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saiilorstars · 10 months

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Ch. 24: Damage

Fandom: Harry Potter (Hogwarts years 1-7) Pairing: Draco x OFC

taglist: @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @foxesandmagic

Story Masterlist // Romina’s Masterlist

If you’d like to be a part of this OC’s work/edits, let me know!

The next time Harry saw Romina, he dared not bring up the fact he heard how Draco basically convinced her to go to Hogsmeade after everyone's failed attempts before him. Besides, he had a lot on his plate anyways. That same Hogsmeade trip was also the place where he learned the truth behind Sirius Black. That kind of rage left little to no clear vision about anything else.

"You need to calm down before you explode," Romina watched Harry with concern while the boy in glasses balled his fists over the dining table. "Someone can question you over it and then what would you say? That you snuck out to Hogsmeade and purposely eavesdropped on a teachers' conversation?"

"We've been telling him that," Ron said from across them.

"It's not that easy, is it?" snapped Harry, putting both Ron and Hermione in a silent state. "Black was supposed to be my parents trustee. He was supposed to be their friend and he betrayed them!"

"...he told my parents where yours were," Romina said quietly, managing to calm Harry for the moment. That'd been one of the worst parts for her to hear. Sirius Black confided in the Oswells where the Potters were. They, in turn, notified Voldemort where the Potters were. Romina never felt more ashamed of her family then.

"No one is blaming you for anything," Hermione once again reminded Romina after she'd gone quiet.

Harry's gaze softened when he saw Romina staring at her lap. He could only imagine how Romina was feeling about all this too. Her parents helped Voldemort murder his, and there was nothing either of them could do to change things. "Rom, it's not on you. You're as much a victim as I am—"

"No, I'm not," Romina shook her head. "They live and your parents are dead. I'm sorry." She decided to head back to her own House table before she cried there and then.

"Rom!" the three Gryffindors called after her but it was no use.

By the time Romina took her usual spot beside Arden, she was sniffling with teary eyes.

"Oh, look, something new to cry over today?" Pansy was the first to notice Romina's state. "What is it now?"

"Sod off, Parkinson," Arden snapped then looked at Romina. "What's the matter? You were fine yesterday and—"

"And now that she's gone and visited those little friends of hers, she's gone and reverted back to her depression," Draco spoke from his seat. "You should just stay clear of them, Oswell."

"Oh, like you do," Angel snorted. "Always finding time to come up with new insults for Harry and the others - that sure seems the way to stay clear." Draco rolled his eyes and went back to eating his breakfast.

"Rom, what is it?" Arden asked again, hoping the others would just be quiet and allow Romina a chance to speak.

Romina was aware of the attention she was getting and preferred to end things there. She rubbed at the corner of her eyes and looked up. "N-nothing. I just heard something sad, that's all."

"What'd you expect after talking to those kinds of people?" Pansy gave a nod towards the Gryffindor table.

Romina rolled her eyes and started getting up. "I'm not so hungry anymore."

"Oh no, you can't go without breakfast—" Arden tried to hold onto Romina's arm but the girl pushed Arden away. "Romina!"

Romina didn't listen. She hurried out of the Great Hall and made a beeline for the dungeons, only to bump into Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood. The first thing she noticed was Luna barefoot and for some reason, it just really ticked her off even more. "Again!?" she gestured to Luna's pale feet. "Jesus what is it with these students!?" Her loud voice caught the attention of some passing students and of course she called them out on it. "Yeah, you! Do you just enjoy taking shoes!?"

"They didn't take my shoes," Luna said, the utmost calm as usual.

"Luna there's a game going on with your shoes," Romina sighed, rubbing her forehead. She heard Ginny whisper "I knew it!" on the side.

Luna tilted her head at Romina, studying the older girl. "You're distressed. What's wrong? It's not about my shoes, is it?"

Romina dropped her hand from her forehead. "No…" Her hand gesture on the side was particularly confusing for the two girls since they didn't know whether or not Romina was angry. "Although it's very annoying."

"I'm sorry—"

"No!" Romina cut Luna's apology off. "You're not the one who should be apologizing!"

"What's bothering you?" Ginny was the one to ask. "My brother hasn't done anything stupid lately, has he?"

At that, Romina managed a short laugh. "Which one?"

"Aline, you wound us!" Fred Weasley had come up from behind and swung an arm around Romina's shoulders. George came up on Romina's other side, feigning an offended face with arms crossed and a pout ready to go.

Romina groaned and smacked Fred's arm off her. "Never call me that!"

"Who's Aline?" Both Ginny and Luna asked at the same time, curious of course.

"No one! Go have breakfast!" Romina ushered the girls towards the Great Hall then turned on the twins. "Never call me that!" The twins laughed at her as usual, making her groan again and leave.

"Oh what's the matter, Aline?" Fred was hot on her trail, as was George, which of course further irritated her.

"Leave me alone, Weasleys!" Her hiss was an indication there was something wrong alright. Romina entered the gardens and was striding down with no particular destination in mind except to be the hell alone.

Fred and George exchanged an agreeing glance then rushed after Romina. Before Romina knew it, she'd been hoisted by the twins, each one taking hold of one of her arms, and then promptly headed back to the hallways.

"What—put me down!" Romina's feet kicked in the air as she shouted. "Fred! George! I'm not something you pick up—"

"On the contrary, you're quite light," Fred chuckled with his brother.

Romina had a cold glare on the two when they finally put her back on her feet. "That was not okay!"

"You know what's not okay?" George crossed his arms, settling a good look on her. "The fact you've been completely reserved and...acting plain weird, even for an Oswell." Romina rolled her eyes but remained silent.

"See, that right there would have gotten an easy comeback from you," Fred gestured at the silent girl.

"We're worried, Romina," the twins admitted.

Their seriousness novelty for Romina, and quite endearing. She hated to be causing so much trouble like this, but it was difficult speaking to someone about it. "Thank you, both of you. I'm just...dealing with some things. Family things." The twins looked at each other again. Romina sighed and made wild hand gestures to get their attention again. "I'm going to work on it, I promise."

"Really?" they both asked.

"Because we're not afraid to carry you again," Fred warned, though the hint of a smile made Romina feel like they were returning to their usual playful ways.

"Yeah, you're actually pretty light, we might turn it into a game," George's smile was devious enough for Romina to dread their newest game.

"No, you will not," Romina's warning flew over their heads as they started to think about possible score charts for their new game. She groaned and waved them good-bye, not that they noticed very much.

She had to admit their little skit did lift her spirits a bit. She missed that feeling of happiness, even when it was something as ridiculous as this. It was what made her feel normal again, and definitely not like the daughter of two evil people. These thoughts carried with her into the dungeons and into her dorm.

She crawled up on her bed and pulled out the photograph of Elora and Caplan from underneath her pillow. She shuddered a breath as she met the gazes of the two. "Why did I have to be yours? Out of all the parents in the world, why did I have to be yours?"

Elora's tantalizing smile made Romina's skin scrawl. There was something positively evil radiating from Elora Oswell, even in picture form. Romina was scared enough thinking one day she would end up smiling like Elora, apart from looking just like her.

Suddenly, the dormitory door flung open and startled Romina. "Did you see Lovegood without her shoes!?" Pansy was laughing while she and Millicent Bulstrode ran inside.

"What an idiot!" laughed Millicent.

As Romina hurried to get her picture under her pillow, Pansy looked up and drawled an "ooooh". "What are you doing, Romina?"

"N-nothing!" Romina quickly settled herself in a sitting position on the side of her bed. Pansy's gaze lingered on Romina's pillow, but at the same time Romina noticed the pair of shoes Pansy was holding. "Those aren't your shoes."

Pansy's face went flat. "It offends me that you would think these would be mine. I have better taste than fried up apple seeds." She dumped the shoes underneath her bed and dusted her hands off. "No, these are Loony Lovegood's shoes. The chain passed it onto me."

"Again?" Romina scowled.

"I'm a good keeper."

"Wait till it's my turn," Millicent smirked.

"I'd rather not," Romina got up from bed, wearing an even deeper scowl. "You need to stop messing with her! Don't you have anything better to do?"

"What's it to you?" Pansy set her hands on her hips. "It's a game—"

"Yeah, which Luna didn't create! Honestly," Romina walked over and got on her knees to fish out Luna's shoes from under Pansy's bed. "Maybe if you spent less time playing ridiculous games, you'd have better grades."

"Maybe you should quit butting your nose into things that don't involve you," Pansy shot back but it didn't appear Romina cared. One of Luna's shoes seemed to be stuck on a nail or something. Pansy's scowl almost matched Romina's from before. "Honestly, Romina, you're getting even more annoying than Arden and that's saying something. What's even more annoying is how everyone caters to you every time you're in one of your moods. Don't think I've forgotten you had Draco doing your homework for you!"

Romina stopped trying to reach for the shoes under the bed and looked up at Pansy. "I never told Draco to do anything for me and once I found out, I stopped it. I don't need anyone doing my work for me."

"Good, because I won't be doing anything for you," Pansy spat.

"Funny enough, I wasn't expecting you to..." Romina stretched an arm underneath the bed and finally pulled Luna's shoe out. She then got up from the ground and grabbed the other shoe. "I'm going to go return these to Luna and God help you if I ever find out you play this game again." She swung Luna's shoes behind her shoulder and turned to leave.

"Now what are we going to do?" Millicent huffed. Pansy was fuming in her spot that Millicent swore she saw smoke coming out of the girl's ears. "Let's just go see if someone else has another pair we can hide."

"Oswell's been getting on my last nerve lately," Pansy crossed her arms, scrunching her face. "For some reason, people love bending over backwards for her and for what? They've barely known her. I think it's time she learned her real place."

"Like how?" Millicent leaned on a hip, curious of what Pansy had in mind. As far as anyone knew, there wasn't much known about Romina despite having most of the Oswells' dark nature recognized by society.

Pansy scoured Romina's side of the room until her eyes landed on Romina's pillow. A smirk started making its way across her face. She hurried over it and threw the pillow to the side, revealing a face down photograph. "Whatever Romina's got going on, I'm sure it has to do with that. She's been hiding something all year...and it looks like I'll have the pleasure of finding out."

~ 0 ~

By the time Romina found Luna Lovegood again, she and Ginny were out in the courtyard with a couple other second years. "Luna! Look what I've got!" Romina was happy to wave Luna's shoes in the air.

The girl in question gasped. "Oh, those were one of my favorites!"

"Yeah, well, with any luck, no more roommates of mine are going to be taking them," Romina handed the shoes over to Luna. "And really, if anyone else takes them, let your head of House know, okay?"

"I keep telling her to," Ginny called from her spot on the ground. "But she won't listen!"

"Things have a way of working out in the end," Luna smiled in that lazily, hazy, manner of hers.

Romina chuckled but nonetheless worried over the ongoing game she was sure was nowhere near over.

"You're so nice, Romina," Luna smiled and surprised Romina with a big hug.

"Uh, thanks," Romina hugged back. She awkwardly said her goodbyes and headed back for the dungeons when she was stopped by Harry, Hermione and Ron. The three looked so distraught Romina wondered what happened since breakfast.

"You have got to help Hagrid!" Hermione was the first to exclaim, Harry and Ron quickly followed with pieces of sentences Romina couldn't quite understand.

"Hagrid's been notified—"

"Buckbeak's in danger by—"

"—Malfoy's father has the whole committee—"

"—and he'll get axed!" Ron finished with a loud shout.

Hermione whacked both boys into silence, something Romina was grateful for. The bushy-haired girl explained everything in a much more calm manner so that Romina knew exactly what was going on. Hagrid received a letter notifying him of the need to present himself and Buckbeak the Hippogriff to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. Apparently, Lucius Malfoy's complaint had stirred things into a real problem, something Hagrid was completely destroyed over.

"It's bad, I get that," Romina assured, because as much as the creatures Hagrid loved were scary, she knew the man meant only good. "But...what am I supposed to do? I've got no pull with the Ministry."

"The boys and I are going to look into previous cases with similar situations," Hermione began to explain again, making faces Romina didn't understand yet, "And, well, despite us being totally against it, you seem to get along a little better with Draco, so...maybe if you talked to him—"

"Oooh," Romina rolled her eyes. "You want me to ask him to call things off. So it's bad whenever I speak to him but the one moment where it might actually benefit you all, it's suddenly okay?" The three fidgeted under her flat stare. Romina sighed. "Yeah, alright, I'll...see if I can dig for some human decency in Draco—"

"That'll take eons which we don't have..." Ron mumbled under his breath.

"Thank you, Rom," Harry honestly said, glad to have her on board with one of their plans just like old times. She seemed to be looking better than earlier in the morning.

Romina seemed to guess his thoughts and smiled kindly at him. "I'm sorry for acting so weird, Harry. It's no excuse but I've got family things to deal with and...I guess it's taking a toll on me."

"We've been worried over you," Harry said, getting Hermione and Ron to nod in agreement.

"Yeah, I've heard from the twins and my other friends," Romina sighed, feeling guilty over their attention. Perhaps Pansy had a point somewhere in all her angry spats. "I'm going to try and get better, just watch."

"We're counting on it," Hermione smiled at the girl.

Romina smiled back then noticed Angel and Carolinha walking by, probably towards the dungeons, and decided to walk with them. "I promise I'll have a word with Draco," she whispered to the trio then hurried to catch up with the other twins.

They were more than happy to see her more cheery than before. Carolinha heard of Romina's moment at the dining table and of course assured Romina she was there if she ever needed to talk to someone. Romina chuckled and said she would think about it. When they entered their common room, they found most of their friends around the fireplace, either messing around or taking some of their free time to catch up on work.

"Is that my Supergirl comic?" Romina spotted Arden on the floor, back against the couch just beside Daphne Greengrass' legs.

"Oh, uh, I borrowed it," Arden grinned at Romina. "Is that okay?" Romina's smile was answer enough. "Glad to see you're better!" she then buried her nose in said comic.

"Who's Supergirl?" Carolinha curiously walked over.

"Only one of the best superheroes of all time!" Arden was all too happy to give the background on the iconic character when Carolinha joined them.

"Would you two keep it down?" scolded Draco from the opposite couch. He and Blaise were some of the students catching up on work. "No one cares!"

Arden rolled her eyes and continued explaining to Carolinha, despite the double sets of glares she was getting from the boys. Theodore, who was sitting next to the boys, shushed them as he read out of a Potions book.

"We're going on break tomorrow, are you sure you'll finish in time?" Angel went over to the couch to get a peek at the work between Draco and Blaise.

"We got some notes off, Nott," Draco nodded over to the brunette. "So we should be good."

"How is it that Theodore managed to finish all his homework and you two didn't?" Romina sat on the couch's armrest where Daphne sat.

"Because I'm clearly the superior one in this group," Theodore said with a clean smile on his face, causing an uproar of indignation from the rest of the group.

They all quieted down as Pansy emerged from the hallway with Millicent at her side, both girls holding a pile of papers in their hands and hollering for everyone's attention.

"We thought all students should get a reminder of who we have sleeping with us!" Pansy announced, waving one of the papers - which turned out to be a photograph - in the air.

"Can you keep it down!?" Arden was the first to shout back.

Pansy pointed her wand at Arden, and just when Romina thought Pansy would attack her with a spell, Pansy shot forwards one of the photographs with her so that it would smack Arden on the face. With a smirk, Pansy went back to her announcement. "I just thought you should all know what's got our dearest Romina in such a foul mood lately."

Romina paused at that, eyeing Pansy with suspicion.

"Hey…" she heard Arden saying. The girl peeled off the photograph from her eyes and examined the photograph. "Wow...hey, she kinda looks like…" Her eyes widened and quickly found Romina.

Romina's heart began to race as more murmurs started around the common room. Those who had the photographs were whispering and looking at her. "No…" she slowly got up from the couch's arm rest and looked to see Pansy and Millicent distributing more photographs. "Pansy, what did you do?"

Pansy came by their group and handed out more photographs.

"Hey, I know them," Angel said after looking at his copy of the photograph.

Even Draco's eyes had widened. He straightened up on the couch, eyes glued to the photograph. Pansy slipped a photograph on Theodore's book, forcing the latter to stop reading and look at it.

Angel still hadn't caught up yet, but the others were beginning to. "That woman kinda looks like—"

"Shut up, Paes," Draco said without thinking then snatched the photograph from Angel's hands. He did the same with Blaise's but it was too late for the others.

"Romina's parents," Carolinha slowly looked to Romina with a saddened face.

Romina felt all eyes landing on her, the room even feeling like it was shrinking. "I-I — why'd you do this!?" she rounded on Pansy, her eyes filling with tears. "Why would you do this!? How did you - why!?"

Pansy's smirk widened seeing her work gone so well. "I just thought we should all get a glimpse of the famous Oswells who helped the Dark Lord murder Potter's parents."

"You had no right!" Romina's voice shook.

Arden didn't know a lot about Romina's parents, but even she knew those two people were one of you-know-who's closest followers. Romina carried that shame with her - even if it didn't fall on her - every day, and here was Pansy showcasing it to the entire House. "Parkinson, you've finally taken it too far!" Arden jumped to her feet, letting her comic fall to the floor.

Pansy rolled her eyes at the girl. "Sit your ass down mudblood, this doesn't encumber you!"

Arden angrily whipped out her wand from her boot and pointed it at Pansy. "Stupefy!" Before Pansy knew it, her entire body was knocked backwards without the ability to move.

But even then, it was too late. Everyone else in the common room had made the connections and were whispering and murmuring about Romina, pointing and looking at her. Romina breathed in and out hard, tears blurring her vision.

"Romina!" Angel called after the girl as well, but Romina had already ran into the corridors.

The damage was done.

#ocappreciation #ochub #fd: harry potter #harry potter #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fics #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x oc #harry potter fics #harry potter imagines #harry potter ocs #hp #hp fics #hp imagines #oc: romina oswell #fic: legacies

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lilxberry · 3 years

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Cap Doesn’t Like Bullies - Steve Rogers

Synopsis;

Your daughter meets her biggest hero to which you’re completely oblivious to the fact during the entire encounter. Her confidence certainly didn’t waver like you had expected it would of a child meeting someone such as Captain America.

Bruh I’m in love with him. LOOK AT HIS FACE!

Warnings: FLUFF! Rude ass stranger. A lil bit o’ language. A sassy child.

Words: 3,305

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader (female reader) (single mom!reader)

(A/N: I named the daughter Kira but you can happily change it. It’s just a name I can easily associate with a child for some reason lmao.)

(A/N 2: I fixed as many mistakes I could find and hopefully, it’ll be more bearable to read lmao.)

Chapter 2 >

_______________

“Mommy,” Kira, your little girl whined.

“Yes baby?” You swung your conjoined hands widely causing her to giggle which in turn, made you smile.

“Can we go to the park today?” Her Captain America backpack bounced on her shoulders with each step. The mostly blue bag clashed yet also complimented the very pink, puffy coat that she wore.

You looked down at her with a raised eyebrow as you watched her for a reaction. “Really? In this weather?”

Kira threw her head back and groaned before exasperatingly replying as if it were the most obvious thing she could have ever spoken. “YES! If we’re at the park, I’ll want to run around and running around will keep me warm. It’s always cold at home but you won’t let me run around.”

A smart little drama queen.

You desperately tried to hide your amusement because you know if she senses that you hadn’t taken her seriously, even more dramatics would be added. “That’s because we can’t run around inside. We might-“

“We might break something. I KNOW! Ugh…” Her feet drag slightly as she walks. She huffs and lowers her head, watching her feet as you move along the sidewalk. You smirk ever so slightly as you watch the top of her head which adorned a woolly hat in an attempt to keep her warm in the season of winter.

“We can go to the park-“ She perked up instantly with a gasp, looking up at you with wide, hopeful eyes. “ONLY, and only, if we can get burgers, too.”

She pauses her steps and looks up at you with a stern, serious expression as she thrusts her hand forward, prompting you to take a hold of it. “You’ve got yourself a deal!” Kira shook your hand firmly and rapidly before she began to pull you along in the direction of the park that was honestly too cold to be sat in.

You huffed a chuckle as you allowed your 6 year old to pull you along the pavements and closer to the large open space of the park.

_______________

The inside of the small Brooklyn burger joint was certainly warmer than the harsh weather that lashed at your face and every inch of exposed skin at the park. Your daughters face matched her coat in colour by the time you reached the building.

Waiting in line, your daughter wormed her hands out of the sparkly knitted gloves, stuffing them in her coat pocket before tearing her hat off of her head and stuffing that in the other available pocket. You chuckled as she tried to brush the mess of locks down with her hands and the cheesy grin she flashed you only made your laugh more.

The missing baby tooth at the forefront of her mouth adding a funny effect to the adorable face you had the tendency to squish between your hands tenderly.

The person in front of the two of you had just finished ordering and just as you were about to step forward with your daughter at your side, someone had rudely pushed in front of you, effectively cutting you off.

You scoffed at the sheer audacity this man had in believing he could cut the line, but it was your daughter who spoke up. Sometimes you cursed yourself for teaching her to stand up for herself in situations as these. You forget your daughter has a vote of confidence like no other and will speak her mind, even if the person is nearly 4 times her height.

Of course, these lessons were meant for her to deal with people her size and age, fellow students who bully her or others, seeing as she’s only 6, not for grown ass adult males.

“Cutting is rude. You should wait in line like everybody else mister.” You heard the pissed tone she spoke with and couldn’t decide whether to find it adorable, humorous, or concerning.

You heard the man scoff and honestly, your blood began to boil. He turned towards the two of you and looked you up and down as if scrutinising you before peering down at your daughter with disinterest.

“I’m ordering for one, you’re ordering for two. I haven’t got time to wait for mama bear to order with her equally scruffy little cub.” He rolled his eyes and looked towards the employee who honestly, looked just about as pissed as you did.

You clenched your fist and took a deep breath in the hopes of calming down. Honestly, it hadn’t worked well. “If you’d asked nicely, we would have happily let you order before us. There isn’t any need to be rude, especially to my kid.”

He heaved a deep sigh before turning to look at the two of you once more. He opened his mouth to no doubt retort back with yet another rude remark but someone elses’ voice swiftly cut him off. “I believe you should listen to the young lady and wait your turn like everybody else.”

The stranger, mighty handsome stranger you might add, with beautiful blue eyes and blonde hair smiled down at your daughter and sent her a discreet wink. She beamed up at the tall stranger as he turned to look towards the man who had rudely cut you off in line, his features hardening.

“You should apologise and move yourself to the back of the line. What you’ve said was unacceptable and certainly no way to speak to a woman and her child.” He folded his arms over his chest, his muscles, even though hidden behind the material of his long sleeves, bulged with incredible size.

The man that had cut the line looked up at your saviour and gulped but relatively kept his features schooled. “No chance. I only said what’s true. Why should I be punished because of that?”

The stranger chuckled humourlessly as he stepped forward, the incredibly rude man taking a step back out of fear. “Whether what you said was true or false, which was absolutely false, doesn’t matter. You disrespected another in not only speaking to them as if they’re below you, but by simply cutting in line in the first place.”

“Yeah. You’re just a bully. Bullies are rude and always cut in line,” your daughter chirped with pride. The stranger smiled down at your daughter and nodded his head.

“That’s right, sweetie.”

The man scoffed before turning towards the employee stood behind the counter. “Are you really going to let him speak to a paying customer like that?” he asked incredulously.

The employee had a smirk cross her lips and she popped her hip out before folding her arms in front of her. “You haven’t paid for anything. Now, please leave before I get my manager to call the cops to have you removed.”

The man huffed indignantly before grumbling and stomping pass the handsome stranger, shoulder checking him on the way. The stranger rolled his eyes before catching a hold of the mans’ arm and pulling him back slightly. “You still haven’t apologised.”

“Sorry.” His tone was fake and nothing but sarcastic but nonetheless, the stranger released him, probably knowing that was the best apology they should expect from him.

The small interior of the place slowly bustled back to its quiet chatter of the few customers inside. The stranger smiled down towards the two of you and you couldn’t help but be enraptured with how perfect his smile was.

“Are you ladies alright?”

Your daughter rapidly nodded her head, grinning widely once more. “Sure are mister. Thank you!”

You cleared your throat, shaking yourself out of your reverie and smiling up at him. ‘Stop gawking at him, idiot!’

“Uh, yes. Thank you.”

His smile seemed to widen, and he looked quite bashful and oh god, your stomach did flips when looking at him. “It’s nothing, ma’am. I don’t tolerate bullies, I suppose.”

Kira gasped and her eyes lit up. “Like Captain America! The Cap doesn’t like bullies, either!”

The stranger chuckled and lowered himself to your daughters’ height. “Yep, like Captain America.” Honestly, he seemed almost pleased at the connection, but you couldn’t place why. Although, if you were say compared to someone like Black Widow, you certainly would feel chuffed yourself, so you couldn’t blame him.

You failed to realise you were staring at the stranger, again, until you felt a small tug on your arm. You snapped yourself out of small daydream to look down at your daughter. “Ask him if he wants to join us,” she whispered although by the huff of laughter that he tried, and failed, to supress, he clearly heard.

“Uh, yeah. Would you like to join us…?” You trailed off, hoping the stranger would give you his name. He seemed to pick up on his lack of introduction as he stood to his full height, once again towering over you.

He held his hand out before him for you to take, which you did. “Steve.”

“Well, would you like to join us, Steve? We’d like to thank you for standing up to that rude man and pay for your meal if you haven’t eaten yet.”

“Well, that’s a really nice offer…” Now it was his turn to trail off.

“Y/N!” your daughter exclaimed loudly. “And I’m Kira!”

He chuckled. “Y/N. And Kira. But I was actually going to offer to pay for your meals.”

“Oh, no. That’s oka-“

“Thank you, Steve!”

You looked down at your daughter with wide eyes as she cut you off and accepted the strangers’ offer. Steve chuckled and glanced down at Kira. “Very well. Should we order then?”

Kira grasped your hand in her smaller one and pulled you to the front of the counter, beckoning Steve to follow. You couldn’t help but shake your head, feeling only ever so slightly embarrassed by your daughters’ antics.

_______________

You daughter was enthralled with whatever came out of Steves’ mouth; completely enraptured with the stories he told. Though, you couldn’t really blame her.

Kira wasn’t one to shy away from conversation, but it had honestly shocked you how versed she became in conversation with the man the two of you had only met 45 minutes prior.

Yes. 45 minutes.

It seemed none of you really wanted to part ways; all enjoying yourselves with flowing conversation and shared smiles.

“So,” Steve started, his arms resting on top of the table that sat between him and you and Kira. “You mentioned Captain America earlier, and you have him on your backpack. Do you like him?”

“Yeah! He’s my favourite hero!” Gosh did she get excited over the topic of heroes.

He chuckled. “And why’s that?”

You rolled your eyes knowing what was coming yet couldn’t stop the fond smile growing on your face. “Well, he’s super cool. He’s brave, kind, strong and he doesn’t like bullies. I don’t like bullies either.” Then, a devilish smile broke out on her small, rounded face. “Mommy likes him too. She thinks he’s pretty. AND SHE HASN’T EVEN SEEN HIS FACE PROPERLY! She’s seen his butt though, looks at it a lot.”

Your eyes widened and the smile was promptly wiped from your face whilst Steve seemingly choked on his spit and laughed nervously. “I think she’s in love with him,” Kira whispered, further embarrassing you.

“OKAY! That’s enough, ha…”

Steve smiled, albeit sheepishly, towards the two of you. “Well, I believe Captain America would think your moms’ pretty, too.”

Kira shrug, shovelling a cold, left over fry from the basket into her mouth. “I know.”

You groaned softly and hid your face behind your hand, slumping in your seat. Your whole face felt hot. Trying to calm your racing heart, you peered at Kira. “Why don’t you tell him about your birthday sweetie?”

“OH YEAH! Mommies taking me to the Captain America display!” Kira bounced in her seat and if her eyes hadn’t already twinkled with excitement, they certainly did now after she’s formulated a plan quickly in her mind. “You should definitely come, mister.”

You and Steve both spluttered at her invitation.

“Oh honey, I don’t think Steve would-“

“W-well, it’s not up to me-“

Kira groaned and rolled her eyes overdramatically before looking at Steve. “Yep. It’s up to me.” She then turned towards you. “And, we can just ask Steve if he would like to.” To which she faced Steve once more, looking at him intently. “Would you like to come too?”

Steve looked extremely apprehensive to answer and looked towards you in the hopes of getting some guidance in what to say. If he were being honest, this past hour he’d felt nothing but calm and happy, forgetting his worries and has actually taken a break from all the responsibilities he’s been handed.

He very much liked both yourself and Kira, feeling content in both of your presences’ and would very much like if he continued to get to know both yourself and Kira more. He just certainly didn’t want to overstep.

He internally cheered for himself when you nodded your head discreetly. Your face told him that the young girl who looked extremely hopeful would certainly not cease until she succeeded in getting what she wanted in this moment.

“Uh…” He turned his gaze towards Kira once more gave her a small smile. “I would love to go to the Captain America display for your birthday.”

Kira cheered loudly and you shook your head with an adoring smile directed to the young girl sat beside you. “Great! You should give your number to my mommy so we can plan it properly.” She sipped on her half-drunken refill of milkshake after speaking so nonchalantly.

Both Steve and yourself felt and looked dumbfounded. Had she really just said that?

Steve chuckled before his eyes darted down towards your phone which was sat face down atop the table. “May I?”

“Oh, uh, yep.” You fumbled with picking your phone up, unlocking it and opening up a new contact before handing your phone over to Steve, face burning and a shy smile adorning your features. Your hands brushed against one another as he carefully took the phone from your hold and typed in his full name and phone number.

He was just about to hand it back to you when Kira swiftly took it and looked at the screen. She shook her head before looking up at Steve. “You gotta add a picture, silly.” She raised the phone after tapping the picture icon atop the contact, pointing it straight at Steve.

The poor man panicked and smiled quite awkwardly as your daughter snapped the photo. You slapped a hand over your mouth to try desperately hide your laugh, which hadn’t really been that successful.

Kira observed the picture on the screen before nodding; she clearly found the picture acceptable for use. Steve couldn’t help but also find it quite amusing and chuckled himself. Your daughter swiftly handed you your phone back but once in your hand, you had spotted the time and your eyes slightly widened.

“Oh wow, is it really that late?” you questioned yourself but prompted Steve to check the time himself by looking down at his watch. You looked up towards him with an apologetic smile and shrugged your shoulders. “Sorry, we really should get going. Kira has school in the morning.”

Steve shook his head and smiled, unbothered by your information. “No, no, it’s perfectly fine. I completely understand.”

“Thank you, and sorry again.” You looked sheepish as you stood and put your own jacket back on before beckoning Kira to stand herself. She pouted but did as she was told, allowing you to help her with her coat, to which she then put her hat back on top her head and gloves back on her small hands.

Steve stood and cleared his throat as he stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do. You looked up away from Kira and sent him the most beautiful smile he had ever seen upon someone’s face and miraculously, he felt a lot let nervous.

“Thank you for the wonderful company and the meal,” you spoke with such sincerity that made his heart thump louder and harder than any life threating mission ever could.

“And for standing up to that bully for us,” Kira added.

You huffed laugh. “Yes, and that.”

“It’s my pleasure.” He nodded his head.

Kira stepped forward which prompted Steve to lower himself to her height just as he had done so earlier. “It was nice meeting you.”

“It was nice meeting you too, ma’am.”

She beamed up at him before sticking her hand out and her expression was nothing but serious, one which Steve copied as he took her hand and shook it. “My mommy will text you later about my birthday.” She withdrew her hand before her big, bright smile reappeared. She grasped your hand in hers and waved as she began to pull you out of the burger joint.

“Bye Captain America!”

Your eyes bulged out of their sockets comically and you did nothing but splutter, opening and closing your mouth in the hopes that some words would pass out of you as your daughter pulled you out through the doors and in the direction of your small Brooklyn apartment.

Steve froze and watched wide eyed as you both left through the door, the bell atop jingling when it closed behind you. “Huh. Smart kid.” He shook his head before laughing and standing, collecting his jacket and leaving a tip on the table before slowly exiting the building himself, walking towards his bike ready to head back to the tower, completely dazed and the image of you ingrained into his mind.

Meanwhile, you finally snapped out of your shocked and flustered state halfway down the sidewalk. “YOU KNEW THAT WAS CAPTAIN AMERICA?!”

“Yep,” your daughter replied, popping the ‘P’ and acting completely nonchalant about the whole ordeal.

“AND YOU TOLD HIM I LIKE HIS BUTT?!”

“Yep.”

You narrowed your eyes at the small figure of your daughter. “You little monster.” You swept her up into your arms and began to blow raspberries against her chubby little cheek, causing her to burst into a fit of giggles and loud laughter.

You couldn’t help but laugh along with her and then Steves’ earlier comment came to the forefront of your mind. ‘Captain America thinks I’m pretty! HOLY SHIT!’

You’d dwell on that later though.

“MY MOMMY LIKES CAPTAIN AMERICAS’ BUTT!” Kira shouted as she continued to gasp out giggles and you couldn’t help but laugh and indulge in her silly behaviour.

“I LIKE CAPTAIN AMERICAS’ BUTT!”

Kira roared in laughter once more along with you, and you both continued to find an abundance of humour in the situation the entire walk home.

_______________

“Hey punk,” Bucky spoke as he entered the main, spacious shared living room and spotted Steve sat on the couch, staring at his phone and smiling widely as his eyes scan over the words you had texted him.

“What’s got you grinning like that?” Bucky playfully quipped, a small smirk across his lips.

“Uh, nothing.” It could have been convincing if Steve had looked away from his phone and his already large smile didn’t widen further.

“Sure. Nothing.” Bucky shakes his head and sits beside his friend. “She pretty?”

Usually, Steve would question what made his friend think it was a woman, but he was so dazed and giddy, he couldn’t find it in him to deny it. “She’s so beautiful Buck.”

“Gotta date?”

“Not yet.”

Bucky chuckled and slapped his friends’ shoulder in good nature as he shook his head. “Well, good luck, punk. I hope you get that date.” Bucky stood and huffed a laugh at Steve still grinning at his phone as he left to head towards the kitchen, missing Steves’ mumbled response.

“Me too.”

_______________

Gosh dang do I love this man

That is all

If you want to be added to a taglist lemme know

Anywho, I hope you enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

_______________

Marvel taglist:

@thanossexual @iwazoomingouttahere @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

454 notes · View notes

tacticaldiary · 3 years

Note

Having a relationship w/ Oikawa based on a bet and the gf heard it when the seijoh 4 talked about it making oikawa panicked when he knows his gf heard it.. ahh angst to fluff? Hehe thank youuuu

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

This was fun to write. :)

Betting on You

Pairing: Reader x Oikawa Tooru

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, a lil fluff

He couldn’t lose her, anyone but her. He shouldn’t have accepted the bet. Needless to say, Oikawa Tooru has a lot of regrets right now. Opening up and being vulnerable to his partner was thankfully not one of them, even if it had ended up with them crying in each others arms.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mumbling incoherently, Y/N reaches out next to her in the bed, trying to find the warm body that usually occupied the space next her. Frowning when she feels only the bedsheets, she opens her eyes and squints. There’s no one next to her.

“Tooru?” she mutters softly, yawning and sitting up. He was always there, clinging to her, holding her close. Strange. She decides to wait for him, wanting his warmth to fall asleep with. The guy was like a living heater, which was useful during cold winter nights like this one.

Twenty minutes pass and he still doesn’t come back. Furrowing her eyebrows, Y/N sighs and pulls herself to the edge of the bed, slipping on a pair of slippers. She shivers a little when the cold air hits her skin, but continues slowly towards the door to their shared bedroom. Opening it with a quiet creak, she immediately hears voices. A little confused, she quietly keeps walking, stopping at the doorway to the living room.

She tilts her head in confusion when she sees Tooru laying on the couch, tapping away at his phone. It appears he’s on a voice call on speaker.

“Almost three months.”

“Honestly, none of us expected you to last this long.”

Her eyes widen as she hears familiar voices. Matsukawa and Hanamaki?

“You’re still keeping him to that?” Iwaizumi? What were they doing this late at night? The clock on the wall tells her it’s 2 in the morning.

“Obviously. I thought the money was pretty much guaranteed.”

“Can you blame us? He’s never kept someone around for more than a month.”

“Shut up.” Tooru's quiet voice reaches her ears. What money? What was going on?

“You’re not going to win.” comes Iwaizumi’s annoyed voice. “It’s Y/N.”

“Yeah, but before her it was also Mika-Chan and Yui-Chan and Hina-Chan and Aiko-Chan and-”

“Alright, I get it. Iwa-Chan’s the only one who’s on my side.” he pouts, cutting off Hanamaki’s annoying high-pitched imitation of him.

“We still don’t know why. You’re obviously going to lose the bet. It’s inevitable.” Matsukawa claim confidently

...Bet?

“I’ll win in a few days, if you haven’t noticed. Nothing’s gonna happen in a few days.” Tooru rolls his eyes.

“And then you’ll dump her?”

Y/N suddenly feels cold, and it has nothing to do with the weather. Dump her? Bet? WHat was going on? Her mind was racing. Tooru hadn’t indicated that he was unhappy, or wanted to break up. He was always telling her how much he loved her. Was he lying? She felt a little sick at the thought.

“Yeah, the bet was to keep someone around for more than three months. You’ll be done in a few days. What’re you gonna do then?”

What?

“A bet?” she says aloud, her voice hollow with shock.

Tooru jumps and drops his phone, quickly turning around to see his girlfriend looking at him in horror.

“Y-Y/N-Chan...” he scrambles to his feet and ends the call, wondering how much she had heard. “I thought you were asleep?” he quickly moves towards her, reaching out to touch her shoulder. He freezes when she backs away, shaking her head in disbelief.

“A bet, Tooru? A bet?”

“What-? Wait, Y/N...it’s not what you think-”

“Keep me around? You were dating me for a...bet?” her voice starts shaking a little, as she remembers how mere hours ago, he was holding her, assuring her how much he loved her.

“No! I-”

“Am I a game to you? A bet? Are you fucking kidding me?” She nearly laughs, because of course he would only date her for a bet. Of course.

He frantically shakes his head, reaching out for her again, but thinking better of it when he glares at him with eyes full of unshed tears. His eyes widened. This wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. “Y/N-Chan, listen to me, please, let me explain.” he sounds panicked.

She clenches her jaw. “I should have seen this coming. Of course the Oikawa Tooru wouldn’t go out with someone like me.” She lets out a bitter chuckle at his stunned expression. Before he can interrupt, she pushes on. “Why would you, when you have girls, so much more perfect than me, throwing themselves at your feet all the time?”

“Y/N-” he’s trying desperately to get a word in, wincing when she raises her voice to overpower his.

“Mika-Chan and Yui-Chan and Hina-Chan.” she imitates, recalling the phone call. Tears she’s tried to keep at bay finally start trickling down and Oikawa’s heart twists painfully, knowing that he was the one who caused it. “Obviously, the only reason you’d consider me was because of a bet, a fucking bet, Tooru.” she cries out angrily.

“Y/N-Chan, listen to me.” he says seriously, grabbing her shoulder and looking her in the eyes. “I love you. I’ve loved you since the beginning. The bet means nothing to me.”

Her next word feel like a punch to the gut.

“Bullshit.” she whispers, before repeating herself louder. “Utter bullshit. You never loved me.”

“I did, I do!” he insists.

“If you did, it wouldn’t have taken a bet for you to ask me out!” she roughly shoves his hands off her. Taking a deep breath, forcing herself to ignore his hurt look. “It’s my fault too, isn’t it? I should’ve known better than to accept dating the Oikawa Tooru, the school heartthrob, notorious for playing around.” her words are laced with venom and self-pity. “There’s always gonna be someone better. Someone prettier, skinner, funnier. I was stupid for thinking you would ever fall for me.” All her insecurities come spilling out, accumulated from months of dating him, enduring the comments whispered under the breath by jealous students, girls openly flirting with her boyfriend. She was stupid to think she would ever be enough.

Pushing past him, wiping her sleeves across her eyes, she storms back into the bedroom, Oikawa at her heels behind her. She grabs her pillow and a blanket, turning back around and moving to the couch in the living room. She does her best to ignore her boyfriend's desperate attempts to gain her attention, begging her to give him a chance to explain. She sets up the items and lays on the couch, pulling the blanket to her chin and turning to face the back of the couch.

She refused to sleep anywhere near him. When he doesn’t stop talking she says coldly:

“Leave me alone. I want nothing to do with you.”

“No.”

She pauses. “No?”

“Not until you hear me out.” He crosses his arms.

“I’ve heard enough.”

“It’s a misunderstanding. If you’d just let me explain-”

“I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow.”

He was dreading that. He really does love her, so fucking much. He doesn't want to lose her.

“Y/N-”

“I’m going to sleep.” She had never spoken to him in that tone before.

She hears a sigh after a few moments of silence, in which he realises that she was going to be stubborn till the end. Y/N hears him walk away and she buries her face in the blanket, silently crying to herself. She freezes when she hears the bedroom door close with a ‘click’ and footsteps approaching her. She turns around a little, to see Oikawa sitting at the foot of the couch with his own blanket and pillow. He doesn’t look at her, focusing on fluffing his pillow and pulling his thicker, warmer quilt over himself. He was equally as stubborn and wasn’t going to leave her alone like this.

She scoffs and settles back down again, still crying. If he notices, he doesn’t comment on it. The two lay in silence for a good thirty minutes. Y/N had stopped crying, but was still awake because how the hell was she supposed to fall asleep after what she had learnt?

She’s startled when she suddenly hears Oikawa’s soft voice. “I love you, you know? I really do. Ever since I saw you in Chemistry last year. You caught my eye so quickly, and I flirted with you for weeks before you got the hint.” he laughs breathily. “You didn’t want my attention like everyone else, and I was curious. It felt different to be the one trying to get someone else’s attention.” he takes a deep breath, and she realises with a start that she’s never heard him this vulnerable. He probably thinks she’s asleep.

“I was planning to ask you out before and I told the others and they laughed at me.” he frowns at the memory. “The assholes thought I was kidding, that I wasn’t serious. Iwa-Chan was the only one who took it seriously. I don’t blame them, cause I’d only ever dated for fun before.” He breathes in deeply again, steadying his voice and Y/N’s eyes widen when she realizes he’s holding back tears.

“So when they bet that I couldn't last more than 3 months with you, I agreed, but only because I was going to ask you out anyway, and I intended on staying as long as I could. As long as you’d let me stay by your side.” He lets out a sad, watery chuckle, and Y/N feels her stomach drop. She never wanted to hear that sound from him again.

“I...shit, I don’t want to lose you. I can’t. You’re the only one for me. I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you.” A strangled, muffled sob, reaches her ears, and it takes all of her willpower to remain still.

“I’m serious about you...about us. You’re not a game, you never were. I just wanted to be with you. I want to be able to hold you again.” another muffled cry, as he buries his face in his hands. He’d never willingly let anyone see himself like this, not even Y/N. He was glad she was asleep.

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, princess.” he stays where he is, sitting up leaning back on the couch, calming himself down, letting out soft hiccups every now and then.

Y/N is wide awake, thinking over his words. They had to be genuine, right? He had no idea she was awake. He had sounded so...real and vulnerable, nothing like the strong façade he usually put up in front of others. Taking her chances, she discreetly moves, eyes widening when she sees the state he’s in.

One of his hands is over his mouth, muffling his small sobs, Y/N wants to cry as she realises it’s probably so he doesn’t wake her up. His other hand is clenched tightly in his brown hair, his knees drawn to his chest. His face was blotchy and red and wet with tears. She’s never seen him like this. She moves and he doesn’t notice.

Sitting directly behind him, she gently grabs the hand in his hair, to which he nearly jumps out of his skin. Y/N would usually laugh at the reaction, if not for the way he was looking up at her. She eases his hand out of his hair and holds it, tugging him up to the couch. He hesitates, before climbing up, sitting on the cushion next to her.

“You-” his voice wavers, and he tries again. “You were awake?”

She nods, glancing at their connected hands, before staring at the ground. She hears his sharply take in a breath.

“Y/N...love, I meant it. I meant every word, I swear.”

“We’ll talk tomorrow.” she mumbles, tugging on his hand again, until they're both laying on the couch. She reaches over and grabs Oikawa’s quilt and pulls it on the two of them. She relaxes against him when his arms automatically wind around her waist and he buries his face in her hair, pressing small kisses on her. Each was an unspoken apology.

She knows he’s crying when she feels the tears hit her skin.

He knows she’s crying when he can feel her shaky, irregular breaths.

They lay there, eventually falling asleep clutching each other tightly, both of them hurting on the inside. They would have to have a serious talk tomorrow, but both had a blooming hope that they would pull through.

Requests are open and Welcome. Thanks for reading!

3K notes · View notes

d0llpie · 3 years

Note

HOOOOLY HECK HI YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN YES uh okay s o. if I remember correctly I saw a work by you about chubby! reader which is what I've been looking for!!! I was wondering if you could do 46, 42, 39, and 41-based hc's for seijoh 4 by any chance? or Matsukawa (i haven't seen any x chubby!reader works for matsuwukawa and it drives me insa n e) and/or any of the seijoh 4 you prefer to write for most? thank you so much!!!!! <3

Seijoh Four, chubby reader scenarios

Oikawa x reader, Iwaizumi x reader, Matsukawa x reader, Hanamaki x reader

content warnings: suggestive nsfw for iwaizumi, food mentions + feeling guilty, very very slight assault, swearing

Prompt: “You don’t think i can pick you up?” “I don’t think i could love you any more than i already do” “I hate seeing you cry” “Don’t fucking touch them”

a/n: Hii love ! Thank you for the request ! i did one prompt for each boy so they have very different scenarios, hope you enjoy <333

wc: 2.7k

Oikawa “I don’t think i could love you anymore than i already do”

- Dating Oikawa required you to be pretty secure and confident

- He was the great king, known for his looks and admired by many fans, many of who you thought were prettier than you

- You never brought this up with him, he was always so strong, a confident leader, it’s why you loved him

- You also knew he overworked himself and that you and Iwaizumi were the only ones able to make him take a break

- You didnt need to stress him over silly things like your inferiority

- He loved you and you never doubted that, still, you couldn’t help but grow quiet as you were pushed away from the team by a swarm of pretty, thin, perfect fangirls who came to congratulate your boyfriend

- “Oi Shittykawa we have to pack up” Iwa noticed you seemingly growing smaller, fiddling with your hands as you stared at the girls surrounding him

- “Iwa-chan you’re so impatient, where’s y/n?” you looked up and tapped his shoulder from behind him, earning many glares from his fangirls

- “Ah there she is!” he cradled your face and gave you a peck on the lips before taking your hand in his, his fangirls scoffed but if he noticed he didn’t react

- You on the other hand just wanted to go home, usually you were good enough at fighting off these thoughts but today you just couldn’t shake them

- “Tooru, can we go?” you tugged on his sleeve and he turned to you before wincing slightly “Tooru where are your knee pads!” you scolded him

- “Ahaha sorry girls, i have to go know, thank you for your support, i appreciate it very much!” the group whined and shot you glares, blaming you for his early leave

- “Iwa, his knee is busted can you help” you slipped his arm around your shoulder and waiting for Iwa to take the other side

- “y/n-chan please, i don’t need help” you glared at him and he shut up, Iwa took his other side and you started to walk

- You were so caught up in your thoughts of insecurity and worry for Oikawa that you didn’t hear him ask you a question

- “y/n-channn why are you ignoring me, i’m sorry, i swear i’ll rest all day tomorrow” you looked over to him “i’m sorry baby what did you say?” he frowned before making you stop walking

- “i asked what was wrong, you’re really quiet” you smiled up at him “oh it’s nothing baby, how is your knee?” he huffed out in frustration, he hated when you did this, knowing you hated when he did it too

- “y/n. don’t do that, talk to me” you sighed “it’s dumb” you fiddled with the ends of your hoodie, pulling it out to make it appear looser

- “If you’re insecure right now i’m gonna kick ur ass with my broken knee :(“ you giggled at him lightly before smacking him “i know i told you it was dumb..”

- He frowned again “baby, you always make me talk about what’s really going on, i need you to do the same so i can help you..” he was right.. “It’s just, i don’t know, your fangirls today were staring at me a lot and they’re all so skinny and pretty and i just-it went to my head”

- He pouted before cupping both your cheeks “i don’t think i could ever love you more than i already do.. You have no idea how often i think i’m not enough for you baby, but you’re so much more than enough for me j couldn’t possibly be with anyone else, no one could treat me the way you do, you’re perfect in my eyes”

- A stray tear fell down onto his thumb as he swiped it away “Kawa of course you’re enough! You’re so talented and perfect, you always communicate with me and put effort into everything you do i’m so proud of you, please don’t doubt yourself!” he laughed at your scolding “how can you be so blind”

- You smiled at him as he pressed his lips against yours, pulling you against his body as he deepened the kiss “oi shitheads! hurry up!” You broke apart to see Iwaizumi ahead of you both waiting impatiently

- You laughed before taking his hand and continuing to walk, squeezing his hand lightly

Iwaizumi “i hate seeing you cry”

- You felt so guilty, you had just eaten what you thought was way too much cake and were now crying in front of the mirror

- You couldnt seem to find anything about yourself attractive, everytime you saw your reflection your eyes zeroed in on your flaws

- You grabbed at your stomach, your sides, everywhere you could while looking into the mirror with red puffy eyes

- Iwaizumis footsteps could be heard approaching your room, you quickly turned around and threw on one of his hoodies, trying to find some pants

- He opened the door to see you in his hoodie and some panties and immediately smirked “hi baby, what’re trying to do?” you shot up and slowly turned to face him, tugging the hoodie down as far as you could

- His smile dropped when he saw your tear stained cheeks and red eyes “y/n? what happened baby cmere” he pulled you into his chest, rubbing up and down your back before bringing you to the bed to sit on him

- You tried to speak but your eyes welled up with tears again “Haji, i need to get some pants..” you whispered, afraid your voice would crack if you spoke any louder and he felt his heart sink

- “Hey hey, tell me what happened” he smoothed your hair down before kissing your forehead, resting his hands on your hips

- he squeezed your hips reassuringly, a habit of his, but you tensed up. He put two and two together and sighed “i hate seeing you cry”

- “i just- don’t you want me to lose weight?” you looked up at him, wiping your tears on the ends of his hoodie while he gripped your hips harder

- “what the fuck are you talking about” he grunted before moving his hands to your ass “i love your body, i love all of you and i intend to spend the rest of my life reminding you how much i love you.” you smiled tearily at him and he kissed you firmly

- he began smoothing his hands over your ass and you chuckled at him “what’re you doing Haji?” “oh c’mon, you look so beautiful in my hoodie what do you expect, you’re always so beautiful..” he kissed you again, rougher this time before leaning back to throw his shirt off

- “I’m going to prove to you just how attractive i find you okay?” you nodded, he gripped the ends of his hoodie, trying to pull it off you but you held it down “wait-“ you looked into your lap, he sighed softly lifting your chin with his thumb and forefinger “if you don’t want to that’s okay baby, but if you don’t want me to see you because you’re insecure i’m going to have to beat you up for thinking badly about the love of my life.”

- You chuckled before kissing him again, letting him take off the hoodie “i love you haji..” “i love you too baby”

Matsukawa “don’t fucking touch them”

- You were out at a bar with Issei and Hanamaki, it had been a while since you’d hung out with your boyfriends best friend and you were all free after work and decided to grab drinks

- Since you’d been there, Issei had had a strong grip around your waist, making you sit on top of him and gripping your thighs every chance he got

- He only got like this when he was jealous but you don’t know why he’s been acting this way in front of Hanamaki

- You were talking to Hanamaki about an angry customer at work when Isseis hold around your middle tightened “baby i’m going to the bathroom you’re trying to squeeze the alcohol out of me” you chuckled getting off his lap and giving him a kiss on the cheek

- “be safe” you nodded before heading to the bathroom, wondering why he was acting so strange, you couldn’t tell but someone across the bar had been eyeing you up since you came in

- You were walking back out when someone stopped you in the hallway “hi pretty/handsome” the man reeked of strong liquor and you tried to push past them but he caged you against the wall

- “it’s rude to ignore people, didnt nobody ever teach you any manners?” he started to slur, dropping his hand down to your body “Isse-“ you were cut off by his other hand covering your mouth

- You shoved him off of you, he looked angry, he was about to storm back towards you when a fist connected with his face, knocking him back into the wall behind him “don’t fucking touch them.”

- Issei spat at the man before grabbing you and pushing your head into his chest “i wasn’t, i don’t wanna touch a fatass like them anyway” this time it was hanamaki to punch him, knocking him to the ground

- He shook his fist “ah fuck, y/n, you okay?” you nodded, smiling at your friend before looking up at Matsukawa who was looking down at you concerned

- “i’m okay baby, really, thank you” he hummed “i’m never letting you out of my sight again, i knew he was looking at you...you know you’re perfect right? don’t listen to him.” you nodded again, burying your face into his chest

- “i know, let’s just go home mkay? you both need to get some ice on your hands” Issei smiled, kissing the top of your head before taking his jacket off and putting it on you

- After you’d iced hanamakis hand and said your goodbyes you were on the couch with Matsukawa “Issei what’s up baby?” he was scowling at the wall so you sat down beside him

- “i just don’t understand how he had the nerve, i mean what a fucking ass.” you hummed, tracing your fingers over the tattoo on his arm, knowing it calmed him down

- He pulled you into his lap so you were straddling him “you’re okay though right?” you pushed your thing in between his brows to make him stop frowning, “yes baby i’m fine! please stop stressing” you kissed his forehead and he sighed, burying his face in your chest

- “i love you, and your body” he squeezed you tighter into his embrace, mumbling into your chest and you stroked his hair “i love you too Issei, honestly you’re more worked up about this than me, let’s go to bed okay?” he hummed, standing up with your legs wrapped around his waist before carrying your to bed

- He collapsed onto the mattress, on top of you, cuddling back into your chest with your legs tangled as you fell asleep in each others arms.

Hanamaki “you don’t think i can lift you?”

- Hanamaki was on his way home from work, he had texted you many times but you didn’t answer, you were fast asleep on the couch with one of your favourite shows playing in the background

- He tried to call you to see if you wanted him to bring anything home but you still didn’t answer, he was slightly worried so he tried to get home faster

- When he entered the house he called out “y/n? i’m home” he moved further into the house, seeing you fast asleep in the couch and he smiled

- He brushed the hair out of your face before flicking your forehead “dumbass you shouldn’t fall asleep on the couch” you stirred in your sleep but didn’t fully wake up

- He lifted you up, carrying you to the bedroom before putting you under the covers. He went to take a shower hoping you’d wake up by the time he got out

- You woke up in your bed confused, you could’ve sworn you were on the couch, you figured you’d woken up and came to the bed to sleep

- The sound of the shower turning off alerted you to Hanamakis presence and you jumped out of bed “maki? hi love!” you kissed his cheek as he finished drying off his hair “hi, how was ur nap?” you smiled “good, didnt mean to sleep for so long, i haven’t made anything to eat”

- “it’s okay, your food sucks anyway” you stuck out your tongue as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, moving back into the bedroom “you look tired, c’mon i’ll carry you back to the couch while i check the fridge”

- you looked over at him confused before scoffing “yeah right” he looked over at you “what?” you raised your brow at him, gesturing your hands down your body before laughing softly

- He was quite offended to be honest “you don’t think i can lift you?” you looked over at him as if it was obvious before trying to exit the room.

- He ran over and pulled you into a hug from behind “excuse me, who do you think carries your sleepy ass from the couch to bed everytime you fall asleep watching your stupid shows?” you turned around in his hold “i walk?” he scoffed, you were serious?

- without warning he hoisted you up in his hold, smirking proudly at your flustered reaction “what were you saying about my big beefy muscles?” you rolled your eyes, tapping him to let you down, instead he began walked to the kitchen

- “maki put me down!” you tried to get out of his hold which earned you a slap on the ass “shhh, gosh i can’t even be a nice boyfriend!” he whined before putting you down on the couch

- “you’re welcome your highness” he bowed and you giggled “okay okay you can lift me” “hell yeah i can babe, these guns aren’t for show, plus, you’re a lot lighter than you think you are”

- you blushed at his words and he leaned in to kiss you sweetly “alright i’m checking the fridge, you can watch your show again but when i come back we’re watching something else okay?” you nodded before smiling, pulling Makis hoodie up to your nose and inhaling deeply

- You both settled into the couch and ate leftovers for dinner, talking about your days. After you finished you cleaned up before making your way back to the couch to settle in between Hanamakis legs

- You felt your eyelids growing heavy and you snuggled further into his chest before falling asleep. Maki felt your breathing slow and even out, he looked down and smiled at your sleeping face

- “i guess you’re making me do this again?” he sighed before pressing a kiss to your forehead, turning off the tv and slipping an arm under your legs and shoulders

- Once he carried you to bed for the second time that day he slipped under the covers with you, pulling you back into his chest and sighing “goodnight babe”

1K notes · View notes

stutterfly · 3 years

Text

Swipe Right 04 | Patch Notes | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst, humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 15.1K

Last time on SR03: You joined a gym to increase your confidence and things progressed the way you want with your tinder match. You ended up in an unlikely competition with your friends when you went new bar together, leading to some unexpected conversations and shenanigans.

CW & Other Tags: Drinking, anxiety/panic attack mentions, muscle tearing injury mention, fuckboy Jungkook, pining, flirting, pick-up lines, sexual tension, Joonie is still Y/N’s best boi, soft Jungkook

Series: Activate your SIMCard

Fic: Swipe Right (4/?- Ongoing)

Do not repost.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

When’s the last time you felt as good as you do right now? Jungkook has pretty much stopped bothering you since that night at Seesaw, your date with Jason went well, and you’ve been sticking to your early morning workouts. You definitely don’t push yourself as much as trainer Hwasa, and you know you should really take advantage of the free trial, but it was overwhelming to take in so much at once and the session made you sore all over for days.

At least your stamina seems to be improving and you’ve discovered post-workout endorphins are real. Tonight is your second date with Jason, a date you’ve uncharacteristically elected to host at your apartment. You can place some blame on those endorphins for your boldness, with pining and disappointment composing the rest of it.

While your first date ended without a kiss, there was enough flirting to keep you hopeful. Neither of you were brave enough to do anything about it then, but you’ve mentally coached yourself into pretending like you have an unbreakable spine with nerves of steel. Meeting him only solidified your attraction, and you’ve resolved to take the lead, even though you feel like you have no idea what you’re doing.

It’s not like you often make the first move, but your confidence in him to do so has waned. You’ve been talking and playing games together online for months without any physical touch. Despite how he’s said he likes you and wants to see you again, you’d still be waiting if you didn’t suggest today.

You’re determined to show him what he’s missing by being a recluse. That’s why you’ve picked out the sluttiest clothes and the strappiest heels you own, decorated your face with expensive makeup, and even styled your hair instead of just letting it do whatever it wants for the day. You check yourself out in the full-length mirror on your bedroom door for the millionth time and pull down on the hem of your dress like it will somehow magically grow longer.

You don’t need the heels; no part of the night calls for them. You’re going to be sitting on the couch with him. If you’re lucky you’ll even move it to the bedroom you spent so much time cleaning. But they’re cute and they make you feel sexy, so you’re going to keep them on until he’s peeling you out of your dress.

Nerves bubble in your stomach, but you have to pretend like they’re not there or you’ll fixate on how hard you’re trying to be confident and cool. You’ll fall apart when it’s obvious to Jason how hard you’re pretending to be everything you aren’t. Checking your phone doesn’t help; it’s almost time.

Taking a deep breath, you pace through the confines of your apartment as you wait, and answer group texts from Jennie and Namjoon. You offer up a selfie, hoping any compliments will build your confidence enough to stave off the anxiety in your gut. A few devil emojis later, some keysmashing, and more than a couple hamfisted compliments from Namjoon, your ego is adequately inflated but you can always use more hyping. Maybe you should send it to Jimin to fish for more compliments? He’d indulge you for sure.

Instead you flop on the couch and open Tinder. According to Jennie, Jason is stringing you along; it’s been months, but you hate to admit that she has a point. So you don’t. She’s been telling you for a while now that she thinks you should pursue other suitors. While you object to her assumptions, she has more experience with this kind of stuff. It’s not exactly something you want to believe, not when you’ve put in so much effort for literal months.

You want to believe in Jason being awkward and dorky and that’s why it’s taken so long for the two of you to hook up. He’s shy and super introverted, but so are you. So why are you the only one trying to make things happen? You want to believe, but at this point you’re uncertain enough to heed Jennie’s advice and keep swiping any time you find yourself in a situation where you’re waiting on him. Like now.

You have your reservations about swiping while you wait for your date to begin, but you can practically hear Jennie cheering you on. He’s late anyway, and it will keep you busy until he arrives. You open the discovery tab and swipe left on a couple incomplete profiles. Most of the guys on here don’t put in any effort. How are you supposed to want to give any of them a chance when you don’t even get a tiny snapshot of who they are?

When you pass on yet another fish pic profile, a blue frame appears around the next guy in line. It takes a moment for your brain to register the name along with the duck-faced photo as someone familiar.

[Jungkook said: Your legs remind me of oreos 🥴 wanna know why?]

How fucking dare he? You match with the intent to ream him out and leave.

You: I told you not to fucking find me on here

It takes only a few seconds before you see the dots move on his end, like he was waiting for the moment you would answer, and it keeps you tethered to the conversation.

Jungkook: Princess!! I couldn’t help myself how are you

Jungkook: Surprised you didn’t block me

You: Don’t worry I’m gonna

Jungkook: it’s bc you wanna know huh

You: ???

Jungkook: Your legs

Jungkook: Like oreos

Jungkook: I wanna split them n lick the cream from the center 😜

Electricity rumbles in your gut, carrying heat and a surge of excitement to your cunt that threatens to flood your panties. You swallow hard and squeeze your thighs together as you stare at the screen. Embarrassed by the response his antics elicit, you scramble to formulate a coherent thought.

You: I wish I could unread 🤢

Jungkook: Aw but that’s one of my favorites

Jungkook: Just like you 😘

You: 🙄

You: I hate you so much

Jungkook: So much that you matched with me?

You stare at the message like a clever response will come to you and when it doesn’t you bite your lip. He’s got a point. Haven’t you learned your lesson not to encourage him? Your eyes scan the top of your phone for any notifications from Jason. Nothing. At least this is keeping you distracted. That’s what you tell yourself.

Jungkook: You’re still here which means 👀

You: It means I’m tired

Jungkook: Of?

You pause for a moment. Namjoon and Jennie can’t know how anxious you are about Jason. It’s the guy’s last strike with them and he hasn’t even met them yet. Jungkook, an impartial third party, might be able to lend an ear. As much as you don’t care what he thinks, you need an outlet for the anxiety in your chest. You start to draft a word-vomit. Jason has been so hesitant to see you in person again and now he’s late. Maybe if you just put it out there to someone you’ll feel better.

Jungkook: If you need to sleep how about a massage?

Jungkook: I’m good with my fingers 🥴

Stupid. In what universe could you confide in Jungkook? Deleting your word-vomit before you can send it, you start to type something else, but your thumb accidentally taps enter at the exact wrong moment.

You: You know what? I want you

FUCK. Goddamn you, sausage fingers.

You scramble to rewrite the sentence but Jungkook is quicker. He has to know it was an accident, but you’re still fucking mortified.

Jungkook: 😈

Jungkook: My place

Jungkook: Ten minutes

You: *to stay off my profile

Jungkook: 👉👌?

You: YOU KNOW I DIDN’T MEAN THAT

You: 🤢🤢🤢

Jungkook: 😩

Jungkook: Now you’re just playing games with me princess

Jungkook: Can’t say I mind just fuck me up 🥴

You: Don’t you have a princess to fuck in another castle? Maybe she can stroke your tiny ego

Jungkook: Ouch felt that from here

He goes quiet and you close the conversation out. Setting the phone down on the cushion beside you lasts all of two seconds. When your phone buzzes twice, you know better than to answer, yet you feel compelled to look.

Jungkook: Hey quick question

Jungkook: Is this the most you’ve used the app to talk with someone you like? 👻

Just like that you unmatch with him and take a moment to seethe. Distraction or no, he’s not worth the mental energy. He always seems to draw you in like a pretty little thirst trap and drain you of your sanity. Not engaging is the safest option so why do you always end up doing so? Maybe it’s that shitty little part of you that gets excited any time he shows you attention.

There’s a gullible girl within you; she sets your pulse on fire when he feigns even the slightest interest, fills your head with wind when he brushes against you, and floods your eyes with tears when he walks away. Still, she wants him to look at you, even if it means he’s really looking through you. You hate her. Why can’t she learn that you deserve better?

You check the time again and wince. Jason is really late now. Not even a text. Or a phone call. Maybe it’s traffic?

Try to relax. Nothing bad is going to happen. You’re going to have fun tonight.

You start up a game to take your mind off the options available to explain his absence. When you’re invested in a game you often lose track of time, but tonight you’re hyper-aware of every minute that passes. You bite at your freshly painted nails during loading screens, chipping the red from their edges. Sounding casual is difficult when you’re worried, but you attempt it anyway via text. It’s ten more agonizing minutes of waiting before your phone buzzes with an answer.

The controller drops to your lap and immediately tears begin to sprinkle your thighs with the manifestation of your heartache.

He forgot.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

An earthy scent fills Namjoon’s apartment as he carefully transfers the last of his plants to a bigger pot, filling in the edges of its roots with fresh soil and patting the edges down with care. His plants have needed this, maybe even more than he needs the mini hangout that will soon follow. The kitchen table is covered in dirt, but at least he’s almost done.

It’s not his fault Jungkook showed up earlier than expected. At least he’s quiet now. It’s been a while, but he’s finally stopped asking about how much longer it will take, so he must either be invested in the show he put on or asleep on the couch.

“Almost done,” Namjoon loudly announces. “Can you text Tae?”

“Kay.” Jungkook yawns as he stands and heads towards the bathroom. “Jin was already cooking when I left so it should be ready soon.”

“Good. I’m hungry,” Namjoon says, carefully transporting the plant to the desk in his bedroom.

As he’s on his way to clean up the mess on the table there’s a soft rapid knock at the front door. The moment he opens it and finds you standing before him, he knows something is wrong. Even the ratty hoodie covering your shoulders can’t hide the effort you’ve obviously put into your appearance tonight. While your makeup seems to have fared rather well, your eyes are red and your cheeks are puffy. His mind automatically assumes the worst about your second date and his jaw tightens.

“What happened? Did he hurt you?”

“He never showed.” You throw your arms around him and openly sob.

“Oh, Y/N…” His arms are around you in an instant, hugging you close while keeping his dirty fingers at bay.

You press your cheek against his chest, letting the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry. I know you probably have plans tonight, but I wanted to stop here—” You choke out a loud sob and wipe your nose with your sleeve as you look down at the floor. “I didn’t want to drive upset but you weren’t answering and I just—”

“Shit. Exam today. I left it on silent.” He pats his pocket to make sure it’s still there, wiping as much dirt as he can on his jeans before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. Deep breaths.”

Jungkook emerges from the bathroom quietly with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. Did he hear your voice or is it his imagination? Unsure if you’re some wishful remnant of earlier texts, he peeks around the corner.

Heels: black, strappy heels with a velvety smooth red undersole. Has he ever seen you in heels? If he has, it’s never been something as flashy as these. His gaze travels up the smooth, exposed skin of your legs until it hits the hem of a skirt. The dark fabric seems a little short; it clings to your thighs, riding up as you embrace his friend. It’s hard not to notice how well it accents the curve of your hips and more importantly: your ass. He’s definitely never seen you in something so revealing, not even on nights where you’ve joined them for dancing.

He pauses for a fraction of a second, eyes trained on the swell of your ass before moving up to find the disappointing sight of your favorite hoodie barring much else from view. Namjoon’s arms outline your shape, but the places his hands rest are far too respectable to glean much else other than simple blueprints.

With his dick leading his steps, Jungkook opens his mouth to announce his presence with a joke. He means to selfishly steal a glimpse of your entire ensemble with some snarky comment but you choke out a sob and his stomach lurches to form a whirlpool of apprehension. His mouth remains open, but his words are swallowed back into the dark swirling pit that now wrenches his gut in circles.

Namjoon looks up just in time to read the confusion and shock on his features. He shakes his head and cups yours against his chest, wordlessly signaling Jungkook to keep quiet.

“Is there anything I can do? Do you wanna talk about it?” Namjoon asks, hoping you don’t see the man behind you slowly backing away like he’s just approached a rabid animal.

You’re sobbing. Why are you sobbing? What happened? Was it what he said before you unmatched? Jungkook tiptoes back into the kitchen without a word. He leans against the counter and shoves his hands in his coat pockets, trying to piece everything together. Did he cause this?

You screw your eyes shut to try to keep the tears inside. It’s no use. They always seem to find a way out. “He didn’t show up and when I texted him, he… he said he forgot."

“What?"

“I thought it would be good after the arcade date, you know? Like, good chemistry. He’s weird. I like him! He seemed interested and we made these plans and he just—” you choke out another loud sob. “God. Am I really so fucking forgettable?”

You wanted your friends to be wrong so badly that you ignored the fact that it’s been like pulling teeth trying to get Jason to meet up again. For him to forget completely is like a kick to the face that leaves all the teeth intact, maybe a little bloody, but stubbornly intact.

“Y/N, no. It’s not your fault. You deserve better than this fucking guy.”

Jungkook swallows hard. This definitely doesn’t feel like a conversation he should be hearing, but it’s loud enough to carry through the entire apartment. Kitchen, bedroom, or bathroom: his options are limited, but he knows there’s nowhere to go to pretend like he can’t hear it. It’s not like he can just walk out the front door now.

“Do I? It’s seems like a fucking pattern, Joon. I fall for people so easily and they always make me feel like an idiot for trying. Donghyun. Seojun. Jason. Jungkook… It doesn’t matter. No one fucking wants me.”

Jungkook tenses. He may not know all the names on your list, but his is among them all the same. Has he really hurt you so much?

“Hey… Don’t think like that,” Namjoon says, his voice soft as he rubs your back. “You know your worth, and it’s not measured by how well someone else can see it.”

Every time you think you’re done crying, fresh tears begin to roll down your cheeks. “I’m tired, Joonie.”

“I know. I’m sorry. We'll get you home."

As you step back to look at him your ankle rolls, and you begin to fall. Hearing the scuffle, Jungkook winces and peeks around the corner. Namjoon has a good enough grip to stop you from fully tumbling to the floor, but you’re definitely not stable by any means.

Although you now face Jungkook, you’re too distracted by your ankle to notice the extra pair of eyes on you. He allows himself to stupidly linger within your line of sight, raking his gaze across your form to take in the details of your attire, right down to your choice of earrings. Even with a red nose and puffy, smudged eyes, the time you’ve spent on your appearance remains evident.

You did all that for some guy who didn’t even show? If that’s how you dress for your dates then his innocent perception of you is completely wrong. What kind of moron would pass up the opportunity to peel you out of that dress and dive into your cunt? You look incredible. What the fuck.

"God. Shit. Fuck! Fucking stupid heels!” You huff out your exasperation and let a small pitiful laugh pass your lips as you right your stance with Namjoon’s help. “You know, I spent hours getting ready and now I just look stupid. I feel stupid.”

“You don’t. You’re not,” Namjoon insists, his palm squeezing your shoulder.

“Namjoon, I shaved my entire body. Do you know how long that took?”

Jungkook forces himself to withdraw into the kitchen. If you see him now you might murder him. He purses his lips into a thin line and tightens his grip around his arms. In an instant he imagines hiking your dress above your hips and parting your legs so he might brush his cheek against the smooth expanse of your thigh all the way to your core. Are your panties as slutty as your dress? Are they cute? Lacy? Plain?

“Geeksquad…” Namjoon sighs loudly. “I really don’t need to know— Hold up. Wasn’t this the second date?”

“Are you slutshaming me?” The tired laugh that follows sounds more like you, but it still hurts his heart. “I’m stepping up my game.”

“Nah. You do you,” he says, a soft smile on his lips that’s obviously full of pity. “You want to stay and get some food? I think I have some sweats you can change into.”

Tires screech in Jungkook’s mind. Is he going to be trapped here for the night? Without dinner? What kind of karmic torture is the universe putting him through?

“No, I’m sorry,” you sniffle, wiping your face with the sleeves of your sweater. “Jennie wants me to come over but I—I didn’t think I could make it with having a full meltdown. You were on the way.”

“No need to apologize.” He pulls you into another tight hug. “Do you want me to walk you back to your car?”

“No, no it’s fine. I’m right in front. Thanks, Joonie.” Your phone begins to buzz in your hoodie pocket. You pull back and wave it at him, already on your way to the door. “It’s like she knew. I’ll talk to her on the way. Thank you for listening to me cry for the millionth time.”

“Always. Text me when you get there, okay?”

“Will do, mom,” you tease with a soft laugh.

“Zip up your hoodie.”

You grimace at him with narrowed eyes but heed his advice on your way out. You also pull your skirt down as far down your thighs as it will reach. Men are gross and you trust virtually none of them.

Jungkook waits until he hears the click of the lock on the door to breathe a loud sigh of relief. Namjoon rubs the back of his neck and stares at the door. He worries about you.

“Yikes. That Jason guy is a dick huh?”

Namjoon swivels on his heels and rounds on his friend. “Like you were so much better to her?”

Jungkook casts his gaze to the floor. “I didn’t stand her up.”

Even he knows that argument is flimsy.

“Guk.”

“It was always just a joke.”

“It’s not though. She really liked you, man. I asked you not to mess with her.”

Memories have warped Jungkook into a jaded man: untrusting although not uncaring. Guilt is the only thing churning in his stomach as he thinks of you. He never expected to genuinely hurt you. Somehow things twisted into a gnarled mess that never really felt like more than a playful game of tug-of-war. But these kinds of games only work when the people involved know that they’re playing. It’s shitty when one pulls another into the mud when they’ve never agreed to participate.

Faced with the reality of how you consider him now, it dawns on him that he’s dragged you into the mud face-first without even the slightest resistance. You’ve stood up and you’ve even yanked the rope in retaliation, but you never should’ve been in the mud in the first place. Regardless of his own emotional ineptitude, he knows you never deserved that humiliation. No one does. The weight of his actions sits heavy in his gut.

Still he tries to justify himself. “All I do now is make pass after pass and she’s the one who turns me down.”

“You said it earlier yourself,” Namjoon sneers, irritated by his friend’s immaturity. “It’s always a joke. You’re never serious and she knows it. Look, you don’t have to like her back. She’s my friend and so are you. Just don’t lead her on and stop with the mind games. Be honest with her. The least you can do is apologize for being a dick.”

“That’s— I feel like… I don’t know how.”

Jungkook can’t bring himself to tell him of your conversation earlier tonight. It just adds to the guilt piling on his conscience. Namjoon used his own words against him and the worst part is it makes sense. It’s so much easier when it’s a stranger at a bar or a random encounter at a club, but you’re neither of those things. He lumped you into that category all the same.

Namjoon clicks his tongue and puts an arm around Jungkook’s back. “Starting with ‘I’m sorry’ can go a long way. She’s a good person and I know you guys can get along. Things were going well until you made that bet, right?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. “Mmm.”

“Not every girl is a Jiseo, Jungkook.”

“Yeah.”

“I think…” Namjoon sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know. Can you try to just... tone it down? Maybe try to patch things up?”

“Okay.” Jungkook’s brow furrows and he chews his lip as he mulls over Namjoon’s words. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his keys. “You ready?”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Your head dips forward as your fingers glide across the keys. It's hard to concentrate on your task when you're this distracted by your own thoughts. You stare at the monitor with furrowed brows. Namjoon grabs the back of your chair and leans forward to tower over you.

"Went that well, huh? Did he blow the second chance he didn’t deserve?"

The motion jerks you backwards and you grip the armrests of the chair to steady yourself. Despite your best attempt to curb the irritation in your expression, your frustration remains apparent. You sit back and tilt your head up to look at him, trying to think of something to say, some excuse to not reinforce the "told you so" waiting in your future, not after you showed up at his apartment sounding like a dying whale a few days before. When no ideas come to your immediate aid, you click your tongue and let out a heavy sigh as you turn your attention back to the screen.

"Geeksquad," he presses. "Talk to me."

You exhale through your nose and briefly purse your lips before obliging his plea. The words are quick and quiet so you don't run the risk of bawling your eyes out again. "He canceled.”

Namjoon steps back and the pressure on your seat is gone. He places a large palm on your shoulder. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

Despite wanting to give the opposite answer, you shake your head. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you'd like to tell him. He's clever and you know he'll likely find a way to get it out of you with minimal effort anyway. Still, you don’t think you can manage the words without crying like a baby and you don’t want to do that when the morning has only just begun. Silence falls between the two of you as he gives you time to decide if you want to open up.

After a moment of tapping away you finally give in. You know you’ll feel better after you cry.

"He said he had to stay behind and help do clean-up for the party he was at. And that’s nice and all, but we had plans. I feel crazy. I should be glad that he’s so kind, right? Like that shows he’s a good person, right?” Your voice has cracked but it hasn’t quite broken.

He sighs and flops in the chair on the other side of his desk. “Y/N… I think you’re asking me for answers you already know.”

“But tell me anyway,” you press, tears welling in your eyes. “Our first date went so well. So why-y-” Your voice breaks.

“Hey.” He reaches across the desk and brushes his fingers against your arm. “I know you want me to help you make excuses for him... But you deserve someone who values your time. Clearly he’s just looking to waste it.”

“But—”

“Y/N, you don’t need someone like that. If this is what he’s like before you’re even together, then what kind of effort is he really going to put into a potential relationship? Not enough. There are so many people out there, people that would trip over themselves just to have the chance to be with you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think it’s a mistake that you even gave him another shot. He blew it. Twice. Delete his number. Forget him.”

“I know,” you croak. Tears fall from your eyes and you quickly swipe them away, focusing on the task at hand.

Namjoon is right and you know it, but you’re kind of irritated about it. You know it’s not really him you’re mad at, but Namjoon is a good enough placeholder while you try to sort through your hurt feelings.

You muster your most monotone voice as you stand. “I updated your drivers and deleted any cached files that might have been causing issues. Is that all?”

“Don’t be mad at me,” he pleads, rising to block your path as you step towards the door. “You have a big heart and I hate seeing it stepped on.”

In a matter of seconds you melt into his embrace and bury your face into his shirt. “I hate how fast I like people.”

“I know.” He pets the back of your head softly and squishes you against his chest. “It’s gonna be okay. How about udon later? My treat?”

“With beef?” you ask with a sniffle.

“With beef,” he agrees.

“Gyoza?”

“Mhm.”

“And takoyaki?”

“...You’re pushing it.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You slide the appetizer tray across the table towards Namjoon. “Here.”

He shovels a dumping into his mouth right before he speaks. “I could eat this every day for the rest of my life.”

“Could you afford it though?” you tease, taking a sip from the bottle of saké and crinkling your nose at it before passing it to him.

“Not if you’re joining me,” he snorts. “You’re supposed to pour it.”

“No, thanks.” You push the tiny glass full of liquid back towards him.

"Wow. Are you guys on a date?"

You know the source of the voice before you even crane your neck to see Jungkook.

"Pfft." Namjoon waves the question off with a deep laugh.

Despite finding the scenario of ever dating Namjoon absolutely absurd, you can’t help but feel a little insulted by the volume of his laughter. Namjoon’s hangout night was supposed to take your mind off of how unwanted Jason made you feel. Instead, the pit of insecurity within your stomach grows into a thick, tangled brush of hostility. Is being seen with you really so laughable?

“Why would we be?” you snap, turning your attention back to your bowl.

Heat settles in your face and you purse your lips, not daring to look at either of them. You try to wrangle some noodles to shovel in your mouth before you can say something stupid. Their eyes are on you. Jungkook is definitely confused but not alarmed by your hostility. It’s something he’s grown accustomed to. But Namjoon knows when he hurts your feelings, every time, and it’s easy enough to disarm your irritability.

“She’s way too good for a mess like me,” Namjoon says with a light laugh.

“Why are you here?” you ask, tone already softer than before.

"Post-work snackie," he answers, all too cheery for your sour mood. “Came for the noods. Mind if I join?”

He looks to the rosy-cheeked Namjoon for his answer, as you set your hoodie and purse down in the space beside you to give him yours. Namjoon betrays you by scooting over to make room on his side of the booth. You’d mentioned to him before that you’d eventually like to fix things with Jungkook, to somehow make steps for peace. But you only have so much mental energy left to give today.

“Not tonight, Jungkook,” you plead with a sigh.

The frustration in that puff of breath is enough to make Jungkook hesitate. He blinks a few times, wide-eyed. “What?”

“I just… can’t handle your bullshit tonight.”

Jungkook tries to break the uncomfortable tension with a grin. “No bullshit tonight. Promise.”

“No.” Your answer is firm and somehow so fragile that it makes both men worry their brows in the same fashion. “Please, just go away.”

He shoves his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and takes a few steps back. He doesn’t know what to make of your demeanor, but he can put enough together to know the basics. You’re upset, maybe not at him for once. However unlikely, that’d be a blessing. Maybe you’re still upset about that guy that stood you up a few days ago. If that’s the case, he probably shouldn’t stick around and risk letting on how much he knows about that.

He tongues the side of his cheek and nods, forcing a smile to his face. “Alright. I’ll just order it to go. Planned on that anyway. Catch you later.”

Guilt wracks your nerves as he walks away. The moment you look back at Namjoon, you’re faced with a wall of disappointment that threatens to topple the scale of decision-making in Jungkook’s favor.

“You’re judging me for that,” you mumble. The noodles between your chopsticks slip back into the broth.

“Little bit,” Namjoon admits, watching his friend sulk over to the entrance waitstaff. “You know he told me he’s trying to be nicer to you.”

“What? When?”

“The other day. We hung out.”

He keeps his answers short and ambiguous, hoping your curiosity has been piqued. Maybe this is the golden opportunity he’s been hoping for to patch your friendship.

“Was this before or after he harassed me on Tinder?”

Namjoon’s heart sinks into his butt. Of course Jungkook would make reconciliation harder than it needs to be. “When did he do that?”

“That night I showed up at your apartment like a big crybaby.”

“I went over his place for dinner after you left. Jin wanted to try a new recipe out on us.” That seems to at least make you pause.

“You guys talked about me?”

“Yup.” He goes back to chewing his food, knowing he’s got you hooked.

Your incredulous stare does nothing to pull information past his lips. “Joonie. What did you say about me? What did he say?”

“Mmm?” He slurps up a long noodle. “A lot of things. But they’re not really my words to tell.”

“No one likes clickbait, Joon.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that he told me that he wants to fix things. If you want specifics, maybe we can invite him to come eat with us. It might be easier for the both of you to talk about it over good food.”

You sigh, seriously considering his words even as you shake your head. “Joon, I’m already emotionally compromised. I really don’t want to cry in front of Jungkook tonight.”

“Why would you cry? This is a night for good things only. Namjoon-approved and protected. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to... I just thought it might be nice to make some good memories with good friends.”

You roll your eyes but hold your pinky out for him. “Fine. But this is Joonie-Y/N time. You’re cutting into that allotted time slot, you know that right?”

Namjoon rests his elbow on the table, preparing to pinky swear to whatever you’re about to suggest. “Conditions?”

“He sits next to you, he doesn’t make fun of me if I cry, and…. he doesn’t get to talk.”

“Y/N.”

“Fiiiiine. He can talk. But he better be as nice as you say he’s trying to be.”

“We allowed to talk about Jason?”

“If it comes up…” you sigh. “You know, if he’s mean to me and I cry then you have to deal with it.”

He clasps his long pinky around yours. “Deal. But with how all that just went down, you gotta go tell him to come back. He won’t believe me if I do it.”

“Don’t let him be mean to me,” you plead, tightening your grip on his pinky and locking eyes with him. “Good vibes only.”

“He won’t be mean. Good vibes only.” Namjoon nods with a soft smile. “He really is a good person where it counts, Y/N.”

You push your things aside and force yourself to find Jungkook. He’s leaning against a wall near the entrance, scrolling through his phone while he waits for his order. You quietly request to your waitress that you’d like his food brought to your table. She’s nice enough about it, but your stomach churns regardless. It’s the anxiety.

You gingerly poke a finger against his shoulder as you approach. “Um. Hey.”

He seems startled at first, but smiles when he realizes it’s you. “Hmm?”

You take a deep quiet inhale, trying your best not to get lost in the butterflies his charming smile conjures in your gut. You try to tell yourself it’s anxiety and nothing more. Apologies are hard and scary. That’s all.

“I’m… sorry for being rude. I’ve had a rough week but I shouldn’t take it out on you. Come eat with us, please. Namjoon’s buying anyway.”

His eyes seem to light up with surprise and a warm smile deepens the creases around his eyes and mouth. The hope that these feelings of attraction would evaporate with time is a flame swiftly snuffed out and replaced with a burning heartache that deems denial useless. Even now, pangs of infatuation lurk below your feelings of disdain, breaking the tension of its surface with each beat of your heart.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I shouldn’t have invited myself when I saw you guys. I should really get home and shower anyway.”

He looks so clean that you’d assumed he’d already showered. It’s not like you can smell him from where you stand. Maybe he’s lying, but at least you get the sense it’s coming from a place of politeness.

“Jungkook, I want you to come eat with us. Besides Namjoon wants someone to drink saké with him and I cannot keep doing it.”

“I see.” He offers a small laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “Are you sure? You seemed pretty against it before. What changed?”

“Namjoon told me you’re trying to be less of an asshole to me.”

“Did he?” he licks his lips and tries to hide his pleased smile. “I’m surprised you believe him.”

“He also promised me I could punch you in the dick if you make me cry,” you lie, completely stone-faced.

If he knows that’s a falsified statement, he doesn’t say anything. He looks past your shoulder to quirk a brow at Namjoon, who appears to be furiously texting at the table. Jungkook’s phone buzzes a few times against his palm and he’s fairly sure he already knows who it is.

“Come on. I already asked them to bring your food to the table.”

He reads Namjoon’s messages as he trails behind you.

NAMJOON: If you seriously want to apologize stick around, make her laugh, just listen when you need to

JUNGKOOK: Don’t worry

JUNGKOOK: I got u

Before Namjoon can send a text saying that Jungkook's response has the opposite effect, you’re peeking across the table, trying to get a glance at the screen.

“Who’s that?” you wonder. Namjoon’s not usually one to be so secretive with his texts.

“Hmm?” he raises his eyebrows at you and pours you a shot. “Stupid. Don’t worry about it.”

“Ha. Haha. Ha.” You gesture at your face. “You say to the girl with anxiety.”

Crinkling your nose at the glass he offers, you slide it across to Jungkook as he settles in next to Namjoon. “Here. I’m done drinking that stuff tonight.”

He regards it with a quirked brow. Something about your demeanor really has changed, but looking between you and Namjoon does nothing to answer the question of what that may be.

“Okay, so on reddit this guy was reaching. He’s going on about the symbolism in the red scarf—”

Your eyes gloss over the moment he mentions reddit. Is there anything you care less about than Joon’s favorite modern literary discussion threads?

“Got it. Not worrying about it,” you interrupt, bringing your bowl to your lips to slurp some of the broth.

Jungkook hides his smirk by throwing his head back to drink his shot. Namjoon is a genius. It might be scary if he ever decided to use his intellect for nefarious purposes. Lucky for the universe he uses it to protect others, like a real superhero would.

As the three of you dine together, you’re surprised to find that Jungkook isn’t being as annoying as he usually is. In fact, it seems the more he drinks outside of any competitive setting, the more affable he becomes. Maybe there’s something to Namjoon’s clickbaity words. He’s almost the person you remember meeting before the Halloween Party, maybe even more pleasant.

You’re grateful when the two of them start telling embarrassing stories so you can listen and laugh at the way they slur their words and interrupt each other. Laughter makes your heart feel light and full, and brave enough to take the last step to prove to yourself you’re done chasing Jason. As the two men fight over the last piece of gyoza and distract themselves over dessert, you quietly decide to clear your text messages from Jason. Your finger hovers over the delete icon for a second before purging his contact information from your device entirely.

It’s freeing to not have to worry about what you should send him. It’s frustrating to have tried so hard for so long and have nothing to show for it, but at least there will be no conversation history to pick apart anymore. It should feel perfect. That will definitely show him, right? You don’t have to reflect for more than a couple seconds to reinforce the memory of how little he actually reached out on his own.

He still has your number. The only time he ever called was on your first date. He never texted you unless you spoke first. He probably won’t even notice you’re gone. He’s probably relieved he won’t have to answer you anymore. He probably thinks you’re desperate for trying for so long. You don’t realize how well you wear your anxiety.

When you look up Jungkook is watching you while he chews with his mouth wide open. “Hey, why do-” He hiccups and swallows. “Why do you look so sad? You should have some ice cream.”

He scans the table for something to offer you, but he can’t seem to find what he’s looking for in his drunken stupor. After a few seconds his eyes finally land on his own plate where the other half of his red-bean cake sits.

“Do you want my taiyaki?” He holds the tail end of the fish-shaped cake out to you. “It’s really good!”

You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected sweet absurdity of the night. “Jungkook, I don’t want your half-eaten cake.”

He frowns and looks at the pastry. “Is it because I bit it? I’ll break off that part for you if you don’t want your mouth to touch that.”

Although Jungkook definitely is more drunk than Namjoon right now, the older man can’t help but be amazed by how well this is going. He loads up on green tea ice cream and digs his spoon in it. He shouldn’t have been so worried. Jungkook can put away the act when he wants to, especially once alcohol is involved and there’s nothing to prove. You guys are actually getting along. What a relief.

“No, really it’s okay.” You laugh.

Jungkook is already breaking the pastry apart in his hand, watching as it crumbles to pieces on his plate. He blinks a couple times and closes his mouth in a frown.

“I thought that would work.” He sounds utterly defeated.

The waitress walks over just in time to watch Namjoon stick a heaping spoonful of wasabi in his mouth. You're too busy laughing at Jungkook's forlorn expression to notice the way Namjoon's eyes water. His eyes drop to the ice cream he thought he shoveled into his mouth. Right next to the pristine, untouched scoop of green tea ice cream, he finds his spoon resting in the hunk of wasabi adjacent to it. He should really pay attention more. He pushes against Jungkook's side and motions that he needs to get up. The younger man spares a glance his way but Namjoon waves him off while mumbling something about the bathroom.

The waitress tries to keep her composure and looks between the pair of you. "How is everything?"

"Great! Could you please bring us some water?" you ask in your sweetest voice, realizing the two men with you should at least try to start sobering up.

You expected to have Namjoon crashing on your couch on a Friday night, or at least be dropping him off down the hall at Hobi’s place. Jungkook was not part of the plan, but you can’t exactly let him drive home inebriated. You know he’s not your responsibility but you’d feel guilty making him call for a ride home when you’re perfectly capable.

Although you hate to admit it, you’ve had fun tonight. If you’re being honest with yourself you’d like to see what he’s like without Namjoon nearby to police his moves. He’s been nice enough, but you want to know for sure this isn’t an act. You want to ask him if he’s made another bet, or playing some game since he hasn’t hit on you all night. Before you can get your line of questions in order, Jungkook turns to the server with large, pleading eyes.

"Oh! Can you bring some more dessert, please?"

He may be a grown ass man capable of charming the pants off of women everywhere, but right now he is little more than a child begging for seconds. Regardless of everything he's done, your heart softens, endeared and embarrassed by his drunken request to your server.

The waitress nods. "Sure, what would you like?"

His eyes fall to you for an answer. "What do you like?"

You blink at him. "Me? I thought this was for you."

He nods. "Mm. We can split it."

"Um, how about... tempura?"

"Banana?"

Jungkook’s voice is full of anticipation and his upturned eyebrows seem to bargain for agreement. It’s so hard to believe this is the same man who has been so cold to you for so long when he seems so open and warm now. You remind yourself it’s probably the alcohol. It’s probably some secret promise to Namjoon. Some bet with Hobi. Some game he’s playing. It’s probably anything other than what your dumb crush-stupefied heart wants it to be.

The waitress looks to you for approval and you give a nod. "Sure. Banana tempura."

The waitress awkwardly smiles as she gathers the empty platters and gives you a chance to break away from his endearingly drunken face. He smiles across the table at you and wrings his hands while you pick up your phone to check on those nonexistent messages. Maybe if you distract yourself enough you can ignore the feelings that are catching up to you tonight.

“Thank you for inviting me back over,” he says, reaching to the nearly empty bottle of saké to pour himself another shot. “I’ve... been wanting to talk to you."

"I’m surprised you didn’t blow up my phone.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but there’s a harshness in your tone that exposes a venomous bite beneath it.

He downs the shot and plants his elbows on the table, leaning forward on them. "I wanted to say it to your face."

“Oh, really?”

You don’t allow yourself to entertain the idea that he’s about to say anything groundbreaking, but you look away from your phone to meet those dark, twinkling eyes. Suddenly there’s hope in your gut. You’re desperate to put some distance between the feelings jumping to the surface.

“I’ve been a dick.”

“No shit.”

Though the fog of alcohol consumes his apology, his eyes focus on you with clarity. “I’m sorry.”

How long have you waited to hear those words? You never really thought about what you might say in response. His apology sits in the air between you for a moment before he speaks again.

“I’m really sorry. Namjoon is right. I am trying to be less of an asshole to you. We don’t…” he catches himself, “I don’t have a lot of close friends who are women.”

“You don’t say.”

That seems to cut through the fog. He hangs his head and focuses his gaze on the table.

“I never wanted to hurt your feelings.”

“Well, you did,” you mumble.

“I know... I’m sorry.” It’s like now that he’s said it once, he can’t stop saying it. He’s not sure how to make you understand. Maybe you do understand and you just won’t forgive him. Can he really blame you for that?

“Why?” you question; it’s the last barrier protecting your heart, the only thing keeping you from caving. “Why do you care now?”

Jungkook’s head lolls to one side as he sits back against his seat and stares at the nearly empty bottle of saké. “I don’t know. I guess I was thinking… I wish I had a save to reload. Before I messed up.”

It seems that’s the best you’re going to get out of him right now. The waitress sets down a beautiful platter of banana tempura meticulously arranged around a simple mound of ice cream, topped with a single cherry and drizzled with decorative chocolate. She places three waters on the table and you both take a moment to politely force smiles and pause your conversation.

He licks his lips and stares down at the plate and then back up at you. “Can we start over?”

“Depends. Are you gonna go back to being a dick when you’re not drunk anymore?”

“No, no. I mean it. I wanna try to be friends.”

“For real?” You swipe the cherry, pop it in your mouth and tilt your head to regard him. You can’t let yourself fully believe him. You want to. The earnestness in his drunken features charms you, but you hold onto a shred of disbelief as a crutch. You’ll wait for the moment he reverts. Hopefully this time you’ll be prepared for the whiplash that comes along with it.

“For real.”

You reflect on his apology as the pair of you dig into the dessert. “Maybe. Prove it.”

He perks up. He’ll take a maybe. Maybe means the damage he’s done might not be irreparable. The guilt weighing on his conscience feels lighter. It’s a start.

“I will. I’ll find some way to make it up to you.”

You roll your eyes, unwilling to put stock in his words. “Is this another bet with Hobi? About how quickly you can make me forgive you?”

Jungkook shakes his head furiously, wisps of wild black hair whipping his cheeks. “No, I mean it. I promise.”

You drag your lip through your teeth as you teeter on the line of acceptance. “What is a promise from a liar worth?”

He drops the flat of his palm to the table and he pouts. “Hey. I mean it…. Hm. If I break my promise…” His eyes scan the table for anything he can use to change your mind. He looks at his arm pressed against the table and then back at you. “You can choose my next tattoo.”

Your eyebrows rise into your hairline. “Really.”

He eagerly nods. “I’ll get whatever you want wherever you want. Just. Not my face.”

“I want that in writing,” you snort.

Jungkook glances around the table and pulls a napkin from under the plate of tempura. “Do you have a pen?”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”

“I’m serious.” He’s not taking no for an answer.

You shake your head and rummage through your purse to supply him with a pen. He smooths out the napkin he’s chosen to use as a conduit for his promise. When he’s finished writing he slides it towards you.

Princess

I’m sorry. I can make it right.

I promise. Please give me another chance.

If I blow it you can choose what & where my next tattoo goes.

As long as it’s not my face. Let’s be friends? #promise.com ♡ Jungkook

Of course he signed it with a heart. Despite his inebriation, his handwriting is still neat. Well, that’s one hell of a promise.

“Okay.” You fold the note and drop it into your purse. “We can try.”

His face lights up as he stuffs a piece of tempura into his mouth, happily chomping with his mouth wide open. He reaches for the saké but you slide a water in front of him instead.

“Friends don’t let friends get totally shitfaced at Hajime.”

He frowns at you but seems to accept your answer with a pout.

“Speaking of which… Where is Namjoon?” You crane your neck to look around the restaurant.

“Friday noodle nights common for you guys?” Jungkook asks, digging into the dessert between massive gulps of water.

“No, not really. We’re usually watching movies at my place or hanging with Hobi. But Namjoon wanted to take me out because I was sad,” you say, finally catching sight of your friend on the other side of the bar.

Jungkook’s chewing slows and he regards you with furrowed brows. “Sad?”

Before you can decide how you want to answer, Namjoon is scooting into the booth next to Jungkook and reaching for a piece of tempura. “Mmmm. What did I miss?”

“Y/N was telling me why she’s sad.”

Namjoon nods like he understands exactly what you’ve been talking about. “He’s a dick, right? Like how do you even stand someone up, not once, but twice? Makes no sense.”

“Joonie—”

“And I know what you’re gonna say, but I disagree. It has nothing to do with you or how you look, Y/N. You don’t need to workout like a maniac to try to change anything. Especially not for someone like Jason. I can’t even imagine—”

“Joon.” You click your tongue and slide a glass of water in front of him. “Please, shut the fuck up.”

As you glare at him, he looks at you with raised brows and wide eyes. Unsure what to do now that he’s obviously fubared the conversation, he casts his guilty gaze to his cup and brings it to his lips.

Jungkook stares at you with furrowed brows, trying to wait to let you fill in the blanks even though he’s itching to ask about everything. He picks another piece of tempura and stuffs it into his mouth, but when you remain silent the impulse to pry takes over. “Jason?”

“He stood me up…” you start, but you close your mouth when you realize you’re going to try to defend him. Your throat feels full, like you can’t get enough air through with a giant knot in it like this. You have to whisper so your voice doesn’t crack. “Twice.”

The couple drinking at the table nearby becomes a much more interesting place to rest your eyes than the two men across from you. Tightening your jaw doesn’t prevent the gloss from coating your eyes. Thinking about it makes you feel so stupid and desperate. Bending over backwards a thousand different ways to accommodate him couldn’t convince him to put in even a minimal amount of effort one time.

Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise. “Twice?”

The hurt you feel in your chest scorches your cheeks until anger is filling your head like a teakettle ready to release an unhealthy amount of steam right in Jungkook’s face.

“That’s what I get for giving people second chances,” you snap as you focus back on him.

Joon says your name like it’s a warning but you don’t need it. You feel guilty enough for projecting your anger onto Jungkook with a petty one-liner.

“Sorry. It’s not your fault. I just…” Your throat closes around the rest of the words.

Before an uncomfortable silence can settle over the table, Namjoon inches the bottle of saké with his fingertips until it’s in front of him. “Dating is tricky. Jason sucks. It sucks that he hurt you. But you don’t have to twist yourself into whatever you think he wants anymore. And that…” He pours the pitiful remainder of alcohol into a shot glass and slides it towards you.“...is worth celebrating.”

Jungkook silently nods his head in agreement. It’s obvious you’re on the verge of tears and he doesn’t want to be the thing that pushes you over the edge.

A soft smile curls the corners of your mouth. “That’s true, but…” you slide the glass back towards him and steal the last of the banana tempura. “I can celebrate back at my apartment. Finish your water so you’ll be awake enough to join me. Both of you.”

Jungkook perks up and happily reaches for his water while Namjoon gives you a proud, yet confused look. It seems like a new start to something. What that is remains to be seen.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook watches intently as the colors of the city shine through the windows. He runs his fingers over the soft blanket you keep in the backseat, mouthing the words to the song softly playing from your dashboard. Namjoon has been talking nonstop from the passenger seat, which is fine with Jungkook since he’s feeling a little tired. The last session of the day was a bit more intense than intended, but the client left happy and covered in sweat. A success. But Jungkook is sore and exhausted. Physically and socially.

A sense of relief floods him at the memory of his conversation with you. Things may actually be okay from here. Who would have thought crashing your noodle night with Namjoon could have yielded such results?

His head bobs to the music as his eyes wander across the scenery outside until he grows bored and they drift to the interior of your car. A graduation tassel swings from your rearview mirror as you turn. He follows the movement of the tassel when it swings towards you and his eyes land on your face, or at least what he can see of it from this angle.

You look focused and calm while conversing with Namjoon but your posture is a bit rigid and your hands remain planted on the steering wheel in complete control. There’s something about this candid snapshot of your persona that puts him at ease. Your voice is a soft contrast to Namjoon’s, but equally enthusiastic.

He tilts his head as he leans back in his seat, pulling the blanket over his lap and twisting the fabric around his palm. Your eyes flicker in the rearview mirror, catching his. He gives a tiny wave and rests his head against the cushion, fighting the temptation to close his eyelids for longer than a second. The more he listens to you laugh, the more he finds himself smiling. It’s goofy.

It’s also kind of cute.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook is surprised when Yoongi answers your knock; he thought he would be asleep. He’s even more surprised when you make yourself at home on his couch and guilt him with a puppy dog pout to make you a drink, and he complies. When Jungkook asks the same, Yoongi tells him there’s beer in the fridge while measuring out the ingredients for your cocktail. The suspicious sour ache of jealousy stabs his gut as he moseys to the fridge but he quickly shakes it off, settling on the floor in front of the tv with a beer in hand.

After a couple hours of drinking, laughing, and playing Jackbox games with the three men, you’re feeling much better about everything. Life is good. Friends are good. Alcohol is very good.

It doesn’t take much to get you drunk. You’re about as much of a lightweight as Hobi and for better or worse everyone has come to know that fact. What’s nice about drinking in Yoongi’s apartment is that you don’t have to walk very far to get home. Things don’t get awkward with the three of them together; it’s actually kind of nice, like a mini Saturday night pregame.

Soon Namjoon and Yoongi are snoring on the couch with a movie playing in the background while you stand in the kitchen with Jungkook. He pours another drink for himself, though he knows it will mostly likely remain unfinished. Tomorrow may bring a massive hangover, but tonight has been surprisingly pleasant. He feels like he’s finally on okay footing with you, maybe even on the road to serious repair. Amazing how well you get along when inhibitions are replaced by inebriation. If that’s what it takes, he’s determined to keep it up.

As he turns his back to place the liquor bottle in the cabinet by the fridge, you swipe a sip of the drink he’s concocted. He spins around in time to see you wrinkle your nose and stick your tongue out.

“Hey, that’s mine!” he pouts.

“Blegh. You can have it. Yuck!” Your face screws up again at the aftertaste.

He drunkenly giggles as he slides the drink closer to him. “What, don’t like sour?”

“Too sour!” You reach for the water bottle Yoongi gave you hours ago and attempt to rinse the puckering sensation from your mouth.

Amused, he tilts his head and watches you take gulp after gulp. He purses his lips and holds back the comment itching to escape, deciding to enjoy a sip of his drink instead. You shimmy out of your hoodie and tie it around your waist and his eyes lazily follow the motion of your arms, noting a slight difference in their musculature. Some errant thought about their shape leads him back to an earlier unaddressed comment that he’s finally comfortable enough to prod you about.

“What kind of workouts are you doing?” he blurts.

Suddenly you feel very exposed. You straighten in your seat and suck in your gut, hyper aware of every imperfection of your body on display to someone so in shape. You immediately begin to fidget with the sleeves of the hoodie you just tied around your waist.

“You don’t have to tell me. I just—” he pauses, exhaling a small breath and looking down at his drink as though he’s wary of continuing the thought.

“No, no it’s fine,” you assure him, too curious to say otherwise. “What is it?”

“When Namjoon said…” he sighs and takes a sip, smacking his lips and licking them before looking back to you. “I thought maybe I can prove myself to you by helping you come up with a plan.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You plant an elbow on the counter and lean on it.

“I want to,” he insists, reaching out for your arm.

His hand is like fire engulfing your skin and your eyelids flutter at the sensation. Instinctively you place a hand over his and rub your thumb anxiously over it. He looks down to where your thumb grazes his knuckles and then back up to your face with a surprised smile.

“Um… Everything,” you say, trying to sound as vague and nonchalant as possible so he doesn’t judge you for your lack of knowledge.

“Like, full body?”

“Uh...” You’ve managed to make a habit of going to his gym a few days a week while successfully avoiding him, but it seems that time is coming to an end. “I… machine.”

“Oh. Like at a gym? Did you join one?” He seems genuinely curious.

“Um, yeah.” Suddenly you pull your hand back when you realize the speed at which your thumb is moving.

“Which one?”

The more you say, the more suspicious you seem, but is saying less any better? Jungkook rests his elbow on the counter and simply looks at you but you don’t look back. A slow smile spreads his lips as the possibility dawns on him.

“Princess… Did you join Iron Kingdom?”

You puff your cheeks and force the air through the tiny opening of your mouth. You don’t offer any sort of confirmation and continue to avoid his gaze.

“And you didn’t tell me?” he playfully prods, drumming his fingers against your forearm.

“I… Yeah,” you admit, your voice small as you stare at the counter. “I didn’t want you to know.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“I don’t want to give you another thing to make fun of me for.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” When you don’t respond he tugs on your arm. The motion is enough to angle you towards him. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey.”

“What?” you grumble, staring at your lap even as you face him.

He takes your hands in his and drunkenly waves them around. “Heeeeeeeey. Look at me.”

He pouts until you reluctantly drag your eyes to meet his. “What?”

“Everyone starts somewhere,” he says softly. “Even me.”

The shift in his demeanor catches you off guard and you subconsciously lean forward as you relax. “Well I started with Hwasa, but I was too sore to ask for another session with her.”

He nods sympathetically, clapping his hand over yours. “You should try again.”

You shake your head. “I don’t know. I feel like…”

“Like?” he prods when you let the silence trail for a bit too long.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you sigh. “I feel like I don’t belong there. I look so stupid reading the instructions on the machines. I don’t even think I’m doing it right.”

“What?” He makes a sound between a laugh and a grunt. “There’s nothing wrong with making sure you don’t hurt yourself. Nobody knows how to instantly do things. If they tell you they do, they’re lying.”

“Or they’re Namjoon,” you say with a roll of your eyes, glancing over at your snoring friend.

He smiles and clicks his tongue against his teeth in thought. “I didn’t know what I was doing when I started.”

“Really.”

You’re skeptical. It’s always seemed like he was born in a gym. Or maybe hatched. He’s kind of inhumanly gorgeous. Maybe he sprouted from a flower like a mythical god.

“For real. First time doing squats. I think it was gym class? Yeah, I was like twelve or thirteen. I was… not very athletic. Didn’t play sports or anything. Kind of shy. Didn’t really have a lot of friends either…”

The way he trails off makes your heart hurt. Puberty isn’t nice to most people. It’s hard to imagine a world where someone like Jungkook isn’t instantly popular and naturally fit. While you’re not exactly the same person you were at twelve, a lot of your interests and personality quirks have remained the same. You’re still painfully awkward at times. How did he manage to overcome something like that? Is it not ingrained in him like it is you?

“Just a big dork, you know?” He laughs. “I see this girl I had a crush on, Amber. She’s looking at me. I think I have to impress her. So I’m stacking up weight and I think I’m hot shit and go too fast. Know what happened?”

“Please don’t tell me you dropped it on your foot or something,” you plead, squeezing his palms at the way he’s building up the story. The secondhand embarrassment is too real.

“I hear a pop.”

“No!” you gasp, bringing your hands to your face as if you can stop the past from happening.

“And pain. So much pain. I don’t remember putting the weights down but I remember ending up on my back, staring up at the ceiling.”

“Oh no. Knees?”

“Worse.” He points down to his crotch. “Pulled a muscle in my groin. Had to sit the rest of the day with an ice pack on my junk. Was not fun. My point is: don’t give up. You learn more as you go. Give Hwasa another shot.”

His anecdote gives you pause but you’re desperate to cling to the comfort of your anxiety. “My free trial with her is almost up and I don’t think I’ll be able to afford to keep at it.”

“More excuses,” he teases, taking a sip of his drink. “At this point I should just—” His eyes widen, a lightbulb practically forming above his head as he puts his cup down. “I’ll be your personal trainer!”

“Uhh…”

“No, no. It’s perfect. We’re friends now.” He smiles, proud of himself for finding a way to prove himself to you. “I can teach you everything you need to know about working out. I can set up a plan for you and figure out the best way to help you achieve your goals. Oh, man we’re gonna have to figure out your goals. What do you—”

“Hold on. Hold on,” you interrupt with a nervous laugh. “You’re missing the part where I still can’t afford it.”

He rolls his eyes and grabs your glass, holding it under the sink to refill it. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll cover it.”

You’re stunned into silence as you observe the expanse of his back, searching the black fabric of his t-shirt for the definition of his muscles. He sets the cup in front of you, waiting for your agreement. When it doesn’t come, he second guesses himself. Did he overstep?

“I mean if you’re okay with that. Would-would you want to do that?”

The innocent drunken sparkle in his eyes makes your stomach do a flip. When you woke up this morning you hardly thought the day would include getting sloshed with Jungkook and having him offer to take you on as a fitness trainee. It’s like he’s opened himself up just enough for you to see the soft mess beneath. You like it. You like it a lot and you kind of hate yourself for it. While you don’t know if you can trust him past the evening, you find yourself hoping you can.

“You won’t make fun of me?” you ask timidly before bringing the cup of water to your lips.

“It’s my job not to make fun of you. We start where you’re at and go from there. And like I said, I’ll cover the fees for as long as you want. No pressure.” He smiles at you. “What do you think?”

“...Okay,” you murmur with a nod of your head. “If you’re serious, then I’m… I’m in!”

His lips part to expose his teeth as his grin spreads. “Yes!”

As he brings his hand up in a sign of victory, his knuckles knock against his glass. You reach for the cup with impaired reflexes, hands fumbling over the slippery surface in conjunction with his. The sour contents spill across the counter as the pair of you struggle to right the glass. While he’s quicker at getting the glass upright, your brain is faster at processing what to do next and you already have a paper towel in hand, wiping up the liquid as fast as possible.

Your eyes follow the spill to the edge of the counter where it’s flooded over the side. Acting on instinct rather than rational thought, you quickly press down where the liquid has begun to pool in his lap. As you fold the paper towel over, you rub frantically as if the action will keep the stain from setting into the fabric. He shifts in his seat and squeaks out a sound so small that you can’t actually tell whether it came from him or the chair.

It only dawns on you how inappropriate your actions are when you glance towards his face and find his wide eyes gazing back at you. His cheeks, already flushed from inebriation, seem twice as vivid and his mouth is parted slightly as though he means to speak, but he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t want to embarrass you, but it’s too late for that.

Your palm stills against his crotch as the shape beneath becomes clear in your mind. For a second you’re frozen, but your lips work quickly to mumble an apology. It feels like an eternity before you will your drunken fingers to release the paper towel. The clearing of Jungkook’s throat is followed by a tiny giggle, then a full on snort. A grin spreads across your lips and you soon follow him into a fit of laughter. You thank the universe for the small mercy of being drunk enough to push your embarrassment to the side for the time being.

“I wasn’t thinking!” you wheeze, tears in your eyes from laughing so hard. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’ll dry.” He laughs, dabbing his pants and shirt in the absence of your hand. As he stands he pulls the hem of his shirt away from his torso and looks down at it. “Really. It’s my fault I’m so…”

“Sticky?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, a blatant flirtatious action thinly disguised as a joke as you eye the blot of liquor staining the lower half of his shirt.

Both of his eyebrows raise and a mischievous smile curls the corner of his lips. “...Wet.”

You consider his answer with a pleased hum and turn back to the counter to polish off the last of your water. You’re friends now, right? It can’t be that easy. But it kind of is. So what’s wrong with a little harmless flirting between friends?

Drunk brain, who happens to be a notorious hoe, assures you it’s great. Rational brain might disagree, but she’s taking a well-deserved nap. You’ve at least had a good night. You’re not sure it matters at this point who is giving you the attention you crave. It feels good. So good, in fact, you’re sure you can indulge drunk brain a little more.

You’re drawn to the inky shapes swirling around Jungkook’s bicep as he wipes the counter down. Every time your eyes begin to focus on an object marking his skin with some kind of meaning, he moves and you lose it. It’s brush strokes, isn’t it? You’ve definitely seen a paintbrush and mountains and a knife surrounded by roses. A swathe of grey and purple connects to each one you’ve seen, but you know there are more.

Before you can blurt that you’re dying to know how many he has and how bad it hurt to get them, he turns toward the sink and begins to work his t-shirt up his torso. You watch in awe as the toned muscles of his back are exposed. The image of the bright phoenix does little to hide their definition.

Trying to will yourself to look away is of no use; he’s hot and you’re drunk enough to acknowledge that fact. Of course he peeks at you just as the shirt slips over his head to find you open-mouthed and dazed, ogling him as though there isn’t any shame in the world that could pull your gaze from him. He turns to the fridge to give you a moment to compose yourself, nabbing a water bottle from the shelf in the process. You’re clearly not ready for the way he quickly spins on the balls of his feet to face you.

Y/N.exe has stopped working.

Your fingers hang in the air suspiciously until you lazily drop them. But Jungkook dons a toothy grin and has the audacity to look shy. He mockingly shields his chest from you with the shirt clutched in his hands.

“Princess! Are you… checking me out?”

Somehow you don’t let the fire in your face turn your brain to ash.“Pfft, no.”

“What’re you doing, then?” he teases with a laugh as he sits, scooting his chair closer to yours.

“Counting,” you reply simply, brow furrowed in concentration. To drive the point home, you poke at his flesh everywhere you can make out an object drawn into its surface.

“How many?” he wonders, watching with cloudy, amused eyes.

“Mmm…” You trail your finger down his arm and back up, following the curve of the brushstroke around his shoulder. “Can’t tell if this counts as one.”

He shrugs and rests his head on his palm as he leans against the counter. “What do you think?”

You hesitate when he quickly quirks a brow.

“I think… A lot.”

“Definitely accurate,” he says with a grin.

Awkward laughter steers the pair of you towards your waters. The TV in the background provides enough noise to steal your focus; you’re grateful for the distraction from the attractive man beside you. Drunk brain is telling you to touch him again, to grab his hand, to feel the touch of someone just for the night, to ruin every good thing this night has started to rebuild between you. Anything to stave off the emptiness of your bed, the 2AM thoughts of failure, and the drunken desperation to find someone, anyone, who will fall in love with whatever image you happen to project on your dating profile.

Heart pounding wildly in your chest and blood rushing through your ears, your fingertips tap against the countertop as they inch closer to where his arm rests. Luckily your futile attempts at nonchalance go unnoticed. Jungkook anxiously turns his water bottle over in his hands, trying to gather words in his brain before freeing them from his mouth.

“So…” he begins.

You jump at the sudden sound and retract your hand while he’s not paying you any mind.

“I was thinking. About that guy…”

You wish you could at least pretend you don’t know who he’s talking about. You’ve vented plenty tonight, but still your heart sinks. Deleting Jason’s digital footprint from your life was simple and quick, but the feelings of rejection and disappointment that swirl in the back of your mind spill forward the longer his pause continues.

“I know this probably means nothing coming from me. But I just— I know you liked him, but you can do better.“

Your posture stiffens at his reassurance and you find yourself grateful he’s not looking at you. Do you deserve better?

“You deserve better,” he affirms, as if somehow aware of your internal struggle.

“Thanks,” you murmur with a distinct lack of enthusiasm as you stare down your glass.

It's cry hours, isn’t it?

Realizing you don’t believe him, he takes a deep breath and nudges you with his elbow. “Hey.”

“What.” You refuse to look up because you know you’re on the verge of an irrational stream of tears over some guy you hardly knew. It’s stupid and you know it. But the wet warmth coating your eyes tells you it’s coming regardless.

“I’m... sorry that you don’t feel like you do. Some people can’t get over the weight of their own shit. But that doesn’t mean it’s on you to pick it up for them. If they can’t even bother to carry themselves to meet you halfway, then they’re not worth the effort.”

It’s a perfect time for your heart to seize up and it takes the opportunity to do so. The advice he offers doesn’t stave off the tears, but it resonates deep within you. Namjoon said something similar. It makes you ache to hear it again from someone else. It just leads you back to the same questions you keep asking yourself. What’s so wrong with you that people don’t even want to try? Is it your personality? Physicality? Is it a lack of confidence? What is it?

‘I can’t even get a shitty guy to like me. Maybe I’m the one not worth the effort.’ You don’t dare say those words out loud. Pity isn’t something you’re looking for. A warm body to fill your bed maybe, but not pity.

“Sounds easy when you say it like that,” you murmur, trying in vain to will the tears not to fall. You’re quick to swipe at them and force a smile. “I guess I have trouble giving up on people. It’s not that I’m naive. I try to be realistic. But no matter how many times I get fucked over I just... hope for the best in people. I can’t help it.”

He pats your arm reassuringly. “That’s why you deserve better.”

If only it was as simple as hearing those words and magically being able to believe it. A big chunk of your confidence has crumbled away and there’s no clear path to restoration. As the warmth of his palm comes to rest against your arm, you place your hand over his and squeeze.

“I don’t know if I believe it,” you pause and thoughtfully add, “but thanks for saying it.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he offers a tiny, “You’re welcome.”

A shaky chuckle passes your lips. All of his features seem to soften the more you look at them. Maybe it’s the drunken gloss coating his big brown eyes or the way his lips slightly part as he looks back at you. The tightly coiled nerves in your belly urge you to unravel.

Although it's a subtle gesture, he licks his lips as he smiles and it practically seals your fate. If you don't leave now you're bound to do something you'll regret.

"It's late. I should sleep."

Or masturbate.

The speed at which you launch yourself from the seat is unpleasant. You're not sure what's worse: the dizzying vertigo or waves nausea sloshing in your gut. Jungkook's reflexes may be delayed but he's a steady mass of muscle the moment you reach out to steady yourself.

"Whoa. You okay?"

"Maybe," you mumble, finding yourself drawn to the heat radiating from his skin. Instead of walking away, slump down to rest your cheek against his shoulder and sling an arm around him. You might be drunker than you thought. "I don't know."

"Hmm. What do you need, princess?"

"Just wanna stop spinning."

His stance shifts to better accommodate the additional weight you press against him.

"How about you take over Yoongi's bed tonight," he suggests softly. "He's passed out anyway."

"No, I should go home." You peel your cheek from the warmth of his skin.

“You gonna make it there?”

“Yes,” you say indignantly. The world may be a bit wobbly right now, but you’re certain you can handle the short stroll down the hall.

"Okay.” He smiles, loosening his hold. As you step back your foot catches on the leg of the chair and it drags loudly against the floor.

Despite Jungkook’s attempt to keep you standing by grabbing at your arms, he loses his balance and he drops to his knees. The chair clatters to the floor before your ass does. Luckily his grip keeps your back and head far from impact, but you’re too cramped to be comfortable.

“Are you okay?” he asks. Those big, dark doe eyes of his are frozen in fear and a frown adorns his face. He looks so serious it’s ridiculous.

You can’t help but laugh, wiggling backwards to make space between his body and the heat steadily building between your legs. “I’m fine. Stop making that face.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” He sits back on his feet and tilts his head to the side in confusion.

He breaks into a fit of giggles when you dramatically mimic his expression. You roll back onto your elbows, making another ridiculous face to further mock him.

“No, no. It’s more like…” Jungkook takes the opportunity to lean over you, reaching with one hand to squeeze your cheeks to pucker your lips. You blow a disjointed raspberry at him before pulling his hand off to the side.

While the clamor of the fallen chair did nothing to rouse the men on the couch, the sound of Jungkook’s hearty laughter is loud enough to disturb the rhythmic snores of Namjoon.

Jungkook sits back on his heels and peeks over the countertop. He seems miles away, even as you sit up and scoot in to bring yourself closer. Laughter fades into a quiet hum as Namjoon’s snoring resumes.

You're lost in the abyss of his gaze as he turns his head to look back at you. All that remains in your brain at this point is a foggy desire to tug on the silky spirals of his ebony hair until he presses himself against you one more time.

Your hand settles for following the curves of his bicep instead, wondering how it might feel to be wrapped within his embrace. Some might say liquor makes you bold and stupid, and they're right. They should say it. But it also makes you feel invincible, like a goddamn glowing Mario star power-up.

"Princess?"

Enraptured, his eyes follow the motion of your hand as it slithers around his arm and squeezes. Unable to ignore the prompt, he answers with a flex against your palm. His ego swells when you shiver and noticeably hold your breath.

You know it's a mistake. You know it goes against all of your sober judgement, but you find yourself doing it anyway. It doesn't matter that you still harbor a grudge that holds your heart hostage. Drunk hoe vibes are taking the wheel. You’re tired, drunk as hell, and just want to feel wanted. And he's here.

Every fiber of your inebriated being is singing in unison: Why the fuck not?

Heartbeat pounding against your eardrums, you attempt to gauge his reaction as you lean towards him. It's hard to tell from beneath half-lidded eyes, but you think he's leaning towards you too. If he isn't you suppose you can always play it off like you're just a mess. It's not far from the truth. Focusing on the tiny freckle below his lip, you allow yourself to finally close your eyes and go for it.

But the universe isn’t here for your dumb boozy bitch mistakes.

The front door swings open with the sound of jingling keys dropping to the floor. It snaps you back to reality and you freeze, realizing there's no defense that will save you. Jungkook is quick to disengage, poking his head above the counter to acknowledge Hoseok’s presence with a wave. But his friend is completely enamored with the company he’s ushering towards his bedroom.

“Yeah, baby? How bad?” Hoseok whispers to the giggling girl wrapped around his arm.

He pins the stranger against the door to drag his tongue across her neck. Their bodies move rhythmically in a slow grind, a precursor for what’s likely to come. Jungkook purses his lips. How long until one of them notices him watching? It’s not until the girl moans Hoseok’s name softly that Jungkook spares a panicked look towards you.

Oh shit.

You gesture for him to get down before he draws their attention. The last thing you want to explain is why you’re on your knees in Hoseok’s kitchen with a very shirtless Jungkook standing close by. He obliges your silent request, squatting down beside you.

“Feel how hard you made me?” Hobi chuckles quietly.

The girl giggles, her voice growing closer. “You gonna fuck me right here or what?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Naughty girl. What if my roommate wakes up? Looks like he has a friend over too. You really want them to see what a dirty slut you are?”

You can hear her giggle as he directs her where to go, failing to keep his voice down so you hear every filthy thing he says after. Your hands fly to cover your mouth. Is your skin made of lava? You want to blame it on the close proximity to Jungkook, but the only thing you can imagine is Hoseok’s dick and the eager mystery woman about to be impaled by it. Can you scrub your brain of this memory? How are you supposed to look at him after this?

Jungkook watches your face carefully, trying his hardest not to laugh. Your eyes look so big he’s pretty sure they could roll out of your skull any second. Are you really so innocent? The way you cover your mouth says you are, but maybe it’s just the shock. Maybe you’re just trying to not laugh. Or scream. Or breathe? It kind of looks like you might pass out.

Are you gonna make it, princess? he wonders.

Once you hear Hoseok's bedroom door close, you fuss your hands over your hair and scramble to your feet, releasing a big exhale. The hushed words fall from your lips while you scurry away like a timid mouse. "I should go."

Despite being too far to make contact, he reaches out as you round the counter. "Wait—"

As soon as the word leaves his mouth he struggles to come up with the rest of his statement. There’s no reason to keep you here, except to maybe laugh a little about what just happened to smooth over any second-hand embarrassment. So why doesn’t he want you to go?

He swallows down the blank space caught in his throat and searches every last crevice of his brain for something of import to say. Guilt weighs his gut down, though there isn’t a clear cause. He’s probably screwed something up again without realizing it.

“Thanks for giving me another shot,” he says softly.

You breathe a sigh of relief and offer a tiny smile as you half turn, your hand already on the door handle. “Don’t blow it.”

He nods with a smile. “I won’t. Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” you mumble.

As soon as the door is closed you practically sprint down the hall to lock yourself within your apartment. Maybe it will also lock out all the mistakes your brain has made tonight.

The world feels colder now that you’re not pressed against the human-shaped heater that is Jeon Jungkook. Thinking about him makes your heart swell and ache at the same time. Regardless of how badly you wish you'd asked him to bed, you know loneliness is fleeting and guilt would be a far worse feeling to be saddled with.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook picks up the fallen chair, finding your soft, worn hoodie draped over it. Rubbing a thumb over the material, he considers running it back to you, but he can't remember which door is yours. It's not like he's been here often enough to know. Instead he slips his arms through the sleeves before flipping the hood over his head.

He settles on the floor in the space he previously claimed for the night, pulling a blanket out from under Yoongi's ass. Yoongi rolls his head up, a scowl on his features though his eyes remain closed. He grumbles but lies down, facing the couch.

Jungkook regards his friend for a moment before deciding to drape the blanket over him instead of claiming it for himself. Jungkook rolls onto his side and fluffs the throw pillow under his head. As he watches the credits roll on the TV, he nuzzles into your sweater.

He closes his eyes, thinking of you. He knows he shouldn't linger on the little occurrences of the night, especially with how foggy his brain is. He can't trust anything about his memory.

Still he thinks of the way your fingers trailed along his arm and curled tightly around his bicep. He lets himself dwell on the tiny sound you made, the involuntary tremble of your body, and the subsequent hitch in your breath.

He smiles and inhales the subtle scent you've left behind. A new spark of adrenaline fans flames that inflate his ego, spreading warmth from his stomach up into his chest. The world may wobble around him right now, but the little magical warmth within his gut helps him comfortably drift off to dreamland like he's the world's most immovable object.

#smutcentralnet #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #bts fluff #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic

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cower-before-power · 3 years

Text

Slippery When Wet: Part 2

Summary: An untimely accident in the shower leaves you injured and in need of rescue. Lucky for you, the object of your affections is more than willing to help.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

TW: swearing, nudity, implied sexual content, description of injury (nothing graphic), unintentional voyeurism? (idk i mean like voyeurism in the name of helping i’m not sure how to say it ha), lots of dick talk, prolly really bad sex jokes

Link to A03 here

PART 1 HERE

A/N: First of all, THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO READ, LIKED, REBLOGGED AND COMMENTED ON PART 1. You are all amazing, I am so glad you are enjoying this silly little venture Gojo has dragged me on. Again, thank you so much to @ghost-party for her beta skills, you da best! I hope Part 2 makes you all happy :) please enjoy, sweet potatoes!

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You shouldn’t look. Not because you don’t want to, but if you do you’ll know what is absolutely not warming your bed at night and then you’ll probably just feel worse. But, you were overwhelmingly curious. Just a quick look couldn’t hurt.

Right?

You peek through your fingers, just at his upper half. The sight makes you curse softly under your breath. Of course he’s absolutely beautiful out of clothes, did you really expect anything less?

“If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll get dressed,” he says, “just thought this would help you out.”

Help you out? Good grief this is going to be the star of your late night fantasies for months. Because instead of dreaming it up, you now have the real thing to recall.

“No,” you take a deep breath and drop your hands. “I’m fine.”

Are you though? He’s built to perfection, checking off all the boxes on your “Things I find physically attractive” checklist. You marvel at this long column of his throat, sweeping down into a set of collarbones that would make models die of envy. His chest is hairless (did he wax or was it just naturally that way?), miles of smooth skin and muscle that your fingers were just itching to trace.

Your eyes trail down past his stomach, briefly cataloging the very nice set of abs, before settling on what you were the most curious about.

The snort of laughter escapes your lips before you can stop it.

“Excuse me, did you just look at my dick and laugh?” He asks accusingly, crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry,” you giggle at the disgruntled expression on his face. “It’s just, I’ve always wondered if the carpet matched the drapes since I assumed you dye your hair. Guess I was wrong.”

For the first time since you’ve known him, Gojo Satoru visibly deflates.

“That’s what you’ve thought about?” His voice is full of frustrated disbelief. “My pubic hair?”

You can’t stop giggling. “You can’t blame a girl for being curious! Are you sure you shouldn’t get rid of it though? Doesn’t the white make people think they’re boning an old man?”

“The utter disrespect,” he gasps, shaking his head. “I can assure you that is the last thing on their minds when I’m working my magic.”

You wonder why you aren’t feeling more flustered. The fun and teasing atmosphere feels almost refreshing after the intense back and forth that was just occurring.

“What, you casting spells for dry weather?”

“Oh, you are evil!” He moans, then looks down at himself. “Don’t listen to her, big guy. You know what you can do.”

“For fuck’s sake, don’t talk to it,” you roll your eyes, trying not to grin. “And don’t oversell the merchandise. It’s average, at best.”

(It isn’t. It’s probably the nicest looking one you’ve ever seen. But him and his astronomical ego do not need to know that)

Gojo grabs his chest as if you’ve physically wounded him. “Ouch! Shots fired, target annihilated!”

“You’re such a drama queen,” you sigh. You wonder if he notices the quiet fondness in your voice.

He opens his mouth as if to retaliate, but then suddenly shuts it. A look comes over his face as if he’s just remembered something very interesting and important.

“Hey,” he says, and you watch his mouth spread into a smile. “You said you’d wondered if the carpet matched the drapes. That means you definitely imagined me naked at least once.”

And your blush is back.

“What of it?” You huff, cross your arms and looking away. “It’s only natural. I’ve thought of lots of people naked.”

“Do you ever imagine sleeping with me?”

The question causes you to choke on your breath.

“What-why would you ask that?”

“Inquiring minds want to know.”

You take a look at him, standing naked and unashamed in front of you. His smile is different; there’s a sultry edge to it you’ve never seen before.

“Maybe inquiring minds should stuff it,” you stick out your tongue. Immature, but he’s got you feeling all funny now.

“Well, I’ve thought about it,” he says. “I’ve thought about it quite a lot, actually.”

Your heart misses a beat in your chest.

“You have?” Your voice squeaks as you force the words out.

“Why do you sound so surprised?” He asks, tilting his head like a curious puppy.

You consider the question. You’ve got insecurities, but you know you are a decent looking person. And despite his flightiness about many things, Gojo has actually never given you the impression that he’s shallow in that way.

“I don’t know,” you say truthfully. “I guess I just never considered the possibility that you were interested in me in that way.”

He sighs. “Pumpkin, I’m not blind. You are stupidly attractive. Every time we’re out in Tokyo you’ve got a million guys and gals staring at you.”

“I just always assumed they were staring at your and your stupid blindfold,” you scrub at your cheeks with your palms, trying to rid yourself of some of the perplexing confusion you feel swirling inside you. “How come you’ve never made a move?”

“Would you have wanted me to?”

You want to shout at him, to say of course yes a thousand times yes, but you pause. You realize you’ve never given him any signals, any hint that he was more than just your often annoying friend. Sure, you blushed at his silly flirting, but so did lots of people.

You shift back through your interactions, all the missions, the late night hang outs, the strolls through the city. Nowhere can you find any instant where your ever expanding feelings might have risen to the surface. But still, would your seeming indifference deter him? He was a very self assured man, after all.

“You have confidence coming out your ass, it’s hard to believe you wouldn’t make a move anyways, just to see,” you say instead.

His whole demeanor softens. “I didn’t want to fuck anything up.”

Oh.

OH.

And you know exactly what he means. It’s why you’ve never said anything, why you forced your desires deep down into the pit of your being when in his presence.

It seems even the strongest shaman could be afraid of something.

“It’s not just about fucking, is it?” You ask, feeling your whole body start to tremble.

“It was never just about fucking,” he replies, and it’s like the universe explodes before your very eyes. “Why do you think I spend all my free time with you?”

“To annoy me?” You croak feebly. “To eat all my snacks? To enjoy torturing me by spoiling the end to every movie we watch?”

He chuckles. “Just side bonuses. Being with you is the real prize, pumpkin.”

“Oh,” you whisper, and your brain whirs like an overworked laptop. You’re having trouble processing that this is actually happening, that the man you’ve been pining after for what feels like forever is really standing there, confessing his own feelings.

Buck ass naked.

“You’ve got two options right now,” Gojo takes a step closer to you, and you shiver at the dominant aura that suddenly swirls around him. “Either I get dressed and we put today behind us, or I come over there and kiss you until you can’t remember your own name. Make your choice.”

Was there even a choice? There was only one option. A slow, warm feeling blooms in the middle of your chest and spreads outwards, dousing your whole shaking body in molten yearning. It’s not a new feeling, but the sensations are different. Because now you can give in to it.

“Kiss me,” you blurt out, breathless and giddy. “Get the fuck over here and kiss me.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

A flash of a savage grin, the soft thump of footsteps and then you are numb to everything but him.

He tastes like sugary coffee and chapstick, lips hard and hot against yours as he kisses you like he’ll die if he stops. He’s everywhere at once, in all your senses, drowning you in his onslaught of desirous fervour. It’s not a timid kiss of new sweethearts; it’s a passionate embrace of long overdue lovers.

Your hands run over every inch of him they can reach, mapping the ridges and valleys of his exposed skin. His own slip beneath your shirt to spread across your back, crushing you to him with a grip of iron. It’s not enough; you want them everywhere, you want him everywhere, until he’s branded onto your body. Until you no longer know where you end and he begins. Until he’s sunken himself into your very bones.

You need to breathe- you pull away with a gasp, one gossamer thread of saliva lazily trailing after you.

“Why didn’t we do that sooner?” You pant, digging your nails into his arms. He’s unwilling to keep his mouth off you, now pressing scalding kisses along your jaw.

“Blame it on mutual stupidity,” he sighs into your skin, teeth slightly grazing the spot just below your ear. “Let’s make up for lost time, eh?”

“I’m game,” you say, a soft whine leaving your lips as he works steadily on what is sure to become a bruise.

“Good,” he murmurs, swiping his tongue across the blossoming mark before leaning back to smirk at you. “Have to make you take back all your snarky comments about me and my game.”

You giggle. “Oh, so you’re saying it won’t be as dry as a desert ‘round here?”

“Well let me just check tonight’s weather report,” he laughs, grinning cheekily as he slips a hand down between your legs, brushing gently over the front of your underwear. You bite your lip, grip on his biceps tightening.

“Ladies and gentleman, we’re in for a wet night,” he says in what you assume is his best weatherman voice. “Expect a great deal of precipitation, more so than what’s already accumulated. Perhaps we’ll even see some flooding. We’re talking possibly record setting levels here.”

You snort with laughter, pushing at him slightly. “You are such an idiot. Just shut up and put your money where your mouth is.”

“Oh, I intend to put my mouth in a lot of different places,” he removes his hand, snapping the elastic band of your underwear against your hip as he goes. “I know I just got you into these, but shall I undress you now?”

“Yes please,” you nod eagerly, already wiggling out of your shirt. He quickly helps remove the offending garment, but in all the lust and excitement you’ve forgotten about your shoulder, and you moan in pain when you jostle it.

“Owwwwwwie, stupid shoulder!”

“Shhh, pumpkin,” Gojo coos gently, leaning down to pepper the area with kisses. “It’s okay, I’m here. I’m going to take such good care of you.”

You feel yourself melt at the sudden tender display, and you can’t help but run your fingers through his luscious hair as he continues to smother your bruised shoulder in affection. “You already are, Satoru.”

The first name slips out unexpectedly, but you like the way it rolls off your tongue. He seems to as well, judging by the pleased noise that rumbles from his chest.

“Well, allow me to continue then,” he purrs, and his lips leave your shoulder to capture yours in another toe curling kiss. You press yourself to him, the feel of his bare skin against yours sending a thrill shooting down your spine.

An idea suddenly pops into your head.

“I never got to finish my shower,” you break your kiss to speak, looking up at him under your lashes.

He catches on immediately, his smile once again turning primal. It makes your knees weak and your gut clench in anticipation.

“Maybe you should help me, since I’m injured and all,” you push yourself even closer to him, shivering at the feeling of his not-so-average excitement pressing against your belly.

“Hmmmm, I could do that,” he’s already got his fingers hooked in your underwear, slowly starting to push them down your hips. “But what if you slip again?”

“Well, you’ll just have to catch me then,” you wink at him. “With your dick.”

He roars with laughter, and your heart has never been more full.

“Oh, I’ll do more than just catch you, pumpkin,” he growls playfully, and before you can blink he’s rid you of your bottoms and swept you up into his arms. “I’m going to absolutely wreck you.”

You reach up to kiss him as he pounds towards the bathroom, your blood on fire and only one thought in your head.

Bless that stupid, slippery, wonderful bar of soap.

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Taglist: @satorudicks @sara-nyaa @dixonsbugaboo @fandomtrash100 @oikusa-snow @okemis @kuxredere @mylittleteddybear @the-fandoms-georgie @inaflashimagine @crapimahuman @elenapri0502 @fragments-of-aria @bollywoodghoul @wrdro @kiasnotforever @disregardedbymybias @lavihs @euniartsu @satjsstuff @lycorizzz @fushigurosimp @levisbrat1 @bxstboy-tetsu @one-leaf-grimoire @glxar (sorry i just tagged everyone who asked and commented haha, bold means I couldn’t tag you sorry!)

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagine #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #gojo satoru fic #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #jjk gojo satoru #jjk anime #my writing

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tothemeadow · 3 years

Text

Art trade with @azurenocturne

Art originally done by @ Lsjenjen on twitter

Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader

- Kyojuro decides to take your relationship to the next level while teaching you how utterly amazing you are, no matter what anyone else says. -

warnings: NSFW, oral sex, mentions of emotional abuse, Douma is kind of a dickhead

words: 2k

“You’re doing it again.”

Snapping away from your reverie, you nearly drop your phone as you fumble around, embarrassment heating up your insides. You hadn’t even realized you were spacing out again. Still, Douma cracks a smile. You tense as he reaches over the table, the rings adorning his fingers catching the afternoon light streaming in through the windows. He merely pats the crown of your head with a gentle touch; you know that this is all for show since the two of you are in public. While Douma has never struck you during the course of your relationship, he isn’t gentle either.

“Stupid girl,” he mutters. “There isn’t anything that important in your life to distract you this much.”

Ah, there it is.

You’re used to the biting words, the snarky comments, the endless insults. On some days, it’s like his sole mission in life is to yell at you constantly, but what can you do about it? It is your fault, after all. Maybe if you had your head on straight or weren’t so sensitive, things could be better for you in life.

You swallow dryly. The plate of half-eaten food sitting in front of you doesn’t even look appetizing anymore. “I’ve got exams coming up, you know that,” you tell him, voice low. You know better than to talk back to him, especially when you’re in public like this.

With a scoff, Douma leans back in his seat. It’s unfair that he’s still unbelievably attractive even when irritated; strong jaw set, eyes heavy lidded, and birch hair pulled up high, he looks like he’s ready to set foot out on the runway rather than be sitting here on a lunch date with you. The houndstooth material of his jacket ruffles as he crosses his arms. He’s just so pretty, incredibly so, and you’d be damned if you said you couldn’t bear to stare at him all day.

“Well, you’re with me,” he spits. “Exams be damned.”

“Douma, you know I can’t fail these courses if I want to graduate-“

“I don’t care,” Douma interrupts. “Christ, all I did was ask you out to lunch, and all you do is think about it your classes? What am I, chopped liver?”

“No,” you say frantically, “of course not. I’m sorry. Please… Please don’t be mad.”

Douma sighs. His expression softens, then; getting up from his chair, he opts to take the spot next to you instead. “I know you’re sorry, my little cherub. You know all I want to do is to be stuck in that pretty little head of yours, right?” With a gentle hum, he slings an arm around your shoulder and nuzzles the top of your head. “You’ll be a good girl for me, won’t you?”

It’s those simple words that makes your tummy flutter and the ice around your heart to melt. This is why you love Douma, after all. Sure, he can be mean sometimes, but he means well.

A smile blossoms across your face as you lean into his warmth. “I promise.”

When it comes to playing life, you always act the fool.

Words are cheap, enough said. It just so happens that Douma’s are practically dirt.

Although he knows you’re sorry about focusing on your studies lately, it’s almost if he never drops the subject. He has a point though – he is your boyfriend, after all. It’s just your fault that you have the improper abilities of juggling your love life and schooling at the same time. It’s when he’s attending his own classes that you’re finally able to breathe, even though you feel guilty about thinking that way in the first place.

You still can’t shake off the guilt as you venture through the school’s library, browsing for books your professor recommended for you to better understand the material. It’s a slow process, your eyes scanning over each of the exposed spines. “No… no… no… “ you say to yourself, the quiet mantra continuing on while your search comes up with nothing. “Dammit, why can’t I – ah!”

Before you know it, your body is colliding into someone else’s; as you’re about to take an inevitable tumble and land on your ass, a strong hand grasps onto your forearm while another lands on the small of your back.

“Whoa there! Sorry about that!” a deep, attention-getting voice whisper-yells.

As you open your eyes (you didn’t even realize you closed them to begin with), your met with a boy around your age, eyes bright and blond hair held back with a backwards ballcap. As he flashes you a cheeky smile, you’re struck by how white his teeth are compared to his golden skin, the sharp line of his jaw. Your heart thuds in your chest, and for good reason, too – this man is hot.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” this stranger continues. He pulls you upright, making sure you’re properly balanced before giving you a onceover to check for any bruises.

“I’m alright, thank you,” you say awkwardly. It’s incredible how quickly your body heats up under his gaze despite literally just bumping into the guy. “I wasn’t paying attention anyway, it’s all my fault-“

“Hey,” he interrupts, his eyes crinkling even further, “I wasn’t paying attention either. Don’t take all the blame for yourself, eh?” He sticks out a hand, then, the prominent veins in his forearm and hand instantly catching your attention. “Rengoku Kyojuro, at your service. You can just call me Kyojuro, though.”

Kyojuro.

The name rolls around your brain like a loose bolt. You wonder how it tastes on your tongue, how your lips feel when you say it. “Kyojuro,” you say, testing it out. You immediately decide you like it. Grasping onto his hand, you introduce yourself, an easy smile making its way onto your features before you even realize it. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Right back at ya,” he chirps.

His hand is large and warm. In fact, heat seems to radiate off his body, tempting you to lean in and hold him close.

“Say,” Kyojuro says, a hopeful glint shining in his eyes, “do you want to grab a coffee or something?”

Your heart nearly gets stuck in your throat. For a moment, you think of Douma and what he would he say if he found out about you grabbing coffee with some other guy. However, Kyojuro just seems so nice and, well, perfect.

“Yeah,” you tell him, “I’d love to.”

After that fateful meeting, things started to change.

During the free moments you had, you would meet up with Kyojuro, either to go out to eat or simply have a study session together. You quickly found yourself thoroughly enjoying his company, and all for the right reasons. Despite his excitable, bold behavior, he was kind, more so than most people you know. You craved to be in his presence, to have his pearly smile directed at you. Hell, even the thought of him made your heart throb.

Of course, it didn’t take long for Douma to start noticing your “odd” behavior. You acted distant whenever the two of you were together, so much more… closed. What really got him, though, was when he confronted you about it. I found someone else, you had told him, face and voice equally solemn. This is the end of us. Even you were shocked by the mere fact that you had dumped him; after all this time, you were finally free of his cruel words and the endless pain.

“You’re doing it again, sweetie.”

Just like that, you’re snapping back to reality and away from your thoughts. “Sorry,” you mutter, “I was just thinking of… things.”

Even after a few months of ditching Douma for Kyojuro, you still find yourself spacing out. Kneeling on the bed like this, your hand hangs in the air, absentmindedly holding a brush while the other is still holding onto Kyojuro’s blond locks. Turning around fully, Kyojuro’s thick brows furry together as a glint of worry sparks in his eyes. “Hey, hey, look at me,” he urges, taking your face into his hands. “I am not Douma. I’ll never be like him, you got it?” Gently stroking your cheek, he flashes you a soft smile. “I couldn’t bear to put you in pain like that, my sweets. You’re too special for anything like that.”

Oh god, he’s so gentle, so freaking sweet that you’ll get a toothache. As cheesy as it sounds, your heart yearns for him, for his promises, and for his loving touches. You don’t think you’ve ever met someone like this in your life.

“So please,” Kyojuro continues, gaze dropping to your mouth, “trust me.”

And you do. For the love of everything high and mighty, you trust this guy with your entire being. The kiss you two share starts off slow, yet it’s so full of unspoken feeling that it makes your heart soar. You can’t deny the fact that his hands feel good as they trail lower, brushing over your neck and shoulders before settling on your waist. Hell, you love it when he presses you onto your back, his weight hovering over you protectively. Like this, Douma can’t hurt you. Douma can’t even get near you, not when Kyojuro is around, not when he’s treating you this softly.

It didn’t take very long for you to confide in Kyojuro about how your relationship with Douma went. Appalled by Douma’s so-called methods, Kyojuro promised to treat you like the queen you are because you deserve it.

Even as you quake, Kyojuro holds you steady. And he’s always so warm, so wonderfully warm as he rids you of your shirt before following suit. Your fingers drift over the swell of his pectorals, the divots of his abs. Now, things have escalated between you two before, but nothing to this extent. The last person you slept with was Douma, and even then he would degrade you and make you feel like utter trash. But no, not with Kyojuro. Never with Kyojuro.

“You’re gorgeous,” he mutters, mouth slanting over your neck and down your chest. Your heart quickens as mouths your breasts, hands slipping around and unhooking your bra. “And you’re so soft and sweet…” Trailing off, he lifts himself back up, his eyes meeting yours. “You’re perfect, (y/n). I’ll be damned if anybody tells you differently.”

Heart leaping to your throat, you sling your arms around his broad shoulders and pull him back into a kiss. You refuse to let yourself shed any tears, but you can’t deny the dampness gathering in your eyes.

“Pretty girl,” Kyojuro says, mouth beginning its descent once more. This time, he carries on past your chest, lips brushing against your tummy as he carefully removes your pants. Your fingers comb through his hair as little gasps slip through your lips; nuzzling you through your panties, he openly gropes your thighs and ass, deep, rumbling moans vibrating in his chest.

“Kyojuro,” you breathe, back arching as he yanks down your panties and presses his mouth against your quivering pussy. His movements remain slow, but the deep stroke of his tongue inside your pussy or the strong suckling on your clit has you seeing stars. His bright eyes never leave your face, a lustful yet loving expression carved into his handsome features. A slight yank on his hair has him redoubling his efforts; easily bending your thighs to your chest, he works at your pussy vigorously, the lewd noises and his husky groans filling your ears.

“So fucking perfect,” he mutters, thick fingers slipping past your folds. You keen at the touch, your velvety walls fluttering around his digits. “You’re wonderful, my sweets,” he coos, pressing his mouth to the inside of your knee in a quick kiss. “I love you.”

“Kyojuro, please,” you pant. The tears building up in your eyes finally break free as you reach out towards him. “Make love to me… won’t you?”

Drawing away from your dripping pussy, Kyojuro hovers over you, a dazzling grin painted on his face. “Are you sure about that?”

You nod frantically. “Yes. I… I trust you, my love.”

Hearing the pet name tumble from your mouth has Kyojuro’s eyes crinkling. “Anything for you, sweetie,” he purrs, reaching down and undoing his pants. “Everything for you.”

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro rengoku #commission #art trade #azurenocturne

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jjungkooksthighs · 4 years

Text

Claws of Carnality | jjk (2)

Pairing: alpha jungkook x omega reader

Genre: smut, fluff and angst, abo/werewolf, fantasy

Rating: 18+ / nsfw

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: mentions of violence (hunting), mentions of sex this chapter is really tame but it’s set up so yeah

Summary: In the aftermath of your presentation, you recollect on some the dreams that had been visited by the alpha you have met to meet. What happens when he makes good on his promise and finds you?

A/N: OKAY SO I REALLY FEEL LIKE THIS SUCKS, BUT HEY, THIS GIF APPLIES TO THIS CHAPTER IF YOU SQUINT! Let me know if you guys like this and I will write more. If not, I can always just leave this where it is (which is fine, but alpha koo is so cool to write omg)

part 1 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9

By the time that you’ve finished scrubbing away the evidence signaling your growth into maturity, the soiled sheets containing such proof had been stripped from your bed to be replaced with new, freshly laundered ones. To keep the essence of you there would firstly be unsanitary, but it was also a means of caution put in place to keep unwanted alphas from attempting to lay their claim on an unmated omega before one could be presented to all the available potential candidates. Part of you wonders if your alpha had caught your scent in all the bustle that surely was going on, for you surely had caught his even if you didn’t know what he looked like even what his name was.

Dark hair colored like the earth’s floor surfaces through your mind as you peer down at the article of clothing your grandmother must have laid out for you while you’d been bathing, a wave of excitement falling over you as you quickly set about putting it on. You fasten it with practiced ease after many years of helping your own omegean friends into their own unique pre-ceremonial dress.

It is a custom of your pack that, on the eve of the Offering Ceremony, newly presented omegas wear clothing that pays respect to the moon that guides the shifting, hunting and gathering of the wolves while also paying homage to the celestial system that, in the ancient legends, would selectively steer the most compatible of hearts towards one another in the tales of soulmates that would lead their pack into prosperity for generations to come.

It was said that the truest of a pair would complete each other in body and mind, their wolves complementing each other like the yin and yang of peace that was so desired amongst your kind.

As you pull your arms through the black lace that covers a fine silk of the same color, you can’t help but to notice the way the underlying material shimmers in the sunny light that glints off it in the small constellation of silvery spritzes to the silk that mirror the stars that, in the dark color of the body of the dress, perfectly recaptures the night sky. In the modestly cut ‘V’ style of the bodice, the trim on each side eventually intersects where the skirt begins and is colored a rich chrome color after the moon.

It matches with the thin band that crosses horizontally over your stomach to hold the bodice closed. Below that, your skirt is fitted just enough that it doesn’t hug your skin, but it is open enough to let air trail between your legs as it stops just along the underside of your knees. You make sure to tie a thick matching silk choker over your neck to nearly cover it in its entirety in effort to complete your ensemble, for it is another custom that newly presented omegas must partake in that you have to obey.

Such was put in place to lessen the temptation of alphas to try to scent an omega, for the show of skin in such an intimate place for wolves that were unmarked was a declaration of intent. To walk around without such a covering was dangerous, for it often would ensue fights between alphas and betas over the omega that had been unheedful of such consequences.

You did not want to be involved in attention like that, for you had always been a quiet, shy presence throughout your years on the compound. What your heart did long for, however, was to find its equal and thus to bask in the notice of he who had visited you in your fantasy, of he who had promised to find you. You truthfully had no idea who he was, but he was no stranger to your dreams. Well, he hadn’t been since the eclipse, anyway.

The first time you’d seen him, he’d been laying on his back while staring at the stars you enjoyed connecting the constellations of within the middle of a forest clearing, the silvery moonlight illuminating him in an ethereal light that had him glowing in radiance.

You’d been tentative to encroach on him and, in your timidity, had tried sinking back into the shadows only to snap a twig under your feet. He’d sat up quicker than lightning, his muscles tensed and ready to pounce as brilliant golden irises darted to the source of the sound only to pierce your own as you’d sucked in a breath at how deep and beautiful his eyes were despite how profoundly they dug interestedly into your own, effectively halting you were you stood as he rose from his place on the forest floor.

Your legs had been rooted in place under his commanding gaze and he’d cocked his head to the side like the wolf he was while he’d appraised you, your heart racing as you watched his brows knit together in confusion the picture of his ideal mate paired with the concoction of smells that coalesced into something that was uniquely your own yet had him drawn like a magnet in how deliciously your aroma swirled under his nostrils, his own pulse quickening as he instinctively lowered his head as you tilted yours back in silent submission that pulled at every fiber of your being in the presence of such a strong, handsome alpha.

It had been instant. His eyes widened when he’d daringly nudged at exposed your scent gland, his irises growing in size at the poignantly tempting aroma of you that clung salaciously to his lungs and very being. In turn, you gasped when the strong headiness of him insistently prodded at you until you were overtaken by its delicious amalgamation of smells, your muscles relaxing at the same time his did a turn of events that you did not understand for you believed it was all just a dream.

The second time you’d seen him, he’d found you next to a steady, crystalline stream with the moon as your light source and upon offering you his hand with some coaxing, he had led you through a field of flowers colored after every hue in the rainbow as he told you how you’d enchanted him with your beauty and scent that had so begun to saturate his every thought, his adulations rapidly bolstering your confidence in the sureness with which he declared them.

The third time, he’d followed you to a creek and had watched you dip your feet into the cool water that was such a balm to the hot air of the night only to step further into the body of water and be embraced by it still clothed in the dress that made you shine brighter than the moon in his eyes. It was you who had eventually asked him to join you after reddened cheeks and stuttered breaths upon realizing he’d been looking at nothing but you the entire time with brightened, enlarged irises.

Somehow, his competitive nature had stoked your playful side and before long, you were splashing each other with water and laughing heartily until your foot had caught on a sharp rock and you’d yelped in pain. Concern had been quick to shift his expression, not that you could that under the mop of hair that had veiled the upper part of his face, but you could hear the emotion in his voice as he reassured you that it would be okay before, to your surprise, he’d wrapped one arm around your back and another under your legs to carry you like some kind of bride before you setting you down on a rock to rip at the edge of his shirt in a show of strength that had your insides turning to mush as he promptly wrapped it around your foot while asking if you were alright and if you were in pain.

An irrational need to clear the worry away from him filled you and before you’d let yourself think about it, you’d laid your hand over his to thank him, not thinking too much on the way his skin was so hot to the touch. As if your words were the medicine he needed, the emotion drained away while you both had stared at each other. You hadn’t realized you’d been leaning forward until you nearly collapsed on top of him, lost as you had been in those expressive eyes of his.

The fourth time, you’d been incapable of resisting his call of howls only to find him thrashing in a cave growling for you. It was as if someone was hurting him from the inside in the pitch of his sounds, but you didn’t have any idea what to do. His shirt had been torn all over and in the dim light that reached into the cave, you thought you could make out the etchings of the extensive muscles that lined his chest, your mouth watering at the sight and yet you’d blamed on being in need of water in your inexperience to know what your body was doing.

You had stayed by his side regardless to bring him water and edible plants that you’d gathered in his lack of exiting the confined space, fondness for him swelling within you in your want to take away whatever pain was wracking him. You’d not been aware of what he wanted and the fact that neither of you had exchanged names made it difficult to console him since you were simply the girl from his dreams to him (or so you thought).

The fifth time, it had been you who had been sequestered to a grassy, woody den in the forest. Your body had quivered with need for something that you had yet to ascertain, but your companion had stayed true to you just as you had to him. Compassion shined in those golden irises as you’d wailed, your arms crossing over your stomach as you rolled back and forth irrationally in the tremors that violently shook your body. When you’d needed new foliage to lay on, he’d gotten it for you. When you’d wanted the cool creek water to be poured over your burning skin, he’d done that, too.

And when you’d asked for some meat to eat, it had taken all but five minutes for him to secure five rabbits that you ate the majority of in your insatiable hunger that only seemed to stretch on the more that you drank him in.

All had preceded the fantasy you’d had last night and you try to piece them together in what they could possibly mean as you grab what your thin arms can carry between pillar candles and tea-lights. You don’t stop stuffing them between your arms until you’re sure you can’t possibly carry any more, and every omega that passes by the storage closet in the omegean den where you currently are makes sure to congratulate as they pass much to the reddening of your cheeks at some overly obscene remarks of what is likely to come. It’s all so new and thrilling to you.

You’re honestly a little surprised that they all already know that you’d woken to the taint of your essence lathered all over you, but such is the way of things in that news spreads like wildfire amidst the close comraderies of omegas.

It should make you feel uncomfortable, but such monumental events are looked at as blessings amongst your pack and in the bustle of energy that the sudden ceremony has sparked in everyone, you can only feel the excited surges of anticipation as you and you alone begin to set about the preparations for the event at the break of dawn since you’d been the final omega in your rank and age group to present.

Through it all, you never lose the subtle trail of him, his scent lingering just enough for you to find yourself trying to move toward its origin, but never thick enough to pinpoint him completely despite your wolf urging you to continually to go to him, to find him.

You wonder what your alpha could be doing right now and what he might be thinking as you make your way through the green grasses that open up to frame the circular wooden stage that is overlooked by the timbered den of the elders. It is an impressive structure in how very imposing and tall it stands and the stage itself is longer, you are sure, than five meters across and back.

There are already stone braziers set strategically next to the stage that are used for annual selections for unbonded pairs of wolves and initiations of pups, but you can’t deny your favorite use for it would be the dance performances that are put on to celebrate each event.

Amongst the alphas in your pack, Park Jimin, Jung Hoseok and Kim Taehyung are among the three bachelors that woo all of the omegas and betas in the compound with the calculated ways they move their bodies that successfully has everyone, even you, swooning.

However, can’t say they hold a candle to the one alpha, in particular, that some believe to be an apparition in how little he is seen despite the fact that every time you catch his shadow, he’s always stolen away your breath and ability to think straight. The way that this alpha moves, in specific, demands your attention in how expressively calculated he is in his artistic movements that combine modern and old dance into a style that is completely his own.

You have only seen him perform twice, but by the moon above, you would never forget it. Each time, you swear his golden irises have shot through the whole crowd of screaming women and even men straight into you only to sink deliciously into you as he dances. It has set your blood alight each time, your pulse quickening in exhilaration at the prospect of that he may have noticed you.

You had noticed him first for this and, hungrily wanting to learn more about the enigmatic figure that could disappear without a trace for months on end without being seen or heard from, you had come to find out through utterances of longing by many omegeans that he was the pack alpha’s son, which made him next in line for assuming control over the entire compound.

You had also come to discover that, among his looks that were crafted by the gods, he came from a pedigree only of purebreds. This meant that he was one among the seven alphas- including the three bachelors already fawned over amongst the compound-in your pack that were gifted with bolstered speed, strength and abilities of which the majority of alphas today did not possess. Such made them extremely desirable to many of the omegas and betas, but for the life of you, you couldn’t see how they were any different from a regular alpha.

As you set out the tealights along the edges of the stage, you can’t help but to ponder why the alpha that had anchored himself to your thoughts long before your dreams is coming to your mind now and it’s when you’ve placed a pillar candle from under your arm onto the mounted holder, that’s when your thoughts are halted.

In the distance, you can discern the pervasively pungent stench of alphas and that’s when your eyes widen. You had forgotten that because of the Offering Ceremony, it was tradition for alphas to go on a hunt at the crack of dawn in effort to make a show of their prowess and ability to provide. This was done in effort to please or attract potential mates in the kills they would secure and gift to their selected omega or beta. You chastise yourself for taking too long, for an unmated omega was not supposed to be in the vicinity of an unbonded alpha due to the pheromones that could cause a premature heat. Your body is unstable right and now and that’s why-

Amongst the flurry of odors that pervade your sensitive nose, there is one that you pick up on, one that wafts deliciously like fresh cookies under your nostrils and around you before caressing your skin with the gentle wind that carries it to you. It is gently insistent in the way it encourages you to turn, to move. You’ve smelled this scent before, you know that you have.

Distantly, in the back of your mind, something tries to poke at your consciousness, but you pay it no mind as you try to complete your task futilely as the aroma whisks itself over you like whipped cream as it inches closer and closer, the soft crunching sound of grass underneath feet growing louder as it does.

You try to take deep breaths and regulate the shallow rise and fall of your chest that is not aided by the hope that twists heavily in your gut and when you clumsily try to make it appear as if you’re doing something constructive, you manage to knock the white pillar candle off of its place so that it lands on the ground with a thud.

Without thinking, you turn only to for you to hitch your breath as the solid planes of a golden and salaciously chiseled chest take up your vision. Your mouth goes dry when your irises dip downward at how obscenely low his ebony shirt dips with one side crossed over the other in a style that isn’t entirely different from the bodice you now wear save for the fact that it is a darker shade of black and is held together by a thicker band that circles a slim, hourglass shaped waist.

The lapels of his garment fold over each other and are accentuated by the charcoal colored pelt that lines his shoulders and trail lengthily down his body to cease around calves covered by dark black trousers that hug his corded thighs lewdly and you have to shut your mouth to stifle the sound of appreciation your body had traitorously wanted to release. If you had spit, you probably would lick your lips, but you don’t. Instead, you settle for trying to swallow the sudden lump in your throat, which is also non-yielding of the result you’d wanted.

“You know, I heard you omegas weren’t supposed to be near us big, bad alphas so soon,” he rumbles amusedly as your heart stutters at the familiar voice, “So, what are you doing out here all alone, pretty?”

You gulp animatedly, your irises refusing to move from the canvas of his chest because you know where you’ve heard that voice before, you realize as your skin pebbles in response to the same deep voice that drips deliciously atop it as your wolf cries for you to answer, to submit.

“I-I… I was setting up for the c-ceremony, that’s all.” You stutter as the alpha in front of you chuckles, the sound making your blood sing in response to the melodious sound as his golden irises inspect your familiar features, surety setting in for him that you really are her, the girl from his dream.

“Ah, so you are.” He muses as he cocks his head interestedly at you.

He had chosen to lead the alphas to a different hunting location today because he believed a new area would be a rich hunting ground, but he’d also come this way for another reason. As a purebred alpha, his nose was far better than any average alpha. Therefore, despite the clothes that you wear of which the threads of your dress have been dipped into oils that mask your own potent pheromones he knows to be on overdrive since your presentation, they are still ineffective in putting off his strong nostrils in how easy it had been to detect and find you like he’d wanted to.

His lips curl up when you fidget in a way exactly like she had, your hands clasping nervously together along your front and he’s struck with the irrational want to have you feel less distressed in his presence, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable around him.

The more pressing thing though is to look upon those eyes of yours that he’s been so bewitched by, for he hasn’t yet looked up those entrancing irises that had belonged to her and has to make sure, his wolf clawing at him now to find out as his deep voice fills the space between you, your own wolf preening under the attention as he says, “Come now, pretty omega, won’t you look at me? I won’t bite.”

With way that his velvety voice envelops you, you really can’t bring yourself to do anything but obey as your slowly trail your gaze along his Adam’s apple that is so defined it makes you want to salivate before continuing your ascent up to perfectly plump, soft lips crafted by the stars themselves. Those same lips had done so much to you in your dreams and images of it flash through your mind as you take a shaky breath that he mirrors in the anticipation that is nearly palpable in how heavy it settles over you both. When you finally settle your gaze on those golden irises that had taken up such a permanent residence in your thoughts, that’s when he utters, “Well, would you look at that...I always knew it would be you, but I never would’ve thought this would happen.”

At the same time that you had peered into his eyes while he gazed curiously at you, your irises had changed from the silver of the moon he had always been bewildered by to the gold of the sun like his own. In the exact moment, you’d witnessed his own do the same, his eyes changing to the color of your own.

Jungkook has always taken pride in his abilities as a purebred. They’d never steered him wrong before and they hadn’t now, either. It is why he hadn’t doubted the magnetizing pull that had brought him here as encouraged by his nose that could track anything. It is also why his very being is colored with entertainment at your cute reaction that he’d had some inkling of some time ago.

What is a pleasant surprise, however, is the fact that the moon itself has chosen you as his mate in the gift it had bestowed on the two of you. And as his eyes rove over you, he can’t help but grin. He’d always had his eye set on you, anyway.

You gasp in incredulity when you realize what’s just happened and to whom it has happened with as you fall back against the stage, completely floored by the howling of your wolf to go to him and accept it.

You’re just supposed to accept the fact that the alpha you’ve pined so badly for has been selected for you by the moon itself in the legendary soulmate’s gift of sight, which allows two fated wolves to see their eyes in the mate that completes them. You’re just supposed to casually accept that your fated mate is the alpha that everyone wants, including you. You’re just meant to easily believe that the alpha you begged to be claimed by while he had his cock rammed inside you within your fantasy is Jeon fucking Jungkook and that he’s your alpha.

As you splutter and try to find anything to say in the shock that will soon leave your legs trembling, the alpha just smirks as he cards a hand through his hair in a display that has you licking at your lips despite everything as he flicks a brow, “What’s wrong, pretty? Cat got your tongue?”

#werewolf!jungkook #bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #bts #jungkook #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts abo

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edens-breathless-melodies-moved · 4 years

Text

words: 4k

pairing: suna r. x f!reader

prompt: cock warming

warnings: cock warming, edging, exactly one (1) spank, reader being a lowkey brat, suna lowkey being a dick (nothing new here, folks)

summary: suna never realized just how tiring it was to play for a division one team. giving his hundred and twenty percent everyday really wore him down, and all he wanted was to relax. so what better way to do that than by surrounding himself with you?

exhausted could not even begin to describe how tired suna was. the amount of fatigue he felt as he trudged through the door to your shared home wasn’t even measurable, and you could feel it emanating from his weary body the moment he stepped through the door.

you frowned softly at your boyfriend’s run down figure, narrow eyes looking downright zombie-ish as he slouched into the living room.

a weak “i’m home” barely registered in your ears, and your heart ached for him, knowing how tiring practice could be.

you had been in the kitchen just finishing up dinner when you heard the sound of keys being entered into the lock.

you were excited to see your boyfriend after being alone for a majority of the day, and it was understandable that you practically launched out of the kitchen to greet him when he entered.

recently he’s been spending more and more time at practice as one of his big games drew closer, and you can’t really blame him for wanting to perfect everything before the game. you adored how serious he takes the sport.

but if you’re being honest with yourself, you have been feeling rather needy lately, and suna spending so much time away wasn’t helping.

suna would disappear from your shared bed just as the sun was rising, pressing a chaste but loving kiss against your sleepy forehead before whispering he’ll be back.

and sometimes he wouldn’t arrive back home until well after dark, barely having enough energy to pull you to his chest before drifting off, exhausted from the day’s training.

you know he feels bad for not being able to spend as much time with you lately, and although you brushed it off by saying you didn’t mind, he wanted to make it up to you.

so when you awoke that morning to find that suna had already left, you felt bummed that you missed his good morning kiss until you checked your phone.

you saw a text from him sent at nearly 06:30 in the morning, about two hours earlier than when he’d normally leave for practice.

sunarin 🐱 💦 06:28 - i convinced coach to start practice a little earlier so me nd the rest of the team could have a early night in. i love you dork, see u when i get home

the excited screech you let out would’ve woken up the neighbors if you had any around you, and you could barely contain your glee at having your sleepy eyes boyfriend home early for once.

the rest of the day was a blur as you rushed around your cozy home tidying up and preparing dinner, different scenarios running through your head about what you two were gonna do when he finally got home.

your thighs clenched slightly at the thought of finally have suna all to yourself in the bedroom, and your need for him to come home was reaching an all time high. ‘finally, we can do more than just a quick kiss…’

but the moment those usually sharp pale yellow eyes locked tiredly with yours, dull and exhausted, it was understandable that you felt a twinge of disappointment and frustration as you silently resigned yourself to a quiet and early night in.

deep down you knew it wasn’t his fault that his coach drained them until they were dry, so you swallowed your disappointment the moment you felt it.

you could always have him to yourself another night.

although you were practically a master at hiding your true emotions to anyone, slapping on a smile and kind eyes that could fool even the toughest detective, suna rintarou was not just anyone.

he could see the traces of disappointment and sexual frustration lurking behind your warm eyes as you offered him a soothing and genuine smile, rushing over to grab his sports bag to put away.

he watched the way you gazed at him with adoration as you gave him a sweet kiss on his check before going to hang his bag in the room, telling him to relax and that you’d bring him dinner in a sec.

you may convince everyone and even yourself, but you couldn’t get past him.

after being by your side for nearly twenty years, suna could confidently say that he was good at reading you, even the you that you tried to hide away.

~~~~

you and suna rintarou were a classic case of childhood best friends to lovers. your mothers were practically attached at the hips since their childhood, so it only made sense for the two of you to be inseparable since birth.

thankfully, you guys ended up getting along with each other, and you two became attached at the hips as well just like your mothers, maybe even more so.

watching the two of you interact with one another as you grew up was always an amusing sight to your cooing parents who were secretly hoping you two would end up together when you were older.

suna and you complimented each other unknowingly. he was always the ice to your fire, the moon to your sun; always there to bring counter you whenever your emotions got the best of you.

while you both were generally well behaved and good children, your mannerisms couldn’t be more unlike each other if you tried.

where suna was usually an indifferent and relaxed child, going with the flow and never starting a fuss, you were always known to be a bit of a crybaby, your emotions overruling your logic sometimes.

at age seven, when your parents had told the two of you that you couldn’t go to the park when you asked because the sun was getting ready to set and it was getting late out, they already knew what was going to happen.

your cute little bottom lip would jut out and begin to quiver and your eyes would begin to tear up, and both sets of parents just sighed as they prepared to deal with another one of your rare cases of bratiness.

so imagine their surprise when little suna, always so passive and indifferent, came up to your trembling form and wrapped his arms around you in a loose hug.

he was muttering how the two of you could go to the park tomorrow as he continued hugging you, pale eyes narrowed softly as he calmed you down with his words.

both parents watched in shock at how quickly suna was able to bring you down from your impending tantrum with just a hug and a couple of choice sentences.

your mothers choked on their spit while your fathers stifled their laughs when they heard suna mumble out “and please don’t cry, you always get snot everywhere.”

from that day forward, suna became your pacifier. whenever things were about to turn ugly and your lip began to tremble or your eyes had that fire in them, it was always suna who swooped in and brought you back down to earth.

(as the two of you got older, his choice of words to calm you down evolved as well, so don’t worry)

the two of you never left each other’s sides all throughout elementary school, and even when most kids branch off in middle school, especially a girl/boy duo, the two of you yet again shocked your parents by sticking through.

this continued on into high school as well, and both of you continued to hide your growing feelings for one another, never revealing them until your second year at inarizaki high.

suna was quick to convince you to become the team’s manager when he joined the boys volleyball club, and the team loved your sweet but feisty and sarcastic attitude.

when growing up with suna rintarou as your best friend, you had to have some backbone to combat his dry humor and biting teases.

the members of the club adored you, some a little more than others.

miya atsumu had a gift for pisisng people off whether he realized it or not, and deciding that causally flirting with the middle blocker’s best friend was totally okay. absolutely nothing could go wrong, right?

oh, you poor, piss haired sewer rat.

to be fair, looking back on it years later, the two of you should be thanking atsumu for flirting with you that day.

if he hadn’t, then suna may have never realized how much he had fallen for you over the years of being by your side.

the fear suna felt run through him made his heart freeze when he saw the way you blushed when atsumu had whispered something in your ear during a break at practice.

the way his heart clenched when you laughed at one of his jokes, eyes alight and shining brightly made suna realize he didn’t want you looking at anyone like that but him.

although he kinda felt guilty for the bloody nose he gave atsumu when he “accidentally” spiked the ball directly into his face just as he was about to whisper something else in your ear, he never apologized.

and later that evening, as the two of you stood at the entrance to your street leading towards your homes, (you lived across the road from each other), suna kissed you as the sun set, confessing on the spot.

he wasn’t a particularly emotional person, leaving that to you, but he couldn’t help the way his eyes watered slightly from happiness when you just smiled that dazzling smile and kissed him again.

~~~~

now, with both of you at twenty-two years old and happily living together, the only thing left to do was get married, but suna wasn’t trying to rush towards that yet.

that’s how suna knows when you’re hiding something from him. and with the way your eyes subtly linger on his form as he strips to change out of his sweaty clothes and into something comfier, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what you want.

luckily for you, suna rintarou decided that being a genius is suddenly overrated.

————————

you sighed in content the moment you settled yourself on suna’s lap, burying your face in his neck as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

you could feel the tension in his body relax at your warm weight, long arms coming to loosely wrap around your waist as he settled deeper into the couch.

suna knew he missed your presence, but he never realized how starved he was of your touch until you slowly began scratching his hair at the top of his neck soothingly, placing gentle kisses to his flesh.

he practically melted into a warm puddle and squeezed you a tad bit tighter, smiling softly at the way you giggled and continued your ministrations.

“i swear rin, if you were a cat you’d be purring right now.” you teased as your fingers never left his hair. all suna did was give a light amused huff, and you both settled into silence.

this was nice. you could be content with just this. having suna in your arms and relaxed against your couch is more than you’ve had in a while, and you tried to convince yourself that it was enough.

but suna could pick up on the way your kisses lingered a little too long against his neck without you realizing what you were doing, the way your thighs twitched gently from your straddled position in his lap.

you were trying so hard to stay still for him, not wanting to be a bother especially after such a tiring practice today, but you just couldn’t help it.

just the thought of his thick and long cock spearing you open had your thighs twitching again, but you made yourself relax as you took in a deep breath, filling your nose with the scent of him.

‘this is enough.’

as you fought to relax yourself and rid the dirty thoughts from your mind, you didn’t realize that your boyfriend had caught on to your mental battle.

he knew what you wanted, and to be honest he wanted to fuck just as badly as you did, but he just couldn’t find it within himself to put out the effort. so instead, another idea came to mind.

“y’know, if you wanted to sit on my cock so badly, you could’ve just told me, (y/n).” suna remarked nonchalantly and you froze in his lap, face burning at being caught while acting needy.

you buried your face deeper into his neck, denying his words. “never said i wanted to sit on your cock, dumbass…” you muttered into his neck, and suna raised a thin eyebrow in disbelief.

now out of all times, you wanted to be a brat?

“oh? so i misinterpreted things?” he mused and he rolled his eyes when you simply nodded into his neck, refusing to admit defeat.

you startled when you felt his large hands begin to move you off his lap, and you whipped your head up to look at him in confusion and concern.

suna leveled your gaze with that same eyebrow raised at you in amusement. “what? i thought you just wanted to just wanted to relax tonight and not sit on my cock?”

you whimpered in embarrassment but suna kept up with his act, wanting to see how long it’d take for you to break and finally beg.

so he continued to push you off of him slowly until you finally caved with a whine, locking yourself firmly on his lap as you gripped his arms in desperation.

a smug smirk curled his lips as he watched you begin to grind against him softly, big doe eyes staring up at him with all the lust and desperation you’ve been holding back for the past week.

“please rin,” you whined, slowly gyrating your hips into his, growing more frantic when you felt his cock rise and press against you through his sweats.

“i wanna be full of your cock so badly, please! i’ve been waiting like a good girl.” you whined, and suna groaned at how wanton you sounded, (s/c) cheeks dusted lightly with your blush.

you nearly cried when suna wordlessly pulled you up and began slipping your shorts and panties down. you eagerly stood up and wiggled out of them.

kicking them somewhere in the living room, you watched with hungry eyes as suna pulled his own sweats and underwear down.

his cock sprang free from its confines, and you began drooling at how hard he was already, fat tip flushed red and leaking precum down the side.

the vein trailing down its side was pulsing angrily with his heartbeat, and you knew he was just as frustrated with the lack of intimacy as you.

already coating your inner thighs with your arousal, you wasted no time situating yourself back in his lap, hovering your twitching entrance over his thick cock.

with firm hands on your waist as you held onto his shoulder, you both choked out moans as you slowly but surely impaled yourself on his cock.

you nearly cried as he stretched your walls apart, relishing in the feeling of being so full again.

as he finally bottomed out, plush tip jamming firmly against your cervix, you stared up at your boyfriend with love and lust swirling in your eyes, desperate to move.

suna hissed at the way you seemed even tighter than he remembered, wet walls clasping around him like velvet.

the urge to thrust into your tight heat until you were screaming his name made him almost feral, and he nearly began bucking his hips up when he remembered how you wanted to play coy and bratty earlier.

so he decided to do the next best thing.

bringing his face close to yours until your lips were barely brushing against one another, suna pulled you into a searing kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist as you eagerly kissed him back.

it was wet and messy with the desperation between the two of you, his tongue wasting no time to slip into your mouth and re-familiarize himself with your flavor.

you moaned into the kiss and tried to lift your hips to start moving, but suna’s grip on you kept you from rising. breaking away from him, you stared at him in confusion, lips wet and shiny.

“rin?” you questioned but your boyfriend simply ignored you, reaching to his side for the remote to the tv before switching it on and randomly clicking on a channel.

you stared at him in disbelief as the sound of guy fieri’s voice came softly from the flatscreen, and suna resisted the urge to smile as he settled back down, wrapping his arms around you again before leaning his chin on your shoulder.

there was no way he was gonna keep you like this, right?

but to your dismay, the longer the two of you sat there, suna’s cock hard and pulsing within your tight walls, the more jittery and whiny you became when he didn’t move.

you were desperate for some sort of friction, anything to ease the tension you felt throbbing in your core, but suna was having no of it.

you tried to wiggle in his arms, whimpering slightly as you jostled his cock within you, his member shifting to rub lightly against your g-spot.

a hiss left suna’s lips when you squirmed around, walls tightening as you desperately tried to get some friction.

a sharp cry left your lips when a heavy palm came cracking down against your ass cheek, halting your movements as you rested your forehead against his clothed chest, whimpering in pain and pleasure.

suna growled lowly into your ear, palm never leaving your stinging flesh as he gripped you tightly.

“now you wanna move?” he scoffed. “i thought you didn’t want my cock in you earlier, hm?”

“but i took it back and asked you for it!” you whined and suna pulled you back to gaze into your eyes.

even though he was your boyfriend, he was your best friend first, and you forgot how mean he could be when teasing you.

“you did, huh?” he scoffed again when you nodded your head rapidly, clenching around him again to try and entice him to move.

“well i’m just giving you what you wanted, baby girl. you wanted to sit on my cock, so you are.” you whimpered in despair when he stared directly into your eyes with a malicious gleam.

“i’m tired from practice and you feel so good around me,” he bucked his hips up into you lightly to emphasize his point, and you moaned wantonly as he hit your g-spot directly.

“so be a good girl for me and keep me warm. can you do that?”

suna smiled when you weakly nodded your head, sniffling quietly as your eyes began to fill with tears. he cooed as a couple drops fell to stream down your cheeks.

“my pretty little crybaby.” he mused as he brought a hand up to wipe your tears away. you let him do as he pleased and sat still for him like a good girl.

your earlier thought of retiring early tonight flashed by you, and you realized just how wrong your assumptions were.

—————————

suna was ninety-five percent sure that if he edged you one more time tonight and didn’t let you cum, he’d be a single man by the morning.

you were a crying, shivering mess in his lap at this point. your tears were soaking the fabric by his chest just as your drooling cunt was soaking the fabric of his sweats.

for hours now, the sun having gone down around the third or fifth time of you nearly reaching your climax, suna has been edging you as you warmed his cock.

eyes never leaving the tv, he would slowly grind against you till you were whining loudly in his ear.

sometimes if he felt you were getting too comfortable, eyes almost slipping shut in exhaustion, he would suddenly thrust harshly into your core, smashing directly into your g-spot before stilling again.

he began to feel particularly bad after holding you over the edge before pulling you away last time. your big (e/c) eyes were red from crying, tears freely flowing down your cheeks.

you were shaking like a leaf in his lap, hiccups jolting you every now and then as you tried to cling onto your fading orgasm as it died back down. but you were his good girl, not once trying to move in his lap.

that didn’t stop you from begging him, however.

in the beginning, suna just toned out your begging, keeping his attention on guy fieri driving around looking for the best diner’s, drive-in’s, and dives.

but when he finally decided to look down at you, your words slowly flowing through his ears again, his heart clenched and his dick throbbed at the sight of you practically destroyed on his lap.

so suna decided to take pity on you and actually began thrusting into you at a consistent pace, his own patience stretched thin at the feeling of your insides pulsing so tightly against him for hours.

but he stopped the moment you shook your head, weak fists coming to beat on his chest in retaliation.

he had to strain his hearing to catch onto your words, but when he did, his heart practically shattered when you were quietly crying on his lap.

“n-no more… i c-can’t t-take it!” you whimpered, and suna wrapped his arms securely around your form, whispering sweet praises into your hair as he gently rocked you back and forth. “y-you’re just g-gonna stop again...”

“it’s okay pretty girl, shh. don’t cry.” he murmured to you as you relaxed in his arms, no longer shaking but tears still dripping down your cheeks.

“i’m not gonna tease you anymore, you’ve been so good for me.” he whispered into your hair.

“can i make you feel good, (y/n)?” he asked you calmly, and he smiled when you shyly nodded your head.

“please make me feel good, rinrin. i missed you.” you sounded so small and sweet in his arms, so suna decided to finally give you what you’ve been craving for.

keeping his arms locked around your waist, he hooked his chin on your shoulder as he began to piston his hips into yours, cock pumping into you at a steady pace as he began to push you towards your orgasm for the last time.

you wailed as you finally received the constant pressure of his cock filling your insides, hitting your g-spot with deadly accuracy as you tipped dangerously close to the edge.

you both weren’t gonna last long and suna knew that, so he winded his hand down between your bodies and connected his fingers with your aching clit.

rubbing firm circles into your sensitive nub, suna brought you right to the cliff, and this time, he allowed you to fall over.

you came on his cock with a silent cry, eyes wide as tears streamed down your cheeks. the force of you clenching around him forced suna to meet his end as well, a low groan leaving his lips as he slowly pumped his hips into yours, filling your cunt to the brim.

suna snaked his hand back up to wrap around your waist, burying his tired face into your breasts, refusing to let go as you both caught your breath, boneless after such a drawn out session.

he melted into your chest when you tiredly brought a hand up to lazily run through his hair, and this time you swore he began purring.

still connected to one another, you both began drifting off on the couch, the tv’s low hum helping you both settle into much needed rest.

you fell asleep first, cheek resting on the top of his head as you both reclined into the plush couch. suna could feel your even breaths and steady heartbeat, and smiled into your flesh before drifting off himself.

“god, i’m so lucky to have a best friend like you. i wonder what cut of diamond you prefer?”

taglist: @lovelypasteldreams @living-for-drama @arixtsukki @month-seasoning @bakarinnie @yikerb

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egg-on-the-run · 3 years

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I got my first proper request and I literally accidentally deleted it. Am I stupid? Yes. Did I immediately panic? Yes. Do I remember what was on it?........ mostly.

Haha anon I hope you see this I'm so sorry but ily.

The turtles s/o who's usually very calm but just bursts into anger.

Notes: swearing :) I think it's funny

Leonardo:

He's used to a very calm s/o, you like to meditate together, he's always been good with helping you with breathing exercises.

You both like to keep arguments to a minimum, and even when fights do take place there isn't a lot of yelling

But when your mother came to visit :) that was just :) a lot of pressure :)

And she stayed in your apartment :) for a week :) everything was fine :)

Leonardo hadn't seen you for an entire week, not an overly long time, but certainly not pleasant. And he knew that you got stressed when you couldn't see him often. So as soon as you texted saying you had dropped your mother off at the airport, he immediately came round.

You were already screaming the moment you walked in the door.

"Oh she has some nerve! Some nerve! Speaking to me like that!"

"I'm guessing you're car ride went smoothly."

"She's been bugging me all week! When are you getting married? When are you have kids? I want some grand babies before I die! Ugh! She's obsessed with maintaining this perfect image all because her friend's kids are married and making babies like rabbits!"

He stayed quiet, not exactly sure how to comfort you. It wasn't like he could provide you with these things, and by the sounds of it, your mother would never approve of your huge turtle boyfriend.

"She just can't get that I'm happy! I have my own life and it's perfect the way I want it to be! I have a perfect boyfriend! You're a fucking delight! She–she's just so obsessed with her image that she'd never get that!"

"You... You think so?"

"I know so! She's too stubborn and she'll never get how fucking great you are and it just— UGH! It fries my brain."

"Even though I... I can't give you all those things... I can't legally marry you, we can't have kids."

"Even if you could give me a mansion and a diamond ring, or if all you could give me was a-a fucking walnut! I love you Leonardo, not that prim and proper white satin wedding she's made a thousand Pinterest boards for. I love you, I just wish she would get it."

Leonardo leaned down and kissed your cheek

"I love you too."

He believed in dealing with anger appropriately, but seeing you defend him with such passion made him feel so much more secure.

Raphael:

He's seen you angry before, he encouraged it. He's all about helping you with your confidence, teaching you to not be afraid to take up space and stand up for yourself.

But holy cow. You were mad that night.

He'd warned you not to take the trash out at night, wait to the morning — or better yet, he'll take it out for you when he came to visit after patrol.

But you are Raphael's girl. You are stubborn.

So you take the trash out, and some absolute creep decides that "flirting" in a dark alleyway in the key to a girl's heart.

Raphael swooped in, told the man to scram. But bold and drunk, the man spits back with a "Oh yeah? And would she want anything to do with a freak like you? What are you gonna do? Hit me? Aw, big angry turtle, you're gonna scare your girlfriend away."

It was two of his biggest insecurities. His appearance and his rage, especially in regards to scaring you away. It was a low blow, Raphael should have known to just walk away.

But he clammed up, he'd never admit when his anxiety got the best of him and you don't blame him.

"Oh go fuck yourself. If a vile man like you doesn't scare me, why the hell do you think a good man like him would?"

"A good man? He's not a fucking man! He's some freaky turtle thing, a pretty little thing like you deserves a real man."

"And are you a real man?"

"More real than your little pet."

The next thing you knew, the man was on the ground. You assumed Raphael knocked him out, but Raph's standing behind you and you're the one with your hand in a fist.

"Oh my god. Oh–Oh Raphie I knocked him out! O-Oh my god!"

"Holy shit Y/N! You probably broke his nose!" Raphael is grinning, shaking your shoulders.

"I didn't mean to hurt him."

"He deserves a broken nose at the least for messing with you! He was an asshole and he needed someone like you to set him straight!"

"I, um, well, I suppose he did! Saying such horrible things about you, I-I guess he did need someone to put him in his place."

Raphael ruffled your hair, "Thank you, my knight in shining armour."

"That make you my Prince?"

"Your Prince who was right about not taking the trash out at night."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

He appreciated you standing up for him more than you could imagine. And he found it mighty hot how hard you hit that guy. Seriously! He must be a good self defence teacher.

Donatello:

Donatello loves you so much, loves holding you and hugging you whenever he can. He adores it when you sit on his lap while he works.

But do you like to cuddle when you sleep? Tough luck. Getting him to bed is like trying to lick your own elbow: near impossible.

Regardless, you try. Because every once in a while Donatello is too tired to fight and he will go to bed.

Tonight is not one of those nights.

"Baby, please, just come to bed. Everyone's already asleep."

"I'll be there in a minute, just go on without me."

You sigh, not really seeing the point in fighting. Instead you return to his bed, trying to keep yourself awake playing games on your phone. When half an hour passes, you go back and try again.

"Donnie come on, aren't you tired? I just want to cuddle."

"I just need to put some stuff on a hard drive, April's writing a new article, she needs it for tomorrow."

You sigh once more, "Promise you'll come to bed right after?"

"I promise."

Donatello's bed is comfortable, but it's more comfortable with him in. You force yourself to stay awake; despite your exhaustion you're determined to cuddle tonight. It's all you want.

But it did not take an hour to put some documents onto a hard drive. And he's being awfully loud for just typing away on a computer.

"Are you fucking joking right now?!"

He jumps, almost dropping the box of beakers in his arms, "Hey love... Can't sleep?"

"You're rearranging your lab?! Why are you—since when do you rearrange things, huh? What the hell?!"

"I just y'know, thought things needed a change..?"

"Oh, and now is the time to change things, really? Of all the times to move your fucking beakers you decide to do it in the middle of the night after I specifically asked you to come to bed? Seriously?"

He gives a nervous grin, the kind that usually made you smile in return. But it was late — rather it was early at this point — and you were cranky.

"You can sleep without me, you're a big girl." He teased.

"I want to sleep with my boyfriend! I want to cuddle! Is that so much to ask for?!"

Donatello blinked, "You're right, I'm sorry, but I swear, I promise, I'll be ten minutes, honest."

"You can finish this tomorrow. If you're not in bed in the next ten seconds, I am going to scream and wake everyone else up."

"Don't be ridiculous—"

"Ten."

Donatello jumped, quickly moving to shove supplies in cupboards a little recklessly. You continued to count down from ten, storming off back to his bed for hopefully the finally time this night.

By the time you got to the very firm "Three... Two... One..." Donatello was racing to bed, dived in beside you, crashing and knocking your heads together.

He'd never tell you, for fear you'd let it get to your head, but he kind of liked it when you got bossy.

Michelangelo:

Anger and Michelangelo just don't mix. They just don't. He's the king of communication, he's tries his hardest to avoid fights at any and all costs. You've always appreciated his determination to talk things out with you.

But with his brothers? He shuts down, he goes quiet and just accepts whatever blame they put on him: he knows they don't mean it, they only say mean things when they're angry.

But it hurts, hearing his big brothers tell him he's stupid, that he's childish, that he's lackadaisical.

"What kind of word even is that?! I swear Donnie must read a thesaurus as a bedtime story.."

So he's allowed to complain, and you let him ramble when he comes to visit. He sits on your bed and the words just tumble out of his mouth, lets you move around the room tidying up while he rants.

"I just—Raph keeps calling me stupid. And I just—I-I just—You know, sometimes I believe it."

You freeze, sweater only half folded and turn to him, "But you're not stupid. Just because you're not some brainiac like Donatello doesn't make you stupid. If that was the case, then I'm stupid, Raph's stupid, April, Leo, Splinter is stupid. Do you think we're all stupid?"

"Well—no, but—"

"But what?"

"But I... I am a little stupid."

"No you're not! Mikey, how many times has you out of the box thinking saved the day? Y-You were the one who suggested playing friggen buck-buck to take down Shredder! Y-Your skateboarding—hoverboarding skills saved the world. You think your brothers could do that?"

Mikey scrunched his nose up, "That's not smart though. They're right. My-my focus is all over the place, I-I could never come up with a plan like Leo, I could never have half the brains Donnie has, and Raph just—he gets things that I don't and I-I am stupid!"

"I need to have a word with your brothers—"

"And that's another thing! Everyone still treats me like I'm some kid! I don't need you to have a word with them! You're not my mom."

"Then you have a word with them! But sitting here and complaining about things that just aren't true isn't going to change anything!"

He's taken aback. Much like himself, you hardly ever yell, never ever raise your voice at him.

"I am not going to stand here and let them insult you day in and day out! Either you do something about it, or I will!"

He blinks at you, you're aggressively folding the sweater in your arms and grumbling about how you could definitely take Raphael in a fist fight if need be. You mumble something about how nobody gets to speak to your boyfriend like that, and it finally clicks with Mikey.

"Alright. I'm going to talk to them," He's mostly talking to himself, "I'm going to show them that I'm not some stupid, ditzy, lackadaisical kid anymore. I'm your boyfriend, and nobody gets to speak with me that way!"

You beam at him, anger disappearing within the second with his newfound confidence, "Hell yeah! Nobody insults my boyfriend!"

"Your boyfriend!"

"My boyfriend!"

"Your boyfriend!"

His brothers' version of a wake up call is to point out his weaknesses, tell him what needs to be corrected. But you much prefer to build him up, point out his strengths.

But jeez, he does not like your angry face.

#Upon seeing this request I forgot what anger felt like for three days #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2k14 #tmnt 2k16 #tmnt bayverse #tmnt leo #tmnt raph #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt x reader #tmnt x female reader #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt mikey x reader #title: anger

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pjm-com · 3 years

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unbound | m.

- a/n : a big thank you to @ksj-com for helping with the plot hehe

- pairing: kim taehyung x reader - genre: smut, forbidden love! au, slight angst - warnings: sex, cursing, fighting, boys being boys - word count: 11.4K - summary: years after being under the sharp eye of your brother, taehyung finally returns your feelings. of course, jungkook is wanting to protect you from another vicious heartbreak after yoongi, but taehyung will find a way to see you. with or without jungkook's permission.

“Fuck this date.”

You slammed the door shut, tears rolling down your face. You’re glad your parents went away on some kayaking trip, cause the entire house shook. You hang up your purse, not even stopping to look at the outfit you had just wasted. A simple spaghetti strap dress. You had curled your hair for once too, considering it was usually in a bun, or you just left it alone. Not to mention, you had to borrow makeup from a friend considering you rarely wore any.

To put it simply, this was a waste of your fucking time.

You stomped up the stairs towards your brother's room, knowing you’d be able to confide in him. It’s something he’s been doing heartbreak after heartbreak and it gets a little easier every time. His best friend Taehyung would always weigh in too when he could, and they always knew what to say. You’re afraid that this time, they’re gonna want to do more than give advice. If they didn’t kill him first, you’d be able to milk an apology out of the date.

Slamming the door, you sniffle loudly. “Sorry.. can I come to hang out?” Your voice sounded clogged from the drive home. Not one, but two pairs of eyes land on you. Jungkook nods in an instant, patting the open space on the bed. Taehyung’s eyes are glued on you out of pure shock, following you closely as you fall face-first into the bed. The warm palm of your brother's hand on the low of your back. For some reason, it makes you cry even harder.

God, you were pathetic. You haven’t cried over a boy in so long, but this one hurt a little more. You guess you figured that he had liked you, so maybe that’s why it was a little sore right now.

“What's wrong?” Jungkook’s soft voice rings through the room as their game goes on pause. He continues to rub your back in huge circles to calm your breathing while you find a stopping point to the sobbing. You pick up your head, wiping your eyes the best you could, laughing angrily.

“Sorry about your comforter…” Jungkook waves it off. “It's just— I get all dressed up in t-this, which we all know I don’t dress to impress. Then, Mr. Min fucking Yoongi shows up, fifteen minutes late might I add. He barely even looked at me all night.” The boys share a look that is quick, eyes wide.

“Kook, Don’t Namjoon and Hoseok know him?” Taehyung sounded surprised, while your brother nodded.

“Namjoon was who introduced them I think.”

You nod to both of them, playing with a loose string of Jungkook’s blanket. “Yeah, that and we have study hall together.. not that it matters anymore…” You trail off, upset. You were having a good time with him too, even if it was for a few class periods every week. You hated feeling this way, showing weakness in front of your brother and his friend. You couldn’t help it. Guys were assholes.

Shifting into a sitting position, you lean against your brother's shoulder. “Then, he was like ‘so when are we going to fuck’, and lewd stuff like that.. Like— like how do you just say something like that? I feel like an idiot,” You whined, tears falling freely again. You sniffled again as Jungkook brings you in for a hug.

Your brother groaned. “That’s fucked up.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “I went in there thinking he was interested in me. Not my body. It seemed like he only cared about sex. He even told me he had second thoughts coming, but… I can only assume he came in case he was gonna get laid.” Your voice dropped off as you let it out, crying into your hands. Boys were cruel and that was more than evident. Jeon Jungkook was horrible at many things. He couldn’t cook, he once swallowed a puzzle piece and got put on house arrest once. That being said, he’s still your brother and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. He’s an idiot. You have so many other options, he doesn’t even deserve your time.”

Taehyung seconds Jungkook’s words. “For real. You’re funny, you are talented at a lot of things… and I guess you aren’t that ugly.”

You snort softly as you look up from Jungkook’s arms, wiping your eyes while you three laugh. It’s the oldest cliche in the book, but hearing that from Taehyung makes your heart flutter. You continued to look at Taehyung for a bit, cheeks red as you looked at your own feet. You don’t know when you even started having a crush on the older male, but you hate it. As much as it pains you to say that. Jungkook made it crystal clear that he was off-limits, while Taehyung had made no effort to try and make a move. You left it dormant.

You smile. “Thanks, Tae.” You sigh, wiping your eyes for hopefully the last time. “Sorry for crashing, well— whatever this was.”

Jungkook shakes his head, tone firm. “We weren’t doing much of anything. Did you want to join us?”

You look over to his counterpart, the look on Taehyung’s face inviting as you decided. If you had another second alone with yourself, then you might as well just cry for the rest of the night. Nodding, you excuse yourself to change into some regular clothes and take a moment to wipe off your makeup. Your phone lights up, reading Min Yoongi. The infamous senior who everyone wanted to be with, despite being a nonchalant asshole.

He seemed genuine at first, he did. You wonder why you put yourself in these situations, but you can’t find an answer. At least not one you want to admit. Stepping back into your bother’s room with fresh sweatpants and a tight hoodie, you move towards the boys. Sitting on the bed, you pull Jungkook’s fuzzy blanket over your body and relax into the headboard.

The exhaustion stops you almost immediately, eyes closed as you slump against the pillow. Your mind washes away all the worries of a couple of hours before.

You dreamt about your future. Working a dull nine to five, a decent car, a nice house in a quiet neighborhood. Wasn’t ideal, but your husband in the dream was making everything with it. That being said, you couldn’t make out his face, the blonde blurry to your eyes. You enjoyed his company, or at least you did according to the last strings of your dreams.

You make quick work of getting ready, pulling on jeans and a hoodie considering the temperature had dropped today. Once ready, you brush your teeth and floss quickly before you grab your bag and make your way downstairs. You cursed to yourself as you barely had touched your homework. A nerve-eating parasite pinched the very core of your stomach, dragging yourself down into the kitchen with dread. Yoongi was the last person you had wanted to see. Unfortunately, you’d have to suck it up and face your day head-on.

You’re surprised to see Jungkook by himself at the island, choking on a bowl of Frosted Flakes as he dumped the plastic bowl into the sink, looking at you.

“Where’s thing two?” Not that you cared. Okay, you did, but you were curious. They went everywhere together and Taehyung was the last to wake up when he slept at your house. Your brunette brother shrugged, slipping into his vans and almost face planting as he did. He grabbed his keys, moving out the door with urgency. You deadpanned. “Stay up late?”

Jungkook snorted. “Yeah, till almost four. S’ crazy right? Trying to wake up Taehyung is like trying to wake up a cemetery. When I got up, he was gone. Maybe he went to school early?” You both shared a look before bursting into laughter.

“Yeah right,” you laugh as you lock your front door, trailing behind Jungkook to the car. “That knucklehead would never go to school early.. maybe had to shower or something.” You get into your brother's car, deciding you leave yours home for the day. You were coming straight home after school and nowhere else, and taking two vehicles to school was a little extra.

The ride to school was the same, Kook talking about whatever girl he was banging while you just watched the houses move by. You dreaded getting to school, but on the bright side, you wouldn’t have any distractions. You could get all your homework done for the weekend. You doubted Yoongi would even be there, considering all he did was sit in the bathroom and smoke weed.

You guess you kind of liked that, though. You lived a bit of a cookie-cutter life, and never had a taste of danger. Till you met Yoongi.

Finally, you were parked in the school lot. As soon as you stepped out of the car, Taehyung was jogging to you both. His brown eyes crazy and you couldn’t help but notice his knuckles were a bit red. Couldn’t blame him, considering it was the cold dry season.

The blonde fell into step with you and your brother, joining in on the regular morning banter. How Jungkook was a whore, and Taehyung was practically locked in a chatty belt. You thought it was sweet though. Taehyung didn’t have many girlfriends, and you thought it was refreshing how he took everything at his own pace.

“You guys are idiots,” you call, watching the twins wrestle as you open your locker. You shove some books in, only to take out the necessary ones as you wave goodbye to dumb and dumber. Taehyung smiles at you while he waves, and your return the action right back. The prettiest smile you had ever seen. It sounds gross to be gushing over someone who had grown up with you, but the childhood feelings were long gone. They grew up with you, less innocent than they were before. Not that you’d ever say anything.

Taking a seat, you set your books down on your usual table, the commons more crowded than usual. The bell rings and some kids scatter, but it was still heavy traffic in the heart of the school. Your stomach does flips into your fucking ass, almost dropping your headphones as half of the cafeteria watches with you.

Yoongi makes his way across the room, soft eye turned black. Chapped lip now split. It looked fresh too. Not a yesterday kind of bruise, it was more of a thirty-minute wound. He barely gave you time to process how close he was, but the tone was pitiful. Forced. Like someone was holding a gun to his head.

“I’m sorry.” It was dry and airy, but it was.. an apology? “I’m sorry for acting like an asshole. I'm not sure what got into me that night, but I shouldn’t have treated you like that. 's not right.” With that, without even waiting for an answer, he was gone. Anger filled your head to toe. You’re not even sure how it was possible. Who the hell had even beat him up? And was it related to your situation? You finish your homework, but with a clouded mind. So many questions and no answers. You figure it must’ve been Jungkook. Maybe that’s why he was so tired this morning.

You were gonna let him have it.

The rest of the day followed fast and suit as a Friday would. It had blurred by, probably due to the anger. You heated up even more as the car was unlocked, pushing your bag into the seat while Jungkook stared at you weirdly.

“The hell was that today?” The confusion is almost comical, eyebrows knitted as he starts the car. “Don’t act brand new. Yoongi came up to me this morning with his face practically smashed. He apologized to me.” Jugnkook laughed it off, turning on the car and backing out of the parking spot.

“Y/N, you give me too much credit. Mom would beat my ass if I beat someone else’s. Though, I do envy whoever did. Any other leads?” You shake your head as you sink back into the seat. This day felt too long. “I mean, we told Joon about it, but he’s cool Y/N you know him. Doubt he’d do anything so drastic.” You were at a dead end. The drive home was silent. You had no more energy for talking or doing anything else. It seemed so crazy.

You know what though? At least he apologized. Whether he meant it or not, he had to drag his sorry ass through the commons after getting it handed to him, and he had to apologize. You could take a decent nap on that note alone. Although, it still burns in the back of your skull that someone had done it for you. Or at least you thought.

You’re still unsure if the two were related.

“You want a sandwich?” Jungkook offers it up as you both enter the house, dropping your bag as you nod. You honestly forgot to eat today, hunger pangs banging on the wall of your gut. You sit at the island, opening a Gatorade as you watch Jungkook pull out the sub bread and the other fixings to the “world-famous” sub he made. Honestly, it was pretty damn good, and you could eat a whole one right about now.

“So.. you feeling better?” You sigh at the question, chin rested on your hand as you shrug.

You weren’t too sure. “I guess. I'm glad he apologized, but it still racks my mind. Why was he all banged up?” Jungkook halts a bit, before shrugging normally. Jungkook wanted to let the situation blow over, so he decided not to say anything. “Wasn’t you, wasn’t Namjoon, and it wasn’t Taehyung? So… I don't know. Who cares. Enough bout that asshole... What are your plans for tonight?”

Jungkook was glad you had dropped the topic. “The usual. I think the boys are gonna come over tonight if that’s okay with you? I don’t know if you wanted a quiet night or something, but. Jimin wants to play Mario Kart, and Hoseok is going to raid our fridge... You know the usual,” he laughed. But nothing more was said. You happily ate the sandwich, watching the brunette crack out his chemistry book to finish his homework before the boys came over.

You retreated to the bedroom, changing into some sweatpants and one of Jungkook’s old ratty hoodies. The moment your head hit your pillow, you were out like a light.

Honestly, when you woke up, you felt a thousand times better. Your body felt relaxed, you had finger marks on your cheeks. It was probably the best damn nap you’ve had in a while. You rub your eyes, not surprised to see a couple of snap chats from your friends considering you had been asleep for a couple of hours now. You’re almost tempted to go back to sleep before you hear faint yelling from downstairs.

You didn’t mind going to spend a little time with them, laughing as you see Jimin tackle Jin over the coffee table as the raven took first place again. Jimin was no match for the taller male, however, Jin pushing the brunette over the table and straight on his ass, laughing.

“Hey,” you said softly, grabbing a water bottle from the hallway stash, sitting on the edge of the counter.

“Y/N did you see that, Jin’s a cheater!” Jimin wailed throughout the house, making everyone roll their eyes.

Jin’s face only read malice. “Just like your last girlfriend.” The boys all winced at the comeback, laughing a little once they saw Jimin wasn’t phased. “Too soon?” The two start wrestling again, making you laugh. You move past the four-year-olds on the floor, pulling out a small bag of pretzels from the pantry. You open them, turning on your heel before you almost bump into Namjoon. He was a bit of a refresher. He was kind through and through, and always put everyone before himself. Even when your mother forced your brother to let you come with when you were younger, Namjoon always made sure you were included and cared for.

“Woah! Sorry,” you laugh, ready to move past but Namjoon blocks you.

You can read on his face that he’s a little guilty, but you’re not too sure what for. His mouth opens like he’s finding the words, before his lips purse again.

You laugh. “Namjoon, stop sweating. It’s okay, I’m okay.” Namjoon doesn’t buy it. He pulls you into a hug, lips pressed to the top of your head. He was really like an older brother to you, right under Jungkook.

“It’s not... I just. I don’t know. I feel— you never would’ve met him if it wasn’t for me. And I just—“ He cuts himself off. “No one should ever be told those things…” He sure sounded guilty. You did, however, accept the hug.

“Hey, seriously... It sucks, but it’s not your fault. I would never blame you for something like that. Seriously I mean it.” You smile up at the raven, and he finally smiles back. He’s relieved, but you had another thing to get off your chest. “Hey, speaking of him… did you happen to see who beat him up? When he apologized, he looked… busted,” You laugh, Namjoon follows suit.

Unfortunately, Joon shakes his head. “Nope.. figured Jungkook did that, but no. I wish I had an answer,” he shrugged, a frown on his features before Jungkook is calling you both over. You suppressed the curiosity, for now, wondering if you’d ever get an answer. You roll your eyes as your brother referred to you as stinky, laughing as you snatch the controller from Hoseok who was losing anyways.

“Let me show you guys how a real match is played.”

All the boys got their remotes ready. Honestly, you had fun playing the few rounds you did. You kept winning first place against Jimin who was definitely in the lead. You hand the controller, relaxing back into the huge couch. You’re surprised it's taken you this long to realize that Taehyung wasn’t even here. He was always over, so you wondered why he was missing right now. You pull out your phone, checking his location at his own house.

You decide to text him, phone screen tilted to Jungkook couldn’t see.

hey, loser. why aren’t you kicking everyone's ass on the wii?

You watch the text bubble start typing on the screen, and for a few good minutes, it’s going. You’re ready to see a keyboard smash or something considering it was taking a while for the text to send. Just like that, it’s gone. The hell? It wasn’t like Taehyung to not respond, or to take long at all. Something felt off, but you knew Jungkook’s rules. He would be curious as to why you were going over to his house.

“Hey kook, I’m gonna.. get some ice cream. You want any on the way back?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Nah, we’re gonna go get food after this round. Check-in with me at eleven!” You rolled your eyes, slipping on your slippers as you said goodbye to the boys. Unlocking your car, you got in and pulled out of the driveway as soon as it was warmed up enough. It wasn’t a far drive to Taehyung’s house, only a couple of streets over from yours. You knew the route by heart, all the countless nights of you and your brother sneaking out of your house. You high-tailed it to the blue suburban at the end of the cul de sac, only to be dragged home by your mother.

When you finally arrive at the house, you park on the street noticing the house was pitch black. Save for the basement window, which was Taehyung’s window. You kill the engine, shutting the door quietly as you trek up to the front of the house. Tipping the potted fern out front, you grab the hidden spare key, unlocking the front door gently. You close it behind you, taking off your shoes as you sneak down to the basement, not wanting to wake his parents.

You tap the ‘man cave’ sign that the idiots painted for good luck; a tradition you all had. It doesn’t take long to spot Taehyung slouched against the headboard, hand in a chip bowl as you hear the opening credits of SpongeBob. Oh lord.

“Hey stranger,” you call softly, watching him mope around as he paused the show, sitting up.

His face showed that he seemed a little annoyed. “What do you want?” You’re thrown off by the tone, but you can tell he’s upset. Or that he’s in a mood, even though he quickly backtracked. “I’m sorry... I’m just. I got a lot on my mind.” Your eyebrows knit, looking at the expression. Whatever it was, it was kicking his ass.

“It’s okay,” You sigh, voice soft as you move to sit on the end of the bed. Taehyung is jumbling around words in his mouth, shrugging. He wants to avoid it, you can tell. He didn’t want to say whatever was obviously on the tip of his tongue, but it was going to eat him up one way or another. “Hey, the boys aren’t here.. Say what you need t—“

“I’m sorry, okay?” Your eyebrow raised at his words, but you didn’t even have to ask. “I’m sorry about Yoongi.”

You rolled your eyes. “God— what is it with you guys? You and Namjoon both. You don’t need to be sorry, he apologized. It sucks, but it’s over with.” You were starting to get a little irritated at how everyone was walking on eggshells around you. This wouldn’t be the first time your heart broke, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. Taehyung groans like he’s at war with himself, leaning back into his bed.

“I was the one who beat him up… to get him to apologize.”

The silence that follows is deafening, your eyes wide at the words. Finally, you’re relieved that the whole ordeal is solved. But—

“Why?” You were grateful, truthfully. “What if you get in trouble?” Taehyung had a perfect record, and it wouldn’t sit right with you if he ruined it because of Yoongi. You weren’t going to lie, it did make your heart flutter a bit.

Taehyung sat up, eyes not meeting yours. “Cause, Y/N. I did it cause it's not fair. Yoongi shouldn’t get to walk around with a chip on his shoulder after saying what he did to you.” The blonde sighs, eyes finally looking up. “I pummeled him hard enough, I doubt he’d rat me out. I'm tired of seeing boy after boy come through and break your heart. It’s not fair to you.” Your cheeks burn at the words, sitting silently as you cross your arms. You couldn’t be mad at that, not when he was crusading for you.

“I'm surprised Jungkook didn’t rat me out. He knew… and he knows I like you.”

Now you’re super confused.

“Jungkook knew? That little shit,” you grumble. “I asked him. All-day I was trying to find out what the hell happened to Yoongi. But he knows you like me?” Taehyung nods, defeated as he holds one of his pillows against his chest. You have hit another dead end for maybe the fourth time today. It was unspoken between you two, but you already knew the deal. You can’t go after him. Even if you want to open that damn basement window and scream to the streets that he had finally liked you back.

“It doesn’t even matter,” he whined, eyes looking down at the floor now. “He doesn’t want to be in the middle or pick sides if we were to break up.” You nod, knowing that was Jungkook’s whole problem. It would be impossible for him to pick between his lifelong best friend and his sister. He couldn’t, and he doesn’t want to.

Taehyung on the other hand feels like a fucking idiot. Exposing his feelings, and to him, it seems like you’re dodging it head-on. Relief floods him.

“I like you, god I do,” You mumble, thumb brushing over the scar on the side of his face. “I don’t want to come between you and jungkook.” Taehyung shakes his head, holding your face in his hands.

“I don’t care anymore. I don’t,” he whined, moving closer. It felt like literal years before his lips touched yours and when they do, it knocks the wind out of you. His hand on yours as he practically smashes your lips together and god does it feel good. It feels so fucking good to kiss him. Like you’re finally breathing fresh air. You return the force of the kiss, hand on his shoulder as they mold together. His lips, they’re soft save for the tiny spot that's chapped. He had on cherry-flavored chapstick, making you smile a bit. It tasted weird.

“I don’t care.” Taehyung breathed against your lips. His hand held your face, thumb moving over your bottom lip. It gave your stomach butterflies, to say the least, while he kissed you again. Too slow for your liking, laughing as you bumped noses. You fell back into the bed, the blond following suit. If he didn’t care, then neither did you.

His hands stayed holding your head, jaw tilted in place as you made out slowly. Strings of soft, loving kisses that had years behind them. Decades.

“I guess it doesn’t hurt to keep things under wraps,” you mumbled, feeling his lips wander to your neck. An innocent kiss turned deviant.

You’ve never received a proper hickey before, and god was it making your head spin. The difference between a harsh bite on your neck was massive compared to what Taehyung was doing. His tongue was moving slowly over your skin, pinpointing the spot. Kissing it, mentally marking it before he started sucking on it carefully. Your eyes fluttered shut, letting him do as he pleased. The sensation heightened even more as his hand found yours. He laced the fingers together, before pinning it to the bed.

“Don’t make it too big,” you breathed, tightening the grip on his hand. The laugh that came from his lips was sinister, cold fingers feeling under your hood but stopping at the dip in your back. He held you close as his lips returned to yours, teeth tugging on them carefully before he was kissing you. Like he wasn’t just sucking the blood out of your neck.

Taehyung pulls away, calm. “How was that?” His mood, a whole one-eighty as he sported a lopsided grin. A new glint in his eyes. “I like that..” His thumb pressed over the spot he was just working on before pulling you up with him. The kiss he pressed to your foreheaD? God, everything about him was addicting and you only had him for mere seconds.

“You’re an idiot.” Your face, no help as your cheeks light on fire. Taehyung grinned, his infamous smile as he kissed you again. Honestly, you’re about to fall back into the bed before your phone rings. You’re snapped out of the honeymoon phase as you quickly read the screen. “Shit— I gotta go! Jungkook is so gonna kick my ass!”

You scramble to gather yourself, picking up your keys as you almost hurdle up the stairs. Your arm is yanked back, almost out of your damn socket. You’re flung back into Taehyung’s body, the lips finding yours for one last time before he’s pushing your ass out the door.

“Text me when you’re home.. let me know Jungkook didn’t skin you.”

You both share a nervous laugh, your own feet leaving behind a dust trail as you eject into the car. The engine races to life, pulling out from the side of the street only to speed home. The drive is uneventful and gut-wrenching. You almost clip the mailbox as you pull into your spot in the driveway. You shut your car door softly, fingers not even having the chance to turn the knob before the front door flings open. Jungkook standing there, your stomach falling into your ass.

He knows.

“Where the hell were you?”

“Getting ice cream.” Y/N, you’re a fucking idiot.

Your brother pulls you by the hoodie gently so he can shut the door and lock it. “Cut the bullshit, I have your location dumbs. You’re not doing a good job of hiding that hickey on your neck either.” He’s whisper yelling, which lets you conclude that his friends were still in the living room. The brunette grumbles, popping his head in to make sure his friends were still entertained. “When did you and Taehyung start fucking?” God, the way he spat it out was malicious. But you had to defend yourself.

“Can you watch your mouth kook? We aren’t, we just— kissed,” you groaned. “I know it sounds bad, but it didn’t start until tonight.”

“So you are fucking?”

You roll your eyes. “No, we aren’t. What's the big deal anyway? We kissed a couple of times, Jungkook. Grow up.” You kick off your shoes, turning to the stairs but you have Jungkook’s hand to keep you in place.

“Y/N, I told you the deal. You’ve known the deal. I don’t want you with him, I can’t be a mediator. I won’t have my best friend dating my little sister.” Jungkook’s voice was low but firm. He was dead serious.

But so were you.

You rip your arm out of his grip. “Then don’t be one, and mind your fucking business. I don’t need your approval on who I date.” You want to move up the stairs, but you had to get the last word. “You know, at least he gives a shit. At least he cared about everything that happened with Yoongi. He straightened him out, made him apologize while you barely lifted a finger! If it comes to that point, then it’s between me and Taehyung, not you.” You storm off to your room, Jungkook grumbling.

“Then tell your fucking boyfriend that he can forget about our fucking friendship.”

You slam your door at his words, back pressed against it as you tried to cool off. You yanked your phone out of your pocket, texting Taehyung.

he’s such a fucking asshole. he just blew up on me for no reason.

You fall back into your bed, huffing angrily as Taehyung responds.

ya. he txted me n told me to find another ride to school tmrw. guess he was srs bout cutting me off

Fuck Jungkook.

...

You never saw yourself doing pretty much anything that surfaced within the two months after you and Taehyung started seeing each other. Secretly of course.

Even if the idiots called quits on their friendship, Jungkook would still kick Taehyung’s ass if he saw you together. You’ve been lying to Jungkook about where you go after school. He was still giving you the cold shoulder, suspecting that he blames you for their friendship ending. You couldn’t care less.

You had snuck out for the first time, to meet Taehyung at his house, and you would still be doing it even if Jungkook approved or not. It was his damn fault.

You still would’ve been in the busy part of the town’s bowling alley, Taehyung all over you. You weren’t really worried. The crowded part of the lot made it easy for the town’s druggies and smokers to do it safely, and no one would suspect a thing. Same with others like you and Taehyung. Thank god he had snatched the last spot in the corner of the asphalt lot.

“Ow!” You yelped loudly at the tug of your hair, Taehyung’s elbow leaning heavily on it. He pulled away from our neck, already looking mangled with the same crazy grin you’ve fallen in love with these past few weeks. He moves your hair safely out of the danger zone, offering a small ‘sorry’. He dives back into your skin, tongue lapping over the expanse of your neck before biting harshly. You sigh lazily, hand moving up into his hair as he placed the final kisses over his hickies.

He surges up to kiss you, falling right in line with him as your other hand makes quick work of feeling his naked body. Both of yours together, save for the underwear you both had on. You feel how toned he is, each muscle moving under his skin as he adjusts himself again between your legs, making you bite your lip.

Euphoric as you feel, you’re curious.

“Do you miss Kook? Be honest.”

Taehyung groans, head coming up from the trail he was leaving right above the hem of your bra. “You’re killing my boner, Y/N. I don’t wanna talk about your brother while I’m bout to fling this bra to the front seat.” You snort, laughing into your arm as Taehyung does the same. You grab his hand, lacing together your fingers as you bring his actions to a stop.

“babe, I'm serious. I just— I feel guilty sometimes.” You know that you shouldn’t, but it eats at you. “You’ve been friends since the third grade. I didn’t want to get in the middle of it.” Taehyung pulls away, a more serious expression on his features.

“I know. I do love kook— I always will, but it's his fault. If he can’t support us being together, then he’s just not a real one.”

You snicker at the phrase. “Just please let me know, okay? I understand, but I dunno. I always thought you guys would be each other's best man. Stupid things like that,” you hum, the fingers that were traveling up your back landed on your hip, playing with the band on your thong.

“I will. I’ll probably apologize to him soon, but not yet. I don’t want him watching my every move.” He grinned as he kissed you, trailing down your jaw. “Plus isn’t it fun like this? I think it’s a little sexier to fuck you in private.” You rolled your eyes, his cock hard against your thigh now as your face turns red.

“You’re so embarrassing,” you mumble, rolling over mentally. You’ll let the argument sit for tonight, hands resuming the schedule of moving down his navel until your nails hit the spot just under his boxers. Taehyung hums, rolling his cock into your hand.

Taehyung shrugs. “Stop acting so shy, you’re not a virgin,” he protests, hand on the back of your thigh as he brings it up against his hip, rutting into you like he was actually fucking you. “Not anymore at least.” Your face reddens as he mentioned it, remembering how you both had your first time together. But this wasn’t it. This was less innocent than you had been in the past.

You let out a soft moan at the action as he did it again, hand pressing to the fogged window as he grinned. He loved grinding against you, getting you more than riled up, his hand moving up your sternum. He’s quick with removing your bra, hickies from past endeavors laying on the skin of your chest. Taehyung has to lean back down, tongue lapping over your nipple, knowing he’s going to remark his territory.

It’s like electricity every time, your body hot against the cool leather of his chevy malibu. You love the way he toys with your nipples, biting them just enough to tease you, and not hurt you. He leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses to your ribcage, fingers dangerously low on your hip before they’re moving over your underwear. His fingers press against you through the fabric and you can start to feel it dampen as he rubs it slowly up and down.

“Fuck,” you whine, bucking into his hand. “Stop teasing.”

Taehyung’s eyes are shining with a new temptation, pulling your underwear down a bit to twist your clit between the pad of his fingers. His cock was definitely awake now, a dangerous grin on his face as he leaned over you.

“mmm, I think you should beg, like how you were doing last time.”

Your face bursts into flames at the reminder of how you were acting the last time. You’re not sure what the hell had gotten into you, but Taehyung was making you do a lot of embarrassing things. A part of you didn’t mind if it was pleasing him.

“Shut up,” you mumble, instantly whining at the loss of his fingers. He pulled your underwear back up to your hips and leaned back.

“So should I drive you home and drop you off while you’re pussy is dripping, or are you going to beg as I asked?” Fuck. You groaned, pulling him back. You definitely couldn’t go back home. “Did that hit a spot? You would be screwed if I made you go back home. You’d have to ride something to get rid of all this tension right here.” His fingers are moving the thong to the side, middle finger in down to the knuckle. You arch a little, his words making your head spin.

“Something to satisfy that greedy pussy like I do, and you can’t do that when your brother is in the next room, so I suggest you start begging, brat.”

You moan again, hand holding his forearm, nails digging into his skin. You loved it when he got like this. Dominant and demanding, god it made you crazy.

But begging was so embarrassing. “Fuck.. please—“

“Please, what?”

The blonde barely gave you time to even respond as he demanded another answer. You look up at him innocently, at least as innocently as you could with two of his fingers pumping your pussy.

“f-fuck me, please,” you begged, hips pushing down on his fingers eagerly as you bite your lip to muffle the noises. “hhh please fuck m-me into the seats, please.” You can tell he’s not satisfied. You wanted to curl and die from embarrassment. You knew you’d have to get lewder, his fingers working into you just right as your hand gripped the seatbelt dangling over your head.

“I dunno if you really want it,” he hummed normally, fingers coming out of you, glistening. He wastes no time sticking them into his mouth, cleaning them off.

You whined. “Please, I’ll d-do anything.. I’ll let you fuck my face against t-the window to sh-show everyone just how big your cock is— daddy.”

“Ohoho,” he laughed, not halting any actions as he pulls off your underwear to deposit it behind his head, pushing his boxers low enough to let his cock fall heavy on your slit. It wasn’t nearly enough, to feel it pulsing against your clit. “Keep going.” You can tell he’s living for the way you’re talking, eyes lidded as he’s fucking his cock up and down your folds, not daring to go inside.

“D-did daddy enjoy t-that name?” You try to act coy, but it fails. The bratty demeanor drops as his hand runs between the valley of your breasts, right onto your neck, applying force. “please... I want to feel y-your cock in m-my stoma—“ Taehyung watches your face as your words drop off, his cock moving into you at once until he physically couldn’t go anymore. You both were breathing heavily, the blonde unable to wait as his thumb moves over your lips.

“God you talk— so fucking sexy Y/N.” He pushed the thumb in your mouth and you immediately sucked on it, eyes watching him as he pulled out. He pushes his cock back in even harder, your back moving against the leather as his hand slips from the window to hold the back door handle. “You’re such a good.. a good girl when you b-beg for my cock.” The words light your stomach on fire. The past two times you guys had done anything, it was never like this. It was intimate and lustful sure. But it was pure. Right now, it was lust drive completely, Taehyung’s pupils blown out as he glared at you. You had never called each other names before, but you definitely reacted to what he said.

“m-move,” you choked out, lips running dry from how fast you were breathing. He grips your neck like a handle, hips snapping into yours as your leg moves off the side of the seat. “M-my fucking god… feels so fucking good.” Taehyung grins, leaning down to kiss you sloppily, licking into your mouth. You catch his tongue the best you can around the moans, his hips meeting yours every other second it seems. The soft radio plays tame impala in the background, but it doesn’t drown out the sound of his hips slapping your thighs, and the way he’s groaning.

It’s low enough to turn into a growl, the blonde’s eyes watch as he can see the faint outline of his dick in your stomach. The skin moves with him, and he’s fascinated by the hit, only fueling him to go deeper.

“Fucking look at that— fuck,” he moaned head tilted back a bit before he’s hovering over you. His chain dangles in your face as he fucks you hard enough that you’re convinced there’s gonna be bruises where he’s holding your hips for dear life. “Taking m-my cock like it’s the o-only thing you know how to do, and I bet it f-feels good in this tummy of yours huh?” You nod helplessly, whimpering as he grabs your hand and laces the fingers, pinning it to the leather behind your head.

“s-shit, hhh, it feels— god daddy it f-feels good,” you moan, voice cracking as he starts to move even faster. “D-do you l-like that name?”

He nods, eyes shutting for a bit as he looks up to the ceiling of the car, enjoying how tight you are around his cock. He takes the hand off of your neck, pinning both hands over your head as he absolutely drills you, making you whine.

“I do, fuck I do.. the way you say t-that and my fucking name—“ he chokes, pulling your legs up so he can get in at a deeper angle. “I h-have half the mind to fuck your f-face into this god d-damn seat.” Your eyes shut at the words, your high approaching dangerously close considering how deep he was in you. Eight inches didn’t go sparingly, rubbing against the best part of you, making your toes curl.

“t-then do it,” you challenge him, arching up into his chest as he kisses you to shut you the hell up. His head was spinning, loving the way your body reacted to him and opened up to him. He’s quick to forget about your hands, which are on him almost instantly as he regains the position on your neck.

“Y-you think I won’t?” God you fucking loved that voice. The low baritone sound of his words made you a mess. “T-think I won’t make you c-call Yoongi right now wh-while I slam this tight cunt into the ground.” You whined at it, his pace increasing as you gripped the seats, barely able to breathe as he choked you harder.

You’re honestly ready to cum, but as soon as the pleasure reached its peak, Taehyung was pulling out. You can’t even figure out which way is up before he’s grabbing you from between your thighs, flipping you over. It starts as soon as it stopped, his hand on the back of your neck as the side of your face is smushed to the seat.

Taehyung grins lazily, too fucked out for his own good as he slaps your ass loudly. You yelp at the action, jolting forward at the collision. “Look at this fucking ass.. n-never have I wanted to bury my cock into some—something so bad before.”

The blonde pushes his thumb into your wet cunt, spitting violently into your pussy, watching it drip. He followed it with his dick, filling you up instantly as you arched into the seats. His hand is twisting in your hair, wrapping around his fingers before he’s forcing you to look at the ceiling.

“I s-spit in that fucking cunt— cause it's mine,” he groaned, and you nodded the best you could. Your throat was tired, every moan bouncing with how hard he was fucking you, thighs trembling.

“taehyung— my god, tae,” you moaned, turning back a bit to see his ab muscles working overtime, moving tautly under the skin as he drilled you. “G-god I'm gonna—“

“Good girl,” he praised, watching sickly as his cock disappeared into your wet folds, watching your ass bounce with every thrust. “Cum on my cock, baby girl, please.” Now he was the one begging, voice getting whiny and airy, thrusts getting sloppy as he tried to keep hitting the spot he was. You couldn’t even think anymore, the slow climb to your climax was irritating almost, before you feel two pads against your clit, rubbing it side to side. You definitely weren’t going to last now, hips bucking as you tried to warn your boyfriend.

“g-god fucking damn,” Taehyung whined, feeling you squeeze him airtight before you cum hard on him.

You’re moaning over and over again, and a little too loudly for taehyung’s own liking, hand covering your mouth as he finally had come inside you too. He cursed loudly, not even fucking you anymore. He buried himself in you to let out his cum, groaning as he felt it flood your pussy.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathe, wanting to slump against the seat but Taehyung’s hand is keeping you steady. He pulls out his cock, whining at the feeling as he spreads your lips open to watch the cum fall out. You swat his hand away at the action, trying to catch your breath as you flip onto your back, pulling him gently by the chain to come to lay with you.

“You’re tight as hell,” he breathed, making you laugh loudly, still out of breath. He kissed your forehead softly, followed by your entire face, making sure you were okay. This was always the best part. The aftercare, and feeling how much he really cared for you as he cleaned you both up the best he could before forfeiting to exhaustion.

“You’re such an idiot,” you mumble finally as he lays with you again, kissing him slowly on the lips. “I love you.” Taehyung smiled at the words, turning you back as he kissed you back, holding you close. You didn’t care about Jungkook anymore. You loved him and you wanted him. No matter what that came with. You wanted to be with him.

“I love you too,” he mumbles, right against your lips before kissing you again. You wanted it to stay like this forever. Care-free, enjoyable. You know that once you get out of this car and return to your own, you’ll have to face your brother again. You’d have to keep facing him every day until you could come clean to him, and who knows how long that’ll be. For now, you relax into Taehyung’s arms. Who knows when you’d get a chance like this again.

The next morning was, as usual, the usual glow of sex on your face. You may have been a little sore, but you couldn’t care less. The night, any night with Taehyung, had you on cloud nine. You could tell he wanted you, not your body. He had worshipped you as no boy had done before. Your head was over the moon.

Even as a relief, it was still irritating to receive your period the next morning. You shuffle through the locker, grabbing the emergency tampons and shoving them into your pocket. The locker shuts and you’re ready to break it to the bathroom, but you’re almost clotheslined by an arm.

“Nice vampire bite.” The voice is venomous and sour. You already knew it was Yoongi before you ripped your eyes to meet his. “Another guy who is just using you.” You scoff while trying to move past him, but he’s larger than you. Encasing you to the lockers.

The laugh is evil. “You’re a fucking pussy, Y/N. You were sooo hurt by my comment that you had to send your brother's bitch of a lap dog to come ‘straighten me out’ huh?” Your heart is pounding in your ears, scared of what he was going to do next. You doubt he was going to do anything so drastic.

“Guess it didn’t stick with you, huh?” You retort quickly, watching as others were crowding the hallway because of the previous bell.

For that reason, he leans in. “If someone says they’re with you, for any other reason than fucking you? They’re lying.”

Your eyes water, failing to meet his gaze. You have half the mind to slap him, but you’re not even sure what you’re going to say next. Not when a flash of a blonde is grabbing the menace by his collar, pushing him back into the locker. The grip Taehyung has on his shirt is deadly, the usual pink hue to his knuckles are white out of anger. He pulls the raven-haired senior off the wall just to slam him again, teeth bared. Eyes narrowed, not backing down from the challenge. Any other day, you would’ve found this extremely hot.

“Say one more fucking thing about her.”`

Yoongi snorts. “Sorry, bitch boy, did I hit a nerve? Surprised you’re defending her after all the sneaking around you’ve been doing.” Taehyung didn’t even know how the fuck he knew about you guys, but he didn’t care. Taehyung was seeing red right now, taking every ounce of restraint he could muster to not crack his face. “Haven’t gotten tired of her yet? You will soon.”

“How the fuck would you know?” Taehyung snaps. “Why do you even care? It’s been almost two months.” Yoongi’s eyes snap over to you, noticing Jungkook right by your side as he tries to guide you away. You’re frozen.

“Why do you care? You aren’t even together— all you are is Jungkook’s bitch.” Taehyung couldn’t keep it together anymore, ready to wind back his arm before he notices the crowd, his former best friend front, and center. He backs as quickly as he tackled him, ready to walk to his next class. “Right, wouldn’t want to expose our little secret? Cause what the fuck is she to you?”

Taehyung turns on his heels, arm pulling back as he wound up to hit him before a large hand is holding his. It was the school security, pushing Taehyung towards the office. He turned to check on you, eyes wide as you and your brother were absent. The blonde had to sit in the office and listen to an hour of scolding, finally getting off with detention. He doesn’t even bother going home, immediately making his way to your house.

He thought a lot about what had happened, a pit turning in his stomach. He probably just confirmed any of Jungkook’s suspicions, watching him freak out over you like that. But the blonde didn’t care. Part of him was hoping you weren’t home facing Jungkook’s wrath, and another part of him was proud of what happened today. If anything, that showed Jungkook how much Taehyung really cared for you.

None of that mattered. Jungkook would still pick his own side.

The said raven was watching you sleep peacefully. He couldn’t believe that two boys were fighting over his little sister, one being his best friend. It was so idiotic and pointless. He’s a little relieved that Taehyung was there for you, but he couldn’t ignore what Yoongi said. ‘Your little secret’? He suspected they were meeting up behind his back, and that only enraged him even more. He didn’t want to have to deal with another boy breaking your heart.

Would Taehyung ever do that?

Jungkook is startled out of his thoughts at the sound of the doorbell, opening it to see Taehyung. Both of their stomachs are wrenching in their core, the still silence is unsettling. Never in his life did Taehyung think there would be a sour moment, yet here it was.

“She’s asleep. What do you need?” The tone hurts. It’s sour and stern, and foreign. A tone that he’s never heard come out of Jungkook’s mouth, and it makes him lose his train of thought. His fingers play idly with the strings on his sweater.

He inhales. “Dude, look. I know— I fucked up, and I’m sorry. You know I would never hurt her like that. Even if I did, I know the consequences.” Taehyung wanted to roll over and just apologize, but he needed to stand his ground. “What has you so bent? You know me, Kook. What’s so bad about us being together if we’re both happy.”

Jungkook shakes his head, arms crossed. “That’s not the point.”

“How is it not?”

“You went behind my back and got with her, even after I told you not to— the one thing I ask you not to do, and you do it. It puts me in an uncomfortable situation, and now it is for her too.”

Taehyung scoffs. “Because of Yoongi? What the hell did you want me to do? If you were there and heard him talking that way about her, you would’ve done the same.” Taehyungs anger is boiling now, thinking about the situation. “But you weren’t, so I had to do your job and take care of it.”

Taehyung immediately regrets saying that, considering the door slams in his face. He groans. I’m a fucking idiot.

The Blonde trudged back to his own house, head full. He knew all of this was a bad idea, hence why he was hesitant to be with you in the first place. Unfortunately, once he had been with you, the want was overbearing. To just give it up over one stupid day? He couldn’t just let you go.

Taehyung finally feels some weight drop as he falls into bed, more exhausted than he’s ever been in a while. The frame on his bedside tables hurts the familiar faces of you and Jungkook alongside the blonde on his sixteenth birthday. He had the biggest crush on you ever and to be honest, he’s not sure he’s stopped ever since you bandaged his knee in the third grade. It sounds so fucking dumb, but he can’t help smiling at the thought.

It makes sense why none of his other relationships worked out, considering he was always looking for you in other girlfriends. That's why He can’t let you go, and it’s why his heart leaps when he sees you calling.

“Hey,” he breathes, relief flooding his body. You take a bit to respond, chewing words around in your mouth.

“Hey... I heard you and Jungkook outside so.. thank you, for dealing with Yoongi.”

Taehyung stammered. “You’re not mad?”

“Well,” you sigh, laying back into your pillows. “I don’t agree with how you handled it, but.. you did it for me, and I love you for that.” Taehyung’s heart restarts as he sits up, a dorky smile on his face.

“I love you too, Y/N…” You smiled, butterflies as you sighed. It made you happy to hear that. “Tomorrow, I’m gonna talk to Jungkook and see why he’s really bent. Maybe I’ll change his mind.”

You shrug. “I dunno if he’ll ever get over it, it really irritates him.” You could not pinpoint why, and it irritated you even more.

“I know, but I have to try.” Taehyung groaned. He was a simp. “Imma see what the real reason is.”

Even as you two talked on the phone, it lifted your mind. After everything with Yoongi today, your mind racing as it finally relaxes once you settle into bed. Taehyung’s voice runs through your ears and you think about the couple of months you’ve had with him. A little carefree and mischievous. You just wanted to go back, and not have to face anything tomorrow.

The morning is lonely for Taehyung. A morning where usually it would be him and Jungkook, it was just him. No texts, no screenshots from the game last night, no sitting in his car while all of you sang horrible karaoke. It just wasn’t the same, and he hated pretending like it was. He finally got to school, opening his locker. The day was just as dull, sitting alone at lunch while you and your brother sat with his friends. You wanted to sit with him so badly, but you knew that Jungkook and Taehyung had to resolve things before you could be together. And it was so dramatic, and for what?

You stabbed at the pasta your mom had cooked last night, eyeing the devils incarnate across the room. Yoongi’s eyes were on you and you wanted to do nothing more than shoving his face into his cold pizza. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to start more drama. You wanted to go home and have a nice calm weekend… texting your boyfriend… who wasn’t yours but, it’s all the same.

The day gets duller as it goes on for both parties. Taehyung is mulling through the last period of the day. Of course, it was math.

He gated algebra and it blows that it’s the last fucking class. He feels refreshed once the last bell rings, but the walk to his locker is just as lonely as the last month had been feeling. Taehyung unlocked his locker, ready to just leave already. He would be angrily shoving books into his locker now before a picture falls freely out of his locker. He can barely recognize the interior of his car before it feels like everyone is staring at him.

His throat is so fucking dry, he can barely breathe. He picks up the photo, stomach-dropping into his fucking ass.

His brown eyes round the hallway, seeing everyone has received the same picture, and everyone was staring at him.

He had never run so fast in his life once his brain had processed what was happening. He rounds the corner, to see your locker and you’re not there. But it’s wide fucking open, thousands of copies scattered on the floor and the metal door. Jungkook stood, motionless and silent, as he looked at the photos. A million pictures of his best friend and his sister— making out in a car. Taehyung, who was still stumbling over his shock, had watched Jungkook slam the locker shut and approach him. God he was ready to shit his pants, for his life was about to flash before his eyes. He braced his muscles for any form of attack. It doesn’t come.

“Open your eyes, shit head.”

Taehyung blinked an eye open. “You aren’t gonna kick my ass?”

“No,” he grumbled. Taehyung wanted to laugh considering that nickname from him sounded so good. Like they were back to normal. “Now isn't the time to be worried about you and my sister, fuck. that. I’m not worried about this, I’m worried about what fucking prick would send this shit around, she’s a fucking minor.” There, Taehyung can see it. Jungkook’s scared. He’s scared for his sister, and if they had switched places, Taehyung would feel the same way. He can understand where Jungkook is coming from now, with his entire argument. He wanted to protect her from assholes like this, and as much as Taehyung could argue with him; he’ll never understand what it was like to have a baby sister.

But he drops it to save his ass. Taehyung remembers to breathe once his shirt gets dropped, but he’s still being pulled back towards his locker. Jungkook collecting all the pictures he can, shoving them deep into the trash. Cause fuck this. Jungkook hated the idea of them together, and truthfully he has no clue why. He wants to protect her, but there’s another layer. That aside, they were gonna find out who the hell did this.

“Kook. you need me to spell it o—“

Jungkook slammed a poor kid into a locker to grab the picture from him, ripping it in half. “The moment I find out who the fuck this is, I’m gonna smash his face into the fucking ground.” Jungkook was filled with rage, disposing every last picture he possibly could before dragging Taehyung out to the lot. He shoved his bag into the backseat, holding the raven in place.

“Bro,” he said calmly, looking at his best friend. “Who else? it’s Yoongi. he was talking all that shit in the hallways, like who else?” Jungkook nodded. it made sense. Yoongi was a prideful person, but who else would go through the trouble of humiliating her like this.

“So what now?”

Taehyung shrugged, leaning against the hood of his car. “The only thing I’m thinking of is that we go kick his fucking ass.” Jungkook rounded the car quickly as they both got in, engine revving.

“Sounds like a plan.”

The drive to Yoongi’s hangout was silent. It was a little bittersweet that they were going to kick his ass in the same parking lot where those pictures took place. Taehyung was admittedly a little nervous. He knew you didn’t like fights or conflict and this was the opposite of everything you didn’t like. If he wanted to make a point, that’s a decision he’d have to live with.

Jungkook grumbled irritably. “God, the moment I see him I’m gonna rip his head off. What a fucking— oh my god.” The raven’s voice cut off as they pulled up to the bowling alley, noticing Yoongi there with three of his friends. The two shared a look, and they were both scared shitless.

“How are we gonna beat them? Four against two ain’t fair,” Taehyung whined, Jungkook throwing the car into park. Jungkook was trying to strategize in his head, but the only conclusion he had was to face this shit head-on. They both exit the car, rounding the lot to meet the four sitting on the edge of Yoongi’s car.

Yoongi’s the first to notice, jumping a bit but posing like he was a threat once his friends noticed.

“So, it is true that you’re his lapdog?” Yoongi laughed. “I was right about you, and in the hallway, I bet you wanted to kick my ass huh?”

Taehyung stepped forward. “I want to kick your fucking ass right now. Where you the one who printed out those pictures?”

“Yeah.”

He admitted it effortlessly, the plain smirk on his smug face was seriously pissing Taehyung off.

“What the fuck for?” Taehyung’s fists were balled as the elder boy stepped closer, unable to resist punching him in the face.

Yoongi shrugged. “‘Cause I wanted her to see that every boy she’ll ever meet wants to fuck her; nothing more, nothing less.”

Taehyung wasn’t sure if that was a backhanded compliment or not, but Jungkook was the first to jump. His fist connected with Yoongi’s jaw followed by a loud crack. That’s when the fight broke out.

You sat in your bed, bundled in your brother's sweatshirt as you flipped through Netflix on your mac. You were barely paying attention considering you were chewing off all your nails. You hadn’t heard from Jungkook or Taehyung since you had left school. You were a little distraught, but honestly, there was a big event every week at your school and you prayed this would blow over. You knew it was Yoongi anyways and you kind of figured that those two idiots would have done something by now. Or maybe Jungkook still wouldn’t forgive him after this. Maybe they would still be mad— maybe they weren’t even together.

Your head was swarming with thoughts but you were too exhausted to pick up the phone. You turn to another episode of some random crime show, laying back into the mountain of pillows before your stomach lurches at the sound of a car door. Two doors to be exact, and they slam shut. You spring from the bed, racing to the top of the stairs. Your eyes meet with two boys.

“You’re fucking crazy,” Taehyung laughs, wiping the blood that’s dripping from his nose while Jungkook’s laugh rings through the previously silent house. It was like music to hear them laughing together, shoulders bumping as they made it into the entryway of the house. It takes a bit to realize that they’ve had their asses kicked. Like they were jumped.

You race down the stairs. “Oh my god. what the hell happened?” Jungkook’s lip was split, eye bruising slowly as he limped over to you. “Did you two idiots get hit by a car or something?” The two laugh in sync, fist-bumping each other as Jungkook waves off the concern.

“Believe it or not, we won.”

You snort. “Won what?” Taehyung kicks off his shoes, holding his sleeve to his nose. You notice his eyebrow is split as well, knuckles bruised.

“We went and kicked Yoongi’s ass. He had some randoms with him but we came through in the end,” Jungkook breathed. “I’m glad you were there with me, bro.” You let your heart warm for them. You knew they were hurting, watching the two boys hug. You knew they meant it, them both pulling away as Jungkook hugged you as well.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do more when Yoongi was first acting up. I should’ve straightened him out the first night you told him about us.”

You shake your head, hugging him tighter. “Shut up. You just got your ass handed to you, don’t apologize.” You three laugh and god, it feels good. It feels normal until your eyes linger on Taehyung slowly. You wanted to hug him and kiss him, despite his face being bloody. You’re ready to retreat to the kitchen, but Jungkook stops you. He pushes you towards the blonde while he starts to rummage the fridge for ice.

You’re hesitant and so is Taehyung, but once you felt it was okay, you moved. It felt free and honest, holding his face in your hands to kiss him. He returns it with equal force, slow and meaningful. He pulls away, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Yoongi won’t be a problem anymore,” Taehyung breathed, hands on your waist.

You laugh sadly, thumbing over the mark on his eyebrow. “You barely made it out alive, dork… but thank you. Seriously, both of you,” You mumble, eyes looking to your brother. You’re ready to start a speech but Taehyung cuts you off, the blonde practically trembling next to you.

“I know this may be weird, but I’m sorry for sneaking around with your sister. This is gonna sound so formal and cheesy, and it’s making me want to puke, but I love her a—“

Jungkook groans. “God just shut up.” Jungkook was doubled over, fake puking noises coming from his mouth. You laugh a little, a thousand weights off of your shoulder as your fingers lace with Taehyung’s. “I was a little mad in the beginning cause you’re my baby sister… and you’re my best friend. That put’s me in a difficult spot.”

He continues. “Even so, I can tell that it won’t be an issue. Taehyung cares about you, I can see that now. Especially with how hard he was kicking that idiot’s ass—“ You snort, punching Jungkook’s arm. But he shrugs. “I’m serious. I’m fine with you guys. I want you to be happy and if that’s with each other, I can live with that.” You hum happily, pulling them both into a group hug. The love you felt from both of them was radiating.

Of course, Jungkook had to ruin the moment.

“I better not see you guys making out, or I will throw up on you, got it?”

You and Taehyung swear to him, laughing as you three trailed to the kitchen so you could start healing their cuts. Jungkook, however, falls behind. His heart feels heavy and before he had no clue why. He watched you two kiss, the hand on your waist making his stomach drop. He knows now why he didn’t want you guys to be together.

He didn’t want to share Taehyung with you for a specific reason. One he’s not ready to admit yet.

He knows it’s resentful and jealous.

#bts #bts smut #kim taehyung #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #v x reader #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook

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derangedangel · 3 years

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Kiss Interrupted - Klaus Mikaelson

Summary: Almost kiss, but interrupted for @idkhaylijah’s 3k followers challenge

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Word Count: 3,663

Author’s Note: Watch Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist which inspired this fic... okay it’s literally the base of this fic. Also, I didn’t realize until half way through it should be under 2k... sorry lol. Also the dress description I tried to give is the dress from Anastasia when she goes to the ballet. I haven’t posted in almost a year so be gentle please.

It was a quiet afternoon in the Mikaelson home and you were enjoying a lunch with Rebekah. These moments where rare and few. You told your friend you didn’t feel like going out so she had lunch brought to the two of you. The dining table was set up beautifully so you still felt like you were dinging at one of New Orleans’s finest restaurants. Elijah was off to the side, enjoying a new novel.

“Dear sister, why didn’t I receive an invitation to your lunch,” Klaus asked making his presence known as he entered from his study.

Rebecca sighed placing her raspberry lemonade down before she acknowledged her annoying brother. “Nik, if you want to go on a lunch date with Y/N, just ask her yourself,” she quipped then smirked at Klaus.

Your eyes grew as you paused mid-fork lift at Rebekah’s statement.

Klaus replied quickly, no one noticing you get flustered at the thought of Klaus and you on a date. “I just wanted to bond with my little sister.”

“Oh, rubbish,” Rebekah said.

After you regained your composure you spoke up. “Would you care to join us, Klaus? There’s plenty of food.”

Rebekah spoke up before Klaus could respond. “Don’t offer him anything, Y/N. He’s just trying to bother us.”

Ignoring his sister Klaus smiled at you and said, “Thank you, love, but I’ll pass.”

“See, you don’t have to be nice to him,” Rebekah said, taking another sip of her drink.

“I like your family, Beks,” you replied, smiling at your friend. “In fact, I was thinking about having a dinner for my birthday next week if you would all like to come,” you asked looking at each of the Mikaelsons in the room.

Rebekah looked at you in shock. “Your birthday is next week?! How did I not know this?”

“Well, we’ve only know each other for a little over a year and last year when it was my birthday you Mikaelsons were having one of your... wars in the quarter,” you answered Rebekah but eyed Klaus at the last part of your sentence.

Klaus raised his hands up in defense. “Don’t blame me. Blame the witches.”

“No friend of mine’s is just going to have a bloody dinner for her birthday,” Rebekah protested.

“Rebekah, I’ve had 49 other birthdays before this one. It’s no big deal,” you said nonchalantly before you took another bite of your meal.

“You’re turning 50,” Rebekah practically screeched.

“Yeah. I’m a vampire, birthdays really don’t mean much anymore. I’m fine with a quiet dinner. I don’t need a lot of fuss over it.”

“Oh poppycock, Y/N. Fifty is a huge deal, regardless of the fact that you’re a vampire now. I’m throwing you a party. End of discussion,” Rebekah said then wiped the side of her mouth with her napkin and preceded to get up.

“You really don’t ha-,” you began to say but Rebekah interrupted you.

“No, I don’t want to hear it. The party is already in motion. And you deserve it.”

Elijah finally spoke up from his quiet corner, flipping the page in his book as he spoke. “There’s no use in fighting it, Y/N. Once my sister has plans for an event in her head, there’s no stopping her.”

You sighed, “Fine, do what you must Rebekah.”

“Fantastic,” Rebekah said clasping her hands together in joy. “And you won’t have to worry about a thing. I’ll start planning right now.”

~.~

A few days later, you were once again at the Mikaelson home. It started to feel like you were there more than you were at your own place. But as a vampire, you had nothing but time and wanted to spend it with people you cared about.

You sat at the kitchen counter while Klaus poured you some blood.

“How’s the party planning going,” Klaus asked making eye contact with you as he finished pouring.

“I wouldn’t know. The only thing Bekah asked me about was a guest list and colors. She told me to come over this morning and that’s all I know.”

“I suppose she’s staying to true to the part about you not having to worry then,” Klaus said. He poured himself a glass of blood as well, but was standing on the other side of the counter. You were happy with the distance. For the past few months, something was brewing between you and the hybrid. You tried to ignore it. It was wrong. Klaus was Rebekah’s brother. He had a daughter to worry about and a city to rule. Not to mention, you knew he was trouble. It was best just to be strictly platonic with Klaus.

“I wish that were the case. From what I’ve seen, she’s going all out. A huge ball, which is completely unnecessary. And, no offense, but I’ve heard whenever you Mikaelsons throw a ball, something bad goes down.”

Klaus took a sip from his glass and titled his head. “In our defense, when we through a ball, it’s usually a ploy to find out what the wolves, witches, or other vampires are up too, or stake our claim in a new town.”

“So your record of successful, nondeath having balls would be?”

Klaus paused and thought for a moment. “None.”

“See,” you shouted pointing out the potential problem with your birthday party.

A small smile graced Klaus’s face as he shook his head. “I’m sure your birthday will be the exception to that record.”

“How do you know,” you asked worried. Klaus began to move closer to your side of the counter.

“No one would dare ruin a ball in your honor,” Klaus answered in a slightly serious tone.

“Okay, but how do you know that? Things have been pretty good for your family lately. And what would be a better time to strike than at a ball?”

“I wouldn’t allow anything to ruin your night. I’ll make sure the entirety of New Orleans knows not to try anything on Saturday night. They can burn down the city on Sunday for all I care, but I’ll rip their throats out if they try anything on Saturday,” Klaus replied. Somehow in your worriedness over your party, Klaus ended up right in front of you.

You chuckled at Klaus’s statement. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course.”

The two of you stared at each other in silence. Klaus could hear your heart pounding in your chest and you knew it from the way he smirked. He glanced down at your lips and you swallowed out of nervousness. He began to lean in slowly and you knew what was coming. You wanted this to happen. You had imagined how Klaus’s lips would feel against your own and it was finally about to happen. Forget your hesitance about why you should just be friends. You wanted him.

Your eyelids fluttered closed but then the two of you jumped apart at the sound of footsteps approaching the kitchen.

“Y/N,” Hope shouted excitedly.

“Hope,” you replied just as excitedly trying to ignore the pit in your stomach from almost kissing Klaus.

“Aunt Beks told me all about your party and I was wondering...,” she started then lingered hoping you would get the hit before she even had to ask.

You nodded smiling at the teenager. “Yes, Hope, you can invited whatever boy you have in mind.”

“Thank you,” she said eagerly as she hugged you.

“Boy?” Klaus perked up from where he now stood behind the counter again. “What boy?”

Hope looked to her father, but you spoke up before things had to get awkward between the lovestruck teenager and her overprotective father. “Oh Klaus, let the girl bring a date. It’s my party and I’m allowing it.”

“Well she’s my daughter,” Klaus replied.

“And it’s my party,” you said, eyes gleaming at Klaus. You had a sort of confidence at the fact that Klaus was going to kiss you. A boost in your ego if you will. “You wouldn’t deny the birthday girl what she wants on her birthday, would you?”

Klaus leaned over the counter smirking at you. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smiled back knowingly at him.

You were a little lost in Klaus’s eyes so you didn’t initially notice when Rebekah entered the room.

“Alright, we’re already getting a late start. We’ve got to get moving, Y/N,” Rebekah said.

You turned away from Klaus to face your friend. “A late start on what, Bekah?”

“Dress shopping,” Rebekah said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. We have to find you a gown and have a seamstress tailor it to you. You have to look absolutely flawless on Saturday. I want it to look like you were born in that dress.”

You sighed closing your eyes to prepare yourself for the long day you knew you were about to have. Granted, you loved an extravagant gown and didn’t usually have a reason to wear one. But you knew Rebekah in party planning mode wasn’t going to be easy to deal with. “Fine, let me grab my bag and we can go.”

“Can I come too,” Hope asked looking between you and her aunt.

“Of course,” you smiled, happy to bring a buffer between you and Rebekah.

~.~

You were currently in your fourth dress. “Rebekah this is Hopeless.”

“I’m literally right here,” Hope said being cheeky.

You scowled at her joke and turned in the mirror. “I’m not loving any of these dresses. And this is our second store!”

“Be patient, darling,” Rebekah said as she went though another rack of dresses. “The prefect dress is here somewhere. Well, at least the perfect last minute dress.”

“Oh and speaking of last minute,” you said, stepping off the podium that was in front of the mirror, “I don’t have a date. How am I supposed to go to my own birthday ball dateless?”

“With the party I’m planning and the guest who will be trying to schmooze with you, you won’t even have time to entertain a date. And I’ll be busy on hostess duty so when I’m not with Marcel, you can dance with him.”

“Oh joy,” you said sarcastically turning on your heel.

“And I’m sure one of my brothers will be loitering around somewhere. You can dance with one of them,” Rebekah said nonchalantly. Good thing she was busy looking at dresses or she would have seen your checks grow hot at the thought of dancing with Klaus.

You walked over to another rack of dresses hoping to find the perfect one for your party. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw it. The perfect, show stopping, all eyes on you dress you had been searching for.

“Beks... I found it.”

Rebekah approached you and saw the dress you were holding so delicately in your hands. “You haven’t even tried it on yet.”

“I don’t need too. I already know.” You held the dress up to your body feeling the velvet material against your skin. “You think this is how brides feel when they find their wedding dress?”

Rebekah sighed, “I wouldn’t know.”

~.~

After what felt like the longest week of your life, it was finally the night of your party. Rebekah made sure everything was taken care of, including having someone to do your hair and makeup. She even pulled out some old diamonds to go with your outfit. She mentioned something about a duchess owning them once, but your were to busy being blinded by the extravagant necklace to care.

“Alright, the guest are starting to arrive,” Rebekah announced as she came into her room witch was your designated dressing room for the night.

“Great! I’m ready,” you said standing up from your spot in front of the vanity.

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere yet.”

“Why not,” you asked highly confused.

“You have to make an entrance! And you can’t do that with only ten people here,” Rebekah answered like you were out of your mind for even considering going down stairs.

You sat back down sighing. “So how long do I have to wait?”

“About thirty minutes.”

“What? But I’m ready now and-,” you began to say but Rebekah cut you off.

“No buts. You’ll thank me for it later when you see all those adoring people fawning over how incredible you look.”

“Fine,” you said crossing your arms over your chest. “Whatever.”

Thirty minutes later exactly, Rebekah returned and told you it was time. You left her room then waited for her to properly announce you before you made your way to the top of the stairs. She was right. It felt good to have everyone awing at how amazing you looked. You began to descend the stairs careful not to fall. Once you made it a few steps down, you saw Elijah ascend the stairs. Once he reached you, he held out his hand to escort you the rest of the way.

You smiled to the partygoers but spoke to the noble Mikaelson. “Thank you, Elijah. I was nervous I would tumble down these stairs then have to abruptly end the party out of embarrassment.”

Elijah kept his eyes forward as he lead you down the final steps. “You are more than welcome, Y/N. We couldn’t have the birthday girl enter her own party without a proper escort.”

You turned and smiled at him once you reached the bottom of the stairs. “We couldn’t,” you said then reached up to peck Elijah on the cheek. Out of the corner of your eye, you could have sworn you saw Klaus scowl at his older brother.

The party was going smoothly. Rebekah did an incredible job and was a great hostess. Every passing minute, you worries about a potential Mikaleson threat ruining the night faded away. You danced with Marcel twice, and Elijah excused himself from Hayley to dance with you. Hope was having a wonderful time with her date, and as far as you could tell, Klaus hadn’t threatened the young man at all. Speaking of Klaus, you hadn’t seen much of him the whole night.

The live band Rebekah hired switch to a new slow song and you quickly recognized the instrumental ballad they were playing.

“I love this song,” you said softly to yourself.

“Pardon me,” you heard a low accented voice say from behind you and you turned.

“Would the birthday girl care to join me for a dance,” Klaus asked, his hand outstretched to you.

You tried to control you smile, but it grew wide and bright. “I’d love to,” you answered, then placed your hand in Klaus’s.

Klaus walked you to the dancefloor then slowly wrapped his hand around the small of your back and raised your join hands together.

“It’s about time you spoke to me tonight,” you said, being the first to break the silence. “I was beginning to think an enemy crashed my party and you were handling it.”

“I spent the past week threatening every supernatural creature within a 500 mile radius so that very thing would not happen,” Klaus said.

Klaus was light on his feet. Elijah danced very formally. His steps were calculated. Marcel’s steps were more on the modern side. He danced to more upbeat songs with you. Saving the slow ones for Rebekah, so he could hold her close. Klaus was... smooth. You could tell he had the same classical dance style as his older brother, but he wasn’t as focused on making the next perfect step. He was graceful, but carefree.

“Please forgive me for not finding you earlier to tell you how ravishing you look,” Klaus said making you blush and look away from his piercing eyes. Although it felt like Klaus was ghost for most of the night, his eyes didn’t leave you wherever you went in the room. From the moment you entered the party, his eyes were glued to you. He was jealous he didn’t get to help you down the stairs. Your navy dress fit you like a glove. The sparkles on the cape-like feature always hit the light just right so you couldn’t be missed. He wished you weren’t wearing gloves so he could feel the velvet soft skin of your hand against his.

“Thank you. It was all Rebekah honestly,” you said then looked back up into Klaus’s eyes, “she put all this together. I just picked out the dress.”

“No,” Klaus said softly shaking his head at you. You tilted your head in question at his response. “Do not give my sister the credit. Yes, she may have helped with your hair and the makeup, but even without that, you would still be breathtaking.”

After that compliment you were sure you would have a permeant smile on your face for the rest of the night. You didn’t know how to respond to Klaus’s sweet words. Your hand that was placed on his shoulder gently went to the nape of his neck. You moved in closer to him so your chests were now pressed against each other. Klaus’s grip around your waist tightened. There was a warmth in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. He began to lean down and your eyes fluttered shut.

“May I have everyone’s attention,” Rebekah’s voice boomed around the room without the need for a mic in her hands.

The bleak feeling of disappointment overtook you and Klaus as you pulled apart. Your hand glided down his arm, wanting to remain touching him in some way.

“If the birthday girl would please come to the front so...”

~.~

The party was basically over now. Just a few stragglers left. Everything went off without a hitch. You couldn’t have asked for a better night. Well, there was one thing you could ask for.

“Klaus?”

Klaus was alone on the balcony. Typical dramatic Mikaelson.

He turned when you called his name. Your silhouette was perfect against the night sky. “Shouldn’t you be inside entertaining guest,” Klaus asked.

“I’m all party-ied out now,” you said then chuckled. A short breeze came by making you shiver as you reached Klaus near the railing.

“Here,” Klaus said, taking off his suit jacket and placing it over your shoulders. His hands lingered on you arms. “You should be inside.”

You tried to ignore the thud of you heart against your rib cage so you could speak. “You should be inside, too,” you pointed out, seeing as he was outside before you.

“Thousand year old hybrid here, love,” Klaus said smiling down at you. His hands left your arms and were now in his pant’s pockets.

“Fifty year old vampire here, Nik,” you stated being a smartass.

Klaus shook his head as he laughed. “I think I may have you beat by a few hundred years.”

“Yeah, well, I should be fine out here as long as you’re here,” you said turning to the balcony, no longer looking at him.

There it was again. That warmth he felt when he was around you. It was like sunshine after a long and dark snowstorm. He felt light, at ease with you.

“You will be,” Klaus said. You turned your head to look at him and he was smirking at you.

You felt nervous and giddy at the same time. Like a high schooler texting a new crush. “What,” you asked smiling at him.

“You...,” Klaus said, his eyes trailed over your body. “You’re remarkable. I’ve done a countless amount of horrible things, but somehow, I’ve gotten the chance to know you... and you’re incredible.”

Your nerves were getting the best of you. Once again, you tried your best to control you smile, but you face was getting hot. “Klaus...,” you mutter, his name coming off your lips like a secret you wanted to keep for yourself. You nudged him lightly with your hand in a playful matter, but he grabbed it. His eyes serious on you.

He pulled you in closer. Your eyes searching his face for an answer to the thousands of questions that were going through your head. Suddenly, he let go of your hand and walked away. You were shocked to say the least. Blinking back utter confusion.

Klaus walked up to the balcony doors and shut them. He turned around and faced you, a devilish grin on his face. “So we don’t get interrupted this time.”

Your shoulders relaxed as you smiled. Your sudden confusion melting away and turning to joy. “Good thinking.”

Klaus took wide steps towards you, meeting you most of the way as you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his shoulders once he reached you. His hands gripped your waist. His lips finally collided with yours. No interruptions. No worrying about what other people would think, or reasons why this could be a bad idea. Just you and him.

It was a good thing that the two of you were already dead, because the kiss was heart stopping. You removed your gloves earlier in the night, so your delicate hands were roaming through his hair as the kiss grew more intense.

A flame ignited in Klaus’s chest from your touch. Your kiss was intoxicating and he knew he would never get enough. Why did he wait so long to do this again?

Klaus pulled back just as breathless as you. His hands rested respectfully on your lower back, while one of your hands was on his chest and the other in his hair.

“Happy birthday, Y/N, ” Klaus said softly.

In you post kiss daze you replied, “huh?”

“It’s after midnight,” Klaus explained. “You’re party was on Saturday, but now it’s Sunday. So it’s officially your birthday.”

A warm feeling grew in your tummy. This man already knew you so well. “Thank you,” you said gleaming up at him. You were already in deep with Klaus. There was no turning back now.

“You’re welcome, love,” Klaus replied. His hand now cupping your cheek as he gazed into your eyes.

“Best. Birthday. Ever.”

#idkhaylijah3k #klaus mikaelson x reader #Klaus Mikaelson #The originals #the originals fanfiction

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

shut in [7]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, implied abuse, death, implied ptsd, injuries, broken bone, origami and paper planes

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: ONE MORE WEEK !!!!!!!!! ONE MORE WEEK !!!!!!!! also gif is somewhat related except steve isn’t there sorry to crush any hopes

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! also if you want to be on the taglist, it’s mentioned at the bottom of the chapter.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“Is there a reason you’re back so early?”

Both of the men nervously glanced at each other, silently urging the other to talk. A quiet form of encouragement.

“We chec- we checked all the neighbouring towns. All your safehouses,” one of them finally sputtered up after his partner elbowed him in the ribs.

“And?”

“We coordinated with all our guys across the country to look for them-”

“All I’m hearing are a bunch of excuses,” they twirled the gun on its barrel like it was a plaything. “Get to the point.”

“No one knows where they’re hiding,” he finished, swallowing thickly. “We’re still looking though. We just thought-”

“What?” their voice was surprisingly calm. “That your little status update would impress me? That I’d feel sorry for you for working so hard?”

“N-no boss,” his partner finally pitched in, saving face for his companion who opened and shut his mouth wordlessly. “Just keeping you in the loop. We’re close, I can feel-”

“Do you remember what I told you the last time you were here?”

Both of them shut their mouths immediately. Knuckles white, nails digging into their skin as they clenched their fists shut.

“That you wanted them dead,” the first one said with faux confidence. A waver in his voice gave it away.

“Yes, but you’re forgetting the important part,” they tsk’ed, shaking their head, eyes downcast.

They didn’t give anyone a chance to react. They slammed the gun down, swiftly picking it up before taking aim at his partner’s face.

“I said I’d blow your brains out.” They pulled the trigger.

Bits of bone fragment and blood splattered across the first agent’s face. He inhaled sharply, chest rising and falling haphazardly. He had his eyes shut tightly, face away from the carcass slumped over next to him..

“I want every fucking part of this country searched,” they roared, throwing the gun to the side carelessly, leaving someone else to scurry after it. “And since it’s so fucking hard for you to finish two tasks, just get me their location.”

The agent barely nodded, looking like he was about to throw up. His partner’s blood trailed down the side of his face like sweat.

“I’ll kill them myself.”

Hugh Grant was starting to look less appealing on your 6th rewatch of Notting Hill. In fact, he was starting to blend together with the characters from Die Hard and it was becoming difficult to differentiate which part belonged to which movie.

Sam sat opposite to you at the dining table, a set of papers assigned in front of him. The TV was left on, serving as background noise and occasional fillers to substitute the lack of conversation.

“That movie is not making sense anymore,” he stated objectively.

“It stopped after the third time for me.” Your words were hushed, your focus remaining on the swan you were trying to create from scratch.

“If I hear her say ‘I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy’ one more time, I actually think I’ll projectile vomit.” You could tell that his eyes didn’t shift from the screen though. “I can feel the bile. It’s going to happen.”

You only hummed in agreement, more interested in his lamenting than the actual movie.

Although origami wasn’t one of the skills you picked up in the fucking mafia, you still knew a few basic things. The rest you just folded with confidence and prayed it would work.

What other options did you have when you were stuck together in a house with no WiFi?

Sam had made a paper bowl to hold the car keys and the few dollars you picked up from Pierce’s place. It looked like it would fall apart at any given moment, its structural integrity questionable at best.

You had made a small flower that rested on the table in front of you. You were sure it would go missing the minute a draft entered the room.

He had given up after his contribution of the bowl. Apparently his creative expertise extended only towards that and paper airplanes, not that that stopped him. He was folding and manufacturing them with a vengeance.

“How is this supposed to help, Wilson?” you questioned, unable to contain the smile that grew on your face at the sheer number of planes he was making.

“Just because it’s not a decorative marvel-” he shot back in its defence, “-doesn’t mean it’s useless.”

“Oh, yeah? What else can it do other than not fly?” You watched as he launched one of them. It did a loop before falling miserably to the floor.

“Hey, you can put a message in it. Maybe one of those button trackers, a microphone. The possibilities are endless.” He laughed, folding another one out of the limited supply of paper he had left. “Besides, your thing won’t even lift off the ground.”

“Yeah, but this one can float.” You held up the swan that you had created. That about concluded your knowledge of origami.

“That’s actually… pretty cool,” he admitted. “Teach me how to make one.”

“A true master never reveals their secrets,” you eluded, placing it on the table.

“I dare you to make another.” Sneaky bastard. He knew you wouldn’t be able to replicate it. He saw you struggle the first time.

“Why, so you can just copy off of me?” you dodged, and Sam narrowed his eyes at you. You followed the same.

Neither of you blinked for a while.

“I’m out of paper,” he finally relented, gesturing to the fleet of planes that littered the table.

“I’m out of ideas.” You paused, looking down at how you’d spent the last hour. “Do you wanna go test these outside later?”

Sam looked up eagerly and you could just tell he was intending on getting competitive. “Hell yeah.”

“I’m going for a run in some time.” You got up to stretch your limbs, shrug off the fatigue that was setting in. Along the way you left the swan and one of the paper planes on top of the mini fridge alongside the car keys. It was cute. “We could do it then?”

“Sure,” he affirmed. “What time?”

“At around 6-” your eyes landed on the clock on the wall before widening, “-shit, shit, shit, I didn't realise it was five thirty. We have a call with Ransone.”

“Phone’s on the couch,” he mentioned to the living room, sitting up straight. “Why are you freaking out? We still got a few minutes to go.”

You pushed yourself away from the table, forcing yourself to shakie off the drowsiness that had begun to set in.

“You wouldn’t get it,” you mumbled, “He gets pissy if I don’t do things his way.”

You grabbed the phone, punching in the buttons and having it at the ready.

You noticed Sam focused on you with knitted eyebrows but not voicing whatever he had on his mind.

“Ready?” you questioned, but more as a formality. You had to do it regardless.

He simply nodded, looking on as you let the phone ring. If he had noticed your antsiness towards the call, he didn’t bring it up.

Ransone picked up on the last ring, not skipping a beat in answering, “Y/N.”

“Hey Ransone.” You switched the call to speakerphone.

“Are you alone?”

You glanced at Sam. He shook his head, arms crossed over his chest, edging you to continue with the arrangement you had planned the day prior.

Ransone trusted you more. He was more likely to communicate openly if Sam wasn’t around.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Where’s the other one?”

Sam silently scoffed.

“He’s taking a nap.”

“Ah,” Ransone’s tone was condescending. “How have things been?”

“It’s fine.” You press your lips into a straight line, not elucidating. “What’s the update out there?”

“Everything is a mess. We’re trying to figure out who attacked you but since there wasn’t anything left behind or any kind of trace, it’s proving to be... inconvenient.”

“Is it safe to travel?”

“What, with your face on national television?” he laughed. “Nah, I’d say it’s a little too early to be thinkin’ of a road trip. Just stay where you are, I’ll tell you when you can come out.”

Your fingers were thrumming at the table rhythmically, peeking at Sam every now and then for anything he found suspicious or wanted you to ask about.

“Listen, we’ve paid off every big guy to keep this under wraps as much as possible but Pierce was an important person. All the higher ups want this to be solved as quickly as possible. They don’t care about sacrificing a player here or there.”

Pinning the blame on you was easy enough. The faster you were put away, the faster they could stage an “accident” in prison so that none of their secrets were exposed. Wasn’t like they hadn’t done it before.

“Others in the business aren’t likin’ us accusing them of attacking one of our own. Our best bet right now is Serpentine but we haven’t gotten anything to prove it.”

You doubted they ever would. Even if they did do it, Serpentine was notorious for being cunning and stealthy in their operations. They made sure there would be no tracks leading back to them.

“So, we’re at a dead-end,” you verified. There was no telling when this would end, your exit looking further and further away. “We’re fucked.”

“No. We’ll just- Y/N, listen to me,” Ransone called out, drawing your attention back to the call.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve always protected you,” his voice was noticeably softer. “Don’t you trust me?”

You felt the temperature in the room drop.

“You said there would be no one there!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ransone scoffed. “I never said that.”

“I walk in there and there’s four people, completely armed.” Forcing yourself to recall it was making your head spin. Maybe you could ask the nurse for a painkiller. “It was supposed to be empty.”

“I think the blood loss is making you delirious,” he chided, looking at the bag of drips hanging above your bed. “It wasn’t even that bad-”

“You’re lying.” The words slipped out before you had the chance to think it over.

“Excuse me?” he tilted his head, tone suddenly sifting to that of warning.

You knew he was. You had agreed to this mission because it was supposed to be easy. It was a break.

“Ivan was there when you briefed me.” You lifted your good arm to point at him shakily. “He knows you’re lying.”

“Does he now?” Ransone quirked an eyebrow, studying his aid who stood in the corner of the dingy hospital room.

A beat of silence passed where Ransone stared at Ivan, waiting for a reply of confirmation.

Ivan only lifted his shoulders in unawareness. “I don’t remember you sayin’ that.”

Your mouth fell agape but you quickly rushed to shut it. Fucking liars. You shouldn’t have expected anything better.

“Told you.” Ransone shrugged. “You’re a smart one, Y/N, so I’m going to let that slide this time. But next time you accuse me of something I didn’t say…”

He trailed off, resting a hand on your broken shoulder. You flinched, jaw clenched so tightly you thought your teeth might break. You tried to imagine yourself somewhere else, desperate to reduce the quivering of your body when he squeezed it lightly.

“You know I’ve always tried to protect you.” He put a finger under your chin, tilting your head to meet his eye. “Don’t you trust me?”

A beat passed before you responded.

“I do,” you said through gritted teeth, pulling your face away from him.

“I’ll ask them to up your dosage.” Ransone took a step away from you, dropping his hand. “I’m going to need my best player on the field as soon as possible.”

You didn’t acknowledge his statement. Every part of your body felt like it was going to combust.

Did he really say that no one was going to be there or was it just the injuries playing with you?

“Get well soon,” he offered, one step out the door. “Buttercup.”

“You trust me, don’t you Y/N?” he repeated when you didn’t respond.

“Yes.” You swallowed, gaze falling to the floor.

“And I trust you. You wouldn’t do anything to break that, would you?”

Sam raised his one hand questioningly as if to ask what the hell he was talking about. An intimidation tactic. He had been using it for several years to reinforce your loyalty.

“I wouldn’t.”

There were things you weren’t telling him, of course. Details about that day or where you and Sam were hiding right off the top of your head. More if you thought about it deeply.

“Good,” came his response. “So if there’s anything you need, let me know. I’m always a call away.”

“Thank you.”

“Talk to you soon.” He ended the call there.

You stood there blankly for a while before dropping the phone to the ground and crushing it. Usually you wouldn’t have to do that; removing the battery would be enough. This time you wanted to.

Your chest rose and fell heavily. You loathed him. Yet, you couldn’t fucking leave.

“Hey.” Your eyes snapped back to Sam. “We still going on that run?”

The wind felt good.

Your muscles were burning and you could feel the constriction of your lungs but you liked it. The endorphins were working their charm.

Sam was right beside you, not questioning why there was so much aggression in your movement. You had lost track of how long you had been running. You couldn’t bring yourself to focus on that.

The path was paved with fallen branches and roots sticking out, forcing you to hop over some of them to avoid falling. It only annoyed you further.

You wanted to punch something. Or someone. The tension was rolling off your back in waves, and if someone saw you the’d probably believe you were going to commit an act of violence.

It was a while before you felt your steps begin to falter, the need for a proper breath taking precedence over the want to run more.

“Timeout?” you asked Sam breathlessly, slowing your pace to a jog.

“Sure about that, Usain Bolt?” he huffed, slowing his pace to match yours.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismissed it. “T’was fun.”

Now that you had slowed down, it forced you to come to terms with how much energy you had just burnt out.

“You wanna talk about what’s on your mind or ignore it?”

“Rather not talk about it for now.” The more you thought about him, the angrier you got. And as of late, you had realised that your method of dealing with that anger wasn’t the best.

The air was getting colder. It was getting harder to see what was in front of you, relying on the few rays of sunlight that shone through the treetops. You took a roundabout at your self declared checkpoint, changing course back to the house.

Sam followed wordlessly, but his presence was strangely comforting. Warm.

“Thank you.”

“For...” he trailed off, prodding you on.

“I don’t know. This.” You gestured to the path ahead of you. “I didn’t think you’d agree to it.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” His eyebrows knit together in puzzlement.

You didn’t have an answer to that. Probably because you weren’t used to people just doing nice things for no apparent reason.

“How are you so calm all the time? I’ve never seen him get under your skin,” you asked quietly. “How do you do it?”

He didn’t answer straight away. He mulled over it as he dodged broken sticks and upended roots on the ground. You would be fine if he didn’t answer either; as long as he knew that you appreciated it.

“I just realised that everything he put into me was destructive. Actively worked on unlearning it,” he replied after a while. “It took me years to even begin.”

You expected to hear that but it didn’t make it easier.

“I don’t even know how to start,” you mumbled. It was so tiring, even thinking of where and how it began. It was all you knew. All you were taught.

“If I could add something?”

You looked at him questioningly.

“You had a different relationship with him than all of us, Y/N. A deeper one. It’s not easy to forget that,” he pointed out. “But… you’re not him. That takes strength.”

These weren’t new revelations. It was things you had told yourself earlier to rationalise all your actions. You knew it on a surface level but it was difficult to convince yourself sincerely.

You didn’t say anything, just continued jogging with an eye on the ground.

It felt better to hear it from someone else. A starting point to maybe get to where he was, too.

“I just can’t believe anyone took him seriously enough for him to get this far,” Sam added, a tick of annoyance in his voice. “I don’t condone bullying but someone should have just punched him in the face as a child.”

It wasn’t even the funniest thing you had heard him say but for some reason it elicited a snort from you, soon giving way to a laugh.

His face snapped to yours at the sound of your laughter, a small smile growing on his face.

His brief moment of distraction was all it took for him to not notice the tree root sticking out in front of him. His ankle got caught in the wood, sending him stumbling to the ground face forward.

“Oh shit,” you cursed, halting in your place immediately, dropping to your knees to where he was.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groaned, turning onto his back. “I think I broke my face.”

“That may be a bit excessive but your nose is definitely bleeding,” you knew this was serious but you were finding it difficult to control your laughter once you realised it wasn’t a life threatening injury.

“Just leave me here to die.” He covered his eyes with his elbow, refusing to look at you.

“C’mon, Wilson. Let’s get you fixed up.” You stood up, offering your hand. He grabbed onto it, hoisting himself up. “Can you stand up straight? Do you think you have a concussion?”

“World class assassin,” he grumbled, shaking his head to imply he was fine other than a possible broken nose.

“Promise I won’t tell. Your reputation is safe,” you said it humorously but with conviction, hoping to make it less embarrassing for him. Not that you’d let him forget it any time soon.

It took longer to walk back considering how far you had ventured out, along with the fact that you had to guide him as he held his nose in the air to try and control the bleeding.

You pushed open the door to the house, holding it open as he walked in. Sam made his way to the dining room after you told him you’d get the first aid kit for the second time during your stay there.

By the time you returned from the bathroom, grabbing an old t-shirt along the way, he had a single ice cube pressed to the bridge of his nose.

“That’s not going to be enough.” You dropped the kit onto the table, opening the mini fridge. You emptied the ice cubes from the tray onto the t-shirt, twisting it into a small ice pack.

“These are my battle scars.” You could tell that he was trying not to use his nose. He sounded ridiculous.

“Whatever makes you feel better, Sam,” you chortled. His mouth eased into a half smile and you didn’t get why until you realised it was the first time you had called him by his name. You didn’t acknowledge it, surprised by how easily it slipped out from your mouth when you weren’t actively stopping it.

You gave him a bit of cotton to wipe off the blood that had dried on his face.

“Look up,” you instructed, standing over him so you could assess the damage. He complied, letting you cradle his jaw softly, tilting his head to see if there were any signs of a fracture or anything worse.

It was a bad fall, but nothing he hadn’t been through before in terms of severeness. It wasn’t going to leave a mark.

“Definitely going to bruise but it’s not broken,” you concluded, going over it once more to make sure.

“Thanks, doc,” his voice came softly from below you. Only then did you realise how close you were standing to him. You could feel his breath on your wrist that was still caressing his face.

It felt like eternity, but he didn’t make an effort to move or shove you away. Your eyes flitted down to his lips for a second. If you just leaned dow-

“Right,” you cleared your throat, taking a step back. “Just hold this to your face for a while to reduce any swelling.”

You handed him the makeshift ice pack, feeling the heat creep up your neck.

“Your turn to use the bed tonight, right?” His voice was significantly lower than what it had been a few minutes ago, something you weren’t acclimated to hearing. It only made your face feel hotter.

“Yeah.” You avoided meeting his eyes, using the time to close the first aid kid. “Unless you want it.”

“No, go ahead.”

It was too early to retire for the evening but suddenly you weren’t all that hungry anymore. Apparently neither was he.

“See you tomorrow, then?” you inquired, turning away before he could see you cringe.

“See you tomorrow,” he confirmed, “Good night.”

You just gave him a short wave over your shoulder and physically restrained from walking to the room, shutting the door and never looking at him again. You hoped he didn’t notice or at least never bring it up if he did.

You couldn’t do this. Not again.

Not when you knew the consequences.

Next part

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