to have children.

Although your period had some irregularities in the past, the doctor’s said it was probably due to stress and the balancing out of hormones. But it would all work out, you were healthy and fertile!

You managed to tell Namjoon that you signed up without him having a full blown heart attack.

“How long until you need to be out of the apartment?” He asked, sipping his coffee.

“I need to be out in three weeks,” you said softly.

“Well shit you’re kinda on a time crunch there sweets, but don’t worry, you can do it! I’ll let Jimin and Jungkook know that you signed up, they’ll want to meet you. I know it,” he said.

“Namjoon, it’s okay. I don’t care who I surrogate for, as long as it’s soon,” you said, trying to keep your heart rate under control.

“Okay, but Y/N, I’m telling you. They’d be the perfect fit for you!” He said.

You said your goodbyes before hanging up the phone. The days to come would be challenging no doubt.

—

You were rather popular at the fertility clinic it seemed, because you’d had three meetings already.

One was a couple that had been trying for years and it just wasn’t happening so they were resorting to a different method. Although for this one they wanted to do an egg implantation. You weren’t sure you wanted to do that.

Another was an older couple who looked like they were just planning on having kids but their own clocks ran out.

But finally, you got one more call from the clinic.

“Miss Y/N, you’ve got another request for a meeting,” the receptionist on the other line said.

“Oh? With whom?” You asked.

“A Mr. Park Jimin and a Mr. Jeon Jungkook, they asked for you personally,” she said, tone light.

You almost spit out your drink.

Th-They had asked for you?

The fertility clinic was big, a huge database of surrogates and people willing to conceive for the right price.

But they had asked to meet you.

Personally.

“Miss Y/N? Still there?” The receptionist asked, sounding far away from you.

“Yes! Yes I’m here,” you said, coughing.

“Wonderful, they said if you were willing they’d like to treat you to a meal, of course I can’t give out your contact information without consent from you but if you’re willing to meet with them we can arrange this.”

You heard yourself agree before even thinking about it.

Soon, you were on your way to the higher end of town. Heading towards a good Korean Barbeque place that was notorious for having the best meat in town.

Walking in you looked around, noticing how luxurious the place was. It made you feel a little out of place to be honest. But, not letting that get to you the host came up and asked for your name.

“Miss Y/N, ah yes. You’re with the Jeon party, lovely. Come right this way,” he said, taking you back into the bowels of the beast it seemed.

Winding through tables and chairs you found yourself in front of a private room. You didn’t want to think about how much this cost, so you simply just let your mind wander to other fun topics.

Such as the fact that you were potentially meeting your surrogate partners.

“Mr. Jeon? Mr. Park? A Miss Y/N is here for you,” the host said, through the door.

“Let her in,” a higher pitched male voice said.

You bit your lip and waited as the door opened. You looked inside and saw a beautiful wooden table, laid out with the finest meats and other various types of noodles and food. Then, there was the other feast, one for your eyes.

Park Jimin was a smaller man, but so incredibly handsome it made your head swirl. His soft blond hair tucked under a beanie as he looked up at you with what could only be called wonder. He looked at you gently, a small smile making its way to his lips.

Jeon Jungkook was a different story. Lean but cut, tiny waist accentuated by his pants. His arms were strong looking and one was covered in tattoos. His hair was pulled away from his face in a precious man bun that made your heart stutter. His eyes were big and glassy, looking at you. As if breathing you in.

“Hi,” you said quietly. “I’m Y/N.”

“We know,” Jimin said with a gentle smile.

“Come, sit down,” Jungkook said, moving a chair out for you to sit.

“Okay,” you agreed, moving to sit down.

“Get whatever you want,” Jimin encouraged, handing you the menu politely.

“Thank you,” you blushed, trying to not faint with his eyes on you like that.

Ordering a few things for yourself the three of you sat there with awkward silence filling the space. Jungkook wouldn’t really look at you and Jimin seemed like he was too nervous to start.

“So,” you said, clearing your throat. “How long have you two been together?” You asked, trying to sound cheerful.

“Five years,” Jungkook said, placing his hand over his glass.

“Oh wow, congratulations,” you said, rubbing your hands on your thighs.

“Thank you,” Jimin breathed.

“Our friend Namjoon said you were kind of in a tight spot and needed some help financially, is this true?” Jungkook asked, finally glancing your way.

“Y-Yeah, I wish he wouldn’t just tell other people that but, no sense in denying the truth. I’m almost six grand behind on rent,” you sighed, rubbing your face.

Both of their faces fell, looking at each other in worry.

“It-It’s okay though! I’ll be okay, I always am,” you said, trying to keep your tone light.

“It’s okay to be scared, Y/N, I would be scared shitless if I were you,” Jungkook said, taking slow drinks from his glass.

“Yeah,” you sighed, trying to avoid the stinging in your eyes.

“What do you do for work?” Jimin asked, trying to keep the conversation from turning to dark.

“I’m a receptionist at the local hotel. It’s not much, but I really like it,” you said, a grin taking place on your face.

“Hey, if you like it then that means something,” Jimin encouraged.

“So, you two want to have a baby?” You said, trying to get down to the topic at hand.

“Yes, more than anything,” Jimin said, a wistful look crossing his face.

“That’s amazing, to love each other that much and want to build a family is... Super important,” you said, meaning every word.

“What does your family do, Y/N? Do they live here in the city?”

You awkwardly rubbed your hands together.

“Um, my Great Aunt lives out in the country. But, my parents and most of my other relatives have passed on,” you said, trying to hide the emotion that came up.

“Oh, so sorry for your loss,” Jungkook said, face pinching.

“It’s okay, it was a long time ago,” you whispered.

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” Jimin argued.

“You’re right, but, it’s okay,” you said.

“So, you have a high chance for twins,” Jungkook said, looking at some papers you didn’t notice were on the table.

“Yes, my mother was a twin. It runs way back in my family,” you said.

“Jimin has a good chance of having twins as well,” Jungkook said, gesturing to his loving partner.

“I do I do,” he said with a grin.

“Do you two want a set of twins?” You asked.

“It’s preferred but not necessary. As long as we get a baby, that’s all that matters,” Jungkook said.

Soon, the food was delivered and Jungkook and Jimin insisted on cooking the food for you. Something about not stressing you out too much.

After a full meal, you leaned back and let your head fall comfortably. Jimin and Jungkook exchanged a glance at each other.

‘She’s the one,’ Jimin mouthed.

Jungkook smiled and nodded back.

“Thank you for the meal, I really do appreciate it. I haven’t eaten like that in months,” you said.

“Well, if you want to have our baby, we would gladly provide you with all the food you could want,” Jimin said.

“T-That’s alright, it wouldn’t be necessary-”

“Yes it would, Y/N. If you carry our child that means we’re responsible for you, everything you need or want will be yours. We swear,” Jungkook said.

“Right,” you swallowed thickly.

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” Jimin asked.

“I-I’ve never really been one for dependence on other people. You know? I like to do things myself if I can,” you said.

“Well, we wouldn’t force you to do anything of course but, if you did want or need anything, we would be more than happy to provide you with it,” Jungkook said.

“Thank you, that’s very sweet,” you said.

“You’d be carrying our child,” Jimin said as if it were obvious.

“Of course,” you said softly.

“Hey, if you don’t want to do this then don’t feel pressured. Don’t let money be an object in what you want to do with your life. It’s not healthy,” Jimin said.

“Thank you,” you said again.

“Well, I think it’s time to get going. I know you’ve met with other couples that have no doubt tried to convince you they’re the best option but... I really hope you chose us Y/N. You’d be the perfect surrogate for us,” Jungkook said, looking at you with a softened gaze.

And you knew it too.

You knew they were the couple you wanted to surrogate for, even if it cost you everything. You knew they deserved it. Not that any of the other families you had spoken to didn’t, but, they were the ones for you.

Your fertile window and ovulation were coming up so you had to make a choice and soon.

You’d met with the doctors at the clinic and they said that they were just waiting on you. Whomever you picked would have a meeting with you before the insemination on the rules and what you would have to do in regards to taking care of yourself. And then the money would be yours in full.

Calling the clinic you told them your answer.

“I would like to surrogate for Mr. Jeon and Mr. Park,” you said.

“Alrighty, I will give them a call and set up the appointment for them to get their end of the deal all set up and then we can get you all ready to go!” The receptionist said.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you said before hanging up.

Namjoon and Jin invited you over wanting to hear the news of everything going on with you.

And you couldn’t wait to see Annie again.

“Aw, you’re getting so big!” You said as you were greeted by Annie’s face in Jin’s arms.

“Yes she is!” Jin agreed. The cooing baby leaned forward, moving to capture your hair in her little fist.

You laughed and took her from Jin easily, he didn’t fight you and let you have your time with her. Rocking and bouncing her on your hip while the pair of them talked in the dining room.

Soon, a knocking came to the door.

Confusion swept over you, but regardless, you went to answer the door anyways.

Annie still on your hip, you opened the door to reveal Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook, your new surrogate partners.

Frozen in shock the two of them looked at you as if they were equally confused.

You wondered if the clinic had told them you picked them yet. You had just gotten off the phone with them today, so you weren’t. Jungkook’s face went to you to Annie and then back to you.

“H-Hi?” You whispered.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Jimin asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Came to have dinner with Jinnie and Joon, and Annie of course,” you smiled, raising the little one up on your hip more.

“Oh, did you know we were coming?” Jungkook asked.

“No, I had no idea,” you said.

“Ah! Are those the boys?” Jin’s voice echoed throughout the hall.

“Yes!” You yelled back.

“Let them in Y/N! We invited them over too!” Namjoon said.

“Please come in,” you said, moving out of their way as the couple greeted Jin and Namjoon fondly.

It appeared as though there were no hard feelings in regards to them getting a surrogate they wanted. But, you could see Jungkook’s longing on his face when he looked at Annie in your arms.

“She’s beautiful,” Jimin said, looking down at Annie as you rocked her to sleep.

“Mhmm, gorgeous. She’ll be stealing hearts just like her dads,” you said.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jimin said, keeping his eyes trained on the little one in your arms.

“Did you make your decision yet? It said on your profile that your ovulation window was coming up and I was just curious,” he said quietly.

“I did,” you said.

Jimin’s face fell.

“I see,” he swallowed.

“Jimin-”

“Alright you two, paws off the baby, my turn!” Namjoon said, walking in.

You handed the sleeping baby over without a fuss before you and Jimin both walked out into the living room. Jimin whispered something to Jungkook and his face dropped. But you couldn’t find the words in your mouth. You wanted to tell them you picked them. You moved to talk to them when you felt Jin’s presence behind you.

“Y/N? You alright?” Jin asked, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah.”

It was getting later, and you were feeling sleepy from all the food you’d eaten during the night.

Jimin and Jungkook looked at your sleepy form and their hearts broke all over again.

“I can’t believe she didn’t pick us,” Jungkook said, face betraying how he felt.

“Babe, you can’t force her. I-I thought we had a good chance but,” Jimin sighed.

“I don’t want to keep looking for a surrogate if this is going to happen every time,” Jungkook said, pain coming through in his voice.

“Jungkook you know how badly I want this too right? It’s not just you hurting here,” Jimin said.

“We’ve been trying for two years to find a surrogate and when we find one we want, they always pick someone else. Why? Are we that undesirable? I don’t understand,” Jungkook sighed.

“It’s not that,” Jimin whispered. “Maybe it’s just not our turn yet.”

“When is it gonna be our turn, huh?” Jungkook said. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

“We can’t give up,” Jimin said softly. “I don’t want to give up yet.”

“I know baby,” Jungkook said, kissing Jimin’s cheek softly.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest. These poor men were really hurting for a baby. A family to call their own.

Sitting up Jimin and Jungkook looked at you in fear.

“Y/N? Y-You were awake-oh God I’m so sorry you had to hear that-” Jimin said frantically.

“I picked you two,” you said.

Their eyes shot up to meet yours.

Jungkook’s were glossy from unshed tears and Jimin’s were widening by the second.

“You what?”

“I said I picked you two. I want to surrogate for you two,” you explained.

“But-in the nursery you said-” Jimin started.

“I said I had picked someone, I didn’t say who silly,” you smiled.

“Oh thank you Y/N!” Jungkook said, coming over to hold your hand in his.

“You don’t know what this means to us,” Jimin said.

“I know you two want this baby more than anything, I want to give it to you. Honestly, you two have waited long enough,” you said, heart stammering at the look of hope in their eyes.

“You’re perfect Y/N! Seriously!” Jimin cried, holding onto Jungkook for dear life.

“Thank you, you’re very sweet. I’m supposed to go in for the, you know, business end of it on Monday. They said they’d call you tomorrow. I just gave my answer today,” you told them.

“Okay, alright sounds good,” Jungkook said, wiping his eyes furiously.

“You gonna be okay?” You asked, looking at the two of them.

“Of course, more than okay.”

—

Monday creeped up on you quickly, faster than you thought.

You went to the clinic and sat down, getting signed in and everything before you saw Jungkook and Jimin waltz in looking like a million bucks.

Dressed head to toe in designer clothing, you realized you didn’t know what they did for a living. You hadn’t really looked at their profiles all that much. But you knew their baby would have everything they could ever want and more.

Smiling at them and waving, the two of them made their way over to you.

“Hey! What’s going on?” Jimin asked, sitting down in the chair next to you.

“Just waiting,” you said, looking at the pair of them together.

They looked like the traditional power couple. Strong, dependable and handsome to boot. It was kind of overwhelming.

Jungkook was wringing his hands together, biting his lip as he looked around the room.

“You alright Jungkook?”

“Yeah just-”

“Mr. Jeon, Mr. Park and Miss Y/N? The legal assistant will see you now,” a voice from the corner called.

“Let’s go,” you said, standing up and heading towards the back room.

You sat down and the rules of the road were laid out.

If you signed the contract Jimin and Jungkook were the parents of the child. You had no rights unless they said otherwise. You would be given a lump sum of money, transferred into your bank account the day they know you’re pregnant and expecting. If anything happens to the baby such as a miscarriage or something of the like that you had no control over, you would be able to keep the money. But, they would like to try again to see if the next one stuck better.

“So, if you conceive twins, which your likelihood is good, Mr. Jeon and Mr. Park have agreed to pay you double,” you almost choked on your drink.

Double?

“What?” You squeaked out.

“It’s written right here,” the legal assistant said, pointing to the document in her hands.

“Okay,” you said softly, not wanting to make either of them uncomfortable.

“The total of your payment will come to $153,000 dollars,” the legal assistant said. “If you conceive twins.”

Your head swirled.

What would you do with all that money? Jimin and Jungkook looked at you with worry.

“I-Is it not enough? We can give you more if you want-”

“No! No no, that is totally acceptable. More than,” you said.

“Okay, just making sure,” Jimin answered.

“If you would please initial here, Miss Y/N. And then a signature here at the bottom and then you two will also need to sign as well,” she said.

After all the paperwork was done your date for insemination was set.

Jimin and Jungkook looked at you as you walked out of the clinic.

“Hey! Y/N! Hold on,” Jungkook said, walking forward.

“Huh? What is it?” You asked turning around.

Jungkook’s bright eyes blinded you as he gazed into your own. But you kept your breathing steady as you could.

“Do you want a ride home? Jimin and I cleared our schedules so we could be here today, and... Well we don’t want you to get hurt or anything,” he said, pointing to the black suburban.

“Oh, it’s alright I was gonna go to the bookstore and get a few things and then head home but I’ll be fine, no worries,” you smiled.

“We insist, Y/N,” Jimin said, walking forward to take his partner’s hand.

“Um, well... It’s really not that far, I’m sure it’ll be okay,” you said.

“Well, if you’re really sure,” Jungkook said.

“Yeah, but I’ll see you two on Thursday right? That’s when I’m supposed to... Well, you know,” your said, looking down at your feet.

“Of course! If you want us to be there that is,” Jimin said.

“Yes, it’s your baby,” you said.

“Okay, we’ll see you Thursday then,” Jungkook agreed, waving at you before he and Jimin got into the suburban and left.

But you couldn’t help the feeling you had as you watched them drive away.

Sadness.

—

You walked into the clinic Thursday morning, sweat pooling in your palms. You were reaching the end of your wire at your apartment. And you weren’t going to get the money in time. You were worried and didn’t want to bother Namjoon and Jin... So you just kept it to yourself.

You felt the fear and worry eating you up inside as you sat in the waiting room.

The doctor called your name and you headed back towards the room, when someone shouted your name.

Jimin and Jungkook were there, smiling brightly at you.

Your heart eased at seeing the two men, so happy and radiant. Everything you weren’t currently. But, knowing you were giving them something so important really made you feel better. Even if it was just for the time being.

“Oh my gosh, we’re finally getting a baby!” Jimin squeaked.

“Easy, it’s probably not going to happen first try,” you reminded him of what the doctor said.

“Bet I could get you pregnant in one shot,” Jungkook smirked.

“Oh shush Kook. But if you got her pregnant you wouldn’t get those twins you want so badly now would you, butthead,” Jimin said, shoving the younger man around slightly.

You tried to keep yourself from blushing but the redness that twinged your cheeks was there regardless. You were here to get pregnant, that was the end goal of today.

“Alright, Miss Y/N, we’re going to take you back and get you all set and then Mr. Park and Mr. Jeon have said they wanted to take you home after. Is that alright with you?” The doctor asked.

“Yes, that’s fine,” you said.

“Okay, let’s head back then,” Jungkook gave you a gentle smile before Jimin came forward and gave your knuckles a quick kiss.

“Good luck, Y/N,” he said.

“Thanks,” you answered before heading back.

The whole process took around a hour and a half, most of it waiting.

The sensation wasn’t too bad, but you were a little uncomfortable. Everything was super sterile and not how you expected you’d get pregnant, but... It wasn’t your baby at the end of the day. You tried not to wiggle as you laid there, letting Jimin’s seed try to impregnate you.

Finally, the timer went off and you were allowed to leave to go home.

Jimin and Jungkook were sat in the waiting room, chatting with each other excitedly. You knew that this was it, that they were more than perfect for this baby. You were beyond happy you could give it to them.

“Y/N!” Jimin said, walking up to greet you.

“Hey,” you said easily, noticing Jungkook come up behind him.

“We’re here to take you home!” Jimin smiled.

“Thanks guys,” you said softly.

“We brought the car around already so you don’t have to walk too much. Don’t wanna spoil all our hard work,” Jimin said, looking at your tummy with affection.

“Like I said Jimin, it probably won’t happen this time. But you never know, you might have some strong swimmers,” you joked.

“You have no idea, Y/N,” he said, gazing into your eyes for a moment.

Your breath caught in your throat. He looked like an angel wrapped in sin, as if he were so good yet so bad for you. It made your head spin.

Jungkook held the car door open for you and you got in carefully. Jimin sat in the back with you while Jungkook sat up front.

Of course these two had a driver...

Jimin was looking out the window and noticed that they were getting into the sketchier part of town. His worry was eating him alive. He didn’t want the mother of his child staying here! That simply wouldn’t do.

You got out of the car, heading towards your apartment when the landlord approached you. Jungkook and Jimin were still getting out of the car when he exploded at you.

“There’s the little bitch now!” He growled, grabbing your wrist and twisting it painfully.

You yelped, trying not to move so much. It only made it hurt more.

“Let me go!” You said.

“You filthy cunt, you owe me almost six thousand dollars! And you dare to come back here without anything? Huh? Nothing? Where have you been huh? Selling your body to make some cash I bet, that’s what little whore’s like you do right? Fucking pathetic,” he spits at you.

“I-I just need a little more time-” a resounding smack is heard through the parking lot.

Jimin and Jungkook look up to see your head turned sharply to the side and a man gripping your wrist.

Both of the men flew off the handle.

“Let go of her you fucker!” Jungkook yelled, walking forward with purpose.

“Don’t you dare touch her!” Jimin growled, pulling you away from the man.

“Did you fucking hit her?” Jungkook said, looking at your reddened cheek.

“Bitch owes me money, she knows that-”

“Fucker!” Jungkook snarled, grabbing the man by his shirt and lifting him.

“Y/N? Sweetie can you hear me?” Jimin whispered. Your head was swimming with pain and discomfort. Your cheek was screaming at you. But what hurt worse was the embarrassment. They saw it all, that you couldn’t take care of yourself. How on earth were you going to take care of a baby if you got pregnant for nine months? Huh?

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, he hurt you. Jungkook put him down and call the cops,” Jimin said.

“I owe him money, I just-”

“You can’t arrest me! You fuckheads, do you know who I am?” He asked.

“Do you know who we are? Hi I’m Jeon Jungkook, heir to the Jeon Law Firm here in the city. You might have heard of us, and she is the mother of my future child and you won’t be putting your hands on her ever again,” Jungkook said.

“I just wanna leave, I don’t... I don’t wanna be here,” you whimpered.

“But Y/N,” Jimin said.

“Can we leave? Please?” You begged, looking up at him with a swollen cheek and glossy eyes. Jimin’s heart broke five times over, seeing you so upset.

“Jungkook, come on. Let’s go,” Jimin said.

“And leave her with this fucking piece of shit? I think not, no we’re going to-Y/N? Are you alright?” Jungkook asked, coming forward and looking at your face with a tenderness you didn’t know was there.

“We’ll take her home with us,” Jimin said easily.

“Okay, yeah. But we’re calling the cops on that dickbag when we get back. I want him arrested for hurting her,” Jungkook said with finality.

“Of course baby,” Jimin said, soothing the younger male.

“Can we just go?” You asked, looking up at them for a moment.

“Yes, of course we can, let’s get you in the car and go back to our place,” Jungkook said, coming forward and getting into the back seat this time. Jimin encouraged you to get inside, so you did, him following shortly thereafter.

“Take us home please,” Jungkook said, shutting the little window between the front of the car and the back.

You sat between the two men, each of them looking out the window and appearing to be deep in thought. You were as well. You hoped this didn’t affect your chances of getting pregnant. You don’t know what you’d do if you couldn’t get this baby. The prospect of so much money on the line, you very future.

Also, you worried for Jungkook and Jimin. You really wanted this to work for their sake too.

They’d been waiting so long.

You were swallowed into the dreamscape of your thoughts. Nothing really getting in or out of your mind. You were just reeling at everything that had happened in less than four hours. You had your first attempt at insemination, went home and got assaulted and now you were heading to the upper end of the city with the two men who wanted you to have a baby for them.

This was all so much to handle.

Finally, the car stopped moving and Jimin quickly ushered you out of the vehicle. You stood there and looked up at the stunning building with a weird sense of fear. It loomed over you, almost intimidatingly so.

Jimin told the driver to go park the car and take the rest of the day off while Jungkook gathered their things from the back. You looked around and noticed that people were staring at you.

No doubt you looked like a sore pink thumb right now. Tear stained and swollen cheeks making you look even more outlandish in the area. But, Jungkook quickly moved everyone inside.

The door man asked who you were and Jimin and Jungkook simply told the truth.

“She’s our surrogate, we’re having her stay with us for a while. If she needs anything, make sure she gets it!” Jimin said.

“Absolutely Mr. Park,” the doorman said.

“Come on Y/N,” Jungkook said, heading towards the elevator.

You followed behind them quickly, getting in the mirrored elevator. Looking at yourself you felt all the anxiety and fear come back. You didn’t belong here, you were wearing a pair of fucked up jeans, a flannel and t-shirt. They were dressed in beautiful clothing, dipped in the finest silks and satins.

You looked like a charity case no doubt.

It made your stomach churn in discomfort. But you kept your mouth shut. You were providing them with a service. And in turn they were paying you. It was a give and take situation. But you couldn’t help but feel as though you were taking more than you were giving.

Jungkook held the door while you and Jimin entered the house. You looked around and the apartment was massive. Bigger than your Aunt’s tiny house in the country. You wondered just how much money these two had.

Soon, Jimin was sitting you down on the couch and tending to your cheek. His heart crumpled when you flinched at his touch. He tried not to take it personally, you were literally just assaulted. But he hoped you weren’t scared of him, or Jungkook.

“Should I call the doctor?” Jungkook asked, coming in and sitting next to Jimin.

“No, she’s just a little swollen, she’ll be alright,” Jimin said, handing you the painkillers and some ice.

“Can she have that?” Jungkook asked, referring to the pain medicine.

“It’s acetaminophen she can have it,” Jimin confirmed.

“Okay,” he said, standing up and heading towards the kitchen.

“Are you hungry?” Jimin asked, looking at you for any signs of discomfort.

“Not particularly, but I should eat. Especially today,” you said, a weak smile on your face. Jimin nodded, but headed towards the kitchen regardless.

Soon after, a wonderful aroma filled the apartment. But you hadn’t moved from the couch, keeping your eyes trained on the TV Jimin turned on for you. You didn’t particularly want to watch the news, but you weren’t sure on how to work this TV. It made your brain hurt. But, whatever, you kept your eyes on the screen, not looking anywhere in particular.

Jimin soon came out, wearing a smile that must be a signature for him or something. He told you dinner was ready and to follow him. Turning off the TV with a swipe of his finger on the screen you marveled at the technology.

He patted your cheek and brought you into the dining room.

Jungkook was finishing putting the food out when you sat down. He and Jimin were deep in conversation. You picked at your food, eating a few pieces if Jimin put them on your plate. But other than that, you sat unmoving in the corner.

You supposed you were still in shock of what had happened today.

Soon, you felt the distinct cramping in your lower stomach, something you were told is to be expected. Especially if the pregnancy took. Letting out a puff of air, you held your stomach. It wasn’t terrible, but the discomfort had you adjusting in your seat.

Jungkook’s head snapped in your direction, carefully observing you.

“Everything alright? Y/N?” He asked, cocking his head to the side in a cute way.

Forcing a smile you nodded.

“Yeah, just cramping a little bit,” you said, keeping your hands together underneath the table.

“Is it bad?” Jungkook asked, leaning towards you.

“No-ah!” You said, clutching your stomach. It didn’t hurt as much as it caught you off guard. But the two men were beside you in seconds.

“Y/N? Do you want us to call the doctor?”

“Is there something we can get for you? Do you want more pain medicine?”

“N-No, honestly, I’m okay,” you said, giving them each a squeeze to their wrist.

Jimin nodded, standing up and moved to start cleaning up the meal. Jungkook placed a couple more pieces of meat on your plate, asking you to eat them. He thought it could help your cramping, but he mainly just wanted to see you eat something.

Soon, the pair of them had cleaned up the meal and had gathered some clothes for you to wear to bed.

“We’ll pick up some stuff for you to wear tomorrow,” Jungkook said smiling.

“N-No that’s alright I can go back and get my stuff,” you said.

“You’re not going anywhere near that building,” Jimin warned, voice low.

“What? I have to get my stuff-”

“We’ll have someone go collect your things and bring them back here,” Jimin said, careful.

“I can go it’s not a big deal-”

“Y/N, please, just let us take care of this,” Jungkook said, quietly coming over to your side.

You were far too tired to argue. But you already felt like a cat in a cage. So you waved off the disagreement and decided to just head to bed.

The cramping was still there, but not nearly as bad as it had been when you were at the table. Laying down helped, but you felt something in your underwear.

Quickly, you went to the bathroom and noticed some blood in your underwear. Biting your lip, you tried to keep yourself from panicking. Putting them back on you went to living room and found Jimin sitting on the couch, looking tired.

“J-Jimin,” you said quietly.

His head snapped up and he gave you a little smile.

“Yes, Y/N?” He asked, coming towards you. You sighed and ran your hands through your hair.

“I-I was bleeding,” you said, voice straining slightly.

“You were? Where?” He asked, brows furrowing.

“M-My, uh, I found it in my underwear,” you said, breathing in deeply.

“Was it a lot?” He asked, keeping a cool exterior.

“N-No, not a lot but it worried me,” you said, trying to keep yourself from freaking out on him.

“It’s normal to spot a little after the IUI, don’t worry. But tell me if anymore happens. They did just shove a tube up your business,” he said, laughing lightly.

Immediately you were put at ease. Sensing your relief, Jimin patted your shoulder.

“It’s okay to be nervous, we are,” Jimin said, nodding towards the closed door you assumed was to their bedroom.

“Yeah, I’m-I just really want this to work,” you confessed, feeling yourself relax a bit.

“We do too, more than anything,” Jimin answered, giving you a genuine grin.

“I’m glad that the baby will have you two as parents, makes me feel good knowing that they’ll be taken care of,” you smiled back.

Jimin’s face seemed to morph into a look of joy and agony at the same time.

“You’re too sweet, Y/N, honestly. Jungkook and I are beyond excited,” he explained.

“Have you always wanted to be a father?” You asked him, out of the blue. Jimin blushed and looked down at his feet.

“Y-Yeah, ever since I was little I always wanted a family to call my own. And when I met Jungkook I knew it was just meant to be you know? Like, everything just made sense,” he said, a sheepish look taking over his features.

“That’s so sweet,” you gushed.

“It’s the truth,” he shrugged.

“I want someone to look at me the way you look at Jungkook, like I’m their whole world and more. I’ve never been one for dating though,” you said, looking down at the floor, embarrassed.

“No? How many boyfriends or girlfriends have you had?” Jimin asked, not thinking. When the shocked look took over your face he back peddled. “I-I shouldn’t have asked, that doesn’t deem your worth or anything like that-”

“None,” you said, blushing bright red.

Jimin’s face changed.

“Tell me if I’m out of line here, but have you ever, uh... You know, um,” he said, rubbing his hands together.

“Oh? Sex? Yeah, I’ve done it before, but it wasn’t really anything special. I don’t even think I-um... Nevermind,” you said, biting your lip hard.

“You don’t think you what? You didn’t cum?” Jimin said, as if he were shocked.

“No! Now keep your voice down!” You yelped.

Jimin frowned.

“That’s horrible, you deserve better,” Jimin said matter of factly.

“It happens, but, this conversation has gotten away from us,” you said, trying to steer it away from your pathetic sex life and more towards the fact that you both need to go to bed. “I’m tired, had a long day.” You said, rubbing your arms.

“Of course, absolutely! If you need anything or something happens, our room is right here just come get us,” Jimin said.

“Okay, thanks,” you said, turning, but not before you wished him a good night.

Jimin gave you a small smile. “Good night, Y/N, sleep well.”

—

Soon your stuff was all moved into the boys apartment. You questioned when you would be leaving, but the boys said that you didn’t have to worry about departing for the foreseeable future.

They had originally wanted you to live with them if and when they found out you were pregnant, that way they could be there through it all. But, these stages after the insemination could be hard on you and they decided to keep you with them.

You felt like a little kid half the time, but you had to call in to work often because of these appointments. And quickly, they tired of it.

“Y/N, we love you and we want you to pick here to work, but honestly your attendance is a severe issue right now,” your supervisor said over the phone. You called in that day because you just were feeling super exhausted.

You hadn’t told them you’d signed up for a surrogacy. You weren’t sure how that would go over, but, maybe you had to if you wanted to save your job.

“I-I’m calling in all the time because I’m trying to get pregnant,” you said softly.

Laughter came from the other side of the phone.

You were being laughed at.

“Oh my God, Y/N, that’s hilarious! But seriously, I have to put you on a two week suspension without pay because-”

“Dawn, I'm serious. I signed up with the fertility clinic and I’m currently trying to become a surrogate for a lovely couple,” you said, honestly.

“Y/N, why did you sign up for that? As far as any of us knew, you weren’t that into kids,” Dawn said over the phone.

“I-I like kids, but the baby won’t be mine to keep. The couple gets to keep them once they are born. I lose all rights as a parent,” you explained.

“That’s kinda cruel... Let you carry the baby for nine months then force you to leave them. I don’t know if I could do that,” she said.

“I-It’s the way it is,” you said. “But I need to have the day off, I have an appointment at the clinic.”

“Y/N, would it be easier if we just let you quit?” Dawn said.

“What?!” You shrieked into the phone.

“Well, it’s a delicate time and we'd have you working on your feet for long hours. I don’t want anything to happen to you or your baby,” she said, sounding sad.

“But I don’t wanna leave you guys,” you whimpered.

“Well, once the little tike is born come back. We’ll hire you back, I promise. If you want to come back,” she offered.

“Y-You’ll really let me come back?” You said, biting your lip.

It would be nice to just focus on the pregnancy and helping Jungkook and Jimin. If you had the option, maybe it would be better to take her advice and go back when you were ready. Hopefully they don’t screw you over.

“Of course we will! We love you! But, right now isn’t the best time for you to be working. Focus on you and your little bundle okay? We’ll be waiting,” she said.

“Oh thank you Dawn! I love you guys too!”

After a little tears ‘see you later’, you hung up.

Soon, a soft knock came to your door. Looking up you saw Jungkook there, dressed to the nines looking at you. Raising a brow you assessed the situation.

“What’s up?” You said, setting your phone down to give him your undivided attention.

“I was wondering if you needed a ride to work, you’re already an hour late,” he said, pointing to the clock on your wall.

“Oh, about that,” you said, rubbing your hands together.

“Did something happen? Did they fire you for being our surrogate? Oh just let me make one phone call, that’s illegal! I’m a lawyer, let me talk some sense into them!” Jungkook said, turning to walk out.

“No, Jungkook! It’s fine, they told me to take the time off. To spend time focusing on myself and to take care of the baby,” you explained. “My job will be there when I’m ready to return.”

Jungkook stopped and looked at you. His features softened before nodding.

“Okay, but if they try to tell you you can’t go back when you’re ready, you just tell me. I won’t let anyone disrespect or lie to you,” he said, a stern look on his face.

“Thanks Jungkook, that means a lot,” you said, giving a smile.

“There’s food in the fridge, all you have to do is heat it up. You have the house to yourself so, do whatever you want,” Jungkook said, waving before walking out of your room.

You sat there for a minute, really mulling over what you wanted to do. Honestly, you were so sore and tired you just wanted to fall back asleep. But you decided that it was better to get up and do some activity. Hopefully that would be okay.

It had been about ten days since your IUI appointment and you were mainly just tired. Although fatigue was a symptom of an attachment. But that was the only symptom you were having, you were meant to test in a couple days to see if you were pregnant, but something had you worried.

If you weren’t pregnant, you’d have to wait a whole other month. They did tell you that sometimes it took multiple tries to successfully impregnate someone. But you really wanted this to work, you just wanted to get this going.

That way Jimin and Jungkook could have their baby already.

You knew they’d be amazing fathers, already with their dutiful actions towards you. So willing to do whatever you asked, but you tried your best not to pester them too much. You tried to make it as though you weren’t even there. But they insisted you join them for dinner so they could make sure you were eating well.

For your day you mainly just puttered around the house, picking up and doing little things that wouldn’t aggravate you. So, you settled down with a book in your hands and soft music playing in the background.

That’s how Jimin and Jungkook found you when they came home. Curled up on the couch with a novel between your fingers. Jimin smiled softly, looking at the picturesque scene.

“Do you think she’s pregnant?” Jungkook asked, looking at his boyfriend with apprehension.

“I hope so,” Jimin answered.

“She’s really tired lately, sleeping late and going to bed early. That’s a sign, right?” Jungkook said.

“It is, but that’s also a sign of a woman’s period coming up,” Jimin warned.

“Damn...” Jungkook said, rubbing his face.

“But I don’t know, she’s due to test soon so, we might have our baby,” Jimin soothed.

You looked up from your book, noticing the pair in the entryway. Giving them a shy smile, you waved, nose getting buried back in the book. Jimin laughed lightly, heading towards the kitchen.

The two cooked dinner, making something easy to digest. Your stomach was on the fritz yesterday so they want to make sure they don’t upset your sensitive tummy. But, as Jimin looked out at you reading on the couch, a blanket draped along your lap. He couldn’t help but love the domesticity of it all. You looked at peace, in your element and comfortable.

Jimin hoped it would stay that way. With you, comfy and cared for.

Jungkook rushed past with the boiling soup in his hands, moving quick like a little kid to set the table for you all. Jimin just laughed, smacking his butt when he came back.

“Hey! Paws off,” Jungkook pouted.

“Hmm? That’s not what you were saying the other night,” Jimin laughed at the scandalized look on Jungkook’s face. “I’m kidding, come on go get Y/N so we can eat.”

Jungkook went to gather you from the living room and was met with an unusual sight. You passed out, wrapped in the blanket with your book on the floor.

He smiled, moving towards you slowly. He placed a soft hand on your head, patting your hair gently. Your eyes opened slowly, looking up at him with sleepy eyes. Jungkook helped you up, leading you to the dining room.

The meal was quiet, Jungkook and Jimin making small talk with you, but mostly you were just eating peacefully.

You ate well and leaned back, as you tended to do when you were full and let out a huff. Jimin repressed the smile on his face with the back of his hand. Jungkook smiled openly, looking at your sleepy form.

Sitting back up you took a few more swallows of water before you stood up and thanked them for the meal and headed towards your room.

Jungkook and Jimin watched you go, each having a weird tightening in their chest at the sight of your swaying hips.

—

You had finally reached the two week mark.

Time to test.

Jimin and Jungkook went with you, driving you to the clinic for your appointment at the ass crack of dawn it felt like.

Jimin was chatting excitedly in the front seat with Jungkook. You could see the looks of love on their faces as they talked about their future with their child. It made butterflies rise in your stomach.

Quickly smacking your cheeks, you tried to forget the sensation of hope building in your belly.

Soon you were all at the clinic, Jimin helping you out of the car. The two men walked on either side of you, making sure everyone knew who you were here with. It made you feel protected, watched over.

Important.

After all the paperwork was done for the visit, Jungkook and Jimin sat down next to you. They interlocked their hands, smiling brightly at each other. You locked your hands together and looked down at them.

“Miss Y/N? Mr. Park and Mr. Jeon? Are you all ready?” A nurse called and you all headed back to a secluded room, a few chairs and the like ready. You saw the needles and everything set up and you swallowed hard.

You hated needles, with a passion.

But you’d done it before, so you’d do it again.

“Y/N? You okay?” Jungkook asked, looking at your paling face.

“Y-yeah, nervous around needles,” you confessed.

“Oh, do you want some water or something?”

“No I’m okay,” you encouraged.

“If you’re sure,” Jungkook said, looking like he wanted to do more...

“Alright! We’re gonna take some blood and a urine sample, so if you two would just wait outside for a moment while we get her changed, then you can come back in if you want,” the nurse explained.

You got changed and hopped up on the table.

They asked a bunch of questions, all fairly standard. Then they brought out the needles. Jimin saw you flinch when the packaging came off and you saw the syringe come closer.

“Hang on,” Jimin said, standing up.

The nurse stopped and looked up in confusion, that’s when Jimin took your hand in his and squeezed.

“You can hold my hand while they take your blood okay? Just squeeze if you need to,” he said, looking at your face for any signs of resistance.

You bit your lip and nodded.

The nurse took your blood quickly, getting a few vials full. Jungkook watched as his boyfriend held your hand the whole time, keeping you calm and at ease.

He hoped with everything he was that this had worked.

God, he wanted it to work so bad.

Soon, the two men were being ushered out of the room so you could do your urine sample.

After everything was done and over with, you got dressed and went to the waiting room. Jimin and Jungkook stood up when they saw you, waving you over to sit with them.

All three of you waited with baited breath as they ran the tests. They kept asking if you wanted anything, water, juice or something to eat. But you politely declined. Knowing if you put anything in your body right now you’d puke it up immediately with how nervous you were for the results.

They said it shouldn’t take too long.

It had been about an hour when a nurse popped her head out, signaling for all three of you to come back.

“Dr. Heinz will see you now,” she said, giving you all a small smile before leading you down the hallway towards the offices.

Shortly, you were sat on a comfortable sofa with Jungkook and Jimin in front of you. Jungkook and Jimin were holding onto each other so tight you feared for their circulation. But, Dr. Heinz was quick to get to the point.

“Well, I want to say, congratulations, Mr. Jeon and Mr. Park... Y/N is pregnant,” he said, talking like you weren’t in the room.

“Oh my God!” Jungkook shouted, standing up and hugging Jimin to him tightly. They kissed several times, tears falling freely down the new father’s faces. Dr. Heinz let them have their moment, smiling at the happy couple. You looked down at your stomach and bit your lip.

So this was really happening...

“Jungkook, I love you,” Jimin said, holding onto his boyfriend tightly.

“I love you too babe, I love you too,” Jungkook affirmed.

“Okay we do have to discuss her health however,” Dr. Heinz said, having the men sit down quickly.

“Is she alright?” Jimin said, looking at you with worry written all over his features.

“She’s at a very fragile point in the pregnancy. IUI can be tricky so we need to be very careful with what happens next. I don’t want her doing anything strenuous. Especially with the lower body until we can get her in for an ultrasound. Her uterus looked good on her preliminary but getting pregnant can really affect a woman’s body, so we need to take all the precautions,” Dr. Heinz explained.

“But is she going to be okay?” Jungkook asked, placing a gentle hand on yours.

You looked at his big hand covering yours, blinking slowly.

“I’m worried about her low white blood cell count. That makes her more susceptible to colds and infections, so you need to be very careful. Her red blood cell count was also low, showing early signs of anemia. So lots of red meat and protein to help keep her levels up. Although the anemia will be aggravated by the pregnancy, so make sure she doesn’t stand up too fast or tax herself too much,” he said.

“I am right here,” you said, glaring at the doctor.

“Sorry Miss Y/N, they’re the parents in this situation. I want them to be informed of your situation,” Dr. Heinz said bluntly.

“There are four of us in this room, I’ll remind you of that. Don’t talk like I’m not here please,” you said, folding your hands and crossing your legs.

Jimin almost burst out laughing.

Damn you were feisty!

He really liked that...

“I-I apologize, Miss Y/N,” he said, swallowing quickly before continuing on. “Also, you’re going to start having more symptoms than the fatigue you mentioned. Morning sickness is extremely common and expected, although every woman is different. Headaches, dizziness and blurred vision are also to be noted. Even some spotting can happen, but please do tell us if you’re spotting or bleeding. Now, do any of you have questions?” The doctor asked, looking at the boys and you.

“Is there any way to know if we are expecting, more than one?” Jimin asked, looking down at your stomach with pure adoration on his face.

“We won’t really know until she’s further along. Quite a bit further actually. But for now, enjoy this. Enjoy the early stages, it’ll be tough but you can pull through. I wish you all the best of luck,” Dr. Heinz said, handing some paperwork over to Jungkook before the three of you stood up and headed out.

Jimin and Jungkook were so excited, chatting with each other about if they were having twins. If the baby was a boy or girl. You were in the car, hands folded in your lap while you looked out the window.

Honestly, you were scared out of your mind.

The doctor had mentioned this was a really fragile part of the pregnancy. That you’d have to be careful, not to mention it was important for your own health as well. If something happened to the baby, something could happen to you and vice versa.

Jungkook insisted on taking everyone out for dinner.

This was a big occasion after all.

Sitting down in the very resturant you all had your first meal in, felt kinda surreal.

Now, you were pregnant with their baby. It felt kinda full circle.

Jimin and Jungkook insisted on getting whatever you wanted. But you weren’t terribly hungry yet, maybe it was the nerves of the whole day catching up. But you ordered a few things, making sure to eat. You knew it made them happy when you did, because it showed you cared about your body and the life growing inside of you.

Jungkook was drinking, a lot if you were being honest. Jimin just watched him as his cheeks flushed red as he continued to talk animatedly at the two of you. Smiling, you filled up Jungkook’s water before urging him to drink some.

“Thanks youuu,” he said, beaming at you.

“You’re welcome, but drink up okay?” You said, gesturing towards the glass.

He did as you asked, drinking all the water. You sighed in relief, knowing at least he’d be hydrated when he went to bed.

“Well, guess you aren’t driving you big lug,” Jimin laughed as he hauled Jungkook out of the restaurant a while later.

“Mmm, we’re having a baby baby!” Jungkook cooed at Jimin, holding his cheeks in between his hands.

“Mhmm, yes we are. Now get in the back with Y/N, okay?” Jimin said, opening the back and helping his very tipsy boyfriend inside. You were about to climb in when Jimin placed his hands on your hips, causing you to jolt so hard you smacked your head on the roof of the car.

“Ow, fuck,” you said, holding your head tightly.

“Y/N!” Jimin yelped. Jungkook’s head popped up.

“What happened?” He asked, looking at you with bleary eyes.

“I just smacked my head, I’m alright,” you said, rubbing your head gingerly.

“Can I take a look?” Jimin asked, biting his plump lips harshly.

“Y-yeah,” you said, leaning towards him.

Jimin’s gentle hands on your scalp proved to be dangerous. Because now, you wanted him to touch you here all the time. Combing his fingers through your hair. Massaging the tender flesh there.

“Well, you aren’t bleeding, but you’ll have a massive bump for a few days no doubt,” he reasoned.

“She’s gonna have a massive bump here soon too!” Jungkook cheered happily, pointing at your stomach.

“Jungkook, enough,” Jimin warned.

Grumbling to himself, Jungkook backed off.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jimin asked. You nodded, already feeling the throbbing in the base of your skull starting.

“I’ll take a few pain killers when we get back,” you said.

“Okay,” Jimin said, running his hand from your head down to cradle your cheek in his palm. You’re cheeks heated up at the feeling of his skin on yours, but shortly he was retreating to the front of the car.

Soon, you were underway.

Jimin turned on the radio quietly, driving carefully around town.

Jungkook had managed to fall asleep against the window. When suddenly, the car was jerking to the side. Jimin laid on the horn, yelling a couple explicit words out the window. But, Jungkook’s body had already fallen into your lap.

His head rested comfortably against your thighs, arms draping across your legs. Jungkook continued to sleep peacefully while you inspected him. He had a beautiful nose, button like and slotting perfectly along with his already perfect features. His plush lips pouting as he slept. Your eyes widened at him, heart hammering in your chest as you gazed down at him.

He was incredibly handsome.

But, you knew his personality too. He was kind, but strong and sure of himself. He had an air of confidence that was almost infectious. But he also had a childish nature about him. Not immature, but there was something about the wonder in his eyes when he tried something new. Or the nostalgia that ran through him when he ate his favorite food or, just the sparkle in his eyes when Jimin came home.

You, as if possessed, took your hand and ran your fingers through his soft black hair. He groaned in his sleep, gripping your legs tighter. You continued to run your fingers through his hair, watching his face for any signs of discomfort.

Jimin looked in the rearview mirror and saw you stroking Jungkook’s head with a gentle hand. His heart thudded dangerously in his chest. You were so caring and tender, everything you did had purpose behind it.

Jimin felt relief flood him at the idea of you being the mother of he and Jungkook’s child. Technically just Jimin’s but Jungkook was also the father but he didn’t get any genetics in this one.

This one...

Did Jimin want to have more children?

You just got the announcement today and he was already giddy at the prospect of you growing large with his child. But confusion swept through him. Was this just because he was grateful to you? Or was it something more?

Looking at you and Jungkook in the back, he thinks he might already know the answer.

#ficswithluv #ksmutclub #BTS #BTS smut #Jikook x reader #Jikook #Bangtan #BTS fanfic #Jikook smut #Jikook x reader smut #Pregnancy au #Jimin x jungkook x reader #Surrogacy Au

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 3 years

Text

just about perfect - seonghwa

howdy folks, back with another fic but i’m switching it up on ya! i might start writing regularly for ateez as well so y’all are cool with that right? right.

summary: this is NOT inspired by seonghwa saying he watches nevertheless. why would you even think that.

warnings: not the kind of warning u were expecting but there’s no smut (i know its based off a show abt friends with benefits so that’s why i’m warning u. do not get ur hopes up) a little cussing, a lotta me waxing poetic abt the perfect man park seonghwa. also slight tomfoolery from the teezers

word count: 10.6k

the bookstore just off campus is your current go-to study spot, mostly because the cafe inside has a drink special where you buy one coffee and get a voucher for the new bakery next door. so, let’s just say the past few days you’ve been well caffeinated and well fed. you’re on the way there now, already planning out what your treats are going to be.

today you were supposed to meet your “study group” after your last class of the day, but it looks like you’re the only one here so far. and you say “study group” loosely, the professor for your music theory elective encouraged everyone to make a study group for the upcoming final and your group of friends chose to work together. there’s been no studying going on, though.

especially not when hongjoong’s new friend seonghwa has been flirting with you literally nonstop. he’s apparently friends with everyone else in your group too. san knows him from an art class they took together last semester, meanwhile wooyoung and yeosang claim they lived on seonghwa’s floor freshman year and he always bought them booze. seonghwa denies it, only because hongjoong would slap him if he admitted to buying alcohol for underage kids.

tasteful delinquency aside, seonghwa is a fine person. you mean personality fine, not like, fine fine even though san would beg to differ. he knows you’ve developed a thing for seonghwa despite trying not to, and he’s secretly trying to get you two together.

which is why san suddenly texts you and says he can’t make it, and neither can yeosang or wooyoung. they decided to ditch studying to practice for the final in their dance class instead, so it’ll be just you, seonghwa and hongjoong. and little did you know, hongjoong was trying to do the same thing as san. so we’ll see how this goes.

“y/n, you can’t do that,” hongjoong warns you, referring to the scale you were trying to fill out.

“why not?” you ask, looking down at your work and wondering what’s wrong.

“because it’ll sound like shit,” seonghwa replies before sipping his coffee.

“what he said,” hongjoong agrees, grabbing your paper and erasing some of the notes you had scribbled out. “it should look more like this.”

you glance over at what he’s done on top of your old work and sigh. you took this class because you like music, and you thought learning about how it works would be interesting, but it’s hard.

“can’t you just do all my work for me?” you plead. at this rate, you don’t think you’ll be able to pass the final.

“no, i don’t want you dragging me down in this class,” hongjoong replies. “my grades are great.”

“i hate you.”

“what are you struggling with, y/n?” seonghwa asks as he finally looks up from his laptop. he had been working on an assignment for another class this whole time because he, like hongjoong, is great with music theory. so maybe this study group was a good thing.

“here, you can switch seats with me,” hongjoong says as he clears the spot next to you on the weathered loveseat. “i’m going to look for a book i should’ve started reading two weeks ago.”

before you can protest, seonghwa is sliding his laptop across the coffeetable and slides himself into the spot next to you. when he sits you notice your thighs are touching, which is weird because there was plenty of space when hongjoong was here. you don’t know that seonghwa is doing this on purpose, that hongjoon really left so he could flirt with the cute cashier in the cafe to give you and seonghwa some alone time.

“so,” seonghwa starts once he’s settled. “what are you struggling with?”

“hmm, all of it?” you reply. your answer makes seonghwa smile, and you like the way his eyes sparkle when he does.

“then i guess we’ll be here a while.”

about an hour later, seonghwa has walked you through all the major and minor scales you need to know for the test and you’re starting to understand a little more. you’re still having problems with the back of the study guide where you have to come up with note combinations that can apply to those scales, but you have time to work on that since the final is two weeks out. right now, your brain is fried and you need a break.

“do you mind if i go get a coffee?” you ask seonghwa, who was in the middle of sending you the minor scale cheat sheet he made. he looks up from his laptop and shakes his head before he speaks.

“i would only mind if i can’t come with you.”

“it’s literally right over there, why do you need to come with me?” you question.

“i think i would just miss you too much,” he pouts, and you roll your eyes. seonghwa shuts his laptop and stands up. “what if i need coffee too?”

“you already had one,” you remind him as you stand.

“yeah,” he nods. “but teaching you is exhausting, so i need another. c’mon.”

he walks ahead of you to the counter, and you’re too busy searching for your wallet to notice he took his jacket off, revealing a sneaky tattoo on the back of his neck. it isn’t until you’re behind him in line that you get a look at the hand drawn star right on the nape of his neck, and you have to refrain from reaching out to trace the lines.

“i didn’t know you had a tattoo,” you decide to say. he turns around and instinctively rubs his hand across the tattoo, smiling at you with those sparkly eyes again.

“yeah, i have a couple,” he replies. “but this one is my favorite.”

“why?”

“because my name means ‘to become a star’, so i like knowing that i have a reminder with me all the time,” he explains.

“nice. it’s really pretty.”

“thanks, so are you.”

“sir?” the barista calls, pulling seonghwa’s attention from you. he steps up to give his order as you stare at the tattoo again, noticing alongside it a couple of freckles that almost make it look like a constellation.

“y/n?” seonghwa’s voice draws you out of your thoughts and you realize he’s finished ordering. “what do you want?”

“oh, i can get it,” you begin, but he cuts you off.

“no, my treat,” he insists, and you sheepishly walk up to the counter to give your order. seonghwa makes a mental note of what you get, and he also snatches the bakery voucher from you before you can put it in your pocket. you make a confused sound and seonghwa laughs.

“why’d you do that?” you whine.

“you only get to use it if you come with me to the bakery later,” he teases. “say yes or i’m drinking your coffee and getting myself an extra cupcake.”

“fine,” you huff. “but i have an assignment due at midnight, so i can’t stay long.”

“it’s 4pm, that’s not enough time for you to finish it?” he asks while you step out of the way for the next customers.

“i haven’t started yet,” you admit.

“you like saving things until the last minute, don’t you?”

“what makes you say that?”

“well, it looks like you haven’t been studying music theory at all, and now this,” he shrugs.

“not everybody can be perfect like you, park seonghwa,” you grumble as the barista places two coffee cups on the bar. you hear seonghwa giggle shortly, and you give him a questioning look.

“so you think i’m perfect?” he smirks.

it’s the next day, almost midnight, and you really need spray paint.

why? well, you’re stressed because you have so much to study for your finals and you don’t know where to start. yes, seonghwa helped yesterday, but he’s not in all your other classes, so you’ve decided you need a break from tearing your hair out over the material you can’t comprehend. the best way to distract yourself from that is to finally paint that dresser you got from a garage sale a few months ago, hence the spray paint.

thankfully, san is still awake, and he has a car, so you ask him to pick you up for a quick run to the art supply store that’s surprisingly still open. a bonus of going to college in the city, you can get anything almost whenever you need it.

“thanks for coming to get me,” you tell san as you hop into his car.

“no problem,” he replies. “i was bored and hongjoong said he needed paint pens so this is a win-win situation. plus, i get to hear about your date with seonghwa yesterday.”

“it was not a date,” you groan, choosing to ignore the suggestive way san is looking at you right now.

“but you spent the whole afternoon together,” san starts. “he bought you coffee and you went to the bakery together and talked about, like, your favorite colors and stuff. sounds like a date to me.”

“how do you know all that?”

“seonghwa told hongjoong and then hongjoong told me,” he explains as he turns onto the street that’ll take you to the art store.

“well tell hongjoong that i’m still mad at him for ditching us,” you reply. “and i’m still kinda mad at you and the other two for bailing in the first place.”

“hey, if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have had your first date with seonghwa,” san points out.

“it was not a date!” you cry. “we studied most of the time we were together, then he bought my coffee and bullied me into going to the bakery. i couldn’t stay long because i had a paper to write, so we talked about stupid shit until i had to leave.”

“it sounds like the beginning of true love to me,” san sing-songs.

“stop the car, i’ve decided to walk.”

when you get to the store, san separates from you quickly because he sees his friend mingi behind the counter. they’re busy talking while you search the store for the paints, and you’re so busy looking up at the aisle names that you don’t notice you’re about to run into someone.

“hey-” you start to complain, but you recognize the man you almost bumped into. “oh, seonghwa.”

“y/n,” he smiles at you. “what are you doing out so late?”

“uh, distracting myself from how small my brain is,” you explain. “what are you doing here?”

“hongjoong needed paint pens,” he says, and you’re about two seconds away from finding san and slapping him. did they really plan this too?

“why didn’t he come get them?” you ask as you remember what you’re here to find. your eyes scan the aisle behind seonghwa and you spot the paint cans at the end, but he’s in your way.

“i offered,” he says with a shrug.

“you must be a really good friend, then.”

“well you did call me perfect yesterday, so...” he trails off, smirking. you roll your eyes at him but can’t help the blush creeping up your neck. he interrupts his new favorite activity of staring deeply into your eyes (just to fluster you, of course) and he sees that you’re looking past him at the shelves of paint. “you need something down here?”

“um, yeah, the spray paint,” you reply, awkwardly trying to skirt around him to get into the aisle. he steps aside to let you through, but still follows you as you search for the color you want.

“what are you making?”

“i’m painting a scuffed up dresser i’ve had for a while, so i want something simple that’ll go with the rest of the things in my room,” you explain as you stop walking and crane your neck to scan the bottles on the top shelf. seonghwa stops behind you and places his hand on the small of your back as he reaches for a can just out of your reach.

“what about this one?” he offers, handing you a can of light blue paint. it’s really pretty, and it’ll stand out with the white furniture you already have, but you really like it.

“oh, that’s perfect!” you say as you take the can from his hands.

“there you go again,” seonghwa teases, and you shoot him a questioning look. he smiles as he responds. “calling me perfect?”

“i said the paint was perfect, weirdo,” you snap. “but thank you for finding this.”

“anytime,” he tells you. “you said your favorite color was blue right?”

“right...” you mumble, thinking back to the conversation you had at the bakery yesterday. “how’d you remember?”

“ugh, i’m hurt!” he exclaims, hand flying to his chest in mock surprise. “i can’t believe you already forgot that it’s my favorite color too.”

“hm, guess i was too distracted by how perfect you are,” you joke. seonghwa laughs at that, a sharp sound that seemed to catch him off guard. he covers his mouth to stifle the sound, but you’re close enough to the cash register now that it draws attention from san and mingi.

“find what you need?” san asks with a shit eating grin.

“hm, just about,” you say as you place the paint on the counter. “couldn’t find a hammer big enough to drop on your head, though.”

“wow, harsh,” san scoffs. “and to think i brought you here out of the goodness of my heart.”

you’re too busy half-bickering with san to notice that seonghwa has paid for your paint and the pens he promised hongjoong. he mumbles something to mingi, who then hands him a piece of paper. he scribbles his number down for you before handing you the can and his number.

“i gotta go, but i’ll see you later for study group, right?” he confirms. you’re still processing the fact that he keeps buying things for you and you can’t respond in time, so san steps in.

“yeah, y/n will be there,” san assures seonghwa. he nods and shoots you one last smile before he excuses himself and leaves. you’re stuck with san and that stupid grin again. he looks at you and then checks the paper with seonghwa’s number on it. “yep, i think you got what you needed.”

even though seonghwa very willingly gave you his number, you’re still afraid to text him. it’s kind of hard to believe that he’s into you the way you’re into him, so you’re fine with just seeing him for study dates. or, uh, not study dates. study gatherings. with just the two of you. because the other guys have bailed, again.

this time, though, you’re not working on music theory. you have an assignemnt due for your ethics class, and you need family and friends to read about your results from this morals test. you wanted san to do it, but he’s currently “chasing a sweet piece of ass,” whatever that means. he’s probably bothering his lab partner that he claims descended from greek gods. you would usually tease him for saying something like that, but it’s a thought you’ve had about seonghwa, so you kept your mouth shut.

anyway, you know you need someone to answer these questions for you, but you can’t bring yourself to ask seonghwa. he kept up his “perfect” demeanor again today, showing up at the bookstore before you so he could get you the coffee you like. you would ask why he keeps doing things like this for you, remembering your favorite color and your coffee order, but you’re afraid he’ll stop if you bring it up. little do you know, every time he learns something new about you, he writes it down in his notes app, keeping a running tab of the things you like.

“y/n?” you hear him ask. his voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you realize you’ve been staring at him this whole time. the smirk you’ve become so familiar with makes another appearance as he gets ready to tease you. “something on your mind?”

“no, i...no,” you stutter. “i’m just thinking.”

“about what?” he questions as he lifts his coffee cup to his lips. you watch the way he slightly pouts them before taking a sip and you have to stop yourself from staring again.

“just this ethics assignment i want to finish,” you explain. “sorry, i didn’t realize i was staring at you.”

“must be an important assignment,” he nods, leaning forward to put his cup back on the table in front of you. you get another glimpse at the star tattoo on his neck as he does. “because i was definitely staring at you too, and you didn’t even notice.”

“oh?”

“yep,” he confirms. “i was giving you my best puppy dog eyes and everything.”

“puppy dog eyes?” you ask, unsure of what’s coming. “do you need something?”

“eh, not really,” he shrugs. “i’m just worried.”

“why?”

“you never texted me the other night.”

“after the art store?” you ask incredulously.

“isn’t that when i gave you my number?” he smirks.

“i didn’t think you wanted me to text you immediately...”

“well, it’s been three days and i still don’t have your number,” he pouts.

“hold on a second,” you mumble, reaching for your bag. you fumble around in there, searching for the piece of paper with seonghwa’s number on it as he watches you fondly.

“what are you doing?”

“looking for your number,” you reply like it’s obvious. seonghwa laughs a little and places his hand on your arm to stop you.

“you do know i’m right next to you, and i could just put my number in myself?” he asks, eyes sparkling as he half-smiles at you. you blush, because no, you weren’t thinking about that. you sheepishly hand him your phone and watch as he adds his number and then texts himself. he gives your phone back and replaces it with his own before asking, “what’s your favorite emoji?”

“um, the smiling cowboy?” you offer, not sure why he’s asking. he laughs again, like he did in the art store, but this time it’s harder for him to quiet the breathy giggles coming from his chest.

“why that one?” he asks, typing something quickly.

“it’s funny,” you shrug. “why?”

“needed something cute to put next to your name, but you’re a weirdo, so it’s not as cute as i was imagining,” he explains, showing you the contact card in his phone. your number is saved as “y/n 🥰🤠” and you can’t help but laugh. you look up at seonghwa, warmth in your eyes, and he starts laughing too.

“see?” you giggle. “it is funny.”

“whatever, at least now i have your number.”

after exchanging numbers with seonghwa, you’re starting to let yourself believe little by little that he might feel the same way you do. it’s not anything serious, but there’s definitely something there. the texts he sends are always flirtatious, and it has your heart beating faster every time you get a notification, hoping that it’s him. you’re in the middle of studying for your spanish final when you feel your phone vibrate on the bed next to you, and you smile when you see who it’s from.

seonghwa 🥺💫, 6:28pm: are you busy rn?

you, 6:28pm: not really, just studying

seonghwa 🥺💫: can’t be studying too much if you replied that quickly 🥸

you: what do u want

seonghwa 🥺💫: be nice :-(

you: sorry

you: hi seonghwa, how are you? what do you want.

seonghwa 🥺💫: come get dinner with me?

you: right now?

seonghwa 🥺💫: no, in 30 years. yes right now

you: but i’m studying ://

seonghwa 🥺💫: liar!

you: fine, when and where?

seonghwa 🥺💫: i’ll pick you up in ten 🤠

“you sure like staying close to campus, huh?” you ask seonghwa as he walks you about a block from your usual hangout and to a little hole in the wall restaurant that looks like it could seat maybe 20 people, uncomfortably.

“i know what i like,” he responds with a shrug. “speaking of things i like, you look nice.”

“oh, thank you,” you semi-laugh. you’d been close to panic trying to figure out what to wear (because you’re not sure if this is a date) so you went with something simple, but you’re glad seonghwa likes it. not that you wanted to impress him. but you did, a little. anyway, he looks...well, perfect, wearing black ripped jeans and a velvet-y navy shirt. you continually have to stop yourself from reaching out and stroking his arm just to feel the soft fabric (and maybe his muscles).

“so i take it you’ve never been here before?” he asks as he hands you a menu. you shake your head no in response. you can’t tell if he’s doing it intentionally, but seonghwa leans closer into your side as he explains. “you pick a main entree, but each dish comes with these sides. they say no substitutes, but i know the guy behind the counter so you can ask for more of something else if you don’t like one of them.”

“i might do that,” you say. “i don’t really want dumplings, so could i get extra sweet potatoes?”

“of course,” he nods, noting the way you smile slightly. it makes your eyes light up, and his heart does a little backflip knowing that he’s the reason for it. well, the sweet potatoes probably are, but he’s the one getting the sweet potatoes, so he’s taking that win for himself. once you both confirm what you want, he places his hand on your back and guides you to the counter.

“hey seonghwa!” the tall guy with a lopsided smile behind the register greets. “long time no see. who’s your friend?”

“hey yunho,” seonghwa smiles back. “this is y/n, a vip, so make sure you give us the good stuff.”

“extra sweet potatoes?” yunho laughs. you and seonghwa both nod as yunho continues taking your order, and you find yourself comfortably leaning into seonghwa as you wait for yunho to calculate the price. before seonghwa can even think about taking his wallet out, you’re handing yunho cash for the food, which makes seonghwa sputter.

“what? y/n, i was going to pay,” he whines, and you simply shake your head.

“nope, my turn,” you tell him. “you’ve bought me coffee too many times.”

“but i asked you out! i don’t want you to pay on our first date if i’m the one who brought you here,” he continues to complain.

“so this is a date?” you confirm, right as yunho asks suggestively “oh, this is a date?”

“yunho, give y/n’s money back,” seonghwa says, ignoring the two of you. “i’m paying.”

“yunho, if you give me that money i’ll be forced to leave and stand seonghwa up for our date,” you say, emphasizing the last word. now you’re glad you wore clean pants.

“seonghwa, why don’t you let y/n pay for this, and then you can get the next one?” yunho suggests, sending you a wink before he turns to the kitchen to share your order with the chef. you’re left with a flustered seonghwa, which is a sight you’re not used to, and it makes you laugh.

“c’mon,” you say as you pull on his arm. “let’s go find a table.”

you’re the only ones in the restaurant, so the food comes out pretty quick, and you have to stifle a laugh when you see that someone has arranged the sweet potatoes on a separate plate in the shape of a heart. seonghwa blushes at this, and you’re taken aback by how shy he’s suddenly become.

for some reason, seonghwa showing signs of nervousness puts you at ease, and you lead the conversation to something stupid san told you about the boys and their shenanigans at their dorm. the story has seonghwa laughing, and he confirms that yes, yeosang does have a sword by the tv, and yes, hongjoong did threaten to use it on him after he lost an intense match of fifa.

“in hongjoong’s defense,” seonghwa begins, “i do think yeosang cheated. wooyoung was definitely helping him.”

“it still sounds ridiculous,” you tell him. “why does anybody need a sword?”

“yeosang is just...yeosang,” seonghwa replies. “he’s weird but he won’t admit that to anyone.”

“i’m just saying, if i went to someone’s house and there was a katana by the tv, i’d haul my ass outta there.” seonghwa giggles at how serious you look, but this conversation reminds him...

“you never showed me your room,” he says bluntly. you pause for a moment, spoon halfway to your mouth, and seonghwa realizes how that must sound. “i mean, the paint, your dresser. you never showed me a picture once you fixed it up.”

“oh,” you breathe out. “let me grab my phone, i can show you.”

“show him what?” a familiar voice suddenly asks from the seat next to you. when you notice that san, and some of your other friends, have snuck their way into the restaurant, you have to keep yourself from groaning.

“why are you here.”

“i’m hungry,” san replies, then turns to seonghwa. “you didn’t tell us you were getting dinner.”

“i didn’t want to,” seonghwa deadpans. “ i wanted it to be just me and y/n.”

“too late for that, pal,” honjoong says as he slides into the seat across from you. “hi y/n.”

“hey hongjoong,” you grumble. “please tell me you’re getting your food to go.”

“we were, but then we saw our good friends eating all by themselves and thought we should join them,” hongjoong teases. by now, the rest of the boys have sat down around you, some at other tables, and one of them you don’t recognize. that must be jongho, their younger “roommate” who technically lives in first year housing but doesn’t get along with the other guy in his room. you’ve heard seonghwa complain that jongho eats all of his snacks.

“well, i hope you enjoy your food, but seonghwa and i were just about to leave,” you lie, looking at seonghwa with a stare that pleads ‘please go along with this.’

“where are you going?” wooyoung asks, one table over.

“my apartment,” you respond quickly, standing up as seonghwa follows your cue with a stupidly adorable look on his face.

“oh, perfect!” san chirps. “we’ll come with you!”

so much for your date with seonghwa. it was hard to stop the boys from insisting they all join you at your apartment, especially after yunho said his shift was over and he could really use some destressing. and by destressing he meant booze, so you currently have 8 tipsy boys scattered across your living room. if you thought they were loud before...it’s amazing that your neighbors haven’t complained yet.

it started off innocent enough, you were just playing card games at first and the loser of each round had to drink. then it turned into never have i ever, and each time you put a finger down you had to drink. then yeosang suggested shots, and it really went downhill from there. san tried convincing everyone to play a round of spin the bottle just for the chance of making you and seonghwa kiss, but mingi and wooyoung were the only ones down, so majority ruled there.

“san, stop pouting,” you laugh, noticing that he’s upset over his evil plan not working out.

“it’s fine,” he lies, duck lips on full display.

“spin the bottle is such a tween-y game too,” jongho pipes in. “and we’re adults, so it would be kinda stupid to play it anyway.”

“says the baby of the group,” yeosang scoffs.

“what about truth or dare?” hongjoong suggests. “still immature, but we can make it fun.”

“yes!” san shouts, suddenly back in a positive mood.

“i’ll start,” mingi volunteers. he takes a deep breath as he looks around the room, eyes narrowing when he looks at you and seonghwa. you’re currently smushed into your armchair together, not really by choice, because the couch is completely full and neither of you wanted to sit on the floor (you know how dirty it is, and seonghwa has a bad hip). thankfully, mingi has mercy on you and directs his gaze to his best friend. “yunho, truth or dare?”

“truth,” yunho slurs out. you’d say he’s the opposite of stressed by now.

“did you sleep with that girl you met at the party last week?”

“no,” yunho replies quickly, cheeks turning a knowing shade of red. “i just walked her home.”

“and went missing until the next morning?” yeosang asks. he gets a few snickers, and you laugh a little too because you remember san and wooyoung talking about their friend who disappeared for a few hours last weekend.

“whatever,” yunho groans. “yeosang. truth or dare.”

“dare,” yeosang chooses confidently.

“kiss wooyoung on the cheek.”

“no,” he replies, just as confidently.

“then take another shot,” yunho concedes, waving his hand at the stubborn boy. wooyoung mumbles something about how kissable he is as yeosang downs what looks like more than just a regular shot.

“this is boring,” jongho whines, which makes him the next target. he chooses dare, and you have to detach yourself from seonghwa so you can go into your kitchen and find the lemon juice in your fridge so jongho can chug what’s left. he’s sputtering after a few sips and gives up, grumbling up to you, “ i hate you for that.”

“hey, it wasn’t my dare,” you defend yourself. “you owe me lemon juice.”

“i’ll give it to you if you choose dare,” jongho challenges. you roll your eyes and take the bait, earning a round of ooo’s from the boys around you.

“make her kiss seonghwa,” someone hisses.

“or me!” wooyoung chirps. jongho looks over at him with a death glare, and wooyoung shrugs. “i just want someone to want to kiss me.”

“i think you’re cut off,” hongjoong says as he leans across your coffee table to move the bottle away from wooyoung.

“everyone be quiet!” san shouts. “jongho has to give y/n a dare.”

“hmmm,” jongho starts, tapping his finger on his chin. “what should i do?”

“for someone who said this was boring, you’re really milking this,” seonghwa says under his breath. you’re perched on the arm of the chair, close enough to hear him, but thankfully no one else does.

“what’s that other childish game called?” jongho wonders aloud. “seven minutes in heaven? i think you should do that with seonghwa.”

“do i have to?” you pout, and your reluctance makes seonghwa stiffen. he thinks you said that because you’re uncomfortable, and not because you don’t want the boys pressing their ear up to the door while the two of you make out.

“rules are rules,” hongjoong concludes, nodding his head toward your room. “go have fun. i’ll keep the kids from bothering you.”

you look to seonghwa, who isn’t looking directly at you. you tentatively take his hand, giving it a squeeze before you stand up and lead him to your room. there are so many catcalls, whistles and cheers coming from your friends that you barely hear san say “take your time! it doesn’t have to be just seven minutes!”

once you get to your room, you let seonghwa go in first and then you lock the door behind you. he quirks an eyebrow at that, and you shrug shyly.

“don’t want one of them bursting in,” you explain. seonghwa nods, and you both fall silent. it’s not necessarily awkward, just tense. you both want to do what seven minutes in heaven is meant for, but you’re not gonna make the first move and seonghwa still isn’t sure you even want to be in this situation. so he takes this time to turn around and take your room in, pointing to your dresser.

“is this it?” he asks. you hum out a yes in response, and he runs his hand over the freshly painted wood. “it looks nice. whoever picked out the color sure knows what he’s doing.”

“eh, he’s just lucky,” you joke, and you both laugh. you move to stand next to him and place your hand on top of his. “sorry we couldn’t finish our date.”

“sorry my friends are so annoying,” seonghwa adds.

“sorry san pushed me into your lap earlier,” you continue, and seonghwa smirks.

“well, i didn’t mind that,” he says. “i wanted you to sit with me, but i didn’t want to draw attention.”

“oh,” you squeak, feeling a blush on its way to your cheeks. a heavy silence falls over you, and seonghwa is the first to break it.

“listen, if you don’t want to kiss me, that’s cool,” he begins. “i kinda got the vibe earlier that you didn’t want to do this, and that’s cool. if you don’t want to do this we’re still cool.”

“you don’t sound very cool about it,” you chuckle, and seonghwa’s face flushes. “but i was only nervous because i didn’t know if you wanted to kiss me.”

“oh i want to kiss you,” he says firmly. “have for a while.”

“why don’t you do it then?” you challenge. seonghwa takes a step closer to you, and before you know it he’s pinned you against your dresser. you balance your hands on it and the cool wood helps you ground yourself as your body heats up from having seonghwa so close.

“are you sure?” he asks, only a few inches from your face. you nod and whisper out “i’m sure” and seonghwa quickly cups your face and smothers you in a kiss. it starts off slow, and your face warms at his touch. once you relax into it you move your lips against his, nipping at his bottom lip slightly and earning a groan from the man before you. you take the chance to slip your tongue past his lips as you bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, slowly brushing through his soft hair. his hands find their way to your waist, gripping tightly but not too hard, and he leans in to get as close to you as possible. you keep kissing for a few moments, but eventually you need to breathe so you lightly tap on his neck. he pulls back, breathing heavy, and his smile shines like the most beautiful stars in the sky. “so?”

“so?” you repeat, equally out of breath.

“that was nice.”

“it was.”

“the boys are gonna know we made out.”

“of course they are,” you laugh. “your lips look swollen.”

“so do yours,” he counters.

“but wasn’t that the whole point of us coming in here?” you ask. your hands have fallen to his chest, and you finally get a chance to smooth out the soft velvet of his shirt. and you notice his chest is very, uh, firm, too.

“we didn’t have to kiss,” he says with a shrug. “we could’ve just talked.”

“about what?” you ask with a smile.

“my keen eye for interior design,” he replies. “how sexy you look in low lighting.”

“so you think i’m sexy?” you tease, and seonghwa rolls his eyes.

“i just had my tongue in your mouth, does that answer your question?”

another silence comes over you both, but this one is lighter than before. you’re subconsciously rubbing your hands over his shirt, and seonghwa brings a hand up to cover yours, stopping it right over his heart.

“we don’t have to tell them,” you offer. “i mean, they kept it a secret from us that they were trying to get us together this whole time.”

“oh no, i was fully aware of that,” seonghwa tells you, and you scoff. “do you think i really wanted to get out past midnight just to buy hongjoong some expensive markers? he never even paid me for them.”

“well now i really don’t want to tell them we kissed,” you whine. “how could everyone be in on this except me?”

“it was more fun that way,” seonghwa teases before pecking your lips. “but we can keep this between us, for now.”

“i think we should,” you say with a nod of finality. “it’s more fun that way.”

“c’mon, let’s go back out there before they send a search party.”

you return to the living room before seonghwa (so he can sneak into the bathroom and fix his hair) and you find most of the boys asleep on the floor. you sigh as your eyes meet hongjoong’s, and he shrugs.

“at least they didn’t bother you,” he says.

“can you help me find pillows and blankets for them, please?” you ask, and he nods before jumping into action. he throws one of the couch pillows down to yeosang, who takes it and hugs it to his chest. you have a couple extras in your hall closet and you pass them to yunho, who’s sitting up when you come back. he places one under mingi and another under jongho and keeps the last one for himself. san and wooyoung are on the couch, and hongjoong tells you he’s fine with the armchair. seonghwa is out of the bathroom by now, and, like the perfect man he is, he’s carrying blankets in his arms. the three of you work on getting all the boys covered before you realize that seonghwa doesn’t have a place to sleep.

“i can take another spot on the floor,” he assures you. “do you have another pillow i can use?”

“let him sleep in your room, y/n,” san mumbles from underneath wooyoung. you pause and look at seonghwa, who’s looking back at you with something you can’t read in his eyes.

“it’s not a bad idea,” hongjoong pipes in from somewhere within the blanket cocoon he made for himself. “he was just there. you can put him on the floor.”

“y/n?” seonghwa asks, pulling your attention back to him. “i don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.”

you would try to fight it, so you could hopefully ignore taunts from the boys in the morning, but you’re suddenly really tired and you just want to lay down.

“i’m ok with it if you are,” you yawn. “take the rest of those blankets, we can use those for your bed.”

“make good choices,” honjoong mumbles as seonghwa leads you back to your room, and you hear san going “oooooo” as you close your door a second time tonight. this time you don’t lock it though, and when you turn around you see the blankets on the floor and seonghwa sprawled out on your usual side of the bed, so you tell him.

“well why don’t you come join me then?” he teases with a grin. you blush and shake your head.

“scoot over.”

he does, but only by an inch. he still looks at you with that flirty glint in his eyes, and you can only shake your head again as you crawl into the tiny space next to him. he immediately wraps an arm around your waist and gives you a tight hug, placing a kiss on your shoulder.

“thank you,” he whispers into your back.

“for what?” you reply.

“for not putting me on the floor. and for liking me.”

you just woke up from maybe the best night of sleep you’ve ever had. seonghwa’s arms and legs are draped over yours, so you can’t get up without waking him, but having him so close is a welcome source of warmth. your apartment is quiet, and the sun is peacefully filtering into your room through your curtain. it’s the perfect moment, with your perfect boy, until-

“i think they’re still asleep,” you hear someone whisper from the hallway.

“wooyoung, leave them alone!” another voice hisses. there’s silence for a moment, and then a smack, followed by someone jiggling the doorknob to your room. you quickly untangle yourself from seonghwa before you watch as the door cracks open a bit, revealing wooyoung in all his bed-headed glory. you close your eyes as much as you can while still peeking at who’s sneaking into your room, and you see jongho close behind him. he must’ve been the one who got smacked. or did the smacking. either way, they’re both staring at you and seonghwa in your bed, but you notice wooyoung smile and pause.

“i knew it! they definitely got together last night.”

“how do you know?” jongho asks. “maybe y/n let seonghwa sleep on the bed because of his old man hips.”

“whatever. they’re in the same bed, so that’s at least something,” wooyoung replies. “lame, but still something.”

“what did you expect?” jongho asks incredulously. “you thought we would catch them doing it?”

“i mean, not exactly, but couldn’t i get a little cuddling maybe?”

“you want me to cuddle you hyung?” jongho deadpans.

“yes, actually-”

“hey!” a third voice whisper shouts. you hear footsteps and then you see hongjoong pulling wooyoung out of your room by the neck of his shirt. “leave them alone. and you, jongho, i’m surprised you’re playing along with this.”

“well...” jongho mumbles.

“well what?” hongjoong asks, sounding like the mom-est mom to ever mom.

“they’re the only ones that know how to make breakfast.”

“both of you, out! now!” hongjoong semi-shouts, and you feel seonghwa stirring behind you. hongjoong doesn’t realize you’re both awake and closes the door as he leaves.

“what time is it?” seonghwa grumbles out, and your heart skips a beat hearing how deep his voice is when he wakes up.

“early,” you reply, turning around to be face to face with him. his arms slowly snake around you as you look up at him and share a sleepy smile. “how can you look this good when you first wake up?”

“weird, i wanted to ask you the same thing,” seonghwa replies, leaning in to kiss you but you touch your fingers to his lips and stop him, so he pouts.

“uh uh, not until i brush my teeth,” you say as you try to get up, but seonghwa’s grip on your waist keeps you down.

“please,” he pouts again, sparkly eyes on full display as he pleads with you. it takes about half a second for you to cave and kiss him quickly, catching him off guard. he shifts to pull you on top of him and deepen the kiss, but he loses his grip on you and you’re able to slip out of bed before he can stop you. a noise comes from deep in his chest that almost sounds like a growl, and you shoot him a glare.

“hey, you got your kiss,” you warn. “now i’m going to make breakfast for the gremlins. do you want to help me?”

after the intrusion into your bedroom, wooyoung obviously told the boys what he saw. but, like jongho said, most of them thought it was just because of seonghwa’s hips that made you share a bed with him. there wasn’t enough evidence otherwise, and none of them really expected either of you to make a move despite their efforts. but they’re starting to get suspicious.

little do they know, after the set up fell into place, seonghwa wanted to take you on a real date. the only way to do that without your friends knowing was to sneak around without them, which was kind of fun. it was nice having this bubble with seonghwa, just the two of you, but it was getting harder to avoid your friends. seonghwa lived with them after all, so they pestered him about how often he was out and who he might be out with.

“san keeps asking if you’re a good kisser. i told him i didn’t know, and then he asked if he could find out for me. should i be concerned about that?”

“we need to be more careful, yeosang said he saw us at the taco place yesterday, and he said we hold hands weird.”

“hongjoong has been saving seats for us at the bookstore, and each time we don’t show up i think he steals something from me.”

you have been ditching study group lately, but that’s more because you need to do some deep studying for your other finals and your friends are too much of a distraction. seonghwa can be distracting too, but at least he can take a hint and back down when you really need to focus. it’s been nice actually, just spending time in his presence. you were so nervous around him just a few weeks ago, and now you feel like you could trust him with just about anything.

today, you don’t get any personal study time, though. your music theory final is coming up and seonghwa wants you to get all the terms memorized before the review session in class tomorrow. he’s motivating you with a kiss for each right answer and the promise of him making dinner once you’re done. you’re currently cruising on five wrong in a row, and you’re getting frustrated.

“c’mon y/n, you know this,” seonghwa encourages you, but you just whine in response. “we did this like four minutes ago, and i told you the answer so you could remember it.”

“yeah, well i obviously didn’t,” you snap, and seonghwa fakes being hurt. “sorry. can we skip this and come back to it?”

“sure,” he agrees quickly. “but first you need to write down the circle of fifths for me.”

“i hate you.”

“hm, wrong answer,” he hums. “but kiss anyway. maybe that’ll keep you from getting so grumpy.”

“i am not grumpy,” you defend after kissing him gently. “i’m stressed.”

“you know what you need?”

“hm?”

“you need to go on another date,” he begins. “with me, obviously.”

“damn, i wanted to know if yunho was free,” you tease, and seonghwa doesn’t think it’s funny. “now who’s grumpy?”

“ignoring that,” he scoffs, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile.

“when would we go? i’m really busy the next few days.”

“what about after class? we could both clean up and do something nice before we get some dinner?” seonghwa suggests. “why don’t we go to that art exhibit you told me about?”

“ugh,” you groan as you learn your head on his shoulder. “that sounds amazing, but we both said we’d be at study group tomorrow, remember? hongjoong practically begged me to be there, and i said i would ask you to come.”

“what about not letting them know we’re a thing?” he pouts. you don’t tell him about the youngest two that saw you all cuddled up, but instead you assure him that you inviting him to study group wouldn’t look unusual to the boys.

“plus, if we both cancel last minute, they’d know for sure we were up to something together,” you continue. “so yes, we need to go on another date, but just not tomorrow.”

“fine,” he mumbles. “now i am grumpy.”

“would something from the cafe make it better, my little boba ball?” you ask in a baby voice.

“ooh, actually, boba sounds good,” seonghwa smiles. “let’s go.”

the next day you get to the bookstore late because your professor gave a pop quiz at the end of class and you’ve been so busy studying music theory you forgot to study for anything else, so you needed all the time you could get. when you finally arrive, all of the boys are there, surprisingly. since you’ve never seen yunho, mingi and jongho here before you’re a little confused, but happy to see them nonetheless.

as you walk up to the usual spot, you notice a coffee cup sitting in front of an empty chair, and you point to it as the boys greet you.

“is this for me?” you ask, placing your bag on the ground before grabbing the warm mug. “thank you, coffee angel.”

“you’re welcome, actual angel,” seonghwa replies, and you almost choke on your first sip. what is he doing?? you’re supposed to be sneaky sneaks and keep your relationship quiet, but here he is flirting with you in front of everyone!

except, that’s what he did before you started dating too, so it’s not out of the ordinary. in fact, no one pays any mind to it, so you’re left with a burnt tongue and blushy cheeks while seonghwa looks at you with a stare that only you would understand. you quickly shoot him a wink before you put your mug down and reach for your notes.

“um, hello? what are you guys doing?” you ask yeosang next to you, who’s rabidly tapping at his phone, just like everyone else. if they weren’t distracted they might have picked up on the vibes between you and seonghwa, but thankfully they’re the oblivious ones now.

“playing a game,” half of them respond, just as hongjoong says “writing lyrics” and jongho mumbles “texting my mom.”

“aren’t we supposed to study?” you ask. “or did you already learn everything in the world while i was gone?”

“well you’ve missed a lot of study sessions, y/n,” san begins. “so yes, we have learned everything. now we just come here to hang out.”

“so then why did you insist on me being here, joong?” you ask newly orange-haired hongjoong. it’s been a while since you’ve seen him, he must’ve dyed it recently.

“we missed hanging out with you,” he says simply, eyes peeking up from his phone. your heart constricts at this, and you catch seonghwa’s eyes again. you might have to rethink the whole sneaking around thing if they really do miss you.

“yeah, we missed you AND we had to make sure you and seonghwa are still spending time together,” wooyoung adds, wiggling his eyebrows.

“where have you been anyway?” yeosang asks. “you don’t have other friends.”

“yes i do,” you scoff.”

“give me names and numbers.”

“ignore him,” yunho tells you, and you nod.

“i always do. but i’ve been really stressed about finals, so i had to do some soul searching on my own to decide if i need to graduate or not.”

“seems fair,” mingi agrees. “i almost had to drop a class.”

“because he forgot he was even enrolled in it,” jongho clarifies, and you laugh.

“but seonghwa has been missing a lot lately too,” san starts. “i wonder what he’s been doing.”

“or who,” wooyoung snickers, and hongjoong reaches over mingi to slap him.

“i haven’t been feeling well,” seonghwa says with a shrug. “i’ve mostly been in my room, or at the pharmacy to get medicine.”

“oh, so you could’ve bought new paper towels for the dorm then, huh?” hongjoong asks, and as the two of them start to bicker, yeosang nudges your arm.

“i saw you two,” he says quietly. “at the mexican restaurant.”

“i know,” you whisper back.

“so i know you’re dating.”

“are you gonna say anything?”

“hmmm, no,” he thinks. “but you have to buy my silence.”

“with coffee?” you offer, and yeosang smiles. he stands up and puts his phone away before speaking, looking directly at seonghwa.

“my best friend y/n is gonna buy me coffee, we’ll be back,” he says as he loops his arm around your shoulders. seonghwa watches as you walk away (and stares at your ass) but he’s mostly thinking about how he’s a little jealous right now. like, he knows you wouldn’t do anything, he trusts you, but he doesn’t want his friends thinking you have a thing for anyone but him. so while you’re gone, he talks.

“i haven’t been sick,” he admits. “i’ve been seeing y/n.”

“we all knew, dude,” hongjoong says casually, and everyone agrees.

“then why didn’t you say anything?!”

“because YOU weren’t saying anything,” jongho replies.

“yeah, we figured that we did enough trying to get the two of you together, so if you didn’t end up dating then that was your fault. we were just waiting on you to make a move,” san explains.

“then why did you let us lie to you like that?”

“it was fun,” wooyoung shrugs. “by the way, did y/n let you sleep in the bed because of your hips, or because you wanted to cuddle?”

the red tint on seonghwa’s cheeks gives him away, and the boys start laughing and ooo’ing so loud he’s afraid you’ll hear it over by the coffee counter.

“ok, ok, just. keep this quiet for now,” he says. “y/n may still want this to be private.”

“but you just told us about it,” yunho says. “why would you do that if you knew y/n wouldn’t want you to?”

“well,” seonghwa begins. “i need your help with a date.”

seemingly by an act of god, you have time this weekend to go on a date with seonghwa. little did you know, he’s the reason your plans suddenly freed up. san said you could critique him and wooyoung for their dance final another day, hongjoong said he would send you his music theory notes from the review and save you hours of studying and then yeosang found the exact spanish book you needed to finish your performance final ahead of time. it was the perfect circumstances, orchestrated by your perfect boy and his perfect-adjacent friends, who all agreed to help him with this (hopefully) perfect date.

it starts with seonghwa picking you up from your apartment, coffee in hand.

“you’re the man of my dreams, you know that?” you say in passing as you grab the warm to-go cup. even if you were only saying it lightly, it made seonghwa’s heart soar. you notice he hasn’t said anything to you, so you meet his eyes to find them full of stars like always, but this time there’s something scheme-y in there. he’s up to something.

“are you ready for the best date of your life?” he asks with a smile that puts the stars in his eyes to shame.

“yes, i think,” you respond, grabbing your keys and locking your door. “but i don’t know what we’re doing.”

“and it will stay that way until we get there,” seonghwa says firmly as he laces his hand into yours. you squeeze his hand and sigh.

“i guess i just have to trust you then.”

“but that won’t be hard right?”

“wait, didn’t you say something earlier about going to that art exhibit? is that it?” you question, even though you know he won’t budge. seonghwa just shakes his head no and punches the button for the elevator. a moment of silence passes before you guess again. “a movie? you rented out a movie theater, like you said you wanted to?”

“i tried, but it was expensive,” he admits and you have to laugh. “funds are tight right now.”

“i watched you buy a couple hundred dollars worth of legos the other day babe. maybe that’s why the date fund is lacking.”

“you’re not coming between me and my collectables, y/n,” seonghwa scolds. the elevator pings to open to the parking garage under your building, and you’re confused for a moment before he explains. “i want this to be a nice date, so yunho let me borrow his car. it would be no fun if we show up all sweaty because we were walking.”

yunho’s car, which is actually pretty nice thanks to all the tips he gets from flirting with clientele, is parked by the elevator. seonghwa leads you to your door and opens it for you, revealing a basket of flowers and candies in the seat. you coo as you pick it up, and seonghwa looks on proudly. you lean over to give him a kiss, and you whisper your thanks as you pull away.

“that was mingi’s idea,” seonghwa tells you, smiling brightly “i got all your favorites.”

“i see that.”

“but look around the flowers,” he guides you. “there’s something else.”

you hold the basket up to eye level, noticing the silver sparkle around the stems of the flowers. is it glitter? you tug at a flower and realize it’s a chain, and attached is a hand drawn star charm to match the tattoo on the back of seonghwa’s neck.

“seonghwa, this is beautiful,” you say breathlessly. “we’re gonna match! that’s so cute. who’s idea was this?”

“would you believe me if i said it was mine?”

“no.”

“that’s what jongho said too,” seonghwa laughs. “it was his idea.”

“tell him thank you,” you say as you play with the charm. “mingi and yunho too. it’s a good date so far.”

“oh baby, it hasn’t officially started yet.”

in the car, seonghwa plays a mix of songs that he really likes, and he’s mixed in some of your favorites too. he has to keep convincing you that the songs aren’t clues, because you ask every time a new song plays.

“so are the songs just distractions?” you ask, finally giving up on getting any information out of him.

“why do you ask that?” he smirks as he turns down a familiar road.

“because i can tell you just took the long way to the record store,” you explain. “are you stalling?”

“me, what? why?” his response does nothing to manage your suspicions, and suddenly you remember how your friends have helped with the date so far. are they all in on this? you need answers.

“seonghwa, i swear to god, if san or wooyoung jumps out to surprise me wherever we’re going-”

“that won’t happen,” seonghwa laughs while he parks the car. “we’re here anyway, and i promise this is the last surprise of the night.”

“the record store?” you question, looking up at the shop you’ve been to countless times to shop and to bother hongjoong while he works.

“yeah, you said there was a new album out you wanted to get, right?”

“yeah,” you blush. “but i just said that in passing, i didn’t expect you to remember.”

“y/n, i want to know everything about you,” seonghwa says seriously. “so of course i remembered. wait, don’t get out yet. i’ll open the door for you.”

as seonghwa helps you out of the car, you quiz him on the other things you’ve said around him that you didn’t think he remembered. sadly, he does remember you saying your favorite disney movie is ratatouille and you’ve always wanted to try the mushroom/cheese concoction remy makes in the first scene.

“that’s a little embarrassing,” you sigh as you reach for the door. you’re going to complain some more about how seonghwa doesn’t need to remember everything about you, but the sight in front of you makes you stop mid-breath.

the record store has been decorated from floor to ceiling in fairy lights, and there’s more flowers all over the place. as you look around, you notice the flowers are tucked in the shelves next to your favorite artists. next to the door is the album you were talking about, and a little further down you see your favorite album of all time with a few extra flowers next to it. you’re still taking everything in when you notice hongjoong behind the counter.

“did you help him with this?” you ask breathlessly, and hongjoong nods.

“yeah, but the flowers next to the albums was my idea,” hongjoong explains. “we’re running a new special called “y’n’s favorites” so everything that’s marked with a flower is yours, if you want it. everything is on the house.”

“i...i don’t know what to say,” you start. you turn to seonghwa and there are those starry eyes that you love to see. you reach out to cup his face and smile. “thank you. this is...perfect.”

“it’s even more perfect now that i’m here!” wooyoung shouts from the front door of the shop, followed by san and yeosang. you look at seonghwa and all he does is laugh.

“what? at least he didn’t jump out and scare you,” seonghwa teases.

“oh, i would never,” wooyoung nods with a half-serious look on his face. “but i definitely wouldn’t do that when i have your dinner in my hands, i can’t let all this hard work spill.”

“especially not on my clean floor,” hongjoong warns.

“you made dinner for us?” you ask wooyoung, but you’re looking at seonghwa, who simply shrugs.

“yep, i made one of your favorites and then threw in a couple recipes i thought you’d both like,” wooyoung says as he and the two other boys place food down on the counter by the register.

“and what did you two help with?” you ask san and yeosang.

“who do you think made this place so beautiful?” yeosang asks incredulously.

“yeosang did the lights and i bought all the flowers,” san explains with a smile that makes his eyes turn into happy half moons. “you’d be surprised how many places i had to go to get all your favorites.”

“i really don’t know what to say,” you whisper in disbelief. “i can’t believe you all did this for me.”

“it was all seonghwa’s idea,” san tells you. “we did it for both of you.”

“yeah, we’re just his little minions,” yeosang jokes, and wooyoung giggles.

“you tell me how that food tastes, got it?” he asks as he backs out of the store. “don’t say anything mean though. i only accept compliments.”

“wooyoung,” seonghwa smiles tightly. “please leave.”

wooyoung holds the door open for san and yeosang as he gives seonghwa a thumbs up. san waves goodbye sweetly and yeosang gives you a knowing smile before the door closes behind them.

“well, i think that’s my cue to go,” hongjoong says, handing the keys to seonghwa. “don’t make a mess. if i get fired, i’m selling all the stuff i stole from you when you were sneaking around with y/n and not telling us about it.”

“i’ll keep him under control,” you assure hongjoong, who nods as heads to the door. you don’t see him leave because seonghwa has stepped in front of you, and he places his hands on your waist to pull you closer.

“so,” he begins.

“so.”

“what do you want to listen to while we eat?” he asks, pulling you by the waist over to a row of records. you stand there quietly, looking over the albums hongjoong pulled to the front for you, and you just can’t believe how much work went into this date. you can’t believe how sweet it is that each of your friends helped, and you put your hand on seonghwa’s and give it a squeeze.

“hwa,” you whisper. he hums in response, but you place your hand on his cheek and guide his gaze to yours.

“thank you,” you tell him. “thank you for this.”

he smiles at you with a look in his eyes that can’t be anything else but love, and you smile back with that much love, if not more, in your own face. you use the hand on seonghwa’s chin to guide his lips to yours, and you lose yourself in the kiss, in seonghwa, for who knows how long.

“mm, y/n,” he mumbles against your lips before detaching. “the food will get cold.”

“you’re right,” you sigh. “but we didn’t pick any music.”

“how about this?” he asks, pulling an album out from the top shelf. you smile at the cover, knowing exactly what song seonghwa wants you to hear.

“perfect,” you agree. “i’ll put it on while you get the food?”

and that’s how you end up eating the perfect meal, on your perfect date, with all of your favorite things around you, sitting right next to your perfect boy.

#seonghwa #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa imagine #seonghwa one shot #ateez one shot #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #seonghwa imagines #ateez fluff #park seonghwa #park seonghwa fluff #park seonghwa imagine #park seonghwa imagines #park seonghwa one shot

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yee-fxcking-haw · 3 years

Text

•Love Me Tender•

Summary: After waiting, watching, and wanting, Tamaki finally has a way to get to you. He's willing to do use some questionable methods, make deals with shifty friends, whatever it takes. He'll have you.

Pairing: Pro Hero Tamaki Amajiki x FemReader (both 18+)

Warnings: Yandere behavior, stalking, coercion, sabotage, manipulation, hard dom Tamaki, slight brat reader, mostly sub reader, unprotected sex, virginity loss, oral sex (female receiving), tentacle play (oral, vaginal, anal, gagging), bondage (with tentacles), mild dumbification, degradation, spit play, cum play, wittle bit of bloodplay, creampie, marking, possession kink, collaring. Kinda-sorta dub-con (not really imo but warning just in case)

Word Count: 11,576

A/N: Jesus fucking christ I did it.

Part One: Porcelain Obsession

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Tamaki awoke painfully this morning, body aching and covered in dried sweat. It wasn't a feeling to be proud of, but it was a feeling he cherished.

Your stolen underwear is clutched in his hand still, like a lifeline. It still smells just a little bit like you… but not enough. He couldn't feel you or taste you or hold you. He had to figure something out, quickly. He had to find a way to make you his.

Luckily, Tamaki knows exactly how to make that happen…

***

You hang up your apron with a deep sigh, wiping sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. Thank god it's only a half day, you finally have an afternoon off, a day to spend by yourself.

You bid your coworkers farewell and head out of the shop. You wander home, earbuds in as you try to drown out the noise of the city. Once you're home, you notice a small box on your doorstep.

It's a pretty little gold box with purple ribbon, a tiny note is attached to the top. The scribbled writing reads,

"I thought this would look pretty on you, I'm sorry about the weird exit last night. I'd like to take you to get some coffee to make up for it, if you'll let me." - Tamaki

Your heart flutters a bit at the note, you had deduced you were nothing more than a charity case. Him walking you home was just what he felt was fair in exchange for the use of your phone, he didn't really… like you? Did he?

His exit was just a little bit strange, he seemed almost panicked. You wanted to ask if everything was ok, but figure it best to stay out of a hero's business. Who knows what door you'd be opening if you started to ask too many questions.

Beneath his note is a phone number, obviously his. You can't call him right away, it might seem desperate, but you can open the box.

When the lid comes off, you gasp quietly at what's hidden inside. On a delicate silver chain sits one lovely little pearl. You stand there, amazed and confused. Wondering why on earth somebody like Suneater would leave such a precious little gift for you.

***

You called the number left on the note about an hour after receiving it. As soon as Tamaki picks up the phone your heart leaps into your throat.

"I didn't think y-you'd call." He laughs afterwards, but you can hear traces of genuine anxiety underneath.

"Well, what kind of an asshole would I be if I didn't call back the hero that saved me from a lonely walk home?" Your face crinkles up at your horrid attempt at flirting.

He doesn't seem to mind, though. He gives you a sweet laugh, putting some of your nerves at ease.

"So, uh- coffee?" He wonders.

"I'd love to, I just got off work, but I imagine you're busy doing hero stuff. We can-"

"No I'm not busy." He says quickly, his urgency makes you smile. He's almost boyish in his approach, and it's very charming.

Somehow, between the two of you suffering your way through the conversation, you set a time for coffee.

***

Tamaki makes a quick stop before meeting you, visiting a horrid friend of his in an alleyway a hero should never be unless he's kicking someone's ass.

His "friend" turns out to be a little more than your average criminal. He's a wicked looking man, with a mess of black hair and an abundance of scarring littering his body.

They call him Dabi.

"So what's the plan here? Am I just scarin' the poor girl or do I get to have some real fun?" His smile is devilish, and his eyes are telling.

It makes Tamaki's skin crawl, he stares daggers at the man leaning against the brick of the alleyway.

"If you touch her, I will gut you like a fucking fish." Tamaki says, he's full of rage, but he says it so calmly, so matter of fact.

"You can try." Dabi laughs, "You forget how easy it is to cook seafood."

Tamaki stands there for a brief second, watching the villain, weighing his options.

"I'm not here for banter, can you do the job or not?" His words are clipped, strangely articulate compared to his usual stutter.

"Yeah whatever, I got nothin' planned for tonight, and I do love making little girls scream." He tilts his head back against the wall as Tamaki turns to stalk away.

"Hey, Suneater." Dabi calls out with a lazy voice.

Tamaki freezes and keeps his back to Dabi. He turns his head to the side and waits for him to speak.

"Send her my way when you're done with her." If Tamaki had less of the public eye on him, he would have slit Dabi's throat then and there.

Instead, he swallows his rage as he tosses a hefty wad of cash over his shoulder.

"Don't be late."

***

"You always just drink it black? Not even a little bit of sugar?' You ask, astounded by Tamaki's ability to drink the bitter liquid without any sweetener.

"Sugar is kind of useless for me, I try to eat things that'll help me with m-my quirk." He explains, his deep eyes wander while he talks, like he's watching for something.

That must come with being a hero.

"Does coffee help your quirk?" You ask, a smile playing at your lips when you see him frown at his drink.

"No, but it helps me focus."

You nod playfully before taking a sip, the cafe he's brought you to is incredibly charming. It's not an overly hip establishment, it's just a sweet little hidden gem. Tucked away into a forgotten street, it gives the impression that it's a well kept secret between two best friends.

"Do you feel like people ask too much of you?" You question. It slips out so quickly, running away from you after launching out of your lips.

Your hatred for small talk gets the best of you and you jump the gun, as always. You want to hide, but not before you apologise a thousand times for being too straightforward.

Tamaki looks at you thoughtfully, his eyes show that he's shocked, but not offended.

"Sometimes. It can feel like people expect me t-to be the…" He pauses for a moment, mentally grasping for the right word.

"It feels like people expect Heroes to be this ultimate, universal band-aid. In a lot of ways, we are, but we're still h-human… I-I'm still human…" His voice slows down by the end of his sentence, like he's realized he might be over sharing.

But, you asked him, you wanted to know. You actually care about him? Every bone in his body is screaming at him to grab you, throw you over his shoulder and run away. He feels some carnal desire to just keep you. Hide you from every selfish asshole that would take advantage of the starstruck look in your beautiful eyes.

He can't, though… not yet.

"S-sorry…" He whispers.

And then, you reach across the table to take his hand in yours. He feels the contact all the up his arm, into his chest, into his heart.

So you do want him too.

"Please don't be sorry, I liked listening to you talk." You say quietly.

You did love it, you loved it because you've felt so unheard, so unseen. Being able to provide somebody else with a pair of listening ears serves as a kind of relief for those feelings.

"Can you tell me more?" You test, hand squeezing his own a little more.

He looks almost elated, thrilled to be seen, excited to be heard. Most of all, he's itching to finally have you.

***

The date was nothing short of wonderful, filled with cute little fumblings of words, hands brushing but never holding, and sharing bits and pieces of yourselves with each other.

You flop onto your bed, reminiscent of a teenager who's just had their first kiss. You didn't kiss him goodnight, you chickened out of that. But you did press your lips against his cheek for a brief moment, which seemed to have quite the effect on him.

His breath hitched, his fists balled at his sides, acting like he'd never been touched so tenderly. It made you wonder, is the Hero as lonely as you are?

You glance over at your night stand, seeing the pretty little necklace sitting in its box. You're washed with guilt as you realize you forgot to wear it to coffee, knowing he must have wanted you to. You take it out of the box carefully before pulling it around your neck and hooking it into place. It fits like a choker, snug against your skin, but it feels good to have it so close.

You're ripped from your musing when you hear the unmistakable sound of breaking glass.

Inside your house.

Your blood chills, hair stands up on the back of your neck and you rise from your bed slowly. You try to talk yourself down, kill the first nerves that consume your chest. It was probably a poorly balanced vase… except, you don't own any vases. It could have been a picture? Nope, not a picture, it was just glass… like a window breaking.

There's a gun in your office, but you're in the bedroom. You scan the room for something, anything that could be used for defense. Of course, nothing but a damn notebook.

The police, you should call the police. Your heart clenches when you hear the threatening sound of heavy footsteps falling down your hallway.

They're heading straight for your bedroom.

You lunge at the door, hand landing on the doorknob just as it begins to turn. Desperately, uselessly, you try to lock it. It's too late, though, it's already opening by the time your thumb lands on the lock.

You can hear your blood rushing when the door swings towards you, a large black boot planted on the other side to force it open.

"Sorry 'bout the window, sweetheart. I tried the front door, but it was locked." The intruder chuckles as he invades your bedroom.

You stumble back as you take in his sewn together form, a mess of black leather and scars. Wild, electric blue eyes devour your trembling form as you press yourself back into the wall.

"Oh, hon, you're shakin' like you're in danger. I ain't gonna hurt you, I'm gonna do the opposite." He stalks towards you, somehow moving in slow motion but with incredible speed all at the same time.

Your phone sits on your night stand, only feet away but all too unreachable. You're caged in by his arms as he towers over you, filling your nose with some horrid, smokey smell.

"P-please, you can have anything, j-just don't-"

Your words halt when a long, pale finger traces over your collar bone.

"Don't what? 'J-just don't' what?" He mocks you, eyes lit with a sadistic amusement.

Your heart rattles in your chest as tears prick your eyes, you can't fight him, he's huge. You don't have your gun. You don't have your phone. You're fucked.

"Cryin' already? What's the matter, doll?-" The hand traces your collar bone moves up to wrap around your throat, "Not a fan of villains?"

Your hands paw at his wrist, you will yourself to sputter something out, any kind of objection to whatever he has planned. You try to whimper out a 'stop', but when your mouth finally forms the word, the voice isn't yours, but it's familiar.

It's low, clipped and dangerous as it barks out the warning.

Suneater.

Suddenly, as if he's being yanked to the heavens by the Gods, your assailant is torn away from you. A large, red tentacle captures him by the waist and throws him across the room. You collapse to the ground instantly, curling around your legs as you hear the muffled sounds of a violent fight.

You hide in your own little world, trembling and clenching yourself. You take one peak from between your arms, just to see Tamaki place the intruder in a chokehold before barking some profane threat at him.

The villain is smiling the whole time, he even winks at you.

"If I ever see you near her again, you won't walk away with your life." Tamaki snarls as the stranger breaks away from his hold.

"She's not worth the trouble." He laughs, raising one hand before sending brilliant blue flames blasting towards Tamaki.

You scream involuntarily, reaching out for the Hero as he jumps away from the flames. Once they're gone, the villain is gone as well. Like some cheap magician disappearing off stage. The room is almost entirely untouched by the burst of fire, at most, the tip of your comforter is singed.

The second the fire is gone, Tamaki is walking towards you urgently, pulling you to your feet so he can cradle your face.

"Are you ok? Did he touch you? What happened?" His inky eyes search your face frantically.

You don't answer, you just stutter, clinging to his hands until you can finally squeak out, "I'm ok."

His shoulders drop as he sighs, hands loosening their grip. His eyes flicker down to the necklace, his gaze softens when he sees how pretty it looks on you.

"Y-you… Do you like it?" He asks timidly, glancing up at you.

You breathe for a moment, slightly taken aback by the sudden shift in attention.

"I love it." You say quietly, still trembling.

He just saved you, really saved you from a real villain who was planning God knows what, and he's worried about your necklace?

"It's so pr-pretty on you…" He reaches down to touch it, leaving one hand on your cheek.

You take the moment to breathe, remind yourself that you're safe, that you're with a hero now. You observe Tamaki's almost casual appearance, a dry fit shirt and simple tactical pants. It almost helps you relax, seeing him like so… at ease?

His fingers play with the pearl, deep eyes transfixed. Something nearly uncontrollable swells within his chest. It burns and aches and eats at him. You're so close, you're so warm, so soft. He could have you, he could just take you.

"Tamaki?" You prod gently, your own chest stirs, and something pulls you towards him.

His eyes snap up to yours, and something shifts in the air. It feels sticky, heavy, too hard to breathe. His gorgeous form towers over you, pressing you back up against the wall as his eyes devour your trembling body.

"Thank you f-for saving me." You whisper.

He nods earnestly, his breathing is shaking, his hands feel like they're holding back.

"Anything. Anything for you."

That line, that makes you ache.

How long have you felt so lukewarm, so overlooked and forgotten? Too long, far too long. Now, with Tamaki looking down at you like you're priceless, you feel fiery, you feel seen and remembered.

Your hands grasp at his wrists, your eyes flick down to his parted lips. You're not sure what you want to happen next, but you want him as close as you can get him.

"If you let me start, I will not stop." His voice drops and it makes your breath catch.

He feels it too, then.

Is it the high of what you've just gone through? Is it just your body trauma bonding with the man that just saved you? Or do you really, really want him so bad it hurts?

His tone is warning and his eyes are frantic.

"Please." Is the only thing that falls from your quivering lips.

Consequences be damned, motives especially be damned. You need him, and he needs you. That's enough explanation for tonight.

He consumes you much like the villains flames, his lips are on yours almost too fast, his hands are greedy as they hold your face to his.

While you feel similar to a lovesick girl getting kissed for the first time, Tamaki feels like a prisoner finally set free. He feels like a lion that was held in a cage and taunted with a piece of meat. He feels like the door has finally been opened, and he can finally sink his teeth in.

"I wanna feel you." He brings his mouth away from yours with much reluctance, leaving his forehead pressed against yours.

You flounder for a moment, with your mouth feeling dry and your limbs feeling heavy.

"Where?" You choke out, searching his face for any tell.

"God, everywhere." It's a broken request, said like a secret.

"Take it. Whatever you want." Your boldness surprises you both.

You're hooked on the exhilaration, you're craving more, you want to feel something. Even after just a walk home and a coffee date, you want to feel it with Tamaki.

"Don't give me that…" He shivers as he presses his body against yours, making it very evident how much of an affect you're having on him.

"I'll ruin you." He whimpers when you grind back against him, your hands tug at his shirt and you look up at him with wide eyes.

"Who said I don't want that?"

You both stand there frozen, waiting for the other to move, to prove that this isn't a dream.

"Fuck."

His hands descend from cradling your face so they can wrap around your neck with the most gentle grip.

He watches you intently, feels your breath quicken, cherishing the way you bite your lip when his fingers tighten slightly.

Internally, Tamaki is fighting the most challenging battle he's ever had to face. He's had to take on a wide variety of formidable enemies, but right now, nothing seems more formidable than having to hold himself back when he finally has you in his arms.

He wants to take and take and take, for as long as you'll let him… maybe even longer.

She's mine now.

Something shifts in his gaze just then, making him look almost primal. It makes your chest feel frozen, makes it difficult to breathe or focus.

His hands shift around your neck, they feel almost… slippery? Their texture is different, their movement is more fluid. Then, you feel it, the distinct sensation of a suction cup latching against your skin.

Tentacles. He's made each of his fingers a tentacle.

Your eyes stay locked on his, both of you in a heated trance as you watch how the other responds.

One slick tendril crawls up to latch onto your chin, he turns your head upwards and to the side with a thoughtful look. It's almost like he's sizing you up, appraising you.

After a thick moment of silence, he finally speaks.

"I'm going to make you cry." It's a depraved promise, beautifully whispered with no shame.

You stand there, held by him, captured by him. You're helplessly entranced, all rational thought is long gone as you reel over the implications of his statement. All you can know for sure, is you want more.

Despite every red flag, regardless of any common sense, you want more.

"I dare you." You say back to him, the desperation to feel anything other than mundane spurs you onward.

He receives the words like it's a smack to the face, some shock evident in his eyes. He didn't take you for a brat, but he can certainly roll with it.

"You're gonna make this fun for me, aren't you?" He questions, his tentacles grip you tighter now, reminding you who has the high ground.

Mine.

The air shifts, something heavier takes over the mood, it settles in your ribs and wraps around your heart.

He guides you away from the wall, shepherding you around until your back is towards your bed. He starts walking you backwards until your knees buckle once they hit the mattress.

You sit there, gazing up at him, held still by his quirk, transfixed by the power he exudes as he towers over you.

"Has anyone ever had you before?" He asks, finally returning his hand to normal so he can cradle your cheek.

The question has your stomach burning with nerves.

No, nobody ever has.

You shake your head, looking down, cheeks burning as you try to hide your embarrassment.

His reaction shocks you immensely, his whole body shutters and he drops to his knees. His hands settle on your waist as he moves between your legs.

"Th-this is… all mine then?" He asks, he rubs his thumbs over the bottoms of your ribs affectionately.

His eyes are wide and reverent as he waits for your answer, looking like you're some anointed goddess. His eyes skate over every feature he can, and he cherishes each one.

Your confession nearly knocks the wind out of him, especially with how sweet you look, all blushing and embarrassed. It makes his need to rip you apart even stronger.

"Please...let me give you everything…" His hands tighten on you and you feel them shaking.

You study him for a second, at a complete loss for words, he seems so… devoted. It pulls on your heart, clouds your mind and lights your body up. How could you possibly say no to him? How on earth could you turn someone away when they’re looking at you like you’re placed on an altar ready to be worshiped.

Carefully, like you’re trying not to frighten a beast, you reach out and touch his face. He moves into your touch like a lonely cat, desperate for affection and recognition.

“Please…” You breathe.

And that’s all it takes.

His breath leaves his lungs in a harsh rush as he moves forward like a leopard, lean and precise as he forces you onto your back.

Your blood rushes so quickly you swear you can hear it, your mouth goes dry as he stares you down. He’s suddenly less reverent, now he’s ravenous. A dangerous, carnivorous look dances in his dark eyes. His judgement is clouded just like yours, only it fuels him, while your state is much more terrified. Any spunk you had in you is thrown out the window as he leers over you.

You shrink into the mattress as he hovers above you on all fours, heavy eyelids and parted lips giving him a nearly drugged look.

“When you say everything-” He whispers, moving so he can settle on his knees between your open legs, “Do you mean this too?” He drops his hips as he questions you, pressing something very hard into your thigh, something very intimidating.

He watches your eyes go wide, a wicked grin spreading across his face when you gasp after he rolls his hips. His arms cage you, a strong hand placed on either side of your head, the position makes you feel so pathetic, so helpless, but it gives you an incredible rush.

“Don’t look so scared, it won’t hurt.” He dips down to press his hot, open mouth against your neck, tongue lapping at your pulse. A dark chuckle leaves his chest, “Not much, at least.”

Then he’s definitely less reverent, he’s no longer worshipful, he’s a wicked, unleashed best. His hands are selfish as they remove your clothes, his mouth is voracious against your skin. He has you panting and twitching in seconds, musing at you when your reactions are particularly strong.

It’s when he snakes down your body, wetting your skin with his tongue, settling between your breasts so he can suck harshly at the heated skin, that you finally feel something break within you. You arch into his touch, fisting your hands in his raven hair, whimpering so beautifully for him as he works you up.

He knows what he’s doing, he’s skilled, well equipped for pulling you apart. He’s already descended into some debauched state of being, and he’s pulling you down with him.

“Nobody’s ever tasted this sweet little cunt before, have they?” He asks against your skin, latching his mouth back to the spot he’s focused on marking, but looking up at you with inquiring eyes.

You try to swallow, shake your head, do something, but all you can do is lay there naked and gasping.

He laughs again, a wicked thing that leaves his chest like a wisp of wind. He slides a hand up your body, he flicks over your nipple with his thumb on the way up, pulling another whimper out of you.

His hand latches onto your jaw, then he shakes your head for you, doing what he knows you can’t.

“Oh baby…” He sighs, “You saved it for me?” He teases, hips grinding against you, the cloth of his pants creates a strange kind of friction against your clit, not unpleasant, but not pleasurable. Where the hell did the sweet, stuttering hero go? If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looks deviant… almost villainous.

“Tama- please.” You shiver, not sure what you’re asking for, but certain that you need more.

“Good girl, talk to me.” His hand slinks down your throat before he rises to his knees.

Your eyes lock on the tightness of his pants, trying not to panic at the sheer size of the imprint he’s making on them.

His shirt is pulled over his head, messing his hair in the most handsome way, and the breath is ripped from your lungs.

He’s stunning, broad and strong looking. He’s all porcelain skin over well trained muscle. Built perfectly for the work he does. Built perfectly for ripping apart poor little girls like you.

“I liked the look you got when I had my tentacles on you.” He sighs, letting a hand fall to your bare stomach so he can trace lazy circles against you.

“Did you like that? Do you want me to use my tentacles to play with you?” He questions.

His voice is low, it’s rich and warm and dripping with seduction. Nothing like the tentative, wobbly tone he usually has. It rips the ground out from underneath you, leaves you panting and blinking like a brain dead fool as you gawk up at his prowling form.

“Just a yes or no, if you can manage it.” He smiles sweetly up at you, splaying his hand across your quaking abdomen.

You breathe deeply, trying to steady yourself, trying to catch up with what he’s said.

“Y-yes.” You whisper, barely audible, hardly heard over your labored breathing.

His other hand mirrors the one he has on you, sliding around to hold you by the waist, a gentle cage meant to establish dominance.

“Yes… what?” He prompts, pressing his thumbs down.

You falter then, your tongue feels heavy, your mind slows and you’re suddenly void of all vocabulary. Were you really really about to let one of the most well known pros wreck your body with his quirk? Were you actually laid out for him like this? You know so little of him, your only information gathered from small talk, but something about that had you buzzing.

You could be whoever you want to be, you don’t have to be the floundering virgin. You don’t have to be so damn shell shocked.

“Yes, D-daddy.” You test, hoping to God or whoever is listening that you got the right name.

By the way his eyes flutter closed, the way his grip tightens, the way his body tenses, you sure as hell did.

“That’s it.” He sighs, “-and what about you?” He wonders, his hold going gentle again.

You? What about you?

Tamaki watches you carefully, barely containing the raging storm inside him, barely holding back the carnal urge to turn every limb to a pretty purple tentacle and stuff you until you’re crying for mercy.

Not yet, don’t fuck this up.

“Princess? Darling?” He asks, lowering himself back down to kiss down your stomach, looking up at you through his thick lashes.

“Whatever you want.” You answer. Your sweet, sacred submission makes him close his eyes and breathe in.

Hold it. Not. Yet.

“You’re like an angel.” He breathes, making you shiver under the weight of the high praise.

He notices your reaction immediately, smiling to himself.

“So that’s it.” He presses a long kiss just under your belly button, bringing attention to how naked you are, and how naked he is not.

Your thighs squeeze together and your arms come up to cover your chest, suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to keep it all out of view.

His hands are on your wrist and his body is crouched over yours again before you can blink. He pins your hands beside your head, looking down at you with some wild, unbridled kind of look in his eyes.

“You do not get to hide from me.” His shoulders flex as he pushes your wrists down into the mattress, earning a whine from you as the pressure starts to ache.

“You’re mine. That means I get all of you.” He bites the words off, but keeps his voice quiet.

You should be scared, crying even, but the only thing you feel is exhilaration, the ache between your legs and the fluttering of your heart as he overpowers you with just the look in his eyes and a few harsh words.

“Do you understand me?” He eases up on your wrists slightly, looking more stern, less unhinged.

“I-I do, I’m sorry.” You whimper out.

He considers you for a brief second, eyes growing softer as he watches the way your pretty lip trembles.

“It’s ok.” He releases your wrists and speaks gently, “You’re ok.”

The reassurances makes you dizzy, especially in contrast with how rough he just was.

"Hold still for me, angel." Then he’s back to mouthing at your skin.

His teeth meet your collarbone and your hands reach for his messy hair.

“There?” He asks against you, a smile in his voice as he lets his teeth gather your skin again. The spot he finds makes you dizzy, you feel the heat spread across your cheeks and the tips of your ears.

Tamaki is still stuck in his own chains, fighting against them as he focuses on the way you twitch for him, the way your body rolls when he bites harder.

So she likes it.

Your body heats up, it's all so overwhelming. It's so different from anything you've ever felt, and you can't believe it's with him.

Then his kisses get more sloppy, his teeth are sharper against you. He leaves you shining with his spit, painted in blooming purple and red bruises as he begins his journey down your body.

"Da-addy." You sniffle when he bites into the underside of your breast.

It doesn't feel loving, it doesn't feel passionate, it just feels rough.

"Hush." He mumbles against you, "If you can't take this I might as well stop now." He looks up at you, challenging you.

"I can t-take it, I can." You breathe, nodding, looking at him with begging eyes, "Please, don't stop."

He honest to god growls against you. You couldn't possibly know what you do to him, how sweet your willingness sounds, how beautiful you look laid out for him. He knows he should take his time, and he resents that fact. He almost resents you for being so sweet and needy. With all the things he wants to do to you, he almost, almost, wishes you had at least some experience. This makes you his completely, though, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything.

His hot mouth moves lower and lower until he's tonguing at your hip bone, pulling the skin into his mouth so he can work his teeth against it. He will mark you wherever he can, as long as you'll let him.

Your hips roll up against him, making him smirk at how needy you're acting.

"Ask for it." He whispers, hungry hands slide up the outsides of your thighs, "Ask for what you want."

His fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, sending the breath from your lungs as he glares up at you. He lets his wet tongue loll out to give a teasing flick against the crux of your thigh.

You take a deep breath in and cling to the sheets for dear life, "Please, use your mouth on me."

He smiles so sweetly then, looking mildly amused.

"Here?" He goes back to that same spot, sucking and teasing, looking all too pleased with himself.

"Be specific, angel, tell me where you need me."

Tamaki knows for a fact that he didn't have to spend his time making you ask for things, he knows what you want, he knows how to give them to you. He could take whatever he needs, probably without much a fight from you, but what fun would that be? He would miss the pretty blush creeping across your skin, and the sweet little tears in your big eyes. No, he wouldn't be missing this, not for the world.

"I wanna feel your tongue, please, use your mouth on m-my cunt." You shiver, timid and uncertain about your phrasing.

It seems to do the trick though, because Tamaki's eyes nearly roll to the back of his head.

He answers with a low moan before grabbing you by the insides of your thighs so he can spread you open. Once the air of the room hits you, you're made painfully aware of just how soaked you are.

It makes Tamaki look like a wild man, all blown out pupils blushing cheeks.

Almost in slow motion, he presses his tongue into the spot right above your clit, making you whine and buck against his mouth.

"Needy little thing." He says, giving your thighs a gentle squeeze, "But I suppose I have teased enough."

Then he's on you, and the second his tongue meets your weak spot you know you're ruined. You know that not one person will ever hold a candle to Tamaki Amajiki.

He pulls away for only a second, just to whisper praises up to you, "Your cunt tastes like everything I've ever needed."

You huff at him in disbelief, not knowing what to say or do, heart soaring because of his confession.

Then he dives back in, and he gets sloppy with it, setting a pace that feels so good it aches. The heat spreads through every limb, and settles somewhere deep in your chest. Everything tingles and burns, and breathing seems nearly impossible.

Internally, Tamaki is raging. He’s so close to losing it, he feels himself slipping, your taste spreads across his tongue is the culmination of months of watching and waiting and wanting. He wants to drown in you, he wants to rip you to shreds. No more watching you through windows, no more fucking his fist while he wishes with everything he has that it was your precious little pussy. He has you now, spread open and vulnerable. He knows he could shove your face into the pillows and let loose on you, stuff every hole with an invasive tentacle, the thought makes him even more feral, it makes him work even harder as he eats you.

Every roll of his tongue against your clit makes you throb and buck, which makes him growl and push you down against the mattress. He's loud and messy, slurping and moaning, letting it drip down his chin and his throat, never once letting up.

Your head is thrown back against the pillows, eyes drilled shut. You know damn well if you saw him, you wouldn't last another second. He builds you up until your thighs are trembling and you're a whiny little mess.

Perfect.

Suddenly, the texture of his tongue changes drastically. It's much more slippery, and much thicker. Your head shoots up, and you nearly sob at what you see. Tamaki, with his eyes wild and his jaw dropped, is letting a wicked looking tentacle hang from his mouth.

His quirk.

He smirks up at you as the tip of it writhes against your clit, flicking and circling as he watches the tears start to fall from your face. You can't possibly keep up, you didn't know anything could ever feel this good.

You watch the suction cups ripple as he moves the muscle against you, then he does the unthinkable. He latches one of them onto your clit. Your eyes cross and you bring a fist to your mouth so you can bite on it and muffle your screams.

He hates that.

With another rumbling growl, he lets his hands turn to tentacles as well. You watch helplessly as he snakes them up your arms, ripping your hand away from your mouth so he can pin both limbs to the bed. The tentacles are strong, surprisingly warm, and so damn slippery.

It's hard to tell if you're close to the edge, it's felt that way the whole time, everything feels so hot and tight and good.

He smiles as you cry out and thrash against the bed, full of admiration for the usefulness of his own quirk.

“Too much! D-daddy, it’s too much.” You sniffle out as you feel a stinging feeling in your cunt, it’s not necessarily an unpleasant sting, but it’s too much.

He ignores your objection, choosing to simply suck harder at your overstimulated sweet spot. He revels in your pitifully low threshold, planning to do so much worse to your poor, inexperienced body.

The ache in your cunt continues to push the tears from your eyes, and eventually, drool from your mouth. The suction cup works dutifully against your clit, making you feel so overwhelmed you don't know if you can cum.

Then you feel the prodding at your entrance.

Then you really scream.

Holding that one little suction cup to your clit, he snakes the tip of his tentacle into your dribbling hole. He furrows his dark brows and moans against you when he feels how tight you are, desperate to feel the velvety walls around his cock.

"Holy fucking shit." You gasp.

He watches the dramatic rise and fall of your quaking chest, your baffled eyes trying to keep track of everything happening to your body, and he swears he falls even more in love.

You're so willing, so compliant, so at his mercy.

He crooks the tip of the tentacle towards himself just a bit, and it's like you've been struck by lightning. You cum hard, harder than you ever have. You're a mess of twitching limbs, shivering as your cunt clenches so hard your feel it in your fucking chest. You sob into the air, broken and tearful as he works you through it.

You feel the hold on your arms tighten as your body arches away from the mattress. As you feel every inch of you ignite, you know that you're ruined for everyone else.

As soon as you lower yourself so you're flat to the mattress, the tentacles around your arms slip away and turn back into his hands.

The one between your legs still plays with you a little bit, prodding at your clit, lapping up your mess. Tamaki laughs as you jump and twitch, whimpering and gasping as he milks your body for every after shock you can give him.

You watch him pull the tentacle back into his mouth, flicking it over his lips to gather your release before disappearing into his mouth. You watch his eyes flutter shut, you watch him shiver and you hear the sweetest little moan in the back of his throat.

“You’re pretty when you cry.” He mumbles, looking up at you with the most tender look in his eyes. It’s a harsh contrast with all the cum dripping down his chin.

“You move a lot, too. It’s fun.” He states, almost like some kind of twisted review, “I don’t mind holding you down like that.”

The drop in the tone of his voice makes a chill creep up your spine.

“In fact…” He lifts himself up so he can start to crawl up your body, “I really, really enjoyed it.”

You gasp for words, wind stolen from your lungs as he presses his messy mouth against your sternum.

“Something tells me you did too.” He whispers.

Your voice is finally found, somewhere deep in your chest, hidden and nearly forgotten, “What makes you say that?” You ask timidly.

He pulls his head up to look down at you with a confident smirk, “The mess you made.”

To prove his point, he swipes two fingers through your folds, gathering your creamy release before holding it up to the light. He looks so damn proud, like he’s showing off.

“Messy girl.” He smiles, as you watch him bring his coated fingers to his lips, sucking the sin off with a greedy pop from his lips.

“Oh, how selfish of me.” He sighs before grabbing you by the chin, “I should share.”

He pulls your mouth open then slowly leans over you so he can push the mess back through his lips. You oblige like a robot, stunned by the debauchery, letting him guide you through this act. He lets it fall from his lips slowly, creating a long string from his mouth to yours. The second it hits your tongue, something clicks for you. Something dark and smokey settles in your gut, something all consuming and blinding. It rids you of boundaries and reservations, it fills you with nothing but the man in front of you.

He watches you with a pointed gaze, shutting your jaw for you so you can swallow what he gave you.

“What do you say?” He asks.

You feel the burn in your chest, the embers in your skin, “More, please.”

“Fucking hell," The words tumble out as a breath mostly, "You want more?" He questions, grabbing you by the wrist so he can place your palm just above the waist of his pants.

You nod up at him, vision blurred by the heat of his skin against your palm.

"Then take it." He leans down to say it, biting off the words.

A challenge.

You can't possibly disappoint him, you can't possibly leave him wanting. Take it? How are you supposed to take it?

In a wild moment of confidence, mostly your body moving without the permission of your mind, you wrap your legs around his lean hips so you can flip him onto his back.

Your eyes lock the second you feel him pressing against you, hard and thick, and terribly intimidating in length.

He watches you for a moment, then hastily grabs you by the back of the neck so he can pull you down for another kiss. It's hot and needy, full of wicked want and unabashed selfishness. It tickles your ribs, creeps up your neck, and secures itself greedily around all of your common sense.

Tamaki had no intentions of letting you take anything, it's a game to him. He'll let you have your moment, let you feel like you have the reigns, but he'll take it right back. His has you under control, he vows that he always will.

Your chest flutters with a clawing, aching feeling.

More more more.

"Fuck me." It's a prayer, whimpered against his delicate lips, "Please, fuck me." You dig your hands into his hair, cherishing the sweet noises they leave him as you beg.

Under control.

"Tell me you need it." He sighs, answering your prayer by sending his hands down to work urgently at his belt.

"Tell me you need me."

You bring your face back from his just enough to look into his dark eyes, and you see tears welling in them.

He needs to feel needed.

"Please, I need it, I need you, Suneater."

Everything freezes for a brief second, the air thickens and his eyes darken as you wait with a held breath for his next move.

Then, everything is flying around you. You feel the bite of fingertips against your waist, your stomach hits the mattress, possibly the sound of his pants being taken off. Your senses are dulled by the raging swirl of emotions beating inside you as your hips are lifted up, and a hand shoves your face into the pillow.

"Who's your hero?" His voice is rough, his hand gathers your hair and cranks your head to the side, "Who is your fucking hero?" He's barking the words out now, harsh and demanding.

And holy hell does it get you going.

"You are! You're my hero, Suneater." You cry out, craning your neck to look at him.

You expected furrowed brows, a straight mouth and furious eyes. What you're met with is nothing of the sort. A soft pink blush across his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears, tears wetting his cheek, and a quivering lip.

With your eyes on him, he makes a show of sliding his hand down his front so he can grab at his length. He lets it fall against your ass, heavy and painfully hard.

"Don't forget that." He says simply, sliding his thick head down through your slicked lips.

The contact makes you both shudder deep in your souls.

"Daddy, please." Your voice is pitiful as you fist the sheets and press back against him.

"So slutty." He muses, releasing your hair so he can run his nails down your back, "Poor thing, never been fucked, needs it so bad, doesn't she?"

You nod fervently and fuss as he presses his head against your tight hole. You tense and shiver, not at all prepared for what's to come.

"I need it, I need you, please please please." You have one thought now, no reservations, you need him.

"I'm gonna ruin this little cunt." He says, a warning tone in his voice.

The hand that was tracing your spine suddenly feels very cold and wet.

His damn quirk.

He takes his time, letting the thick tentacle slither around your waist. It wraps around you twice, teasing you with the pops of the suction cups, leaving pretty purple circles all over your abdomen.

He lifts you easily, pulling you up so your back is pressed against his chest.

"Ruin it, please, it's yours, I'm yours." You sniffle, looking down at your trapped position.

With a low, menacing growl, he sinks his teeth into your neck, and his cock into your heat.

Tamaki holds his breath, willing himself not to fill you up right this second. You're too damn tight, so warm and velvety. You're so perfect, and so completely his.

You sob into the air, hands reaching out to hold the headboard as you feel like you're being ripped apart.

"Oh don't scream, Angel, people might think something's wrong." His voice is shaking now, and the hold on your waist tightens.

You focus on relaxing, letting your walls lose their tension, but it's all fruitless. He's too big, he fills you too well, and all you can do is take it.

"Here, let me give that mouth something to do."

His other hand comes around to hold your throat, turning each finger into a tentacle again. It leaves you reeling and gasping as he presses further into you, wrapping what would be his middle finger around your throat. He wraps it around twice, like he did with your waist. The appendage comes up to rest its tip on your bottom lip.

The sensation makes you dizzy, especially when it finally snakes into your panting mouth. It doesn't really taste like anything, it just feels wet and slick, the texture of the suction cups is the strangest thing about it. He rocks his hips so gently, squeezing you tighter everywhere he's holding you.

You don't feel like a moth drawn to a flame, you feel like a moth caught in a spider's web. All tangled up, not willing to fight to escape, not even wanting to.

"You're so damn tight." He stutters out, pressing his hips flush against your own.

You cry out and gag against the tentacle stuffing your mouth, digging your nails into the headboard as he chuckles behind you.

"You're such a pretty little mess for me. Your cunt's already dripping."

You don't doubt it, it has to be with how badly your core aches around him as he stretches you.

Your thighs start to tremble as you wait for him to move, sniffling as the tears fall from your eyes and the drool spills from your lips.

A pretty little mess indeed.

Slowly, he drags his hips back with a hiss before pushing back in. He takes his time with it, building an agonizing pace that offers you no release. There's only the pressure, only your clit screaming for attention, only the maddening tease of his head against your sweet spot with every torturous push in.

"Fuck angel, I gotta break this pussy in, don't I?" His words pull another pitiful moan from you, nodding and whining is all you're capable of.

His picks up speed just enough to make you tense even more, still painful, still mind numbing.

"You look so fucking pretty on the end of my cock."

His words pour over you like hot wax, heating you up, making you drip. The heat seeps deep into your skin, making you squirm and clench.

He speeds his thrusting up slightly, then more, and more, and more, until you’re shrieking and choking against the tentacle stuffing your mouth. Your hands fly up to claw at it, wanting to tell him how it feels, wanting to thank him for the way he’s fucking you.

It’s still painful, each thrust splits you open with a sting, but it’s so damn good. The sharp stretching is absolutely spectacular, and it sends your brain into somewhere dark and smokey, it leaves you with a wide open feeling in your chest. It leaves you wanting more.

“What’s the matter, sweet thing?” He taunts, “Tell me about it, then, how’s Daddy make you feel?” He turns each tentacle back into a finger slowly, pulling out of your mouth, leaving you a gasping mess.

Through spit and tears, you praise him, words spewing out between moans as your body jolts from each punishing snap of his hips.

“So fucking good! You make me feel so good!” You cry, clinging to his forearm as he brings you closer to his chest.

The tentacle around your waist starts to slither down your stomach, “This isn’t even half of what I’m capable of doing to you,” The tip of it gives the hood of your clit a teasing flick, “-and you’re already such a slut for me.” His chuckle is dark and full as the tip of his skilled tentacle zeros in on your sweet spot, rubbing and wriggling against it until you’re screaming.

“Say it. Say you’re my little slut.” His words are a harsh demand against your ear, leaving no room for disobedience.

“I- f-fuck- I can’t! I ca-an’t!” You sob, not able to catch your breath between thrusts.

Tamaki eats that right up, swelling with pride as he fucks you speechless, delirious with the fact that he finally has your cunt gripping his cock.

Before he can bark another order at you, you finally pull the words out of your closing throat, "I'm your slut," You gasp as drool rolls down your chin, "I'm your little slut."

He throws his head back and throws everything he has into every thrust, his moans are obscene, high pitched and broken as he feels how hard you squeeze him when he speeds up the tip of his tentacle against your clit.

"Give it to me, I feel that greedy cunt tryin' to milk me, give me that fuckin cum." He huffs against your ear. Your entire body seizes up, shaking violently as ribbons of pleasure shoot through you. You pulse around Tamaki almost violently, earning some very rough sounding moans from him as he works you through it.

Your orgasm lasts for what feels like an eternity, you shiver with every throb of your walls. It possesses that same almost painful pleasure, and it's everything you've ever wanted. At some point, the tentacle around your waist turns to a hand, still absentmindedly rubbing you as you come down.

He lets your torso fall forward, leaving you bent over and exposed for him. His hands smooth over your ass, and you realize he's still so fucking hard.

"Can you take more, angel?"

You nod against the tear soaked pillow you've pressed your face into, not sure that you even can, but willing to try.

"Good," He bends down to press kisses into your spine as he pulls out, "'Cause you're going to."

He pulls out, almost full of regret, wanting to live the rest of his life buried inside you.

Now he can have some fun, mind cleared slightly by finally feeling you come undone around him. He's still hazy, still slightly frenzied, but less ravenous, less of a starved man waiting for his meal, more of a well fed man waiting for desert.

His hands hold your waist gently so he can guide you onto your back. You oblige, more than willing to let him have his way.

You finally get a good look at him, and you're astounded by just how pretty his dick looks. All pale and pink, swollen and shiny, it makes you dizzy with admiration.

"You're terribly beautiful." He whispers, cradling your waist so he can worship your stomach with soft kisses, "I don't believe you're even real."

Sweetness oozes through your tingling limbs, pouring over you like warm honey. His tender mouth brings you back down, soothes you into a state of catharsis. Your body settles, but your heart picks back up when his lips are on your hips.

Your eyes meet his, and you share the sentiment that he just might not be real. He pears up at you through a mess of indigo hair, eyes full of what you can only describe as devotion.

He explores your body with his hands, dipping his thumbs into every crook he can, palming handfuls of your plush thighs. He seems to have a soft spot for your hips though, pulling at your love handles, letting his breath speed up each time until he's panting against you.

With every pull of his hands, you bend for him, push into him, work with him. You both find a rhythm, falling into an easy dance of grabbing and needing.

"I want to keep you." He breathes, placing a hand on either side of your waist so he can lift himself over you, "I want to have you."

He gathers your legs while he speaks, hooking his hands under your knees so he can fold you up.

"You have me." You whisper, reaching out to lay your fingers on the sides of his ribs.

You watch his skin twitch under your touch, you watch his eyebrows sag into an almost heartbroken look.

He looks down between your bodies, quivering when he sees his heavy cock resting against your stomach. He feels so incredibly proud of you in that moment, for taking him so well, and asking for more.

She's mine. She said I have her.

The concept brings another wave of primal desire crashing down on his self control.

His fingers dig into your skin, biting at the flesh, spreading you open for him as he puts his weight on your legs.

You clench in anticipation, teased by the pressure of his hot length resting against you.

"I can take it." You say quietly, sliding your hands up his lean body so you can lace them into his inky hair.

He melts into your touch, stunned by your gorgeous submission.

"Fuck, angel." His words are shattered as they fall from his lips.

You reach down between your bodies and wrap your hand around his weeping tip. He trembles and hiccups as you push him down so he's lined up with where you need him.

"Please, I want all of it." m.

“Careful.” He pants, looking down at you with a warning in his eyes.

It doesn’t create hesitation in you though, only curiosity.

“We’re being careful now?” You tease, sliding him up and down your slit.

“You little devil.” He hisses, grabbing your wrist harshly, “You think you’re cute, don’t you?”

You freeze and blink up at him, once again shocked by his quick change in temperament.

“You wanna act like a tease now?” He questions, bringing your hand up so he can press it into the mattress with his.

“Did you find yourself a cute little attitude?” His voice drips with venom, it bites at your insides and melts your skin.

“That’s ok, angel.” He lets your hand go so he can press on the backs of your thighs again, successfully folding you completely in half, “I’ll fuck it out of you.”

Before you can breathe, blink, or respond, he’s splitting you open with a brutal pace. He laughs deep in his chest when you cry out, he mocks you when your hands fly to his abs in an attempt to slow his assault. A wicked smile spreads across his pretty face when tears stain your flushed cheeks once again.

“Cryin’ again so soon? Is it too much, baby? You need Daddy to slow down?” He’s testing you, only thrusting harder as he taunts you for your sobbing and moaning.

“No!” You gasp between tears, “Don’t stop, please, fuck me like that.”

“That’s my girl.”

His thrusts are ruthless, sharp, unforgiving. He rocks your body and the bed with each plunge in, headboard crashing against the wall. Each drive into you is enchanting, it teaches you something new, opens new doors, shows you a new, brilliant world of depravity. The way the pleasure shoots all the way up your spine with every drag of his cock, it’s something you want to feel until you die, you’d even be happy if this is the way you die.

You watch him disappear inside of you over and over, pulling out just as quick, covered in slick and sin. Tamaki is in his own feral world, watching your lovely face crumble and pout as he fills you. His hands are angry against the back of your thighs, nails digging in hard enough to bring little pearls of scarlet to the surface.

When you start to whine from the sting, he flashes you a lazy smile before stuffing his fingers into your mouth. He presses the blood covered fingertips into your tongue just enough to make drool spill from the sides of your mouth.

“Hush, you’ll learn to love it.”

His smile turns wolfish when he watches your eyes roll back. It’s all so black-hearted, it’s everything you’ve kept yourself from, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

You both throb and cry then, your bodies smack as they meet, obscene and wet as you chase your undoing. Tamaki knows he’s not going to last much longer, and he curses himself for it. He doesn’t want to stop, especially when you wince so sweetly when his thrusts are a little too deep. He wants to watch you suck his fingers forever, crying against his palm as he turns you into his perfect little slut.

“You’re gonna give me one more, aren’t you, angel? You owe me that, I saved your life after all.” He slides his fingers from your mouth, dragging your spit down your chin before grabbing you by the throat, “Answer if you can, I know it must be hard to speak when you’re getting fucked this good.”

His words drown you in lust, your hands claw at his back, painting angry red lines down the pretty porcelain canvas, “Take it! Fuck- Take it, Suneater, take it all.”

It’s not a demand, it’s a plea, it’s a craving formed deep within your freshly corrupted heart.

Your begging pulls desperate, whiny sounds from him. With his eyes screwed shut he lets the hand on your thigh manifest the tentacles in place of his fingers. He throws all of his energy into that, trying to stall the twitching of his dick as your hot insides massage him with their relentless pulsing.

“Are you sure about that?” He tests, letting the tentacles snake around your thigh before slithering down to where your bodies meet.

Immediately, one starts flicking at your clit, making your back go rigid as he grins down at his good work.

You wail his name, nails biting at his skin even more but he pays no mind. He has a mission, he’s going to take all of it.

He focuses on making his tentacles grow, two long enough to reach up your body and tug at your nipples, and one other snaking down through the mess you’re making to prod at your asshole. Your eyes widen with shock as your body ignites, it’s too much, it’s all too much. Every sensation is heightened, every poke and flick and thrust sends shards of pleasure flying through you, piercing you from every direction.

You let yourself cry completely then, throwing your head against Tamaki’s collar bone before sobbing into his chest. You know you’re cumming, you can feel it somewhere amongst all the other stimulation, but it’s nearly drowned out, and Tamaki is still fucking you just as hard as he was when this all started.

“More, you have more for me, I fucking know it.” He huffs as he finally pushes into your ass with the tentacle.

The ones on your nipples latch on with their suction cups as he fills you more and more.

“Give it to me, angel, give it all to your hero.”

That’s the final push, the last thing you need to send you into the most frenzied orgasm you’ve ever experienced. Your vision goes white as your body convulses, ripped apart by the flames of euphoria that turn everything you’ve ever known to ash. Somewhere in the distance you hear Tamaki praising you, telling you how tight you feel, how beautiful you look, how good you are for him.

It’s lost in the fray, though, all blurring together as you shake violently around him. The only thing that brings you back slightly, is the break in his voice when he sobs, “I’m gonna stuff that little cunt with my cum, I’m gonna make you mine.”

Your hand is at the back of his neck instantly, pulling him down for a messy, aimless kiss. His moans spill into your mouth as his hips falter, turning to slow, stuttering thrusts as he starts to pump his release deep into you.

“I’m yours - I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours.” You chant it against his lips as his tears fall to your cheeks, mixing with your own as you both shatter for each other.

Coming back down isn't easy at all. It's slow and needy, your hands still pulling at whatever skin they can grab, hips rolling against each other, trying with everything you both have to prolong that rapturous feeling.

Frantically, painfully, he pulls himself out of you. He slides his hot mouth down your body, nipping and sucking as he descends to your messy cunt. He spreads your legs wide so he can bury his face between them. He teases your clit briefly, but moves quickly to press his open mouth against your hole.

Your skin boils as you watch the nasty show. His eyes cross sinfully and flutter shut as he tongue at your well used pussy. When he pulls back, his chin is covered in some wretched mixture of your combined releases. He moves back up your body like an animal stalking its prey.

He grabs your jaw and you open so willingly. His mouth is on yours instantly, pushing the warm liquid onto your tongue with his own. It’s a spunky, intense flavor, almost overwhelming as he spreads it around your mouth. It creates a dark, blurry feeling in your chest, though. It makes you feel alive, it makes you want more.

He pulls back slowly, a thick string of saliva and sin connecting your lips as he pants down at you.

“You’re such a good little girl.”

His lips are everywhere, pressing against your cheekbones, your nose, your forehead. His hands return to normal so he can cradle your face. You both lay there, still joined, catching your breath.

"Angel?"

The tenderness in his voice pulls you back down to earth, and when you open your eyes, you find yourself lost in his. It’s a harsh but marvelous contrast with the sharp edges of his previous behavior.

"Does anything h-hurt?" He asks timidly.

The stutter is back, the anxious look in his eyes, the restlessness in his hands.

You reach out to hold his face like he's holding yours, "Tamaki, no, nothing hurts. You made me feel so good."

You don't ever want to be a source of hesitation for him again. You want to make it better. He's brilliant, he's brave, he saved your damn life. He doesn't need to be so scared around you.

"You're my hero, Suneater." You pull him down for a soft, intimate kiss.

He breathes out against you, more of his tears wet your cheeks but you don't mind.

He's allowed to feel this, he earned this.

When the kiss breaks he searches your face, waiting for you to laugh at him, to push him off, to change your mind.

You don't, though.

You stay there with him, loving him and full of him.

"And you're mine."

You both settle there, kissing skin that hasn't been kissed before, finding ways to make each other fall even more.

Tamaki tells himself he did the right thing. You don't ever have to know why Dabi chose your house to break into. You don't ever need to be told that he spent endless nights watching you from the window, because he has you know.

It would be wrong of him to tell you, you wouldn't understand it. It would break your heart and ruin everything. Then, it would get messy. You might try to run away, and that would mean he'd have to keep you in different ways.

He shakes the thoughts from his head. He can keep you like this, laid out and blushing for him, so soft and beautiful.

You belong to him now, and that's all that there is.

"Can I take care of you?” He asks softly, playing with the necklace he gave you as he gives you a shy glance.

“You just did.” You let yourself laugh a little as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“No, not like that.” He smiles softly, dipping down to kiss your neck so softly you almost can’t feel it, “Like this.”

He presses his lips against a mark you didn’t know he made, lingering for a moment as his eyes flutter shut.

“These say that you’re mine.” His thumb traces over one of the circular bruises on your ribs, “They say you have someone protecting you.”

The prospect makes your heart soar. He’s right, belonging to him means you’ll always be safe, you’ll always have somebody willing to fight for you, maybe even somebody willing to stay with you.

“This says that you belong to me.” He loops a finger around the delicate pearl on your necklace, pulling gently, not enough to make you go anywhere, but enough to make you feel the metal tug against the back of your neck.

‘You do belong to me, don’t you.” He asks, a wild, fearful look in his eyes.

You do, you just told him so, you just cried to him and vowed that you were his just moments ago.

“I do, I belong to you, I swear.” You reassure him, pulling a deep sigh from his chest.

You don’t understand the way he aches for you, the way he’s addicted to you. He was already hooked, from just glances and flighty touches. Now, having felt your soft skin, the tuck of your waist, having seen you cry and heard you call his name, he’s willing to admit his obsession.

He does take care of you, he does it beautifully. He carries you to the bathroom where he sets you on the edge of the tub. He fills it with warm, soapy water before picking you up bridal style so he can settle into the water with you in his lap.

Neither of you bother to turn a light on, content with the glow of the moon shining through the skylight. Tamaki paints your shoulders with soft kisses as he rubs soothing circles into your back. He takes his sweet time, wiping away the sweat and the tears, mindful of the tender spots on the back of your thighs.

“Beautiful, you’re so beautiful.” He sighs, “An angel, nothing less.”

You melt into him, lost in his praise, blinded by his devotion as well as your own.

Tamaki is just as lost, if not more, only becoming more possessive with every gentle touch, with every whispered adoration.

This is how it’s meant to be, and you don’t ever need to know how it all fell into place. He did the right thing, after all. This isn’t a problem, he’s in love. He’s in love and now he has you.

He intends on keeping it that way.

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neonacity · 3 years

Text

HYACINTHE | Chapter 1: Jaemin x Reader

Summary:

Na Jaemin is far from being your typical 20 year old. Instead of slaving through college, he wastes away his hours cracking safes. Weekends that should be spent partying with friends consist of illegal races on good days and small scale bombings on bad ones.

Na Jaemin is far from being average, unless you consider being a member of Seoul's top organized crime family normal.

There is no such thing as a sense of normality and peace in his trainwreck of a life, so when he met a barista who was brave enough to call out his dangerous taste in coffee, he was like a moth to the flame. Everything about her is normal, which means she is forbidden to him, in all sense of the word.

So why, then, does he always find himself in the front steps of her shop, breaking all his personal rules even if he wishes he could stay away?

A/N + Disclaimer: this is a side story to Black Daisies, my main mafia fic feat. 0T23. While the plot is based on the main story, this can also be read as a standalone fic. As usual, this is purely a work of fiction and in no way am I implying any member of NCT to behave the way I write them here. tw: crimes, heists, potential death, mentions of drugs and other illegal activities.

PAIRING: Jaemin x Reader

BLACK DAISIES MASTERLIST

___________________________________________________________

I've known him for almost a year and a half when it happened.

The small bell of the cafe's back door dinged so hard, I thought it would get ripped off from the wall. I looked up, eyes wide with panic and hands still wrapped around the cold corners of a metal tray when a head of jet black hair appeared on the entrance. It took me half a second to register what I was seeing before I found myself flying to his side in a heartbeat.

"Jaemin! Oh my god, what the hell is going on!"

My first thought was that he was injured. He was doubled over and I quickly hunched to his level so that I could peer at his face. He looked paler than usual, beads of sweat stuck on his forehead, eyes glazed with a slight look of panic as he tried to keep himself from falling over. I threw out my hands to hold him by the shoulders and that's when my gaze caught it; the small black package that he quickly tried to hide inside his bomber jacket before I could even fully see what it is. I didn't give it much attention back then—I was far too focused in trying to see if he was hurt anywhere to worry about anything else. When his gaze finally focused on me, I thought I saw guilt there.

"I need your help. Sorry, I don't know where else to go."

My brows furrowed together.

"What the hell is going on—"

He reached out for one of my hands helping him up and squeezed it tight.

"Please don't ask me questions. Just—can you trust me?"

"I don't understand—" my voice started to rise. Is he hurt? Bleeding? In pain?

"Please."

My lips parted then pursed again.

"Okay."

Jaemin tugged me closer to him and threw a panicked look outside. He then pulled me farther into the now closed cafe, back into the storage room, the location of which he shouldn't even know in the first place.

"Let me hide here for a bit. Just a bit."

That encounter was my second mistake since meeting Na Jaemin.

I should have asked questions.

Lots of them.

___________________________________________________________

The first mistake happened about a year and half ago.

"Welcome to Brick and Beans, what would you like to have today?"

I plastered on my practiced smile and looked at the stranger in front of me without actually looking at him. Working in the service industry sure does things to your head once you get used to it. Despite having to deal with people all the time, you also get to develop a kind of numbness and detachment to human interaction. A face just becomes a face, a customer simply becomes just another passing responsibility. I tried to blink a few times to make myself seem more interested on the boy standing in front of my counter, patiently waiting for him to give me his order so we can go ahead and get on with both our business.

"Uh… I'll have an iced americano. No water. Eight shots of espresso."

My lips parted and curled on the sides to give him my service smile. My hand automatically reached out for the plastic cups stacked on my side while my other whipped out the marker clipped on the pocket of my apron to scribble his order.

"That's one iced americano, no water, eight—"

I stopped and blinked once. Twice. My gaze shot up at the customer in front of me again and really looked at him for the first time.

"I'm sorry, that's eight shots of espresso?"

He nodded, seemingly unbothered by my question.

"No water?"

A slight shake of the head.

"...eight shots. Of espresso."

"Eight shots, yes."

For a moment we both just stared at each other. He was looking at me patiently, probably only slightly weirded out by my question while I gave him a look that's a mix of worry and disbelief. Working as a barista has exposed me to my own fair share of weird coffee requests, but this is by far the one that takes the cake.

I softly cleared my throat and turned my attention back to the words I was scribbling on the cup. As strange as it is, I really am not in the position to judge a customer.

"That'll be 4.50 dollars. Is that for here?"

"Make it to go."

"Got it. I'll get you your order soon…"

"Jaem."

I smiled and scribbled his name on the cup.

Foot traffic was pretty slow on the cafe so I was able to quickly finish the order on autopilot. As I worked on mixing, I found myself humming softly to myself, my tune shifting into short whistles every time I would dunk an espresso shot down into that cup. I didn't even realize that the customer didn't bother taking a seat on one of the empty tables, opting to lean on the wall by the side instead, hands shoved in the pockets of his jogs as his eyes followed me.

"One iced americano for Jaem," I called out and pushed the packed drink into his hand. He handed me his card and I quickly worked on swiping it.

"You sure like your coffee explosive, huh?" I shot him a question for the sake of making small talk as I punched some buttons on my terminal.

"It's the eight shots, isn't it?"

I answered by giving him a shrug and a smile.

"It's the first time I ever did one like it. I can only imagine how it tastes like."

His lips slightly quirked into a smile. A...really cute smile if I might add.

"Is there anything wrong?"

"It's really good."

"Sure, Jaem. I'm not here to judge," I gave him a wink before handing back his card and receipt. "Well, thank you for dropping by. We hope to see you here again." He took both wordlessly and slipped them on his wallet.

I was waiting for him to walk off with his drink with the practiced polite smile plastered on my face again. He turned, coffee in hand, took about five steps, before turning to me again. I blinked in mild confusion as he placed his cup back on my counter.

"Actually… I'll have it here."

___________________________________________________________

"I'm not going to try your death coffee, Jaemin."

I didn't look up from the page I was reading but I could feel it, that deadly pout and puppy eyes combo drilling onto the side of my head. I flipped a page of my textbook over and I heard a sigh come from the boy beside me.

"I bought it for you. You said you need to finish a paper tonight."

"I do. That doesn't require me to be awake for the next week and a half," I answered back with a quirk of my lips as I finally looked up to meet his gaze. We were seated at one of the far tables of the cafe for my 15 minute break, away from the handful of customers scattered on the smattering of tables and high chairs. This has become quite a routine already… but how it started, I can't really explain.

Ever since that first order, Jaemin had made it his routine to drop by almost regularly. At first the banter started similar to how a regular customer and his favorite barista would have, but since he would always come and visit during slow hours, we would always have more time for longer conversations. Casual talk turned into light-hearted jokes, and finally into a kind of banter that comes with familiarity with each other. Slowly, I came to know the complexities of Na Jaemin, and boy, is he an enigma and a paradox rolled in one.

You never really know what to expect with him. There are days when he would be a bursting ball of energy—most of the time when he would order his drink from hell—but there are also moments when he would be quiet and reserved. I found it odd at first, but slowly accepted it since it didn't really hurt me in the first place. In fact, if I am going to be completely honest, I find this kind of personality set working for me. Imagine gaining two friends, except they're only in one body.

But that's not the only odd thing in our dynamic, too. If someone would ask me now to describe the kind of friendship I have with him, I wouldn't really know how to explain it. We joke together, laugh together, sometimes even tease the crap out of each other like we've known each other for years. We work well together, but at the same time… I know almost next to nothing about him. I don't know his address, who his other friends are, if he's going to school or not… hell, I don't even know what his number is. Outside of this cafe and his regular visits, I don't have anything to prove that he actually exists. He didn't share, and I also didn't ask.

Until today.

"Fine. I'm just going to drink this then."

I gasped before shooting him a squinted glare.

"You are going to burn a hole in your stomach, I swear to god—"

He simply shrugged and made a huge show of sipping the previously untouched tears of Lucifer.

I reached out to tug at the hood of his jacket in an attempt to call him out when I noticed it. His hair was initially masking it at first but now I could see it in full view: a purple bruise just on the side of his eye, almost to his temple.

"Oh my god, Jaemin. What happened?" I asked in a hurry as I tried to take a closer look at it. His expression changed in a heartbeat as he realized what I saw and he quickly leaned back and pulled the hoodie again over his head.

"That's—it's nothing."

"It looks so bad. How did you get that?"

He didn't answer. His eyes avoided my own and his hand gripped the plastic cup between us a little bit tighter.

"Did you get into a fight?" I pushed, gently this time.

His gaze moved to meet mine again for a few seconds. It's obvious he was contemplating what and how to answer.

"Yeah… I got into a bit of a tumble with some friends."

I frowned and crossed my arms over my chest as I leaned back on my seat. He threw me a look that silently asked what else I want from him.

"Look. You don't tell me shit but at least I know enough to be sure you are lying."

Jaemin looked away and started tapping his finger against the table.

"Why are you… why do you even want to know?"

I looked at him incredulously for a few seconds before leaning over.

"Because you're my friend and I want to make sure you are okay."

"I am okay."

"Your black eye says otherwise."

"Come on, don't push this. Can't we be friends without," he waved his hand between us. "This?"

"Jaemin, I don't even know who you are."

That made him stop. He stared at me for what felt like a full half minute and that's when I saw it for the first time. The dilemma in his eyes.

"It was because of work…"

The look of confusion I made must have been so intense that he quickly tried to jump over it.

"Work—why, what do you—"

"I'm sorry, but that's really all that I can tell you."

The sound of desperation in his tone wasn't lost on me. He looked so torn that I felt almost guilty for pressing.

"Fine… I won't ask again… As long as you are sure you're fine."

He peered at me once more as if assessing if he was finally off the hook.

"So...we're still friends?"

"Huh?"

"You and me… we're still friends?"

"Uh, yes…"

The look of relief on his face made me smile despite myself. He caught it and he made it a point to answer it with his best eye roll.

"Don't laugh at me. I don't know how to do friends."

"You're so cute~"

"Shut up."

And that was the exact day I decided—I'm never going to let Na Jaemin feel alone again.

Chapter 2

#na jaemin #jaemin #jaemin x reader #nct mafia #nct mafia au #mafia!jaemin #jaemin imagines #nct mafia fic

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babymilkawa · 3 years

Note

Sorry if this has already been rone but- could I get Bakugou, Todoroki, Denki and Izuku (separately) with a non-binary s/o who’s quirk is based off of a hyena? They have splotches of lighter skintone on them, freckles, laugh like a hyena, have sharp teeth and eyes like them? And a tail + ears? S/o is really chaotic, they live by the motto “I’ll try anything once,” and are overall very likable yet funky? Extra points if the boys see them in their hero outfit (which is something a little showey💕

-🧸

this is rly interesting anon!!

hyena quirk headcanons with:

bakugou katsuki, todoroki shoto, midoriya izuku, kaminari denki

gn!reader :)

bakugou katsuki

so at first he was definitely ticked off by how different u were

tbh u kinda reminded him of Mina with ur personality

But he thought ur appearance was very cool

later on in ur relationship, you’d always feel him tracing the shapes of the splotches on ur skin, or softly scratching the space behind ur ears

he thought u looked so badass with those teeth though

u were wild but you weren’t careless

your attacks were precise and carefully planned during practice and he definitely noticed

even before u guys started dating, bakugou had already known almost everything about you just by observing

he noticed how your ears perked up easily

whether it’s excitement or during training

he loved watching how your pupils would dilate and how completely focused you’d look when on the battle field but if you’re just chilling?

your whole body is relaxed

oh and his favorite, favorite part is that if he teases you about things and you deny it, your tail will give it away

like your first kiss for example

he pulled away and with the smuggest grin he said, “not bad, right?”

you had rolled your eyes and looked away, unaware that the tip of your tail was rapidly moving side to side

Usually he’ll point you out

but after that kiss, he was dazed himself, so caught up on the feeling of ur lips, he didn’t even bother telling u that ur tail was betraying its owner

and the first time he saw ur hero costume? oh my g a w d man had to look away

cos damn what r u looking so good for

literally has to slap himself when no one’s watching so he can focus on the task

todoroki shoto

so your personality is very different than his

knowing this, you sometimes try to catch him off guard by like fake pouncing on him

but he never flinches or anything

never does

he prolly already knows ur planning this on the other side of the room smh

todoroki generally doesn’t have a playful side to him but when he’s noticing that you’re being more jumpy than usual he’ll join you cuz why not

but ofc it’s awkward at first

he doesn’t know how to have fun fun

he doesn’t understand ur impulsive decisions which happens a lot

for example, if you’ve accidentally had one sip of caffeine at 6 in the evening, you’re wide awake at 2 am and preparing to rearrange the furniture in ur dorm

he’s right below you, luckily, so he’ll hear all the noise and show up to ur dorm like “why?”

and you’ve got the same answer each time, “why not?”

he figures that he won’t be able to go back to sleep anyways so he helps you move the furniture

one thing that’s great is that he can instantly read your emotion or energy level from your tail

like if you’ve still got to move your night stand, but your tail is starting to droop, he’ll just drag you to bed

he’s tired too and he loves your cuddles even if ur ears tickle his chin a little excuse to be little spoon? I think yes

midoriya Izuku

your energy s c a r e s him sometimes

being ur partner during training will literally keep him fully alert, for you

but you’re a great partner, you can just be a little reckless sometimes

he soon learns that even if you dive right into the action, you don’t act without thinking

before you guys are even together, he’s already got your whole quirk analysis down in his notebook

he’ll ask you questions about whether your tail gets in the way or whether your ears help during training and all

sometimes if you guys are just chilling, you’ll catch him staring at you

one day you ask him and he just goes like “no you just look really cool. I hope I'm not being weird though! I don’t mean to!”

“you’re my bf you can stare at me all you want Izuku”

one time, you were sitting down with your friends playing a card game and he was walking by behind you

but suddenly your tail just unconsciously swept the floor and he stepped on it, making you cry out in pain

he felt soooo bad

oml

doesn’t know how to help make it better so he just keeps on apologizing

if it was anybody else, you would’ve pounced on them but he looks genuinely guilty

so lets not make it worse :)

at first, seeing you smile would give him mixed emotions

like you’d go up to his face and flash your teeth and he’d start sweating buckets

you looked adorable don’t get me wrong

but you also looked a little...menacing

kinda like himiko

after a while he got used to it, knowing that you were a really kind person at heart

but since you can be a little wild and you like to have fun, you'll just graze his shoulder or neck with your skin to feel him shiver

you won’t put any pressure that’ll draw blood but it’s fun to hear him whimper 👀

the first time he saw ur hero costume, he start stuttering random nonsense lmAo

“y-y-y/n, wow, uhhh” sweat sweat sweat

yea he’s prolly not gonna get used to that hahHha

kaminari denki

this boy matches your energy

your always paired up with him during training cos you guys make the best team

like you’re there to keep him from making irrational decisions but you also ignite the fire and make sure the two of you make the most out of the time

even if you guys fail the mission sometime, you always come out laughing and developing new inside jokes

sometimes if you’re laughing, he’ll just turn to look at you with the biggest smile

and admires your tail wagging like a little pup and your teeth glistening under the ceiling lights

he is all up for your impulsive decision making

your #1 supporter

“oh? you wanna have fireworks in the field? me too! let’s go!”

pulls out 20 packs from under his bed

you two hold the best parties ever

and sometimes Iida gets on ur nerves but denki’s there to politely ask him to not be a party pooper and that the door is wide open 👀🚪

y’all get in trouble with Aizawa all the time

like by now, he’s sick of y'all LMAOOO

someone told him that there’s a hole in the vending machine?

“y/n, Kaminari, come here”

but they weren’t even snitching on you two but it’s sooo obvious who did it hahaha

a lot of running around in the hallways and chasing each other

your so much faster than he is but he loves hearing your laugh echo the place

he clings on to you a lot cos ur soft

he’s usually the little spoon change my mind no u can't but when ur exhausted and all out of energy, he’s there to scratch your back or behind your ears, loving the way your tail wags in your sleep

you guys growl at each other

like playfully but it happens a lot

Midoriya walked in one time and lowk thought a fight was about to break down, tryna separate the two of you

you have an actual growl and a fake cute one, guess which one he likes ;))

a/n: aaah this was so fun to write!! thank you for requesting <33

bnha masterlist

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laketaj24 · 3 years

Text

Single in Staten Island: Tattoos & Kisses

Author’s Note: This is a three-part series I am going to do on Pete!! I am going to use the prompts I got in the second part! I talked with a friend about him—he does truly deserve a good girl or someone who won’t fuck him over. Taglist is here! Reqs are open, but I’m slow, no lie.

Warnings: None, just language.- Smut in the following parts.

Pairings:Pete Davidson x Reader

Masterlist

“What’s your order?” The chipper attitude they were supposed to have had left the day you turned in your two-week notice. This coffee shop had been the bain of your assistance. Fuck this place. Fuck these people and fuck their fancy, overdone ass orders. You leaned on the counter, giving the man in front of you a stern look.

He looked around. Clearly, you didn’t have an attitude with him. He’d just walked in the fucking place. “Uhm—,” his eyes found the menu, but there was an aloofness in him that triggered you.

“You’ve been in line ten minutes, and you don’t know what you want?”

“Yep.” He nodded and shot a smile. “Ten whole minutes. Still a fuck up.” His finger tapped on the counter, and he looked up at the menu. Nothing here looked worth seven dollars, especially not a coffee. “What’s good here?”

“Look, I don’t know. ”You sighed. “I’m about to go lunch, and you’re the last order.” You flourished the lack of customers behind him.

“You from around here?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Your attitude is pretty fucked up; I figured you lived up the block.” He took a pregnant pause and chuckled. “An Everything Bagel, jalapeño cream cheese, and a grande black coffee.”

“What’s the name?”

“Pete.”

“Spell that.”

“You can’t spell Pete?”

“You from around here?” You quipped.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I figured your name is probably spelled all fucked up and shit.”

He laughed, which was not what you expected; you just knew this was the gasoline added to a shitty fire. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Kinda weird.” He shrugged. “You wanna go somewhere better than this on your lunch break?”

“Unless you have a gram and a beer, no.”

“I have a gram and some black coffee if the barista doesnt quit before she puts my order in.”

You snickered. “That’ll do. Where are we going?”

“Anywhere but fucking Staten Island.”

The ferry. It hadn’t been in the plans, but you were happy you said yes to the lean stranger. He leaned against the railing, a cigarette in one hand a flask in the other. It wasn’t precisely beer, but you had no complaints. “You want a sip?”

“Sure,” You took the flask without hesitation and chugged down three gulps before passing it back to him. It was gin, dry grade A gin. “That’s the kind of shit you bring on a ferry?”

“I thought I grabbed my tequila, but I must’ve drunk it all.”

“Drunk at 2pm on a Tuesday?”

“I’m not drunk; I’m enjoying a drink. Judge much?”

You shrugged and turned, resting your back on the railing beside him, feeling the cool breeze run through your hair. “So why did you invite me out here?’

“You looked like you needed saving, and I’ve been there. Shitty job with shitty people.” He flicked his cigarette ashes into the water below him. “Plus, you cussed me out on the job, which means your kinda badass.”

“I like to think I am.” You admit and nod your head. “You ever get tired of doing the same old shit?”

“yep, that’s why I get tatted.”

Then you noticed the tattoos spackled across his body in random places, and they were once more in a random fashion. Yet, you liked them; they matched him, odd and somehow insanely attractive. “Pete, I want a tattoo. Take me to your guy.”

“What do you mean to take me to my guy? Does it look like I have a guy?” Pete laughs. “I’m like a god damn coloring book; let’s find the first shop and just do it. I pick yours… you pick mine. Stranger tats.”

“Why not?”

“Your boyfriend won’t appear and try to beat my ass?”

“Unless you’re imaginary, too, I think you’re good.”

‘Fucking Brickhouse like you, single in Staten Island?”

“Single in Staten island is not a rarity.”

“Well, you’re not wrong. It’s the only way to be.” He said with a bit of sarcasm.

The conversation was random the entire ferry trip; you made wisecracks and rebutted, flirting with you but keeping his distance. “Tell me three weird facts about yourself.” You twiddled with your fingers and looked up to meet his brown eyes. “I’m sure you have more than three, but spare me the rest.”

“I like to be alone.” Pete looked back. “But I love a good party, but when I go, I hang out alone and watch people. People are interesting as fuck.”

“I find them to be boring.”

“That’s because you’re not looking for the right things.” He pointed to the woman about fifty feet away from the two of you. The older lady sat tired, sunglasses covered her face while the gray hair blew wild in the wind. “See Gladys there; she’s about to go home to a man she’s been with for thirty-five years. The best dick she ever had.”

Your face radiated with heat as you suppressed a chuckle. “Has to be to stay with it thirty-five years.”

“You haven’t had someone dick you down that makes you want to stay thirty-five years?”

“Not even make me want to stay a week,” You answered.

“That’s fucked up.” Pete smiled.

“That’s life, Pete. Unfortunately, people don’t always get good dick like Gladys.”

“Yeah, lucky bitch.” His phone rang, and he shifted, digging in his light denim jeans to retrieve his iPhone and answer the call. “It’s Pete.”

You turned, giving him some privacy and taking it all in. You didn’t plan to return to work, fuck that place and everything it entailed. You started a new job in three days; you’d take these three days to not give a fuck. That feeling started today; it started with your new friend Pete and this tattoo. The call ended after a few minutes; he didn’t talk about much, just a conversation with a friend and plans he had for a party later tonight.

“The shop is about five blocks from where we get off. Have you decided what I’m getting?”

“I want to see the designs first; I want it to be memorable.”

“Make it your number.”

“Is that your coded way in asking for it?”

“Not coded, I swear.” Pete leaned closer to you. “I kinda think if we are gonna get stranger tattoos, we should have each other’s number.’

“We won’t be strangers then.”

“Call them something else then.”

“I’ll let you know if you can have this number later… I haven't got an invite to this party yet.”

“You're totally invited.” Pete tossed his hands up. “Give me three digits.”

“847.” You snickered.

“Good, I guess I can work for the next seven.”

The shop was grimy, with dark walls and low lights. The smell of weed and liquor hit your nose, and you felt at home for some reason. Your legs ached; the walking didn’t bother you usually but pairing it with walking didn’t do much good for you. You sat in the chair across from Pete. “Don’t make this a dumb tattoo.”

“You’re talking to the king of dumb shit.” He pointed to the small elephant; it wasn’t dumb, though. It had a feminine line design, and it was petite, adorable even. “I’m sparing you today. You’re getting this,” He smiled. “An elephant, not dumbo but a distant hot cousin.”

“I like it.”

“Good.” His smile was sincere. “I hoped you would. When is she up?” He asked the artist.

“I can get her now.” He answered as he started to sketch the elephant onto the transfer paper. “Hop up, sweet cheeks, and it’ll be about ten minutes.”

Pete extended his hand like a gentleman and led you to the red leather chair. ‘Ever had one before?”

“I have three.” You admitted.

“I see none.” He looked you over quizzically. “Not a one.”

“They are hidden….” You answered, choosing not to tell him they were down your chest and down your thigh.

“Secret tattoos. I like it. I can dig it.”

“Sure. Where is this party tonight?” You asked.

“Back in Staten Island.”

‘Can I trust you, Pete?”

“I hope so; I feel trustworthy?”

“You answered that like you didn't know the answer.” You shifted in the seat and pulled your shirt over your head. You revealed the tattoo of the moon phases going down your chest. “Just because you can't see something does not mean it isn’t there.”

“They're fucking awesome, like the person they are on.”

“You only think I’m awesome because you don’t know me.”

“I know enough.”

It was not like you to kiss a stranger because instead, you wanted to admit it or not, Pete was a stranger to you; you didn’t care. You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, and he responded immediately, kissing you back eagerly. His lips were soft, full, and applying just the perfect amount of pressure to yours.

“You two want to fuck or get this tattoo.”

You exhaled, pulling away from him. “Can we do both?”

To be Continued.

@honestsycrets @pyschiccreationtaco @opalsandlacemain @battbeans @placeoffreedom @daddyavesxx @niamandthings @honeyel @locht3ssmonster @itslovengie

#pete davidson #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson x you #pete davidson x black!reader #laketa j writes

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hewhofightsbythesword · 3 years

Text

scotch or irish? tommy shelby x reader

warning/s: underage drinking, swearing, violence, and slight smut

inspired by disco pigs (2001)

A/N: I was really high when I came up this idea. Even wrote it while I was high, but I couldn’t find it the next mirning. Wasn’t sure if I really wrote it or if it was a dream. Either way, it’s here lol After like two weeks. Sowwyy

Tommy and y/n. y/n and Tommy. For as long as the pair can remember, that’s the way it has always been. Born only a few months apart, the two created an instant bond so strong that Aunt Polly said it would transcend through many lifetimes. And of course, Aunt Polly was never wrong in the matters of the heart. This was a friendship full of heart, romantic and platonic love for there was not one without the rest. Tommy’s mother would say to Polly, “That boy... it’s his cleverness that’ll kill him.” Martha found herself confiding in her more, so she continued, “As long as Tommy and y/n have each other... I am not worried.” And everyone knew. Everyone except Tommy and y/n.

The two had very similar minds. What one was thinking, the other was already mentally processing and vice versa. It would be almost adorable if it wasn’t so weird, as Arthur Sr. would call it. It was only weird because they were so smart. Against everybody else (even Polly at times, although she would never admit it), they were always two steps ahead.

From a young age the two understood their natural connection. For example, at the age of seven, Tommy and y/n planned to swear a vow of silence together that was planned to last a total of ten days. At first, y/n was met with slight worry from Tommy.

“We need code names! What should I call you if I need you?”

“You won’t have to need me, silly. That’s the whole point! I will already know, and so will you.” The logic was missing. They were both aware of this but none cared.

The goal was set for ten days. Not a single word was uttered between the kids or anyone else for that matter, aggravating the living hell out of those around them, especially Arthur who would’ve done anything to be a part of the joke. However, by day five, y/n broke the vow, rushing her feet as fast as they allowed a few houses down on Watery Lane.

That day she had heard a few of the older Lee boys, around Arthur’s age, speaking down on the Gypsy Shelby’s. y/n just had to tell Tommy or she was sure she would burst. It was also on day five Tommy came to two realizations: (1) He too would break their vow of silence. There was nothing worth doing if it meant he couldn’t do it with the person who understood him the most. (2) Tommy decided that same day that y/n, in her own right, was a Shelby too.

“Shelby,” he whispers to himself, only for him to hear.

At age 15, y/n was able to convince Tommy to steal a bottle of whiskey from the local pub. Her little hands shoved a piece of a paper with instructions in his direction. “Meet me here,” was all she told him with big eyes before he could even get a word in, running back to whatever held her short attention span. Unfolding the paper, Tommy could see a drawn out map of where to find the only girl who could keep young Tommy on his toes.

If anyone asked him, he would tell them all this was something he had to do. Many nights Arthur and Tommy had to go in all hours of the night looking for their father in pubs. One night in a drunken haze, Arthur Sr. takes his second born by the shoulders, causing him to be dragged onto the floor next to his father. He takes his boy by the face, shaking it a few times to show how serious he was trying to be.

“A man is meant to provide, always. Be a man, Thomas.”

y/n asked and Tommy planned to provide.

Seeing the large “X” marking the destination, it matched the location right before Tommy’s eyes. It was a beautiful far away, empty place from Watery Lane with lots of surrounding nature. It had just finished raining. y/n always did like the way the rain made the earth smell.

She notices her friend right away and runs up to him. y/n takes him by the hand. “I found my favorite tree here. Come on,” she says very nonchalantly.

Tommy shakes his head behind her. “Of course you did, Shelby. Of course you did.”

y/n often thought the world moved too slow for her liking. She always liked to be out and about. Always wild, never to be tamed. She figures that’s why she likes the Shelby’s so much. She was blessed to find a family early in her life that matched her soul. Except, she knows why she likes Tommy so much. He liked to be wild too. He moved just as fast as y/n, and he thought just as fast as her. So there was no doubt in her mind once she tasked her best friend with the alcohol that he'd deliver.

“I just took the first one I saw and ran like hell.” He presents y/n the bottle.

“Scotch whiskey,” y/n reads the label out loud before opening it. Tommy at this point began to see the trouble that she carried within her starting to stir. Confirming this intuitive feeling, y/n goes to make a quick toast like the kind she has seen her father make with Tommy’s. “To your Aunt Pol who would kill you if she ever knew, Thomas Shelby,” she groans out as she takes the first large swing with the most confidence. Even from when they were children, Tommy always wondered how so much confidence could fit in such a small body.

He takes the bottle from her to mimic her actions. “To my Aunt Polly who will find out by the week’s end.” They both laugh before Tommy takes his sip, but when he does, he takes it differently than y/n. “What the fuck, y/n. How can you even drink that shit?” He spits and coughs as he attempts to recover.

“What? I like it.” She shrugs while going for another.

At age 18, Tommy realized he loved y/n. By the time Tommy turned eighteen, it came to no surprise to anyone that he was already turning out to be a ladies man. Girls turning into young women were quick to notice his dark hair and hypnotic blue eyes. He was different than any of the factory worker boys that took after their fathers. He was ambitious. He wanted more to life than what dirty old Birmingham could offer, and the young women knew this so in some way, it even made it seem okay that his last name was Shelby. Almost as if Tommy was being pardoned for being a Shelby. And he hated that feeling.

y/n never made Tommy feel that way. She was always the first and the last one to defend her friend since birth. Crowned by Tommy all those years ago, she was Shelby. What else could have made her break her vow with Tommy all those years ago? Tommy didn’t realize exactly what he was realizing at the time. How could he? They were kids being kids. He couldn’t have known it was loyalty. If it wasn’t clear to Tommy then, it was now.

“You need to get out of here. Go get Arthur and John. This is no place for a woman,” Tommy warns y/n one night out, sensing trouble.

The two found themselves cornered by a group of boys around their age. The Peaky Blinders were gaining respect, notoriety, and fear from those around them. Things were changing for the Shelby’s, but not everyone agreed. Most certainly not the three boys looking for a fight. “Run!”

“No!” She hisses back. She tightens her fist and holds them up.

“There is no fucking way I’m letting you do this.”

“Either I leave to get the boys and we come back to your half-dead body, if we’re lucky or I stay and fight and we may actually win this.” Truth be told, y/n wished she could listen to Tommy and go get his brothers. But more than the fear she felt for herself, it was tenfold for Tommy.

“Damn you, Shelby.” he tells her as the fight breaks out.

No words were exchanged on the walk to The Garrison. It seemed like all of the day’s events were forcing Tommy to think about the vow they made when they were seven. Only this time, Tommy could see the logic she proposed. He did know what she was thinking because he was so sure she was thinking the same as him.

“Whiskey, Harry,” was all Tommy said, not bothering to spare the man a glance. y/n goes to sit at a table like they always do but was stopped by Tommy. He latches onto her hand, careful with the cuts and bruises that were beginning to form. “No,” he tells her, “We’ll be in the snug.” And no one protested. They may have wanted to but at the sight of blood on their clothes and on his razor blade, no one dared to speak out against the Blinder.

Not long after Harry delivers two glasses of whiskey through the snug’s window. “Give the toast, Shelby,” he gives the cup to y/n.

Her eyes never leave his. Even with exhaustion hijacking them, y/n could not name a more beautiful sight. “To you, Tommy. To the best and worst pal in the world.”

In his state of shock, Tommy failed to clink their glasses together, so y/n did it. The sound pulls him out of his own swirling thoughts, and they down their drink in an instant. Like the siamese twins they are, a look of disgust and twinge of horror overtake their faces.

“Scotch.”

“Irish.”

They both spit out like venom but were quick to laugh it off. “You gave me the wrong cup, Thomas!”

“Hey, come on now. I’m still Tommy. I’m just a bloody idiot for not knowing the difference.”

Only a few moments later, the laughing winds down a bit. The atmosphere still remains light only to be shattered. “Why don’t you love me?” He blurts out to y/n. “Like the way I love you?”

y/n’s content smile never falters. “I believe you have been too busy to notice me, Tommy. I’ve been right here. Because if you would have just asked, I would’ve said I loved you too. And I do... love you too.”

He smiles at her. “The best and worst pal in the world.”

y/n could feel her heart begin to hammer against her chest. She no longer felt like she was sitting down but floating. With the adrenaline from the fight gone, she should have been able to feel her wounds mark their place on her skin. But that’s not true. All she could feel was a warm, tight feeling in her chest. The boy she loved, loved her back. And no amount of irish whiskey could ever compare.

“Do you trust me?”

“With my whole heart.”

Tommy’s eyes searched y/n’s for any trace of hesitance or fraud but found none. All he could see were the eyes of the girl he loved the most. And most importantly, the girl loved him back.

He stands up to speak to Harry through the snug’s window and comes back shortly after. “Come here, Shelby.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to kiss the only girl in all of Small Heath that I love.” At that, y/n had no protests.

Their kiss was nothing less of what the two expected. It wasn't awkward. Nerve wracking, sure, but not awkward. Many nights y/n dreamt about this very moment. She dreamt how Tommy’s lips would feel against hers. She often wondered what kind of lover he was. And now she knows, leaving her with no more thoughts to wonder about.

She is the first one to pull away. “I have loved you since we were seven and you called me “Shelby” for the first time.” She places desperate kisses onto his lips, cheeks, and neck. Anywhere they would fall, really, leaving traces of pure love behind.

Tommy feels like he is starting to lose control once her pillow soft lips attack his neck. “Tell me again, y/n. Let me hear you.”

“I love you,” She reminds him in between her kisses.

“Shelby... if you keep doing that, I’m not sure how much gentleman will be left in me.”

She looks up from the spot on his neck she was loving on, having found his sweet spot. “This one? Right here?” She asks, feigning innocence as she lightly bites down. When she hears his soft moan, her tongue laps at the spot relieving it only to finish off with a few kisses.

Before the last one can even land, Tommy’s hand finds her neck to take control once more. He doesn’t squeeze nor does he have a rough hold. He merely wraps his fingers around the neck he will one day dress in the biggest jewels. Tommy guides y/n to the edge of the table and pushes her to lay on it.

“Here, Tommy?” She giggles watching her best friends crawl on top of her

He shushes her with more wet kisses. “No one will come in. It’s just me and you.” His hands caress, squeeze, and tease whatever he can.

“It’s yours, Tommy, my heart. It’s all yours.”

He wraps his hand under her hair that was sprawled over the table into a makeshift ponytail. “Mine,” he proves when he finally feels all of her. His eyes never hers, wanting to sear the memory of the exact moment she became his. Pain overtakes her face but her hands on his lower back right above his ass lets him know she was okay. After a while, y/n signals Tommy to start moving once more and pain starts to transform into a pleasure y/n never thought was possible.

All the sounds the two were making were sure to be drowned out by the ruckus made by the drunk men just outside the snug. Tommy was sure to tell Harry that no one else was allowed in under any circumstances. In his moment of euphoria, Tommy was ready to wet his razor blade for the second time that night should anyone dare barge in and take a look at what belonged to him.

This wasn’t Tommy’s first time but it was the first time he realized all what sex could be. All the men in his life were wrong. He was wrong. It didn’t have to be all what they said it should. All he ever needed was y/n. Now that he had her, he had no intention of ever letting go.

Basking in the momentary afterglow of his best orgasm, he says, “You know what, Shelby? I don’t think I mind scotch whiskey all that much anymore,” his thumb traces y/n lower lip, even getting it slightly moist, “Not when the taste comes from your lips. My lips.”

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby imagine

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osakaso5 · 3 years

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IDOLiSH7 6th Anniversary Special Story: Full of Heart...

Chapter 2: Tearjerking Memories

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Torao Mido: Atchoo!

Toma Inumaru: Caught a cold, Tora?

Minami Natsume: Don't infect the rest of us, please.

Haruka Isumi: Maybe it's hay fever? Apparently that can get pretty bad in August.

Torao Mido: Or, someone's talking about me... A pretty woman, most likely.

Toma Inumaru: Sure, whatever.

Shiro Utsugi: I must say, I'm impressed that you could reserve such an expensive-looking bar for us.

Torao Mido: It was no trouble at all. Besides, Haruka wanted to try going to a bar.

Haruka Isumi: He promised to take me here if I won in a game of Konpira Fune Fune. And I did.

Minami Natsume: Hee hee... Oh, Isumi-san. I didn't know you had what it takes to become a geisha.

Toma Inumaru: Don't teach Haru anything weird, now.

Shiro Utsugi: Since we're at such a fine establisment, we should make the most of it.

[Snap]

Shiro Utsugi: I'll have a Bloody Mary.

Toma Inumaru: You're going to drink? I thought we had a meeting...

Shiro Utsugi: This is a bar. We're not here to see the sights. Now go on, Inumaru-san, order something.

Toma Inumaru: A-alright. Uh...

Shiro Utsugi: As artists, you should enjoy life to the fullest. Don't worry about breaking the rules every now and then.

Minami Natsume: Should you be breaking the rules, Utsugi-san? I believe you're still an ordinary employee of the very strict Tsukumo Productions...

Shiro Utsugi: It'll be fine. I'll just climb the corporate ladder until I'm in a position where I can change the company to suit me.

Haruka's Thoughts: This Shiro Utsugi guy is really aggressive...

Torao's Thoughts: He's supposed to be our newbie manager, yet he's the one pushing us around...

Minami's Thoughts: I'd expect nothing less of the man Ryo-san chose as his last minute replacement.

Toma's Thoughts: I don't think I've ever seen someone order a drink by snapping their fingers before...

Shiro Utsugi: Let's have a toast before we begin our meeting. Order something, everyone.

Toma Inumaru: I'll have beer.

Torao Mido: A gin rickey.

Minami Natsume: Oolong tea.

Haruka Isumi: Orange juice.

Shiro Utsugi: And there you have it. That'll be all.

Shiro Utsugi: Now, would you mind showing me your childhood pictures before our drinks arrive?

Minami Natsume: The pictures for our "Welcome to Kids Room" guest appearance?

Shiro Utsugi: Yes. Did you bring them?

Toma Inumaru: I've got mine, yeah.

Haruka Isumi: Me too. Show me yours first, though. I wanna see what you looked like as kids.

Toma Inumaru: No way, that's too embarrassing. You go first, Haru. You probably look the most similar to when you were little, anyway.

Haruka Isumi: You think so? Okay, fine. Here you go.

Torao Mido: Let's see...

Minami Natsume: My, how adorable.

Toma Inumaru: Whooa! You were super cute! With a round face like that, I'll bet you were a little angel!

Haruka Isumi: Don't call my face round.

Shiro Utsugi: You were a textbook junior idol, if I've ever seen one. You'd have made a good duo with Mitsuki Izumi of IDOLiSH7.

Torao Mido: But that guy's my age.

Minami Natsume: ........ To think that Kujo-san whisked him overseas not long after this picture was taken...

Toma Inumaru: I'd have been so worried for him...

Minami Natsume: As would I.

Haruka Isumi: I came back safe and sound. Nothing bad happened to me either, other than a rude wake up call.

Haruka Isumi: If that hadn't happened to me, I wouldn't be the main vocalist of an outlaw group like ours now.

Haruka Isumi: Pretty cool, huh?

Toma Inumaru: Hey cool outlaw, your orange juice is here.

Haruka Isumi: Whoa! There's an orange slice on the glass! Wow, that's so neat!

Shiro Utsugi: Now, let's toast.

Toma Inumaru: Yeah!

Toma Inumaru: ŹOOĻ...

Minami, Haruka, Torao, & Shiro: Rules!

[Clink]

Minami Natsume: Am I the only one who finds this cheer somewhat... lacking?

Toma Inumaru: We might wanna rethink it, yeah.

Torao Mido: There's a lot of dinosaur stickers plastered all over your house, Haruka. What's this one called?

Haruka Isumi: Uh... That's Dee, the Growlysaurus...

Toma Inumaru: Ah, I remember those! You must've really liked Growlysauruses. Should I buy you one sometime?

Haruka Isumi: I-I don't need one, stupid! How old do you think I am?

Haruka Isumi: Give me my picture back. It's someone else's turn.

Torao Mido: I'll show you mine.

Toma Inumaru: Well?

Toma Inumaru: ...Your limbs were freaking LONG! This is basically just a tinier version of how you look now...

Minami Natsume: Oh my. I quite like the way you looked at this age.

Torao Mido: Yeah, I bet you do.

Minami Natsume: Is this a transformation belt?

Haruka Isumi: It is. I kinda wasn't expecting you to bring a photo like this.

Torao Mido: I learned something recently. Namely, that even a perfect man like me is more interesting with some mundane characteristics.

Haruka Isumi: I guess some kid who plays with transformation belts is a lot more approachable than a flawless celebrity.

Torao Mido: Exactly.

Toma Inumaru: You don't gotta make excuses, you know. The truth is that you just thought it was a nice photo, right?

Toma Inumaru: You said you like all this sentai and superhero stuff. For what it’s worth, I think the pic's nice, too.

Torao Mido: ...That wasn't why I picked it, really.

Toma Inumaru: Yeah, right.

Torao Mido: It was a calculated decision.

Toma Inumaru: No need to play tough. It's fine that you chose a picture you liked from when you were little.

Torao Mido: I told you, that's not why.

Toma Inumaru: Ahaha! You're starting to sound a little too defensive.

Torao Mido: ........ Whatever. Maybe I'll just use a different picture.

Toma Inumaru: Oh, stop sulking, for Pete's sake!

Shiro Utsugi: Don't try to tear it up, now. I agree that you'll most likely garner more attention with a picture like this, Mido-san.

Torao Mido: I knew it. Okay, I'm going with this picture for the show. What about you, Minami? What kind of picture did you bring?

Minami Natsume: Mine isn't particularly interesting. Anyone can look up what I looked like as a child, after all.

Torao Mido: But you did bring a photo, right?

Minami Natsume: I did.

Shiro Utsugi: Would you be so kind as to show it to us?

Minami Natsume: Very well. Here it is.

Toma & Haruka: ...So cute!!!

Haruka Isumi: You were adorable as a kid, Minami! Like a girl or something! A really cute one!

Toma Inumaru: Kinda like Tora, you looked like a mini version of what you're like now, but in a different way! You've definitely got the air of a celebrity here!

Shiro Utsugi: This must be from around the time you were filming the movie Kagurazaka. Even as a child, you had very fine features.

Minami Natsume: Hee hee. Thank you. I do enjoy a bit of unfiltered praise every now and then.

Torao Mido: Was this taken at your home? That's a pretty big piano you've got.

Minami Natsume: Yes. I took piano lessons when I was younger.

Minami Natsume: I had to quit playing when my work got too busy to allow for it, but I finally resumed my lessons a few years ago...

Toma Inumaru: So you're basically a musical genius. That's cool.

Minami Natsume: Hee hee... Yes, it is cool. Now then, would you mind showing us your picture, Inumaru-san?

Toma Inumaru: Sure thing!

Haruka Isumi: What kind of photo did you pick?

Toma Inumaru: I figured at least one of us should bring in something goofy, so I got the funniest one I could find!

Torao Mido: Funny... Ah, you're at a festival, wearing a happi!

Shiro Utsugi: Oh, you've even got a sarashi wrapped around you. It looks very authentic.

Minami Natsume: You must've lived in a neighborhood that loved festivals.

Haruka Isumi: I'm jealous. I wish I could've worn clothes like this to a festival, too.

Toma Inumaru: I could take you to a festival around where I'm from. The neighborhood grannies would be all over you, Haru.

Haruka Isumi: Yeah, I wanna go! This picture's pretty nice. I bet it'll be good for the show.

[Phone rings]

Torao Mido: Hmm...? Oh, now that's unusual. Sogo says he needs to ask me something in person.

Toma Inumaru: Ask him where he is, and if he's nearby, go see him. It could be something urgent.

Torao Mido: But aren't we in the middle of a meeting?

Shiro Utsugi: We're all done now. You may go.

Toma Inumaru: Oh, that's it?

Haruka Isumi: We could've stayed at the agency if all we were gonna do is show our pictures...

Minami Natsume: Now, now. At least we got to deepen our friendship at this lovely bar.

Torao Mido: I asked Sogo. Turns out he and Tamaki Yotsuba both happened to be in the neighborhood, so they're headed here.

Haruka Isumi: Yotsuba's coming, too? I bet he's gonna freak out, because he's never been in a place like this before.

Haruka Isumi: I suppose I'll just have to teach him how us adults hang out.

Toma Inumaru: Says the boy sipping on orange juice.

[Door opens]

Tamaki Yotsuba: Good evening.

Sogo Osaka: Pardon our intrusion.

Haruka Isumi: Yotsuba!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Whoa... This place has a super mature vibe... I knew ŹOOĻ's up to no good.

Sogo Osaka: That's rude to the establishment, you know.

Tamaki Yotsuba: It's not my fault this place looks like people come here to make shady deals.

Sogo Osaka: It's calming. And there are plenty of places like this in the world.

Sogo Osaka: Good evening, Mido-san. ŹOOĻ. I'm sorry for dropping by on such short notice.

Shiro Utsugi: Good evening, Osaka-san and Yotsuba-san.

Sogo Osaka: Good evening. You're Utsugi-san, yes? ŹOOĻ's manager.

Shiro Utsugi: That’s right. Thank you for remembering.

Torao Mido: This has to be the first time you're asking me for anything. What do you want to drink?

Sogo Osaka: Just oolong tea, please.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I want this one! The frozen cocktail that looks like ice! I bet it's yummy.

Sogo Osaka: No, Tamaki-kun. It's alcoholic.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Really? Do they have a version without the booze?

Minami Natsume: I think the bartender could make you one.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Awesome! I'll have one of those.

Haruka Isumi: I want one, too.

Torao Mido: I'll have the alcoholic version. Should I go ahead and order you one too, Sogo?

Sogo Osaka: Ah... Um, alright.

Tamaki Yotsuba: So-chan!

Sogo Osaka: It's fine. This drink is basically just a sherbert, it won't get me drunk.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Don't you know that ice is just frozen water?

Sogo Osaka: I do know that.

Tamaki Yotsuba: So it's still booze! It's just been frozen!

Sogo Osaka: It can't be that strong. And besides, it's the same as yours.

Tamaki Yotsuba: So what if it's the same?

Sogo Osaka: Our matching drinks would make a nice picture for social media.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I can't believe your first approach to everything is still to be some kind of businessman.

Sogo Osaka: It's not as if people can tell how close we truly are based on a picture of some food. If that were the case, we wouldn't truly understand each other at all.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Especially since everything you eat is bright red.

Sogo Osaka: And you only have eyes for King Pudding.

Toma Inumaru: What're you mumbling about?

Sogo Osaka: It was just a mini meeting. We're done now.

Minami Natsume: Much like us, then.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I did it for you guys' sake too, y'know.

Torao Mido: Our drinks are here. Let's toast.

Haruka Isumi: Does MEZZO" have a cheer for when you toast?

Tamaki Yotsuba: A cheer?

Haruka Isumi: It makes things more exciting.

Tamaki Yotsuba: We've got a cheer for calming Re:vale down..?

Sogo Osaka: But it's a bit too long for making a toast. Hmm, a cheer for MEZZO"...

Toma Inumaru: Don't think too hard about it. It can be something simple, like one of you says "MEZZO"" and the other one says "rules".

Sogo Osaka: I see. We could give that a try. Tamaki-kun, which part do you want to say?

Tamaki Yotsuba: The first part.

Sogo Osaka: Alright. Well then, everyone raise your glasses...

Tamaki Yotsuba: MEZZO".

Sogo Osaka: Rules.

[Clink!]

Sogo Osaka: So, what I wanted to ask you is...

Torao Mido: Hold up! We need to talk about your cheer first. Any thoughts!?

Sogo Osaka: Thoughts..? Tamaki-kun, what do you think?

Tamaki Yotsuba: It's kinda short.

Haruka Isumi: Totally. So is our "ŹOOĻ Rules!"

Minami Natsume: Isumi-san. Be careful not to hurt Inumaru-san's feelings.

Toma Inumaru: Ahaha! It's fine! Not like that cheer was my best effort, anyway...

Sogo Osaka: Thank you for the suggestion, Toma. We probably can't use this cheer all the time, but we'll try to make use of it when we can...

Toma Inumaru: Don't sweat it, seriously! It was just the first thing that came to my mind! You don't even gotta use it!

Sogo Osaka: I-I'm sorry if we can't use it often enough.

Toma Inumaru: I'm telling you, it's FINE!

Sogo Osaka: Thank you. That's very nice of you to say. Mido-san, may I tell you why we're here now?

Torao Mido: Let's hear it.

Sogo Osaka: To tell you the truth...

- - - -

Torao Mido: Ah, Ito-san. That brokerage firm CEO who likes traveling and photography...

Sogo Osaka: Yes, him. He took a picture of me once.

Sogo Osaka: And when we discussed his camera, he told me that he saves all his negatives...

Torao Mido: So he should still have them? Just go meet up with him, then.

Sogo Osaka: We don't have that sort of relationship. He may be my father's old friend, but I've been disinherited, so...

Haruka Isumi: Disinherited?

Sogo Osaka: Being disinherited means your parents have cut ties with you.

Haruka Isumi: You were adopted..? And he said you were a disappointment and chased you out?

Sogo Osaka: No, we're biologically related. I might still be a disappointment... But I don't regret my decisions.

Sogo Osaka: I wanted to live as a musician.

Minami Natsume: What a wonderfully sympathetic story. I like you. The world needs more artists like yourself.

Sogo Osaka: Natsume-kun...

Minami Natsume: I hereby pledge my support to Osaka-san. Mido-san, you simply must do something to help him.

Torao Mido: Like what..? I haven't seen the guy in ages, either.

Toma Inumaru: You should still have an easier time getting a hold of him than Sogo. At least call him once.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Toracchi, please! If you call him, I'll stop calling you an evil rich guy!

Torao Mido: I didn't know you called me that in the first place... Fine. I'll give him a call.

Sogo Osaka: Thank you.

Torao Mido: It's no trouble at all, really. You may be an heir with a strict upbringing, but I'm a spoiled youngest son.

Haruka Isumi: So did this Ito-san spoil you, too?

Torao Mido: He owns a boat that I got to ride on a few times, not to mention he's got a few unique side ventures.

Sogo Osaka: Unique side ventures...

Torao Mido: He never told me about them in much detail. He may be a CEO, but he doesn't have any family to share his wealth with.

Torao Mido: So his side ventures have to do with finding said family... ...Ah, he picked up.

Torao Mido: Hellooo? Ah, Uncle Ito? It's been so long! Yeah, it's me, Torao.

Toma Inumaru: That's how I talk to the old ladies from my neighborhood!

Tamaki Yotsuba: He speaks just like Rikkun when he's asking for something!!!

Sogo Osaka: So this is what it's like when you're the youngest child... I wonder if even Iori-kun has a side like this...

Torao Mido: Ahaha. I'm doing fine, just fine. I've got a friend here who wants to talk to you, do you mind if I put him on?

Torao Mido: Here you go, Sogo.

Sogo Osaka: Thank you so much, Mido-san.

Torao Mido: Hmph. Let's just agree that you owe me one.

Haruka Isumi: I can't believe you're still trying to act tough, after sweet talking the guy like that...

Sogo Osaka: Ito-san. It's been a while. This is Sogo. ...Yes, that's right. Sogo Osaka.

Sogo Osaka: Ah... You bought an IDOLiSH7 CD? Thank you very much.

Tamaki Yotsuba: He knows us!

Minami Natsume: This bodes well.

Sogo Osaka: Is it at all possible for me to borrow certain old photo negatives from you..?

Sogo Osaka: I need the photo you took of me and my uncle in our garden. It's very important... Really!?

Tamaki Yotsuba: What'd he say!?

Sogo Osaka: He said he'd reprint the photo for me!

Haruka & Tamaki: Awesome!!!

Toma Inumaru: Yay! That's great!

Shiro Utsugi: Congratulations! Let's all have another toast!

Tamaki Yotsuba: MEZZO"...

Minami, Toma, Haruka, Torao, & Shiro: Rules!!!

Sogo Osaka: P-please, be quiet, everyone. Thank you, Ito-san. I'll come get the photo in a few days.

Sogo Osaka: Where are you now? ...What?

Sogo Osaka: The North Pacific..?

To be continued...

#idolish7 #anniversary story 2021 #translation #i7 #trigger #re:vale #zool

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jungshookz · 3 years

Note

omg it’s me again i just thought of sth and only you can make it so good;; EMT seokjiN and this prompt i saw sth like “will you stop flirting with me? you just got seriously injured and I’m the emt trying to tend to your wounds, i don’t give a fuck that i look cute when i’m concerned, you’re lucky you’re not dead you dipshit”

➺ pairing; emt!seokjin x reader

➺ genre; sfw!! namjoon is clumsy!! y/n is particularly cheeky that even i was like :0!! and handsome seokjin is simply handsome!!

➺ wordcount; 4.9k

➺ what to expect; “i’m just checking out your pupils, darling. trust me. you’ll know when i’m about to kiss you.”

➺ note; i thought i’d kick off the christmas with cee event with a jin drabble seeing as it was recently his birthday!! also i hope this drabble pumps you UP for the other drabbles that’ll be posted this month <3 happy deceember!!

»»————-　❄　————-««

“i just don’t think this is a super good idea, you know?” namjoon mutters sheepishly, looking down at you while you busy yourself with tightening his laces, “i mean, i can barely walk three steps without tripping over a normal floor, so i don’t know if me on ice is going to be any better-”

“oh, will you please give it a break? i’ve got you!” you get up off the ground before dusting your knees off, “besides, you were the one who said you wanted to try ice-skating - and it’s not like the ice skating rink is as steep as a mountain or anything. it’s all nice and flat! see?” you gesture towards the zamboni currently making its rounds on the ice, “and we came here just in time for a nice, clean layer of ice for us to skate on. there’s nothing that could go wrong!”

“nothing that could go wrong?!” namjoon gawks, hoisting his foot up so he can rest his ankle across his knee, “look at this thing, y/n! what kind of a shoe is this?” he taps his fingernail against the metal blade before quickly retracting his hand and shuddering, “these things are literal weapons- why can’t i just skate without the skates?”

“because that... wouldn’t be ice-skating anymore? that’d just be... ice-walking. and your sneakers won’t do you any good on the ice, anyway,” you shake your head before shrugging, “the blades are supposed to help you, like- they get a… solid grip on the ice and it helps you move around better, you know? something like that.”

namjoon scoffs and leans back on the bench, “please explain to me how a thin metal blade is supposed to get a solid grip on ice-”

“look, the offer to get you one of those little kiddie things for you to hold onto still stands.” you point over to the front counter, “they have one that looks like a penguin! it’s adorable! i mean, i think it’s a little shorter than your knees so you might have to crouch down a little if i get one for you-”

“wha-” namjoon immediately frowns before crossing his arms, “y/n, i am a grown man. i don’t need to hold onto a penguin-”

“okay, suit yourself!” you chirp, sticking your hand out for him, “c’mon, you manly man. i wanna get on the ice! i’ve been waiting all week for this-”

namjoon grumbles curses under his breath as he pushes himself up off the bench

penguin

he doesn’t need a penguin!

how dare you!!!!!

you can’t help but giggle as you watch him waddle towards you, being very careful not to fall over and twist an ankle

admittedly, bringing namjoon to an ice skating rink probably wasn’t the best idea

one time he sprained his ankle after tripping over literally nothing and he had to use a crutch for like two weeks

he’s verY susceptible to injuries

when he first brought up the idea of going to an ice-skating rink you were going to turn him down and suggest something safer and more namjoon friendly...

but it’s december!

and december is literally the time to go ice-skating!

and there’s always a hot chocolate truck that’s parked right by the rink so hopefully you’ll be able to soothe namjoon’s bruised bum (you’re betting that namjoon’s bum will be all sorts of bruised after ten minutes on the ice) with extra whipped cream and marshmallows

hopefully he won’t be as grumpy as he is now when he’s sipping on a big ol mug of rich, creamy hot chocolate

“we’re going to have so much fun! the last time i went skating, i-” as soon as you slide onto the ice, namjoon suddenly yanks you backwards

you turn to look at him only to see him gripping onto the railing for dear life

he’s not even on the ice yet!

big ol’ wimp

“what’s the matter? cold feet?” you joke, namjoon giving you an unimpressed frown, “what?? you have to admit that was a good joke-”

“that was an awful joke-”

“namjoon…” you purse your lips and place your free hand on your hip, “you know that you have to be on the ice in order to ice skate, right?” you give his hand a reassuring squeeze, “i’m not going to let you fall. i promise! but in the rare case that you do fall, feel free to fall on top of me to cushion your blow. i’ll gladly break a couple of ribs just to keep you from hitting the ground!”

“what happens if you skate circles around me and end up cutting a circle into the ice and then i fall in??”

oh god

here we go

“that’s not going to happen, namjoon.” you shake your head, “because we’re not in a cartoon.”

“what happens if i accidentally fall backwards and end up stabbing myself in the eye with the blade?”

“that’s not going to happen, namjoon- first of all, the tip of the blade is rounded off, so you won’t be stabbing anything at all, and second of all, we both know you’re not nearly flexible enough for your body to be able to bend in half like that-

“what happens if i fall to the ground and someone skates over my fingers and slices them off?!”

“that’s not going to-” you pause for a split second, “well, that could happen, so maybe just don’t fall and remember to keep your hands off the ice-”

“okay, well- i don’t want to do this anymore!!!” namjoon lets go of your hand and you resist the urge to fall to the ground and let out a primal screech of rage, “if there’s even a chance that i’m going to lose the tip of one finger today, there’s no way in hell i’m getting onto the ice-”

“you’re not going to lose any fingers-”

“how can you be so sure?!”

you immediately shut up before reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose

you love namjoon with all your heart but sometimes he’s just.., a little much

he’s not very big on risk-taking

he’s always been very content just staying within his comfort zone which is fine!

you never pressure him into doing anything if he very clearly is uncomfortable with it

with that being said, it’s just that whenever you even try to nudge him like a centimetre out of his safety bubble, he flips out on you just like how he’s flipping out right now

like that one time you made him try a vanilla bean frappucino (arguably the plainest most basic frappucino flavour on the starbucks menu) instead of his usual iced americano and after he took a sip he accused you of trying to make him get diabetes

it’s not like you’re purposely trying to torment him by forcing him to ice skate

you just wanted to come here and have a good time with your friend!

“namjoon, you seriously need to calm down-”

“i am calm! i am so calm! in fact, i’ve never been MORE CALM-!”

it doesn’t take long for you and namjoon to start bickering with each other, the both of you too wrapped up in yelling at each other to notice the weird glances you’re getting from everyone

“all i’m trying to say is that the only reason why we’re here in the first place is because you said that you wanted to try-”

“yeah, and now i change my mind! what, are you saying i’m not allowed to change my mind?”

“i never- i never said you weren’t allowed to change your mind, i just want you to try to understand that it can be a little frustrating for me to set everything up for you only for you to chicken out at the end-”

“chicken out?! how dare you?! i am not chickening- i’m backing out for the safety of my eyeballs and my hands-”

“i said i would hold your hand the whole time!”

“that’s not secure enough! you holding my hand on slippery ice as a form of safety is equivalent to me getting on a rollercoaster using flimsy shoelaces to tie me to the seat-”

“that’s why i said i would get you the penguin so that you have two handles to hold onto-”

“i don’t want the friggin’ penguin!” namjoon snaps, stepping aside when a little kid nudges past him only to immediately glide onto the ice

the two of you pause to watch him and you gawk when he starts zipping back and forth like a maniac

that could be you right now

you, too, could be having a blast on the ice right now if it weren’t for your manbaby friend over here

you gesture to the random child currently twirling around on the ice before scoffing, “namjoon! look at him! if that literal toddler can do that on the ice, you can at least step forward to stand on the ice-”

“that is not a child, that is just a very tiny professional ice skater-”

you press your lips together in frustration as namjoon continues to list off reasons why the two of you should just go for hot chocolate and then go straight home

and for a second you think about giving up and just giving him what he wants but...

no way!

you are noT letting him talk himself out of this one this time

you wanna go ice skating today and you’re going to figure out a way to make both you and namjoon happy

okay

so he doesn’t want to hold your hand

he doesn’t want the penguin

what other options do you have??

you twiddle with the end of your scarf before pausing and looking down at it

…

lightbulb

»»————-　❄　————-««

“alrighty… how does that feel?” you tighten the knot before giving namjoon’s stomach a pat, “nice and secure?”

yep

that’s right

you ended up tying your scarf around namjoon’s waist like some kind of a leash

you’re really hoping people won’t think this is one of those pet-play situations where namjoon is your human puppy and you’re his BDSM dominatrix

you’re not shaminG the kink or anything!!!

you’re just not into the whole arf arf roll over thing

it probably didn’t help that you wore a leather trench coat today

the weather’s finally cooled down enough for you to wear it so obviouSLY you had to wear your super cool leather trench coat but now you feel like you should take it off just in case it makes you look like you’re... into barking

namjoon hooks a finger into the scarf and gives it a little tug, “…i suppose… this is better than nothing…”

“great!” you sigh in relief, “so… i’m gonna take it nice and slow, okay? we’ll start off with some basic gliding and then we’ll go from there.”

unfortunately the ice is a little rougher now because it took like twenty minutes for namjoon to practice just standing on the ice without toppling over

you’re just glad that he’s now willing to actually give skating a try instead of giving up and going home

this is progress!!

you wonder if you’ll ever be able to convince him to go skydiving with you one day

...baby steps

“so, gliding is kind of like… it’s kind of like marching, i guess?” you hum, “it’ll help you transition into skating. you’re gonna march two steps forward and then let yourself just glide forward…” you wrap the end of the scarf around your fist to really make sure that it won’t slip from your fingers (because you’re 100% sure that namjoon will have a meltdown if you let go of it) as you continue to skate backwards slowly, watching namjoon’s feet like a hawk

you’re surprised he hasn’t fallen yet what with his wobbly knees

“am i… am i doing it??” namjoon asks dumbly and you can’t help but grin when he starts to pick up the movement

thank god he’s a fast learner

“hey, look at you go!” you laugh lightly, giving him a thumbs up, “you’re doing it! i mean, we’re going pretty slowly... but you’re doing it!”

namjoon reaches forward to grab onto the scarf when he wobbles a little and you immediately stop so that he can rebalance himself

(you don’t know how you’re going to catch him if he falls because he’s definitely going to end up crushing you and breaking all the bones in your body)

the two of you spend the next twenty minutes or so slowly making your way around the rink

for the most part, namjoon does just fine

there was one point where a little kid knocked into him from behind and he nearly fell over buT luckily he grabbed onto the railing before anything happened

he looked like he was fully ready to chase after the kid to strangle him but that’s beside the point

you let out an impatient little sigh as people continue to whiz past you

boo

you wanna do some whizzing too!

“are you…” you trail off, looking back over at namjoon, “okay to move on to stroking?”

namjoon’s brows furrow as he lets go of the scarf after regaining his balance, “stroking?”

“mhm!” you nod, turning to glance over your shoulder for a second to make sure there’s no one behind you, subtly skating backwards a tiny bit quicker, “it’s literally just, like, a longer version of gliding. you just extend the same motion for a longer period of time, that’s all.”

“oh... like... like this?” namjoon pushes off a little harder and you nod enthusiastically at the smooth movement

“yeah, there you go!” you laugh when namjoon picks it up with no problem, “look at you! you’re a natural... you might even be better than that tiny professional ice skater from earlier- make sure to lean forward a little…”

namjoon grins excitedly as he continues to glide left and right all while you (unbeknownst to him) gradually pick up your pace while pulling him towards you

hey!

he’s doing it!

this wasn’t as hard as he thought it’d be

he’s doing it!!!!!

and he’s going waY quicker than he originally was, which is probably a good sign, right?

“can i take the lead?” namjoon stands up a little straighter and puffs his chest out, “i wanna lead you now!”

you slow down a little and look down at the scarf that you’re still clutching onto for dear life, “you wanna take th- okay, well, do you want me to untie you?”

“oh no, i think you should still hold onto it just in case, but i wanna lead the way!” namjoon bounces up and down excitedly and clasps his hands together, “please, y/n? you’ve seen how fast i can go now!”

right

he can go super fasT on his own and it’s not because you’ve been pulling him along like a little wagon

you know what

it’s fine

you’re not worried about namjoon leading the way mainly because you know he’s just going to go around and around in slow circles

you could probably get away with closing your eyes while he pulls you around

you snort before nodding and sliding to the side so that he can skate past you, “alright, hotshot. you take the lead. now it’s really going to look like this is a leash- woAH-” your eyes widen in surprise when namjoon suddenly surges forward, his legs going left and right and left and right at a consistent pace-

oh god

okay

you speed yourself up as well to try to keep up with him, keeping your grip tight around your poor stretched out scarf

“namjoon-!” you laugh uneasily, “take it easy, you speed demon-”

“we should go ice skating all the time!” namjoon cheers, raising both his hands up in the air as he continues gliding like a maniac, “isn’t this fun?!”

“oh shit, sorry, excuse me-” you try your best noT to collide with people as you skate past them, “namjoon, i know you think this is fun but i really think you should slow down a little- oh, frick-” you curse to yourself when you notice that your scarf is caught in the clasp of your bracelet

shit!

this scarf was expensive!!!!

there’s no way you’re going to accidentally yanK out the threads and ruin it

“c’mon, stupid thing...” you look up for a brief second to make sure that namjoon’s still going straight and that he’s not about to round a corner or anything before looking back down to try to unhook the thread

you could try tugging on it but you’re worried that it’s going to mess up your scarf and you are noT willing to take that chance

“i’m turning here!”

“uh-huh, yeah...” your tongue pokes out in concentration as you use your nail to try to pluck it out and...

ah!

success!

there we go

no destroyed scarves today!

“what did you just sa-!” your eyes widen in surprise when suddenly the scarf disappears from your fist and you look up to see that the-

SMAK!

»»————-　❄　————-««

...

my head hurts

...

my ass hurts too

...

you peel an eye open slowly before closing it again

holy moly

your head is spinning and your ears are ringing and you’re pretty sure your eyes are permanently crossed because you can’t seem to get your vision to focus

is it possible to feel like you want to throw up and pass out at the same time?

you squeeze your eyes shut before shaking your head a little in a poor attempt to shakE the pain away

jesus

what happened??

the last thing you remember is going full speed on the ice and then everything went black

you push yourself up onto your elbows before looking around

you… are in a van that smells like bleach for some reason

why are you in a van??

oh god

were you kidnapped???

were you chloroformed and kidnapped???

you jump when one of the doors suddenly swings open and you immediately pull your legs up and away so that your kidnapper can’t reach over and drag you out by the legs

“hey, you! how are you feeling?”

“i- um-” you sit up all the way before turning and leaning back against the metal bench screwed into the side of the van, “i think i’m oka- a..a...aaaaaayyyy....?” you trail off dumbly, finding yourself being unable to shut your TRAP

okay

hello

you blink owlishly at the very handsome kidnapper before tilting your head to the side a little

the corners of his mouth twitch in a smile and he mimics your movements, tilting his head as well

maybe… you weren’t kidnapped

you just died and went to heaven, that’s all!

this is heaven

heaven is the back of an impeccably clean van and you are currently staring at a real-life angel

“sorry you woke up all alone, by the way- i just had to ask your friend a couple of questions as to what happened... i also had to comfort him a little because i’m pretty sure he thinks he killed you-”

“i’m sorry, am i not dead? is this not, like, the bus to heaven or something?” you ask, looking around at your surroundings

there’s a lot of medical-related tools and gadgets in here considering the fact that this is heaven

apparently heaven has heart defibrillators which doesn’t make much sense

“hey, hey- relax!” you jump when you feel him wrap his fingers around your ankle to get your attention, “you’re not dead. this isn’t the bus to heaven. you’re just in the back of an ambulance. you got into a little collision with the plexiglass barriers.”

okay

that makes more sense

“oh, thank god.” you breathe out, “because if i did die, then body slamming into plexiglass would’ve been a humiliating way to go.”

“mm, i totally agree. i would’ve been embarrassed having to drag your dead body away from the plexiglass.” mr probably-not-here-to-kidnap-you laughs lightly and opens the door a little wider for himself, “i just wanna patch you up. will you let me do that?”

you feel your mouth go dry when he takes his jacket off

hello broad shoulders

“you can do anything you want to me.” you blurt out, watching in awe as he steps into the ambulance to join you

you’re pretty sure the fact that you might have a mild concussion has something to do with it but your filter has just completely disappeared because jesus christ you want this man to ram into you harder than you rammed into the wall

you just don’t get it

how can one man be so... attractive?

the soft, perfectly tousled hair is right!

the pillowy, cherry-coloured lips are right!

the twinkling brown eyes are right!

the low, soothing voice is right!

the broad shoulders and equally as broad chest... veRY right

everything is just so RIGHT

you swallow thickly when he sits down across from you and crosses his legs, his knees practically pressed right up against yours

you’re certainly not complaining about being so close to him but you’re definitely going to cramp up like this and you always make really weird faces when you get pins and needles shooting up your legs

you move your legs so that your ankles are on either side of his thighs before scooting your bum a little closer towards him

heh >:-)

“can you tell me what your name is?” he asks, pulling a first-aid kit out from under the bench

“y/n y/l/n.” you answer almost instantaneously, keeping your eyes glued on his face as he rummages through the box

“mhm… very good…”

“what’s your name?” you watch as he rips open a little gauze pad

god

even his fingers are pretty

“seokjin.” seokjin smiles sweetly, your heart skipping a beat when he reaches up to brush some hair away from your forehead, “i’m just going to clean your cut up a little bit. stay still for me, yeah?”

you nod obediently and find yourself leaning forward a little bit even though you know you probably don’t need to

“what’s your last name?” you ask, seokjin looking down at you for a brief second before focusing back on the cut on your forehead

“kim. why?”

“just wanted to know what my future surname is going to be, that’s all.”

seokjin snorts before raising a brow, “quite the charmer, aren’t you?”

“it’s not every day that i get to talk to a very handsome ambulance man.”

seokjin chuckles, smoothing his fingers over the pad to make sure that it’s secure before pulling away, “mm, that’s fair. can you tell me what day it is?”

“saturday. which i think is the perfect day out of all of the days to go out on a date, because if we get super drunk and have crazy sex tonight, we can wake up late tomorrow and go out for brunch-!”

seokjin suddenly pinches your lips in between his fingers before frowning in concern, “your bottom lip is a little busted.”

“pheel vfree to kiss it bhetter.” you murmur, seokjin pulling away to rummage through his little kit again, “you look really cute when you’re concerned, by the way.”

“is that so?” seokjin hums, pulling a q-tip out and a tube of what looks to be some kind of a gel, “you can’t go around kissing strangers, you know.”

“you’re an exception.” you grin, dodging the q-tip when seokjin tries to dab some gel on your lip, “i was serious about the date, though. what do you think?”

“i think-” seokjin tries again only for you to turn your head the other way, “i think that you need to stop flirting with me so that i can do my job-”

“i’m letting you do your job!” you argue, “i’m just asking you an innocent question, that’s all-”

“if you were letting me do my job, you would be all patched up by now-” seokjin laughs lightly, shaking his head and leaning backwards when you move your head again, “okay, how about this? i will happily go out with you if you just stay still and let me clean up your lip.”

you perk up immediately, “for real?”

“for real.” he nods, holding the q-tip up, “are you willing to cooperate now?”

“mhm.” you hum contently, leaning forward and immediately pursing your lips, “please fix my lips so they’ll be nice and healed by the time we go out on our date.”

“why? are you planning to do a lot of kissing on our date?” seokjin teases, applying the gel before using the other end to dab off the excess

“that’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

seokjin presses his lips together to hold back a smirk

you are... awfully cheeky, aren’t you?

he’s verY into that

and bonus points because you’re very attractive and definitely his type

“okay, lemme just do one last thing here.” seokjin reaches into his shirt pocket for a little flashlight before reaching over and pinching your chin in between his fingers gently and bringing your face closer to his

“you’re not even going to wait until after our first date to kiss me?” you murmur, your eyes widening slightly, “and i thought i was coming on strong.”

“i’m just checking out your pupils, darling.” seokjin hums, “trust me. you’ll know when i’m about to kiss you.”

you shift in your spot a little as you feel youR cheeks starting to heat up now

oh,.,. how the tables have turned.,,.

seokjin’s just glad that he finally figured out how to get you to stay still so that he can get along with his procedures smoothly

“hi, pretty girl…” seokjin coos, raising your eyelid gently so that he can get a good look at your pupils, “mhm, that’s right… just keep your eyes on me…”

gladly

you’d keep your eyes on seokjin for the rest of your liFE if you could

“is this finally the part where you kiss me?”

“nice try, cheeky.”

»»————-　❄　————-««

“so y/n’s going to be okay?” namjoon chews on his thumbnail anxiously and you reach over to pat his knee reassuringly

the poor thing is going to chew his entire hand off if he doesn’t stop soon

he joined you on the ambulance ten minutes ago but for eight whole minutes was just profusely apologizing to you (“i’ll never put on another pair of skates for as long as i’ll live!” “namjoon, it’s fine-” “for as long aS I LIVE-”)

seokjin nods as he packs up his kit and slides it back underneath the bench, “y/n’s going to be just fine. you can relax!”

“namjoon - you’re acting like you ran me over with a monster truck. i’m fine!”

“how many fingers am i holding up?” namjoon holds up three fingers and you blink at him before raising a brow

“obviously five.”

namjoon’s eyes widen in panic and he turns back to look at seokjin, “y-you said she was fine!”

“three! three fingers, you’re holding up three fingers-” you giggle, reaching forward to push namjoon’s hand back down, “seriously, joon... i’m fine! i swear.”

“alright, all you have to do is keep her company during the ride.” seokjin clears his throat, “i want to do a couple of scans at the hospital just in case!”

“aw, but i don’t want namjoon to keep me company-” you whine quietly, leaning against namjoon’s shoulder as you look up at jin, “why can’t you keep me company instead?”

“someone has to drive the ambulance.” seokjin teases, reaching down to pinch the apple of your cheek gently, “i’m all yours at the hospital.”

“namjoon can drive.” you push your bottom lip out in a pout before batting your lashes at him, “don’t you wanna hang out with me?”

“if namjoon’s driving skills are as good as his skating skills, i think i’m going to have to pass.” jin laughs lightly, sliding back into his jacket “we can hang out once we get to the hospital.”

namjoon narrows his eyes suspiciously as he glances back and forth between the two of you

...

..,.,...the energy in here...,.,..

.,,.,.,,the vibes,.,..,

someone definitely wants to fuck someone

seokjin sighs to himself as he hops into the driver’s seat before slamming the door shut

he pulls his phone out to check the time before smiling to himself because :-) your number is on his phone :-)

he wasn’t expecting to get a cute girl’s number today but he welcomes this surprise with open arms!

“y/n y/l/n...” he murmurs under his breath, reaching up to adjust the mirror

your name does seem like it’d fit with his surname

his ears prickle when he hears your muffled voice through the thin partition and he leans back a little so he can do some sneaky eavesdropping

“i am planning... to have so much sex with that man. but in like a romantic way, you know? because i’m classy like that.”

seokjin snorts to himself before shoving the key into the ignition

(for the record: he feels the exact same way as you do).

christmas with cee 2020 masterlist

🎁what would you like from ceenta this year? 🎁

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