#fifth interaction: him letting me know that he's leaving and asking me out before remembering I already said no | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jiminniethemarshmallow · 1 year

Text

I Remember (M)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, eventual smut, a sprinkle of angst

Word count: 16k (this is probably going to end up being novel length lol)

Warnings: Memory loss, mentions of death and grief, reader is depressed in the beginning :(

(A/N): Been working on this since 2020 and now I’ve written enough that I can start posting parts! This is part 1 and I think it’ll have 3 or 4 parts depending on how long they are so please leave feedback and your ideas might be featured in coming parts!

“Remember how it was with you? Remember how you pulled me through?

I remember.” -Deadmau5

TAG: @13-manggaetteok (please let me know if anyone else would like to be added to the tag list)

Part 2

Sighing, you take another sip from your wine glass. Your date continues to speak as you sit in the dimly lit restaurant, your plates as empty as your mind as you listen to him with faux interest. He isn’t droning on about some self-absorbed, unprompted story like so many other guys you have dated, you actually asked him to tell you this one, and you are sure it would be completely riveting if you could focus on any of the words he’s saying. This is your fifth date with him and he checks all of your boxes: he’s handsome, funny, highly intelligent (including emotional intelligence), and he’s a good listener. On top of that, he seems to be really attracted to you— something he told you after the first date, but you ignored him because you were still virtual strangers at that point. But he’s stayed consistent these past few weeks and he is one of the best guys you’ve ever met. Which is why you hate your heart for not liking him the way you should.

You’re staring at his hands as they move around during his story, forcing out a chuckle here and there whenever he laughs, and it’s amazing to you how he hasn’t realized by now how one-sided this interaction has become. Your focus only snaps back when he says your name at some point, and it is then that you look him in the face for the first time in several minutes. Though, he still hasn’t noticed. You can’t help the sting in your heart when you think of the person who always noticed everything about you, sometimes even before you realized them yourself. His face creeps to the forefront of your mind and you immediately shove it away, blinking quickly and re-centering yourself in your seat.

“Are you okay?” Your date asks finally, concern stitched into his eyebrows when you meet his eyes.

You offer him a tired smile and answer blandly. “Today’s just been a bad day.” When he asks you to elaborate, there’s nothing much you can really say. Everyday has been a bad day for the past few years. You don’t remember what it feels like to have a good day. So you simply shrug, not even attempting to come up with an excuse. Thankfully, he doesn’t question you further, suggesting that you call it a night and driving you home after picking up the bill.

You’re glad he doesn’t pressure you for more than the dry hug and kiss on the cheek you give him once he drops you off at your door. You told him you wanted to take things slow when he first took interest in you, and so far he’s been true to his word. He really is a great guy.

Tonight was going to be like any other night, you could feel it. Your shoes kicked off at the door, dress thrown into the hamper on your way into the shower, your sheets still a mess on your bed from this morning when you slowly climb back into them. What the hell were you even doing? Staring up at your ceiling, you feel your face droop. It’s been so long, you should really try to move on. Well, you were trying, but you needed to try harder. Everything shouldn’t be moving this slowly, the world should not have stopped for one man; but your world has stopped spinning it feels, and no matter how hard you try to push ahead you just can’t get it back on its axis.

Sleep doesn’t find you tonight. You know from experience that your vibrator is a kind friend that helps you sleep on lonely nights, but you’re lonely by choice and you feel that you don’t deserve to find pleasure tonight. Your date would have been more than happy to help you, but you chose to end your night in solitude, so you decide that you should suffer. The darkness drags on as you watch your walls, but even worse than the darkness is the ever brightening pale light that starts to color your room all too soon.

——

Blazing white shines through your window and angles right into your already open eyes, your alarm clock serving no purpose whatsoever except to spike your heart rate and start your morning off with a headache. One cup of coffee, two sugars and lots of creamer is adequate enough to serve as your breakfast. And maybe an apple. You brush the flavors out of your mouth, wash the sleep from your face, and head to your closet to pick out your plain work attire, slipping on whatever was most comfortable to avoid any unnecessary irritation later in the day.

When it comes time for accessories, you fumble with the hook on your thin necklace, find the first pair of matching earrings and put them on, and slip on a sleek watch. Your eyes roll over your organized jewelry box until they land on the velvet box that sits neatly in its corner, untouched and getting dusty. You reach out your hand to grab it, but it stops on its own, your fingers twitching slightly before they ball into a fist and your arm retracts. Finishing your look with a simple coat of lipstick, you don’t bother with any other makeup and hurry out of the door even though you are 15 minutes ahead of schedule.

Work is uneventful as always, but the promise of your plans later in the day keep you going. Your friends had scheduled an evening at the spa together to unwind and catch up with each other. You much prefer this to the original plan of shopping in the strip mall at all of the stores you have been to a million times already. A spa day would be great for you physically, and catching up with your girls would do wonders for your mental health, you’ve felt awfully lonesome in the past few weeks and you needed people to talk to other than your narcissistic coworkers.

You think this as you drive through a town center straight after work, humming to your favorite songs and enjoying the weather with the windows down. Today the weather is perfect, sparse clouds and sunny skies make for warm temperatures and a nice breeze that comforts your soul. It’s a somewhat busy day, people walking in and out of stores and restaurants or sitting on benches, just enjoying life. You don’t often people watch, but out of curiosity you look into the crowd as you drive past, screeching to a sudden halt as your foot slams on the brakes. The horrendous noise draws the attention of several people, and the person behind you honks and curses as he swerves around your vehicle, yet you don’t hear any of it. You freeze at the familiar face you see standing on the sidewalk, your heart all but stopping in hope, fear, and worry.

Maybe you were hallucinating.

Maybe this was all some kind of messed up daydream you’re having because you didn’t get enough sleep last night and you fell asleep with your eyes open at the wheel.

Yeah, that has to be it. However, you still speed to reach the entrance of the parking lot and hop out of your car without even locking the doors. The jog over to that place is short and you pray that he’s still there when you get there. If he was even real in the first place. Those thoughts don’t last long, though, because once you turn the corner you spot him; that face that has been burned into your every thought— your every breath— for three whole years now. He looks confused, craning his neck backwards to see the names plastered on each store front, and you could almost think he’s lost.

Before you could stop yourself, your lips are moving, your voice coming out as a choked out gasp once your brain allows you to accept the reality. “Jimin!” That’s him. That is unmistakably him.

He turns to you and you lock eyes, jump starting your feet into action as you stride over to him. His eyes widen at your approach in what you assume to be recognition, and your eyes well up with tears. Once you are in front of him, you look at him up close, the crease in your forehead growing with the flood of emotions rushing through you. He continues to stare at you wide eyed, almost afraid, and you want to laugh and cry at the same time because you just can’t believe this is real.

“Jimin?” Reverently, you lift your hand to touch his cheek, the skin there immediately flushing with color, and once you confirm that this is not a visual hallucination, you crumble. Something in the back of your mind tells you not to hug him, but you loop your arms around him regardless and let the tears flow, his scent overtaking you. He can feel you shaking as he returns the hug, and you don’t notice how loose and hesitant his arms feel until you pull away to look at him again. His face does not mirror yours, however, and you frown.

“I-“ He swallows, a guilt written on his face that you cannot yet decipher. “I’m sorry, but who are you? Am I supposed to know you?”

The words come out slowly, but they shatter you all the same. At first, you’re baffled, wiping your eyes to get another clear view of him as you look him up and down meticulously. Aside from his usually dark hair, which is now dyed a dirty blonde, everything about him is exactly the same as you remember. It is impossible for you to have messed this one up. Maybe you were going crazy. The thought of him being a doppelgänger crosses your mind, but you dismiss that idea immediately because there is no way someone could coincidentally mimic Jimin this perfectly, even down to the moles on his neck.

“What- what do you mean?” You whisper, and for the first time, his face shares the same emotion as yours: mortification. You, because you’re now convinced that you have the wrong person despite every one of your senses telling you that he is exactly who you think he is. Him, because he’s drawing a blank on everything about you and it is clear to him that he 100% does not know who you are, even though it is apparent that he should know you and that you were most likely very close at one point. It’s silent for only a second.

“I don’t... know you.” This time he sounds unsure, cringing at himself as he hears just how bad that sounds. It’s almost as if he can see your heart breaking in your chest. “I, um, you’ll have to excuse me, I got into an accident and have severe amnesia. If it makes you feel any better, you probably aren’t the only person I forgot.” The smile he offers you is apologetic and you don’t have the strength to be angry. You’re just confused.

“No, it’s- it’s okay.” You stutter, shutting your eyes to try to process his words. He’s forgotten about you. You wonder what else he’s forgotten about.

“I just got here and I’m supposed to meet with my family, but I can’t find the building. Everything looks different from what I remember. Will you help me?” Jimin continues on as if your entire awkward exchange didn’t happen, as if he’s a tourist visiting a new city for the first time and is asking for directions. As if he hasn’t lived here his whole life. He shows you the name of the meeting place on his phone and you feel knives sink into your heart. It’s his favorite place in your town, a bar and grille with a lovely view of the outside scenery, and you haven’t been there in a few years but you can still picture it vividly. He took you there for your first date and it quickly became Your Spot. You spent every night there for more than a week when Jimin first disappeared, sitting and drinking, dazed and crying, spending hours there until it closed and they were forced to kick you out.

“Yeah,” You hear yourself say. “I’ll walk you there, it’s not far.” The two of you stand there for a second more, just looking at each other, until you realize that you are the one who is supposed to lead. He follows in silence, looking around at the buildings with curiosity and pouting his lips, which you guess is because he doesn’t recall any of this. But you remember. You remember how you would spend hours kissing those same lips and how beautiful they look whenever they’re stretched into a smile.

Stopping at the restaurant, you turn toward him again, nerves slicking your fingertips at the thought of him leaving you again. For a second you contemplate going in with him, seeing his family again and experiencing the reunion to the fullest because they, too, considered you as family. But you decide against it, giving him directions to his favorite table in case he gets lost inside. You expect him to thank you and walk away, but he just stands there blushing at you.

“I’m sorry.” He sighs, biting his lip and pushing his hair back like he always used to do when he was frustrated. It’s nice to see that he still has the same habits. “I know this is probably really hard for you. I haven’t met with anyone else here, so I’m not sure how to respond to people from my past yet, but I appreciate this.”

“It’s no problem, really.” You can’t meet his eyes anymore, dropping them down to the pavement below you. You don’t know what else to say to him.

“We should meet up sometime to talk. I’m sure you have a lot of questions and-“ He’s back to biting his lip, the color on his cheeks darkening. “And I would really like to get to know you again, if you’ll let me.” This brings your gaze back to his face to see how red he’s gotten, one of his hands coming up to scratch at the back of his neck. You never thought you’d see Jimin get shy in front of you again, but here he is, just as modest as the first time you met. Well, for him this is the first time. It’s cute.

“Yeah, that would be really nice.” You smile. His eyes widen just slightly when your face brightens, and he hides his reaction by clumsily handing you his phone to enter your name and number. He forgot to unlock it for you and realizes this after it’s already out of his hands, but you enter his passcode without missing a beat, surprised when you find that it is the same as it was 3 years ago. It’s a new phone and none of his contacts are there, but he is still the same person he was before, which is a relief. “My name is (Y/n), by the way.” You say as you hand him back his device.

He reads your name on the screen then repeats it out loud, the sound of your name coming from his mouth doing something to your heart and body that you never thought you’d feel again. He can most likely see the shiver that runs through you, but he ignores it, sticking out his hand for you to shake instead.

“It was nice to meet you... again, (Yn).” You laugh lightheartedly and take his hand, the contact far too brief for your liking, but you don’t want to encroach upon his personal boundaries because he doesn’t know you anymore. Watching him walk in, you stand at the door and observe the explosion of emotions that cross his family’s face when they spot him, all of them jumping up to give him a giant group hug, which he accepts easily. It appears that he remembers all of them and you’re suddenly very glad that you didn’t intrude, letting them have their moments with him.

Once you’re back in your car, you pause to think about what just happened. Was that real? Jimin is back home, alive, but he has amnesia and doesn’t remember you at all. Amnesia. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think this was all some sort of cringy cliche written at 3am by some sleep deprived lunatic. But that’s a rollercoaster of emotions that you do not have the energy to work through at the moment, so you focus on being clearheaded enough to drive back to your home, playing the music a little louder than normal to drown out the swarming thoughts.

——

Steam rises from the heated rocks as you pour more water onto them. The room is hot and foggy, humid in a way that labors your lungs and frees your pores. You sit alongside your friends Mina and Joy in the sauna after your massages, your body successfully relaxed, but your mind is anything but. It’s been a few hours since your encounter at the town center, and the soothing atmosphere of this spa has given you enough time to let everything sink in. So as your friends talk amongst themselves cheerfully, you sit in silence and try to figure out exactly how you should be feeling right now.

“And what’s with (Y/n)?” Joy pouts, catching your attention as she looks over her nose at you.

“Yeah, you’ve been quiet this entire time, what’s on your mind?” Mina prompts, spreading her legs as she slumps against the wooden walls, her towel thankfully long enough to cover her. She’s always so brazen, never afraid to say what she thinks or drop her etiquette as soon as she gets comfortable. You didn’t know you needed a friend like that until you met her, and you’ve been pretty much attached at the hip ever since. She is also very perceptive when it comes to you, where others tend to find you hard to read.

You take a deep breath and shift your eyes back and forth between their faces, unsure if they would think you were crazy or not for what you were about to say. Pondering how you would phrase this, you take a moment to sort your thoughts before throwing caution to the wind and letting them into your head.

“I saw Jimin today...” Silence. “This is not a ‘I’m having a psychotic break and now I see ghosts’ thing— I actually saw him and spoke to him today. And I touched him and he seemed pretty damn real.” More silence.

Mina looks pale and is in absolute shock, her mouth parted open and her eyes wide as saucers. You fully expected this reaction. Both of them had been there for you when you fell into a depression 3 years ago after Jimin disappeared. They saw all of the stages of your grief, helped to take care of you when you stopped taking care of yourself, and they contributed to most of your recovery in the aftermath. So to hear such startling news from you is probably something they would have never expected, especially since you said it so casually. Mina is rightfully speechless. Joy, on the other hand, looks as though she had just been reminded of something and taps her fingers on her seat excitedly as if she were trying to remember more details in order to recite it to you.

“Oh my gosh, I forgot to tell you!” She gasps, nearly jumping from her seat. “I heard a rumor from Taehyung late last night that Jimin was alive and well and had contacted his family. I guess he came back to visit them.”

“He came to visit? So he’s been alive this whole time and hasn’t reached out to anyone, but all of a sudden he wants to come to visit?” After fully accepting the situation, Mina appears to be angry, a stance you would have also taken if it had not been for your recent encounter. But you can only feel irritation as something else becomes apparent.

“Wait, Taehyung told you this last night and he didn’t think to tell me?” Kim Taehyung, Park Jimin’s best friend, who promised to keep in touch after his friend disappeared, then stopped returning your calls and messages about 6 months ago. But despite that, he should have at least thought to tell you such important information as soon as he found it out— and what’s more is that you still haven’t heard from him and it’s been almost 24 hours since Joy got the message. You understand if Jimin’s family didn’t think to tell you immediately, there must’ve been a million other things on their minds, but if Taehyung had the time to tell Joy, he certainly could have sent a message to you too.

“Actually, he announced it in a small group text he sent last night, but knowing you, you probably ignored it.” Joy explains, nervous for your reaction. It’s true, you don’t often look at messages and you’ve basically logged off from other forms of social media, so it’s pretty difficult to get in contact with you unless it’s a direct message. You’ve muted all of your chats, so it’s likely that you refused to look at the messages altogether.

“Yeah…” It’s silent for a few seconds as they watch you, but when it seems that you won’t say much else, Mina continues.

“So, what happened when you saw Jimin today? What did he say?”

“He didn’t know who I was, said he had amnesia from an accident. He asked me-“ You let out a half chuckle, thinking about how ridiculous and unfortunate the circumstances were. “He asked me how to get to Full Moon.”

“Full Moon? His favorite place in probably the entire world?” Joy gapes in disbelief.

“If he doesn’t know how to get there, then his amnesia must be really serious. It’s no wonder he didn’t know who you were.” Shaking her head, Mina makes a sound of sympathy that does nothing to console you. “How did you feel about it?”

“How else am I supposed to feel about it? I was hurt that he couldn’t even recognize my face. He looked me right in the eye and I could tell that there was nothing, not an ounce of familiarity when he saw me.” Your voice cracks, emotion choking up in your throat.

“But?”

“But I was so, so relieved. Like, I don’t know, a weight had been lifted from my chest or something. I can’t even begin to describe how it felt to see him— to know that he was okay— when I had resigned myself to the thought that I would never see him again.” Tears leak onto your cheeks as you finally allow yourself to feel the emotions you had been holding in since that moment, the boldest and deepest layer of yourself finally surfacing. You don’t know if they can see your tears through the rest of the moisture that drips down your face due to the heat, but they each lean forward and offer a comforting pat on the knee anyway.

“So, are you going to see him again? I’m sure you didn’t just let him walk away without arranging something.” Joy asks hopefully.

“I gave him my number and he said he wanted to meet up. I think… I think he likes me.” You giggle incredulously while wiping your face, earning a scoff from Mina.

“He better like you. True feelings don’t just disappear when you lose your memory, if he really loved you before then he’ll be back in your arms in no time.”

“She’s right.” Joy smiles. “The heart wants what the heart wants. And it doesn’t forget.” These words make your own heart race, recalling that suffocating feeling you ignored when you first saw him, the one that came with the overwhelming recognition of his ethereal beauty that your memory could not entirely replicate in his absence. It’s as if no time had passed at all for your heart, and all of those feelings came flooding back in almost instantly. All you can do is conceal a smile from them, bashfully shifting your eyes to the floor. “Which brings me to my next question; are you going to tell him about your relationship?”

This is something you’ve also been thinking about for the past couple of hours, yet you’re still in a stalemate with yourself. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Well, to me it’s obvious: of course you have to tell him. He has to know who you are to him— or who you were to him before this— if you’re going to make any progress at all. He’ll probably ask you about it anyway.” Mina presents this easily as if there was no real issue here. Objectively, it seems like telling him would be the next and only step forward if you were to rebuild anything with him or jog his memory. But you see several problems with this, which you try to explain.

“But telling him won’t be as easy as that. Jimin doesn’t remember anything about me, today was technically the first time we met, at least to him. He might feel uncomfortable or pressured when he hears that we were a couple since I’m literally a stranger now. Plus, I have all my memories of him, so it may be awkward for him to get to know me again when he realizes just how close we were. No, knowing him, he’ll probably be extremely embarrassed because I know everything about him and now it’s a one sided relationship because he knows nothing about me. He gets upset with himself when he sees an old friend after a long time and can’t remember their name after they called his, imagine how he’ll be when he learns about me.”

“Okay, so what’s your game plan? You have to meet with him eventually, you can’t keep it a secret forever.” Frowning, Mina tries not to say anything too crude because your voice is turning whiny and tears line your eyes again.

“That is, assuming no one tells him before then.” Joy adds.

“I,” It’s a tough situation that you think hard about, the steam clearing enough that you can clearly see how closely they inspect you, awaiting your answer. “I guess I’ll have to limit the information I give him. I’ll tell him we were dating, but I won’t tell him how long I’ve known him or many more details unless he asks.” That sounds somewhat doable. Though, you were never good at hiding things from him.

“You know he will.” Mina comments, knowing just how curious Jimin could be.

“Then, I’ll have the censor and deflect. It’s too soon for him to know.”

——

Hazy white shines through your window and bounces off the edges of your room, your alarm clock waking you with a start from your confusing dream, heart racing from the suddenness. One cup of coffee, two sugars and lots of cream sits on your counter as you munch on a lightly toasted waffle and a banana. You brush the flavors out of your mouth, rinse the sleep from your face, and head to your closet to pick out a sundress, slipping it on and checking yourself out in the mirror to make sure it wasn’t too dressy.

Eye makeup and lipstick complete, you move on to accessories. You reach for a pair of nice stud earrings, clasp a dangling necklace around your neck, and slip on a matching bracelet. Your eyes scan your organized jewelry box until they land on that familiar velvet box, its appearance seeming slightly more prominent among the other shimmering jewelry. It’s like Pandora’s box, calling for you to open it, but you know that if you do you’ll be flooded with memories and thoughts powerful enough to topple over your already unstable world. You walk away before you are tempted any further.

Joy was right, you have several messages from the group chat Taehyung created, and upon opening the messages, you see that he had indeed notified you of Jimin’s return. Aside from Joy, the other person in the group was Jungkook, who had been friends with Jimin since they were children and therefore has known him the longest. Most of the messages are from him, asking questions of his whereabouts and badgering Taehyung about the source of this information. Jungkook seemed pretty skeptical about the whole thing, rightfully so, and he was almost in denial— according to his frantic questioning. It’s true that Taehyung was Jimin’s current best friend, but Jungkook was his best friend first. And even after Jimin became impossibly close with Taehyung in his high school years, Jimin still remained shy Jungkook’s best and most reliable friend. In fact, they were practically like brothers. So his disappearance had affected the young man greatly. You’d reached out to Jungkook a few times and he was kinder to you than Taehyung had been, but you soon found that your presence did little to help either of you, so you both agreed that it would be okay to stop contacting each other. You do still check in with him occasionally, but it’s been pretty awkward as of late.

Recent messages in the chat reveal that both he and Taehyung met with Jimin this morning. Taehyung complains that Jimin hardly remembers anything, warning you to be prepared if you were going to meet with him, even though he probably isn’t sure you’ll look at the messages at all. Joy answers by informing him that you had run into Jimin 4 days ago, so you already know about his amnesia, but both of the men warn you anyway. You consider responding, but decide against it.

Instead, you open the unread messages from your love interest, Jaebeom, asking you to a sixth date sometime next week. He originally asked if you could meet today, but you told him that you already had plans, so he generously allowed you to pick a day anytime next week. When you saw him just 5 days ago, you told him that you’d love for him to take you out again soon, especially since you felt bad for ending your date early, but now you’re beginning to regret saying that. Of course, he hadn’t done anything wrong, but seeing Jimin changed things for you and you aren’t sure you could be with another man after finding out that your past lover had returned. You and Jimin never broke up, so was this technically cheating? Even though he doesn’t remember you? These are tough thoughts to grapple and you find yourself stuck between moving on and trying to rekindle a past flame, despite the risk that his flame no longer exists for you.

You ignore the messages for now, convinced that you’ll be able to come to a decision about your response to him after you see Jimin again. Hoping that speaking to him will sway you in a clear direction. You’ve been texting him all week, but your conversations haven’t been very deep so far. He still has no idea who you are to him, but at least now he knows your general information. You’ll save the rest for when you see him in person.

The restaurant is fairly empty this time of day, allowing you to spot Jimin as soon as you walk through the doors. He sits casually at your usual booth in his usual spot, facing the front doors and staring out of the window at the outside scenery. Just seeing him there brings you back to your first date, like you’ve just hopped in a time machine and are now reliving that unforgettable day. But despite the nostalgia you feel, you remind yourself that this is vastly different from your first date, and a new wave of nerves hits you. Your steps are slow as they walk through the restaurant, dragging out the seconds as your mind races. He hasn’t spotted you yet, it isn’t too late to turn around and walk back out to regroup.

Will you be able to withhold information from him like you planned? Does keeping that information from him— information about himself that he is entitled to know— make you a bad person? Will you even be able to hold your tongue once you start talking to him? You aren’t sure you’ll be able to tell your lies of omission straight to his face once he asks in his soft voice and looks at you with those beautiful, sincere eyes-

Oh shit, he’s looking at you!

You didn’t even realize you were this close to the table already, and in three more steps, you find yourself sliding into the booth across from him with a smile more timid than his. He stares at you unabashedly, looking you over thoroughly, emboldened by the assumption that you are already quite acquainted so this shouldn’t be awkward. But it is. For you, at least. You want to hide your face from his gaze, yet you can’t tear your eyes from him either. It’s like your brain didn’t believe your eyes the first time they saw him the other day, and now that he is right in front of you, it can take the time to fully process what is happening. Jimin is sitting across from you in his favorite booth, dressed handsomely and eyeing you with that adorable pink tint on his cheeks.

“Hi, (Y/n)!”

“Hi.”

“I’m glad you could make it!” Jimin greets, never looking away from your face. You are the one who breaks eye contact first, thinking quickly of something to say to him.

“Yeah, sorry I‘m a little late.” You answer sheepishly, not mentioning how you came twenty minutes early but sat in the car giving yourself a pep talk and working up the nerve to go inside for twenty-five. The last time you sat in this spot you got lost staring straight ahead of you for hours, trying to imagine how he would look if he were there with you. And now you have exactly what you wished for, his empty seat filled so you no longer have to stare at a wall. It’s hard to grasp completely. This whole thing feels surreal and you’re waiting for the moment that you wake up from this dream and go back to the miserable life you had before today. “But I’m glad you could make it, too. I imagine you’ve been pretty busy these past few days?”

“Not really, no.” He breathes a laugh, finally looking away from you. “I spent most of my time catching up with my family at home. I had to move back in with my parents since I don’t have anywhere else to stay.” A lump forms in your throat when you think of the cold side of your bed that he used to warm. “I met with Taehyung and Jungkook this morning, though. It’s the first time I’ve been outside since I got back.”

“How did it go?” You know very little of their encounter and you’re curious about how much he remembers about them, if anything at all. Surely he doesn’t know them either, right? It’s terrible, but you almost hope that’s the case. You don’t want to be the only person he’s forgotten about.

“I think it went well! I remembered them,” Damn. “But I guess I forgot a lot of important things about them.” Oh?

“Like what?”

“Well, for starters, I don’t remember being that close to Taehyung.”

“What?!” You almost laugh, not expecting him to say something like that. Hearing him say that is almost as ridiculous as if he said he owned a 6-legged pet dragon. “Taehyung? Your best friend in the whole entire world?”

He laughs at this, eyes scrunching in that cute way that you adore so much. Seeing it again is enough to make you temporarily forget what you were complaining about. “It’s funny, he said the exact same thing.”

“Of course he did, that’s the title you gave him in high school. ‘Kim Taehyung, My Best Friend in the Whole Entire World™’.” That’s how Jimin had introduced you to him all those years ago and you thought it was the cutest thing ever. “What do you mean you didn’t know you were that close? What do you remember?” Jimin had previously told you that asking about what he remembers isn’t at all offensive and that he welcomes hearing stories of his past, so you don’t hold back.

“I remember being really shy in high school my first year, and he was one of the first people to talk to me. And I remember that he was my friend, but they told me that we were practically attached at the hip and that I was better friends with him than I was with Jungkook.” He seems perplexed at this, working it out in his head, and you feel like they didn’t explain this well enough to him.

“It’s true.” You nod.

“But, Jungkook is like my little brother, I’ve known him my whole life.”

“Yes, Jungkook is like family to you, but Taehyung is your soulmate. He helped you through some really tough times in high school and you guys bonded like glue after that. Plus, it’s been over 10 years, so you’ve only gotten closer over time.” You smile, thinking back to how fondly Jimin first spoke of Taehyung after you first met him. You’re simply repeating his own words back to him, but he hangs onto everything you say.

He sighs. “He seemed pretty hurt when he realized I didn’t remember any of that. I felt terrible. They said it’s been almost 14 years since the last thing I remember. I’m missing so many important memories, it’s like I lost most of my life.” The sag of his shoulders falls deeper, darkness casting over his soft features. You’re both 28 now, so if he’s forgotten 14 years then he literally has missed half of his life. You can’t even begin to comprehend what it would be like to have your memories of your entire teenage and young adult life up until this point vanish. It must be scary for him.

“Can you-“ You start gently, reading his expression. He looks up at you innocently. “Could you maybe tell me about how you lost your memory?” Afraid that your question might be too invasive too soon, you quickly reassure him. “You don’t have to if you aren’t comfortable, we could talk about it another day if you need time to-“

“No, it’s okay,” Now he’s the one reassuring you, and your cheeks flame at your awkwardness. You’ve never really been this nervous around him, this is new for you. “I’ll tell you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s not too upsetting for me or anything. Honestly, not remembering things is worse to think about than the accident.” He laughs as a coping mechanism, but you can sense the underlying pain in him. You want to take his hands, but you hold yourself back. “Three years ago, I was in a plane crash while traveling overseas for work. They think a bird or something flew into one of the engines, and we made a crash landing somewhere off course. Apparently, I was one of the few people still alive when they found us, and I was in pretty bad shape. The nearest hospital was almost 80 miles away from the crash site and I flatlined 2 times on the helicopter ride there— or so I’ve been told— and once we reached the hospital, I had to go in immediately for surgery. The trauma to my head was so bad that my brain started to swell, and the doctors think that’s what caused the memory lost. But, they got it under control and I went through 3 more surgeries before I was completely stable. Afterwards, I was in a coma for a year.”

You gasp, images flashing through your mind of him laying in a hospital bed in a foreign country, all alone. And while he was suffering through this, you were at home completely unaware of his suffering as you wallowed in your own. You remember the night before he left, that odd feeling in your gut when you asked him if he could skip this trip and stay home with you instead. He’d laughed at your cuteness, kissing you until your nerves were eased, reassuring you that the worst wouldn’t happen. And even when your fears had become a reality, you did nothing to look for him, never thinking of the “what if’s” that might have lead you to be reunited with him sooner. The way he simply rattles all of this information off so quickly only adds to your shock, he must’ve had to explain this many times already.

“Don’t give me that look, the coma wasn’t too bad. It went by in a flash.” He jokes to lighten the mood, but you can’t even force a fake smile to offer him. “Since everything was destroyed in the crash, they had no way of identifying me; plus, my face was horribly bruised and disfigured, so they couldn’t use photo recognition. I know you’re probably thinking that you wish you could have been there for me, but trust me, I saw the pictures and I did not look pretty.”

You want to tell him that you wouldn’t have cared what he looked like if it mean you got to see him alive, but your mouth won’t move. You wish you could tell him the guilt you feel, but you can’t. Because that would raise too many questions from him that you swore you wouldn’t answer just yet.

“Anyway, when I woke up, I couldn’t really remember much of anything. Aside from being generally disoriented, they were speaking a language I couldn’t understand, so I didn’t know the true extent of my injuries or how long I’d been out. By the time they finally got someone who could translate, I was hysterical, trying to get out of bed and yelling about going home to see someone who was waiting for me.” At this your heart leaps. Could he have been talking about you? Were you the first person he thought about after waking up? You hope so, but since you’ll never know for sure, you just imagine that you were. “I had my memories for about two days while I threw tantrums— this I remember clearly. Not my memories, obviously, but the fits I threw. I refused to rest and fought the nurses who tried to help me with what little strength I had. I think I was mostly angry that I couldn’t do anything on my own. Maybe my tantrums are what caused this... I don’t know.” He looks down at the table for a moment, regathering his thoughts. “After those two days, I settled down considerably and forgot most of my identity. It took another week before I could remember myself again, and that’s when the doctors did tests. They diagnosed me with retrograde amnesia and determined that I lost about 10 years of my memory, but since some of my memories came back during that week, they were hopeful that everything would be back in a few months. But, after 2 years of mental training and physical therapy, I’m still stuck like this.”

It’s here that you lose your cool, tears falling from your burning eyes as you stare woefully at him. You wipe them away but they keep coming, so you apologize and turn your face from him to control the leakage. He questions this, tilting his head in confusion because of your reaction.

“It’s just,” You choke out, taking a shaky breath before meeting his eyes again. “I thought you were dead for 3 years. I went through all 5 stages of grief. We had a memorial service for you last year after everyone finally came to terms with your “death”, but no one knew what you had to go through all by yourself. You were alive the whole time and went through so many struggles, and we were over here forcing ourselves to move on with our lives.” The quiver of your lips after your tears slow gives away your guilt, and you are surprised by how easily he can still read you.

“Don’t feel guilty, there’s no way you could have known.” His hand lifts off the table slightly, as though to reach for yours, but it pauses and instead moves to grab a napkin to hand to you.

“How did you manage to get back home?” You finally ask once you wipe your eyes.

“I still remember where I live and some of my parents’ contact information, so as soon as I was well enough, I contacted them. They didn’t believe it was me at first, I guess because everyone thought I was dead, so I had to send them some pictures to fully convince them. It took them 2 days to respond, but when they did, they had booked me a flight home and sent my ticket. That’s how I ended up here.”

“And you remember all of them?” The answer is obviously yes, but you think it’s still an appropriate question.

“Yeah, mostly.” He grins. “My younger brother is an adult now and it felt a little weird talking to him, admittedly.” You chuckle with him. “Overall, my “death” seemed to bring everyone together, I was surprised to find everyone getting along so well.”

“Or, that could have been an act so they don’t stress you out on your first days back home.” You suggest playfully, sharing your first full laugh with him in what feels like forever. He seems comfortable talking to you, and you wonder why you were ever nervous in the first place.

“That’s also a possibility.” He smiles. “But enough about me, we came here so I can get to know more about you. And no more surface level stuff, I want to know who you really are.” Oh, that’s why.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” You try to keep your voice steady so your sudden uneasiness remains undetectable. The last thing you needed was for him to think you were hiding something.

“Firstly, what was our relationship?” He says the words cautiously, as if testing them out, imploring gaze piercing your heart. Omit. Omit. Omit.

“We... we dated.” You leave it at that for now.

“Oh.” He seems… surprised? Bordering relieved. “I figured. How long were we together?”

Nonono, he’s going in the wrong direction. How can you avoid telling him the truth when he asks such a direct question? You don’t want him to know too much just yet, but you can’t keep being so vague. “We dated for a few years.”

“How many years?”

“Four.” That is the truth. He doesn’t need to know any more than that. Yet.

“That’s-“ His face falls slightly and you watch him closely. “That’s a long time.” Just as you had predicted, Jimin feels guilty and embarrassed. He looks sadder about this than he did about the Taehyung ordeal, probably because he could at least remember Tae a little, but he has no idea who you are. And you probably know everything about him. Well, this is exactly what you didn’t want to happen. “I’m sorry, now I feel like an asshole.”

“No, it’s not your fault!” You say maybe a little too excitedly. “None of this is your fault.”

“I know, but I still feel bad.” He frowns. “...At least I feel a little better about how I felt when I first saw you, though.” His face colors and yours lifts with interest. “When I first met you the other day,” You frown internally. “I couldn’t believe you were talking to me. I’m sorry if I looked frozen, but you have to understand, it’s a little intimidating to have someone as beautiful as you randomly walk up to me on the street— and then touch my face and hug me.”

“Oh my gosh,” You hide your face in your hands, embarrassed by your impulsive decision the other day and because your insides are melting from his simple confession. Hearing Jimin call you beautiful is something you hadn’t expected to hear today and you were completely unprepared to be this flustered. He giggles at your reaction, not even trying to hide his own blush. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“Neither was I. I didn’t mean to come off so rude when I said I didn’t know who you were, I just didn’t know how else to break the news.”

“Stop apologizing to me, bab-“ You barely catch yourself before you let the word slip, replacing it with a sharp inhale. He doesn’t catch it. “Nothing you’ve done is wrong, I’m just glad you’re back, memory or not.”

They say the eyes are the windows to a person’s soul. Well, you hope he can see yours. You stare into each other’s eyes for a long time in silence, connecting wordlessly without realizing it. You don’t know what swims in your eyes, but you see comfort swimming in his.

“It’s really hard to explain, but you’re so easy to talk to. You’re... comfortable. Not you, but you make me comfortable.” He’s said this before, these exact words, and it stops you in your tracks. Like déjà vu, you relive this moment from your first date, and it almost makes you miss the rest of what he’s saying. “I’m nervous to talk to you because my heart keeps doing flips, yet at the same time, I’m the most relaxed I’ve been in days. You’re so familiar to me but I can’t remember. It’s so frustrating, like having a word on the tip of your tongue but you just can’t get to it.” His hand threads through his hair in that habit of his, and you let the action bring you to the present.

You want to tell him that he doesn’t need to remember you, that it’s okay if he doesn’t and that you won’t be hurt by it— and this is true— but you really hope that he does remember something. Feeling familiar is a good sign, right? Although you hate getting your hopes up, you allow it just this once.

“Maybe your memories are still there? They might just be hiding somewhere deep in your brain and you have to work to find them?” Jimin finds the look in your eyes cute when you say this, bright and positive, something else that feels oh-so-familiar.

“Maybe...” He chews on his lip as if he were in deep thought, the action concealing how he takes the time to once again look you over. You are quite beautiful, he wonders how he got you originally, and if you were still dating when he had his accident. But those are questions he hasn’t worked up the nerve to ask yet, so he saves them for later.

“Do you think you’ll remember something if we spend more time together? I could show you around town if that will help?”

“Is that your way of asking me on a date?” He asks smugly, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth teasingly. It gets a reaction out of you and you smile brighter than he’s seen, rolling your eyes because that wasn’t your original intention but you guess he’s right.

“Depends. Is your answer ‘yes’?”

“I guess...” He tries to play it cool, but his heart is doing somersaults in his chest, so much so that he has to look away from you for a bit to calm himself. He hasn’t felt this much excitement since he was finally able to walk on his own in physical therapy.

“Something you might learn about me is that I can be quite flirty.” You wink, earning a giggle from him. You aren’t nearly as flirty as he is, however, and you’re almost eager to find out if that part of him is still the same.

“That’s great and all, but it’s still surface level. I want to know more than just one sentence summaries of you.” His head tilts to the side and you flounder a bit, trying to think of something to say.

“I don’t know what to say about myself.” You finally relent, scratching the back of your head.

“Hm. How about you tell me some stories? They don’t have to be about anything exciting, I just want to know what kind of person you are and what experiences you’ve had.” Of all the stories you have readily available in the forefront of your mind, Jimin is in 90% of them. Picking through the assortment, you choose one that involves the two of you, Jungkook, Taehyung, and Mina.

And that’s how the second part of your date(?) goes. The stories flow from you like a free tap at a bar, and Jimin enjoys every second of it. You order some food when your stomachs start growling, and you’re pleased to know that he has the same taste as before, showing interest in his usual order as he looks over the menu for the “first time”, and you snicker when he takes his first bite and you see his mind get blown all over again. This feeling, the comfort he was talking about earlier, it takes over the atmosphere and it almost feels normal again. For at least a few hours, you get to be the person you once were a long time ago: cheerful, bubbly, and full of enthusiasm. The residual gloom you’ve felt for the past 3 years seems to dissipate into thin air.

——

You have a headache. It pounds at your temples like a bass drum in a marching band, throbbing in time with your heart. Popping two aspirin, you drag your feet through your home with a yawn and click on the stove to start breakfast.

Saturday was amazing. It far exceeded your expectations in every aspect, mainly because you didn’t expect for it to be so easy to talk to Jimin. For some reason, you thought he would be different, that it would be awkward to talk about yourself because you felt that he already knew all of it. But no. He’s exactly the same, and it was almost refreshing to start over like that. You’d never forget anything about him, but getting to ease back into things was definitely helpful.

But that’s precisely the problem. What does “things” entail? Did you expect to get back together with him? Was that your intention? As you had predicted, your feelings have not changed for him, but it most likely will not be the same for him. Plus, you have another person to worry about, the man that you promised to go on a date with today, Jaebeom. He had been so sweet when you apologized for not messaging him all weekend, having almost completely forgotten about him after spending time with Jimin. You were texting Jimin practically nonstop to continue whatever you didn’t get to finish saying in person, and the other man never crossed your mind during that time. When you finally got back to him on Sunday night, you agreed to go out with him on Wednesday, thinking you would have at least some of your feelings figured out by then.

You were wrong.

It’s Wednesday and nothing has been figured out or resolved, and it’s giving you a headache from how much you’ve been thinking about it. Jaebeom doesn’t even know you’re having second thoughts about him yet and it only makes you feel worse. As far as he knows, he is the only person you’ve shown interest in in several years, and as far as he can tell, you’re pretty into him. Taking it slow doesn’t seem to bother him one bit, and you’re beginning to wonder just how much he actually likes you. Dragging this out wouldn’t be fair to him, but you aren’t really in the position to cut him off just yet because you have no idea what you want to do. He is an option— a very good option— but could you keep seeing him while you’re still figuring out what’s going to happen with you and Jimin? That might be awkward for both parties. Knowing you, you won’t be able to keep them from knowing about each other for long, but neither of them are your boyfriend at the moment, so it’s okay, right? You need time to decide what will happen between you and Jimin, but the question is, will Jaebeom be willing to wait for you? Another hard pound in your skull has you wincing. Maybe things will be a little easier to work through once you see him.

Jaebeom decided on an outdoor date this time, choosing a park to walk around with you. Exercise always clears your head, so you were excited, but that excitement wanes when you are hit with a flashback. It must be the smell of the trees that has you leaping back in time to when Jimin took you on a walk through a trail nearby one sunny afternoon, and you shared your first kiss by the creek under the cover of the leaves. You shake away the flash of heat that washes over you, stretching your calf muscles against the curb as Jaebeom locks the car.

“Are you going to wear that jacket? You might get pretty warm once we start walking.” You look down at yourself at his question, thinking about it for a moment. “We’re here for exercise, this won’t be a walk in the park.” He grins at his own joke and you click your tongue, unable to help the chuckle that leaves your lips.

“This is, in fact, a walk in the park but I guess you’re right.” You throw the jacket into his back seat before he locks the door again and you head out on your path.

The material of your leggings shields you from the small bugs that jump up from the grass with each of your steps. The morning dew has not yet evaporated, wetting the toes of your tennis shoes on your short walk to the start of the path. For the first few minutes the only sound is the crunch of dry dirt beneath your feet and the birds chirping in the trees around you. You tell yourself that it isn’t uncomfortable, but your mind is racing in an attempt to produce something interesting to talk about. Jaebeom doesn’t seem bothered by the quiet, taking a deep breath of the fresh air with a smile on his face as he sets a fast walking pace. It’s almost 10 minutes in before your first words are exchanged. It starts as small talk, comments about the surrounding nature shifting into deeper conversations about anything that comes to mind after the ice is broken.

Unlike with Jimin, Jaebeom keeps you on your toes. Yes, he is easy to talk to and knows how to hold your interest, but you never get the chance to get completely relaxed around him. He throws in curveballs that make you flush and stutter around your responses, changes topics quickly and asks questions you’ve never even thought of before. He doesn’t take himself too seriously and has the humor of a 45 year old dad, throwing in jokes when you least expect it. He’s also very intelligent (not that Jimin isn’t just as smart), rattling off facts about the animals or plants you spot as you trek deeper into the trail. It’s hard to keep up— both conversationally and physically as he maintains his pace with his long legs— but you are thoroughly enjoying yourself. Until you pass this one spot.

“Looks like you can get to the bank of the creek from there.” He points to a narrow clearing through the trees and grass that leads straight to the water that runs beside your walking path. The bank is muddy but the water is somewhat clear, rushing over smooth rocks and stones.

Just seeing the area reignites something within you. That date with Jimin where he pulled you off the path and through the narrow clearing to the water. He taught you how to skip rocks and laughed when you threw the first stone straight down and it splashed back up into your face. You sat on the dry part of the bank where the grass grew and looked up at the clouds together, somehow ending up with your faces just a centimeter apart, and it was there that you kissed for the first time. You don’t even remember who leaned in first, just that you never wanted it to end, and when it did you couldn’t stop thinking about it. The feeling lingers on your lips even still.

Attempting to avert your attention from the place that now gets further behind you as you stride on, you stare at Jaebeom. He’s speaking and even though you are literally watching his mouth form the words, you don’t catch a single thing he’s saying. It’s your unfocused staring that causes you to trip, your foot skidding and rolling over a loose rock, the side of your foot making contact with the ground instead of your sole. Your left leg catches your weight, but the moment you place your right foot down again, pain shoots up your leg. You must have made a noise because your date snaps his head toward you and in an instant he’s reaching out to balance you as you hop on your good foot.

“Did you roll your ankle?” He asks as he helps you over to a nearby bench. Concern laces his voice and covers his face, and you suddenly feel bad. You nod quietly. “Let me look at it.” Kneeling in front of you, Jaebeom gingerly takes your foot in his hand, inspecting it and pushing lightly around your ankle. When you wince he apologizes, moving on to pushing at the bottom of your foot with the palm of his hand to check it’s motion.

“You seem to know a little bit of everything, don’t tell me you’re a doctor too?” You grin, your face twitching when he turns your ankle to the side. He nods thoughtfully at your reaction before answering.

“I used to coach on some recreational sports teams for kids, I’ve seen my fair share of injuries.” He places your foot back on the ground softly and sighs. “I don’t think it’s sprained. Though, I’m not at all qualified to make that diagnosis, so you should probably get it checked out by someone when we get back.”

“Eh, I don’t think I need to, it isn’t that bad.” You shrug, testing out its mobility from your seat. He looks unsure.

“Can you walk back, or do you need me to carry you?”

“We’re pretty far out, do you think you’d be able to carry me that far?” It isn’t an insult, this he knows, but he still chooses to tease you about it.

“You don’t think I can?” He challenges, albeit playfully, standing boldly in front of you. A laugh bubbles from your throat as you stand as well.

“I never said that. I was asking a question.”

“We won’t know unless we find out. Hop on.” Jaebeom doesn’t give you time to reject his offer before he’s crouching down and grabbing you behind the knees, making you fall onto his back with a surprised yelp and instinctively wrap your arms around his neck. Once he stands, he adjusts you with a hop.

“Good?” He smiles at your pout.

“Good.” You respond, rolling your eyes when he starts to walk.

Seeing from this perspective up high, you get the chance to look back down at the bank when you pass it again, biting the inside of your cheek in thought. Those times you had with Jimin feel like a lifetime ago, yet you can envision them so clearly. You feel horrible for thinking about this while on the back of another man. Jaebeom is so caring and sweet, checking in with you to make sure you are comfortable and keeping your spirits up with corny jokes that make you laugh out loud. You’re embarrassed by the looks people give the two of you when you pass them, but he seems proud. He’s a perfect match for you, someone you could move forward with and welcome into your future, but you keep finding yourself stuck in the past. Unable to let go of the memories. You can’t ignore the butterflies you feel, however, whenever Jaebeom slips sly compliments into his commentary or whenever you feel his muscles flex when he readjusts you. Your heart is as fickle as a seesaw.

You’re sure he’s dead set on proving to you that he can walk the whole way, but you can tell he’s fatigued by his heavy panting and increased sweating. “You can put me down now, I think I can walk the rest of the way.”

“No, we’re not that far, I can make it.” He huffs, eyes trained straight ahead.

“Jaebeom, really, I can walk. My ankle doesn’t even hurt that bad anymore, see.” To show him, you stick your leg out and move your ankle around in all directions, the pain now dull enough to ignore. He stops, sighs, and places you down begrudgingly.

“Okay, but at least let me help you.” As soon as he offers his arm to you, you take it, leaning some of your weight on him since he’s too tall for you to sling your arm across his shoulders. You hobble awkwardly for a few steps before evening out, trying not to limp as much as possible so you don’t accidentally hurt the other leg. Jaebeom talks the rest of the way back to the car and it’s an amazing distraction, and before you know it he’s unlocking the door and helping you inside before sliding into the driver’s seat next to you.

He pauses once the key is in the ignition, hesitating. There’s an apologetic look on his face when he turns to you, as if he had done something wrong. You question it.

“What’s with the sad look?”

“I just feel bad that you got hurt on our date. I wanted to do something different this time, but it backfired.” He sighs, glancing down at your leg.

“Don’t feel bad, it’s my fault for being clumsy.” And for thinking about someone else while on a date with you, You think. “Since we had to cut our walk short, do you want to hang at my place for a while?” For some reason, you’re blushing. The heat on your cheeks rises as you bite your lip, hoping your offer didn’t come off the wrong way. He seems surprised, searching your eyes to confirm that you are serious, before a wide smile finds its way to his lips.

“I would love to.” His guilt is resolved quickly as he turns the key to start up his car.

A gust of cool air blows in your face when you open the front door of your house, the air conditioning on blast to dispel the rising temperatures outside. You hold the door for Jaebeom and shut it behind him, watching as he takes in your decor. This is the first time he’s actually been inside your home. It feels odd to let a man into your living space, but at the same time, it’s nice to have the space filled by someone other than yourself. Both of your shoes are left at the door as you walk deeper into the cool building, the removal of your shoe making the heat of your swollen foot more noticeable.

“This place is pretty big for just you.” He comments, following you into the kitchen. You spare him a glance as your hand reaches for the cold metal of your refrigerator door, pulling the handle and retrieving two water bottles.

“That’s because it wasn’t always just me.” You toss a bottle in his direction before opening the freezer for an ice pack.

“Uh-oh. Do I sense a tragic backstory coming?” He jokes, wiggling his eyebrows. But when he sees the semi-serious look on your face, the humor drops from his. “Wait, really?”

You didn’t expect to tell him about this just yet, especially because you haven’t fully figured out what Jimin’s role in your life would be moving forward. There’s no reason to lie to him about it, the past is in the past and the facts are what they are, you just hope it doesn’t make things uncomfortable between you. Jaebeom is curious now, waiting for you to explain and giving you all the time you need to prepare yourself. You decide to take this time to situate yourself on the couch in your living room. Sitting sideways on the cushions, you lay your injured leg in front of you and place the ice pack onto the throbbing side of your foot.

“You shouldn’t apply cold to your bare skin,” He advises, returning to your kitchen briefly and bringing back a paper towel to wrap the pack in. “Also, it would help to elevate it to reduce the swelling.” In an instant, he is maneuvering your legs to sit under them, placing a pillow on his lap before gently resting your foot atop it. The ice sits on the swollen part of your ankle, and you sigh at the much more bearable cold.

“Thank you.” A shy smile isn’t enough to show how grateful you are for his help. He doesn’t ask you again, but you know his earlier inquiry still lingers in the air around you, so you decide to face it head on. “I bought this house with someone else about 4 years ago.”

“An ex?”

You look down, unsure of how to answer that. Was Jimin your ex? You choose to avoid his question. “We lived together for about a year before he was in a plane crash and disappeared. I decided to keep living here because I didn’t feel like moving again, so that’s why I’m still here.”

“He was in a plane crash? That’s horrible! Did they ever find his body?” You almost laugh at this, cracking a smirk that you couldn’t hide fast enough. It’s funny in an ironic way, because who the hell would have expected him to return from the dead after 3 years? That’s a plot twist you’ve only seen in movies, and it’s still hard to wrap your mind around.

“Actually, he isn’t dead. He just returned to our town last week.” The look on Jaebeom’s face is priceless, and you would laugh at that too if it wasn’t for the slight disappointment in his eyes. Of course he wouldn’t ever wish for anyone to be dead, but there’s an underlying worry that you won’t be able to reassure out of him. “He has amnesia, so he doesn’t remember me at all, so I met with him on Saturday to reintroduce myself. Though, it was mostly just to convince myself that he was really alive.” You confess.

“Is that where you were this weekend?” Not an ounce of jealousy or bitterness is in his voice. For that, you are thankful.

“Yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t respond to you earlier, I was going through some things.” You look away from him again in embarrassment, but from what, you don’t know. This shouldn’t be embarrassing. He is one of the most understanding and forgiving people you have ever met, and this is a primary example of that.

“I told you, it’s fine. We’re both adults, it’s okay if you can’t respond to a text for a few days because something important came up. If I was in your place, I would do the same thing.” He smiles. “How did it go?”

The question catches you off guard. You didn’t think he would want to hear about it, but you’re glad he’s extended an invitation for you to talk about it because you haven’t gotten the chance to yet. Well, Joy and Mina have been badgering you for details over text all week, but you weren’t able to communicate your true feelings in writing. And although he might not be the best person to talk to about this topic, you’re dying to get some things off your chest.

“It went well, I think. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it turned out okay. Have you ever met someone who has amnesia?” He shakes his head. “It’s the weirdest feeling ever. It’s like when you accidentally mistake someone for someone else, so you go up to them and start a conversation like you’re close friends, and then that person looks at you funny and breaks the news that they aren’t who you think they are and that they, in fact, have never even met you before. But the weird part is that you do know them, they just don’t know you.”

“I couldn’t imagine what that must be like.” It looks like he’s actually trying to envision himself in that situation, and you feel your chest warm up. When you open your mouth to speak again, he glances at the clock and removes the ice pack from your leg, replacing it with his hand, rubbing over the frigid flesh lightly. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but is it okay if I massage this a bit? It’ll help it heal.” Your mouth parts dumbly at the way his fingers dance over you, but you pull yourself together enough to nod. “Please, continue.”

“A-Anyway, he could barely remember his own best friend, so I spent most of the time telling him stories about them and things we all experienced together with our other friends.” Your voice starts again softly, still watching his hands. “It was an odd mix of emotions. I could finally reminisce old times with someone, but I hated that he didn’t share the same nostalgic feeling that I had when I thought back to those days.”

“Did you talk to him about your relationship?” Is his next inquiry, causing your nose to wrinkle.

“Not completely...” You scratch at the back of your neck when he looks at you. “I didn’t want to overload him with information on the first day, I figured I should take it slow.” Take it slow. That’s the exact same thing you had told Jaebeom when you first started seeing each other. It’s what you keep reminding him of whenever he gets too close or comfortable. You can tell the words strike something within him by the way his mouth sets in a frown for a split second before bouncing back to its neutral line. Did he think you meant romantically? That’s not at all what you intended, but it could be interpreted that way. He doesn’t comment on it, so you quickly try to explain. “I mean, eventually I will tell him, but we’re both on different paths now so I don’t feel the need to rush into telling him the details.”

You swallow as his fingers feel at the muscles running along the side of your leg, the light pressure and warmth of his hand sending a tingle through you that you haven’t felt in a while. It’s quiet for a beat, both your eyes trained on your leg as he works.

“Do you think he’ll ever get his memories back?” He looks at you deeply, the question genuine, and you can’t determine a motive for it except that he’s trying to determine if he should consider Jimin competition or not.

“I’m not sure.”

“Do you want him to get his memories back?” This one’s a bit trickier, and you force out an answer before you give yourself time to think about it.

“Yes and no. I want him to remember out of sympathy because he’s missing memories from half of his life, and that must be terrible— especially since the past decade of our lives were where we defined our identities and personalities. But at the same time, I don’t want him to remember because it might complicate things. I want closure so I can move on, possibly with you.” It’s a lot easier to say this when Jimin isn’t here, sitting in front of you. It’s easier to spew this nonsense to appease the man in front of you for now while you try to determine whether or not what you’ve just said is true. Honestly, you have no idea if you’ll be able to move on once you get used to having Jimin around again. You don’t know if you’ll even want to move on if he somehow gets his memories back or falls in love with you again. Because the truth is that you’re still in love with him and you never stopped loving him, that’s the reason your life has been a living Hell up until last week, and it will most likely take an incredible amount of willpower and strength to ignore those feelings the closer you get to Jimin. But in this moment, moving on seems like a very possible goal.

Jaebeom is pleased with your response, breaking into a smile at the implication of you having a relationship with him in the future. “Closure.” He repeats, tasting the word. “Is that why you told me you were emotionally unavailable when I first asked you out? Because of him?”

“Yes.” Not that it was his fault. You find yourself defending Jimin in your head, rolling your eyes at yourself mentally.

“I think closure will be good for you. Not everyone gets to see their lost loved ones again and heal their trauma, you should take advantage of this. Plus, this is the happiest I’ve seen you since we first met,” Soft eyes land on you as he looks you over and chills travel your body with his gaze.

“Really?” You hadn’t noticed your change in mood over the past few days because of the tornado of emotions inside your head, but he’s right. You can safely say that since seeing Jimin this weekend, you’ve had more than a few good days, something you haven’t experienced since before he went missing.

“Yeah, and I must say, happy looks good on you. I thought you were beautiful before, but now you’re absolutely stunning with the extra brightness in your attitude. You look... alive.” It might be a weird compliment for some, but hearing him say that you look livelier than before is touching. Most of the time, you have to force yourself to look that way, remind yourself to smile at people that you actually want to see, force energy into your deadpanned words when speaking. You’ve tried makeup and brighter clothes to offset the gloominess in your eyes and heart, but clearly that hasn’t worked. To hear him say that you look happy again— like your old self that he never knew— without trying, is beyond uplifting. His more obvious compliment is not lost on you either. “I know you haven’t been happy lately and that you need time to work out everything with him, but I would like to try and fill that hole that he left in you and make you happy in my own way. I really like you, (Y/n), and I want to be here for you.”

You blush, feeling heat rise up your chest and face at the attention he’s giving you now. His hands continue to rub at your leg, moving higher until he reaches your knee, and goosebumps break out on your skin from the contact. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched by someone, even in a non-sexual context, and just the feeling of his hand creeping up your leg is enough to wind you up. He notices instantly and hides his smirk. His eyes stare into yours in an attempt to read you, frozen until you make the first move or push his hand away. When it becomes clear that you are also waiting for him to do something, he slides his hand back down to your foot again, pressing his fingers into your muscle gently on the way down, and you take in a sharp inhale.

“I’m sorry, did that hurt?” He says quickly, removing his hand from you in fear that his actions have hurt you, but instead of replying you move your body until you are kneeling right next to him on the couch. Your faces are a breath away as you look at each other. What were you about to do?

For some reason, you felt the urge to kiss him. After just talking about Jimin and your unresolved trauma, your brain felt that the next logical step was to kiss Jaebeom. Maybe it’s because you have opened up to him in a way that hasn’t happened between you before. Or maybe it’s because he confessed his feelings in words to you. He is the first man who has shown genuine care for you in years and you don’t know what to do with that. You’ve just told him the cause of your brokenness and he didn’t run away, so maybe that’s why your heart is pounding so hard as you blink back at him. Whatever it is, this probably isn’t the best idea. You do it anyway.

Just before he can open his mouth to say something, you close the space between you, connecting your lips in one swift move. He responds gracefully, however, his hands ghosting your back with uncertainty until you shift to straddle his lap. You hate how you fumble at first like it’s your first time, nearly falling over in your eagerness to sit atop him. His lips feel so good on you that you almost moan once you fall into rhythm, your disposition no longer shy as you place your hands on his shoulders and deepen the kiss. Now, his hands find their way to your waist, squeezing with affection and reverence, surely feeling lucky that you have finally let down a wall and allowed him to hold you like this. He uses this as an opportunity to explore your midsection, mindful of your chest because that’s a boundary you haven’t given him consent to cross yet, but his touch still ignites a burning in your lower stomach. His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, asking for entrance before snaking it’s way in, and your fingers tighten on the fabric of his shirt as you give in to the sensations of him.

At some point, his hands reach your ass, and once you arch into him, he pulls you closer. Just a little higher on his lap, but you take it upon yourself to scoot the rest of the way up until you sit directly above his bulge. You feel the way he gasps into your mouth, and just when your hips begin to roll he pulls away. He pushes your hips back just far enough so you can’t feel how he’s starting to harden, and your mind starts to clear instantly.

“We should... take it slow.” He pants, blinking a few times to clear his own head.

The reminder of your own words is what makes you stop and think. What the hell were you doing? This is by far the most impulsive thing you have done in a long while, yet you can’t say that it didn’t feel good not to overthink. You’ll leave that for later, but for now, you won’t let him see how badly you’ve just messed up. It’ll only make him feel bad.

“Y-Yeah, I should slow down.” You slouch a little, still on his lap with your hands on his broad shoulders. He’s an amazing kisser, you almost lose your train of thought just looking at his lips again. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He reassures, pushing a flyaway strand of hair back up to your ponytail. “Let’s take baby steps. We just had an emotionally vulnerable conversation, I don’t think now is the time to take leaps and bounds into anything. I wouldn’t want you doing something you aren’t ready for. Or something you’ll regret.”

But it’s too late for that. You don’t know if you regret kissing him, but that definitely wasn’t the right move. All it’s really done is confuse you further about your feelings because you really like him, but until you decide what you want to happen in regards to your relationship with Jimin, it wouldn’t be smart to lead him on into anything that you aren’t willing to finish. The last thing you want is to give Jaebeom a false sense of the situation, to think that he has your heart exclusively when you are actually torn between two men. What you’ve actually done is reassure him of that false hope by kissing him and losing your self control, which is the opposite of what you should have done.

“Thank you,” You sigh, finally moving off of him. “For not taking advantage of me. You really are a great guy.”

You aren’t doing anything, but Jaebeom soon finds that he continues to harden in his pants the longer he stares at you, so, reluctantly, he stands. You try to ignore the way he adjusts himself in his pants, a blush cloaking both of your faces. “I’m just trying to be a decent person,” He scratches his head bashfully. “I think I should go.”

You nod as you walk him to the door, the soreness of your ankle just a little bit less than it was before. Slipping on his shoes, he stands with his hand on the doorknob.

“Sorry about our date.” He motions to your foot and you shake your head.

“No, I had fun, don’t apologize.”

“Really?” You hum an assurance. Hope returns to his eyes and you feel your heart flutter. When you think about it later, you know you’ll hate yourself for complicating things by kissing him, but right now you want nothing more than to do it again. This could be a blossoming new romance for you, and it’s frightening. As he stands here, you try to convince yourself that you’re ready for it. “I had a good time, too. But I still want to do better for our next date, so I have some planning to do. I’ll text you!”

Turning the knob, he opens the front door, but pauses before stepping out. You realize after a second that he’s waiting for a goodbye from you. Should you kiss him on the cheek like usual? Or should you give him a real kiss this time? You don’t know if you’ll be able to stop yourself again if you kiss him fully again, so you settle for a small peck to his lips, pulling away far too quickly and sending him on his way. You barely wait for his car to pull out of your driveway before you slam the door shut, letting your forehead rest on the wood before walking back into your living room.

——

Foggy blue streaks through your curtains in typical sleepy morning fashion. But you’re wide awake, jittery muscles causing you to toss and turn in bed until you sit up and decide to start your day. You pour one cup of coffee, black to shock your system enough to wake you fully, taking the extra time to cook an actual breakfast. It’s bright outside by the time you finish eating, flying through your bathroom routine in record time. The extra time is wasted on picking an outfit, checking the weather multiple times to determine whether or not you should wear the new flowy top you bought last week. You eventually do choose the top but decide to go with a pair of worn jean shorts to look as casual as possible.

No accessories today— well, maybe a bracelet and some earrings. This isn’t a date by any means, but you figure you should still try to look nice today. That velvet box is still tucked in its corner, never going unnoticed but purposely ignored as you check the time on your phone and walk towards the front door.

Jimin insisted that you and Taehyung both show him around your town, stating that he wanted it to feel like the old times you told him about where the three of you would get into all sorts of trouble together. You insisted that he didn’t have to force anything if it made him uncomfortable, but he simply laughed and told you not to worry. And Taehyung insisted on driving. Truth be told, you were nervous to see Taehyung again after the radio silence between the two of you for the past 6 months. Of course there wasn’t any hostility or anything between you, but you weren’t sure how you would feel when you got to see him in person. Trying not to think too hard about it, you’re just about to text said man when the doorbell rings.

With a deep breath you open the door, only to be faced with a broad chest, defined collarbones, and a chiseled jawline. Taehyung always stands too close to people, which is something you’ve complained to him about many times over, and it seems he still hasn’t changed. But it’s… refreshing.

“Hey.” He greets in his deep voice, the familiarity soothing your nerves.

Yeah. That’s right. This is Kim Taehyung, a man you’ve known since senior year of high school, someone you’ve grown close to over the years and have shared many laughs with. The man who treated you like his sister when you finally went official with Jimin and took your side in arguments when his best friend was being unreasonable. The first person you invited to all your gatherings. The person you clung to at the memorial service when you were too weak to stand on your own and crying your heart out. How could you forget? How could you ever be anxious about this reunion?

“Hi, Tae.” You choke out, getting a good look at him once he finally takes a step back. He’s aged a bit since you last saw him, stress having painted lines on his forehead and dimmed the brightness in his eyes just slightly. But he looks healthy, something you’re glad to see. “You ghosted me.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, I just couldn’t-“ He sighs and you know exactly what he means.

“You promised to keep in touch with me.” Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you try to keep your face as unreadable as his.

“I know.”

“…I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” He reaches for a hug that you openly accept and it feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest. You’ve always communicated with him like this, blunt and straightforward, completely honest with each other. He’s the type of person that brings that out of people, which is one of the reasons Jimin chose him as his best friend, but sometimes you find yourself saying to him things you didn’t even know you were thinking. And it isn’t until you say it out loud that you realize how you actually feel— that you did miss him. Neither of you had expected to lose another friend on top of losing Jimin, and you guess you ignored that pain until now.

“You and I are friends too, so don’t go disappearing on me again, okay?” You muffle into his chest, and Taehyung nods as he pulls back from the hug, smiling that boxy grin of his.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll do better.” He gives a noncommittal shrug and you can only shake your head at his antics.

“Where’s Jimin?”

“In the car. I told him to give me a minute with you. Thought you’d be mad at me.”

“I am mad at you.” You roll your eyes.

“Well you better get over it because we have a full day ahead of us and no time for pouting.” Intrigued, you tilt your head in curiosity.

“Oh yeah? What do you have planned?”

“Jimin doesn’t remember anything that’s happened in the last 10 years and this place has changed a lot since then. I figured we could give him the tour of everything instead of trying to look for the places he doesn’t remember.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

“Sheesh, that’s gonna take forever.”

“I know, that’s why I said we have a long day ahead of us! I really want him to get a feel for this place since it must be weird for him to be back and not recognize much of anything. If we can knock this tour out in one day then hopefully he’ll feel a bit more comfortable moving forward and won’t be as confused all the time. Also, he’s really been looking forward to this day with us, so I want to make the most of it.” Taehyung rubs his arm almost bashfully, pulling a smile from you. Despite not being the most outwardly affectionate person, Tae always worries about Jimin and looks out for him; and if seeing Jimin uncomfortable and disoriented in his hometown is hard for you to watch, you can’t imagine how it’s affecting Taehyung.

As soon as you enter the car, you’re met with the beam of sunshine named Park Jimin. He’s almost bouncing with excitement, asking if the two of you made up and gushing about getting to spend time as a trio once again. You guess Tae was right, he really was looking forward to this.

The day goes by in a flash, the three of you starting off at the very edge of town and working your way to the center, and you’re almost surprised by how thought out Tae’s plans for the day are. You feel like a tourist in your own town, like seeing it for the first time in years as he takes you on the scenic route down memory lane. Flashes of your old (well, younger) selves appear throughout the town and neighborhoods that you grew up in, running around, goofing off and enjoying the youth you once basked in together. You see in Taehyung’s eyes that he’s seeing the same thing, but Jimin’s eyes are fresh and new, only vague remembrance in them. Jimin is having so much fun, but the original trio doesn’t feel the same. It’s almost like having 2 and a half people instead of 3, Jimin being physically the same for the most part, but not mentally on the same page as you two.

“What’s that look for?” Taehyung approaches as you both wait for Jimin to buy a snack at a small food stall, the two of you looking on as if watching over your child.

“I don’t know, things just feel different.” You mumble, not really wanting to say it out loud. “It’s hard to reminisce when he doesn’t remember what we’re talking about, and every time I think back, all I feel is sadness. Like that Jimin is gone forever.” You can remember snippets of days you spent exploring the area with you lover, growing deeper bonds with him outside of when Taehyung was there with you, and to think all of that is gone, that you have to start over, is hurting you more than you thought.

“Well, just because he’s starting over doesn’t mean he’s not the same person. He’s still Jimin, not some alien that l took over his body. He’s got the same sense of humor and makes the same jokes he used to, and he’s just as happy to spend time with us as he used to be. So what if he can’t remember, we can start fresh and make new memories instead of trying to relive the old ones.” Pushing off the wall that he was leaning on, Tae turns to face you. The brick still digs into your exposed shoulder as you continue to lean on the worn wall. “Look, even if we can remember those times, they’re never coming back. The past is the past and all we can do is keep living in the present— which means we have to be present for the Jimin that’s here now. We already mourned the old Jimin, the one we made all those memories with, the one that knew us, but this is a chance for us to let him get to know who we are now and to rebuild his image of us and our friendship. The best thing we can do for him is to start over and regain his trust and friendship instead of dwelling on the past. So wipe that look off your face and have fun, dammit!” He doesn’t say the last sentence with any anger and even chuckles afterwards, but you still feel a small ache in your heart. You haven’t been having fun this entire time, you’ve been too busy worrying and being stuck in your head, stuck in the past. Man, Taehyung really knows how to talk some sense into you when he needs to, despite saying nonsense most of the time. “And don’t forget to smile. He went on and on earlier about how nice your smile is, yet you haven’t shown it off once today.”

Jimin returns with his snack just as he says this, the slightly older of the men looking confused by how flustered you now look. The day continues and you take on a new perspective for the second half of the tour.

You watch Jimin the entire time, looking on fondly at his awe and excitement, and you realize that you haven’t truly been able to appreciate where you live in a long time. Everything has been covered in a thick fog since you lost Jimin and you haven’t been truly seeing anything around you. The way he and Taehyung point out the things you haven’t noticed makes you see that there is beauty all around you. There was a time that you hated the monotony of your town, hated how ugly the mix of old and new seemed as everyone moved on around you, forgetting about the one person they had lost. It felt as if they had all wanted to change, renovate, as soon as Jimin disappeared, but now you realize that you were the only one standing still. Even Tae had adopted a new outlook on life, and that is why he is so prepared to handle Jimin as he is now. That speech he gave you resonated, and it’s as if the world has gained its color back, a smile stretching over your lips.

“You have a really pretty smile.” Jimin says to you, smiling sheepishly himself. Tae gives you a look as if to say “told ya so”.

By the end of the day, you feel like you can breathe again. And this feeling carries on into the night, leading to the most restful sleep you’ve had in 3 years.

#Jimin #jimin fluff #I remember

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thatshithurted8 · 3 years

Text

Lake Chelan

Heyy💜 so i have a req for Vinnie😍 based on this tiktok: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMdaeQPS7/ So the readers that girl and they had like the most amazing date and for whatever reason vinnie forgot to ask her number so they never met again until years later the reader is actually a big tiktok star and moves in with nai. One day nai’s on live and vinnie’s watching and then the reader shows up on live and he’s like ???!!!!! And freaks out cause it’s the girl he’s never been able to forget. @canyoubuymetoast

Summary: An impromptu connection quickly turns into an unforgettable yet unrealistic one. Despite this a few years later Vinnie finally gets a second chance to reignite said connection.

Warning: Tooth rotting fluff

Word Count: 3.4k

“You know your help would be great Vinnie.” Reggie says sarcastically while trying his best to figure out how to pitch their tent. Maria and Nate went off to scope the area since they already set up their tent, so it left the two Hacker brothers to figure out how to create their sleeping arrangements.

“Yea yea one sec.” He responds placing his phone on the picnic table he was sitting on before looking up to see a German Shepard walking towards him. Vinnie’s eyes instantly brighten and a smile washes over his face as he calls the dog over.

The black and brown dog trots over to Vinnie with a wagging tail and almost immediately the friendly animal starts to leave slobbery kisses all over Vinnie’s face. Vinnie lets out a laugh as he moves his face out of the way, but continues to the pet the dog.

“Who’s dog is that?” Reggie asks walking over to his brother, giving up on the tent.

“I don’t know it just came up to me. It’s friendly though.”

Reggie simply shrugs his shoulders and joins his brother in petting the dog. However, just as Vinnie opened his mouth to suggest that they should call the number on the dogs collar an unfamiliar voice calls out.

“Zeus! Where are you boy?”

Reggie looks up from the dog and his mouth almost immediately drops open when he see’s a gorgeous girl searching the area looking for something. He nudges his brother who was still petting the dog and cooing at it in a baby voice. Vinnie looks up at Reggie annoyed before he decides to look at what his brothers line of vision was fixated on.

As Vinnie looks over yours and his eyes simultaneously meet. Albeit cliché, Vinnie could’ve sworn he had the air knocked out of him just by making eye contact with you. He’s never felt anything like it before.

You on the other hand quickly glance down and relief washes over you as you finally spot your dog that wandered off of your families campsite. You quickly walk over to Zeus, your dog and the two boys that were with him.

“Zeus I should’ve known you went to mooch food off of strangers!” You exclaim to your dog who quickly walks over to your side before you finally look back up and make eye contact with the boys. As you do so seemingly the same effect you had on Vinnie, he had on you. How did you not realize how attractive he was when you were walking over to them?

“I’m sorry about him he does this at every campsite we go to. You would think we don’t feed him, but he’s just a glutton.” You say, heat washing over your face due to the fact your dog wandered off and found the most attractive guys you’ve ever seen.

“No no it’s okay we needed a break.” Vinnie says nodding over to the unpitched tent while smiling at how flustered you got from his gaze on you.

Reggie scoffs looking at you then his brother. “We needed a break?” He asks with a raised eyebrow. “Vinnie, I’ve been trying to set up the tent for the last 15 minutes while you were trying to find service so you could make a tiktok.”

It was now Vinnie’s turn to be flustered. “Pfft, that’s not true.” The blond says obviously fibbing and you simply look at him amused.

“Do you guys need help? My family and I go camping every summer so I’m basically an expert at setting up tents.” You suggest.

“Yea sure that would be great.” Vinnie says standing up for the first time in the last twenty minutes while smiling at you. Without another word the three of you walk over to the unpitched tent with Zeus following along.

“My name is Y/N by the way.” You say glancing at Vinnie before kneeling down to work your magic.

“Vinnie and that’s Reggie.”

And that was how you and Vinnie Hacker met, all thanks to your gluttonous dog who loved showing off his puppy dog eyes to strangers in return for food. Little did either of you know how much this small interaction would have an impact on the other. As the Hacker’s camping trip went on the more your family and Vinnie’s bumped into each other and finally one night your dad invited the Hacker’s over to your campsite for a bonfire. Almost instantly yours and Vinnie’s acquaintance status changed to friends. Soon enough your family and Vinnie’s family spent the rest of the camping trip together, going swimming, boating, tubbing and more.

That was no different for the last full day of your camping trip. In fact Vinnie finally gathered up the courage to ask you on a date despite the fact you two originally lived hours away from each other.

“Thank you.” You say glancing up to the waiter that just took away your empty plates and placed the bill on the table. You look back up at Vinnie who was already staring at you with admiration, causing heat to wash over your face.

Too flustered to look at the boy in front of you, you take in the scenic view. You two sat out on the patio over looking the lake with mountains, foliage and the sun setting in the distance. The restaurant Vinnie took you to was one of the fancy ones in town and the two of you stood out like a sore thumb due to your clothes. Showing up to the restaurant and sitting down to eat in a normal t-shirt and shorts was the equivalent of eating at McDonald’s in a prom dress and suit. Yet, the disapproving stares from other patrons made the whole experience even more memorable.

“This is very nice thank you Vinnie.”

“Anything for you.” He says softly, placing his hand on the table in which you take without hesitating, causing both of your heart beats to increase.

“Do you want to hit O’Riley’s after?” You ask, referencing the ice cream shop the two of you went to seemingly every day of the trip to cool off on your walk back to the campsite after a day full of activities.

Vinnie pulls out his wallet from his shorts to pay for the expensive meal while looking at you with a smile on his face. “Great minds think alike.”

Without another word you two leave the fancy restaurant hand in hand while receiving glares from the regular patrons. Throughout your short walk to the popular ice cream parlor in town the two of you reminisce about the past week and a half together. It honestly felt like a dream.

“You know I wanted to hold your hand on the hike today, but I couldn’t keep up with you and Zeus.” Vinnie says, recalling the hike you guys went on along with Reggie and your brother.

“Clearly you need to work on your stamina, City Boy. That incline wasn’t even that bad.” You joke poking Vinnie in the stomach before leaving his grasp to wander over to the menu of ice cream flavours. Vinnie was infatuated with everything about you and he adored how you made fun of him for being from Seattle. The blond lets out a laugh and follows you, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his chin on the top of your head as he analyzed the menu as well. Almost instantly you melted into his touch.

“Okay Snow White.” He retorts back remembering how basically every animal or even bug seemingly gravitated towards you throughout the trip.

“What can I say Vinnie. I’m just that captivating.” You say turning to look at Vinnie before winking.

After a few minutes of waiting in line and you changing your mind on what flavour you wanted for the fifth time the two of you finally order and make your way over to a bench nearby. You weren’t a stranger to Lake Chelan and what you loved most about the small town was how close everything was. In fact the bench you and Vinnie decided to sit down on wasn’t too far from O’Riley’s, but it was close enough to the lake to witness the scenic view in full.

Once you two sat down you guys instantly turned to each other and tapped the other’s ice cream cones, causing some of your ice cream to transfer to Vinnie’s and some of Vinnie’s to transfer to yours. You introduced this small practice to Vinnie on the third day of hanging out together. In which the reason behind it was simply because you’ve been doing it ever since you were little for good luck and to have a small taste of the other person’s ice cream.

Vinnie watches as you taste his flavour, red velvet while your eyes light up, causing him to smile. “Holy shit yours is good.” You say before taking a lick of your flavour which was blueberry cheese cake. The blond laughs in amusement as your face of delight quickly turns into disgust.

“Yea I definitely should have gotten yours or moose tracks.”

Without hesitating Vinnie softly takes your ice cream cone out of your hand and switches it with his. “There you go.”

“Vinnie, no this is yours.” You say reaching for your ice cream back, but he simply puts his hand above you and ultimately out of your reach.

Vinnie laughs playfully as he watches you attempt to reach the cone with your original flavour from your spot beside him. “Y/N like I said earlier, anything for you.”

You roll your eyes at the blonds cheesiness, but you end up sitting back down placing your head on his shoulder while heat washed over your body at how he made you feel.

The sound of kids riding their bikes, crickets and birds splashing in the lake could be heard while the setting sun continued to reflect off of the water. “It’s so beautiful here.” You say after swallowing your last bite and taking in the view in front of you.

“Yea it is.”

You turn to Vinnie and your heart begins to race when you notice he was already looking at you. Some may think this moment was cliche, but to you it was perfect. In fact your hopeless romantic dreams were being fulfilled.

Vinnie’s gaze on you was intense and you couldn’t bring yourself to break it. Instead you found yourself flickering your eyes down to his plump lips and back up to his brown eyes. Vinnie follows your lead and his proximity causes your breath to hitch.

Without wasting another second Vinnie finally moves in and acts on what he has been wanting to do ever since he got to know you. His lips meet yours and you instantly kiss back, wanting for this to happen for a while yourself.

The kiss was short yet sweet and passionate while leaving both of you flustered. You place your head back onto Vinnie’s shoulder, your hand finding his and intertwining your fingers. A comfortable silence falls upon you two as both of you take in the perfect moment.

“I don’t want this trip to end.” Vinnie says breaking the silence while rubbing his thumb across your skin and admiring the scenic view in front of him.

It scared Vinnie how fast his feelings for you developed and continued to do so and he was quite frankly disappointed that you guys live so far away from each other. Although you both lived in the same state you lived closer to Portland while he remained in Seattle. You two created a once in a lifetime connection throughout a camping trip and it seemed as if it was going to end just like that.

“I promise I’ll say goodbye and give you my number before we leave tomorrow don’t worry.” You say lifting your head off of Vinnie’s shoulder before placing a kiss on his cheek. The whole trip you refused to give Vinnie your number or social medias simply because you realized their was more to life than the internet. You would rather be going hiking or playing in the rain than being on your phone, which Vinnie adored considering he was so consumed with his platform on TikTok.

However, your promise would ultimately be broken when Vinnie woke up the next morning. The blond boy walked over to your campsite with a small bouquet of wildflowers he picked along the way. He could hear the beat of his heart in every step he took, knowing this would be the last time he saw you for a while.

When Vinnie reached your campsite his heart and the bouquet of flowers simultaneously dropped at the same time. Your site was empty. In fact, it looked as if you and your family didn’t even stay there. The only thing that proved that you were there were the tire tracks of your families RV. Now the site was ready for the next group of campers to come in and make their own memories.

Even though you and Vinnie only spent a week and a half together it felt like you two created a lifetime worth of intimate moments and memories. He doesn’t understand how he got so attached to you in such a short amount of time, but he did. The blond boy lets out a deep sigh before turning around to go back to his site, leaving the memories you two created and flowers he brought you behind.

Vinnie lets out a big yawn as he stretches in bed. He grabs his phone and checks the time. 2:43pm. The night before the blond streamed Valorant on twitch until 4 in the morning so there was no wonder as to why he was just waking up. Deciding to stay in bed for a little longer, Vinnie cuddles into his sheets and opens TikTok, Hera joining him a little bit later.

As he scrolls he likes a few and comments on some of his friends posts. However, his incessant scrolling comes to a stop when his for you page lands on a video of Nai’s. Vinnie watches it, but as he does so a familiar face is shown causing his heart rate to increase while butterflies erupted in his stomach. Who knew that one person could still elicit these feelings out of him two years later?

There was no way. It couldn’t be you in the video. Yet there you were in Nai’s tiktok showing off your gecko. You looked the same, but so different at the same time. Vinnie couldn’t help himself, but to watch the tiktok a few more times, every time his smile getting bigger and his heart fuller.

Luckily for him Nai tagged you in the caption in which Vinnie took this opportunity to check out your profile and make sure it was actually you and his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. Right away he knew it was in fact you.

You had just under a million followers and were on the brink of getting verified. As Vinnie scrolled through your profile he finds your first tiktok that went viral and ultimately kick started your career. The video was of you eight months ago running and dancing around in the rain in the middle of the road. Vinnie smiles as he watches and he couldn’t help, but to feel flustered at the fact he finally found you after all these years.

It made him happy to see that you seemingly stayed the same personality wise. From what he remembered you loved everything about nature and animals so there was no surprise to see your account full of videos of you enjoying what you loved. In fact your most viral videos consisted of your ring neck parakeet, Athena.

Just as Vinnie was about to hit the follow button on your account a text from Alex popped up.

I was planning on throwing a chill party tonight is that okay?

He clicked and stared at the message for a few seconds. Seemingly Nai would be invited which meant if you were with her still Nai would likely bring you as her plus one.

Yea ofc.

Vinnie spent the rest of the day going through your social media accounts. He wanted to follow you on every platform possible, but he didn’t want that to creep you out so he decided it was best to wait and see if you came tonight. After all his odds were looking in his favour as the time until the get together dwindled and you and Nai continued to post with each other.

The blond walks out of his washroom freshly showered with a towel around his waist and into his large room. He could hear a bunch of voices and music coming from down stairs so the party must have already started. Just as Vinnie was about to drop his towel to get dressed a familiar voice is heard from the other side of his door.

“Knock knock!” Nai shouts.

“One sec!” Vinnie calls out quickly, throwing on boxers and a pair of black cargo pants before rummaging through his dresser for a shirt. “Come in!”

Almost instantly the door flies open revealing Nailea in all her glory. Vinnie glances over to her in hopes you were with the brunette, but his hopes fall when he see’s you’re no where to be found.

“You seriously need to stop making thirst traps in the shower we all thought you slipped and died with how long you were taking.” Nai says walking into the room and flopping onto Vinnie’s bed.

Vinnie lets out a laugh while he continued to look for a shirt he wanted to wear, his mind being clouded with thoughts of you. Nai was wearing the same outfit she was wearing in the instagram stories she posted with you today so where were you?

Just as Vinnie turns around, putting on a shirt with the intent to discretely ask Nai about you a familiar, but nostalgic voice could be heard in the hallway over Alex’s loud laugh from downstairs. “Nai?”

“In here!”

“Jeez this house is huge I need a map just to leave the washroom.” You say walking into the unfamiliar bedroom. As you do so your eyes lock with Vinnie’s and both of your heart rates increase significantly. Heat washes over you under Vinnie’s gaze and you couldn’t help, but to feel confused. He looked so familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on where you recognize him from.

Vinnie on the other hand felt as if his heart was going to beat out of his chest. Throughout the past few years he imagined scenarios where he would run into you back at home or at Lake Chelan, but finally being in your presence again caused him to not know how to act.

“Y/N this is Vinnie the friend of mine I wanted you to meet.” Nai says looking at you. “And Vinnie this is Y/N. I think you guys will click instantly especially since you’re both from Washington.”

“Nice to meet you. Can I sit?” You ask nodding over to Vinnie’s bed where Nai was sitting, petting Hera.

“Y-yea of course.” The blond stutters out causing his cheeks to go red. However, a pang of hurt rings throughout the boys heart when he realizes you don’t remember him.

Quickly you make your way over to Vinnie’s bed and without wasting another second you extend your hand out for Hera to smell before petting her. Vinnie watches as you do so. You looked even more beautiful than when he first met you two years prior, if that was even possible. Although you looked slightly different due to the fact you graciously grew into your features Vinnie could tell your personality stayed the same as you continued to gravitate towards animals.

“What’s this cuties name?” You ask scratching under Hera’s chin, causing her to purr before you smile at Vinnie.

“Her name is Hera.”

You let out a gasp, “Did you know Hera was married to Zeus?” You say, recalling your past obsession of Greek Mythology. By now Nai was zoned out of your conversation and was scrolling on tiktok.

“Yea I actually named her after a girl that I met at Lake Chelan, who’s dog was named Zeus.” Vinnie says with a toothy smile on his face.

Your eyes widen and you look back over to the blond, your heart beating a mile a minute while you finally connected the dots.

“City boy?” You breathe out.

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker angst #vinnie hacker smut #hypehouse #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker x y/n #vincent hacker #nailea devora #alex warren #tiktok #tiktok imagine #fic recs

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wishingyouback · 3 years

Text

moments like these, with you

pairing: lee felix and reader

warning(s): none

in the quiet of the night, the only thing that can be heard is shuffling of the duvet and the faint noise of your air-conditioning lowly rustling in the background.

you're fast asleep, cuddling into the side of your pillow with your back facing the spot that's always reserved for that one special person who made his way into your life, all while creating a heavenly spot in your heart that was reserved just for him.

felix was decent when it came to being quiet, however sneaking around your house at two in the morning with his shoes on, was something he wasn't quite good at no matter how many times he's done this. he finds it ironic, that someone like him who took up dancing as an extra curriculum in high school, could be as clumsy as he was despite having great balance on the dance floor.

funny how things have changed since then.

the first time felix met you, you were rather quiet. you only spoke when asked something but anything besides that, felix found that it was hard to actually get to know. he assumed you disliked him because of his group of friends, and at first that actually was the problem. but he later found out that the reason you were so quiet around him was because you never knew what to say, and he found that adorable.

thanks to your best friend , felix took matters into his own hands and started interacting with you more.

you remember thinking he was dared to talk to you in order to win something; a bet, but felix shut that thought down the second you told him.

"how do i know this isn't something minho asked you to do behind my back?"

"he can't lie even if he was paid to do it," his smirk wide enough to be seen from across the hallway, even though you two stood right next to each other with him laying against the locker next to yours.

"and you can?" you ask sarcastically, not buying his words.

"i'm even worse," his honesty caught you off guard but he doesn't say anything to address your reaction. instead he smiles brightly, making the freckles on his cheeks becoming more prominent the longer you stare at him.

three years have passed since then and here you were, asleep in your room with your boyfriend sneaking in for the fifth time this week, just to see you.

when you wake up, you don't have to second guess who's tiptoeing across your room with his shoes in his hand and his arms out as if he'd lose his balance if he let them rest at his sides.

"felix?" you rasp out, making him stop in his tracks.

"hey angel," he murmurs loud enough for you to hear. "what're you doing up?"

it was almost funny to you how felix would make it a routing almost, to visit you every night just to hug you to bed then leave before the sun would rise.

it wasn't like you two were keeping your relationship a secret, but you'd prefer to not have your parents lose their trust in you by finding out that your boyfriend of seven months, has been sneaking in and out of your room in the late hours of the night behind their back.

"i always wake up around this time," you stretch out your arms for him to take comfort in.

when felix is near you, you instantly loop your arms around his neck to pull him closer. the laugh he lets out is contagious enough to make you giggle. the two of you stay in that embrace until felix pulls back, affectionately caressing your cheekbones with the back of his hand.

"go back to sleep baby, i'll get in on my side."

"i will," you say as you turn around to face the side that's now occupied by your blond-haired lover. "just wanna be near you."

felix laughs lowly when he hears that.

"missed me that much hm?"

"you have no idea," you tease despite being half awake and felix feels his stomach do somersaults.

once he's settled in, he quietly sets his shoes down, shrugs off his jacket then easily slides his body under your covers with his arms readily open for you to be tucked in to his sides. once he lets his arms wrap around you, felix lets out a content sigh, exhaling deeply as you rest your head on the comfort of his chest, hearing his heart beat when you snuggle closer.

"what was that for?" you ask, already feeling yourself drift off to sleep.

"just letting myself relax," he tells you. he kisses the top of your head and feels your body vibrate against his, the soft sound of your laughter filling his ears.

"you're weird," you tell him. at this point, you're slowly falling asleep, and felix knows this because the hand you have resting atop of his, is starting to loosen its grip on his fingers.

"you're weirder," he knows you won't respond but he loves the little moments you have together where you just say whatever's on your mind right before you both fall asleep.

after a minute or so, your breathing becomes more even and if felix stays so very still to hold his breath, he can hear light snores coming from you.

oh how he adored you.

felix shifts carefully to pull the covers up higher so you don't feel chilly later on in the night, and even fluffs your pillow with his free hand, gently to not wake you up. once it seems that you're comfortable enough to not stir in the night, felix rests his head on yours and whispers a goodnight and sweet dreams, then sealing it with a featherlight kiss on the side of your head.

it was moments like this, that made the journeys to your house worth it.

author's note:

it's been a while since i last wrote, and posted something so i hope you enjoyed this although it's quite short 🤍

nothing like a good felix imagine to make you feel warm (i hope) as the season's change x

— you're loved, ily always

#felix imagines #lee felix imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #lee felix fluff #felix fluff #stray kids fan fictions #felix scenarios #skz fluff #stray kids

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mandalorianbrainweasel · 2 years

Note

Prompt: Post-Kashyyyk Sev and Vau interactions pls I am ready to be hurt and/or healed

It’s somewhere around one in the morning when Sev stumbles to the kitchen, leg aching. Most of it’s not even there anymore, so he wonders why it hurts so much.

He’s not really expecting anyone in the kitchen. Usually he might, but Omega and the Nulls are all are off on little missions. So he’s surprised when he notices the lights are on and he can smell cooking food. He double checks the time on his comm, but no, it’s still some combination of too late and too early.

Sergeant Vau is standing in front of the stove, prodding a pan with a wooden spoon. His other hand is flying across a datapad, taking down notes, Sev thinks.

Whatever he’s cooking is smells like warmth, something sugary, and something earthy.

Some distant part of himself tells Sev it smells like home.

Vau turns and looks over his shoulder after a moment of Sev standing there. “Gilamar said to stay off your leg,” he reminds him, voice gruff but low enough to almost be soft.

Sev sits at the kitchen table.

“Do you feel up to taking notes for me?” Vau asks, and that in and of itself is a surprise. He doesn’t ever really remember him asking Sev to do anything. Let alone giving him an out to say no.

“I think so,” Sev decides after a moment.

Vau hums and turns around, setting the datapad in front of Sev.

It’s...a recipe.

One 227 gram bag of veshok nuts. Tenth of a liter of water. 120 grams of sugar, half white and half brown. Half a gram of chili, fifth a gram of rough salt, two fifths a gram of cinnamon. More sugar to taste.

Boil the veshok nuts in the liter of water until the water reduces and the shells of the nuts begin to come off, then drain the water into another pot, keeping it on the boiler, and strip the shells off of the nuts. Add the boiled nuts back to the water along with the white sugar and stir until the sugar is melty.

Sev looks up at Vau’s cooking. This must be what he was doing, then.

“Once the white sugar has melted somewhat,” Vau dictates, making Sev jump before he starts to take the notes down, “Add in the brown sugar so it can mix with the white and create another coating over the first coat.” While he talks, he follows his own instructions. “After stirring the brown sugar into the mixture, as it begins to melt, quickly add the chili and cinnamon. Take the pan off the heat and continuing stirring until all of the nuts are fully coated. Then—.” He cuts himself off with a scoff, leaving the pan a moment to find a plate. “Then you need a plate,” he tells Sev with more humour, less of a dictation tone. “Get all of the nuts out onto the plate and sprinkle the salt on top as they’re cooling, then roll them to coat them in the salt.” For a moment, Sev thinks his eyes twinkle. “Jang—ah, Jango liked to add more chili and sugar with the salt in the outer coating.”

Sev types it all out, still watching Vau, who sets the plate of finished off nuts next to him, exchanging it for the datapad.

“Thank you,” he says, and it might be another first. “I was having trouble getting it down while doing it, and I have trouble remembering if I’m not doing it.”

Sev blinks at him, then looks at the nuts.

“You can try them, you know,” Vau says dryly. “The person the recipe is for isn’t going to suddenly arrive from Keldabe City to eat them.”

Cautiously, Sev picks one up and pops it in his mouth. It tastes good. He could probably eat the whole plate.

Vau sighs, taking one for himself.

“You made these for Prime a lot?” Sev asks, his voice coming out hoarse.

“Ah, yes,” Vau says, looking away from him. “When he was younger.”

Sev hadn’t even known Vau knew Prime when he was younger. “How did you know him?” he asks.

Immediately he realizes he’s karked up with the way Vau’s face goes hard and cold. At first he even thinks Vau isn’t going to answer. “I was his guardian for a while,” is eventually said, dropping to the table like ice cubes.

“Oh.” Sev looks back at the nuts. He thinks that, maybe, Vau loved him, to make this kind of stuff for him.

Vau must notice him looking. Still, he’s not expecting what he says next. “I’ll make them for you and your brothers whenever you want,” he says, and again it’s said so low that it’s almost soft.

Sev looks up at him, but he’s still not looking at him.

Oh, he thinks.

“I’d like that,” he admits, just as low, just as almost-soft.

#my fanfiction #prompt fill #from a prompt #walon vau #delta squad sev #past jaster/walon #they're alike in all the good ways

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mindninjax · 3 years

Text

Heat of the Moment

Pairing: Tobio Kageyama x Reader (College AU)

Rating: Explicit (18+ minors do not interact)

Warnings: virgin!Kageyama, sex, virgin sex, nipple play, condom sex, Y'all it's pretty tame ok. It's wholesome sex

Word Count: 2.6K

a/n: HERE IT IS CEE! @spacelabrathor I PROMISED YOU A KAGS FIC AND IT'S HERE. Here he is in all his cute, dumb, awkward, blunt (but still a fucking prodigy at everything he does) glory! ALSO FOR YOU some Atsumu slander bahahah. (No one come for me I love Atsumu but like... come on, mans is a little asshole) ANYWHOO This is supposed to serve as a little continuation to my first Kags fic So I hope you enjoy! Also s/o to my love @dymphnasprose for always dropping sweet yummy Tobio thirsts in my DMs and making me absolutely feral for this man. I love you forever baybeeee

“I want to have sex.”

He’s decided, made up his mind, the decision is final, no more going back and forth. Steely blue eyes gauge your very surprised expression as you lay on your belly on his bed, feet kicking the air as you read a book. Your eyes widen in surprise as you take in your boyfriend’s expression.

“What?” you ask, chuckling and pulling yourself up to sit and give him your full attention.

“I want to have sex with you.” He repeats it, confident and reassured that it is exactly what he wants as he looks into your eyes. When you raise a questioning brow, he stomps over to the bed to sit beside you and place a hand on the small of your back.

“Tobio, is this about what Atsumu said last week?”

You know how much Atsumu is able to get under his skin. He teases him constantly about being a virgin after Tobio accidently and drunkenly let it slip that he hadn’t done anything with you other than heavy petting and heated make out sessions. Atsumu has teased him since then, making jokes about one day stealing you from him so you could be with someone with experience. As if you’d leave Tobio for Atsumu. Yeah right.

“You know I’d never leave you for him, right?” you say looking into his eyes with a worried expression. His cobalt eyes gleam back at you, getting momentarily lost in your beauty before he scowls again.

“It has nothing to do with that piss-haired loser!” he says defensively. He knows you wouldn’t leave him, especially not for Atsumu, but he can admit—only to himself—something else Atsumu said is what helped him make his decision.

There’s nothing better than seeing a woman come undone around you. You look at her face and see her pleasure and know it’s all because of you and you feel invincible.

Tobio swallows hard when he pictures for the fifth time tonight your face twisted in pleasure. You gasping and moaning his name like the woman in the porn he watched for reference last night. His hand moves to rub your back seductively and his expression softens.

He really does love you, you’ve put up with so many of his mood swings, supported him at every game, even helped him with homework is some of his toughest classes.

“I just want to be able to make you feel good. I know you’ve had sex with other guys before me, but I wanna be the one who made you feel the best.”

You crawl into his lap, straddling his muscular thighs and draping your arms around his neck to plop a kiss onto his surprised lips. The tiny lounge shorts dig into your thigh as you look at him through your lashes and he digs his fingers into your plump ass. He intakes a breath when you grind on the bulge in his pants and his eyes grow wide.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” you say, a sultry smile working it’s way onto your face. “But I won't say no to you trying.”

You kiss him, grasping his silky jet black locks and plunging your tongue into his mouth. Both his large hands grasp your ass as you grind down harder on the growing bulge in his pants.

Tobio always gets a boner when the two of you make out, but to feel how warm you are and how close your pussy is to his dick, it makes him grunt into your mouth. He leans back on the bed, flopping onto his back as he holds your waist and balances you atop of him.

You continue kissing him, purring and humming against his lips, and when you pull back to look him in the eye, a string of spit keeps the two of you connected. He looks at you in earnest, biting his lip and trying to focus on your pretty face instead of the ache in his shorts.

“Ok so should I fuck you now? Why are our clothes still on?” He asks with complete seriousness and you snort. Your world shines brighter due to his absolute lack of tact, and he frowns when he thinks you’re making fun of him.

“What?” he grumbles.

“That’s something Atsumu won’t tell you, probably because he sucks at it. There’s a beautiful thing called foreplay and you’re going to learn it,” you say as you smile against his lips and run your hand down his chest.

“From a woman no less, which means…you’ll already be ahead of the game.” You grind your hips down upon him again and he’s too late to stop the groan that tumbles from his pink lips.

You smirk then roll to the side to move off of him and he rises up in shock, eyes wide and worried. But he holds his breath when he sees you standing and removing your shirt and shorts before you look over your shoulder at him.

“Well, I can’t be the only one undressed.”

Tobio quickly sheds his shirt and shorts, sitting clad only in his tight compression underwear on the bed. He stares at your bra and underwear, eyes drinking in every deep curve, the swell of your breast, and how the thin twine of the straps of your thong sit on your hips.

His fingers fist into the sheets of the bed and his cock twitches at the mere sight of you. He can’t remember how he got so lucky but he smiles smugly to himself when he pictures the surprised look on Atsumu’s face when he finds out.

You tiptoe over to him sitting on the edge of the bed and push his thighs apart to stand between them. He wraps an arm around your waist and cranes his neck to look up at you. You run a hand through his hair, pushing it from his forehead. His long fingers trace down the curve of your back and you sigh at his touch. He places his forehead against your stomach and closes his eyes.

“Your skin is so soft. I want to kiss it,” he mumbles. You chuckle as you continue rubbing his hair.

“So why don’t you?” He opens his eyes and obliges, placing his lips against your stomach. You sigh again as he kisses down your stomach and stops at the hem of your underwear. His hands are on your hips now, digging into your skin and fiddling with the straps of your panties. He’s so eager, the excitement he usually saves for the volleyball court oozing out of him as his piercing gaze asks you for permission.

You give a curt nod and he loops his long fingers through the skimpy string of your panties and slowly pulls them down your legs. When you’ve stepped out of them and he’s face to face with your pussy, he gasps in amazement. He takes a few moments to look over you, his hands running up your thigh before he continues his path of kisses from your stomach down to your clit. He stops suddenly when you whimper and his eyes are wide with panic.

“Sorry, is that bad?” he asks in a small voice. You don’t realize your eyes are closed until you open them to see his eyes panic stricken expression. You rub his hair gently and give him a reassuring smile.

“Nope, it’s actually really really good. Aren’t I the lucky one to get a guy who doesn’t have to be told to kiss my pussy,” you say laughing. Tobio smiles up at you as well, now more calm by your relaxing tone.

“Can’t help it when it’s that pretty.”

He pulls you down on top of him and you squeal as you straddle his waist. He lays on his back, massaging your hips as you mount him. You reach behind your back to unhook your bra and his eyes grow even wider as your tits fall. You always knew Tobio was a boob guy, but the way he’s looking at you now, mouth slightly agape as he licks his lips, definitely cements that fact.

His cock twitches in his underwear and you give him a quick kiss before shimmying down his body to free him from his cotton prison. You’ve never seen Tobio naked before. You’ve felt his impressive length through his pants when you two have fooled around and fantasized about how pretty it would be when you finally witnessed it but like always with Tobio, it's better than you expected.

He’s not too long but he’s quite thick. He's already dripping precum and it leaks onto his belly when it pops free; the tip is a beautiful plush pink that matches the flush of his skin when he sees you staring hungirly at it.

When you bring it to your lips and lick the tip, he groans loudly and clutches the sheets on the bed tightly. “Wait…I almost…” he grunts through his teeth. You look up at him apologetically. A blowjob probably isn’t the best idea for his first time, but you definitely make a mental note to suck him off some time soon. The man’s cock is way too pretty not to be in your mouth.

“Sorry,” you say before moving back up his body to kiss him passionately. He grunts into your mouth as you bite his lips. His hands tangle in your hair and he ruts against your ass in anticipation. When he moves to bite your neck you moan and whisper his name.

“S’okay. I wanna...suck…” he grunts, pawing at your breast as he nibbles and licks your neck. He sounds like he’s asking permission and you breathe out a quick, “yes” before rising up to sit on his lap.

You can feel his heart speed up, thrumming underneath you as he raises and pulls your body flush to his. You feel his long lashes flutter against your chest before he latches to your nipple and groans deeply. You’re not sure how he knows exactly what to do but your pussy grows wetter with every flick of his tongue on your skin.

“Mmm Tobio, you’re so good at that,” you moan and you can tell he likes the praise. He flexes his hips up into you, grinding against your ass and you moan again desperately as blood pumps straight to your cunt.

Tobio continues licking and sucking your nipples, moving from each one to give them equal amounts of attention, but when he bites down and sucks like he’s pulling something from you, you throw your head back in bliss, a loud shrill whimper bursting from you.

You’re ready now, your body vibrating with anticipation. You push him to flop on his back again, lean over to open the desk drawer, and grab a condom. You quickly rip it open with your teeth, pull it out in one quick motion and roll it slowly down his length.

He watches in amazement, you’re a pro at this. How on earth were you able to make opening a condom that sexy? You lock eyes with him now as you hover above his dick and his chest heaves up and down. He thinks once again about how lucky he is, how gorgeous you are, and how much he can’t wait to see your face when you’re coming on top of him.

“Don’t be nervous baby,” you purr as you line the tip up with your pussy. Even through the condom he can feel how warm you are, and he has to take deep breaths and focus on not finishing too early.

“Don’t you wanna make me feel good?”

He grits his teeth as you sink slowly down onto him. You spread around his length and he watches in awe as you take him. You both cry out when you’ve sunk all the way down on top of him and your walls are fluttering as you become accustomed to him.

Tobio’s eyes are squeezed shut, he’s panting trying desperately not to think about how fucking warm and tight you are. He can feel you clenching, feel you caress his cock and he can’t imagine how good it would feel if the condom weren’t between you two. His hands are digging into your hips, leaving marks as he concentrates on holding in the cum he wants to shoot into you.

“Shit…is it always like this?” He grunts as he looks up at the ceiling.

You chuckle as you run your hands up your body, massaging your own tits and pinching your nipples. You lean down to whisper in his ear.

“No, it’s even better without a condom,” you smirk and he gasps at the thought. You lift your hips then, placing your palms on his broad chest and balancing yourself to hover over the tip before plunging down onto him again.

You continue rocking your hips and bouncing on him and he swears he can see stars. He grunts and moans, gasping as you draw circles with your hips on his cock. He remembers how good you are at dancing and isn’t surprised at how well you ride him.

“Fuck...shit this feels so good,” he groans and momentarily open his eyes to watch your lovely face. Your eyes are lidded and you’re biting your lips in concentration, a seductive smile playing on the edge of your lips.

“You’re doing so well baby,” you coo. You’re impressed, he’s lasted far longer than you thought he would, but then again Tobio’s always had great stamina.

Your ass slaps against him, bobbing like the first time he saw you twerking and it only makes him buck up into you more. Your tits are bouncing as the room fills with the sultry sound of slapping skin. He bites his lip as he feels his insides tighten, a pressure building in him as your pace quickens.

Your moans are loud, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure and when you whimper his name, it feels like he’s on the court. His instincts kick in and he flips you on your back. He pulls your body close to his and looks into your eyes before he plunges into you.

The new position allows him to hit an angle no guy you’ve been with has ever been able to hit and you cry out in ecstasy. He pumps into you desperately, kissing you and watching as your eyes start to roll to the back of your head. He feels so good inside you and he’s so close his arms and legs are starting to shake.

He watches as you bite your lip, scream his name and clench so hard around him he doesn’t have to be a pro to know you’ve just come. He smiles a cocky smile to himself before a guttural growl breaks from him and he spills a thick load of cum into the condom. So Atsumu was right about that. There’s nothing better than seeing you scream his name and watch you come undone because of him.

He stays embedded in you for a few minutes as both of you twitch and come down from your high. His head rests in your neck and when he’s finally caught his breath he flashes you a cocky smirk. You giggle and roll your eyes, not needing to hear him say anything.

“How the fuck did you do that?” you ask as he pulls out of you and removes the condom.

“I don’t know, my body moved on it’s own I guess,” he shrugs as you take the condom from him, tie the end and dispose of it. You kiss him on the lips and shake your head with a smile.

“Should’ve known you’d be a goddamn prodigy at it.”

Tobio pulls you back into his arms to hold you and bask in the after sex glow. He’d finally done it and he’d managed to get you to come too. A prodigy you’d called him. This was definitely something he’d “accidentally” share with Atsumu next time.

Thanks for reading!

#kageyama x reader #tobio kageyama #haikyuu x reader #Kageyama tobio #marquie writes #I'll make a banner for this later i swear

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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

Text

meet clay, he knows how you'll die.

intro filler chapter sorry

☾ pairing: dream x reader

☾ cw: interact at your own risk; contains graphic depictions of various character death and violence, suicide, blood, gore, and other triggering material. angst, language, guns, adult content, mentions of sex, slow burn friends to lovers

☾ wc: ~4100

Clay pulled the strap of his backpack further on his shoulder as he wove through the mindless sea of college students, eyes scanning the crowd for you, his best friend and the only person he could stand at the early hour. His knuckles flashed white as he sighed, taking the blunt impact of someone walking into him. He removed one of his headphones, mumbling a quick apology and swatting off the enthusiastically apologetic sophomore girl. All he could focus on was how much she bit her lip as she stammered on about not seeing him. It wasn’t alluring to him when most girls tried to sway his affections by looking at him with a puppy dog expression; all his mind drifted to was the dead skin across the body of her lower lip.

He finally nodded and reinstated his headphone, turning on his heel and heading for the front of the building. He received a few greetings from his peers as they crossed his path, people who shared past lectures with him and who had cheated off of him during exams. He wasn’t popular by any means, but he stayed out of people’s business and didn’t express his opinions loudly, so people tended to like him. The autumn breeze picked up as he stood in the dwellings of political science majors on the front lawn, acting as if they hadn’t seen one another in years when it had been only a few days. Clay absent-mindedly looked down at his cellphone, flipping through music as he leaned against the cool brick of the hall’s facade, waiting for you to find him.

Clay’s usual brooding manner was often off-putting to outsiders, with the careless-hollow look in his eyes giving bystanders the impression that he was nothing but a machiavellian. But you always saw the brightness in him; the side that you always experienced was specifically for you, and he made sure to keep it that way. You had wedged herself into his life and he was ever grateful for the love you had given him.

Despite the understood truth between the two of you that nothing was to be left unsaid, Clay still found himself keeping one of the most important aspects of his character unknown to you. His bloodcurdling secret was his own curse, something that would only be poison for another soul to know.

“What’s up, stud?” Somehow a flush of relief rippled through Clay’s body as his eyes locked to yours, pulling him from his isolated shell. Your hair looked brighter today against the dark hoodie peeking out from beneath an all too familiar bomber jacket. The wind fluffed your locks slightly as you continued towards him.

His eyebrows perked up as if to signal he was attempting to downplay his excited demeanor. “Stud, huh?” You smirked at his response, taking one of his headphones and putting it in your own ear, her face angled up to Clay as you waited to recognize the song, swaying slightly.

He chuckled as you shrunk away from him after muttering the song’s artist disappointedly and rolling your eyes, pulling on his hoodie pocket to follow you. As chaotic as his life often felt, he could always rely on the consistency of you. You usually attached yourself to one of his backpack straps, handles, his belt loop, or ended up under his arm, wedged against his side. It had gotten to the point that he felt naked if you weren’t within arm’s length of him, which was rare for the two of you. “So, I have something for you.” He smugly looked down at you, green eyes masking a hidden sparkle as you handed him a can of root beer, making him chuckle.

“Aren’t you sweet?” He popped the tab, taking a sip as you waved at a group of girls passing the two of you before slipping your hand against the crook of his elbow where his hoodie sleeves were pushed back.

“Actually, I was hoping it could be payment for later. I need to head over to the cemetery for some rubbings. History 270 has me getting into some weird shit, huh?” He laughed again at you, offering you the drink.

“And you need wheels?” You nodded and smiled politely at him, beaming at his words. “Yeah, alright. I have to sketch something for art anyway.” He thought about the week’s assignment and then about your little project he had dealt with the prior year. You had acted like the two of you hadn’t been to the cemetery on a regular basis, but he was grateful that you wanted him to come along with you.

You quietly jumped once. “You are my hero in faded denim, Clay. You know that, right?”

The two of you parted ways to your select destinations, one of Clay’s least favorite parts of the day, which was only solidified as he sunk into his seat and attempted to look equipped for the lecture. He spotted an unfamiliar kid shaking his knee in a distant section of the classroom. In any other circumstance, he wouldn’t have thought twice, but the sie of the class had given him the pleasantries of getting his own personal curse out of the way on the first day.

He carefully watched the boy speak smugly to a few of the more athletic kids in the room. One of the athletes pointed to the general direction Clay was sitting in and they all moved towards him. He, yet again, took out his headphones, knowing full well that they would be talking to him for the rest of the class.

“Oi, Shaman,” one of the main guys greeted Clay like they always did: a strange pattern of slapping and shaking his hand. He was thankful he had gotten all of their first impressions months prior and didn’t have to worry about getting their scenarios again, but he geared up to meet the new kid.

“How are you, Punz?” Clay took a deep breath as the new kid was gestured to and brought into the light.

“This is Mark. He’s a transfer from one of the commuter campuses. Mark, this is the mastermind you pay for notes.”

Clay sarcastically smiled at Punz. “My, you flatter me more than any girl. Nice to meet you, man.” As soon as he touched Mark’s hand, Clay’s mind flashed to a dingy-looking barn out in the middle of nowhere before an older man in his mid-thirties came into view with a lever-action rifle in his hand. In another flash, Clay was in front of the man, now kneeling with the gun in his mouth, red, blurry eyes looking straight through Clay. A pang of guilt broke open in Clay’s stomach as he pushed against the handguard lever and pulled it back into place, squeezing the trigger and sending Ckay back to the class. He let out a sigh and fought to plaster one of his less absent smiles.

“Speaking of our lovely girls, Mark here has a question about her.” Clay’s head tilted towards Mark, not exactly squaring up to him, but sending him an amused look as if to warn him not to cross a line, knowing full-well this conversation would somehow involve you. “We all know that no guy would ever intrude on her without your blessing, but Mark sat near her on the bus before his first class and was thinking about asking her out.”

Clay bit back a laugh, feeling like the Vito Corleone. “Well, you know her, Punz, and you know she would be mortified if I told some guy to fuck off, so I would just ask her yourself?” Oh, how desperately Clay wanted to bash Mark for not even telling Clay himself and the fact that the boy before him was nowhere near your type, but Clay knew better than to burn bridges and he felt bad for the way Mark would meet his end.

Nobody, not even you, knew about Clay’s gift. In the going-on-five years of knowing you, he came breaths away from letting his secret slip but has always kept it hidden, hoping to bury it with him after being married to you for forty happy years.

The visions started around his fifth-grade year, beginning with vivid dreams of dying in the midst of the Civil War, feeling the warm gushing of blood leaving his system, and the stabbing pain of being shot multiple times beside a woman who oddly looked enough like you that he almost called out your name. He had lived what he presumed to be his death in the life before this one several times, each vision taking him a few clicks further.

Soon, he found himself catching glimpses of others’ deaths before they happened as soon as they touched him, but thankfully it was usually over with no time passing and he only endured the visions once for each person, fate having already sealed itself. The only person who seemed to mix him up was you.

It was love at first sight for him, but as soon as you touched his arm, bleak snapshots of a boating accident raced into his mind, only to have to re-experience the scenario a few months later with you stepping in front of a train. Even as a measly high school freshman, he promised himself that there was no way he was letting you die in the gruesome manners being predicted to you. He didn’t think changing fate was possible until he witnessed you in action. He hated seeing you so young in each of the glimpses, tearing him to shreds as he knew time and time again that there was no way he could change what was meant to be.

There were even times when he quietly promised you that he’d die by your side if he couldn’t stop it.

As his lecture let out, Clay found you tucked into a corner of the library, smiling to yourself silently as knew you had finally found what you were looking for in one of the massive books before you. There were many moments like this that Clay wished he could pause and remember for the rest of his life. He was proud that you were there for him even though you could have left instead of playing your own little game of library scavenger hunts.

Since knowing you, he had taken note of how you treated other boys, usually as first dates and never true pick-ups. You didn’t care if they called you the next day or not and he was sure you had never even been kissed before. Something about your guys’ relationship gave others the nod to leave it the fuck alone, and that your heart truly belonged to Clay; a responsibility he wished didn’t plague you with. Despite this, he couldn’t bring himself to be with you, only worried that what you had would be destroyed because he knew that as soon as he told you about his gift, you might leave.

You always brought a bag of marbles and a bouquet of flowers to the cemetery. You loved to find the tombstones that looked neglected or ones with older dates, knowing that the possibility of having family members who remembered the person was lower. The trees in the graveyard were reds and yellows with the changing season, leaves scattered over the grass, naturally piling in large masses. This was your favorite for how neglected it seemed to always be. You had a knack for making inanimate objects and lost souls feel loved; Clay often feeling like he was one of these disembodied figures.

Clay leaned his back against one of the massive trees a few paces from the tombstone you had picked, smiling as he watched you carry out her routine. He flipped to a clean page in his sketchbook as you sat cross-legged in front of the great stone resting place, pulling the long-dead flowers from the concrete gauntlet and replenishing a few flowers in their place while setting an equal number of marbles along the grass line of the stone. A daisy was tucked behind your ear as you ran her fingers against the worn chiseling of the dates, smiling slightly. He began to sketch you out. Your eyes drifted to him before the corners of your mouth curled up into a smirk and you returned to her previous position, straightening your shoulders. “Who is it?” He asked, blending a rough edge with the pads of his finger as you tilted your head at the script carvings.

“George McAfee. Born 1926. Died 1963.” The wind picked up, blowing your hair away from your face as you pulled your jacket closer around you. “What was happening in 1963?” You turned your head to him momentarily before looking back at the lucky man. “I mean besides Beatlemania and JFK’s assassination?”

Clay outstretched one of his legs, swallowing as he thought, his eyes fluttering from the page in front of him to you. “Well, Alcatraz was shut down, Studebaker stopped production, the USSR sent the first woman into space…” he trailed off, watching you as the gears began to spin in your head.

“Do you think he died in the Coliseum explosion?” You wet your lips and he couldn’t help but smile at you.

“Maybe he died in the USS Thresher sinking?” He was thankful that he could capture your thoughtful gaze in this picture.

“You’re smart, Dream. Have I ever told you that?” He chuckled at the sigh in your voice. He detailed the bomber jacket you were wearing---which you’d stolen from his closet god knows when---a bit as you placed a piece of paper over the engraving and rubbed a crayon against the stone, his name coming to life on the paper as you came to life on Clay’s. It didn’t matter why you two would be in the cemetery, you always had a type of bond with the dead, surprising Clay due to how bright you were and your power of holding onto so much compassion. He threw his sketchbook into his backpack and slug in over his shoulder, moving to help you up. You decided to give the rest of the flowers to George as Clay stood next to you, gazing down at his grave.

A high-pitched moan startled the two of you, snapping your heads to look over the hedges separating your section of graves and the one beside it. Clay’s eyes widened as they fell to a girl in all black with porcelain skin propped on top of one of the tombstones. You clasped your hand over his mouth pulling him onto the ground next to you as you peered through a hole in the bushes. His mind noticed your arms first. One of them was secured over his chest and the other wrapped around his shoulder from beneath his arm, holding onto him as he steadied himself in the weird crouching position. “Are you enjoying this?” He jeered, looking over his shoulder slightly as he heard you snicker. The girl began to ride the stone harder.

“How many times in your life are you going to see a girl humping a gravestone? Honestly, Clay, how many?” He shook his head as you both looked at the girl, giggling to yourselves. You dug her face into his shoulder trying to stifle the next laugh trying to rip through your body as the gothic girl moaned, letting out more labored breaths. Clay’s face contorted into a twisted look of disgust as the girl tugged on her own hair. “Oh, do you think that hurts?” You took the words out of his mouth, tightening your arms around him as he shrugged.

“I doubt it’s any rockier than sex with a human.” He bit his lip, a hollow sound interrupting him quietly laughing at his own joke as you thumped him in the chest. The girl moaned louder. “Alright, she’s climaxing. I’m uncomfortable now.” Clay stood and Willow popped up next to him, lacing your fingers with his, bringing color back to his cheeks as you slipped the remaining marbles into his pocket.

“Oh, hi!” In the midst of holding hands with you again and trying to slink back to his car, he hadn’t even realized that the moaning had stopped. The girl now stood near the two of you in what seemed to be a black slip. Clay found it hard to make direct eye contact with her. “Are you guys looking for someone?”

“We were, but we couldn’t find him so-” you began, gesturing for Clay’s car and pulling him next to you.

“Well, I can help. Who are you looking for?” A thousand sarcastically vulgar comments ran through Clay’shead but his eyes flickered from her face to the tombstone she was on previously.

“Uh, my grandpa. His name was Rupert Daniels,” Clay managed to choke out. Your nails dug into his arm while your hand squeezed his. The girl looked around at the surrounding stones.

“I don’t see him right now, but I can look?” You both shook your heads quickly and muttered various responses before finally slipping away from her and getting into his car. Neither of you said anything as you pulled off the gravel driveway until crossing the railroad tracks when Clay burst out laughing.

“Do you think she even knew who it was she was gettin’ it on with or did she just pick somewhere random?” Clay laughed harder at your stunned response. “I’m serious. Clay, what the fuck. How can someone even get off in a cemetery?”

“I don’t know, man. Would you hook up with someone in a cemetery?” Clay quipped, wiggling his eyebrows at you, causing you to laugh. You dug into his console, pulling out a bag of M&Ms you had stashed in there last week, popping one in your mouth.

“Only if it was you.”

He giggled. “Excuse me, what?”

“There are just some things you do with certain people, Dream. You know what I mean.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered I’m the only one you would have sex with in a cemetery, or like, disgusted?” You laughed at his reaction.

Within ten minutes the sun had begun to set and Clay sang loudly with you to the song playing over the radio as Clay sped along one of the county roads near your apartment complex, not wanting the night to end. He loved these moments with you. You turned down the radio and threw your hair back into a ponytail. “So, what do you think of that new kid, Mark?” Something in Clay shifted, taking away the free feeling he had recently possessed next to you. He thought carefully.

He chewed his bottom lip. “Depends on what you think?”

“Well, he seems like a wannabe Punz. And he asked me out. Naturally, I said ‘yes’ because maybe he’s different?” Clay chuckled at your sarcasm, putting his car in park on the side of the street your flat was on and getting out with you. The radio still hummed in the air lowly. “He insisted on Friday, though.” Clay dramatically acted like you had stabbed him in the heart, even though it did hurt. Friday night was their night. It had been a running tradition for movie night every Friday since your freshman year and you had never canceled on Clay for a date. “I know, I know. But I figured that I’d tell him I had diarrhea when it hit eight o’clock and be over at your place with an extra pizza? Your roommate’s working right?” He chuckled with a nod, walking you up the first three steps to your place as you made it to the concrete landing. You turned to him. “And he said he was taking me somewhere fancy, so I’ll snag you some breadsticks.” He tilted his head at you as you winked at him.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Wanna be Punz might be fun. Maybe I’ll call up Minx and hang out with her?” He joked. Minx was a friend of yours that hung out with the two of you sometimes. He had never really liked her, but she was friends with you and thus he was always civil.

“You’re still my number one, babe.” You pushed him slightly as you climbed a few more steps, leaning on the railing as he waved to leave. “Hey, Dream?” He turned on his heel as you forced yourself to make eye contact. He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “You could kiss me, you know? For science.” You smiled softly at him from where you were perched. He wet his lips as his heart hammered in his chest. He wanted to scale the steps and close the space between you, to knock you off your feet and show you just how much he was in love with you.

He hated himself. “A first kiss should have more magic in it than just for science. As a romantic, you should know first hand.” You smiled at the ground in front of you.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” The two of you seemed to shake off the serious moment as you stuck your tongue out at him and slipped inside your house as both giggled.

“I love you,” he murmured as you left, punching himself in the shoulder as he got back into his car.

Clay’s heartbeat pulsed in his ears, making him truly believe he was going to pass out. He had lost his gun at least a mile back. He was running mindlessly now, not knowing how long or where he was going. He trudged through the forest, hearing dogs barking and gunshots erupting around him, the ringing in his ears building with every step he forced himself to make. He wanted to rip open the front of his jacket to release the body heat drenching his collar, but he didn’t move other than propelling his body further and further away from the soldiers. You ran beside him, holding your skirt up while your hair danced around your shoulders like a great waterfall. As soon as his body felt like it might just give out, he would look at you and somehow find more of a drive to pull forward. His breaths were brittle and hoarse as he drew in borrowed oxygen. His lungs felt shallow like they were giving out on him.

You reached back, grasping his hand and pulling him into a sharp corner, hoping to lose the group. You both had managed to weave into the forest, but the dogs were somehow still picking up on your scent. The pair of you finally came upon a clearing and kneeled down out of sight, spotting a house in the middle of a glen. Bullets were streaming through the air. The forest was catching fire and cannons were echoing through the distant air. You squeezed his hand tightly, looking at him with terror in your eyes. He had gotten the two of you into this mess, but he was glad he was beside you.

He pulled you to your feet as the pair of you sprinted for a distant house. A sharp pain stabbed into Clay’s back, making him drop to the ground. How did he not hear the gun? You dropped to your feet, your eyes welling with tears, ripping at his jacket, but he pushed you off, telling you to leave quickly. He leaned forward, eyes locking on the soldiers in gray coming towards them, reloading their rifles. He groaned, pushing himself up, but only having the same stabbing sensation two more times in his chest. He heard you scream, but he couldn’t see you.

His hands were going numb as he touched where the bullets entered, feeling the warm and sticky crimson substance seep between his fingers. The soldiers reached you before you had made it to the house, pulling you to the ground next to him. You were crying heavily as you looked at him. Everything began to run quiet as you held onto him tightly. You were saying something to him, but he couldn’t hear you. He was only aware of his jacket soaking with blood. He coughed, wanting to tell you he loved you one last time, but you were tugged away from him, pressed to one of the men in gray. He raised a hand to you as you fought against the man. And then everything went dark.

Dream Tag List: (hopefully this works)

@karlkitten @pluto-dizzz @more-like-reyna @honk-izzie-was-taken @marrymetheonott @froggyy06 @ghoulandghost @savingpluto @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake @unstableye @tinyegg @behzzyboo @twist3dtinkerbell @sparkletash @shroomieissmall @clubfairy @camerondiaz48104 @victory-is-here @rat-poisin @alm334 @acidluvs @pachowpachowbucket @bbigbbrainn @cdizzlevalntyne @idiotinnit @generallysleepdeprived @sacvf @phsychopathetic @froggerrrr @robinslie @essencee @jemalovesmarvel @sbi-is-my-onlysanity @jenlouvre @victoria-a567 @miilliiie @bunnylotl @thegirlwhowritesawksh-t @carlyferrell @dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @nyxieahh @quivvyintheclouds @sarcasticmichelle @book-of-anarchy @millavalntyne @lightdreamy @baddiesforcorpse @sunnynapp @fantasy-innit @rat-poisin @wreny24 @deepestofwaters @exenestea @indecisivehusky @fallxnly @alm334 @skaratjung @punzcanrailme @sap-naps @denki-exe @angeltears18 @silvemistxe33 @andreamalik6 @kris-stuff @sun-fiower-seed @where-thesundoesntshine @dilfdream @esmegregory04 @itsparasocial @mlqcool @mcgoddess404 @rinatdawn @chaoscait @peppermintkisses @libbynotfound @speedrunningtherapy @lunxramour @aoonai @loraleiix @ghoulpixiie

#dream x you #dream x fem!reader #dream x y/n #dream imagine #dream x reader #mcyt au #mcyt x reader #cw gore #cw language #tw violence #tw death #tw angst #tw gore #tw suicide #tw blood

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the-dream-team · 3 years

Note

hi dylan! i've seen you around a lot but never interacted with your posts before (a tragic error) so i wanted to remedy that by saying that 'July' was very beautiful and utterly perfect!

P.S. I've heard some mumblings about Shirtless James May 👀👀 here is my formal request for you to participate 😂

Oh my gosh, hi! I’ve definitely seen your username around, so it’s lovely to finally say hello :) That’s so sweet, I’m glad you liked July- it was very fun to write! And you know what else was fun to write? This ridiculous one shot for Shirtless JP May, dedicated you, @sunshine-marauders <3

Three Times Lily Evans Did NOT Want to See James Potter Shirtless and One Time She Most Certainly Did

***

“Mr. Potter, please put your trousers back on, my boy!”

“Sir, I would, but there’s just no way of telling if this potion might be poisonous, and I’d rather play it safe.”

Lily’s eyes narrowed as she shrugged off her own robes, now covered head to toe in acidic slime from the Dungbomb that had just exploded in her and Sev’s cauldron. The purple liquid smelled something foul, but there was nothing poisonous about what was once a perfectly brewed Sleeping Draught. James Potter knew that, but he’d stripped down to his pants regardless.

“Really, Professor Slughorn, I don’t mind,” Potter continued while he sauntered back to his own workstation, bare chest puffed out as though he wasn’t practically nude in the middle of the damn classroom. His display garnered a collection of giggles from around the dungeons and a wolf whistle from Remus. “And who am I to deny my fellow third years of this view?”

Lily scoffed. She couldn’t speak for her classmates, but she knew her own view consisted of scrawny limbs, knobbly knees, and the most insufferable smirk known to wizardkind. And when he turned to her with fingers running through his hair and an infuriatingly pointed look in her direction, Lily balled her hands into fists, nails digging into her palms to keep herself from reaching out to smack that stupid grin and those lopsided glasses clean off his face.

***

“There’d better be a good explanation for this, Potter.”

“It kills me, Evans, because there is an excellent explanation for our current predicament- one that I think you’d find admirable and impressive- but unfortunately we’re sworn to secrecy, so you’ll just have to assign us detentions and continue on with your rounds for the night.”

Lily turned, exasperated, to Remus, whose Prefect’s badge looked awfully heavy on his robes that night. He didn’t meet her eye, instead focusing on his three naked friends standing before them in the middle of the first floor corridor. Well, mostly naked. Each of the fifth year Gryffindor boys held strategically placed Shrivelfig leaves to cover their most intimate areas, but only Peter looked as though that protection was a matter of life or death. Sirius stood as casually as he always did, completely unphased to find himself caught clothesless in the middle of the night, and James somehow looked more confident than usual (if that was even possible) with his chest on full display. He seemed to be strategically flexing every Quidditch-trained muscle as he grinned down at her with that pointed look she’d become far too familiar with. She spent every last drop of concentration keeping her eyes locked on James’ face to avoid any potential… drifting.

“Did you have any luck?” said Remus after a moment. Lily whipped around in shocked betrayal. He couldn’t possibly approve of this behaviour?

“Not this time,” Sirius responded, “but I got bloody close. Don’t think having clothes makes a difference, but it was worth trying.”

“I’d say we should be on track to making it work before the end of the month,” added James, his crooked grin turning into a proper smile.

Remus’ eyes sparkled. “Holy shit, that’s brilliant.”

Lily let out a frustrated grunt before turning on her heel to storm away from the disrobed boys and her fellow Prefect, upset that Remus wouldn’t take their duties seriously, but thankful to be out of sight from James’ sharp gaze, finally able to let the blush she’d been desperately fighting back escape across her cheeks.

***

“I’m sorry, Evans, but I don’t make the rules. You’ve got to lose an article of clothing or else you’ll have to forfeit.”

“That’s bollocks, Black, you literally came up with the idea for Strip Exploding Snap this evening.”

The sixth years were circled up around the Common Room’s fireplace, loose socks and sweaters littering the floor, a half-empty bottle of stolen Firewhisky passing around from hand to hand. If it weren’t for Mary’s ridiculous crush on Sirius, Lily would never have found herself anywhere near this kind of event, but she’d decided to be a good friend, and now she was down to an undershirt and knickers. It was unclear whether her face burned red from the whiskey or the nerves.

“Look, Evans,” Sirius continued with an air of indifference, “if you’re not going to participate, you can just put your cards back in the pile-”

“I’ll do it for her!” James nearly shouted as he jumped up from his seat, swaying slightly. His eyes as glossy as the crooked glasses falling down his nose. He reached for the collar of his white t-shirt, grabbing hold to pull it over his head, but a competitive rush propelled Lily to her feet.

“No!” she protested before the shirt could make its way too far up James’ stomach. He froze in place, peering over the fabric at her in confusion. “You can’t just play for me, Potter, that’s not fair. I want to win on my own.”

“Really, Evans, I don’t mind,” laughed James, finally following through to remove the shirt completely. His glasses came off in the process, stuck in the fabric, and Lily nearly choked as her mouth went dry at the full sight of him, broader and fuller than she’d remembered. Had she ever seen him without his glasses before? His face as naked as his torso? She needed another drink.

“I’m not going to let you cheat,” she said, actually stomping her foot in the process. And to prove the dedication to her claims, she stripped down to her bra and sent James her most determined, pointed stare. His glasses made their way back to his face so fast, he nearly poked his eye out. “Now, put your shirt back on, Potter, or I’ll come over there and do it myself.”

“That’s not the threat you think it is, Evans,” he breathed, nearly choking on his words.

Lily thought her leaping heart must be horribly visible through her exposed skin.

“Do you both need the rest of us to leave?” chimed in Sirius, throwing Lily from her rapidly spiraling thoughts.

She immediately sat back down, throwing James his shirt in the process, desperately trying to contain the butterflies threatening to escape through her throat. His shirt never made it back over his head and the rest of the night no longer passed in minutes, but instead in glances stolen from across the room.

***

“Whatever is the problem, Miss Evans, my dear?”

“Sir, I accidentally spilled an entire vial of Mermaid venom all over Potter. It’s burned straight through his robes and I’m worried it might be serious. Do you mind if I leave to take him to Madam Pomfrey’s?”

Professor Slughorn fumbled out a concerned response, granting his blessing, and Lily spared no time grabbing James by the wrist to drag him out of the classroom and through the dungeons. His eyes were wide as he studied the golden liquid eating through the fabric of his sweater. “Is this poisonous?” he asked, fingers fumbling with his deteriorating uniform.

Lily spun around with emerald fire behind her eyes. “It is,” she responded, stopping him in his tracks as they turned a corner. “So we ought to play it safe and get these off you.”

She watched his eyes flash with sudden realization before she pulled off his sweater and made quick work of the buttons on his shirt.

The knowing grin that broke out across James’ face sent waves of elation through her heart, radiating out to find him again and pull him down to her. Their mouths met with smiling lips and heavy sighs, eager to reconnect after what felt like ages apart, but in reality, couldn’t have been more than an hour.

“What did I do to deserve this?” James asked through jagged breaths as he grabbed for the door handle to the nearest broom closet, dragging Lily in after him by the waist.

“You gave me that look,” she said, laughing slightly as she moved her hands up his warm skin to comb through his tousled hair. “That bloody pointed look you get that drives me crazy.” She kissed him and he deepened it before pausing.

“Wait. You poisoned me because I looked at you?”

“I spilled poison on you because I wanted to get your shirt off.”

He beamed, his smile brightening the dim, crowded cupboard as he brought his hands up to hold her face. “Well, in that case, who am I to deny you this view?”

She scoffed. Then kissed him again.

#shirtless james potter may #i wasn't going to participate to this extent #but you asked so nicely!#<3 #jily fic #jily #james potter #lily evans #one shot #shirtless jp may

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

Was Hotch Abused?

I offer you my 2,300+ worded thoughts on the matter with episodes included. There's going to be lots and lots of talk about abuse so you're going to want to steer clear of that if that's something you're not cool with but for those of you interested... I give you all the proof I could think of:

Natural Born Killer.

In the eighth episode of the first season, “Natural Born Killer”, we meet Vincent Perrotta. His father was abusive but from the outside looking in, no one knew a thing. Perrotta started drinking at fourteen and committed petty crimes, as well as assault, for pleasure. Going as far as to kill his own father not too long after. But Perrotta is a monster and a psychopath so it’s clear we’re not supposed to sympathize which makes his interaction with Hotch so peculiar.

Hotch is our “Captain America”. A true neutral with an infinity for doing what’s right so it’s inconceivable to compare him to Perrotta and yet Hotch gives us some rather conflicting lines to dissect.

Before Gideon hands the interview over to Hotch, he spends a moment talking with the others out in the bullpen. The whole time he’s leaned back and he’s watching Morgan and Hotch. Now, at this point, we don’t know about the sexual abuse Derek Morgan faced at the hands of Carl Buford but there’s something about the way that Gideon spends the entirety of the conversation only looking at the two of them. Waiting for them to put together what he clearly already has and when Hotch does…

Hotch jumps straight into Perrotta’s profile, asking: “You grew up in a house that looked normal and happy, didn’t you Vincent?”, “But your father beat you every chance he got”

Perrotta excuses it with a shrug, “he smacked me around some, didn’t everybody’s old man?”

Abuse is a complicated thing and, often, abused children just don’t know what their parents are doing to them is abuse. It can be a subtle and outright thing but there’s an element of normalcy to it. The parent’s abuse is as habitual, as minimal as biting your nails to the child. Adults often can’t identify their parent’s past abuse.

With Hotch you learn that his lack of expression is often as telling as his expressions and as Hotch looks back at Perrotta, there’s something so sad about his eyes. His voice goes from loud, assertive to his whispered answer to Perrotta’s question. “No.” As if, well, maybe that’s a question he’d raised once too.

Perrotta doesn’t care about that though and he taunts “well, maybe if yours had you would have learned to fight”. But is it not more telling that Hotch didn’t make a sound? Perrotta got in several hits and the only sound Hotch made was when the wind was literally punched out of him. Not even when Gideon called to him and at that point, Perrotta did not the garrote around Hotch’s throat. That’s another thing mentioned before in the profile and something Hotch mentions to Perrotta directly. You learn to take the beatings, smile even. So, it’s just a little odd how little Hotch responded…

But that’s all nothing, you can take that how you want

Which leads us to the fateful, not everyone comment.

"You were just responding to what you learned, Vincent. When you grow up in an environment like that, an extremely abusive and violent household... it's not surprising that some people grow up to become killers"

That can’t mean NOTHING, there’s so much there but there’s something about Hotch’s subtle wording. The way he’s unconsciously slipped himself in there (a very real thing that people do) and he hasn’t even realized it. Doesn’t even know he’s done it until Perrotta pushes and he pauses, asks what Perrotta means. And the subtly of it, the way he doesn’t even mean to that says more than anything else.

“And some people grow up to catch them.”

It’s a super-specific comment to make. He can’t possibly be talking about Derek because he doesn’t even know about Carl Buford yet not to mention saying that about him would be incredibly rude if he were talking about Reid (and again, he doesn’t know about Reid’s childhood yet). So… that really only leaves him because JJ, Garcia, and Elle were not abused.

“P911”

In season two, episode two “P911” the team is hunting down a man trying to sell a young boy, Peter, on the black market. Kevin Rose is an underage boy “selling” himself on the internet while his abusive father has been in prison. I’ll let you just guess who it is that leads the team on finding out more about Kevin.

Your guess is more than likely right-- Morgan and Hotch. Now, we know about Morgan but come on. Nothing to say about it being Hotch who makes the emotional appeal?

The camera even follows his gaze, he’s crouched down (to appear non-threatening because he’s so close) and we watch his eyes take in the scars on Kevin’s chest. You can also note that while Gideon remarks that Kevin’s father was “always drunk, you never knew why he was hurting you, why he was so angry” both Kevin and Hotch look away from him.

AND FUCKING TRY AND TELL ME THE “some grow up to catch them” LINE WAS NOTHING TRY BECAUSE GUESS WHAT GIDEON SAYS? NO, NO GUESS--

Gideon: “At night you’d cry yourself to sleep hoping someone would come and save you”

And it’s HOTCH, HOTCH IS THE ONE TO SAY: “You have the chance to be the one who saves someone, Kevin. You can be the one who answers him, the one who stops his pain.”

PARALLELS PEOPLE THE PARALLELS

“Profiler, Profiled”

I bet you weren’t expecting this one, huh? But there’s something about people who faced trauma that makes it so perceptible to other traumatized people-- they sniff it out like coke to a drug hound. And, just guess, who it is that spends the majority of his time fighting with Morgan? Who knows (like I said about the bloodhound) immediately there is something Morgan’s hiding.

Hotch is angry, he’s upset that Morgan would hide anything. Mumbling about there being “larger implications” and how the team can’t have secrets. With the knowledge of exactly what that secret is it makes Gideon’s eye roll a little telling. Because it’s like they both know but neither will say. Driven home by Gideon turning the attention to Hotch, asking “would you want us profiling you?”

And again Hotch is the one to leap onto the abuse. The one to put the pieces together. Hotch’s anger makes no sense. He says he’s angry that Derek’s keeping a secret but the team has many, way too many. Over the years the team unwraps all kinds of secrets, he’s never angry then. So, it’s not about the implication of a secret at all. It’s what the secret is, like misplaced anger. Anger with himself may be leftover from his own abuse. But still…

Hotch lets Morgan escape. Knows exactly who and what Carl Buford is but all he tells the team is that “he won’t even speak about him”. He always knows how to find the abuse… like I said, a bloodhound.

George Foyet

I know you’re going to find this so fucking surprising but guess who also was abused? George Foyet was beaten by his biological father and his mother didn’t save him so he hates women (bleh, men are disgusting what’s knew).

Now, blah, blah, blah Hannah, I know you’re not about to say Foyet and Hotch are a lot alike-- no of course not. Don’t be silly. What I’m going to say is that they’re foil characters? They accent one another in an opposites sort of way. Foyet is a manipulative narcissist who doesn’t work well with others. Hotch is a guilt-ridden team leader who can’t let The Reaper’s case go. There are meant to be comparisons drawn between them. A good villain does that. George Foyet shows us that Hotch is not at all this removed, cool guy that we’ve previously assumed him to be. He cries in an alley because he blames himself when The Reaper kills a busload of people.

We see he has a rather compulsive nature. He never let The Reaper case go and has very personal ties in this case. Not even after Foyet attacks him, if anything it’s worse. He brings the case file home.

But it’s certainly interesting to see yet another “villain” with that same tragic abusive father and submissive mother come into play with Hotch. We’re nearing a point where it’s getting hard to call it coincidence (and according to David Rossi, there simply is not such thing).

Haunted.

In the second episode of the fifth season, “Haunted”, Hotch voice’s over a Dickinson quote: “One need not be a chamber to be haunted, One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing. Material place.” These quotes are often cheesy, if not a little cliché, but given the premise of this episode is in exploring the ways in which a man’s traumatic childhood has left him now grappling for a truth he can not define… well, maybe we can say the writers were onto something here.

Darrin Call, debatably the Unsub of “Haunted”, was abused by an alcoholic father. We see several signs of it throughout the episode-- Darrin’s delayed speech & severe neglect that leaves Darrin in dirty, hole-riddled clothing. If what we see is not enough, the reports that the team is given on Darrin explicitly state that he was extremely physically abused. It is this abuse that leads to the PTSD that he’s diagnosed with.

As sad and disheartening as Darrin Call’s life is, overall it’s the sort of episode that is forgotten over time. When it’s placed right after the episode that viewers have to watch Hotch say goodbye to Haley and Jack then, who is Darrin Call when compared to the agony of watching Hotch show genuine weakness? After watching Hotch lay in a hospital bed, tears in his eyes wondering if his son will remember him? His fears become our own and after watching George Foyet disarm and mutilate the one guy we’ve been led to believe for five seasons is infallibly, unflinchingly never going to break… well, Darrin Call has it bad but our focus is elsewhere.

It’s on Hotch, right?

The guy who is coming back to the job after only a month (and a day) off to recover. Who Morgan worries might have PTSD but he knows they can’t easily measure because Hotch wrote the questionnaire, he knows all the right answers. Who we see has had new locks installed since the attack and has Foyet’s file sitting open on a table for easy access. Who hears Darrin Call’s life (worked the same job without promotion for years before getting fired, no wife, no kids, a hermit) and bluntly asks why Darrin hasn’t just killed himself.

And let’s just take a moment to break down that comment. Hotch, who in the episode previously lost his wife and child, wants to know why a man who is steadily starting to sound a lot like him hasn’t just killed himself.

And I don’t say “sounds a lot like him” lightly.

Darrin Call has PTSD. Hotch, more than likely, has PTSD

Here are some signs just from that episode: hostility (he yelled at Garcia over something very small), self-destructive behavior (he ran into Darrin Call’s father’s house without a vest, back-up, or telling the other’s what he was doing), and guilt (blamed himself for missing the eye twitching Darrin exhibited because of his years of antipsychotic use)

Darrin Call was abused… this marks the second HEAVILY implied time that Hotch has been compared to another man abused by his father

Vincent Perrotta was the first with that hard to forget the exchange

George Foyet and his notably exactly the same past as Perrotta

“Haunted” feels like it’s supposed to prove to the audience that Hotch is losing it. He distances himself from Morgan, leaving every room that Morgan is in. He doesn’t pick up Garcia’s calls after Darrin Call attacks his therapist. The only glimpse we see of the old Hotch is with Emily, pulled to the side, but his guilt burns and he even brushes her off. Shaking his head and turning his back to her because somehow he should have seen something no one else did.

Throw in Reid’s comment about Call “victims are often drawn to the scene of their first trauma” and we’re painfully reminded of Hotch’s apartment. A place you’d think he’d want to escape but didn’t. The man was stabbed nine times in his own apartment and stayed in that same place. Almost sounds like that statement could be applied to Hotch too.

A dash of Hotch’s own comment about where Call would go to in his confusion and he says “to what he knows”, even the importance of how that orphanage is “where he became Darrin Call”. Where does Hotch go? What does Hotch know? The job.

So… we tally now three total Unsubs that Hotch has this direct relationship with. Three Unsubs with abusive fathers and mothers who couldn’t protect them. Hmm… coincidence?

Brothers Hotchner

Supervisor Special Agent Hotchner is a master of hiding, that is undeniable. It’s hard to see anything behind those furrowed brows and impersonal suits and that’s likely for a reason. However, anyone with a little sibling can tell you that no one on this Earth can and will annoy the ever-loving shit out of you like a sibling.

But that’s not really important. Sean and Hotch don’t talk about their parents. At all. Ever.

Hotch says that when Sean was in the first grade he got sent off to boarding school. “I was the screw-up making bad choices”. Interesting enough of a statement to make but you throw in the rough ages of Sean and Hotch at that time and it’s a little more than just “interesting”. You have Hotch at roughly 14-15 getting into trouble just like Morgan did at that same age (coincidence???).

(now you can certainly look at Hotch’s parentification vs. Sean’s immaturity doubled with substance abuse problems but we’d be stretching. “The Tribe” touches on the parentification but Sean just calls it “the big brother” thing and tells Hotch that he’s not Sean’s father and it’s fine it’s whatever. Hotch is a bit pushy. That’s not new. Substance abuse can just be a problem, it doesn’t have to be bc they were abused but again… a little coincidental)

So... was Aaron Hotchner abused as a child? I certainly think so

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner

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headheartbellarke · 3 years

Text

DISTRACTED | Charlie Gillespie

Requested by anon: “5 times reader (girlfriend) is almost distracted by a shirtless Charlie and one time she actually is.” PAIRING(s): Charlie Gillespie x fem!reader WORDS: 1.6k WARNING(s): some charlie thirst, what’s new ;) SUMMARY: 4 times Y/N is almost distracted by her shirtless boyfriend and 1 time she actually is.

You pride yourself over the fact that you never get distracted, no matter what. But sometimes, just sometimes, you can’t help it.

Especially when your boyfriend looks like that.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. Your eyes feel as if they are burning, and the ever-persistent headache of yours seems to be particularly intense today.

Yet, pushing all that tiredness away, you keep typing, typing, typing. The deadline for your essay that carries twenty per cent of your grade of your final year of college is tomorrow, and you’ve still got three hundred words to write.

Three hundred words does not seem like a lot on any other day, but after three cups of coffee and seven hours of staring at your laptop screen, it feels like death. The fact that you seem to be in a rut right now doesn’t help, either.

You scrounge around your brain, trying to pull ideas from each fold, but it’s useless. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, or maybe it’s because of your boyfriend, Charlie, who has currently resorted to painting your toenails after not getting any sort of attention from you for the past few hours.

Ever since lockdown started, you and your boyfriend have been living together in your shared apartment in Toronto. You two have been planning to move in together for a while, but his work and your college always seemed to be obstacles. But this lockdown gave you both the perfect opportunity – plus, it was time, too. You two have been dating for more than four years – although, you’ve had a crush on him for as long as you can remember, but the intensity of it was realized only in the moment when he kissed you after an amazing prom together – you guys went together because you were best friends and loved being around each other more than anything. But the fact that there could be something more, something hidden in years of friendship seemed unlikely to the both of you before that day.

“Done.” He says, proudly. Your eyes leave your screen to look at the beautiful emerald colour on your toenails. You smile at him, and say, “That’s gorgeous, Char. Where’d you find it?”

He shrugs, a lopsided smile on his face. “It was in the bottom of your bag.”

You nod. “Right. I bought it the day before my last offline exam ended. I forgot.”

He smiles. “Now, will you pay me some attention?”

You purse your lips and pretend to be thinking. “Hmm… tempting, but no. I still have to get this done.”

He groans, dramatically. “You have been ignoring me for past hundred hours!”

You chuckle, ruffling his hair. “You’re so dramatic. It’s only been half a day. Now, go away. I need to finish this.”

He groans, again, and you wonder if he’s finally given up.

Instead, he rolls off the bed, and stands taller, leaning against the doorframe. “Y/N?”

You hum in question, as he makes a show out of taking off his T-shirt.

You bite your lip and remember how long it has been since you’ve run your hands on his chest. But you know that he’s doing this on purpose, to get a fraction of your attention. He knows and is proud of the fact that he has a hold over you, and the fact that even after four years, he still gives you butterflies over the slightest of smiles.

So, instead of giving in, you crawl under your covers with your laptop and decide to work there, as you suddenly gain inspiration, and thank yourself for not being distracted by your boyfriend’s absolutely beautiful body.

“Oh, come on!”

The second time hit happens, it’s a Tuesday morning, and you’re giving an exam. Your laptop is in front of you, the face of your teacher and classmates filling your screen, as the sound of your pen scratching against your answer sheet fills the room.

You bite the end of your pen, pondering over a question when you suddenly hear your boyfriend’s voice. You look up, and notice him, shirtless, and talking on the phone to someone.

“Yeah, I mean, we could do that…” He says, and your eyes trail across his back, as he stares out the window on the wall opposite to you.

“No, Mom, we’re not gonna drive to Canada. I’m not that crazy!” He exclaims, and you arch your neck to get a better view of him, and the sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

“Sure, I can ask Y/N…” He says, and you quickly avert your eyes back to your paper, just in time to hear your teacher call out your name.

“Y/N? What are you looking at?” She asks, and you adjust your headphones, clearing your throat.

“I thought someone was at the door. Sorry, Ms. Harrington.” You’re painfully aware of the warmth spreading through your cheeks, and as she nods, you start writing again.

You hear Charlie whisper a ‘sorry’, and you smile at him – he thinks that the reason your teacher just called you out is because he was going to ask you something.

You don’t correct him – his ego doesn’t need to know the fact that you were almost distracted.

Just one more question, you think. One more question, and you’re done with this semester.

But your mind is wandering, and the fact that you still have thirty minutes left doesn’t help. When this exam started, you thought that you wouldn’t be able to finish it in time and wrote as fast as you could, but now there’s plenty of time and just one, tiny answer left.

You rest your elbows on your desk and check on your classmates. Everyone is frantically scribbling, and you smile evilly at the fact that you’re not one of them right now.

“Honey? You have a minute?”

You hear Charlie from behind you. You nod, and say, “I’m listening.” You don’t turn back, since you have to keep an eye on your teacher. (She is knitting right now, for some reason.)

“You wanna go somewhere for the holidays?” He says, his raspy morning voice causing goosebumps to appear on your skin.

“I’m not sure… I mean we just came back from Maui last month – do you think it’s wise to go somewhere again?”

“Well, we’ll maintain social distancing, and use masks.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Come on, it’s our fifth anniversary!”

You finally look at him, and your breath catches in your throat. He’s shirtless, as usual. You mentally curse him as you think that you need to add ‘no being shirtless for no reason’ to your household rules. (Currently, you have three: one, no disturbing the other while working; two, following the chore chart; three, no spilling coffee or red wine on the white living room rug.) (The last one has occurred more times than one might expect.)

You focus on keeping your eyes trained on his, but you still struggle to form words. “I – not a wise idea…”

He grins, understanding the situation, as you avert your eyes back to your paper.

“Please, baby?”

You know he’s pouting.

“Fine.” You say, just to get him off your back.

“You’re the best!” He presses a kiss to your cheek and is instantly gone. As your mind still tries to hold on to the frayed strings of the warmth and the smell of his presence, you pray that your classmates didn’t notice the interaction.

You smile at Charlie’s mother, who is talking animatedly on your phone.

“Then, I told Meg to get some sugar, but she bought salt instead, and to top that, she dumped the entire bowl into my batter! Now, it tastes like absolute shit!” She glares at Megan, Charlie’s sister, who smiles sheepishly from behind her.

You laugh. “Like brother, like sister.”

“You know it.” She says, her French accent thick.

“So, I was thinking… Maybe, after the holidays, we could fly back to Dieppe? It’s not like we’re gonna go to college any time soon, so –”

“Yes, please! I miss you guys so much. You know, last night –”

She starts to say something else, but your boyfriend is doing push ups in front of you, and it’s really, really, really hard to focus, especially when his body is glistening under the afternoon sun.

He seems to feel your gaze, and sharply turns towards you, while you quickly look back to his mother.

“–but the point is, I miss you two.” She finishes, while Megan nods. “Me too, sis. It’s so boring here without you two.”

You smile and can feel warmth in your stomach. “Of course. I miss you guys, too. Charlie’s so boring.”

“Hey!”

+1.

You exhale and close the lid of your laptop. “I’m done!” You yell, and Charlie instantly appears at the door, and runs towards the bed you’re currently seated on, and jumps atop.

“Finally! I missed you!” He says, wrapping an arm around your torso, pulling you closer.

“I missed you too, baby. But now I’m done with all my assignments, so I’m all yours for the next two weeks!” You sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He grins, and your eyes avert to his chest, but this time, you let yourself be distracted, because after weeks of sleep deprivation and pure torture, you deserve this.

You smile, connecting your lips, and run your hands on his chest. He smiles against the kiss, and you whisper, “I love you so much.”

“And I love you so much.”

as always feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated!

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prettytoxicrevolver · 3 years

Text

Mine | Anthony Beauvillier

Requested? Always... by me

Warnings? None?

Summary: You reflect on your relationship with Tito

Word Count: 1,516

Italic parts are flashbacks as always

Tangled in the arms of the man you love, your eyes wander across his features. You smile as your eyes fall over his full eyelashes, the curve of his lips, the tiny dimple in his cheek. Your heart filled and filled and filled looking at Beau. Like a waterfall cascading down over the same smooth rocks, Beau’s love was familiar, perfect, and never-ending.

“Hey,” Beau says and your eyes drag up to his, the shiny blues staring down at you.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

Your mind had wandered back and forth a bit, thinking about random things but mostly remaining on the beautiful boy before you.

“Remember when we first met?” You ask and Beau shakes his head, an embarrassed smile slipping onto his lips.

“Hello ladies, welcome to dockside what can I-“

Beau paused his usual spiel as he finally looks up to see who he’s greeting. His heart seizes in his chest and moves to his throat making it hard to speak.

You were the most gorgeous girl he had ever seen. Every feature, every detail about you struck him instantaneously. And he quickly realized how long he had been standing there staring at you in awe.

“Can I get you anything to start?” he finishes, his eyes flickering to you over and over.

Beau was in agony the entire time waiting on you. He stumbled over his words, nearly dropped drinks, plates, with one look of the eye he had been captivated by you instantaneously. His mind was on you the entire time, wanting to talk to you, know you, he already started falling and he didn’t even know your name.

By the time dinner is over, Beau watches as you should be heading out with your friends but you tell them you’ll meet them at the car. He watches as your head swivels, looking for something or someone. When you look in his direction though, you stop and start to walk towards him.

He’s frozen as he watches you walk, nerves and wonder in his eyes. When you reach him you offer a dazzling smile.

“Hi,” you say and Beau short circuits instantly. “You were my waiter right?”

“Yes,” is all he can muster back.

“Thank you for the excellent service,” you wink at him before handing a piece of paper to him, bounding off to your friends.

Beau could only watch you leave, shell shocked by your interaction. He eventually shakes himself out of it, pulling open the paper he gave you. His mouth drops open when he sees your name and number scrawled across in neat handwriting.

“Can you believe it?” you ask reminiscing on the best night of your life.

“God I was so nervous around you,” he admits and you grin widely up at him.

“I didn’t believe in love back then. I never thought it would turn into this,” you tell him and he smiles softly at you.

You sit outside, relaxed back on your porch as you wait for Beau to pick you up. It was what you were pretty sure was your fifth official date, in between all of the little hangouts and the facetime calls.

Finally, his truck roars to a stop in front of your house and you find yourself bounding over to it. You swing open the door, launching yourself into the passenger seat before turning to look at Beau. He’s already staring at you, utter awe and wonder on his face, and before either of you can say anything he’s driving off.

You end up at a restaurant on the water, and after eating too much and laughing too loud you head out to the nearest pier. Beau tangles his hand into yours and you lean into his touch, soaking in the summer air and the cologne of the boy next to you.

He tugs at your hand till you’re sitting at the edge of the pier, legs dangling over in danger of falling in at any second. From your shoulders, all the way down you and Beau are connected, never-ending.

With a calculated thought, he slides his arm up, wrapping gently around your shoulders for the first time. You turn and look at him and he offers you that special soft smile, the one seemingly reserved for you and hidden from the rest of the world.

You kiss him until that smile is imprinted into your skin.

“Well I am quite persuasive,” Beau says, still reminiscing.

“Shut up,” you joke.

“Move in with me,” Beau is all wide eyes and hard-set determination.

“What?” you ask, wanting to make sure you heard him right.

“Live with me. I want to come home to you every day.”

You cant even find the words, the words that you never thought would want to surface after everything you had been through. And yet here you were.

You jump straight into his arms, the hockey player catching you with ease and wrapping you up into his arms. He already feels like home.

The next morning you wake up in a haze of smiles and tangled limbs and having no earthly idea what’s going to happen next to you two. Beau is already awake, memorizing the lines of your eyes and the curve of your lips, and the way you snore. He’s whipped.

“You hesitated last night,” he speaks softly.

You turn and look at him, and his soft eyes crawl across your face. He’s trying to understand you from the outside, knowing your emotions lie on your face.

“Did I ever tell you about my parents’ marriage?” you ask quietly and Beau shakes his head.

“My parents loved each other, but they shouldn’t have stayed together if that makes sense. They should have separated when I was a kid, but stayed together for my brother and me,” you explain softly and he takes your hand, pressing light kisses over your knuckles as you talk.

“Baby for as long as I live, that won’t be us. Okay?”

“Hey,” Beau says, pulling your attention back to him.

“I. Love. You. So. Much.” he enunciates each word with a kiss to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and your lips.

“I’m gonna love you forever.”

You paced uncertainly back and forth in the living room of yours and Anthony’s apartment. He was supposed to be home after the game hours ago. But you watched as he heads to a bar and then another one and it’s left you worried and frustrated.

He had been going out a lot recently, and not that it bothered you for him to be hanging out with his friends, it’s that you didn’t know where he was. That you had been going to bed at all hours of the night and only sometimes waking up with Beau next to you.

By the time Beau shows up, it’s 2:30 am, and you’re worn thin. The door swings open, and your head whips to see him waltzing in. You’re about to say something but hold up a hand, not even knowing where to start.

“Are you okay?” you ask first, wanting to make sure everything was alright.

“I’m-I’m fine,” he stutters out and you recognize with clarity that he’s not drunk, not even tipsy.

“Okay good,” you let out a breath. “Then may I ask what the fuck you’ve been doing for the past few nights?”

Your hands fall to your hips and Beau thinks for a moment you distinctly look like your mom. All frown lines and tight lips. He never wants you to look at him that way again.

“I’ve just been out,” he tries and your arms flail out, smacking against the outer part of your thigh.

“Out?”

“With the guys,” he finishes and flinches before you even say anything.

“Beau, I can't keep doing this.”

Even if Beau wasn’t drunk he knew that one sentence would slap him sober. He takes several steps forward trying to gain some balance back, attempt to tether himself back to you, the constant anchor in his life.

“Baby,” he says brokenly.

Your face is tear-stained, fresh tears covering the tracks of the old ones. Ones he wishes he could have pushed away and promised his love was there and never-ending.

He takes another step forward but you flew past him, out the door, and towards the street. You didn’t know where you were going at the moment, but just knew you couldn’t be near Beau right now.

Just as you pause, a sob leaving your lips you feel a hand on your wrist turning you around to face him. Another sob works its way out of you and you raise your hands, only to drop them in defeat.

Beau pulls you into his chest and you cry against him. He rubs your back, whispering into your hair. Finally, you come to a halt and look up at Beau.

“I’m never gonna leave you.”

“You’re the best thing that has ever been mine,” Beau whispers and you smile into his chest, a rare sun-stopping smile and Beau falls for you all over again.

“And you’re mine.”

#anthony beauvillier x y/n #anthony beauvillier x reader #anthony beauvillier fic #anthony beauvillier imagine #nhl islanders fic #islander #islanders x reader #islanders imagine

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cutesuki--bakugou · 4 years

Text

Anything

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Rough Sex (Vaginal), Rough Oral Sex (blow job, face fucking), Spanking / Whipping (with a drumstick), Obsessive Reader, Toxic / Power Imbalanced Relationship, Emotional Manipulation, Suggested Dubcon / Reluctant / Compliant Reader

Words: 10,418

Pairing: Drummer!Bakugou Katsuki x Superfan!Fem!Reader

Quirkless, Punk rock band AU

BTW, please blacklist the tag cutesuki-lemons if you do not want to see this content from my blog. I will no longer be tagging with specific keywords for this type of content.Thank you~

Due to the nature of this post, the characters are 18+

Tags: @lady-bakuhoe, @gallickingun, @mirakumiruku, @wakaoujisenhime, @sunnieskies02, @hisoknen

Art in banner by me.

This was incredibly frustrating. Finally, after years of admiring and being an incredibly dedicated fan, you were standing in front of your favorite punk rock band. They were just a few feet from you, so close that you could reach out and touch them. How badly you wanted their full and undivided attention was near suffocating, and yet, it was so difficult for you to find the courage to speak at all. You had given them your name after you had been brought backstage for the meet up, which was a perk of the insanely expensive VIP tickets you and your friends had purchased.

That’s all that you had been able to say. Your friend, however, was absolutely bursting with questions. You were very close to her, but damn, you wished that she would just stop talking long enough for someone else to get a word in. All day you had been brooding over what you wanted to ask, what you wanted to say to these men that had been such a huge part of your life for the last few years. Their music had inspired you, made you cry, pumped you up so much that you’d jump around your room and just jam out. But, more than that, they had saved you. You didn’t know how to explain it, or even how it happened in the first place, but you had truly begun to feel like their existence is what you lived for.

Was that unhealthy? Probably. But who could blame you? You loved every single one of them. All five men were like your best friends, and you felt so close to them from your time following them on social media and attending their concerts. You knew them like the back of your hand, from birthdays, to favorite food, drinks, hobbies, past or current girlfriends, and you had even found out their personal telephone numbers. Had you ever called them? No, of course not. That would be creepy.

Midoriya Izuku, the band leader and lead singer, was being the most engaging as far as answering questions. Unlike their punkish attire and aesthetic, he was like sunshine, incredibly friendly and soft with his curly green hair and freckled cheeks. He was adorable, able to make all the little fangirls scream and squeal with his grin and a cheeky wink.

Todoroki Shouto, lead guitar and backup singer, was the quiet pretty boy of the group, breaking hearts with his intense and piercing stare. That wasn’t to say he didn’t have a soft side to him, but more than anything, he was extremely dense, and his genuine confusion was what made him so desirable.

Kirishima Eijirou, second guitar, was another ray of sunshine amongst the black clothes and punk piercings. He loved to get the crowd riled up, his endless energy and cheery personality infectious. Out of everyone, he was the most openly friendly without a hint of shyness and treated everyone like he had known them forever.

Kaminari Denki, bass guitar, was the group idiot. He was nice, but often did and said things that could get the group into trouble or make a fool of himself in the public eye. Funny and playful, he could make anyone laugh, either from a joke or from just being a silly fool.

Although you adored them all, one of them had you in his grip, like your heart had been locked in a vice that grew tighter every time you saw him. The fifth member, Bakugou Katsuki, was your absolute dream man. Rough, arrogant, mean, and foul mouthed, he was the bands second in command, drummer, and backup singer for moments that required his deep and gruff voice. God, he was everything you ever wanted in a partner. Boyfriend. Husband. Whatever! You wanted him so badly that you dreamed about it constantly, picturing yourself in those strong arms or having those calloused hands on your body. Much to your misfortune, he was the most private on social media, so there was still a lot about him that you didn’t know.

That was one of his most attractive qualities to you. His mystery and his silence. What was he really like? Was he this grumpy and off putting with those close to him? Did he have a gentle side of any kind?

You wanted to know everything about him! But, standing here in front of the entire band, you were frozen, not able to make a squeak. Even your eyes were locked on the floor, unable to look up at them in fear that you would gawk a little too intensely. Or start crying. One of the two would happen, probably.

Your chance to interact with your heroes was slipping by with each moment, however, and you didn’t know if you’d ever get to have this chance again. What did you want to say? What questions had you thought about? You had a million of them, all you had to do was just say one. Something. Anything!

“Bakugou-!”

The name slipped from your lips in a sharp snap, which tapered off at the end with a tremble. Just as the sweet name left your lips, your eyes darted up, catching the confused and irritated crimson glare of the blonde drummer. At first, you were taken aback by his current appearance, still flushed and sweaty from the concert performance. His blonde spiked locks were wild and unruly, bangs stuck to the sweaty skin of his forehead and cheeks. He was so handsome, all messy and hot--

“U-uhm…” Your friend that stood beside you gave you a nudge in the side, though she was unable to pull your gaze away from Bakugou, who’s annoyed snarl made your heart begin to race. “[Name], I was about to ask something else…”

“What’d you want to say, you damn shitty extra.” Bakugou barked at you, ignoring your friends' whine at being interrupted. “Don’t just bark out my name and then stand there like a fucking moron.” That gruff and demanding voice was intoxicating, making you involuntarily clench your thighs together and clutch at the fabric of your skirt.

“I… I was wanting to know. Uhm,” Your eyes darted across his face and his chest as you tried to think of what you had been wanting to ask him. You couldn’t remember for the life of you, but as your gaze landed on the piercing he had on the bridge of his nose, a thought popped into your head and curiosity flourished instantly. “How many piercings do… do you have?”

Bakugou’s eyebrow cocked in initial confusion at the question, before returning to its usual furrowed position. “The fuck? That’s kind of personal, ain’t it?”

“I’ll tell you how many I have.” You weren’t sure if the teasing, flirtatious sound of your voice was purposeful or not, but just hearing yourself made the tips of your ears flush. “Five types… Nine piercings total. I bet you beat me on that, hm?”

“Tch, that’s fucking nothing, you little punk poser. I have nine types, thirteen total.” Bakugou shoved his hands into the pockets of his loose shorts, pulling the fabric down just enough to show the skin of his left hip and a peak of his boxers. One of the stated piercings gleamed in the light once exposed, and it took all your willpower to not hyper focus on it. “Not like you’ll ever know them all or see them.”

“I bet I could guess.” “You’d fucking fail, moron-”

“A-ah, let’s not!” Midoriya interrupted, giving a nervous laugh and a wave of his hand to pull your attention off Bakugou. “We’re not here to talk about such personal things, you know! Right, Kacchan?”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Bakugou shifted his weight from his right foot to his left, giving an annoyed click of his tongue. “I’m not in the mood for this bullshit.”

“Why?” You once again spoke without thinking. “Because you missed your cue during Collide?” The accusation immediately had Bakugou’s eyes widening in surprise before he scoffed, glaring crimson daggers at you.

“Well aren’t you just a fucking super fan.”

“I try to be.” Although you knew that he wasn’t kind to you, the fact that he noticed your extreme interest in the band made your cheeks flush, looking down at the ground between your black combat boots. The t-shirt you had paired with your skirt was your favorite that you owned of the bands merchandise, and just seeing it as you gaze down over your chest made your stomach bubble nervously. Was it really that obvious? Was it weird to him? Did he like it?

“Ah, well, anyway!” Your friend piped in again, taking a step closer to Midoriya with a sparkle in her eyes. “Deku! Please, tell us about your girlfriend!”

Midoriya instantly went into his flustered state of rubbing the back of his head, his stuttering and embarrassed gibberish cracking with his exhausted voice, leaving you once again off to the sidelines. With a small, quiet sigh, you fiddled with the hem of your skirt, more questions burning on the tip of your tongue. In your down casted vision, you saw Bakugou’s feet shift, and there wasn’t a second thought in your mind about looking up at him. Your gaze immediately locked with his, which was still a dark and threatening glare.

Your heart instantly skipped a beat, the heat in your cheeks growing hotter. Had he already been looking at you? Why was he glaring so intensely? You didn’t think that he would get upset with the mention of his mistake that you had pointed out, but perhaps he had gotten embarrassed? In truth, you hadn’t meant your statement to be argumentative in any way. You were more concerned about him. Messing up during a performance was a big deal, and though most people might not have noticed, you were curious if it was eating at him or if he just doesn’t care.

Then, he made a move that you didn’t expect. With a quiet click of his tongue, he began to make his way out of the room, only stopping at the door when Kirishima spoke up.

“Woah, man, where are you going?” The redhead interrupted Midoriya, who also looked at Bakugou curiously.

“I work a lot harder than all of you assholes during a show! I’m sick of fucking standing around, and these losers aren’t even interesting. I’ll be in my room.” Before anyone could stop him, the door slammed shut with his exit, and you turned your attention to Midoriya as he sighed.

“A-aha, I’m sorry about Kacchan! He’s uh… he doesn’t like meetups much.”

“That’s a shame…” You mumbled under your breath, already missing his presence. You could still feel that glare on you, so threatening and dangerous. This had been your chance to really make yourself stand out from the crowd and show him how genuinely interested you were in him, and you wasted it. You cared about him more than these other women that fawned over him like brainless zombies. You were perfect for him. You knew you were, without a doubt, and you wanted him.

It was true that the rest of the band members were close to your heart, that you admired all of them as your heroes. But Bakugou… You had just ruined your chance to talk with him and get to know him.

There wasn’t anything else you could do.

“Is there a bathroom I can use?” Your question once again popped out of your mouth during the middle of a conversation, though instead of stopping it, Kirishima smiled at you sweetly. His kind face and gentle touch to your arm to lead you away from the group so he could talk to you had your heart racing, almost too scared to take a step in fear that you’d trip with how distracted you were by his face.

“Yeah, babe. Go left down the hall, you’ll see it marked. Don’t get yourself into trouble, m’kay?”

B-babe? Aahh, why would he call me that? He’s too sweet for his own good. Cheeks flushing, you gave a small nod, thanking him quietly before heading out of the room, taking a final quick glance at the group behind you to catch Kirishima giving you a playful wave. Of course, by the time you stepped outside into the hallway, Bakugou had already vanished. Using what you had remembered of the route to get to this room from backstage, you hadn’t seen anything that was labeled as a changing room for any of the men. So, you went left down the hall as you had originally been instructed, glancing at each door you passed to see if there were any names scribbled on the dry erase board many of them sported.

Your heart nearly stopped when you finally saw it. Bakugou Katsuki, written in red marker with a shitty doodle of what looked to be a hand holding up the middle finger, along with the words “fuck off”. Before going in, you took a moment to press your ear up against the door, listening closely to see if there were any signs of life. There wasn’t a single sound or hint of movement, so gathering your courage and glancing up and down the hall for danger, you took hold of the doorknob, your heart beginning to race as it moved without resistance.

With a quiet click, the door opened, not making another sound as you cracked it just enough to look inside. The lights were on, and your suspicions that he hadn’t been inside were confirmed. Feeling a bit discouraged, you considered just going back to the room to finish off your time with the rest of the band. That would probably be enough to satisfy your longing for them, right? The others could be great company, and maybe Bakugou would come back before you left.

But, deep in your chest, you could feel the need to be with Bakugou alone to talk to him one on one. You wanted his attention more than anything, and you knew that there wasn’t going to be another chance for you to see him this close again any time soon. No, you couldn’t run away. You had already come too far to back out now. What’s the worst he could do? Kick you out? Call security to have you removed? Call you names? Press you up against the wall and threaten you?

Ah, well, maybe that wasn’t all that bad. You’d probably melt in his hands and collapse on the floor in a blushing puddle of tears if he so much as touched you.

Gathering your resolve, you pushed yourself on into the room, walking lightly and glancing this way and that to make sure he wasn’t just laying on some furniture or something to take a nap. Feeling confident that he wasn’t in the room, you shut the door behind you with a light click, taking a few timid steps into the room. Almost instantly, you were completely engulfed by the scent of his body spray, which you had only been faintly able to pick up while in the group. It was such a powerful scent, bold and intense, just like him. How quickly just the simple scent of him made your core burning hot was a bit staggering, feeling your knees already growing weak and your chest growing tight.

This is harder than I thought… Just from smelling him like this I feel like I’m going crazy. And he’s not even in here! I should leave before I get too distracted… But… This is his stuff!

Beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed being in the presence of Bakugou’s possessions, your teary gaze scanned the room methodically, surprised to see that the room was actually very well kept. With his brash personality, you more expected Bakugou’s personal space to be a wreck, but the only thing that was really out of place was a small pile of clothes tossed aside next to a suitcase. A desire to be close to Bakugou driving you, there wasn’t a moment of hesitation as you made your way towards it, squatting down. Right on top was the tank top he had just been wearing, still soaked with his sweat. It was the most recent thing that had touched his body. It still had his essence all over it. How could you just leave it there?

Picking it up, you brought the shirt up to your nose, inhaling deeply. It was absolutely delicious, your body quivering from the excitement and adrenaline beginning to pump through your veins. You were actually holding one of Bakugou’s sweaty shirts in your hands, one that he had just performed in! This was absolutely real. It wasn’t a dream!

Becoming overwhelmed with your feelings for him, you flopped back to sit on your butt, spreading your legs open. Since you were wearing fishnet hose with decently large holes, you had direct access to your already soaked pussy, the little lace thong easily moved aside. Now, all that existed to you was the scent wafting off his shirt and your fingers eagerly stroking your sex, alternating between stroking your clit and digging two of your fingers inside you. The cloth of the t-shirt pressed up against your lips and nose, you panted and moaned softly against it, imagining that you were right up against his chest, his fingers teasing your cunt.

You were so engrossed in your fantasy that you could even hear him taunting you, that deep growl of his voice in your ear.

“That’s right, babygirl. You like when I finger that slutty pussy, don’t you?”

“You’re so fucking wet, you little whore. Dripping all for me.”

“Getting horny just from the smell on my clothes? You dirty fuck.”

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

The sudden rattling boom of a familiar yell startled you out of your pleasant daydream, turning your moan into a squeal as you nearly jumped out of your skin. Spinning around, you were met with the wide-eyed shocked crimson glare of your dream man, who was standing halfway in the room, as if he had stopped in his tracks upon seeing you. All you could do was sit there in shock, still holding his shirt up to your face as your other hand tried to pull your skirt down between your legs, as if to hide your sin.

“I,” Stuttering, you tried to gather yourself, clenching your thighs together tightly. “I, uhm, Bakugou, it’s not- How’d you… get in?”

His shocked expression contorted into one of confusion, then into annoyance, his brows furrowed deeply as he startled at you. “Are you fucking kidding me? You didn’t lock the door, ya dumb cunt.” Walking the rest of the way inside, he slammed the door shut loudly behind him, startling you again enough to scurry back against the wall, your knees pulled up to your chest protectively. “What the fuck are you even questioning me for? You’re the horny bitch sitting on my floor sniffing my fucking clothes and touching yourself.” Without having to look back at the doorknob, Bakugou gave the little lock a twist, setting the latch firmly in place.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you could only stare at him, your eyes captivated by that fierce glare. How hot he made you only intensified now that he was back in your presence, and more than that, the asshole was even shirtless. His flawless muscular figure made your mouth feel dry, as if any and all liquid your body could produce was pooling between your legs. It was everything you could do not to start touching yourself again, clutching onto his shirt with both hands tightly. “I… I’m sorry. I just… I-”

“You’re just a damn psycho fan, aren’t ya?” Reaching up to give his hair a quick ruffle, Bakugou started making his way towards you, his ruined and ragged skater shoes squeaking against the smooth wooden floor. “I’m surprised you didn’t rip your shirt off during the fucking concert and throw your bra on stage.”

“I’m not stupid like those girls… I have dignity. And I don’t want a bunch of other people seeing my tits anyway.” Your voice lowered down to a meek whisper by the time he stood in front of you, both of his hands on his hips, as if he were about to scold you like an angry parent. With him so close, your eyes glanced over every inch of his bare torso, drinking in how absolutely flawless he was. What was even more enticing was the piercings he had so proudly boasted about not long ago, a pair of them placed on his collarbones, nipples, and hips.

“Tch, dignity?” Bakugou scoffed, a sly smirk crossing his lips. “‘Dignity’, the little slut says, as she sits on the floor in my dressing room fucking herself to the stench on my shirt. Pathetic.”

“What are… Are you going to kick me out?”

“There’s a lot that I could do to you,” Bakugou’s smirk turned wicked, his lips curling up to show his gums. “But how about you tell me what the fuck you were doing in here?”

“I just… I really wanted to get an autograph or picture with you. You’re my,” Your breath caught in your throat, not wanting to let it slip that he was your absolute dream man. “You’re my favorite band member.”

“Then what are you doing with my clothes?”

An intense burning suddenly rushed to your cheeks with a new round of embarrassment, and with it came the stinging sensation of tears building up in your eyes. What had you been doing? You had just wanted to talk to him more, to get to know him better, and just spend time with your hero. And yet, you had let yourself get completely overwhelmed by a burning desire for him, one that was just too strong to ignore in the moment of solitude with his possessions. You knew that you had a very intense crush on him, but that bad and that… gross? You had told yourself over and over that you weren’t like the desperate women who would do anything filthy to get his attention, yet here you were, sniffing his clothes and touching yourself.

“I… I don’t know what I was doing.” Your voice quivered as you avoided looking at him, trying to blink the tears away. “That was really gross of me. I had just… wanted to see you in private. I wasn’t getting a chance to talk to you, to any of you, and… I just wanted my chance.”

“You wanted your chance, eh?” Bakugou brought a hand up to his chin, rubbing it as if he were in thought, contemplating his options. “So much that you’d sneak into my room, to wait for me or try to corner me?”

Swallowing the lump that had grown in your throat, you coward down back against the wall, wishing that you could just shrink away in shame. Your impulses had completely ruined your chances. He had to think you were a total freak by now, he’d never want to even give you the time of day.

“Ya know,” Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest, taking a half step closer to you. His posture and presence over you was so aggressive and domineering that you couldn’t find it in yourself to move, only pulling your legs up tighter to your chest to try and get further away from him. “You talk all big, saying that you’re not like those other extras out there that’ll drop their pants in seconds for me. That you have ‘dignity’. But I don’t think that’s true. I think you’re just like those other sluts out there, a stupid whore that is driven by nothing but her cunt.”

You gave a small shake of your head, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs and the swirling in your stomach from how he was treating you. You couldn’t believe it was turning you on so much. “No, I… That isn’t what I wanted.”

“I think it is. You’re disgusting. Nothing but a filthy super fan and a stalker. Why don’t you just admit it?”

“Because… It’s not true. I love you, but not… It’s not all like that.”

“If you loved me, you’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” The change in tone caught you off guard, his voice no longer accusatory and vicious. Instead, his growl was almost soothing, as if he were trying to calm your frantic thoughts of failure. “You’d do anything to stay in the same room as me. To just be able to fucking look at me or get a shitty autograph, hm?”

“I would… yes.” Your heart racing, you tried to blink away the tears still prickling in your eyes, but they were persistent. “But if you want me to leave, I’ll… do that, too. I shouldn’t have come here like this in the first place…”

“You regret it?” Bakugou moved his hands back to his hips, his fingers resting against the pristine shape of his hips with such rugged and confident posture. You were so conflicted on your feelings, and that question only made your throat grow tight. Did you regret it? All your actions up to this point had gotten you here, alone in his room with him, and no matter what the interaction was or may end up being, just getting to be here was a dream come true.

But what would you do? Would you really do anything he asked of you? Anything? In truth, you didn’t think that you had the courage and you would just annoy him until he kicked you out. What would he even want from you in the first place? You weren’t innocent enough to not have noticed the bulge beneath the zipper of his shorts, pressing up into the fabric. Was this entire situation, having you cowering on the floor in front of him like this, actually turning him on? Did he… like you, then? Was he attracted to you?

“I asked you a question.” Bakugou snapped when you didn’t answer him, leaning forward a bit to glower down at you with that typical snarl.

“I don’t… I don’t regret it. I just don’t want to upset you.”

“Aw, don’t want to upset me, eh?” With a click of his tongue, Bakugou’s snarl stretched into a smirk. “Poor little stalker, scared to upset me. Don’t worry, babygirl. Just do what I ask, and you won’t upset me.”

“Really? You’re not upset?”

“Not at all, babe. But you have to do what I say. You’ll do anything for me, won’t you?” The condescending growl of his voice was lost to you, only able to latch on to the pet names and hope of getting back on his good side.

“Yes.”

“Because you’re not like those other girls. You're my number one fan. Aren’t you?”

A new burning of heat and tears flared up, unable to stop the happy smile on your lips. “Yes. Yes! I am! I love you so much-”

“Get on your knees.”

Smile faltering, you were confused by the demand, looking up at Bakugou through your gathered tears. “What?”

“Get on your fucking knees.” Bakugou snapped again, the gleam in his glare almost… sinister. Still, there was something in you that begged for you to comply, and just like your impulses earlier, you couldn’t ignore it. Squeezing the fabric of his shirt tightly in your hands, you slowly shifted yourself up onto your knees as demanded, though the space between him and the wall was limited. Worried about your face being too close to his crotch, you sat back mostly on your legs, but he was quick to correct you.

“All the way up on your knees.”

Nibbling at your bottom lip, you pushed yourself up to be kneeling, your eyes glancing and looking everywhere but at the crotch of his baggy blank punk shorts, which reached his knees and ended in tattered fabric. The chains on both hips rattled lightly as he shifted his weight to his other foot, and that slight sound pulled your eyes to look at them, and thus at his crotch. At this angle, you could truly see how strained he was, the form of his cock clearly visible. The heat in your cheeks grew fiercer just thinking about what was just a few inches from your nose, and what was worse, the smell of him was overwhelming all your senses. He must have just recently reapplied his spray after sweating like mad for hours on end, but even his natural scent was enticing.

“What are you looking at, babe?”

Bakugou’s voice broke you out of your stupor, bringing you to look up at his face. “Nothing… Just, well…” Your voice tapered off, unable to find it within you to ask him. He obviously had a boner, but what the hell did that mean?

“Open your mouth. Keep those pretty eyes on my face.” His commands had grown softer, as if he were purring at you to keep you compliant. Opening your mouth as told, you peered up at him through your lashes, tilting your head back a little. The way his smirk grew had your skin tingling, but that isn’t what had all your attention. Your focus was on his hips, listening to the rustling of fabric and watching the movement of his arms through your peripheral vision. “Good girl. Now stick out your tongue. And don’t move.”

Slowly, your tongue lolled out, and the low groan he gave in satisfaction of your obedience had you opening your mouth wider. As you sat there waiting for him, you could feel the saliva beginning to dribble down your chin and along the length of your tongue, gathering in a slick pool before dripping off the tip of your tongue to the floor.

Suddenly, you felt a hard and hot presence slap against your tongue, making you squeak and recoil back. Though, before you could get far, your hair was in Bakugou’s fist, yanking you back up into position and peering up at him in shocked fear. He was visibly agitated, but his smirk was still wide, teeth bared.

“What do you think you’re doing, slut? I said don’t move. You told me you’d do anything I say.”

Trembling now, you pulled your gaze from his to look at his hips, pressing your lips together tightly as you gazed upon his erect cock. As he held it steady with his free hand, you couldn’t help but take in every detail, from the girth and length, the prominent veins and ridges, and the frenum barbell piercing nestled just under the blushing head. It was truly the most attractive cock you had ever seen in your life, and a fire began to rage in your core as you realized that was what had just hit your tongue.

Bakugou’s cock… He… He wants me to suck him off? What if I’m not good enough… I shouldn’t!

You could feel the heat of your essence beginning to dribble down your thighs, your poor excuse for underwear and hose completely soaked through. You could feel the throbbing all the way into your stomach, and it was impossible to deny that you were the horniest you had ever been. But this isn’t what you had expected or wanted to do. Was it?

“That’s what you said, isn’t it?” Bakugou pulled your head a bit closer, giving you a few rough smacks to the cheek with his impressive cock. “You would do anything for me.” With your lips still tightly closed, he ran the tip of his cock across them, smearing his precum along your skin. “So be a good girl and give my cock a little kiss. Be sweet, now.”

Although the demand was embarrassing, the pressure of his grip on your hair and his cock literally at your lips made you feel like you truly didn’t have a choice. He was in control of all of this. He could do anything he wanted. He could get you arrested, even. You had to do what he said, not only for your own benefit, but because you adored him. So, you placed a tender kiss right beneath the head, your eyes fluttering closed. Abandoning the t-shirt in your hands, you reached up to softly caress his cock, using your grip to move it up to give you more access to the underside. Your kisses were quite timid at first, but as one lingered against the underside of his shaft, the pulsing you could feel against your lips made your body ache.

Eventually, your kisses became more passionate, even giving light suckles and little kitten licks, teasing the piercing and the sensitive head. Hearing him groan with the attention pulled your eyes up to look at him, a bit surprised to see that his cheeks were quite flushed, and his smirk had faded. Was he really enjoying this?

Bracing himself against the wall with his free hand, Bakugou only further crushed you with his overwhelming presence and dominance, making you pause in worry. “Good girl. Now open your fucking mouth.”

The instant your lips parted wide enough, Bakugou simultaneously pulled your head and pressed his hips forward, shoving his cock into your mouth, the tip stopping at the back of your tongue. Squeaking and groaning in surprise of the forced entry, you clutched on tightly to his thighs, only just having noticed that his shorts had fallen around his feet. His boxers had simply been pushed down out of the way, but the elastic kept them up on his hips for now. You were unable to move, his grip on your hair too tight to pull back. He didn’t want you to do the work?

“That’s it, baby. Keep that mouth nice and open for my cock. You don’t gag easily do you?” You could hear the feigned concern in the question, and the only answer you could give is a furrow of your brow, new tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. “Oh well. Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

It was then that Bakugou began to thrust his hips, fucking your mouth slow and shallow. You were actually surprised that he started out so cautious, but you could tell that the pleasure was beginning to grow quickly. “Fuck babe, you’re such a good little slut for me.” Ever so slightly, he began to thrust faster and deeper, until the tip of his cock was hitting against the back of your throat. You were lucky that you didn’t have a strong gag reflex, as you knew that anyone who did would have already puked all over him. But you could take it. You could take it for him, to let him have his way with you just to stay with him a little longer.

Though, you were finding that it was difficult, breathing in through your nose and trying to distract yourself from the burning in your jaw. Each thrust had your nose touching his pelvis and his balls slapping against your chin, which was coated in drool that dripped freely. It was so difficult to handle him, in fact, that you couldn’t stop the tears from running down your cheeks, only further displacing your already ruined makeup from crying earlier. You were a mess already, but the fire within you didn’t falter. If not for needing to grip onto his thighs to keep you balanced, you would be touching yourself again, the craving for your own pleasure just as suffocating as the dick in your throat.

Still, your struggles were worth it. You got to watch Bakugou’s expression, his brow no longer furrowed in anger but in pleasure, his eyes glazed over with the undying need for release. His face was flushed and sweat was already beginning to drip down along his skin, his body still affected by the intense performance he hadn’t finished not even an hour ago. The way his body moved, muscles tensing and rolling beneath your grip on his thighs. He was so gorgeous.

You had expected him to finish in your mouth, but after some time of fucking your throat raw, he stopped, holding the back of your head as he dug his cock as deep in as he could. You groaned and whined from the pressure, wishing desperately for relief while pushing on his thighs. With his own groan and hiss of pleasure, Bakugou pulled out of your mouth slowly, his smirk returning as he took in the sight of you. “You should see yourself. Filthy. Keep your tongue out.” When he finally removed himself completely, you took in a deep breath, gasping and panting to try and recover from the brutality you had to endure. Your tongue, however, stayed out as he demanded, allowing him to rub the underside of his tip against it.

“You’re fuckin’ hot, you know that? So fucking sexy. I bet you have a nice tight little pussy, too.” After a few rough slaps of his cock against your tongue, he took a step back, stepping out of his shorts as he did so as well as his shoes, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. “Stand the fuck up.”

Swallowing hard, you took the moment of getting to your feet to wipe your chin of the mess of liquids, but you didn’t get much time to steady yourself. Snatched by the arm, Bakugou dragged you over a few feet towards the couch, grabbing you once again by the hair and forcing you down over the armrest. The couch was quite tall, so with your upper body pressed into the cushions and your hips snuggly in place against the armrest, you could barely touch the floor with your tiptoes. It was another uncomfortable position, but you ignored the pressure on your belly as your ass was suddenly exposed to the cold air of the room, your skirt flipped up out of the way.

“Fuck you have a nice ass.” Gripping your backside with both hands firmly, Bakugou squeezed and spread you open, taking in the pleasant view. “What a fucking punk poser you are with these shitty fishnets. They don’t even do shit.” Digging his fingers into the holes along your crotch, he gave a rough yank, ripping the fabric open to give him easy access. “Holy fucking shit, you should see how wet you are, babygirl.”

You whimpered at the feeling of his thumb stroking along your sex, the slick that coated your skin giving him no resistance. You could feel it, all over your inner thighs and aching cunt, but now your favorite person in the entire world could see it, too. He could see how wet he made you, how getting tossed around by him made you feel.

I… I didn’t agree to all of this. I know it isn’t right. I didn’t want it to go this far, but… How can I stop him? Why would I stop him? He’s… I love him so much! I want him to touch me, even though I know I shouldn’t--

Your thoughts were cut off by your own gasp, your body tensing and legs bending at the knee involuntarily at the sudden pleasure that rocked through your body. You knew what it was, his tongue hot and eager against your clit as he ate you out. The sounds of him lapping at your cunt and grunting in delight at the taste of you had your mind spinning, the pleasure devouring your body. Not wanting to be heard by anyone outside, you moaned and gasped into the fabric of the couch cushion, digging your nails into it as you did everything you could to not writhe out of his grip.

You were so sensitive to his touch that you could feel everything, from his nails digging into your hips to the way his tongue piercing slid across your clit. It was as if he knew exactly how to use it to be able to drive you completely insane, the hard metal sending shocks of lightning through your body with each stroke and flick.

“Ba-Bakugou, ahh-!” You tugged and pulled at the couch cushion in your grip, digging the toes of your boots into the floor. “It’s too much! Wait--!”

“Too much? Don’t be such a fucking wimp. You’re my little slut, aren’t you? You can take anything I give you.” As he stood back up, you looked up at him over your shoulder, having to peek through your messy hair to see him. That wicked and excited smirk was back, and you were only able to watch as he gripped your ass in his hands, sliding his cock between your cheeks to coat himself in your essence. “And I know what you want me to give to you. You want my dick inside you, babygirl?”

Immediately, you stomach rolled nervously, eyes on the tip of his cock and the precum dribbling from it. You were on birth control, there wasn’t necessarily anything risky about that, but there was something else that pricked at the back of your mind. If you did this with him, then you knew that you could never settle for another man. You would want him forever, as you always had, but would you ever get a chance like this again? Would you ever even see him again after today?

It doesn’t matter… I’ll do it!

“Yes! Yes, Bakugou, I want you.” You were surprised as he leaned away from you for a moment, though what he was doing was quickly made clear as he came back into full view with a drumstick. The way that it was beaten and chipped told you that it was one he had used that performance, and the other was probably close by, set to be discarded or handed out to fans.

“And why do you want me?” Bakugou dug the stick into your hose, giving a sharp yank to further rip the delicate fabric and expose more of your ass to him fully. “Just because I’m your favorite of the band?”

“No!” You couldn’t help but become defensive. “I… I care about you more than that!” You bit down onto your bottom lip as he began to run the tip of the stick across your skin towards your cunt, mind racing with thoughts of what he was going to do with it. You could still feel and see his cock between your cheeks, hot and pulsing, and you were honestly surprised that he could hold out to tease you this long. Just seeing you like this, bent over and so submissive, was enough to keep him going long enough to torture you a bit.

“You love me? Even though I’ve slapped you, pulled your hair, and fucked your throat until you went hoarse? Even though I have your ass bent over the couch and haven’t given you any more than a few minutes of pleasure?” Suddenly, he brought the stick down hard onto your ass, making you yelp out and tremble beneath him. The pain was so good! You wanted that again, and you received it without having to ask, a moan slipping from your lips.

“Yes! I’ll love you no matter what you do to me! Always! I love it when you throw me around and use me like this! Please, use me more! I’m your little slut, Bakugou--” You were silenced as he leaned over you, his palm pressing into the side of your face and pushing the hair roughly away from obscuring your flushed and teary features. Now with your full attention, Bakugou smirked, narrowing his eyes at you.

“No, no, my pet. Call me by my name.”

The heat that rushed to your face made even his burning palms feel cool, trying to blink the tears away as they rushed down the side of your nose to soak into the couch. Was he being serious? He wanted you to call him by name… by his first name. Something that he never allowed anyone but those close to him to do, and you had seen him on more than one occasion snap at people when they did it. He was huge on respect and feeling dominant over others, so to him, his given name was sacred.

“Ka… Katsuki…” You couldn’t speak any louder than an airy whisper, though his reaction was enough to tell you that he enjoyed it. Smirk growing, Bakugou sat up from over your back, his fingers curling into your ruined hair as he began to rut his hips against you. His cock stroked slowly against your ass, his tip teasingly pressing into your cunt before slipping up back between your cheeks.

“Again.” The drumstick still in his free hand, he brought it down hard onto the already abused and welted cheek, right as your voice had begun to leave your lips.

“Ka-ah! Katsuki!” With another whack, your body instinctively tried to shift away from him, though all it did was off set his cock. His tip slipped into you, making you pause, both from the feeling and from the irritated growl that left his chest.

“What a naughty little bitch, trying to get me to fuck you before I say so.”

“N-no, it was just--”

“-- Well if you want it so fucking bad, I’ll give it to you!” Abandoning your hair and the drumstick, he gripped your hips tightly in both hands, sinking his cock into you with one quick snap of his hips. “I’ll show you who fucking owns you!”

You didn’t have time to think or respond as he began to fuck you, fast and hard. Already, the pleasure was overwhelming, rolling through your body like electricity. It was perfect, everything you had ever imagined and more. The way he filled you up to the absolute brim, not leaving a single inch of you untouched, had the coil in your core tightening so quickly that you couldn’t even think about how to restrain it. You were going to cum very quickly, and you had never wanted to so badly in your life.

“How does my cock feel inside you, slut?”

“G-good,” You struggled to choke out a response behind your moans, which squeaked with surprise as he picked up the pace. “It feels good!”

“You want to cum all over it, don’t you?”

“Yes!”

“Beg for it.”

At first, you couldn’t even comprehend what he was asking you, your mind growing hazy to everything but the pleasure. “I… please!” You reached back, clutching onto his hand tightly, digging your nails into his skin in hopes that it would keep him latched to you. “Please! Please let me cum, Katsuki! I want to cum all over your cock! I love it!”

When the pleasure stopped, all you could do was sit there in shock, the emptiness you felt as he pulled out of you making your stomach sink. Had you said the wrong thing? Before you could really ask him, you were grabbed by the elbows and lifted up off the couch, your body flipped so you were sitting on the armrest with your legs now loosely hooked around his hips. In the next moment, his strong arms were around your body, one hooked around your hips to pull them snug against his own while the other supported your upper body. What shocked you more than that was the fierceness of his lips against yours, kissing you with intense passion and aggressiveness that you couldn’t help but to give in.

Wrapping your arms around his torso, you moaned and gasped softly into the kiss, his hips once again rutting against yours to stroke his length against your clit. For a moment, things seemed to feel different than they had during this entire experience. It wasn’t as if he were using you anymore, doing everything entirely for his own benefit. Instead, his touch was attentive, caressing you and moving your body into position without force. Even the way he kissed you was quick to change, from dominating your mouth to a more tender sweetness. You didn’t ever want it to end, but you allowed it when he pulled away, gazing up into his piercing crimson gaze as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“I want to see that pretty face when you cum.” The growl against your lips was teetering on threatening, as if he were warning you to not even think about turning away or hiding your face in his shoulder. “I want to see how good my cock makes you feel, baby. So cum all over it like a good girl.” As he began to sink his cock into you slowly, you couldn’t control your reactions to it, Your eyes rolling back and fluttering closed as he bottomed out inside you, even biting down onto your bottom lip as you whined.

“Yes, Katsuki--” Your voice hitched as he began to thrust into you again, his cock reaching even deeper inside you that it had been before. “--Please watch my face… See how happy you make me!”

“That’s right, you slut. That’s because you belong to me, don’t you? You’d do anything for me.” As he fucked you, he relied on your grip on him to keep you up, both of his hands moving to grip your hips again. As the pleasure began to boil, you dug your nails into his back, your voice spiking as he became rougher with the added pain.

“Yes! Yes, anything! I’ll be your little slut forever, Katsuki! Just please don’t stop!” It was impossible to tear your eyes away from his even if you wanted to, but it was more than just the fact that they were intoxicating. He may have wanted to watch your face for the visual expressions of pleasure, but he didn’t realize that his demand to keep your eyes on him gave away more than he probably had expected to. There was no anger or frustration that you had seen before. Instead, he seemed absolutely overwhelmed with the pleasure himself, just as you were, and the flushing of his cheeks paired with his upwards furrowed brow gave him almost a… desperate look. Like he was pushing himself to make sure he was fucking you as well as he possibly could.

Was he feeling some self-consciousness about all of this, too? Or regret for pushing you to this, unwillingly at first? You didn’t know, and you knew in the end he wouldn’t tell you if you asked.

“Fucking hell, babygirl, your pussy is so fucking tight,” Bakugou pressed his forehead against yours again, wrapping his arms back around your waist to hold you closer, both to the edge of the armrest and his body. “You’re the best fuck I’ve had in months. I hope you’re ready for my cum all over that pretty face--”

“No!” You moved your arms to wrap around his neck instead, one hand pressing against the back of his head with fingers tangled in his hair. “Come inside me! Please, Katsuki, I want you to fill me up! It’s okay--” Your voice cracked with a cry of pleasure, your encouragement pushing him to fuck you harder and deeper.

“Then cum for me, bitch. Cum all over my cock.”

With that command, you couldn’t hold the coil still any longer. It shattered with his movements inside you, each rough hit of his tip against your cervix only prolonging your orgasm and sending wave after wave of harsh pleasure through your body. Trembling, you squeezed onto him tightly, clutching a fist full of his hair and kissing him roughly, moaning and sighing softly into the kiss as he didn’t give you a moment to breathe. Within moments after your climax, his thrusts became slower and erratic, before he was finally able to release.

Groaning and cursing against your lips, Bakugou kept his gaze locked with yours, not giving you any room to move or pull back as he came inside you. How hot it was coating your walls made you shiver, squeezing his hips with your thighs and pulling yourself in closer. It was an incredible high, and as you both came down from it together, you both loosened your grip on each other.

For a moment, you stayed connected, your head on his shoulder with your forehead pressed against his neck, able to feel his pulse against your skin and his chest heaving against yours. Had all of this really just happened? You were pressed up against your crush, his arms wrapped around you with one large hand stroking up and down your back softly. It was so strange compared to his aggressive demeanor just moments before. You knew that it should have made you happy, but instead, all it did was confuse you, and you felt a new wave of tears rush down your flushed cheeks.

Able to feel your tears run down his chest, Bakugou gave a click of his tongue, prying you off him with little pressure. In the same moment, he slipped his semi flaccid dick from within your still aching cunt, pulling his boxers back into place to cover himself. “Fucking crying again? Seriously?”

Steadying yourself on the armrest with your hands, you kept your gaze downcast, squeezing your legs together as you could feel his cum beginning to leak out. “I’m sorry, Bakugou, I just--”

“--Katsuki!”

His loud correction made you jump, looking up at his face in shock as he glowered down at you. His cheeks were still flushed red, but you were unsure if it was from the exertion of what you had just done or from something else. Reaching over, Bakugou wiped your cheeks roughly with his thumbs, before giving you a bump to the bottom of your chin, as if telling you to cheer up. “I already fucking told you, psycho fan. Katsuki.”

“Right. I… should I leave now?”

Unsure of what to do with yourself, you stared up at Bakugou expectantly, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. With another click of his tongue, Bakugou bent over and snatched the forgotten drum stick up off the floor, taking a few steps away towards the vanity that was neatly organized with what you assumed he wore during a performance. Picking up what looked like a marker, Bakugou wrote something on the thick end of the drumstick, before presenting it to you. “Here.”

Feeling your throat begin to close up as nerves began to take hold of you, it took you a moment to even find the courage to look at the stick, scared of what he might have written on it. Of course, it was probably just his autograph, which he had promised you at the beginning of all this. There wasn’t much time to look at it, though, before Bakugou huffed, shoving it against your chest and forcing you to grab it. “Take the damn thing!”

Body still feeling quite weak, you squeaked as you fell backwards onto the couch from his push, clutching the drumstick tightly. You could see the tips of Bakugou’s ears flush as he scoffed, pointing towards the door that led out into the hallway. It was… cute.

“Will you get out! Fuck, you’ve wasted enough of my time for now, go back to your friends!”

For now…?

Sitting up, you took a moment to fix your hair and wipe your face again, using the edge of your shirt to help you. “Do I look clean enough?”

“You look just as fucking hot as you did when I first walked in. Now you better fucking leave, and I expect you to do what I say.” Walking over towards his pile of laundry, Bakugou picked up the shirt he had caught you with, tossing it at you and hitting you in the face. “And take that shit with you! You like it so much; you can have it.”

Clutching both of your new prized possessions close to your chest, you hopped up like an excited child, smiling wide and squealing as you hopped towards the door. “Aahh, thank you, Katsuki! Thank you! I’m… sorry again for intruding…”

“Yeah, and I’m sorry for the welts on your ass. Now fuck off!” Bakugou barked again, trying to rush you out for whatever reason. Stepping outside, you couldn’t help but take a moment to lean back against the wall when the door shut, breathing heavily and blushing fiercely. In truth, you weren’t sure what to make of that entire endeavor, thrown into a confusing mix of shame, embarrassment, arousal, and longing. You shouldn’t have done that, and yet, you just didn’t want to leave his side.

“Got a little lost, didn’t ya, babe?”

The squeal that left your lips was quickly doused by the t-shirt in your hand, jumping and nearly slamming yourself back against the wall in shock of the unexpected voice. Standing across the hall was Kirishima, whose presence you were surprised you didn’t notice immediately. The mischievous smirk on his lips quickly widened into a pleasant grin, uncrossing his arms and pushing himself off the wall to stand up straight. Had he been waiting for you to come out?

“You skipped the bathroom, you know! It’s down that way. I decided to come look for you before we were forced to call security guards, but I guess Bakugou found you first.”

“A-ah, sorry! I… saw him go in his room and I just wanted an autograph.” Holding your treasures close to your chest, your stomach rolled nervously as Kirishima leaned in closer, his eyes locked on the visible part of the drumstick.

“Aahh, I get it! Bakugou can be kind of a jerk, I’m surprised! But uh… if you want to convince anyone else that you were just getting an autograph, you should really go to the bathroom. I’m sure Bakugou didn’t give you a mirror, but you look like you had a real good time.” You could hear the tone in his voice lower from friendly to flirtatious, and you quickly tried to fix your hair.

“H-he told me I looked fine!”

“To him you probably do. May I?” Still grinning with a friendly disposition, you glanced at both of Kirishima’s hands as he held them up in an offering of help, before nodding timidly. He began to run his rough fingers through your hair, fixing it back into a state of normalcy with a tender touch that was so opposite to what you had just experienced with Bakugou. “You’re cute. I can see why he was so into you right away.”

“That isn’t… normal for him?” Your eyes glanced over Kirishima’s exposed muscular arms and sides, the deep cut in the arms of his tank showing all the way to his hips. You thought you saw his smile turn sly out of the corner of your eye, but you couldn’t be sure.

“Nah sweetheart. Bakugou might be a lot of things, but he doesn’t go for random chicks.” Seemingly satisfied, Kirishima also used his thumbs to wipe your cheeks and under your eyes. “Such a messy thing.”

“Thank you, Kirishima… I’m… I’m really sorry for causing you trouble.” Your heartbeat grew heavier as the redhead in front of you didn’t step back, towering over you just as the blonde had. “I’ll go to the restroom and then... Back to the group.”

With a chuckle, Kirishima nodded, tapping the end of the drumstick a few times. “You do that! I’ll meet you back there, just going to have a few words with our drummer. Careful with this stuff, yeah? Someone might just try to take it.”

“I will…”

“Go on, then, scoot.” With a nudge, you were pushed forward down the hall gently, only taking a moment to look back at the pleasant smiling man behind you. He was so different from Bakugou and yet they were the closest friends in the band. You knew that Bakugou was going to tell him everything, and you could only hope that it was going to end up a positive conversation. You hated the thought of Kirishima spending the rest of the VIP visit looking at you in disgust, or even the possibility of him putting you down in front of everyone.

Flustered, you scurried down the hall into the bathroom, slipping into a stall. After pushing down what was left of your hoes and your drenched thong, you plopped to sit, relieving yourself as you held the t-shirt and drumstick close to your chest. Though, it dawned on you that you hadn’t even looked at what Bakugou had written on the stick, so growing curious, you held it with both hands and spun it slowly to look over every inch. The ridges, dents, and splints in the wood were marks of every beat Bakugou had played, a solid crack down the middle representing just how powerful he was.

In truth, you felt like that drumstick. You were always a splintered person, emotionally broken and splintered off from the world. And yet, Bakugou had touched you with his passion. But did that mean that you were truly broken now? Could you ever be used again by any other person, or would you snap into pieces the instant your heart tried to find its beat again?

Eyes tearing up, you tried to blink them away, carefully running your finger along the crack until it met with a smudge of black writing. Unlike what you expected, there was no autograph. Instead, the words “Call Me” were scribbled in the black ink, along with a series of numbers.

Is that… his cell phone number?! It’s different from what I had found… Those must have been fakes.

Reaching down into your boot, you pulled out your phone, having placed it there for safe keeping, though you were surprised it stayed in place the entire time in Bakugou’s room. Without an ounce of hesitation, you created his contact and started a message, sending it so quickly you didn’t even consider the consequences, though his words did ring in your ear loud enough to make you think he was right beside you.

“Now you better fucking leave, and I expect you to do what I say.”

He said to call him, but… texting is the same, right?

Me 10:45 pm: Katsuki?

Bakugou 10:47 pm: hey babygirl. ever been to an after party?

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