The Struggles of Your Average Young 20 Something

Someone Is always doing something, talking about anything, teasing, bantering, playfully slandering, so Bruce grew accustomed to noise. Its hard not to, with his nest of birds.

But this particular topic has him on mute;

"Why do YOU get him when he's old?"

" Oh my GOD, Jason, I'm LITERALLY the oldest. You ALWAYS have to get everything!"

Jason isn't at all interested in Dick's dramatics. He wraps all 6'4 inches around Bruce's leg like an affectionate leech. "You're the fucking meanest! You'll probably feed B those gross ass protein shakes and force him to watch re runs of Realest Housewives of Gotham!"

"YOU TRIED TO BLOW HIM UP!"

Cass is strong like a tsunami and silent as a snake, jumping on Bruce's back, beautiful eyes full of threat. " Dad stays. Mine."

Bruce pipes up, " I have a retirement plan--"

"Getting railed everyday at the Kent farm isn't a retirement!"

Tim gives Steph a look of disgust. "Gross."

Damian isn't above pulling out his swords. " If I don't get Baba, everyone is dying. Me included. "

"Damian. What did I say about threatening your siblings with murder?" Bruce asks expectantly.

" Oh, I'm not threatening, baba. I'm making a vow."

Alfred doesn't pry his attention from the chamomile tea he's preparing. " Master Bruce stays with me."

"...Alfred, I don't think you'll...You know, be around when Bruce retires--"

"Was that a contradiction?"

They all gulp. The argument is settled quickly, and Bruce spends the rest of his evening with head on Alfred's lap and his hand in Jason's hair, petting like a cat, and listening to RHOG on the TV.

+ series summary: as marius von hagen’s assistant, it’s your job to accompany him to certain public functions. you’re used to being in the background, but this time? the event is an engagement party, and he doesn’t need an assistant. he needs a date.

as soon as the elevator opens to the penthouse floor, you pull the key card out of your purse and march straight to the door on your right.

six months ago you would have hesitated. six months ago you would have knocked politely, with a cup of coffee, a muffin, and a kind smile. 

now, you slap the key against the scanner aggressively. as soon as it turns green, you push down the handle and lean heavily on the door to let yourself in. 

you scrunch your nose as you step over a pair of sloppily discarded high heels, slipping your own off and pushing both pairs aside with a stocking-clad foot. then you venture into your boss’ apartment, deciding to deal with the blonde scrolling through her phone on the couch first.

“you need to leave,” you tell her dispassionately, picking up what you assume is her clutch and tossing it into her lap. “this isn’t a bed and breakfast. mr. von hagen has business to attend to.”

➳ pairing: investigative journalist!jeongguk x daycare teacher!reader. alternatively, spy!jeongguk x assassin!reader

➳ genre: smut, fluff, angst, fake marriage au, dad au, spy x family au

➵ word count: 484 (teaser) / 30.8k

➳ summary: there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jeongguk. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jeongguk desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school.

only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time. 

➳ warnings: themes of parenthood, raising a child, reader and jk are both orphans, reader has a past where she struggled with financially supporting her family, eldest daughter trauma, reader is insecure, fears of abandonment, mentions of violence and m*rder (but not explicit), mention of weapons (guns, knives, grenades, poison),  jk has a bruise from boxing, descriptions of an explosion, blood is drawn twice (via kitchen knife and shrapnel from aforementioned explosion), (1) mention of weight loss, jk changes his appearance in an attempt to fit in, mention of a minor car crash, social drinking, scars (surgical/knife, bullet wounds), characters are liars for the sake of the plot, side characters are misogynists (satire), food descriptions, pet names (hers: angel, good girl, princess his: love). 

➳ publish date: saturday, october 14th 8pm EST

➳ a/n: this fic is part of the "industry baby" collab hosted by the lovely @jeonjcngkook and @mercurygguk! i'm so happy to finally release this fic in honor of spy x family season 2!

smut warnings below the cut!

"How long did you know?" Bruce asked sourly, accepting the mug of tea Alfred proffered.

"I've known almost from the beginning," Alfred admitted, trying and failing not to sound smug.

Bruce's eyes narrowed and the butler shrugged. "I counseled him to tell her the truth if he thought she was trustworthy. By happy accident she was working at a restaurant that Cobblepot was using to launder cash at the time."

"So-"

"So," Alfred continued, "By happy accident she was well placed to feed him information no one could trace back to her. AND she happens to be a fantastic chef."

"How did they meet?" Bruce sighed. He had a headache. This IS something Jason would do. Have a double life stacked on a double life.

"They're usually vague on the details. But at least one of them was inebriated. Of that I'm reasonably certain."

"Hn."

"She's lovely. And her mother adores Jason."

"You've met her mother?" And more importantly if you had family how much did THEY know? If your mother was close enough to you to 'adore' Jason-

"Of course. A couple Sundays a month they host informal dinners. And of course dinner for the strays- as Miss Y/N is pleased to call anyone who doesn't have another place to go for holidays."

"Hn."

"Lively certainly but not quite my cup of tea."

"Hn." Jason had a life. Friends. A whole network and none of them had even known.

"Don't pout," Alfred scolded. "You can't blame-"

"It's dangerous."

"Your love interests have criminal records," Alfred scoffed. "Her fondest ambition is to own a farm-to-table restaurant and teach ex-convicts to cook."

"Alfred-"

The lack of Sakusa content on my blog pains me. But this got me blushing and creaming at the same time.

Thinking about him brushing your hair off your sweaty forehead. Your breathing is unsteady, chest heaving in the bliss of his body moving on top of you.

"Omi. 'Can't anymore," you sob, feeling so timid under his big body.

"Oh c'mon, baby. I know you can do it. 'Know you can do it for me," he whispers in your ear. He adjusts himself away from you, sneaking one hand between your thighs, stroking your sex.

"I know you want to baby. You were so good for me earlier. Come for me," he increases his pace. You feel another orgasm wash over you, filthy moans leaving your lips. Your body feels like water at this point. No energy left in you. But he always takes care of you. He is so good to you.

theres only a singular thought crossing his mind the second you reach over the counter to plop your phone number written in pretty looping writing directly into his large palm.

he thinks he should wipe his hands.

aone nearly mumbles out an apology for the appearance of them- but even that's cut short when your fingers take his hand in yours- stained from the soot and coal he works with all day, embedded into the very callouses of his hands and it looks so harsh against your own- he can barely keep down the want to pull his hand from yours before you gasp.

t.. thank you so much…. this means so much. you’ve nailed him on the head with how i write him, he’s quiet but the way he shows love is so loud-

does it with gentle touches, does it by guiding you to his right when you’re walking on the sidewalk and he takes the side of the street. does it by setting out a glass of water for you before bed, knowing you like having a glass when you wake up. does it by running calloused thumbs under your eyes when you’re stretching your mouth full of him. does it by never letting you hold the bags filled with groceries.

he loves you by kissing your swollen lips and swallows cries while you’re going stupid on his big cock, whispering that it’s all okay- he’ll make it go away soon, the burn and stretch, promises that you’ll feel good once you’re creaming on his cock.

he doesn’t talk much, never has- but why does he need to when showing you how much he loves you is so much easier.

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — MIYA ATSUMU x FEM READER

Being hot at the grocery store should be illegal.

wc — 800

tags — grocery store meet cute, set in the same universe as the way to the heart is through the stomach

“There is an attractive man on the other side of the grocery aisle,” you hiss at Kiyoko. Your roommate had dragged you out for a grocery run, but as the person who forced you out of the comfort of your home, she could stand to be a little nicer to you. 

Instead, she raises an eyebrow; her face conveying utter disdain, confusion, and slight pity at all once. It’s a little impressive, honestly. 

She peeks between the cracks in the shelves. Looks at you. Looks at the man. Looks at you again. She makes a motion that could be what are you waiting for or let the grandma pass so she can get her multivitamins. 

Sometimes it’s complicated when it comes to Kiyoko. She’s not great at talking without words. It’s because she’s spoiled. Must be nice to have a boyfriend who loves you so fully you don’t have to try to be understood, you think with a hint of jealousy. 

Then, she pushes you towards the other aisle in a gesture that’s unmistakable. 

“Kiyoko!” You’re appalled. “You’re not making me go over there. I’m wearing my pajamas!” 

Your pajamas are grey sweats with multiple suspicious stains from ketchup or blood or some other substance. You’re not sure. That’s why it’s suspicious. 

“Okay? He looks worse,” she says. Notably, she doesn’t tell you that you look fine. 

She probably thinks that’s reassuring. It’s not. 

The fact that he’s also in his pajamas and still looks hot is infuriating. 

And very sexy. 

Terribly so. 

“Just go talk to him,” she says. “You know if you don’t you’ll be thinking about him for days, anyway.” 

“I will not!” 

“Excuse me,” says the hot stranger, who in the time that you spent arguing with Kiyoko, has suddenly moved behind you. “Do ya mind?” 

He’s gesturing at the package of cereal behind you. 

You freeze. How did he move so quietly? And had he heard the conversation between you two? 

“Hello?” He waves his hand in your face - a little rudely. That deducts one point from his overall hotness score. You scramble away, giving him access to the shelf. 

“This is my favorite brand,” he says conversationally, “but my brother got a girlfriend lately, and every time she comes to our apartment she eats all of mine. I’ve told her not to like six million times! And he’s a chef! Why are ya even eatin’ processed junk if ya can get yer professional chef of a boyfriend to make ya whatever ya want? He’s so whipped, I swear.” 

“Aren’t- aren’t you also eating processed junk, then?” You say with trepidation.

He brushes you off with a “No, that’s different.” 

He’s…a little weird. Who just talks to a stranger like that? You have to admit that confidence is attractive - even if you’re not sure if it’s confidence or narcissism as he continues. 

“So, like. Are ya going to ask me out or what?” 

You choke on your own spit. He had overheard. There would be no better time for one of these shelves to fall on you and crush you instantly.

“Woah!” Says the hot stranger, who still hasn’t told you his name before commanding you to ask him out. “Ya okay?” 

He slaps your back as you wheeze for breath - hard. Is he an athlete in his spare time? How does anyone have that kind of arm strength? 

“I-“ You shut your mouth because actually, you don’t know what to say. How do you respond to that? 

“Come on,” says Mr. Bad Bleach Job. “I heard ya and yer little friend talking about me all the way down the aisle. I know you want in on this sexy ass.” 

He’s ridiculous. Are you - are you into that? You’re seriously reevaluating your mental health even as you say, almost to your own surprise, “Can I take you on a date?” 

He wrinkles his nose. “I dunno. Can ya make it a little more romantic?” 

“Why don’t you ask me out if you’re going to be so demanding?” You challenge. 

“Sure,” he says easily. “Wanna go out? We can get fancy sushi for fun and eat McDonald’s after cause that’s real food.” 

Even you can’t tell if the noise that escapes you is a laugh or a sigh. What have you gotten yourself into? 

“Whatever,” you say, handing him your phone. “I think mine was better.” 

“They both kind of sucked. 5/10 for execution, -2 for sheer cringe, -3 for awkwardness.” 

“Kiyoko, read the room.”

small pregnancy mention. boyfriend!kiyoomi part III!!

There’s a feminine voice coming from the bathroom when Atsumu enters his hotel suite.

“Don’t you think you’re being just a little over dramatic?”

There’s a light sound of clanking when he sets his overnight bag to the side, water running and the sound of fizzling foam. Sakusa’s feet make shadows under the door as Atsumu creeps closer, and shallows his breathing to effectively eavesdrop.

“No.” He huffs like he’s pouting, and the voice giggles. “I’m gonna die here, you know. I hate sharing a room.”

“Mmh.” You hum. “Does that apply to me?”

“You’re different.”

Atsumu gapes a little.

There’s… no way Omi’s gone and found himself a girlfriend. No way. I mean, sure, his body’s a ten but-

“You’ll live, baby. I promise.” Your voice breaks a little from the wavering reception of the hotel suite. “Plus, Miya’s your friend. Better him than anyone else, huh?”

Sakusa huffs. “Yeah, but he’s a pig. At least Shoyo-kun knows not to leave his dirty socks laying around.”

Atsumu grins. He didn’t disagree! Before furrowing again. Wait, he calls him Shoyo-kun?

“Doesn’t that guy also stay up till like 3am? I remember you being really grumpy about that last time you shared a room.”

Wait, last season?

boyfriend!kiyoomi part IV!

“So… Where’d you two meet?”

Sakusa sighs.

This was exactly the scenario he was trying to avoid. Sitting on the bed adjacent to his longtime teammate and trying to avert his eyes from the way he kicks his feet from under him like an overgrown school boy. His gleeful - prying eyes sear holes in the side of his head from where he’s got his nose pointed at his laptop monitor, and if his hunch should tell him anything; it’s that little Mr. GossipGirl won’t rest until he’s juiced him of all the mushy details.

But the problems not that he doesn’t like talking about you. It’s the opposite actually, he could start and never finish, it’s just…

It’s embarrassing to get all sweet and blushy in front of this honey-eyed fool or any of his teammates. He hates the vulnerability of it all. Fending off a smile and trying to minimize all of these very big, very honest feelings he has about you. And ever since meeting you he’s been very slowly but surely pushing himself away from his previous dispositions.

Aloof old Omi, safely reclusive - inside his little shell, has peeked his head out and fallen in love with the sun.

This guy’s gonna eat that shit up.

Sakusa grazes his finger along the touch pad, tapping it a few times before grumbling curtly. “Can you go to bed already?”

content: female reader, established relationship, fluff. word count: 0,7k.

note: soft sakusa is my religion.

Sakusa Kiyoomi had a reputation for being serious, collected, competitive, honest and even a little intimidating— well, too intimidating. 

Many say he’s even scary. 

You couldn’t agree more, indeed, he was all that. Your boyfriend’s reputation doesn’t come from nowhere, right?

But that’s the Kiyoomi that the public knew. The Kiyoomi you knew was nothing like what they thought he was, in fact, he was someone completely different.

Your Kiyoomi was someone kind, funny and even somewhat corny. He was someone who planned the most memorable dates, was always spoiling you, had a picture of you as his wallpaper, wore his promise ring every day, gave you lots of cute petnames and—believe it or not—sent kisses at the end of every phone call when he’s away. 

It’s not like he hid how he acted with his girlfriend, which is why so many of his acquaintances were surprised by how much he softened when it came to you, and honestly, that’s one of the many things you loved about him.

The sea of people attending the JVA gala churns and flows, moving under the influence of an invisible natural current and there's a moment in which the crowd parts and Sakusa catches a glimpse of you. From that fraction of a second he notices several things:

First is that dressed in black with subtle gold accents, a thoughtful tribute to MSBY, you're stunning. Easily the most stunning person here even with that sour, bored-almost-sullen expression which is the second thing he notices.

Whether you're scowling because you're alone--because your date, your best friend, is off somewhere else--or you're scowling to stay alone, to keep the 'vultures' away, he's not sure but he definitely notices you're alone.

Again.

Why does Miya keep inviting you when he ignores you all evening?

Sakusa's dark gaze sweeps the gala and finds the setter grinning as the group surrounding him laughs. There's no sign of interest from Atsumu in where you are or what you're doing.

You dutifully attend nearly every mandatory event for Atsumu even though you clearly don't enjoy the event itself and it always baffles Sakusa.

Why do you keep coming when you're so uninterested?

From the elegant waltzing on the dance floor to socializing you're not enjoying this gala any more than you have in the past, not to mention the countless other MSBY events like dinners, charity fundraisers, camps, nothing.

You're always here but never...involved.

Not that Sakusa complains.

More than once he's ended up at your side making unhurried, unpressured conversation as you both avoid the main event.

He's actually started to look for you at events.

He knows the blonde's going to drop you at the first chance he gets and it helps that you're one of the few people he doesn't mind.

Maybe...more than...doesn't mind.

But he's reluctant to identify feelings beyond that.

You're here with Miya.

And despite your insistence that you only show up as Atsumu's friend--to 'provide a consistent, polished public image' you once told him as you rolled your eyes--Sakusa can't help thinking that you wouldn't be here if there wasn't something more to it.

He wants to join you.

He wants to go over there where you stand a few feet away from the bar, close enough so you're not sticking out of the crowd as you stand there staring into your glass but not too close that invites anyone to talk to you, but he can't.

Watching you from the corner of his eye, trying not to be the 'aloof but completely obvious block-head' as Atsumu called him, Sakusa tries to figure it out, what's holding him back.

He doubts your reason for being here, for always being here just as Miya's friend, and, more than that, he doubts himself.

He doubts his ability to interact with people outside of volleyball; is he talking too much? too little?

Is he making too much eye-contact?

Is his eye-contact too intense? Is it not enough? Is he standing too straight? Is he slouching? What's his expression look like right now?

Something occurs to him, a name for this feeling:

insecurity.

It's...unusual.

He rarely doubts himself because he rarely cares about how he's going to be received.

But he cares what you think.

He cares what you think because he likes talking to you.

He wants to talk to you so badly, just be around you, and he wishes he was already with you. That he didn't have to wonder if he was bothering you every time he went up to talk to you.

He longs for the assurance that you want his company, too. That you want to talk to him just as badly and it's the kind of reassurance he would only get one way...

With nauseating understanding, he realizes he doesn't want you to be here with Atsumu. He wants you to be here

with him.

He wants--

And then it hits him with blunt force as the feelings he's refused to acknowledge nearly knock the wind out of him.

He wants you to be with him.

The feelings fill his head so swiftly, so completely that he feels like he's been flipped over and he has to grip the back of a chair to stay upright.

He maintains just enough awareness to notice you casting one last withering look at your date waltzing someone else around the dance floor before putting your glass back on the bar and heading to the door.

Sakusa urges his feet to move and they do but he's not fast enough.

Atsumu's already cutting through the crowd.

Sakusa almost freezes in surprise that Atsumu noticed you at all, let alone was chasing after you with such determination, but the way you've looked like you were slowly imploding tonight keeps his own feet moving.

From his angle on the dance floor Atsumu has the advantage as they both weave toward the exit after you. He gets through the doors first, quickly weaving into the elegant foyer; Sakusa makes it there in time to see Atsumu dash down a hallway. Not outside, as Sakusa expected, but down the dimly lit hallway toward a smaller, unused ballroom.

"You told me it would be different this time!"

Something squeezes Sakusa's heart and tightens his throat as he hears your distraught voice through the thin opening of the doors. He walks up as quietly as he can.

His thoughts are all over the place: pain at your distress, irritation at Atsumu for making you upset, a sick hope that you'll tear into Atsumu, anxiety for how Atsumu's going to respond.

"An' I thought it was gonna be." Atsumu's voice is tender but he sounds...confused.

Almost confused as you.

Sakusa frowns as the blonde adds "I don't know what's goin' on either."

"I shouldn't have come." You sound so frustrated. "I shouldn't have let you talk me into this 'Tsumu."

"Are ya kiddin' me?" Atsumu snorts. "Don't act like yer a victim here. Ya practically threatened my life if I didn't bring ya."

"Well--I--Whatever!" you snap indignantly. "You could have at least given me a heads-up that I was going to be alone all night!"

"How was I suppost'a know ya...would...be..." Atsumu's voice trails off in a moment-of-realization and the other side of the door falls silent with a cold fury.

"Atsumu." Your voice is hard. "You told me you would--"

"Talk ta him, I know! I know! Buy ya don't understand how cranky 'Omi" --Sakusa feels like he's been dunked in ice at the sound of his name-- "can get! Especially when it's me talkin' ta him about somethin' he doesn't like!"

You let out a half-desperate, half-frustrated groan. "Atsumu! You PROMISED me you were going to talk to him!"

"Well-whua--what are we, in middle school?!" he poorly defends himself. "Yer both adults!"

Sakusa feels like he left his stomach back in the main gala because of course Atsumu was supposed to talk to him about something but didn't and it was probably to tell him to leave you alone and stop bothering you at all these events even though he looks forward to seeing you every time and hopes you'll be there and was hoping against hope that maybe you would, too, but no you don't feel anything like that about him or toward him and oh god he spent the whole night staring at you like a fucking creep--he almost dry heaves because Atsumu's right. You're an adult and he's an adult.

So instead of sneaking around and eavesdropping like a child Kiyoomi pushes through the doors.

Atsumu stops mid-sentence, "if ya wanted--" and whips around, eyes bulging as he gags on his words "-'O-'Omi--"

Sakusa forces his stony gaze to shift from Atsumu's guilty expression to your blank, unreadable one.

"Talking about me?" he asks; can you hear the hurt in his voice? Or does he just sound indifferent? Cold?

Your mouth opens and closes as your eyes widen, darting around as you try to assemble your thoughts.

Atsumu protectively steps forward. "'Omi it's not what it--"

"Can it, 'Tsumu!" you snap and shove him out of the way. "Move. You just called me out for not acting like an adult so don't butt in now." The scowl you give Atsumu melds into something else, something still fierce but not angry.

"Sakusa," you say, the fists clenched at your side betraying your determined calm. "Have I done something to upset you?"

Sakusa jerks back in surprise, confusing contorting his features. "What?"

You resolutely search his gaze. "Have I done something to upset or offend you? You usually talk to me...at least for a little bit...at these events but you've been avoiding me all night....Did I do something? Or say something that's upset you?"

Sakusa is dumbfounded. He scrambles to answer because his stunned silence your features crease with worry. "N-No."

"Then...were you...avoiding me?" you ask, unassuaged.

Atsumu's gesturing weirdly behind you, a partner in the world's worst game of charades, and Sakusa glances at him reflexively. You look over your shoulder and the blonde hides his hands but not quickly enough.

"Leave," you flatly demand.

"Huh?! Wha?!!! I wasn't even doin' anythin'!!"

"'Tsumu. Now!" you order and the blonde petulantly sulks out.

You wait a moment, slowly exhaling to reset yourself before turning back to Sakusa with that same anxious, determination. "Sakusa," you start again, "it feels like you're avoiding me tonight...is that true?"

"No."

You frown. "Oh...okay." Your eyes shift away as you rearrange your thoughts and feelings.

"I wasn't," he adds with surprising fervency, drawing your gaze back to him. "I wanted to come talk to you. I was just...nervous."

"About what?"

"If you wanted to talk to me."

"Oh." You look away, eyes widening with something he doesn't understand. "Um..."

"Fer god sakes--"

You and Sakusa flinch as Atsumu bursts back into the dark ballroom looking exasperated.

"JUST TELL HIM!" orders the fake blonde.

"Atsumu!" you snap, lunging at the blonde as Sakusa asks

"Tell me what?!"

Years of fist-fighting his twin make it easy for Atsumu to keep you at arm's length but you make it as difficult as possible for him to get the words out.

"Been--askin'--me!--Every--time!" Atsumu yelps in pain as a slap connects with his face. "GEEZ. JUS' Tell! Him!"

"FINE!" You huff and stop fighting, letting him shove you away. You straighten your fancy clothes and square your shoulders. "I...I only come to these things..." You only look at Sakusa in fleeting glances. "To...See...You."

"Guuhhhohmygosh," Atsumu says dropping his arms from their dramatic gesturing. "That was painful." He exaggeratedly walks out. "Spent all'a this time--" his complaints are cut off by the door clicking shut.

Something melts in the wake of Atsumu's exit. "Okay, that was kind of painful," you say with a sigh and turn back to Sakusa, a small smile pulling at the corner of your mouth. "I'm sorry, Sakusa--"

"Kiyoomi." Now he can barely look at you. "Please."

"Kiyoomi." Your smile bashfully deepens as if you liked the taste of his name on your tongue. After a moment you look up at him and the earnest sincerity pulls his gaze to you. "I like you. A lot. The first time I went to an event with Atsumu it was because he asked... The next few times I went because the MSBY manager asked me to...To keep Atsumu on his 'best behavior'," you say in a bad imitation.

Sakusa doesn't react; he's not sure he's even breathing anymore, too afraid that the most delicate disturbance will destroy the possibility.

You're watching him intently. "But I started enjoying them for myself...Not the events...But seeing you." You take a tentative step forward, testing. Sakusa's heart skips a beat. "I...I liked the way you kept me company." Another small step. "I liked being around you."

Sakusa has no idea what his face looks like right now, what you see as you're searching his expression.

"Do you like hanging out when we see each other?" you ask with cautious hope.

His voice is hoarse when he answers "yes."

"Do you..." you swallow thickly, "like...me?"

Sakusa can't bring himself to speak this time; he simply nods.

Heart throbbing in utter disbelief, ears ringing as he hears you whisper "I'm going to kiss you now...", eyes falling closed as his head swirls with the surprising series of events, Sakusa feels your lips softly press against his. He kisses you back for a moment before the world turns off.

Sakusa wakes up on the floor, his head pounding.

Something softly brushes his hair and he realizes his head's in your lap; you're looking down at him with fond concern.

"Feeling okay now?" you ask without judgment.

In disbelief he asks "did...did I faint?"

You nod, looking shyly pleased. "Yeah."

Sakusa quickly assesses himself and, after not feeling any pain, asks "did...you catch me?"

You lightheartedly laugh. "'Tsumu's always acting like a dramatic ass so I've gotten pretty good at catching people. You're lucky it was me."

Sakusa lets his eyes fall closed. "Yeah."

He smiles, feeling himself blush but not caring.