#i like the idea of bite size fics that are just stupid shit these two decided to record | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

boulevardk · 3 years

Text

Gimme Gimme (m). Part One.

Preview: Jaehyun bites his lip and looks you up and down once more, “All in due time, little one.”

Facade breaking momentarily, you cover your face with your hands as you feel the blood rush to your cheeks. Taeyong smiles brightly at the action, taking in your cuteness and mirroring a similar blush on his cheeks. Smiling at the exchange, Taeyong nods to you and hurriedly walks out of the room to quickly retrieve the paperwork for your adoption.

However, your action elicits a very different response from Jaehyun who smirks at your sudden shyness. Maybe she’s not as bold as we thought. It’s going to be so much fun to break her.

Pairing: nct 127 x black panther hybrid (f)

Genre: Hybrid AU, PWP, idolverse, M/F, smut (a lot of smut oh lord), series

Word count: 6k

warnings: this is actually pretty tame ngl idk like mentions of corruption and size kinks, jaehyun's horny, and that's about it

a/n: lmao i used to hear so much shit about hybrid and abo content from my friends but i have been obsessed with @neopuppy’s Boom series and I got her permission to write a 127 spinoff series! Idk how many parts this will be so bear with me okay thx bye and please enjoy! Check out her fics by the way bc i love her <3

Jay

---

The bathroom door rattled beneath Doyoung’s fist as he pounded on the door, “Fuck’s sake, Haechan! You’ve been in there for an hour now!”

Running a hand through his hair in frustration, Doyoung groaned, “Can you believe this? It’s a miracle our water bill hasn’t bankrupted the company.”

Taeyong just sighed from his position on the couch as he flipped through a magazine, “Hey, it's either long showers or some random girl’s annoying moans echoing through the dorm.”

Rolling his eyes, Doyoung leaned against the wall, “Don’t be stupid. There’s no way the company would risk a dating rumor just for us to get our dicks wet.”

“Ha, don't I know it,” Johnny scoffs as he walks into the room, “My dick might just shrivel up and fall off at this point.”

“Okay,” Taeyong closes his eyes briefly, “Not the image I wanted in my brain.”

Johnny jokingly winked and wiggled his eyebrows at the leader as he took a seat in the chair across from him.

“I don’t even know why Haechan is always locking himself away in the bathroom to jerk off. I mean, didn’t Dream get a bunny hybrid for this exact reason?”

Taeyong frowned, “I have no idea why they did that. Ethical dilemmas aside, aren’t they way too busy to even care for a hybrid? What are they supposed to do when she goes into heat? There’s no way they have that much energy to look after her- especially after practice.”

Johnny just shrugs, “Haechan mentioned something about her not having her first heat when she was adopted. I bet it was intense when it finally hit. It didn't help that she’s already matured… You two should just be glad that your roommate doesn’t lock you out of your room to get off. Jaehyun tells me how Jungwoo’s always kicking him out to yank his dick.”

“Again,” Taeyong groans, “Not the mental image I wanted.”

Johnny blows a kiss his way.

“Thank God,” Doyoung mutters as he finally hears the water shut off.

The bathroom door opens abruptly and steam comes billowing out as Haechan comes forwards with a towel around his waist, having heard the conversation of his housemates, “You guys don’t even understand. Believe me, I have been with a lot of hot girls before-”

“Much to everyone’s surprise,” Doyoung mutters under his breath.

Haechan just shoots the older boy a glare and continues, “Anyways, I’ve been with a lot of hot girls before, but hybrids are on a whole other level. Once you go hybrid, you never go back.”

Taeyong grimaces, “You’re sick, Haechan. They’re people too, and they have real, valid emotions. They’re not just toys for your own amusement.”

The youngest smirks, “Yeah, that’s what Renjun said, and now my bunny is calling him Daddy as he fucks her stupid.”

“Wasn’t Jaehyun asking to get a hybrid?” Johnny chimes in.

Doyoung furrows his eyebrows in thought, “I mean, it would solve our dry spell problem…”

Taeyong tosses his magazine onto the couch in frustration, “Are you guys even listening to a word I’m saying? What? Is this hybrid going to be our own personal sex slave or something?”

Haechan squints his eyes at that comment, “I mean, yeah. That’s kind of the whole idea here, Taeyong. Haven’t you been paying attention?”

Shooting him a glare, Taeyong continues, “How would that even work? One hybrid for nine guys to share? I know hybrids can be pretty insatiable during their heats, but are we going to have an orgy every time we wanna have sex?”

Taeyong asked the question as if the answer was an obvious ‘no’, but Johnny shrugged, “I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Doyoung shakes his head, “Hell no. Believe it or not, but not everyone wants to see your dick, Johnny. We’ll just work out some sort of schedule for sharing her. Like half a week she spends on the upper floor and the other half she spends here with us. We'll work something out."

Although Doyoung wasn’t entirely against the idea of polygamy, he didn’t want his first time with a hybrid to be in front of eight other guys.

The leader takes a quick moment to ponder it. It would be nice to get laid every once in and a while… The smartest option was to at least be involved with the hybrid adoption just to make sure everything went smoothly. The last thing the group needed was a rumor to be leaked that they were adopting their own personal sex toy. God knows they’ve had enough scandals already…

“Fine,” Taeyong conceded, “But we'll have to have some ground rules. Jaehyun and I will go to the adoption center to pick out a hybrid. But you all have to promise me we’re going to be responsible about this. That means looking after our hybrid’s needs beyond the sexual.”

“Agreed,” Doyoung and Johnny answer.

Haechan nods and interjects, “All I know is that I call first dibs on her if she’s a virgin because I still can’t believe Renjun got to fuck my bunny before I did… I wasn’t even there when her preheat kicked in! And from what Jeno told me, it sounded like she was cumming practically from kissing alone!”

“That must be good for your sake,” Johnny snorts, “because you can’t make a girl cum for shit.”

Haechan fumes and opens his mouth to retaliate before Taeyong can cut him off, “I’ll go give the upper floor the news…” Taeyong began, “Although, I’m sure the other members would probably get their own hybrid even if I disapproved.”

---

“This wig is itchy as fuck,” Jaehyun complained as he and Taeyong entered the adoption center.

Taeyong rolled his eyes, “Well, tough shit, because the last thing we need is to be spotted adopting a hybrid. It’s not like our company would defend us anyways; you know how they are.”

The younger boy just sighed at the comment. He knew full-heartedly that Taeyong’s comments were true, but that didn’t make his disguise any more comfortable.

They both stood at the front desk and waited to be seen by the receptionist. Although they both tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible, they probably drew more attention to themselves by their endless fidgeting as their nerves took hold.

Jaehyun was about to complain again about his discomfort before being interrupted by the man working the front desk.

“Hello, how may I help you, gentlemen? The man asked politely.

“Um- hello,” Taeyong cleared his throat, clearly anxious about the whole situation, “We, uh… You see, we...”

Jaehyun cut him off, “We have an appointment to view your hybrids up for adoption,” Jaehyun cut the older boy off.

The man nods and types away at the computer in front of him, gesturing with his hand for the two boys to follow him, “Ah, yes, of course. Right, this way,”

The two boys share a glance; Taeyong’s eyes filled with nervousness and Jaehyun’s filled with excitement.

“We have a wide array of hybrids. Tigers, puppies, leopards… Hell, we even have otter hybrids if you’re really interested! They’re quite rare, really,” The man trails off, “We had some young men a couple of weeks ago who adopted an adult bunny hybrid who hadn’t even had her first heat yet! Ah, I feel quite sorry for those boys, actually. I imagine those poor boys are being eaten alive by that girl’s appetite…”

Taeyong and Jaehyun look at each other with widened eyes.

“Luckily for you two gentlemen, we have since added to our selection, and I’m sure we have some hybrids here who are more suitable for your needs.”

Taeyong nods once more at the information. He always knew that there were a lot of rules for adopting a hybrid, but who could have guessed that there would be such a wide variety of hybrids to choose from.

“Very well, gentlemen,” the receptionist claps his hands, “if there is nothing else you need, I will leave your search. Please let me know if you require anything else.

Jaehyun and Taeyong both thank the helpful man and look towards each other when they are left alone.

“What do you think?” Taeyong asks.

Jaehyun sighs, “I think we have our work cut out for us.”

---

As soon as Taeyong stepped inside, he felt sweat gather in the palms of his hands. While Jaehyun walked normally down the hallway, pausing occasionally to drool at passing hybrids, Taeyong timidly crept down the hallway and fought the urge not to jump from the hybrids who looked at him as if he was some meal for them to eat. From the research Taeyong had done about hybrids beforehand, he knew hybrids attacking and eating humans was exceedingly rare, but that didn’t stop him from shying away from some of the hybrids who looked like they could chew him up and spit him out.

As he walked down the aisle, he gazed at the plaques of information for each hybrid.

Tiger hybrid

Age: 22

Height: 5’11”

Information: Removed from their previous home due to violent behavior towards the owner.

Taeyong’s eyes widened in shock and he gasped when the tiger hybrid snarled at him. He quickly walked away from the plexiglass enclosure.

His eyes wandered over to another hybrid.

Wolf hybrid

Age: 27

Height: 5’7”

Information: Highly disobedient and bratty towards facility employees. Playful, yet unaware of boundaries.

The description had Taeyong shaking his head. They needed someone reliable. In order for this whole ordeal to work, they had to find a hybrid who could adapt to their busy schedules.

Jaehyun strolled down the aisle beside Taeyong and looked at the hybrids around him. Maybe it was just because of how horny he had been recently and how desperate he was to get laid, but Jaehyun was eye-fucking practically every hybrid he passed.

He stopped to look at a leopard hybrid who was staring seductively at him through the plexiglass enclosure.

Leopard hybrid

Age: 19

Height: 5’6”

Information: Removed from their previous home after being caught stealing possessions from their owner and running away repeatedly.

Jaehyun bit his lip when he saw the hybrid wink at him and seductively lick her lips.

As desperate as he was to adopt the nearest hybrid and fuck her in the backseat of his car, he knew Taeyong would disapprove of this hybrid’s behavior. Jaehyun could just imagine the newspaper headlines and tabloid frenzies that would explode if they foolishly adopted this hybrid. And as tempting as she was, this hybrid was not worth the hassle… even though Jaehyun was certain she’d be a good fuck.

He mouths ‘sorry’ to the Leopard hybrid and moves on.

Taeyong continues down the hallway, making sure to read all the hybrid information carefully so he can make an informed, responsible decision about which one to adopt. Although Jaehyun’s requirements were practically limited to fuckability and ass and tit size, Taeyong knew he wasn’t leaving with a hybrid who was incompatible with their lifestyles.

Jaehyun stops beside the older boy and also reads the plaque before them.

Golden retriever hybrid

Age: 19

Height: 5’10”

Information: Returned for chewing on furniture and biting owner

Jaehyun grimaced. He was looking for a hybrid to fuck, not a hybrid to clean up after.

The further he walked down the aisle, the more intimated Taeyong got from some of the hybrids he was surrounded by. He had to find the perfect match for his housemates, otherwise, there would be no point in adopting a hybrid anyways.

Taeyong was about to reach the end of the hallway when he stopped to read the information of a hybrid who caught his eye.

“Hey, Jaehyun,” Taeyong waved the boy over, “Come look at this one.”

Black Panther hybrid

Age: 23

Height: 5’4”

Information: Recently rescued from the tropical rainforests of Southeast Asia, this hybrid is smart and mature for her age. Low maintenance, well-mannered, and personable, she is surprisingly docile for her hybrid breed.

Taeyong tilted his head to the side in curiosity. She seemed like a compatible hybrid, but he wanted to formally meet her before he got his hopes up.

Jaehyun joined Taeyong before the hybrid enclosure of interest and after reading the description, leaned a bit closer to see the disclaimer written in tinier font below the initial information.

WARNING: BECAUSE SHE WAS RECENTLY RESCUED AND NOT BRED IN CAPTIVITY, IT IS UNCLEAR WHETHER THIS HYBRID HAS HAD HER FIRST HEAT. THERE IS A CHANCE SHE MAY BE VERY SEXUALLY DEMANDING. THIS CAN BE POTENTIALLY EXHAUSTING ESPECIALLY CONSIDERING THAT OUR STAFF HAS NOT BEEN ABLE TO DETERMINE WHETHER THIS HYBRID HAS EVER BEEN EXPOSED TO SEXUAL ACTS.

Jaehyun couldn’t believe his luck.

After a drunken game of truth or dare, Jaehyun had accidentally revealed his corruption kink. And, of course, his members never failed to tease him about it. Getting laid period was hard enough as it is, but fucking a virgin was practically impossible. Jaehyun never had the time to properly corrupt a one-time hookup.

This was his chance. And Jaehyun felt like he could adopt her just by that information alone.

Once Taeyong had read the warning, he audibly gulped and shakily gestured for the facility's security to open the door for him. He approached the door and knocked thrice, wanting to demonstrate his respect for the hybrid's boundaries.

“Just follow my lead,” Taeyong muttered to Jaehyun who was practically vibrating in excitement, “Don’t do or say anything rash; you might scare her away.”

Jaehyun takes one look into the enclosure and just looks over to Taeyong with widened eyes, “She looks like that, and you expect me not to just bend her over and take her right there?”

Taeyong groans, “You’re an idiot. I really hope that was a joke.”

He mostly says it to himself because he knows that Jaehyun is so desperate to get laid that he might actually fuck a hybrid- not only in the adoption facility but even in the glass enclosure with everyone to see.

Taeyong places his hand on the doorknob and makes his way in slowly.

He lets himself in and feels Jaehyun stand beside him after passing through the doorway. The first thing he notices is that you're painting your nails a fierce shade of blood red. You hum a tune to yourself as you concentrate on your task.

Taeyong looked around the room and was pleasantly surprised to see the tidiness of the room. Some of the other hybrids’ rooms were disorderly and messy, but your room was well put together. You were sitting on a neatly made bed, and as Taeyong looked around the room, he noticed a small bookshelf with genres clearly labeled.

They really were right about you being well-mannered.

“Hello,” Taeyong nearly stuttered, “I’m Taeyong.”

You looked up from your nails, gave him a small smile, and nodded your head, “It’s nice to meet you Taeyong.”

Returning your gaze to your nails, you continue to hum the melody from before.

“Um,” Taeyong stutters, nervous about what the first impression he’ll make on you, “May... may we talk to you?”

You smirk down at your drying polish, “Isn’t that what we’re already doing?”

Taeyong blushes at your forwardness and shoots an uneasy look at Jaehyun, unsure of how to proceed in the conversation.

Jaehyun rolls his eyes at the boy. So much for following his lead.

The younger boy steps forward, now closer to where you sit on your bed. The closer he gets to you, The more his eyes take in your appearance. Sitting criss-cross on your bed, you were wearing a tiny white skirt and a red tank top. When his eyes focus on your upper legs, he could even see the smallest glimpse of your underwear, and he has to fight the urge not to take you right there.

Jaehyun clears his throat to get your attention, “I’m Jaehyun. It’s really nice to meet you, kitty.”

Your attention was effectively caught. Looking up from your nails quickly, Jaehyun swore he saw your bright green eyes sparkle.

“Kitty?” You ask him, getting up from your spot on your bed and walking over to him slowly.

Taeyong began to backtrack, “I- I’m sorry; we didn’t mean to offend you in any way-”

“It’s quite alright,” you smile once you finally reach the taller boy, bringing your hand up to softly brush his cheek, “I like the way the name comes from his lips.”

As quickly as you had touched his face, your hand is back at your side and you’re walking over to sit at your desk.

Taeyong chuckles nervously, his brain having trouble functioning with your confidence, and he wasn’t even the one you’d touched. He shakes his head slightly to regain his composure, “My housemates and I were looking to adopt a hybrid. I live with a group of guys, and we all work together. We would always provide for you, and you’d never have to worry about being mistreated… Does that sound like something you’d be interested in?”

You tilt your head to the side as if to ponder the thought for a moment.

Taeyong’s on edge worried he hadn’t gained your approval and that you’d turn down his offer. It didn’t help that your smell was intoxicating to him. He wasn’t nearly as close to you as Jaehyun is (partially because he was worried about invading your personal space but also because he was worried he might get hard by just the sheer smell of you alone) but your perfume and appearance were practically putting him into a trace.

Although you knew you came across as sultry and sexy, you had to focus your heart on not beating out of your chest.

You may be naive for your age, but you knew what Jaehyun and Taeyong were offering you. It wasn’t uncommon for hybrids to be adopted purely for sexual needs alone. In fact, many of the friends you had made in your short time at the facility had been adopted for similar purposes. Just a couple of weeks ago, the bunny hybrid across from you had been adopted by two boys for the same purpose.

It was no understatement to say you wanted to escape the hybrid facility by any means necessary. While the facility in itself was fine, you knew that the longer time you spent in captivity meant the less likely you were to be adopted. So, naturally, you knew that you had to pounce on the opportunity before you.

There’s just one problem.

You had never exactly… done that sort of thing before. Truth be told, you didn’t really know much about... that sort of thing at all.

When you had been rescued and brought to the facility, you had heard the debate among hybrid researchers as to whether or not you had already experienced your first heat. Some had suggested that you more than likely had already gone through your first heat purely based on your age alone. Other researchers theorized that your first heat could have been offset because of some trauma you may have experienced before your rescue. Either way, there was no conclusive test or procedure that would provide an answer to the question.

You, yourself, weren’t even sure if you had gone through heat yet. Your limited amount of knowledge about the topic hindered your understanding of your own body.

It didn’t help that it wasn’t exactly an...easy conversation to have.

You’d always find yourself blushing profusely and scurrying to another room whenever hybrids around you would mention the topic of heats.

Unbeknownst to you, Taeyong was having a similar sort of internal debate within his own head. Taeyong feared he had overstepped his boundaries. Perhaps he was too forward with his suggestion, or maybe Jaehyun’s obvious ogling at your chest had made you (understandably) uncomfortable.

Meanwhile, as you and Taeyong both overanalyzed every word of the encounter so far, Jaehyun was too busy thinking about what it’s like to fuck you until you forgot your own name.

Looking over your body while you contemplated their adoption offer, Jaehyun inspected your size. He was sure he could fuck you standing up and not even break a sweat.

The thought alone turned Jaehyun on more than it should have. He could imagine your tiny little pussy wrapped around his cock while your stomach bulges as he pounds into you-

“I like the sound of that. Honestly, I’m surprised you even asked in the first place,” you replied, effectively cutting off the train of thoughts for both boys.

Taeyong was shocked you had actually agreed. After all, while Jaehyun was thinking about how sweet you’d taste on his lips, Taeyong had been preparing himself for your rejection less than a minute ago.

The surprised boy snaps himself out of his daze and replies perhaps over-enthusiastically, “Great! Um- I guess I’ll go get the paperwork! Thank you so much!”

You just smile at his happiness, “I think I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

Jaehyun bites his lip and looks you up and down once more, “All in due time, little one.”

However, your action elicits a very different response from Jaehyun who smirks at your sudden shyness.

Maybe she’s not as bold as we thought. It’s going to be so much fun to break her.

---

“Hey!” Doyoung half shouts at the members, “I thought I told you not to crowd the door!”

Haechan snorts, “Yeah, we heard you. We just don’t care.”

The other members laugh at the youngest’s statement while Doyoung just huffs, “You’re going to scare her if the first thing she sees when she walks into the dorm is a bunch of drooling boys fighting each other to get their dicks wet.”

While Taeyong and Jaehyun were away at the adoption center, Doyoung had been studying hybrids on this phone. He had learned that hybrids could be very sensitive to stimulation- especially scent.

Although Taeyong and Jaehyun hadn’t answered his text asking about what type of hybrid they had gotten specifically and/or how sensitive the hybrid’s senses were, Doyoung knew the last thing a hybrid wanted when they first entered an environment was a group of sex-hungry boys.

Mark furrowed his eyebrows, “Maybe we shouldn’t overwhelm her when she gets here. Maybe Doyoung is right.”

Doyoung throws his hands up in frustration, “Of course I’m right!”

Haechan just flips the older member off and turns towards an anxious-looking Mark, “Trust me, dude. If this hybrid is anything like my bunny, then she’ll be begging for cock almost immediately after she gets a taste of us.”

Mark blushes at the comment while Doyoung just groans.

Johnny takes a seat on the couch next to Yuta and Taeil, “You need to relax, Doyoung. I’m sure this hybrid knew what she was signing up for when she met Taeyong and Jaehyun. I mean, Jaehyun isn’t exactly discreet when he’s eye-fucking someone.”

Yuta nods in agreement, “Yeah, and if we’re being honest, it would be a miracle if Taeyong didn’t pop a boner just by looking at her. Jaehyun texted me after they paid for her adoption, and he said she’s totally worth every penny.”

“She better be,” Taeil mutters, “She was expensive as fuck.”

Doyoung’s eyes widen when he processes Yuta’s comment, “Wait! They texted you about her? They wouldn’t answer my texts!”

Yuta just shrugs as he scrolls through his phone again, “Maybe you’re just annoying.”

Haechan raises his hand, “I’ll have to agree.”

Doyoung groans even louder now and Johnny pulls his arm down, making the younger boy sit on the couch beside him, “They’re just kidding, Doyoung. You’re a nice kind of annoying.”

Glaring at the second oldest, Doyoung curses at him.

“I’m just kidding!” Johnny laughs, “You’re just got a bunch of pent-up stress in you. And some freaky hybrid sex will take your mind off it.”

“Yeah,” Taeil agrees, “Why stress the fuck out when you can fuck the stress out?”

Yuta raises a hand and high fives Taeil without even looking up from his phone.

Doyoung opens his mouth to retaliate when a door down the hall opens and a nicely dressed Jungwoo steps out from the bathroom.

“What are you wearing? Are you going to a funeral? Did someone die or something?” Yuta asks, finally looking up from his phone.

“What? Of course not,” Jungwoo rolls his eyes at Yuta’s comment, “I just wanted to put something nice on for the hybrid I’m about to fuck into next week.”

Haechan begins coughing as Jungwoo approaches the rest of the group, “Dude, what the fuck? Why do you smell?”

Mark inhales as well and begins waving his hand in front of his face as his eyes tear up, “You smell like you walked into a cologne store and dumped every bottle over your head.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Jungwoo rolls his eyes, “Obviously I didn’t do that. I just wanted to look and smell nice for my hybrid.”

“Our hybrid,” Johnny corrects.

Haechan leans against the wall beside the door, “Oh, and just so we’re clear, I’m going to be the first one to fuck our hybrid- virgin or not. And if any one of you disagrees, I will end you.”

“Yeah,” Johnny laughs as he side eyes with Yuta, “Sure thing, Haechan.”

Doyoung cuts off Haechan before he’s about to curse Johnny out, “Anyways, Jungwoo, you clearly know nothing about hybrids. They have a really sensitive sense of smell. And if first impressions are as important to hybrids as they are to humans, then she’ll want to stay as far away from you as possible.”

Jungwoo’s eyes widen in shock, “Fuck.”

Before Jungwoo can run into the bathroom and shower as quickly as humanly possible, the sound of keys jingling at the door draws all the members’ attention to the front of the dorm.

Taeyong and Jaehyun step in first and the other members make a hand motion to move out of the way so that they can get a better look at their new hybrid. As soon as the two boys move out of the way, the group gets a good look at the savior from their dry spell.

“Holy-” Taeil doesn’t even finish his comment as his eyes scan over your figure.

Mark finally understands Yuta’s comments about how easily Taeyong would get a boner while looking at the hybrid currently standing in the doorway.

You're hot as fuck.

A lot of things are going through your mind as you step foot in the dorm. First, you’re surprised to see just how many boys Taeyong and Jaehyun lived with. You knew they were split between two floors, of course. But nine boys was a lot no matter how they were split.

The next thing you noticed was how attractive each boy was. It was like looking at a group of supermodels. And you felt yourself grow nervous at the thought of being alone with them.

The final thing that passed your mind was the curiosity of what they might want to do to you. You tried your best not to gulp as the boys stared at you like a piece of meat.

You felt your hands tremble, and you hid behind Taeyong slightly, having already grown somewhat comfortable in his presence. Although you had met Jaehyun at the adoption center as well, the way he looked at you made your stomach feel like it was in knots…. Although you couldn’t quite understand why considering you had never felt that way before.

“Aw, would you look at that?” Haechan cooed in a teasing tone, “She’s shy. Reminds me of another girl I know…”

Doyoung, having stood up from his spot on the couch and walked over to the youngest while the door began to open, jabbed him in the ribs. The only thing worse than overstimulation of senses during this first interaction would be if Haechan brought up the other hybrid he’d turned into his sex slave.

Johnny slowly got up from his place on the couch and approached the shy hybrid, “Hey there, I’m Johnny.”

The second oldest extended his hand for the pretty hybrid before his eyes to shake, but you just looked at his hand and back up at his face.

Internally, you knew that these men would see right through your confident facade if you couldn’t even meet them without being shy. You worried that if you weren't... sexually experienced, the boys would send you back to the facility and adopt another hybrid.

It didn’t help your nerves that all the men were so attractive. You had known hybrids in the facility who were pretty, sure, but these men were like gods compared to anyone you had ever seen before- human or hybrid.

You swallowed your anxiety and stuck out a shaky hand towards the man who had just introduced himself, “I-it’s nice to meet you, Johnny.”

It took everything for Taeyong not to coo at your cuteness. While the other members were mainly looking forward to fucking your brains out, Taeyong couldn’t help but see you as his little toy- and not in a sexual way. Rather, he saw you as his little doll. He just wanted to cradle you in his arms and play with your pretty hair. He wanted to dress you up in pretty clothes and dust your cheeks in an even prettier blush.

Haechan nearly shoved Johnny out of the way and introduced himself to you, “Hey there, gorgeous. I’m looking forward to playing with you.”

Your cheeks heated up again at that comment, and you gulped audibly. Doyoung wanted to slap the youngest member for saying that. In all honesty, Doyoung wanted to slap Haechan for most things.

All the members introduced themselves. Some members were sweet and gentle like Taeyong while other members gave off similar impressions as Jaehyun. Either way, regardless of how they introduced themselves, you knew they’d soon be expecting more out of you than just a handshake.

The member you were most intimidated by was a Japanese man by the name of Yuta. You remembered his introduction most clearly from the words he spoke to you as he brushed his hand against your cheek, moving a piece of hair from your face.

“We’re gonna have so much fun together. I can already tell,” he said almost darkly.

The final member to introduce himself stepped forward towards you, “Hello there, baby. My name is Jung-”

“Oh my God,” you yelped, shielding your hands to your face and clenching your eyes shut, “What is that smell?”

Doyoung turned towards Jungwoo with an expression that very clearly conveyed ‘I told you so’.

“Here,” Taeyong pulled off his jacket and handed it to you to put over your face and conceal your eyes and nose, “Let’s get you out of here, alright?”

Taeyong guided you out of the main room and towards his own. He knew you’d feel safer there considering you were already comfortable with his scent and he didn’t share a room with any other members.

Once you were gone, Jaehyun leaned over and slapped Jungwoo on the shoulder, “Nice going, jackass. You scared her off. I was alright about to take her to my room and fuck her throat.”

Jungwoo threw his hands up in defense, “How was I supposed to know she would react like that?”

The other members groaned at his antics and one by one walked to their respective rooms as the disappointment of not being able to fuck you set in.

Doyoung rubbed his hand over his face, “I knew you shouldn’t have worn that cologne.”

“For once,” Haechan began, “I actually agree with Doyoung.”

---

For the next week and a half, none of the members had gotten any action at all- not even kissing. And it was definitely an understatement to say they were going out of their minds.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jahyun groans, “Why did we even get a hybrid if we weren’t going to be able to fuck her whenever we wanted to?”

Johnny flipped through television channels aimlessly, “You said it, bro. I was horny enough when she wasn’t living with us, but I feel like I might even cum in my pants from how blue my balls are.”

Jaehyun groaned once more and threw himself back on the couch, “This is insane. She’s so fucking hot, and every day I get a little more on edge thinking about how she’s sleeping right down the hall every half week when she’s staying on our floor.”

“Yeah, I was wondering about that,” Johnny says while looking towards the younger boy, “Why are you here so often. We’ve always lived so close to each other, and yet you never used to visit us as frequently as you do now. What? You think you’re going to miss out on some sort of action with our kitty cat or something?”

Even Johnny’s choice of words about their hybrid turns him on, “I sure as fuck hope I won’t be missing anything. I don’t give a damn about what Haechan says. If I get the chance to fuck her first, he can cry about it all he wants.”

“Cry about what?” you ask, walking into the living room where the two members were sat.

“It’s nothing, really. Don’t worry about it,” Johnny says reassuringly with a little smile.

Jaehyun takes one look at your outfit and runs a hand through his hair in frustration. His ability to hold himself back from you continued to wane whenever you’d wear short little skirts like the one you were wearing now.

You were sporting one of Taeyong’s shirts as well, and it practically drowned you. His size kink was certainly driving him wild at the moment.

“No, tell me,” you pouted and whined as you walked towards them, taking a seat next in between the two members and placing a hand on Johnny’s thigh, “I wanna know.”

Jaehyun sucked in a breath and turned towards Johnny, wondering what they should tell you.

Taeyong had made it very clear that he didn’t want any of the members to pressure you into doing anything you didn’t feel comfortable doing.

However, the more Jaehyun got to be around you, he had the creeping suspicion that you weren’t as bold as you pretended to be.

He had suspected it at the adoption agency, of course, but he noticed it more and more around the dorms. From your first interaction with the members and shying away from introductions to blushing and muttering an apology when a member brushed against you. Jaehyun knew you weren’t as confident as you pretended to be.

And Jaehyun was so looking to exploit it.

“Well, baby,” Johnny began while noticing your cheeks warm up from his use of the pet name, ��We were just talking about how much… pain I’ve been in recently.”

Your eyes widened at the comment, “Pain? Are you okay? What kind of pain?” You asked frantically.

“In pain right here,” Johnny grabs your hand softly and places it over his crotch.

Your eyes widen once more and your mouth is agape.

“Me too, kitty,” Jaehyun breathes while placing your other hand over his own crotch.

You’re now sitting with each hand over each boy’s crotch, and your whole body feels hot to the touch. You gasp when Jaehyun’s crotch begins to harden, “W-what’s that? Why is it hard?”

“It’s painfully hard, baby. You don’t like seeing us in pain, do you?” Jaehyun asks, looking at you whilst biting his lip to keep from moaning as he rubs your hand against his cock through his jeans.

“O-of course not,” you stutter, turning back and forth to look at both boys, your hands still on them.

“You can help us feel better,” Johnny rasps slightly, “You want to make us feel better, right, baby?”

You pout and look at both boys with big eyes.

“...Yes.”

---

a:n// there it is dudes. Sorry it took me so long to write this lmao hopefully u enjoyed it

tag list: @sapiowoman28, @flowerboykun, @gomjohnny

sorry if anyone else asked to be on the tag list i have a small brain and forget things very easily

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sunflowergyeomie · 3 years

Text

can you handle it?

sypnosis: jeonghan is a real pain in the ass, we all know that. he always seems to get you to do things you never agreed on doing, you try not to fall for them though. what if one day you accidentally fall into his trap and give in, without knowing at all?

pairing: yoon jeonghan x gn!reader (vagina bearing)

genre: established relationship, fashion design student!au, architect!au, smut (18+ only)

word count: 2.9k

warnings: profanity, m!dom, degradation, lots of cum play, fingering, creampie, unprotected sex, pet names, size kink?? if you squint

a/n: bcos the irl girl version of jeonghan (aka my devil angel twin) @shuajeong told me "there aren't any fics of jeonghan lately", thus ✨this is written purely for you and your pain 😘 i have to say though, this isn't my best work :( i kept going back and forth and i rewrote and changed things at least three times so 😖😖 (i'm lowkey done with it so i'm sorry i tried, i really did) please forgive me.

Challenge?

Oh, it’s a challenge, alright.

Annoyed is what it is, lips pressed tightly together as you sink in the indescribable feeling. That’s what was currently happening seeing how there is a huge load of cum in your panties – an ignorant aftermath of your quickie with Jeonghan this morning before he drove you to class.

He even had the nerve to question how long you could stay like that for the entire day. You took that as him asking for a challenge and having been with you for a while now, Jeonghan knew you were never one to back down from them. Having basked in the afterglow of sex sure made you think anything was possible – or more accurately speaking his dick just made you dumb.

Now that it’s almost noon, you’re absolutely starting to regret the choice you’ve made, especially when you’re sitting halfway through your second lecture for the day, simply feeling that load threatening to spill out from the cotton panel, onto your inner thighs and slowly ooze down your legs.

Multiple calls of your name put a halt to your thoughts. A hand waves across your face while your eyes focus and refocus as the silhouettes come into sight. Your friends, Mingyu and Minghao are both staring at you, confusion etched across their faces, anticipating an answer from a question one of them probably asked. But in all honesty, you couldn’t recall the subject matter, nor did you give a shit about their issues because your main concern at this time is to get the hell out of there. “Oh, huh? Oh yes, sorry, yes, I’ll absolutely do that.”

A little laugh escapes from Mingyu’s lips while Minghao frowns. “I said.. What are you thinking about?” Mingyu asks, “You have a weird look on your face.”

“Are you not feeling well?” Minghao chimes in. “We can take n-“

“I’m fine, guys. Just a little tired,” You brush off, not wanting to go too deep into whatever you were currently feeling. It’s not that the guys weren’t close to you. In fact, they grew to be one of the closest ever since freshman year when all three of you showed up in the same pattern drafting class, wary looks on everybody’s faces in a new environment. Since the fashion department itself is small with only a few hundred students enrolled, it also meant that classes were taken with familiar faces, rarely is there a fashion student you haven’t seen before. Not to mention you were always being grouped in numerous projects and that’s how the three of you came to be. Both of them knew of your relationship with Jeonghan, of course, but there’s just some things that are better off left unsaid even if they are your best friends.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the both of them stealing glances at you every now and then. Even though they didn’t buy your excuse, Mingyu and Minghao knew better than not to bug you about it so throughout the whole three-hour lecture, you could just sense their concern emanating off their bodies. Adding on to your growing anxiety, making you more on edge, terrified that at any moment they would catch a glimpse of whatever dirty secret you were holding in – quite literally. Pulling out your phone, you quickly sent a text.

[12:03 PM]

you: I can’t take this anymore.

hannie: what’s wrong, princess?

You groaned, exasperation coating your breath. Was he playing dumb?

you: you know what I mean, han.

hannie: and what about it?

hannie: if I recall correctly, weren’t you the one who practically begged me to cum inside of you? Was just doing what you asked me to, princess :)

Scoffing in disbelief, you ignore his message, tossing the device straight into your bag, now furious at yourself for agreeing to it.

Stupid dick.

You weren’t even that horny this morning.

The cement walkways on campus greet the three of you as you step through the warm breeze. The sun shining through every leaf on the tall oak trees above you signal the firsts of many beautiful days now that summer is just around the corner. The bright weather is a big contrast to your dampening mood as your feet slowly drag along the blocks, leaving a gap between you and your friends while you try to keep up. You weren’t too keen on walking too fast right now. One wrong shift and you could be at risk of having Jeonghan’s gooey, semi-translucent, and not-so-warm release pooling down from underneath your mound. The two paid no attention to you though, they’re happily chatting about lunch options and the next possible location for studying afterwards. Not that you were going to join them anyways, not until you get the mess in between your legs situated.

“How about donkkaseu?” Mingyu turns around to ask, head whipping back mid-sentence to look at you, only to turn around and see that you’re already gone. His head turns left and right, trying to find you in the crowd of students, squinting his eyes for even a glimpse of your backpack but you’re nowhere to be seen.

“Where’d she go?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Minghao gives him a pointed look. “Jeonghan.” He says bluntly.

Jeonghan works downtown, a full hour away from your university. He was a busy man, well-equipped with knowledge and never failed to take pride in his work, no matter what it was. Your boyfriend was a well-wanted individual – not only with people who desperately wanted to be in his inner circle but also in his field of work with the numerous clients fighting for a slot in his schedule. Jeonghan has never-ending project proposals, spending most of his hours reviewing alterations and redevelopments on his building designs – a perfectionist, you often say or an obsession as others might call it. Knowing how serious his job was to him, you made sure not to meddle in with his profession, seeing how much it irritated him whenever he couldn’t concentrate, but this time was different – and you couldn’t hold yourself back from making the journey. You bow as you greet the secretary at the front desk. She takes one look up from her screen and already knows who you’re here for, immediately telling you of your boyfriend’s whereabouts while you nod back in thankfulness.

Pushing the heavy doors to Jeonghan’s office, the first thing you notice were his eyebrows deeply furrowed upon his face, a definite telltale to the attentiveness of the task in front of him. A few coworkers were surrounding him, each hovered over what seemed to be like another one of his drawing plans. At the click of the doorknob, Jeonghan’s head perked up when he saw you enter. A smile threatens to pull at his lips, but he bites them to prevent the joy from appearing. He’s been waiting for you all day. Having expected you to cave in earlier so he could have an excuse to take a long break. The current deal he was working on was getting to his head even though he’s gone over it a couple times already. He just needs a reset, a breather of some sort, … a release. Jeonghan fakes innocence however when he asks why you’re here. Simultaneously, his brain has already got his fingers wrapped around the string – pulling once, twice, three times, officially starting the internal mischievousness in him. A devious idea accelerating right before your very own eyes.

You furiously start making your way towards him, hair flying in all directions, nostrils flared in annoyance, your cheeks flamed red from built-up anger since the early morning you got to school, and the wrinkle between your eyebrows. You were a hot-tempered mess, you knew that but god, all he could think about was how beautiful you look. The way your eyes are rounded with the curvature of your nose bridge, adding on to the natural tint to your soft lips. Your lips that pout ever so slightly whenever you want something, your lips that taste like a mixture of yourself and that artificial strawberry-flavoured chapstick you apply every morning, your lips he so badly wants to feel against his own.

Your voice cuts through, interrupting his trance. “Excuse me, can I speak to you privately for one second?”

“Of course.” Jeonghan grins, dropping the pen as his hands start pushing his body up from the plush chair, quickly dismissing his staff with a wave of the hand. They take a hint as one by one, each of them starts leaving. He stands up, arms already going around your waist to pull you close, “Hi baby, how was your day?” He asks, head tilting as his hands are already reaching up to run his fingers through your hair.

You open your mouth to spew words, anger bubbling in letters as they boil up to the back of your throat but all of which dies down when the fire is turned off. Blocked off after the door is shut behind the last person when his demeanour takes a turn and switches a whole 180 degrees. His plan finally comes into action as his acting skills gear up. Licking his lips, his hands drop as he takes a step closer to you, hovering over your tiny figure. He’s finally got you where he wanted you in the first place. His eyes peer down from the lenses of his wired glasses, “Don’t you know better than not to interrupt me while I’m working?” He pauses. “What do you think my staff will think if you’re here for too long?” The back of his fingers gently trails down your face, almost feather-like as you try to press your face against his palm, leaning more into his touch.

“Guess you couldn’t keep it in, huh? I always knew you were a little slut.” Jeonghan tsked, “Was my cock not enough that you needed a second filling? It’s only been a few hours, darling.”

He starts walking back to his desk, hands going into his pockets as he leans against the edge. It shouldn’t have intimidated you, the way his eyes bore into yours but you gulped anyways, a feeling of excitement stirring in your lower abdomen as you clenched around nothing. You opened your mouth to retaliate, only for it to be shaped like what seems like a silent ‘o’. One of his eyebrows raise, a silent gesture for you to come.

Out of habit, your legs start moving obediently on their own until they reach the fronts of Jeonghan’s dress shoes. Tracing the outline of his long, toned legs hidden underneath the carob brown material of his trousers, you couldn’t help catching onto the small details of the garment. The modern leg-lines seamed in to elongate his legs, waistband wrapped around his torso showcasing his slim but strong build, the button with its holes as imaginary eyes and a crossed thread disguised as lips silently screaming ‘open me, open me!’.

He grabs your jaw, forcing you to tear your eyes away from his lower half to look at him. “I thought you came here to say something, but I can practically see the drool coming out of your pretty little mouth, staring at my cock.”

“I-“, He spins you around, positions changed now that you’re the one leaning against the desk. Jeonghan dives his head to capture your lips with his. You’re taken by surprise as a gasp escapes from your mouth while he takes that as a chance to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping past your bottom lip; full of need and desire, desperate to let out his frustrations. All your effort is focused on keeping up, molding your mouths together. Your anger is now replaced with lust. His hands are moving down to grip your ass.

Your breath hitches when his lips start trailing down your jaw, gently nibbling the soft skin on your neck before travelling down the valley of your breasts. He doesn’t bother trying to take off your top, opting to unbutton the first few, just enough to expose your lacy bra. Slipping underneath one cup to carefully knead your honey soft skin before latching his mouth onto your nipple, sucking gently but firmly. You whine as he hoists you up and places you on the surface, his face never detaching from your soft and full chest as he quickly pulls your pants off, leaving you in just your soaked panties.

“Maybe it was a good idea to leave my cum in you,” Jeonghan’s fingers hook onto the waistband. He smirks before pulling them down completely, stopping mid-thigh. “Easier to prepare.”

A trail of your slick follows as his digits spread your pussy, using his middle finger to slowly drag up your wet slit. His other hand is gripping your thigh when he reaches down in between, scooping the leftover cum from the previous session and forcing it back into your pussy. You watch with wide eyes only to have them roll back completely when he finishes by stuffing them all the way into you, resulting in a loud moan.

“P-please”

Jeonghan chuckles, satisfied by your reaction. He had you beckoning at his every move yet you were sure the satisfaction still wasn’t enough for him, not just yet. He pulls his fingers out to strip himself of his own pants, popping his member out. The hand with the fingers that were just inside of you is now rubbing all over his cock, using the little beads of precum along with a bit of your slick to pump himself.

Jeonghan’s cock is pretty, like the boy himself. He’s not too big or too small but he knows his angles and he knows how to use them right. Every time the two of you get intimate, which is quite often, his thrusts are sharp, clean and reach to the most inner parts of you – something that leaves soreness inside of you for days. But that doesn’t seem to matter whenever the two of you are having hot and steamy sex five days out of the seven weekly.

“You better stay fucking quiet.”

One hand is gripping your waist for extra support while the other is slowly guiding his length into you. The growl in his voice sends another wave of arousal between your legs, the wetness starting to spill and gather down your thighs. His eyes diverted down to pay attention to the way his length was disappearing inside of you. Each stroke covering his manhood with even more of your juices.

“F-ffuck, baby.” He curses under his breath. “You’re still so tight.”

His voice was breathy, almost like a whine before he picks up his speed, splitting your folds with a sloppy rhythm, expecting to chase both your highs before his coworkers come barging back in. Although the thought of getting caught in such a compromising position arouses him, Jeonghan couldn’t risk letting anyone seeing you in your most vulnerable state. Not when you have all the right curves, exclusive only for his viewing.

At some point, his hands start pulling you into him to meet his every thrust, your tits bouncing as you start feeling the delicious new angle he’s ruining you from. The tip of his cock rubbing against your cervix with every stretch. The familiar feeling of tension starts to build as your eyes squeeze tighter, your orgasm is approaching faster and faster. You’ve never wanted to scream his name out loud so badly when he slams once, no, twice into you, releasing the coil sending intensifying waves of pleasure throughout your whole body. Your tight heat clenching and unclenching around him causing Jeonghan to groan, “Shit.”

“Cum in me.” You insisted weakly. He gives in as he presses himself balls deep, cock twitching as he unloads inside of you, cum shooting in spurts coating your walls in white. The groan emerging from the back of his throat muffled as he quickly smashes his lips onto yours to conceal it. Your muscles move on your own, hiding your own whimper as your lips move together in unison. His body slumps over yours while he rests his head against your shoulder, pressing a light kiss as a way to say thank you.

In the intimacy of the moment, your arms are thrown around his broad shoulders, subconsciously pulling him closer as the two of you try to catch your breaths. When he lifts his head up, his doll eyes are already staring into your glossy ones. A tender smile spreading across his face, pecking your lips one more time before he slowly pulls out. Straight away, the emptiness is evident as his warmth disappears, your hole gaping while he looks down to appreciate the work done on your ruined pussy.

You feel your panties being pulled back up, now snug on your hips as he lets go of the elastic waistband to hear it snap back on your skin.

“Guess you have two loads to keep in now.” A devilish look covering every inch of his handsome face.

“Jeonghan!” you lunged at him. He cackles maniacally, successfully dodging while you attempt to jump on his back. The blood in your veins starts boiling again, both hands reaching up to cover your face when you realize your mistake for the second time today.

Jeonghan’s dick really did make you dumb.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan smut #jeonghan imagine #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan imagines #yoon jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan #yoon jeonghan one shot #jeonghan one shots #svt jeonghan

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kirishoshego · 3 years

Text

Right Place, Wrong Time//Kiribaku

!!!MINORS DNI!!! 18+ONLY !!! Summary: Kirishima and Bakugou are wanted bulgars and usually a top tier team, but a change of your plans thwarted their plans. So of course you were scared and more than shocked to see two (hot, you can’t lie) strangers standing in the hallway, with you only wrapped up in a towel.

Remark: A big, big thank you to @misterhoneyyandere for inspiring me with this post and letting me use their ideas to write this fic (an AIzawa one will be following, hopefully soon) that’s very lovely of you Mister Honey (Also this is my first time writing about a threesome)

TW: nswf: non con, voyeurism, masturbation, choking, gagging, oral (male and female receiving), double penetration, anal, size kink (I just love big Kiri, sorry not sorry), belly bulge, praise and degrading, slapping, spitting

It was a nice and relaxing night for you, the sun was still out, on it’s way to disappear for a few hours and letting the moon shine in it’s full glory. At first you were sad about your friend cancelling your weekend trip. You were so exited after this stressful month, but of course you didn’t want to force them to come out when they aren’t feeling well. So you decided to go grocery shopping, buying yourself some luxurious self care items and fancy take out. Who said you need to go out to have a fancy weekend? You sat outside, enjoying the food and eating your takeout, when the weather turned chilly and the sun now completely gone when you decided it was time for you to go back inside. Closing the sliding door to your garden, making sure it was locked, you made your way into your bathroom, the bathtub inviting you to a warm, wet evening, covered in bubbles. New and old candles were scattered around the room to add to the soothing atmosphere around you. While water was pouring into your tube, your bath bomb sizzling, you went to grab some matches, lightening up the candles, filling the room with your favorite scent. Spotify had a lot of things to offer and after a few minutes you settled for (xy). Before you stepped in you turned off the water, making sure the temperature was just right. Your hair was tied back so it won’t get wet and you put on a mask, setting your glass onto the wooden board next to your phone. Feeling your tense body relax as soon as the water surrounded you. Everything was just perfect. “Shitty hair, are you 100% she’s gone? The car is still in the fucking drive way,” Bakugou whisper yelled at his tall friend who was crotched down next to him. “Her little appointment book said she will be out the whole weekend with a friend. I even heard her talk about it yesterday morning, she’s definitely gone,” he reassured Bakugou, who had a scowl on his face. “Fine, then let’s go! You have the list of the things we want, right?” Kirishima huffed and pulled it out of one of his pocket. They made their way into the backyard, making sure there are no traces left behind that could be backtracked to them. Bakugou pulled out the spare key to your sliding door, you didn’t even noticed that it was gone. While Bakugou had to check downstairs and wrap everything up, Kirishima went upstairs. That was, until he heard the noise coming from the bathroom. At first he thought he was just imagining things but then he could hear it again. Someone was in the bathroom, moaning.

He almost dropped the vase in his hand, catching it before it could make any noise. The red haired man made his way to the ajar door, his eyes landing on your small frame. The dimly lit room was filled with your soft moans and pants and the way the flames were swaying gently, letting him see everything he needed, everything he wanted. The bubbles were now almost gone so he had the perfect view on the way your skillful hands played with your clit, the other hand stroking your chest. Kirishima felt his huge dick harden at your private show for him and he couldn't help but watch the scene unfold in front of him while playing with himself through his pants. Your eyes were closed and your was glistering, goose bumps adoring your skin. He wanted to play with your rack, bite them, suck them, bruise them, to taint you for everyone but him. Eijirō started picturing you riding him, watching his cock disappear into your tight, wet cunt, moaning out his name. God, he wanted to wreck you in every possible way. Would you let him do it? “Eijirō, what the actual fuck?” Bakugou pulled him out of his train of thoughts, looking at him angrily, ready to yell at his partner. A big hand on his mouth shut him up and Kirishima signed to him to be quiet. He moved from the door and pointed at you, riding out your orgasm. The smaller on of the two pulled the other one away into the bed room, hitting his biceps. “I thought you double checked you idiot!” it took everything in him not to scream, but he knew that would only scare you off and he can’t deny that he wasn’t turned on by what he just saw. “I did! I told you I did, you know I’m extra careful with this shit. How am I supposed to know she will stay last minute?”

They heard you shutting off the water and had a silent fight, debating what to do now that they were a few minutes away from getting caught. You wrapped yourself up in a towel, humming a song, your attention occupied by the candles around you. After you blew them all out you wanted to go to the bedroom, cursing yourself out for forgetting your book in the living room. You sighed, walking down the stairs, which were leading you right into your disaster. Flicking the switch your eyes immediately found the book you were currently reading, but much to your surprise you also found your sliding down wide open. “Hm, I thought I closed it,” you wondered, making your way to the door, sliding it shut and turning the key in the hole. What you didn’t expect was a buff, blond man to look into your eyes through the reflection of the window glass. You shrieked and turned around, grateful that your towel stayed in place. “Get the fuck out of my house you pervert!” you yelled at him, throwing the nearest object you could grab into his direction. Sadly, he could see it coming from a mile away and grabbed it without any trouble, putting it down on the table next to him. You took off, running upstairs and into your bedroom, locking it behind you, praying that he will just give up and go. It wouldn’t even bother you if he would take a few things, you just didn’t want him to hurt you or do something even worse. “Now, now, sweet cheeks, that’s not very kind of you. We don’t want to destroy your door, do we?” a low voice spoke, far too close to you for your liking. As you opened your eyes you were met with a black cladded stomach. A quasi giant stood right in front of you, his red eyes crescent as he smiled widely at your frightened expression. He towered over you, his one large, broad hand next to your head and your were sure if he would grab your face it would be covered completely. You punched him in his balls, waiting for a reaction, but whatever you hit was rock hard, hurting your hand more in the progress than him. Then you tried pushing him away, hitting him against his muscular chest, yelling at him to leave you alone, that he can take whatever he wants but just leave you be. He let you have a fit for a view minutes, enjoying the fact that you were so absolutely helpless and no matter how hard you try to fight against him, it wouldn’t change the fact that he was about to pound you into your mattress soon enough. “Shitty hair, open the fucking door,” he could hear Bakugou groan from outside, knocking on the door harshly. The tall stranger in front of you picked you up, as if you weighted nothing more than a feather, throwing you over his shoulder and keeping you in place while you try to wiggle your way free. He opened the door for his partner, the hot headed man stepping through, looking at your towel cladded frame, his eyes landing on the now exposed swell of your plump ass. “Let me go, you stupid asshole,” you hit his back, biting into it which caused him to let go and hiss in pain. You fell down, scrambling to your knees, holding the fabric tightly while making your way to your window. The red head grabbed you by your neck, pulling you back into him and holding you in place while your back was pressed against his front. You could feel something twitch at your back and your tried getting away, but with one swift motion he had you turned around, your face now in his hand, the other one wandering to your hand that was holding the knot. “There is no need to cover up, it’s not like I haven’t seen you in all your beautiful glory before,” he licks his lips, pulling your hand away, the towel now falling to your feet. You tried everything to cover yourself up, your hands in front of your chest but his big hand had yours within a second, exposing every inch of your body to him and his friend behind you. As you noticed his size you gulped, struggling in his grip. You looked at the guy behind you, noticing that he sat in your armchair, watching you getting manhandled. The taller one pushed you down into your bed, crawling on top of you, looking into your eyes while his knee made it’s way in between your legs, the rough fabric of his black jeans rubbing against your clit. “Tell me baby, how did it feel, fucking yourself in the water? Did that satisfy you?” his voice was husky, his knee moving up and down and he could see your nipples hardening again. He loved the way your eyes grew wide when you realized he had been watching you, so innocent and helpless. “See, I don’t think it did. I think it only left your wet little cunt begging for a big cock, what do you think?” he looked at Bakugou who agreed with him. “I bet she just wants the two of us to use her like a little toy, fuck her and fill her up,” the blond said, making you tear up. “Please don’t,” you whimpered, looking into the red eyes of the man on top of you. Kirishima pouted at you, wiping your tears away with his sleeve. He brushed through your hair a couple of times, mustering your face, watching as the tears continued flowing down your soft face. “Oh baby, no, please don’t cry. Don’t worry I’m going to stretch you out properly, don’t want to hurt you, do we now?” He went to your neck, kissing you up and down, trying to find your sweet spot. Your body betrayed you, a quiet moan leaving your lips when his soft lips found it and you could feel him smirk against your neck before biting into it roughly. You yelp in pain, slapping him when he came up, his eyes darkening. “Keep doing that, it’ll only make me fuck you harder,” he whispered into your ear, biting and nibbling your earlobe. His hand went down your stomach, up again to your chest where his hand found amusement in teasing your tits, massaging them roughly. His lips trailed down soft kisses, nibbling here and there at your sensitive skin, before he stopped above your erect nipple. Red eyes flickered up, first to yours, then something behind you. Before you could register what was happening a veiny hand grabbed your tied up hair and pulled it down, so your head hung upside down from the bed frame. His other hand forced your mouth open, then pushing his thick cock down your throat making you gag around it. While Bakugou fucked your throat with no mercy, drool and tears mixing on their way down, Kirishima continued playing with your chest, licking, blowing, biting, sucking, marking. Plump lips made their way down south and a groan slipped out between them when Kiri’s face was in front of your pussy. “Would you look at that? Someone is enjoying herself,” he teased, kissing your inner thighs, left and right, trailing hot kissed up until his tongue licked a long stripe along your folds, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive area, sucking softly and making his sharp tongue flick all around it. The blond was a groaning mess, calling you all sorts of names, telling you you’re a whore for getting wet from what they are doing to you. He loved seeing his dick go in and out of your throat, feeling you swallow, or try to swallow, around his shaft. Red eyes watched you getting eaten out and he almost couldn’t believe this was real, he really was having a threesome with his best friend and one of the hottest women he ever laid eyes upon. Your crying and fighting made this a whole lot more fun for him, he always liked them fiesty. But, he would have never guessed that Eijirou would enjoy this as well. It’s always the one you least expect it from. Secretly he was hoping this won’t be the last time they’ll use you like that. He could picture the two of them break in again, maybe when you calmed down a bit, feeling save again. Or maybe you would even let them in, let only them fuck you. Maybe they could get you addicted, he bet they could. His broad hand landed a slap to your right tit and Bakugou watched as your eyes opened in shock when Kirishima’s pointer finger circled around your asshole. You dug your nails into Bakugou’s muscular thighs, shaking your head and he released you, at least for a short moment. “Don’t push it in there, please, I beg you, nobody has ever been there, please stop,” you begged, pushing yourself away from the man between your legs, but his large hands gripped around your thighs, pulling you back in while Bakugou held your hands down, observing Kirishima’s skilled, wet finger slowly disappearing into your tight, clenching hole. He had enough of your whining and decided to push his underwear into your mouth, gagging you. You pulled the red hair, hoping to hurt him enough to at least pull his finger out again. He only moaned as a response and you noticed he started fingering you even harder, the tip of his second finger now joining his first finger. “Oh stop crying, we all know you’re about to cum, don’t pretend like you're such a prune,” Bakugou barked at you, standing up and walking over to you, slapping you across the face before the same hand went around your throat, squeezing your sides shut and that’s when you could feel your first orgasm crash over you, moaning into Bakugou’s underwear, shame immediately haunting your mind. “There we go you fucking bitch, see, what did I tell you? You’re a nasty little fuck toy,” he laughed, watching the way you squirm in Kirishima’s grip, who was now inside of you with his third finger. The blond came all over your face and chest, panting and going back to the chair, getting ready for round two. Kirishima was slurping, eating you out as if your pussy was his last meal. He found your almost full lube bottle under your bed, using it around his fingers to hurt you a little less. His huge dick was throbbing, begging for him to just fuck your tight ass, but he really didn’t plan on adding murder to his list tonight, so he took his sweet time and by the way your body was reaction you didn’t mind either. When he finally felt like you were prepped enough half an hour later you had two more orgasms already, each one of them more powerful and shaming than the one before. The makeshift gag was still doing it’s job. Keeping you from begging none sense, like they should stop, how you don’t want this, even though you knew deep down you loved every second of it, and making your moans sound even filthier. “Katsuki, come here and look at this, watch how she clenches around me,” you really wanted to die on the spot. You felt so small and embarrassed, having both man watch you getting touched against your will and yet you felt your body getting hotter as they starred at the scene unfolding in front of them, your cunt getting wetter, begging to be filled, squeezing around nothing. What was wrong with you? How could you... How could you enjoy getting used like a rag doll? Covering your face you screamed into Bakugou’s boxers as Kirishima slowly moved his fingers inside of you. Kiri thrusted up and down, twisting his fingers, scissoring you as he added more lube. Both of your holes were a mess, glistening with cum and lube and if his dick wasn’t leaking pre-cum from his angry red tip already, he could do this for hours. He can’t wait to feel you tremble and squeeze around him the same way you do around his fingers, almost as if you never want him to go again, wanting to feel stuffed. Greedy little whore. What would it sound like if you moan his name? Could you even do it? Or would you be too much of a mess, fucked dumb, only slurrying your words, not making any sense.

Your body arched from the bed as yet another orgasm hit you, pulling Kirshima’s hair even harder. “I think it’s time we go up a notch,” Bakugou suggested, his cock hard again, needing to be inside your wet hole. Apparently his friend agreed, slowly pulling out his wet fingers and he couldn’t stop himself from licking around it, dipping his tongue in and watching you twist and turn. He picked you up from the bed, holding you close to him and giving you a moment to calm down from what was happening to you. Taking the water bottle from beside your bed, he took out the red underwear, your mouth dry and sore from being kept open the whole time. Tipping your head back he made you open your mouth, watching you swallow the water. “What do we say when someone is being nice to you?” Bakugou asked from your bed, ready to have you on top of him. “I’m not going to thank you,” you bit back at him, hiccuping through your sentence while you were still shaking, pushing Kirishima’s hand away from your face. “Fine, then have it your way,” he said, smirking at you. Kirishima had you under full control, his one arm wrapped around your upper half, while the other hand played with your pussy. He pushed you down onto the bed, on top of Bakugou who was waiting for you. No matter how hard you braced yourself against Kirishima, who opened your legs for Bakugou to fuck your cunt, he didn't even budge one bit. Like you didn’t try to use all your power to stop them. Bakugou’s middle and index finger went up and down your folds, amused at your pitiful act of pretending you didn’t like it while being betrayed by your own body. Tears slipped onto your open lips while you couldn’t stop moaning the more you were teased. Once he was done he stroke his dick along your folds, his tip dipping inside every once in a while. Kirishima had enough of the teasing, his dick swollen and pulsing, so when Bakugou was almost in you again he pushed you down, making you scream at the sudden stretch and Katsuki groaned, feeling your walls around him. “Damn Kiri, even though I stretched her out she’s still so fucking tight around me,” his hips snapped up and down, watching your boobs jump up and down every time he pushed himself all the way in. He started playing with them, squeezing them, rolling your nipples between his fingers, feeling you squeeze around him.

“I bet you never had someone as thick as me inside your sloppy little pussy, isn’t that right? When was the last time someone fucked you properly? Has anyone ever made you cum?” you looked everywhere but him, biting your lip to not make a sound, not wanting to give him what he wanted. In return he slapped you across the face, pulling you close to him by your neck. He spit into your face with no warning and pushed two of his fingers inside your mouth as you gasped. “Stop fucking ignoring me slut! I asked you a question,” he slammed into you harder and you choked out a no, your cheeks heating up, feeling humiliated. “That’s why you’re touching yourself isn’t that right? Because nobody knows you’re a cock hungry whore that needs to be used. Nobody knows how to handle you, huh?” he looked at Kirishima, who got undressed, his cock hitting above his belly button, pre cum running down his shaft. Bakugou locked you in, his arms wrapped around you, so you can’t move while he stopped his thrusting, waiting for Kirishima to get onto the bed as well. He smeared his pre cum all over your ass cheeks, dipping his fingers into you once again before you could feel his tip on your entrance. You stiffed at the sudden movement behind you and the red head stroked your back soothingly. “It’s going to be okay, you are doing so well, I know you can take me, don’t worry,” his right hand found your clit and he played with it lazily, making you relax a bit. Bakugou could feel tears on his shoulders, hearing small sobs from you. “No need to cry anymore, we got you, we know how to treat you right,” and with that he slammed into you, causing you to scream out in pain because no amount of foreplay could have prepared you for how huge this man’s dick was. Your back was on fire, your hole stretched to the max and you felt so awfully stuffed. After a short moment Kirishima started moving slowly, watching your hole wrapped around him. No one could ever take him completely before, some even passed out. He had to keep you. You were perfect for him. “Shit, this is so fucking hot,” the sight of what was in front of Bakugou made his cock twitch inside you. Kirishima pulled your body up so he could see what Bakugou was talking about. When his red eyes landed on the bulge in your belly he lost control. This was the hottest thing he ever saw, even in his imagination he could never picture it this filthy, this hot.

He pushed you down again, pounding into you, spanking your ass, causing you squeeze around both of them with every blow given. Bakugou took this as his signal to move again, the feeling of your pussy around him and Kirishima's cock in your ass making his wildest dreams come true.

It didn’t take long for them to find the perfect rhythm, Bakugou playing with your chest while Kirishima held you in place, one hand locking your wrists behind your back and the other one around your neck, squeezing it shut from time to time.The pain was quickly replaced with an intense amount of pleasure. Your sobs were replaced with loud moans, the feeling of both holes being stuffed by strangers made you see stars. You never thought something so forbidden and wrong could feel so good, could make you feel such ecstasy. While one of them pulled out almost completely, the other one slammed back into you. Your room was now filled with sinful groans, moans and screams, your scents mixed together. You lost count of how many times you came around them, but you knew that the following days will be sore and painful. You hated yourself for letting this happen, for not being more aware about your surroundings. And you felt so humiliated, so mortified about the fact that you loved feeling both cocks inside of you at them same time. Loving the feeling of cum on you, loving the feeling of Kirishima's hand controlling your blood flow, how Bakugou played with your tits, slapped them, bit them, squeezed them. Most of all you hated the fact that you felt yourself pulsing around them when you spotted the bulge in your stomach, a sight you can’t forget and to be honest didn’t want to forget. You know you couldn’t stop what was happening, so you let it happen, let yourself enjoy the hottest and kinkiest night in your life, a small, sinister voice in the back of your head even begging for this to not be the only time these two hot, well-hung men will fuck you. “Bakugou I can’t hold it back for much longer,” Kirishima moaned, biting into the crotch of your neck, leaving some marks behind. “Me neither,” he confirmed in a deep, husky voice. Their thrust turned sloppy, but didn’t soften. The rhythm now all over the place as the men chased their high. In a matter of seconds both cocks twitched feeling their cum spurting inside of you. While Bakugou cursed like a sailor, Kirishima turned your head to him and kissed you harshly, praises falling from his lips.

The tall man pulled out first, watching his cum drip out of your messy hole, slowly flowing down to your cunt, Bakugou now pulling out as well, mixing their liquids together. You were a shaking mess, heavy pants leaving you, your eyes closed, feeling drained and stuffed at the same time. Kiri laid you down softly, observing every inch of your fucked frame. He spotted a small bulge in your abdomen, almost getting hard again at the sight of their huge load of spunk. You were between both men who were covered in sweat, trying to catch their breath. “What are we going to do now?” the smaller one to your right asked. “I don’t know about you, but I will definitely keep her,” answered Kirishima, who caressed your back. “Shitty hair, if she talks we’re screwed,” warned Bakugou, turning to his side to look at his friend. “What do you think darling? You get to stay alive and fucked properly whenever you want and we get to keep you as our good little cum slut? You know we ruined you for anyone else, nobody will be able to make you feel as good,” he kissed your bruised neck, grinning when you twitched at his touch. You knew there was no way around, they could find you again easily and he was right. You didn’t want to admit it, but no matter how hard you would try, you would never find anyone who could make you feel the same way they did. “Deal?” “Deal.”

©Kirishoshego//do not repost on any platform

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

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daddy issues - chapter xv

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

A/N for this chapter: this is 3.2k of unedited drama and I am so fucking proud of it. I wrote this entire thing today, and it’s easily one of the pieces I’m most proud of. So I haven’t been able to fit a proper conversation between the reader and Harlan - I couldn’t make the scene justified if his presence was there, since he does seem to be the one thing that keeps the family on the line - but that means I had some ideas of how I can make up for it in the future! Extra chapter? Perhaps. We are approaching the end though. I only have two more chapter planned for this fic and an epilogue. We’ll see how that goes!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Hey!” I got into the car excited to see him again, but I tried to reason with myself that it was all because of his visit to his grandfather’s publishing company, of course. I wanted to know how that went and I was curious as to what Harlan’s plans were, that was mostly it.

The fact that I had genuinely missed the man by my side after spending just four hours away from him had very little to do with it, or so I tried to tell myself. I didn’t know how to deal with depending so much on someone yet.

But I was trying to.

Ransom’s silence alerted me that something was different. I stopped trying to fix myself to look to the side and find him staring out the window, face expressionless and eyes void of any sentiment.

“Ransom, what’s wrong?” Reaching over, I squeezed his thigh to get his attention, and he jerked as if he was genuinely surprise by my presence in the small vehicle. “You look stressed,” I clarified, eyebrows furrowed in worry as I reached over to push away a strand of hair that had fallen out of place.

He just stared at me for a while and still I couldn’t read what he was thinking. Was he mad at me? Had I done something wrong? After what felt like eternity, he sighed, gripping the steering wheel as he looked on his lap and admitted, “I’m gonna have to go to this family dinner on Friday.”

Immediately, I breathed deeply in relief, suddenly realizing just how worried I actually was that his mood had something to do with me. But then I was reminded of the little that Ransom had told me about this family - even that little felt like too much.

I could only imagine the anxiety he was feeling, and my heart ached to soothe him as best as I could. “Do you want me to go with you?” I asked, running my digits over his nape calmly, keeping my voice as soft as possible to help him relax.

Still, his head snapped up so he could meet my eyes, his wide as two saucers as he struggled to process what I’d said. “… You’d do that?” He sounded so surprised, so genuinely shocked by my offer, that I couldn’t stop myself from giggling, taking both of his hands on mine and squeezing them gently.

“Of course I would, honey.” Ransom’s eyes were so soft as they stared into mine, even as my heart doubled its size in its effort to reach out for his, I found myself justifying, “You went with me to see my parents!”

The way his smile dropped at my explanation had me feeling cold and empty, desperate to see him look at me the same way he was doing only seconds ago.

“Besides,” I forced myself to admit it, trying not to sound as breathless as I felt while I opened my heart to him. “I-I don’t want you to go through that alone. I wanna be there for you, like you were for me.”

Immediately, I felt rewarded on my effort to open up by the smile he gave me. “Thank you, baby.” He squeezed my hand this time, and when he leaned over and connected our lips on a quick peck, my heart skipped a beat.

I was in love with this man.

Ransom’s P.O.V.

I sighed as we stood in front of my grandfather’s front door, trying to adjust my sweater that suddenly felt uncomfortable. Beside me, she seemed to be doing the exact same thing, fingers pulling on the end of the dress she was wearing, making me smile.

The dress highlighted her bump - it was now undeniable that she was pregnant and even if I’d never been particularly attracted to women in this stage of life, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her now.

It was like she shined from within. Her beauty amazed me, and so when she noticed me staring and stopped fiddling with her clothes, straightening herself up to ask, “Do I look okay?” I had to stop myself from laughing.

“Yes.” More than okay. “But are you sure you won’t be cold?” We’d gone through this argument before leaving the house, so I was prepared to see her rolling her eyes as she reached out to take my hand in hers.

“Unless your family has the habit of dining outdoors regardless of the weather, I think we’ll be alright.” I chuckled, rubbing my thumb on the back of her hand, but it sounded nervous even to my own ears. It didn’t surprise me that she noticed it. “Are you ready?” She questioned, voice in that soothing tone she used whenever she noticed my stress.

“Not at all,” I admitted, but in all honesty, the prospect of joining my family for dinner didn’t seem as bad as it usually did. Not with her by my side.

“I’m here for you.” Hearing her say those words meant more to me than I was able to properly express at that moment so I just stared at her, taking in the fact that this incredible person actually cared about me.

“Just… don’t leave me alone, okay?” Her immediate nod had me smiling. It prompted me to once again lean over and connect our lips, only this time, when I tried to pull away, she kept me close with her hand on the back of my neck.

Who knows where this kiss might have led us if the door hadn’t open right at that moment, revealing my lousy uncle who stared from me to her with wide eyes?

“… She’s pregnant? With your baby?” A groan was all I could muster as a response, tugging her into the house with me. “When were you going to tell your family?”

“For fuck’s sake,” I cursed, looking around the living room for the bar. “Where’s the goddamn alcohol?” There was no way I’d be able to survive this night without it, as much as I wanted to be supportive of Y/N.

“I think that’s a bottle of scotch,” I heard her whispering next to me, pointing towards a corner of the room, and I sighed in relief at her understanding.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

An hour into the evening and I had already understood why Ransom was the way that he was - and why he liked his grandfather so much, despite how he felt about the rest of the family.

Harlan was gentle where all of his children were… prickly. In fact, he was the only one who addressed me at all, but I found myself feeling grateful for it, since when the dinner actually started, I wanted the rest of the family to forget about me completely.

“I am so sorry,” Harlan apologized, rubbing his hands nervously as he stared at the rest of the family who was walking towards the dining room. “I sleep early, everyone knows that, but this is the only time they could all gather and since they didn’t know you were coming…”

I waved away his apologies, offering him a hug as I wished him good night. “Just as long as you’ve had your dinner, Harlan. Thanks for welcoming me into your home.”

He accepted my embrace easily, taking advantage of the proximity to whisper in my ear, “Just hang on to him, dear. I promise it’ll be worth it.” I smiled when we parted, nodding in confirmation to his words.

“It already is,” I assured him, but he only sighed.

“Make sure to remember that during dinner…” Now I understood why. It started with a simple question, one of the maids offered me some meat, and when I hesitated to answer…

“God, are you daft, girl? Have you never eaten lamb?” My eyes widened in surprise, but before Ransom could have the chance to throw himself at his mother, I just squeezed his thigh.

“I was going to ask her if there was any oregano in the sauce. It’s been making me feel sick.” I didn’t need to add why - the reminder of my situation, of what led me to be there with them in this dining room was very clear in me.

And still, that didn’t stop them.

“That’s a pretty necklace…” Ransom’s father commented before we could even grab a bite. I chuckled to myself, immediately catching onto what he wasn’t saying.

“Thanks, I got it at a little boutique back home. It was a gift for myself after I got my first paycheck.” I could feel Ransom’s gaze on me, the waves of pride rolling from him in waves. It made me smile, but it was just the calm before the storm.

“Ransom, have you contacted a lawyer?” This question came from his uncle’s wife, Donna - I think that’s what she was called. Not that she tried to introduce herself to me or anything, but Harlan made sure I knew everyone’s name as soon as I stepped inside the house.

“Why?” Ransom’s tone was vicious and his squinted eyes alerted everyone that he was prepared for a strike, but the fact that he still hadn’t anticipated what was coming almost made me laugh.

Even Donna herself hesitated, unbelieving that he was going to make her say it. “There’s no way you’re that stupid.” And just like that, the doors to hell were opened up.

Ransom’s P.O.V.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but then again, was I really surprised?

“You should make sure to draw a prenup,” Donna insisted, while the rest of the family pretended not to hear, undoubtedly coming up with their own ways to insult Y/N. “Something that will assure only your kid has access to your money.”

I could hear Y/N quietly laughing to herself next to me, but while she was able to find the irony in the situation amusing, all I felt was blinding rage.

“God, do you even hear the shit you say? I never asked for your input, this, right here, is precisely why I didn’t tell any of you all about my baby.” I saw Y/N flinch from the corner of my eyes before I heard my mother’s fork drop against the precious porcelain dish she was pretending to eat from. I knew this was the sorest topic of discussion for her. I knew this was why she had been pretending Y/N wasn’t even there, hadn’t even been invited to dinner with me.

“Fair enough,” she spoke, lying back against her chair as she finally raised her eyes to meet mine. “I don’t know if we even should learn anything about this child, considering it most likely isn’t even yours.”

It was like someone had thrown a bucket of ice over me. Y/N was oddly quiet now, seemingly as frozen as me - and when I realized that, my anger returned with twice its power.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” I warned, just as my mother retorted, “Don’t you talk like that to me.” I didn’t even have the chance to talk back when she stroke again. “You fuck so many ransom desperate chicks, I’m surprised this is the first you knocked up.”

This was as insulting to her as it was to me, and it also struck a chord in me because of how I feared this was just reinforcing Y/N’s views of me. “Don’t say shit like that,” I threatened, to no avail. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

“Ransom…” Her sweet voice tried to intervene, but I was too far gone to hold myself back now. I couldn’t stand the thought that I was hurting her because I was the reason she was here in the first place.

“You know nothing about her, and yet you feel comfortable judging her,” I continued, ignoring her completely. “She’s a lawyer, actually. You would know it if you had even bothered to talk to her. If there was ever the need for a prenup, I’d have her draw it.”

Maybe they thought I’d stop at that - I thought so myself, until I realized there was still so much I wanted to get out, and I was going to do that now.

“And you know what? I trust her more than I trust you, and I came out of you. So maybe you should consider that before you attack the one person I try to introduce to my family.” I hated everything about this. I hated how they still managed to get to me, how the fact that my own mother, who I didn’t even respect, still managed to make me feel inadequate about the one thing in my life that made me excited.

I knew I’d always lose with them. They just had this way of inciting the beast in me - they brought out the worst in me, and I felt helpless to fight it.

“Okay, so she’s not some random skank,” my uncle oh-so-helplessly interrupted, immediately making me want to punch him in his stupid face. “But this just means she’s the one playing you.”

“Oh, shut up!” I threw my hands up, pushing my chair away from the table, fully intended to storm out of the room until Meg was the one who stopped me dead in my tracks.

“Did you even get a paternity test, Ransom?” She seemed almost uncomfortable to voice it, eyes darting from me to Y/N, but I could read her apologetic smile perfectly.

She just didn’t want someone else to get Harlan’s attention and interest because that would potentially mean less money to each and everyone of the people in this room, as he’d add one more person to his aid list.

My father took advantage of what Meg said, waving in her direction. “Don’t you know how important this family is? How quickly she could rise in any job because of a connection to us?”

My mother scoffed, finally ready to interfere again. “Knowing she’s actually smart leaves me even more surprised that you’ve relented and decided to become someone’s little plaything until this baby pops out. I’m assuming a few months with a screaming kid and you’re just gonna abandon her anyway. Which is fine by me, I won’t have to pretend to be a grandmother for long.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

All I could think was how grateful I was that I had accompanied him to this dinner tonight. As I watched his chest heaving with fury, I could not imagine how he would have felt having to deal with all of this on his own.

“Ransom,” I tried to catch his attention, pulling him back to his seat. “Ransom, it’s okay,” I tried to appease him, but he was too fucking gone to care.

“No, it’s not okay, he pushed my hand away, getting up from his chair to lean over the table, both hands on top of it as he stared at his mother. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He yelled, making me flinch, although Linda hardly seemed bothered by it.

Then, much to my surprise, Ransom straightened up, running a hand through his hair as an emotionless chuckle escaped him. “No, you know what? You’re right. You’re not gonna be a grandmother. I’m gonna be a father, Harlan’s gonna be a great-grandfather, but that’s it. I’m not gonna keep taking your shit anymore, Linda, you know why? Even if this child wasn’t mine, I’d still want her and this kid.”

My heartbeat pumped out of control as he continued, “She’s not just someone who’s carrying my child. I care about her. And if you can’t respect her, than I guess I was right in keeping this pregnancy from you.”

I held my breath as Ransom apparently caught his, my head swirling with the different emotions running through me - my infatuation for this man, who had so fiercely defended me from his entire family, the adrenaline from witnessing such a vicious argument.

I truly believed this would be the end of it. I didn’t know where they could go from here - that was, of course, until Linda decided to attack him.

“Oh, and you think you’re going to be so great with it?” My blood boiled when her words turned against her own son so easily. Attack me and my dignity? That was okay, these people didn’t know me.

But seeing her attack Ransom was just too much for me.

“Do you think she’ll want to keep you around once she realizes she’ll be raising two children with you to weigh her down?” Ransom visibly faltered, like she had slapped him, and that’s when I had enough. “You’ll never be able to give her the emotional support that she needs and you know that.”

I rose to my feet at that, holding onto my lower back as I softly slapped Ransom’s back in an attempt to calm him down. “I got this, babe.” He was so surprised - and still so hurt by his mother’s statements - that he didn’t even try to stop me. In fact, I think he didn’t even realize what was going on until I turned to Linda and started talking.

“Do you really think that poorly of your son that you can’t believe he has anything to offer in a relationship?” Now she was the one who looked up at me with an expression that looked like I had physically hurt her.

“Is it that unbelievable to you, that someone would be able to like him for him?” She didn’t seem to be able to find anything to answer to me, and when I turned to Richard, I was also met with silence.

Ransom’s P.O.V.

“Well, I do,” she announced, like it was the single most obvious thing, the simplest fact to deduce in the world, while I stood back watching her with my mouth hanging open. “I like him enough to be willing to open up to him even if one day he might leave me because to me, he is worth any possibility of future pain.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I’d never had anyone defend me like this, not even Harlan - not even my parents, when I was a kid and the bigger children decided to bully me.

No, back then all I got was a talk about how “real men don’t cry” and if my father ever caught me cowering from someone else again he’d give me a real reason to be afraid.

“And I do say possibility,” she continued, not having raised her voice for even a second and still to effortlessly able to catch the attention of everyone in the room, assure herself the ground to speak her mind without the fear of interruptions. “Because Ransom’s actions have never given me any reason to think that outcome is even remotely probable.”

“So maybe you think about your own opinions of your son’s character and see if they don’t reflect your own more than they reflect his actions.” She turned around after that, tiny hand encircling my wrist as she began to yank me in the direction of the front door.

“Let’s go.”

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale reader #my series #ransom drysdale reader insert #ransom drysdale reader inserts #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale series #ransom drysdale writings

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seiyasabi · 3 years

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きつね (Fox)

(I wanted to try something different and write a few Romaji (ローマ字) words in Hiragana (ひらがな)! I promise it won’t be throughout the fic, but I thought it would be fun for those learning Japanese to practice :))

Here’s a !DARK! Kitsune (きつね) Kakyoin (かきょいん) x Female Reader story! Please proceed with extreme caution!

TW: !NONCON!, !Foul Dirty talk!, !breeding kink!, !knotting!, !Size kink!, use of pepper spray!, you’re in the forest!,!no prep!, !gagging!, !predator/prey elements!, violence!, mentions of blood and small wounds!, !mentions of drug use and alcohol! (Not you or in detail), etc..

I’m sorry if this is too OOC!)

“Go to the forest, they said, it’ll be fun, they said,” You grumble to yourself, nearly tripping over a stray tree root. All you want to do is get out of this damn forest and pass out in your dormitory bed, but it seems like Mother Nature has another plan for you.

Currently, you’re regretting going into the creepy woods near your college. You’d only gotten to this college a few months prior, having transferred from your college in (prefecture/country) to one in rural Japan, and you thought this would be a fun experience. Your new friends claimed that the parties at a certain campground were wild and entertaining, but so far, you’d only seen a few drunken fights, you watched a girl snort a line off of another girls’ chest, and were almost shoved into the bonfire. After all of this, and the fact that your friends left you alone, you decided it was time to head home.

But, as it turns out, you walked in the opposite direction of the parking lot, getting yourself absolutely lost in the hauntingly beautiful forest. Cursing yourself for your stupidity, you tried to bring up google maps, only to be stopped by that godforsaken icon of ‘no service.’

So, you opted for your phone’s flashlight, trying in vain to figure out where was North and where was South.

“Fucking hell, I know I didn’t walk too far from the campsite, how did I get so lost?” Stumbling once again, you almost fall flat on your face, only to be stopped by a pale hand. The slender, long fingered hand grips the fat of your forearm in a firm grasp, holding you up. Seeing this, a horrified scream leaves your lips before you can stop it, thinking that the thing in front of you was an Onryō.

Looking up, you’re suddenly face to face with a large, breathtaking man in a red and white kimono. His long, red hair is twisted into an intricate updo, highlighting his sharp jawline. That, in turn, shows off his dangling earrings, which just barely brush his cheek. His purple eyes twinkle in your phone’s flashlight, a small smirk quirking his full lips.

“Hello there,” The redhead's voice is smooth, sounding like whipped butter personified, “Are you lost?”

Knowing better than to expose your vulnerability, you shake your head no, “O-oh, no, sir. I’m just heading back to the party. I’m sorry if I bothered you,” You try to wrench your arm from his grip, but he seemingly grabs on harder.

“There’s no need to lie, I heard your grumblings a few moments ago. I’ve also watched your sorry attempts of hiking through the foliage, and I’d be happy to help,” You eye him suspiciously, not trusting him for a second.

“No thank you. I’m not so sure I trust a weird man alone in the forest. I hope you understand,” He laughs at your words, sounding like wind chimes. You shift your feet in discomfort, wondering what is so funny about your cautious words.

“Don’t be silly. There’s a temple near here that I upkeep, and I was walking to the parking lot to head to a 7/11 near here. I’m heading in the same direction as you, so-“ He continues to speak, but you don’t hear a word. You never mentioned the parking lot, and if he was heading there, you’re pretty sure he would’ve just used a path that you carelessly disregarded. Noticing your sudden change of discomfort to extreme fear, he tries to comfort you, “Why that look? I promise I won’t hurt you. Here, why don’t you come to the temple and-“

You don’t give him time to manipulate you, suddenly whipping out your gel pepper spray. Chucking the cap in a random direction, you check that the nozzle is facing him, before spraying at full blast. A loud bark-like scream echoes through the air, as you’re suddenly released by his iron grip. Shoving him over, you start to sprint in the direction you just came from.

“Come back here!” The red haired man yells, a deep growl reverberating through his chest. That urges you to run faster. Flashlight aimed at the ground, you leap and hop over foliage and debris, trying your hardest to evade the freak of a man currently after you. You can hear his footsteps behind you, the forest suddenly silent.

Your body runs cold at the realisation; just what is this man, and why are the critters so afraid of him?

Not deciding to find out, you then run in a zigzag fashion, trying to get him off of your tail. The crunch of sticks and leaves are constant, the loudest ones being the hulking man behind you.

“You can’t outrun me, Pretty Girl!”

Your chase goes on for a while longer, until you see the unmistakable light of a fire. This causes you to go faster, the idea of safety appealing.

But, unfortunately for you, you didn’t notice the undeniable silence ahead of you. When you left, the music was practically earth shattering, along with the chatter of inebriated college kids and the loud noise of their cars and motorcycles.

When you reach the fire, you’re greeted with the sight of a dark wooden structure. It’s a temple, but it looks a lot bigger than a normal Shintō one. In fact, it looks straight out of the fantasy anime your roommate made you watch with her.

Taking your chances with the forest, you turn to run back into the dark green foliage, only to be tackled back first onto the stick covered dirt below. The twigs stab into your uncovered covered skin, drawing blood, as the kimono clad man above you pants in both pain and anger.

He brings his face close to yours, making you turn yours away from his with a whimper. His warm breath fans across your uncovered neck, his purple eyes practically glowing down at you. The white around his irises are bright red and teary, showing the effect your weapon has against him. In the lightly you notice two flattened ears on the top of his head, making you gasp in surprise and confusion. Was this a guardian of the Forest? Or was this a demon here to steal your soul?

“Why must you hurt me? I haven’t done anything to you,” He sounds somewhat hurt that you maced him, but who could blame you? If some creep approaches you in the forest, you fight first, ask questions later.

“Why are you coming after me? There’s no reason for you to chase after me,” One of his rough hands grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him. His mouth is parted slightly, his sharp teeth glinting in the fire light as his face twists into a smirk.

“It’s always fun chasing after prey,” He leans in closer, lips just barely touching yours, “Especially when the prey is as adorable as you. Now, we can do this the hard way, or the easy way; if you let me have you, we can go at your pace. If you don’t, I’ll take you however I want.”

To say you’re shocked is an understatement, “Wha-what do you mean, ‘take me’? Didn’t you just say that you’re going to eat me?”

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. I’m still quite full from the meal I had earlier. I should thank those villagers; without them, I wouldn’t have been able to eat those delicious friends of yours,” All blood leaves your face, did he just say that he ate-

Looking at his kimono, you realise that the red isn’t a pattern at all; it’s blood splatter!

“Oh my god,” You place a shaking hand on his chest, trying to push him away, “What the fuck? Holy shit- is that why the forest is so quiet? They know it’s your feeding time? Holy fuck-“ He silences you with a heated kiss, practically forcing his tongue down your throat. Lithe hands grope at your cropped tank top covered breasts, trying to squeeze the fat underneath, only to be blocked by your push up bra. Shoving with your entire weight, you’re still unable to force him off of you. Without thinking, you bite down on his tongue, drawing out another bark of pain from the ginger.

That gives you enough time to breathe and regain your composure. Trying to wiggle out from underneath the muscular male, you’re quickly lifted and flipped onto your front, face pressed against the dirty ground.

“My mother always told me that females are hard to get, but I never knew it would be this painful,” He spits a mouthful of blood out onto the ground near your head, making you cringe away from that spot, scraping your chest against a particularly sharp twig. A small yelp escapes your throat at the pain, trying in vain to use your arms as a barrier against the sticks and stones below you, “Awe, did my pretty girl hurt herself? That’s okay, I’ll still think that you’re pretty.”

“Get off of me! What are you trying to do? If you’re going to eat me, get over with it already!” Finally being able to push yourself up onto your forearms, you try to buck him off of you, only to hear a high pitched whine echo out from behind you. Freezing in surprise, you peek at him from, only to be met with a ruby red face.

“Did you know that foxes go through a mating season?”

“What the hell does that have to do with any-?” You’re suddenly shoved back onto the floor, tits practically spilling out of your top.

“I’m going to breed your empty womb, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You’re going to bear me many cute pups, and you’re going to stay here with me until the end of your days.”

“Go find some female kitsune! I don’t want to have your babies!” Your stomach scrapes painfully against stones below you, dripping more blood onto the dirt.

“But that’s the thing- you don’t get a choice, Pretty Pretty. You clearly can’t care for yourself! You got lost in the woods, for Gods’ sake! Now, obey your mate, and let me in,” He looks down at your cute mini-skirt, and flips it over your ass, exposing your emerald green thong. His cool fingers ghost over your unblemished ass cheeks, a hitched breath echoing through the Kitsune’s chest, “Oh, pretty girl, did you wear this for me? How did you know my favourite colour?”

“Get off of me! I didn’t do any-“ He suddenly rips your panties from your cute cunt, before shoving them into your open mouth. You try to spit it out, but are unable to. Tears gather in your eyes, as you start to cry. This strange man is about to do the worst thing a person can do, and he doesn’t seem to care about your feelings.

“Don’t cry, I’ll take care of you and our pups,” He spreads your legs open, giving him easier access to your soft pussy, “Ah, there’s your pretty cunt. Everything about you is so pretty, aren’t you lucky? If it weren’t for that and your perfect fertile womb, I would’ve eaten you.”

He kneels on your shins, shoving down your front, arching your ass up into the air.

“You smell amazing. It’s like your body is just calling for my thick seed. Don’t worry, Pretty Girl,

I’ll give it to you.”

You hear his kimono shift, most likely pulling out his cock. This makes you choke on your sobs, as you try to pretend that this moment isn’t happening. That some monster of the forest isn’t about to breed you full of his-

A scream escapes your throat the moment you feel his wet cock head against your unprepared pussy. You thought he’d at least prepare your cunt, but it seems that he’s trying to go in dry. He grunts when he feels you starting to thrash, using the hand that once held his cock to smack your ass harshly.

“Stop it. You can’t change my mind! Jotaro will be so jealous when he finds out I got the most beautiful, fertile, and resourceful mate. Now, hold still,” You don’t understand what he’s talking about, but you can’t help but feel shame. You know his friend’s name, but not his own! The least your rapist could do is tell you his name! As if sending this, he rubs one of your ass cheeks reassuringly, “I suppose you’d like to know your mate’s name, huh? I’m Noriaki Kakyoin. There’s no need for you to say your name, I heard you introduce yourself to those… disgusting humans earlier. But don’t worry, you won’t have to deal with them ever again.”

He releases your ass in favour of gripping his cock once more, pushing its tip into you with some trouble. You scream through your makeshift gag, the pain of him pushing in feeling like he’s tearing your pussy apart.

“Awe, are you a virgin? My mom always said a female’s first time is painful,” You want to shove a stick up his ass unlubed! Let’s see how he likes getting something forced inside of him without preparation! “But don’t worry, you should feel good once I’m fully inside.”

With that, he forces himself in until he’s fully seated inside of you. Another scream escapes your throat, as you feel a small rivulet of blood dribble from your now torn cunt. By this point, you’re hyperventilating in pain, anxiety, and fear. This man is so thick, that you’re pretty sure your pussy will never go back to its original size ever again.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. I knew you were the right one for me,” When he starts to move, that’s when one of your hands claws at one of his that’s resting on your hip. You feel his skin break under your nails, as you try in vain to make him stop. It feels like he’s splitting you in two! “Does my pretty girl feel good?” You shake your head rapidly, drowning in your pained sobs, “Don’t lie, I feel you getting wet.”

Can’t he smell that that’s blood?

You hiccup and wheeze, tears and snot dripping down your pretty face into the dirt. When he starts to buck his hips, you feel like you’re going to throw up. His cock is so heavy inside you, that you feel like he’s rearranging your guts.

“I feel the opening of your womb on my tip, it’s almost like you’re trying to suck my cock into it!” Kakyoin starts to move his hips faster, making your body go limp. It’s almost like your body is going into shock at the severe pain you’re in, “You sure want my pups, even if you claim you don’t. I’m so close to filling you with my seed, so you won’t have to wait any longer to be filled!”

He bucks into you at top speed, his own hips crashing into yours harshly. His heavy sack smacks against your ignored clit, sending small jolts of pleasure through your body. But, it’s not enough to make this easier for you. Your pussy is barely producing any slick, making this a lot harder for you to handle. The next time this happens, you know there’s going to be a next time, you should probably explain to him how to prepare you for his horse cock.

“Shit, shit, I’m gonna fill you up, Pretty Girl. I’m going to make you heavy with five pups, hell, maybe even fifteen! Then once you have them, I’ll fill you up with even more! Doesn’t that sound nice? Your womb will never be lonely again!”

He thrusts into you with three more powerful thrusts, before slamming his entire length inside of you at once. The head of his cock is right up against your womb, so when his entire length starts to swell, you can practically feel it prying at your cervix. More fat tears rain down your face in this rivulets, your fingers digging into the dirt, cutting up your nimble hands. Kakyoin grunts and growls in a deep voice, savouring the way your walls throw around him in pain.

Whilst his cock is fully swollen, he releases all the cum he has into you. The large amount of seed isn’t all able to force its way into your cervix, causing it to pool in the canal of your cunt, bloating your stomach out slightly.

“I can practically smell my seed taking. Your perfect body is accepting me very well, Pretty Pretty. I told you that we’re mates, and this just proves it,” he strokes your head softly, trying to console you as you continue to cry. At this point, he starts to become concerned, why haven’t you stopped crying? “What’s wrong? Didn’t you cum?”

When you don’t shake or nod your head, he releases one of your hips, in favour of yanking your panties out of your mouth, allowing you to breathe with ease and finally speak.

“You’re such a Monster,” You sob, face pressed against the cool packed dirt below you, “I-I can’t believe you-if you were going to rape me why didn’t you prepare me?” He makes a small whimpering noise, not quite understanding your gripe.

“What do you mean?” You start to cry even harder, almost making yourself sick.

“My pussy is torn open! I’m bleeding! The only one who felt nice is you!” You start to gag, unable to catch your breath properly without somewhat choking on your spit and snot, “Now I’m pregnant with your rape babies, and-and it hurts so bad! Get out of me!”

You try to yank yourself off of his inflated cock, but he quickly stops you, trying not to hurt you even more. Looking down, he sees a large pool of blood below the place the both of you are connected. He gasps in shock. Sure, he knew that some girls bleed their first time, but this doesn’t look right!

“What-why are you bleeding so much?”

“Because you tore me open! I hate you! I hate you! I wish you just killed me!”

Whilst he’s still stuck inside you, you continue to cry, which makes him feel even worse. He can’t believe that he hurt you so severely. This was never his intention, after all, both parties are supposed to feel good, are they not?

But now, he’ll never be able to make you love him.

How could you love someone as monstrous as him?

#yandere kakyoin #yandere kakyoin noriaki #yandere kakyoin x reader #kakyoin x reader #Kakyoin Noriaki #tw: noncon #dark fic #yandere jjba #jjba x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader

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thetaoofzoe · 3 years

Text

Fic: Ethan Hunt Must Die 1/1

Pairing: August Walker x YOU

Word Count: 10,420

Summary: You are a medic and a member of what’s left of The Apostles. And it’s not rumour anymore. August Walker is definitely not dead. All you want to do is help him with his cause, kill those responsible for his grave injuries (and foiling his manifesto) and make Ethan Hunt pay. Falling in love with August Walker is just a given ;)

Rating: Mature to Explicit some Violence, sex and fluff and yearning and impetuous kisses, explosions and delicious August Walker. And, this story is not as serious as it may appear, so have fun reading.

Note: If you have been around you’ve seen the original iteration of this story, but maybe not in its entirety. It was originally broken up into 10 parts as A Month of August Walker Challenge. Now, in all of its revamped glory is the complete story all in one place.

Want to read more? Click for my Masterlist

Your contact was a pleasant woman. She’d collected you from the tiny airport in Kashmir and on the way to your destination, she’d offered to buy snack food for you from a nearby shop.

‘The cabin is fully stocked,’ she reasoned pointing to the squat building by the side of the road, ‘but in case you want a Coke or something.’

You did want a Coke in fact and you took her up on the offer. Along with a few cans of cola you grabbed other items – chocolate bars, fishing tackle, and feminine hygiene products. You didn’t know how long you were going to be out there in the middle of nowhere, and you didn’t want to use up the precious bog roll when your cycle eventually came.

The woman was leaning against the side of the battered truck and smoking a cigarette when you stepped out of the shop. Eyeing your purchases, she nodded with approval.

‘Good idea,’ she said, making a vague gesture towards you with her cigarette. ‘We didn’t think about a woman’s needs during such a long excursion. Next time. There are all sorts of painkillers in the stocks though… just so you are aware.’

She put a gloved hand on her lower belly and laughed a little.

‘I know how it can get.’

You smiled, grateful to be sharing this moment with her, woman to woman, and thanked her before getting back into the truck.

‘Is there gonna be a next time?’ you asked, sweeping the seatbelt across your chest and clicking it into place.

She didn’t look at you as she started the truck and set off down the road.

‘I hope this is the last, ‘ she said finally and as it seemed like such a struggle for her to come up with an answer that she seemed satisfied with, you didn’t continue to press the matter.

Settling into the seat, you unwrapped a chocolate bar, and with three large bites, had it stuffed into your mouth. The salty chocolate and nougat were glorious and you moulded the sweet wad into the roof of your mouth so that you could savour it with slow licks. You folded the plastic-coated wrapper into a small square and tucked it in your jacket pocket.

The woman drove along the rough frosty mountain roads as if you two were being chased. She didn’t seem at all phased with how the truck bounced and jumped dangerously close to the edge of the cliff, as if one wrong turn of the wheel wouldn’t send the two of you plunging down into the river below.

That imagery triggered sudden rage in you.

Goddamn you, Ethan Hunt, you thought.

You wanted just two minutes alone with Hunt to make him regret having ever laid eyes on August Walker. Hunt deserved nothing but a long slow torturous death.

Ever since the incident, The Apostles had been split on what to do regarding August Walker. Should he be left out there and forgotten? Or should his remains be recovered and given a proper burial?

The thought that there was nothing left to recover prevailed until reports that August had survived the fall started trickling in. With this new knowledge, it was impossible to prevent the uprising that voted to scour the mountains to find him. This time, your only mission was to man the cabin in the event one of the search teams found him.

‘Not far to the cabin. Ayami is apart of the search team. You know her, yes?’ asked the woman.

‘Yes. I know her.’

‘Good, Ayami planned all of this, coordinated us, and was able to pinpoint a location not far from this cabin.’

Not enough planning for a menstrual cycle, you thought, petulantly.

‘It will work out,’ she continued and nodded. ‘He will be found.’

‘This is the third time someone has,’ you made inverted commas in the air with your fingers, ‘pinpointed his location, only to run into IMF lies. We are wasting precious time. August is alive and we need to find him.’

The woman drove on in silence for a moment.

‘I agree with you, yes. I agree. But what do you suggest that we do? If not this.’

You relented and sighed. You had no idea what to do other than this.

‘If I could snap my fingers…’

You clicked your fingers and she chuckled, clicking hers as well.

‘He would be safe with us,’ she finished for you.

A half hour later, she slowed and finally stopped the truck and pointed through the windscreen at what looked like a stack of fallen trees.

‘Unfortunately, my friend,’ she said. ‘There is a way to drive up to the cabin. However, it is many, many kilometres that way and petrol for me is hard to come by right. It’s easier to drop you here and you take the trail. It’s only a few hours hike.’

You grabbed your rucksack from the foot well, reached over and one-arm hugged the woman and then got out. She did a wide circle turn around and pulled the truck up to where you stood.

‘Good luck, my friend. And take care.’

‘Take care,’ you said. ‘See you soon.’

She gave you a two-fingered salute and drove away.

It was cold that far up in the mountains and the beginning of the trail looked desolate. Securing your rucksack on your back, you began your long trek, and the cabin was a welcome sight after hours of navigating the rocky hard terrain. Inside was small and utilitarian, but it was more than enough for you. You didn’t bother to take off your boots before falling onto the cot and into a deep exhausted sleep.

In the morning, you took stock of your surroundings. The cabin was pretty well-appointed with a wood stove, a table with two chairs, an amazingly comfortable cot and stacks and stacks of supplies. The gold-painted metal ammo closet in the back was comforting to see and you were going to familarise yourself with its contents later. But first, breakfast.

You got up to make coffee and noticed a medium-sized cardboard box sitting on the small dining table by the stove. There was a note.

‘Your name was given to me at the last moment. Here are some things you may need.’

And it was signed, ‘Ayami’.

You slit open the box with your pocket knife and laughed when you saw the contents. Ayami had packaged not only tampons and pads but several different styles of menstrual cups for you and you felt guilty for earlier, being such a brat about the supplies you needed.

‘You planned everything, Ayami,’ you said aloud to the empty room. ‘Thank you.’

You lit the fire in the stove and put a pot on to boil some water. A noise outside pricked your ears. It sounded like the heavy motor of an ATV and out of the noise you picked out the sounds of other engines drawing closer.

Shit! you thought, rushing to the ammo closet at the back of the cabin.

Flinging open the doors, you dragged out a single barrel shotgun, loaded it, and scrambled back to the front cabin door. Peering out through the narrow window you watched as several four-wheelers and one battered Land Rover raced towards the cabin. In a cloud of kicked up dirt and dust, the Rover drove straight up to the door and to your absolute surprise, the passenger door popped open and Ayami jumped out.

You opened the cabin door and came out.

‘Good!’ she shouted over the noise of the engines. ‘You’re here. Get the first aid boxes ready, now!’

You were a medic and understood the urgency in her tone. You ran back to the cabin and were piling bandages, antiseptics, and other items on the table when three men carried in a limp body between them. Ayami strode across the room and captured you in a hug.

‘I am happy to see you,’ she gasped breathlessly and grabbed your hands. ‘We found him!’

With heart crashing against your ribs, you looked to the man being stretched on the cot as Ayami continued.

Oh God… they found him.

‘Somehow some wanderers discovered him months ago and took him in.’

She trailed off and shook her head. She still seemed to be in shock.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ you told her and squeezed her hands. ‘We’re looking after him now. Radio in for helicopter transport. It may take a few days to get someone out here.’

You cleaned your hands and went to assess the situation. August was alive and badly burned, but gladly not beyond your repair. Ayami came back into the cabin after making the call and joined you at the bed.

‘You planned all of this, Ayami,’ you said. ‘You made this happen. What’re our next step?’

Ayami put her hand on your shoulder and smiled viciously.

‘To make Ethan Hunt pay.’

You were wrong.

It didn’t take a few days for the helicopter to arrive. It took two weeks. Although the cabin was well stocked and had nearly everything you needed to tend to August’s wounds, it wasn’t enough.

Ayami wanted to leave and take August the long way through the mountains. They had the power to transport him over land and it was fucking stupid to leave him at the cabin to succumb to something that could be fixed. His body was fighting a raging infection and frankly, he was losing. You explained to her your reasons for why it would be tough on August to try to drive with him through such hard terrain. He was in a fragile state and jostling him all around in an unstable car could exacerbate any internal injuries. A chopper ride would be better.

Ayami understood that, however…

‘We’ve got plenty of antibiotics,’ she said reasonably. ‘Why can’t we give him some?’

‘Because we don’t know what he has. He could have a bacterial or viral infection and just picking something to give him might do more harm than good. I don’t want to take that risk.’

It wasn’t as if you didn’t want to pump him full of all of the pills you had, just to scattershot the infection, but incorrectly dosing him, in his weakened state, might kill him. August Walker was alive and you were going to keep him that way.

So you did your best. With Ayami’s help, you kept him clean and dry and in order to manage his temperature, iced. August, however, foiled your attempts to tend to him effectively. He was delirious and unaware of what was happening to him. More than once you had to extract yourself from his vice-like grip as he held onto you and growled guttural threats of violence to your person. All you could do was try to soothe him and mop his brow and use the aspirin to dull his obvious pain.

During the wait for air transport, you stayed up some nights with August. Sometimes you just sat at his bedside and read by the light of your headlamp. Sometimes you just watched him, held his hand and stroked his hair when nightmares haunted his sleep.

He would heal pretty well, you observed, and, without too much lasting damage to his face. He was fortunate that the hot oil missed his eye, although it ruined his ear. But you knew that too could be reconstructed.

‘We’re gonna get you back on your feet, August,’ you murmured on those nights when he was at his most fitful. ‘And we’re gonna get those people who did this to you.’

Even though you weren’t sure he could even hear you speaking, you continued to encourage and comfort him. It was the least you could do.

‘You met John Lark before?’ Ayami asked over breakfast one morning, using August’s real name for the first time.

‘When he was going by John Lark?’ you asked for clarification and she nodded. ‘No. Not then. He had already assumed the new identity and was in the CIA when I turned up.’

‘He was not always like this,’ she said a bit cryptically.

‘How was he?’

Interest sparked in you.

She shook her head.

‘Just different. Maybe he’ll tell you someday.’

Ayami smiled at you and you turned, alerted by the soft groan coming from the bed.

‘Oh God, he’s waking up again,’ she chuckled and then asked you, ‘Top or bottom.’

You laughed inspite of yourself and gave the choice a moment’s thought. ‘Top’ meant that you got to administer medication, clean up his face and check his bandages, while ‘bottom’ meant that you would have to wrestle with his strong flailing arms and risk getting punched in the face. Ayami looked at you expectantly and you grimaced.

‘I had top last time, so…’

She smiled and got up, patting your arm in passing. ‘Then you get top this time.’

‘Ayami, c’mon,’ you protested rising from the chair. ‘I don’t want to be unfair.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ she said lifting her arms and flexing her biceps. ‘But, I need my workout.’

Ayami needed to stay in Kashmir to tie up some loose ends. So, you said your farewells and parted company when the chopper transport finally arrived.

You, on the other hand, were headed to New Delhi where another contact would meet and relieve you of your August-sitting duties.

Exhausted and battered, it was just after midnight when you finally arrived at the airport. Out through the cloudy bubble heli-window, you saw the second contact rush to the settling helicopter. You unlatched an dragged open the side door.

‘Hello!’ he shouted over the roar of the blades overhead. ‘It’s Janus. You can come with me!’

‘Where am I going?’ you shouted back, not moving from where you were sitting next to August’s prone body.

He was still blissfully unconscious and sleeping quietly.

‘There is a safehouse here. You can rest. We will transport Walker to the small plane over there and continue on to London.’

You shook your head and were able to speak normally when the blades finally shuddered to a stop.

‘I’ll go on,’ you told Janus. ‘I’ll go on, it’s ok. I’ll stay with him.’

Janus looked puzzled.

‘No, you are to go to the safe house. I am to continue on.’

You had come this far. You weren’t going to leave August, so you again declined the offer of a trade.

‘Now. Come on. I’m not going to quibble with you,’ you said, kicking open the other door so that the two men accompanying Janus could wrangle the stretcher out of the chopper.

You watched them carry August off and jumping out of the heli, you turned to Janus.

‘Be well, my friend. But I’ve got it.’

Janus shrugged a little and nodded, seeing that you weren’t going to be swayed.

‘Is it really him?’ he asked and you could hear relief seeping into his voice.

You put your arms around him in a farewell hug.

‘It is,’ you said. ‘You have Ayami to thank for that. Make sure that you do.’

You ran after the two men carrying the stretcher. The men secured the stretcher inside and turned to help you into the back of the plane. You pulled closed the small plane’s door and made sure that August was securely strapped in. It was going to be another long ride to the final safe house.

It was raining in London, and as the small plane approached, the cool precipitation rinsed away grey foggy clouds to reveal the golden city. Through your headset, you listened to the pilot talk to air traffic control and learned that you were headed to Blackbushe Airport.

‘How far is the safe house from the airport?’ you asked the pilot.

‘Not far. Maybe 20 kilometers. Not far.’

You were so ready to put your feet on land that you closed your eyes and envisioned a soft bed, a hot meal, and an even hotter bath. Glancing down at the still sleeping man on the stretcher at your feet, you felt a rise of tender feelings in your heart. Not only had your team recovered August Walker, alive, but you had a personal hand in his convalescence. Reaching down, you touched his face. He felt hot, but not as feverish as before and you were relieved. Elevated fevers for sustained periods of time were dangerous and although he wasn’t out of the woods yet, he was better. You brushed a curl of brown hair off of his forehead and smoothed the edge of your thumb across his eyebrow. Yes, he was going to heal well and regain his strength to be able to fight another day.

Blackbushe Airport was small but efficient and there was a black, solid paneled van waiting for you. You helped the men with the stretcher and once August had been secured, you pulled yourself into the offered front passenger seat. The driver nodded to acknowledge your presence and you put on your seatbelt as the van drove off.

Someone tapping on the window jarred you from the nap you didn’t realise you had fallen into. With a wet grunt, you sat up, reflexively swiped the back of your hand across your mouth, and dried the drool which had pooled in the corner. Hand still to your mouth, you shifted to look through the window. It was the driver and he made a gesture for you to get out.

You nodded to show that you understood and he moved off. Behind you in the cargo part of the van, you could hear men talking and then sounds of strain when they lifted the stretcher. Even unconscious, August wasn’t for the weak or fainthearted. You chuckled at your own analogy, unclipped the seatbelt and opened the door. Your legs wobbled when your feet hit the ground and you pressed back against the closed door until you felt that you could walk without collapsing. It took a while for your legs to finally firm and when they did you followed the men into the medium sized country manor house.

Inside smelt of cedar and pine. Your footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor as you walked into the charming front room and looked up at all of the old portraits and paintings and decorative weapons. Twin staircases, one on each side of the front room, dog-legged up to the next level. You approached a tall round table with a large vase of fresh flowers and walked around it. You peeked into dark rooms and soon found yourself in an equally as charming country kitchen. There was a man in there wearing a black jumper and blue jeans, drinking from a white mug.

‘Ah!’ he said when he saw you. ‘Come in, come in. Coffee?’

Aware that you looked particularly filthy and bedraggled, compared to his crispness, you cleaned your hands on your cargo trousers and stepped into the room.

‘Yes, please.’

The man obliged, saying, ‘It’s only instant, I’m afraid.’

Instant was fine and you didn’t protest when he handed you a cup.

‘And it’s terrible,’ he added with a laugh. ‘I’ve only just arrived and haven’t had a chance to flush out all of the pipes. Everything happened so fast.’

You nodded and drank the metallic tasting coffee without complaint.

‘Ayami, then. Right?’

You knew what he was asking. Ayami was the conductor of this orchestra and she deserved all of the credit.

‘Yes.’

‘Fuck… she’s a legend.’

Finishing the cup without much tasting it, you handed it back to him.

‘I’d like to clean up and make sure that he’s… that August is ok for the night.’

He took the cup and was nodding as he put both yours and his into the sink.

‘Sure, sure. I can do that. There is a room ready for the both of you. Come on, I’ll show you.’

You followed him up the stairs and down a quiet, thickly carpeted hallway which was also lined with gaily painted portraits. Upon reaching the room at the end, he stepped aside to let you go in first.

There was a trio of men in there, that you recognised as the medical team and the room had been set up like a well-stocked hospital room. The lemon yellow wallpaper with its sunflower print was a pleasant contrast to the medical equipment and other paraphernalia. The men greeted you and they all shared a happy look. You knew why and yes, you shared it too. You said nothing as you watched them undress and bathe August, glad that he could finally receive more focused treatment.

‘And my room?’ you asked.

August didn’t need you now and you had to look after yourself. Mr instant coffee led you back down the hall and showed you your bedroom and amenities. When he left you, you threw your rucksack on the floor by the bed, stripped out of your filthy clothes, and immediately ran a bath. When you finally emerged, refreshed, and clean down to your toes, you found a sandwich and cola waiting on the table next to the bed. You devoured it in a few bites but drank the cola slowly as you unpacked your rucksack. All the way at the bottom, and rolled around a pair of thick socks was a clean shirt and sweatpants which you quickly pulled on. You sat on the edge of the bed and finished the cola.

Flopping onto your side and closing your eyes, you intended to rest for only a moment. However, sleep had other ideas.

Sunlight streamed in through the windows behind you and you woke suddenly then rolled over. On the wall at the head of the bed, a pleasant-looking woman smiled down at you from a pastoral painting and you were groggy enough to smile back. Rubbing your face you sat up, yawned, and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, staying there a moment to contemplate the night before. You hadn’t slept that well in a very long time and you were grateful to have finally got some rest. That old bed was a godsend.

After washing and dressing in clean clothes, you stood in the corridor outside your room door and looked down the hallway to where August slept. His door was closed. The scent of coffee wafting up the stairs alerted you that someone else was awake and you wondered if it was Mr Instant coffee down there still flushing out the pipes and drinking metallic tasting coffee. You decided to leave him to it and you walked to August’s room.

You tapped on the door but there was no answer, so you turned the doorknob and let yourself in. August was still asleep. The IV drip bag was half empty and the bandages on his face were bright and clean. He looked much better in the warm morning light and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. You smoothed down the patch of IV tape on the back of his hand and August startled a yelp out of you when he moved.

His eyes were open and you found yourself under the clear scrutiny of the infamous August Walker. Before your inglorious meeting at the cabin, you had never been this close to him. The two of you never spoke nor had you even been in the same room.

His eyes moved all over your face as if hunting for something and you stood still letting him complete his inspection. When recognition finally bloomed in his eyes, he relaxed.

You ventured to put your hand over his.

‘Do you remember me?’ you asked.

‘I remember,’ he answered, voice raspy from disuse.

August fell silent and it seemed to take effort for him to speak.

‘I… remember you read to me.’

Your heart skipped with elation.

‘Yes.’

Breathing out a breath, August closed his eyes.

‘Thank you.’

‘We’ll make him pay, August,’ you said when he was quiet. ‘All of them.’

It didn’t matter that he had succumbed to sleep again and probably didn’t hear you. Ethan Hunt was going to pay.

It was fortunate Mr. Instant Coffee, as you dubbed him, was around to cook and clean because you weren’t about to look after Walker and do the domestic duties as well.

As the weeks drifted by and August grew stronger, you turned your interest away from him and to revenge.

Retribution, you liked to say to yourself. It was a much better word and to pull it off, you needed a team.

Ayami, of course, was on board. She was always up for some violence and you loved her for it. She knew exactly who you needed and how to contact them. And, if you were going to go through with it, all the way, you needed a solid plan. Every piece had to be in place for the whole machine to move forward. No stone could remain unturned.

You spent a lot of time in that country kitchen with plans and schematics and blueprints spread out in front of you on the table. The first order of business was to find the persons responsible; Benji, Ilsa, Luther and Hunt.

Find them, and observe.

‘That’s it,’ you’d told Ayami. ‘Find them and observe. Record their patterns, their travel, their habits, their pubs, markets, clothing stores, everything.’

You made sure to have rotating team members on each target so that said target would not recognise any reoccurring faces and become suspicious. IMF was a clever, skittish bunch and the way to lure them into the trap was to be patient and deliberate.

Early one morning, about three months into your stay at the safe house, a heavy thumping down the stairs distracted you from your research.

You got up, refilled your coffee and then poured a second fresh cup. Returning to the table you put the second cup in the space across from where you had been sitting. For two weeks now, August had been testing his newly found strength and had insisted on getting up and moving around own his own. He’d recently been cut out of his arm cast and was able to navigate his way on crutches. And on mornings after breakfast when he could get himself out of bed, he usually banged down the stairs and hobbled into the kitchen.

After a few days of this, you started preparing a cup of coffee for him. Whether he was looking for coffee or not, you always put out a second cup when you heard him coming down. And August was actually polite and thankful for the gesture. It surprised you. You expected him to be this gruff and grumpy take charge team leader who didn’t have time for underlings. When, in fact, August Walker was a very pleasant man.

‘Morning,’ you heard him say from the kitchen’s doorway.

‘Morning,’ you replied, nodding to the coffee cup.

He took up his regular place across from you, and leaned the crutches against the bench seat.

You looked at him finally. The bandages were all off of his face now (except for the one remaining to protect his damaged ear) and the swelling had gone down.

What was at first considered full-thickness burns were actually only partial-thickness and he could heal without skin grafts.

He looked, you decided, pretty normal. Handsome, in fact and you wanted to reach out to touch him.

He saw you examining him and he made an aborted attempt to touch his face.

‘No, it ahh… it’s good. You look much better. Really,’ you said quickly.

He picked up the coffee and drank slowly.

‘Does it still hurt?’

‘No,’ he said into the cup and changed the subject. ‘What have we got?’

Right back to business, you thought. Of course. None of this ‘feelings’ stuff for him.

‘The only one we got consistent eyes on is Luther. I guess they’re not using him these days, so he’s staying put. He’s in the States and looks to have a vacation home in Florida. If he has a third place, we don’t know about it yet.’

August listened and nodded and you swore you could see a little smile starting to play across his mouth. Not wanting it to disappear, you showed him photos of Ilsa.

‘I think, she thinks she’s clever. At first she was darting around, doing the whole ‘spy’ thing. It was cute. Now, not so much. I’d like to take her… if you agree.’

August looked up at you and that little smile was still there. In fact he looked particularly pleased with you.

‘Don’t worry. Hunt’s for last. We’re saving him for you.’

August held your gaze and you felt a thrill race through you.

‘Excellent,’ he said. ‘I want you to do whatever you want to do. I trust you.’

You brightened considerably and resisted the urge to clap your hands with delight. Having August Walker’s trust had made the day golden.

A few days later, the thumping down the stairs distracted you from your work. Smiling a little, you got up and poured a fresh cup of coffee and sat it on the table across from you. Then as an afterthought, you got up again and plated a few chocolate Hobnobs that Mr. Instant Coffee had bought with the weekly grocery. You had barely put the plate down before August appeared in the kitchen doorway.

Seeing the mid-morning snacks waiting for him, he smiled a little and now down to one crutch from two, he hobbled into the kitchen and sat down in his usual spot across from you.

‘Look at you, speedster,’ you teased.

August’s brows rose with pleasure, but he smothered his growing smile by lifting his cup and drinking the coffee.

‘I prefer your coffee to the other one,’ said August, raising his eyes to meet yours.

You hesitated to meet his gaze, and when you did, the praise in his face melted you.

August quickly looked away and down at the plans on the table between the two of you.

‘So, tell me.’

He gestured with the cup to the papers.

You grinned, feeling pleased with your progress.

‘Ilsa. I finally got a bead on her. And I will be travelling to her location today.’

‘Today?’ he asked, sounding surprised and your brows drew together a little.

‘Too soon? I mean.. do you want to come?’

August shook his head and suddenly looked concerned.

‘I don’t want you rushing into something.’

Ah, was that it?

You reached out to tap the back of his hand with your index finger.

‘Whilst I thoroughly enjoy your concern, there’s no need for it. Do you umm, want a trophy? An eyeball? A finger?’

August was clearly surprised, and your offer startled a laugh out of him.

‘No,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘No, I don’t want any of that. But ah… I appreciate your vigour.’

You smiled at him.

‘You sure?’

He laughed a little, again, and asked, ‘And your flight?’

‘Coupla hours,’ you replied checking your wristwatch.

‘And your plan?’

‘Delicious,’ you promised.

And it was.

Los Angeles was hot and sweltering and you were not prepared for the weather. But you didn’t let that deter you, for you had a mission to accomplish.

You found the target sitting at a table beneath a colourful umbrella at a crowded outdoor cafe.

Carrying several bags emblazoned with names of high-end shops you stopped by her table, made a show of looking into the cafe and then down at the chair across from her.

She looked up at you and you tried a smile.

‘Hi, I am sooo sorry, but do you mind if I just sit here. I am dying in this heat!’

As you were actually dying in the western heat, you knew that you came across sincerely. She took a moment to consider you. Judging you harmless, she nodded to the chair and you collapsed onto it gratefully.

‘Oh, thank you, honey. That’s so good of you. I thought I was going to get all of my shopping over and done with before noon, but you know how it is. Just one more shop, one more try on…. maybe they got those shoes in the back in your size, right? Am I right?

You giggled easily and she nodded, then glanced into the cafe.

‘I gotta wear these gloves to that my hands don’t tan,’ you said watching her. ‘There’s nothing worse than having your arms one colour and your hands 5 shades darker.’

Ignoring you, she raised her hand hoping to alert the waiter standing inside.

He eased up to the table.

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘I ordered my…’

‘Yes, I know ma’am. We are working on it right now, please give us some time. The broiler is currently holding on by a thread. May I offer you a cold drink? On the house?’

You looked at her and she sighed.

‘Sure, go on. You want one?’

Her attention was on you.

You shrugged.

‘Sure! I’ll have what she’s having.’

The two of you chatted amiably for a little while and the waiter returned with your drinks. You immediately sipped at the fizzy fruit drink and put your glass down next to hers.

Several minutes later someone inside shouted, ‘Janie Fellows?’

The woman across from you stirred and then stood up.

‘Finally,’ she said and went inside to pick up her order.

You watched her go and quickly, unobtrusively, dumped the contents of your travel perfume bottle into her glass.

Ilsa returned with a plate brimming with meat and salad and set it on her placemat.

‘Looks good,’ you said admiring the dish. ‘I might get one, but I do need to get on, I think.’

‘You can stay as long as you like,’ she assured you and began her meal.

You sat and chatted whilst she ate and finished her drink.

You were in the middle of a long drawn out story about your imaginary husband when she stopped devouring the rare steak.

Ilsa dropped her fork and you turned towards her.

‘Something wrong?’ you asked, faux concern in your voice as you let your natural accent slip. ‘You’ve gone quite pale… Janie.’

Ilsa’s wide eyes shot up to your face and she spat out her chewed mouthful.

‘I probably overdosed you,’ you said quietly. ‘I mean, you were ten pounds heavier the last time I checked. But you and your hot yoga classes have done wonders. I might take it up myself.’

Eyes bulging as the poison squeezed closed her throat, Ilsa gurgled and staggered upright. The chair screeched on the concrete, fell away and you got up.

‘August Walker says, hello,’ you snarled at her. Then changing your attitude to something more helpless you shouted, ‘Oh My God! I think she’s having a seizure, help, help!’

A crowd began to form allowing you to slip away, but not before giving the thumbs up to Mr. Instant Coffee who had posed as your waiter who had perfectly distracted the mark enough for you to poison her drink.

‘Went well, I take it?’ August asked when you bustled into the kitchen the next morning.

There was coffee waiting for you at your usual spot.

You threw your arms round his neck and gave him a hearty kiss in greeting.

‘Better than you could ever imagine!’ you crowed and left him in stunned silence.

Distracted by the noise coming from the upper floor, you looked up from the laptop. The thumping down the stairs had been sounding a little less clumsy lately, now that August had finally regained control over his healing limbs. You were glad for it, because it meant that the infamous August Walker was out of the woods and on the mend.

You got up, poured a fresh cup of coffee, and was just setting it down when August came into the kitchen.

‘Morning!’ you called brightly, like the little homemaker you fancied yourself to be.

Well, you fancied yourself to be the kind of homemaker who didn’t keep house, but made coffee and assassination plans. You turned the cup so that the handle faced August when he straddled the bench and sat down across from you.

‘Thank you,’ he said picking up the cup and drinking deeply.

Smiling fondly, you considered him a moment and looked at the fresh bandage on his ear.

‘It’s ear day soon, isn’t it?’

Ear day, as you called it, was literally when August got his new outer ear to replace the one that had been damaged. Contacts in one of the world’s leading biotech labs had been cultivating new skin and cartilage from his own cells and were ready for transplantation. August had been putting off the surgery, ever since the fire of killing off the IMF team had been lit. He wanted a clear conscience before proceeding with any additional cosmetic surgery.

August lifted his gaze, but not directly to you. He looked at a spot on the table which was still littered with papers and blueprints and your laptops and a muscle bunched in his jaw, alerting you that he was uncomfortable with this line of discussion. You were never one to back down from a subject you wanted to pursue, so you pressed him gently.

‘I think… well, I think it’s gonna be fine. The surgery will be fine. You’ll have a brand spanking new appendage and everything’s gonna be fine.’

You watched his eyes sweep the length of the table, in an obvious attempt to avoid looking at you.

‘You suffered no hearing loss, on that side, the skin is mending itself nicely and the doctors even said that there was no follicle damage. Those curls will be coming back in no time.’

He scoffed.

‘I don’t care about that.’

‘Yes you do,’ you said with a tiny grin. ‘Yes you do, you care. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t look like this.’

You waved an appraising hand in his direction.

‘August Walker, meet August Walker. He cares about his looks.’

‘I’m not vain,’ August scowled, putting the cup down and finally looking you in the face

You softened your teasing just a little.

‘I didn’t say you were vain. There’s nothing wrong with a man who looks after his appearance. It’s… sexy.’

That stopped him and a spark of pleasure brightened his face.

You continued to lay it on thick.

‘Come now, a good looking guy like you? And you don’t know it? I find that hard to believe.’

He snorted quietly.

‘Do you ever think something that you don’t say?’ he asked, lifting a dark brow.

You leaned in on your elbows.

‘There are loads of things that I think, that I don’t say. That doesn’t mean that I won’t say them eventually.’

August’s lips lengthened into an inquisitive smile.

‘Like?’

‘Like?’ you repeated and decided to come clean. ‘I just said that you were sexy.’

You made an airy, dismissive gesture.

‘That’s not a new thought.’

You felt a chill manifest as a soft, insistent tingling that skittered all along your skin. Everything you’d hidden about your feelings for him was almost all the way out and you couldn’t stop yourself.

‘It’s not new that I’d do anything for the manifesto to be realised,’ you continued.

When August put down the cup, you reached out and clasped both hands over his.

‘That I’d do anything for you, August.’

The passion in your own voice stunned you. Surely, you had once again overstepped his boundaries.

First, it was kissing him without asking, and now this, though August didn’t seem bothered by your audacity. He turned his hands up to enclose yours.

‘And I reward loyalty,’ he answered, voice low and full of promise.

You drew in a long breath through loosely pursed lips, which August seemed to appreciate for his eyes lowered to your wet mouth. His own lips parted in response and you wondered if you climbed across that table and onto his lap, would it have been considered outlandish.

You didn’t think about any of that, as you stood up onto the wooden bench. With his handsome face brimming with delight, August held onto your hands and steadied you as you scrabbled across the table and landed astride his muscular thighs with a satisfied ‘ooof!’

He grimaced from the sudden pressure slamming down on his still tender leg and you were immediately contrite.

‘I’m sorry,’ you murmured, sliding your arms around his neck and curling your fingers into his shaggy curls. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll not play so rough next time.’

‘I like it rough,’ said August, running his hands over your hips to grip you close.

And then you kissed him, softly, fully, feeling his lips come apart beneath yours. Breathing him in, your thoughts ran wild.

I could get used to this. I could indulge in this all day. I could–

Then, ever a man of ill timing, Mr. Instant Coffee bustled into the kitchen, and it took him a moment to realise what he was interrupting.

‘Oh, shite, ok… uhh so that’s happening. Ok, great, but ah, you two… we need to get a move on. The car leaves in ten.’

And then he was gone, leaving you staring at the recently vacated kitchen doorway with your arms dangling over August’s shoulders. Reluctantly, you backed off of August’s lap and smiling, you cupped his cheek, pressed your thumb against the dimple in his chin and walked off to grab your travel bag.

It was back to the States again, the keys of Florida where Luther Stickell was vacationing on a secluded houseboat.

Stickell was not hard to find. His boat was moored in one of the farthest berths and was lit up like Christmas. He was having a party.

So much for keeping a low profile, you thought as you stepped off of the elegant cabin cruiser that had been rented for your mission. Your craft was berthed far enough away from his that no one in Stickell’s party could see August in his scuba gear, stepping off the low deck and into the dark water.

Standing on a nearby wooden piling, a pair of seagulls watched you suspiciously, the way birds do, and you lifted a finger to your lips, shushing them.

Holding a pair of strappy heels in your hand, you walked down the slatted dock between yachts and other smaller boats. You purposefully wore a skimpy sequined dress, in the hopes of talking your way into the party. There were casually dressed men standing on the dock and smoking and they stopped talking as you approached. They didn’t look like bodyguards, but just like regular blokes. Easy to manipulate.

‘Hullo!’ you called happily, flapping your hand at them in greeting, affecting tipsiness. ‘I couldn’t help coming over. I just came from another get-together, but I’m not done partying yet. Ya’ll mind if I… ’

You made a walking motion with your index and middle fingers towards the boat. One of the men smiled and swaggered towards you. He held out a hand which you took and he led you to the edge of the boat, then helped you down the stairs.

Too easy.

There were people milling about on the port deck and some people playing cards inside, but not a lot was going on. It appeared to be at the tail end of the party, where people were trying to drink the last of the booze and eat the last of the food before they were forced to go home. You spotted Luther at the card table. He was laughing around a huge cigar clamped between his front teeth and then he threw the cards down on the table with a triumphant cry. The men sitting there erupted in jeers and hoots as he raked in the pile of money from the centre of the table.

Scanning the area you then went down the stairs to the toilet and stood in the dark narrow corridor thinking about August swimming around beneath your feet as he planted bomb charges against the boat’s hull.

The thought of him down there was strangely arousing.

August was stronger now, strong enough to cause mayhem with his own hands, and it was all you wanted for him. You crouched by the toilet and dug about in your handbag, pulling out one of Ayami’s personal creations – something she’d called her ‘cherry bang bang’. You drew out a black device that was flat on the bottom and round on the top. It looked harmless enough, almost like a little cake, but you knew the massive power packed into that sweetly named bomb. She had given you and August a personal demonstration of the destructive power of her little sweets. You placed a kiss on its glossy surface and adhered it to the underside of the toilet bowl.

‘You are a gem, Ayami,’ you chuckled and pushed upright.

You made your way back to the upper level and moving about unnoticed you planted more cherry bang bangs, even adhering one to each of the fishing chairs bolted to the port side deck.

A chill settled over the harbour. The guests soon drifted inside and eventually left the party altogether.

You walked back to the rented cabin cruiser to find August waiting for you. His hair was curly and damp and there were pressure marks from the dive mask across his brow. You went up on tiptoes to kiss him. August caught you about the waist and wrapped you up in his arms, lifting you to deepen the kiss. Trapped like that against his big, hot body, your heart throbbed excitedly. If he could elicit such wonders from your body with just a kiss and an embrace, you couldn’t imagine what other magic he could work.

‘Ready?’ he asked, bending to put you back on your feet.

You nodded and tossing your shoes aside, went to sprawl on one of the long creme coloured couches. August started the engine and guided the cruiser out of the berth. When you were a safe distance away, he reached for your hand and helped you up to the top deck.

You could see the lights of Stickell’s boat twinkling in the distance. And after about twenty more minutes, once everyone was finally gone, Luther shut off the boat lights. You and August got up from your deck chairs. You held up the binoculars and adjusted them until the houseboat came into sharp focus. All you could see now was the red glow of Luther’s cigar as the man sat out in one of the fishing chairs and enjoyed the rest of his evening.

August put one arm about your waist, big hand splaying across your stomach, and held up the detonator with the other.

‘Two down,’ you said and he depressed the button.

The explosion was brilliant.

Through the binoculars, you watched the boat burn and sink, but August was more interested in kissing the back of your neck and exposed shoulders to pay attention.

‘Mmmm,’ you purred slyly, leaning your head back against his shoulder. ‘Did you like that? Was it good for you?’

‘So good,’ he answered giving you one last kiss before releasing you.

You opened your mouth to say something but the distant sounds of sirens broke the silence.

Time to go, you thought and the both of you disappeared into the night.

You didn’t want to go back to the safehouse right away. As nice as the country house was, being cooped up between those four floral walls drove you crazy. August paid for a few nights at the Shangri-la hotel in London so that you could shower in temperatures above lukewarm, and sleep in a broad bed beneath washing detergent scented sheets.

And when August made love to you on those soft sheets, your earlier conjecture regarding his sexual prowess, did not prepare you for the bliss you experienced with him buried deep inside you.

It was nearly nine in the morning, a few days after your expedition to the Keys, and propped up with a pillow under your armpit, you lay on your side across the hotel bed, a bowl of spag bol, and your open laptop on the white duvet in front of you. You were half under the thick covers and half out of it because the room was warm, but not uncomfortably so. August emerged from the adjoining bathroom, wearing one of the luxurious bathrobes and towelling dry his hair.

He tossed the towel across the footrest by the chair and stretched out on the bed behind you, looking over your shoulder to read the Miami Herald’s bold headline. He slid his hand beneath your tee-shirt and caressed the skin between your shoulder blades. How he figured out that you liked that, still remained a quandary, but you were glad that you didn’t have to ask for it.

‘Oh, dear,’ you said feigning distress. ‘Did you hear about the accident that happened in Florida? Tsk… such a shame.’

‘Is he dead?’ asked August, as he nuzzled your shoulder.

‘Yes, sir,’ you teased, reaching back to playfully push him off. ‘You are not paying attention.’

‘I am. I’m paying attention to what’s important.’

The implication of his statement drifted right over your head as you were too focused on proving him wrong.

He kissed your neck again and grunted when you jabbed him with an elbow.

‘Well, if you were paying attention to what was important, you’d know that…’

‘That Dunn is here in London,’ August finished for you and continued to lazily caress your back.

That shut you right up. How did he know?

‘Of course, you knew,’ you chuckled.

‘I suggest,’ said August, changing the subject and lifting his head to take your earlobe between his lips. ‘We take one more day here and then find him.’

As he spoke, August slid his hands beneath you, turned you away from the laptop and pulled you atop him. You wriggled with delight, and grasping the robe’s belt, you pulled the knot free and let it fall open.

‘Just one day?’ you asked, sliding down the length of his body to ease his cock into your mouth.

‘Anything!’ he gasped, the heat of your mouth robbing him of coherent through. ‘Whatever you want.’

You wanted at least two extra weeks after the mission.

When you woke hours later, August was gone. There was a note left for you on the nightstand and in his neat print he’d written, ‘Supply Run.’

You stretched under the duvet and tapped the stiff cardstock against your lower lip.

Supply Run either mean food, or guns and knowing August, it was probably the latter. You were just raiding the over-stocked minibar refrigerator when he returned to the hotel room, carrying a long black duffel which he dropped onto the chaise at the end of the bed.

‘Guns,’ you said aloud, looking up from the chilled box of chocolate.

‘What?’ he asked, shrugging out of his jacket.

You smiled and shook your head and switched on BBC World Service.

Unzipping the duffel, August asked, ‘what do you know about Sage Software?’

‘Nothing,’ you answered truthfully. ‘Who are they?’

‘They supply small business software. Dunn is working with them and hacking them.’

Taking the chocolates to the bed, you opened your laptop and searched the business. With a laugh, you rolled over onto your back and looked up at August with interest. He was smiling slightly back at you.

‘Well, what do you know?’ you said with amusement. ‘Sage is located in the Shard, which is… ’

August nodded to you and his grin widened.

‘Right downstairs,’ he finished.

‘Did you plan this? Getting a room here because he was downstairs?’ you giggled, when he leaned over to kiss you.

‘Of course. Leave nothing to chance, Princess.’

Well, that nickname was new, you thought, delighted.

‘What’s the plan, then?’

August stretched out on his back next to you and folded his hands on his belly.

‘He’s got an office on the 13th and is there most nights.’

‘Most nights,’ you repeated and waited for him to finish his thought.

‘Tonight.’

Dunn was surprisingly easy to pick off. You had expected for him to have cameras and monitors and other high tech stuff to alert him to the presence of anyone who came unannounced to his office. And, you were surprised that /he/ was surprised when August quietly opened the thin office door and let himself in.

You stayed in the corridor and watched the scene unfold through the narrow decorative glass panel next to the door.

Dunn obviously recognised and remembered August, because he bolted out of his swivel chair and threw himself against the wall behind him.

‘I thought you were dead!’ you heard him shout before the silenced round splattered him across the frog poster that announced ‘work hard, play hard, live hard’.

You clapped lightly as August exited the office.

‘Well done, baby,’ you praised him. ‘But come on. I heard the lift bell. It would be stupid of us to get caught.’

All the little piggies had gone to slaughter. All except one.

Ethan Hunt was not a stupid man.

In fact, he was quite the opposite. He was cunning and clever and suspicious which were characteristics that helped him to remain one of the top Mi6 agents.

He also had a golden streak of very good luck and August Walker was just about to ruin that man’s whole career.

‘He went squirrely, ’ said Ayami who was pawing through a tin of broken Danish butter cookies from where she sat perched on the kitchen counter-top.

Two weeks after you returned from the Dunn business, Ayami just turned up at the country safe-house. Much to your delight, you’d found her one morning sitting at the kitchen table having a bagel and cream tea. And you knew why she was there. Things were winding up to the big payoff and the team needed to be as consolidated as possible.

‘What does that mean?’ you asked her but it was Mr. Instant Coffee who answered.

‘Means that he knew what’s good for him and went underground.’

‘Because all of his peeps were getting murdered,’ Ayami finished cheerfully and you half expected her and Instant Coffee to slap hands in a celebratory high-five.

August sat silently in his usual place, thoughtfully turning the small white coffee cup in a circle on the table.

‘Last time he was seen?’ he asked finally.

‘Park hotel, Berlin,’ Instant Coffee read from the reports supplied by the ‘boots on the ground’ team. ‘Been there for about a week, but he hasn’t really stayed one place for more than that. We should have moved earlier.’

‘No,’ said August, not looking at him, but at the cup. ‘No, we want to give him enough rope to hang himself. Let him get complacent.’

‘Do we have time to let him get complacent?’ Instant Coffee said. ‘I mean, the longer we wait, the more time he’ll have to burrow in like a fucking tick.’

You looked at Instant Coffee for a moment. He did have a point.

‘Okay,’ August replied easily. ‘You’re right.’

At that moment, your respect for August Walker increased ten-fold. That he was able to take in the opinion of the other members of his team was unbearably sexy. He may have earned a little leg over for later that night.

‘I’m going alone,’ August announced finally, drawing the sharp attention of everyone in the room.

You reined your own reaction because an emotional response in that instant would have been inappropriate. You knew exactly why August wanted to hunt down Ethan alone. Hunt had not only gravely wounded August’s body but also his pride. His revenge was personal.

‘That’s probably not a good idea,’ said Instant Coffee, obviously feeling confident that he had scored a few brownie points a few moments earlier.

August scowled and looked to you. Meeting his gaze, you nodded once.

‘August should face Hunt alone,’ you said to the room and then to him, added, ‘but I don’t think you should go alone.’

There was so much gratefulness in his eyes that you felt embarrassed and looked away. You didn’t want August to see the answering distress in your eyes. If the fight on the cliff side had been fair, and luck hadn’t been on Hunt’s side, August wouldn’t have lost. Tossing August over the edge was poor sportsmanship. You were afraid that Hunt would employ other clever tricks and defeat August for the second time. And now that August wanted to take on the IMF leader alone ensured that he would be left vulnerable to losing the upper hand.

You didn’t want to lose him again, but you remained silent. This was ultimately August’s decision and he had made his choice.

The two of you didn’t speak much on the trip to Berlin. There wasn’t much to say. You didn’t dare express to him your fears, because that would only serve to distract him with your possibly misplaced doubt. And distraction was the last thing August needed.

When he pulled up to a local hotel to drop you off, you stayed in the car, sitting quietly for a moment, unsure what to do or say. Sighing, you turned to him and reached to cup his cheek.

‘See you soon,’ you encouraged him. ‘Bring me a trophy.’

August nodded and you got out of the car.

Come back to me, you thought watching the car disappear in the afternoon traffic.

Your room faced the Berliner Fernsehturm and you could hear music from the festival going on in the square below. You took a long hot shower and stretched on the surprisingly comfortable bed. It wasn’t the Shangri-la, but it was charming and it wasn’t long before you fell asleep.

The room door thunking shut as if a heavy weight collapsed against it awoke you hours later. With a gasp, you shot upright and reached for your weapon. You couldn’t remember where the light switch was, so when you scrambled up from the bed, you backed up to the table under the window and jerked open the curtains to let in the artificial outdoor light.

The scent of sulphur and petrol filled the room and as your eyes slowly adjusted to the differences in the light you could just make out the bulky form sitting on the floor against the door. You knew that form as the impression of it was etched on your own flesh.

You put your weapon aside and padded barefoot across the hardwood floor, grabbing a towel and wetting it as you passed the small bathroom alcove. You crouched before the shadowed figure and put your hand beneath his chin. You lifted his face to the light and it was clear that Hunt had given August a run for his money.

You gently cleaned the dried blood from his mouth and chin, carefully working it out of his moustache and scruff.

You wanted to say something reassuring, something positive, but you were too overwhelmed with relief.

‘Well,’ you murmured, stroking his face. ‘I hate to see the other guy.’

August was silent and you hoped you hadn’t over stepped the line.

He then held up a small package wrapped neatly in butcher’s paper and tied with white twine. You took it from him, pulled the string and the paper unfolded to reveal your trophy. Holding it up to the light, it took a moment for you to recognise the carefully extracted evidence of Hunt’s death and you smiled.

‘Come on, you big brute,’ you said fondly, attempting to pull him up from the floor.

When August didn’t budge, you stopped straining against his weight and gasped with exertion.

‘You’re gonna have to help me here, babe!’

Groaning miserably, August managed to get his feet beneath him using the door and you to heave himself from the floor. You struggled to get him out of his clothes and under the soft yellow light above the sink you examined him. Big swollen bruises bloomed across his chest and back accompanied by several shallow scrapes and slashes. You wasted no time washing him up, patching his wounds, and getting him into bed.

Lying on his belly, August was still asleep when you woke the next morning. You went to the minibar refrigerator, withdrew your trophy and admired it in the morning sunlight. Your mobile beeped.

It was a message from Ayami.

‘Tell your boyfriend to be a little less conspicuous next time, ok?’ she’d written.

Curious, and glancing at August’s sleeping form, you rang her.

‘What’s that mean?’ you asked when she answered.

‘I mean that August didn’t need to leave that fucker’s burning corpse in the warehouse. He damn near burned down the place.’

‘He was obviously sending them a message,’ you answered, smiling gleefully, proud of your little murder puppy.

‘I can understand that,’ she shot back sounding uncharacteristically irritable. ‘But that also earned us more attention than we wanted.’

You sobered.

‘Is this something that needs to be taken care of?’

‘It’s already handled,’ she answered and some of her good humour crept back into her voice.

You sighed and relaxed, wrapping an arm about your midsection.

‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ you said after a moment with no conviction in your voice and she laughed incredulously.

‘When are you coming back?’ she asked, changing the subject.

‘I dunno. Depends on what August wants.’

‘Ok, you two lovebirds hash it out and I’ll see you… whenever.’

‘Thanks, Ayami. I love you!’

‘Get something from the Wall museum for me, ok?’

You disconnected the call and tossed aside the mobile.

Feeling a warm sense of well-being, you re-wrapped your trophy and stored it in the refrigerator again. Climbing into bed next to August, you lifted his arm, crawled beneath it, and curled your body against him.

August had exacted his revenge and you felt satisfied for him. But you weren’t sure what was going to happen now. The mission that had consumed so much of your year was over. You felt un-moored and a little panicked, but when August tightened his arm round you, your hamster wheel of thoughts scattered.

There was time to worry later, now in the heat of August’s embrace was peace and with a small smile still on your lips, you put your head against him and slept.

-end

#Henry Cavill #August Walker #August Walker x reader #Henry Cavill smut #ethan hunt must die #napolwon solo #man of steel #clark kent #geralt #the witcher #napoleon solo

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crazybutgood · 3 years

Text

International Tea Day!

(Drarry tea blend by Ela Spearlot)

International Tea Day is celebrated on 15th Dec in many tea-producing countries since 2005. Apparently, the UN changed the date to 21 May this year and I didn’t know until recently :( Oh well, I’m still going to celebrate it today, and I thought I’d use this opportunity to do something using two of my absolute favourite things: tea and Drarry. Here are some lovely fics involving tea that will warm you up like a good, steaming cuppa <3 (special thanks to @curlyy-hair-dont-care for her great feedback and for helping me put this together, and to @sitp-recs for your helpful tips and kind words)

Bite-sized:

Tea at three by @dorthyanndrarry (T, ~8.9k)

Draco Malfoy is the head potion brewer for the Ministry's onsite supply. Every day at three he goes to the nearest break room which coincidentally happens to be the auror break room, where he always seems to run into Harry Potter, who might also be waiting just for him. It's most certainly not the highlight of his day and he certainly doesn't hold anything other than friendly feelings towards Potter. It's just tea. Nothing more than tea at three.

A sweet fic where these two dorks finally get together with some help from their friends. Warnings for blood and injury in one scene.

A special blend of you and me by germankitty (T, 4.5k)

Draco finds a bunch of letters in Professor Snape's effects that were written by Lily Evans to her best friend at school, Marlene McKinnon. He passes them on to Harry, who consequently starts his own correspondence with Draco. (inspired by Tea and Lost Letters: Lily to Marlene by Kikimay)

A charming epistolary fic, featuring a great selection of teas, snarky and amusing letters that become progressively less formal and more intimate, and a delightful surprise by Draco at the end.

Portkey for Tea by @lettersbyelise (T, ~1.8k)

Draco is doing a two months residency at a Wizarding hospital in San Diego. Harry misses him too much to wait for him to come back to England.

How far would you travel for a special someone a cup of tea? Lovely established relationship fic with the two missing each other and Harry doing something about it.

Red Roses and Rousing Rumours by @dracogotgame (T, ~1.4k)

Draco's taste for rose water tea puts him in hot water.

A super cute one-shot where a misunderstanding on Harry’s part leads to Draco snagging a date with him (after being asked out in the sweetest way!)

Prompts: I love you - Over a Cup of Tea by @cibeewastaken (G, 362)

(this was my ask lol) Short one-shot of soft moments and tea flowers.

Prompts: I love you - On a sunny Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair by @cibeewastaken (G, 745)

Another lovely one-shot with sun tea and little Teddy trying to cheer Draco up. Featuring Teddy’s sweet innocence, shy boys in love and a confession that will warm your heart.

Why Is Our Teapot Wearing a Hat? by @ladderofyears (G, microfic, 50)

Adorable microfic based on the prompt ‘cosy’.

Rotten work by @prolix- (T, 792)

You start to cry after the war.

You tell Ron and Hermione that it's nothing, that it'll pass. You're just exhausted. It’s more than that, of course it is, but they don't question it. And you learn to hide the fact that you can still be found hunched over your kitchen sink after a party, fat tears rolling down your face, years after the war has passed.

He knows better.

Heart-achingly beautiful fic with lovely tea metaphors. Featuring sad yet tender moments between the boys, healing and hope. Warnings for implied/referenced PTSD, angst, crying and hurt/comfort)

Curl up with a cuppa to enjoy these longer fics:

Where There is Tea by @bafflinghaze (T, ~12.6k)

Somewhere in London, overlooking a garden, sits a little tea room. There, Harry finds tea, distraction, books, conversation, inspiration, himself, and Draco Malfoy.

Featuring Tea Master!Draco and Writer!Harry, this is a heartwarming story of supportive friends, coming out, self-discovery and a lovely buildup of friendship between Harry and Draco that blossoms into something more. Lots of amazing and familiar teas to look out for that you wish you were tasting along with the patrons at Draco’s tea shop.

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop (E, ~70k)

It's Potter's fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It's been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco's getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always. At first, though, the time loop seems liberating. For the first time in his life, he can do anything, say anything, be anything, without consequence. But the more Draco repeats the day, the more he realises the uncomfortable truth: he's falling head over heels for the speccy git. And suddenly, the time loop feels like a trap. For how can he ever get Harry to love him back when time is, quite literally, against him?

Draco’s stuck in a time loop until he figures out what he has to do to get out of it — learning, growing and becoming a better person with much help from his mother, Hagrid, and Harry, and conversations over tea.

Headlights in the Snow by Saras_Girl (M, ~71.6k)

What’s big and purple and smells like tea? Harry is about to find out.

Advent fic 2016.

Harry has bizarre adventures with Knight Bus conductor Draco and the lovely passengers. A cosy Christmas advent getting-together fic featuring fun bus rides and on-board tea.

Special mention of fics that I associate with tea also kind of in order to remember them:

For the greater good by @jadepresley (E, ~62k)

When Harry and Draco discover they’ve been bonded to one another, neither one of them is prepared for the secrets they slowly begin to uncover.

Together, they learn that they can’t escape their past, or the things that have been left hidden there, and that sometimes the only way to move forward is to look back.

An accidental bonding fic that I absolutely adore

Malfoy rolls his eyes. “I’m not a monster, Potter, you arsehole. Though I do think you’re delusional if you think the whole wizarding world doesn’t love you.”

Harry shakes his head. “No. They love the idea of me. They love the stories. But they don’t… they don’t know how I take my tea in the morning, do they?”

“Excuse me?”

Harry flushes. He hadn’t meant to say that. Bloody Firewhisky. “It’s just this thing I believe. And Emmet — my ex — never knew. It’s… nevermind, you’ll think it's stupid.”

“That’s definitely possible,” Malfoy agrees seriously. “But you should tell me anyway.”

“You’re a prat, you know,” Harry tells him. Malfoy just smirks, making Harry sigh. “Fine,” he concedes. “It’s just... The way you take your tea is one of those small details about yourself that no one else would really know unless they asked. But... someone who really gives a shit about you would know — they’d ask or they’d notice — because they’d care enough to want to know. And Emmet... well, he just never cared enough about me to learn how I take my tea.”

I love that this fic uses this idea, partly also because this is something I’ve thought of too, not just for romantic relationships but relationships in general, and I was so happy to see it used in this fic.

All Our Secrets Laid Bare by @firethesound (E, ~149.5k)

Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.

Discovering this fic was one of the best things ever. It’s an emotional roller coaster. Harry and Draco eventually go from polite coworkers, to tentative friends, to lovers — of course with a lot of drama and angst in between. These two bicker about so many things. One of them is how Harry never makes the tea hot enough, and it’s used throughout the fic in many important and special moments of their relationship.

Happy reading!

#international tea day #fic rec #drarry rec list #mine #tea #drarry #cbg fic rec

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dastardlydandelion · 3 years

Note

So...what kind of horror movie would you write featuring the Hargrove/ Mayfield family? (That you haven't written already lol)

oh boy, u may regret asking me this bc i am indecisive af and i can’t pick just one!

two that i'm actually writing are max as (g is for) ghostface killer in the abcs of neil’s death and also the max + tory nichols werewolf movie fic outlined here. also some more misc gorror junk bc i’m a demon and esp horny for susan wearing blood splatter. but more ideas commence below:

horror movie #1: another creature feature! awhile back @lucdarling sent me an ask abt max + billy hiding smth from susan and her like, playing along, pretending she doesn't know, and one of the scenarios that popped in my head was them keeping a baby bat as a pet. max finds it and she’s only like six or seven, and she thinks it’s going to turn into a vampire. so here is that scenario except horror edition: baby bat is actually a vampire type creature. not rly a vampire like, what’s prolly popping into ur head, like an undead human like dracula or smth, but like a bat monster that sucks blood.

billy being a lil older doesn’t actually think the bat is going to turn into a vampire. he makes fun of max for believing this, but he helps her take care of it anyway bc he thinks it’s cool. susan, like in the non-horror version, knows abt the bat but plays dumb bc she’s feeling a lot of guilt abt max’s difficulty adjusting to the blended fam (as of rn tho, neil has yet to reveal his abusive nature. the red flags are not yet red, more of a brownish maroon, and he is on his best behavior almost all the time, showering susan + max with affection and keeping the swears out of his mouth when he scolds billy in front of them) and knows the lil furry baby makes her happy. she tacitly cleans up after the bat whenever the kids miss a spot (bats poop a lot, dude) and distracts neil, deterring him from discovering it whenever he gets close.

baby bat gets rly big rly fast. and the older it gets, the more it starts to look monstrous. it still has bat features but it’s just like, different. its fangs grow suspiciously long, its hooks grow suspiciously long. its feet are elongated. a dorsal ridge emerges from its spine, spikes at first just flesh but soft fur rather like peach fuzz eventually sprouting. billy catches on that smth is strange abt this animal when it's as long as his forearm after two wks and still growing. he nearly shits a brick when the bat is clinging to his sweater one day and he steps in front of a mirror and only his reflection looks back at him— no bat.

max laughs at him all like, “stupid brother, ofc there’s no reflection. nosferatu is a vampire, vampires don’t have reflections.” 😂

susan catches a glimpse of the thing when nosferatu crawls out of the home max built it in her closet the same wk billy realizes it doesn’t have a reflection, and also almost shits a brick. she doesn’t know what it is, but it’s NOT a fucking bat. not a normal one, anyway! cue a comedy scene where she’s chasing it around the house with a butterfly net and it’s always one flap *ba dum tss* ahead of her, flying just out of reach. she suddenly regrets not getting rid of it sooner, scolding herself for ever allowing her daughter to keep a wild animal.

she can’t catch it. max comes home, susan tells her she needs to get rid of it. max cries, flips her the bird, refuses. billy tho…billy has mixed feelings. he loves nosferatu but he’s worried it’s going to get dangerous. he loves his dad and his dad is dangerous too. he’s stressed out enough, always on edge, knowing that one way or the other, neil is going to hurt him again. he’s already waiting for his dad to hurt him, he doesn’t need the added stress of waiting for nosferatu to hurt him too. and while max is 100% nosferatu’s favorite, it likes billy too. billy’s been handling it since it could fit in the palm of his hand, it trusts him much more than it trusts susan and doesn’t know any different when billy takes it out of the closet when max isn’t around.

billy frees nosferatu at an abandoned farm. there are always bats flying out of the old silo adjacent to the dilapidated barn. while he knows nosferatu isn’t a *normal* bat, it’s still bat like enough that he thinks it might make friends and be happy here…

yeah, that doesn’t stick. before long, nosferatu is feasting on that colony. leeches the blood out of a couple bats nightly. the number of bats increases with nosferatu’s size. meanwhile, max mourns her missing friend. she’s sullen af and won’t speak to susan at all. she thinks susan is the one who got rid of nosferatu. billy never fesses up and susan doesn’t contradict max’s assumption bc she wants the step-siblings to get along.

neil, meanwhile, is getting more comfortable. those maroon flags are slowly but surely brightening to scarlet. he starts sabotaging susan’s plans with her friends, trying to keep her around the house more and more, quietly but steadily eroding her relationships with other people. he’s getting more visibly aggressive when he disciplines billy. he curses him out with a virulent venom that dunks susan’s stomach in ice water and scares max so badly, she runs to susan and hides behind her even though she’s still so mad that susan got rid of her beloved baby vampire.

nosferatu’s appetite surpasses what the bat colony can offer. it’s like the size of a ten yr old human child now. fucker’s big. it doesn’t just have fangs on top, but tusks on bottom. it can’t go out in the sunlight anymore, the sun sears its flesh. it misses max a lot and before, it wasn’t strong enough to fly back to her house. but now it is. it’s extremely strong, actually.

so bc it's hungry, nosferatu grabs a snack along the way. some nameless rando, it swoops down and sucks dry. nourished and much happier, nosferatu makes its way back home. patiently waits outside of max’s bedroom in the moonlight, tapping its hook against the window until she wakes up. initially max is a lil startled— nosferatu looks so different, there’s a beat before she recognizes it— him?? yk, ig it’s male, the og nosferatu was a guy. sure, why not, nosferatu is a boy now.

once she realizes who it is, she is so! happy! max opens the window and embraces her friend. she isn’t freaked out by the blood on its fangs. she’s always known nosferatu is a vampire, albeit, she was thinking he’d look more like dracula than this bat-monster-thingy.

nosferatu moves back into max’s closet. it hangs upside-down from her rod by its weird, elongated feet. we get more shots of nosferatu sucking rando ppl dry at night, tho he remains gentle with max. when max drags billy in to show her he came back, nosferatu is less friendly with him. he’s not aggressive with billy, but he is standoffish. nosferatu’s thought process is somewhere between human and animal. he doesn’t quite cognitively understand that billy took him to the farm with the intent of getting rid of him, but he does understand that the last time he clung to billy, billy left him alone and never came back. max puts two and two together, and realizes it was billy who “stole” her friend. she yells at him a lot, he yells back, she then ices him out.

billy acts out bc he’s upset. runs away, thinks he’s going to find his mom…the cops find him first and call neil. neil is rly embarrassed and pissed abt the whole thing. he breaks down and beats billy in front of the mayfields for the first time. nosferatu smells the blood and it’s time for the main event! we love dead!neil, yes, we do.

nosferatu flies out the closet and right into the living room where billy’s bleeding and teary but biting his lip so they don’t actually fall. susan’s covering max’s eyes but so shocked and tbh, FRIGHTENED, she doesn’t move a muscle beyond that. neil’s got the belt raised, preparing to bring it down again, and nosferatu smashes right into him. neil stumbles, turns back to see this freaky monster looking thing. proceeds to whip the belt at nosferatu. tries to fight him off with the belt and it doesn’t accomplish much beyond pissing him off more— nosferatu, like most classic vampire types, has a healing factor!

max rips her mom’s hands off her face in time to see her pet sink its fangs into her stepdad’s throat. nosferatu sucks neil dry. billy’s a little dazed, not quite frightened. susan is just dead ass frozen, too scared to scream, even. nosferatu crawls over to billy and nudges at him, making sure he’s in once piece and forgiving him in the same go. max darts over and that snaps susan out of her stupor, but she isn’t as fast as our blood-sucking bat monster.

nosferatu stretches his wings out and with a truly impressive wingspan, hugs both of the kids. <3

horror movie #2: a haunting! this one opens with a bang. it’s a tragic horror, beware. we’re in hawkins post s3. billy died at starcourt mall. neil’s obvi had a longstanding abusive mindset and abusive behavior, but he rly takes his grief out on susan and max. mostly susan. she does her best to protect max however she can, whether that means shielding her w her body, sending her out of the house, getting neil’s goat to inspire his ire in max’s place, etc. but sue simply isn’t around all the time and when she isn’t, but max is, well. yk.

one day neil comes home early (bc he lost his job for a violent outburst, tbh) and discovers susan packing a suitcase.

sue fights hard. she rly does. but neil is bigger, heavier, crueler, and to boot, he caught her completely unawares. he kills her. and no, no it’s not some accidental thing where neil makes one bad move rage-blind. he strangles her with his belt. she’s clawing at his arms and making these horrible choked, trapped animal noises. thrashes and twists her body with everything she has trying to get him off but he’s so strong, his grip is unrelenting, and she's growing weaker, lightheaded with the lack of oxygen. strangulation can induce incontinence and when susan blacks out, her piss streams to the hardwood— neil hears that as much as he felt the clawing and heard the noises, even now he could stop, but he doesn’t. he just. doesn’t think his wife has the right to leave him, esp not after his son just did.

neil burns the body and the suitcase in the woods while max is at school. max has been spending as much time as she can (and often with sue’s prompting) outside of the house, so it actually takes her about two days to realize her mother isn’t around. neil tells a pretty convincing story about how susan abandoned them, voice saturated with apology and sorrow. he takes her out for a fancy dinner and promises he’s going to be a better father-- that being a better father is the least he can do now that her mother abandoned her and they are alone in their grief.

max doesn’t know what to think. she’s been preoccupied with her own grief and pain. she finds it hard to believe her mother would just leave her to neil’s wrath. she has a lot of hangups with susan and anger toward her for marrying neil and not getting them out sooner, but she’s also old enough to realize there would be risks involved with that. it’s hard to reconcile the memory of her mother just last wk pinning max to the wall to protect her from neil’s blows with her own bod just abruptly taking off without a word in the middle of the night. but hey, maybe that’s why susan left. maybe she got sick of protecting her, maybe the pain got to be too much and she turned tail.

but also…it’s early october now, abt three months after billy’s death but still fairly warm outside. yet neil is wearing long sleeves. neil never used to button his collared shirts all the way up, and yet. every collar is buttoned. also, mom’s car is still here. why would mom leave without her car?

that ceramic pelican she loved so much is still here too, on the mantle in the living room. it doesn’t seem like the kind of thing she would leave behind, she's had it since max was a baby.

max almost wants to believe neil because she’d rather her mother abandoned her than be dead somewhere, rotting in a storage locker or a hole in the ground. under the earth with the worms, just like billy. max has the worst feeling low in the pit of her gut. she thinks she knows the truth. she thinks abt going to hopper and hesitates bc she’s not sure she could handle it if he actually found smth. or what would happen to her if he did, where she would be sent, who she would end up with.

this movie would be more on the ambiguous end of things. an arthouse horror, if u will.

the days turn into wks and neil is crawling in his skin. the viewer isn’t sure if the shadows he’s seeing, always, always susan-shaped shadows, are of a ghostly nature or if he’s just hallucinating out of guilt. but the signs gradually point to the former— that smth paranormal is indeed going on. bc those scratches and bite marks susan left in his skin?

they do not heal. they do not get infected. they do not become necrotic. but they do not heal, either. days turn into wks and the wounds still look fresh, like she just left them moments ago. neil can’t wear light colors anymore because his wounds weep red into the fabric. he isn’t just seeing susan’s shadows either, he’s smelling her.

he washes his sheets and pillowcases a dozen times and the scent of her shampoo, her lotion, it’s like it’s woven into the fibers. he walks into the hallway and chokes on the aroma of susan’s perfume. he wonders if max is screwing with him, if max figured it out and she’s trying to torture him into a confession. one day he stomps off to max's bedroom, furious, adamant on confronting her. he grabs her doorknob, prepared to yank it open and then lets out a yelp, jerking his hand back with a sudden sharp pain.

it feels like a bee sting (which would be esp bad for this fucker in anything i write, bc i headcanon him as being allergic). but there’s no stinger. no injury. nothing. neil is freaked out enough that he backs down.

max, on the other hand, is getting gentler signs. when she turns the radio dial in the camaro, it’s somehow always her mom’s favorite songs that come thru the speakers. when she goes to pull clothes out of her drawers in the morning, she discovers that the things she’d just shoved inside in wrinkled balls are perfectly folded, neat as a pin, exactly like how susan always folded. susan was always fond of cardinals and suddenly max is seeing cardinals, pretty red cardinals, in just abt erry tree and shrub.

neil wakes up one night to his wife’s voice whispering “boo” right in his ear. he throws the covers off and discovers ashes in the bed. he doesn’t smell susan’s shampoo or lotion anymore, he smells the kerosine he’d poured all over her body.

his wounds still won’t heal. whenever he looks in the mirror, he catches a glimpse of susan walking past behind him, peering at him from her peripheral. he whips around, heart hammering, but there’s never any tangible person there.

max is almost certain her mother is dead at this point. neil’s been so bizarrely nice to her lately. she never believed in ghosts but her experiences with the upside-down broadened her perception of reality. she doesn’t know how else to explain the songs, the cardinals, the folded clothes. the way that these days, whenever she does feel fear toward neil, it just fades away. her fear melts like popsicles in the sun, immediately replaced by the sensation of a warm, maternal hug, as if arms she can’t see are trying to reassure her she truly doesn’t need to be afraid of him anymore.

in fact, max feels so unafraid of neil and brave, that one night she calls him out on it. he’s grizzled and unshaven in his recliner, beer in hand. she steps in front of the television he’s vacantly fixated on and folds her arms across her chest.

“you killed my mom, didn’t you?”

quick as a flash, neil leaps to his feet. he brings his arm back like he’s going to strike her and susan’s ceramic pelican on the mantle explodes into shards. the lights flicker, the television program cuts to snow with a static roar. every other knickknack on the mantle rattles and framed photos tumble off the wall.

neil very wisely lowers his hand. he slumps, boneless. he doesn’t say a word. max sees the answer in his eyes. it’s the dead of night and she snatches the camaro keys off the hook, marching out of the house, slamming the door behind her. it’s the dead of night and she doesn’t care. she’s going to blow past every stop sign and pound on the chief’s door until he opens up. and fuck, i just realized if this is post s3 he’s supposed to be in russia. shit. i don’t watch this show, but i know abt russia bc i DID watch the clips of that demogorgon that i rly hope isn’t stuck in captivity!! okay, but let’s pretend that didn’t happen?

it’s an au?? i mean, errything i write is always technically an au anyway, bc when i write stuff susan has an actual personality and billy isn’t *completely* abhorrent. okay, so it’s an au and mr. hopper didn’t blow up and un-blow up in russia. he’s still here. so max drives to his house.

she pounds on the door so hard this guy snaps outta bed, thinking someone’s trying to bust it down. she tells him neil confessed to killing her mom. it isn’t true, exactly, but he didn’t have to. so it’s a helluva grim drive back to cherry lane, this time in the cop car.

but when they go inside, chief prepared to arrest neil, no need. neil’s hanging from the belt he strangled susan with, shirtless for the first time since that night, erry seemingly fresh furrow and bite mark on full display. below his dangling feet is a map, the area he burned susan’s corpse in circled in red marker. did he kill himself or did the ghost do it?

up to u, we soundlessly cut to credits without a concrete answer to that question.

horror movie #3: crossover special! stranger things meets the chilling adventures of sabrina. sequel to that fic i wrote where susan makes out with lilith, queen of hell, and lilith kills neil for her. sue officially joins the church of lilith. bc in this ‘verse the church of lilith actually happens after caos s2 instead of the nonsense that was s3 and the inconceivably godawful migraine-inducing shit-fest that was s4.

killing neil was lilith’s only freebee. susan isn’t a witch, she’s a mortal, so in order to reap the other rewards of worshipping the one and only mother of demons, she has to fornicate with the witches and participate in the sacrifices!!!

this is, uh, well. it’s p much a porno, dude, sorry. 😅

this is just an excuse for susan to have sex with lilith, zelda, marie, hilda, big witch orgies + susan. witches bathing in the blood of their sacrifices, susan so nervous and timid but unable to deny her desire. the witch’s dressing her in their gothic garb.

how does the rest of the fam get it on this?

max joins the church too. she has more age-appropriate conduct with sabrina and the weird sisters, and what have you. just smooches and over-the-clothes groping, and whatnot, even tho the weird sisters, at least, would be interested in going further if given the opportunity.

billy dies in starcourt again, so he gets revived in the cain pit! hilda is the one who goes to him after bc she’s been in the cain pit many a time (i am still BIG side-eyeing zelda for repeatedly murdering her sister since childhood). hilda understands how jarring it can be to come back. suddenly alive!billy is freaking tf out but she brings him inside the mortuary, wraps him up in a big blanket burrito and they have a talk. hilda explains that he’s going to be okay and rubs his back while he tentatively sips the hot chocolate she made.

after billy’s calmed down, she brings max and susan in. max and susan can’t do as much magic as the caos witches— they’re mortals, after all, it’s not in their nature —but they’ve gained some abilities thru being in the church, following the rituals, and being carnally involved with the immortal witches. max happily shows him some of her new magic tricks.

horror movie #4: another crossover with caos. heavily inspired by creepshow episode s2e1, model kid (which i already v blatantly referenced in the last axe snafu update and i’m not ashamed, bc it’s a good series i love v much).

billy picks max up from the byers’ place rly late one night. it’s dark and the weather is bad and okay, yeh, he might be a little high. and a little concussed. he pissed neil off pretty bad the other day and okay, actually he’s defo concussed bc he doesn’t even remember what he did wrong!

needless to say, they take a wrong turn somewhere. they end up in greendale. at first max is pissed. she yells at him a lot! yells so loud hilda can hear them thru the walls of dr. cerberus’s comic shop/diner. she goes outside to see what all the fuss is abt, hilda never rly ignores youth in need. we love hilda, she deserved so much better…i’m getting distracted, okay, back to the story.

hilda ushers them inside. max is like, “ooh, comics? horror junk and comics? nvm, i’m not mad anymore.” she pats billy’s arm and wanders away to go check stuff out! hilda makes billy sit down. caos canon established that she’s psychic, at least when she wants to be. she smells the weed but she also sees his life, his trauma. billy doesn’t remember what he did to piss neil off or the abuse that followed, but hilda sees it clear as day.

he’s rude and cranky w her when she probes a little too much for his liking. hilda gently but firmly reprimands him and gets him a milkshake on this house. then she goes to check on max. she steers max to a v particular section of the shop, the one that sells model kits. now, max isn’t *huge* into model kits BUT they are p neat and she enjoys them well enough. more so when the weather is nasty and she can’t go outside. or when she needs smth to do with her hands (a trait she shares w susan) to distract herself and ease some of the anxiety when she hears her brother being beaten or her mother being shouted at.

max is actually rly impressed by the array of models. vintage ones and newer ones. monsters, slashers, final girls, tiny accessories like knives and bloodied heads. but when she gets to the paint-your-own shelf, her jaw drops to the floor.

there’s one that looks just like neil. unpainted, plain gray vinyl, but undoubtedly her stepdad. the expression on the five inch figurine is one frozen in fear.

“i think that one’s calling to you,” hilda prompts her, with the softest smile.

max blinks away her bewilderment altho she still can’t speak. she turns to hilda and turns her empty pockets inside out. hilda just waves her hand. she tells her it’s on the house. that it wouldn’t be fair if she gave billy smth on the house, but not max.

speaking of billy, when he finishes his milkshake, he’s suddenly totally sober and healed!! no more high buzzing in his blood. no more pounding headache or concussion fogging his mind. he doesn’t feel his bruises anymore, rolls his sleeve up, and realizes they simply aren’t there anymore. like they dissolved off his skin.

albeit it’s muttered under his breath, but billy does thank hilda. then he and max are on their way. max shows him the suspiciously familiar figurine in the box. this night cannot get weirder.

max knows what to do with the model kit. she does. she isn’t sure how she knows, but she does. she grapples with it for a long time. neil’s the closest thing she has to a dad these days. and things aren’t bad all the time, ofc.

sometimes neil gives max a ride when mom and billy aren’t available. sometimes he brings her ice cream entirely unprompted. neil’s the one who picks max up off the sidewalk when she wipes out super bad on her skateboard, carries her inside and then later to the car when her cut doesn’t stop bleeding and she ends up needing stitches.

but most of the time he sucks. she can’t rly be herself around him. he's indifferent to her interest at best, scornful at worst. he would hate all her friends. he scares the shit out of her when he’s angry. he doesn’t have a problem belittling her mother in front of her, tearing susan to shreds and making her out like she’s lower than dirt, the most worthless person on the planet. doesn’t have a problem beating billy in front of her or glaring at her with the promise that she’ll be next if she dares to voice her dissent.

max doesn’t always want to do what she knows she’s meant to do with the model. bc she's kind at heart and bc on the good days, she genuinely does have mixed feelings toward neil. never enough to hope he'll be better, he's proven he won't...but maybe enough to hope he won't get worse, either.

then comes the night neil breaks ribs. bad, like we’re talking, a-sharp-spear-of-broken-rib-punctures-billy’s-lung-and-he’s-coughing-up-blood-bad. that’s a trip to the emergency room. in the days that follow, at her next dnd meeting w the party, max places the fully and attentively painted model of her stepdad on the table. normally her pals would protest her derailing the intended game, but they can sense it, yk, that smth is different.

max takes over as dungeon master to the protest of no one, all other mouths sealed as if bewitched and spellbound. she narrators a scene where the demogorgon devours neil and uses the demogorgon piece and the model for demonstration.

when max returns home, neil is strewn across the house in gory chunks and torn wallpaper curls around massive claw marks.

#writerwhowritesao3 #susan hargrove #max mayfield #billy hargrove #neil hargrove #crossover #hilda spellman #my scenario tag #i may have gotten carried away #my bad #it's october!#i'm in big horror mode

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kariachi · 2 years

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Some daemon au fic. This time some shit from when Devin first came to Earth, from Max’s pov.

~~~

They had some experience dealing with megafauna. None of their kin had Settled as anything like that, of course, the Tennysons were a humble family and the Barnetts weren’t any more the types for flash and display. Really the only truly large daemon they dealt with on a regular basis was Vita, and she and Phil hardly even counted. Sure, wolves were large carnivores, but compared to things like crocodiles? Gorillas? They’d had to work with a Tetramand with a ziboson daemon once? Just didn’t match up, no matter how much Phil would grumble about size not mattering and did alien daemons even count, really-

He and Vita weren’t grumbling now. Jubilation definitely counted.

“Maaax-” Deana pawed at his leg. “-remember when we were warned Osmosians were predators? And you said it wasn’t a problem?”

“Well how was I supposed to expect that?”

After Mira and Nazario demanded another assignment the two pairs had really expected to keep on as a partnership rather than a team, and had no idea what to think when they’d been told a transfer was coming in. Coming and being assigned to work with them specifically. Something about needing a more senior officer to keep Phil and Vita in line, which certainly hadn’t helped anything. Then, when Mendevin had shown up without a daemon at his side...

Well, for one thing, they had been calling him ‘the empty threat’ whenever the four of them were alone- because much as they loved them the other pair could be kind of assholes- but besides that it just wasn’t right. Max and Deana’s instincts had immediately screamed ‘dead’, then ‘demon’, then ‘witch’ and they knew it’d shown before they could get their thoughts in order. Between that and Phil and Vita being, well, Phil and Vita, they really hadn’t expected him to just roll with things. Had expected him to go the way of their last teammates. Instead, after two solid months of working together and the human pairs theorizing about what sort of daemon he had (because he’d assured them he did, they were ‘just’ Separated, as if the other pair wasn’t still getting used to seeing him as a full and reliable person), he’d finally drug them down to the beach to meet his other half.

They had all assumed they were some sort of fish. It made sense. They were restricted to the water, Mendevin had apparently grown up on the coast, some sort of fish or cetacean equivalent seemed fitting.

His daemon was a fucking sea serpent.

There was no other way to describe them. Long and heavy with muscle, a square muzzle and teeth like knives. Smooth, sleek skin and too many flowing fins in deep blues, creams, and terracotta. A sharks’ eyes, all six of them. They would’ve been a pants-wetting sight on their own, but next to Mendevin- two months and already proven to be a walking marshmallow, supposedly- the sheer dissonance, and the concern about who he really was under the soft smiles and stupid jokes, made things worse.

“Hello,” they said, and it didn’t pass Max or Deana’s attention that their focus was mostly on Vita, stood there very clearly fighting to maintain a dominant stance in the face of something she’d been insulting since day one and now knew could eat her in two bites, “it’s a pleasure to finally get to meet you all.”

#fanfic

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tainted-wine · 4 years

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What is Hawks meets someone with a mer-quirk (mermaid-esque)? Like during a small outing to the beach or flying over a pool. I mean birds of prey do eat fish ;).

(What’s the point in a list of headcanons when you’re going to make a hundred and tell a story through them WHY DIDN’T I JUST WRITE A FIC)

Having a permanent mermaid quirk sucks.

What’s that? You have the head of a bug? You don’t have opposable thumbs? Your talons prevent you from wearing shoes? Fuck outta here with that weak shit.

When there’s a fish tail where your legs are supposed to be, you get a loooong list of inconveniences.

Getting around in what’s basically a fish-bowl-on-wheels may sound cool to the kids around you, but it’s really a pain.

Speaking of kids, you still remember that day in your childhood when those bullies pushed your tank over and laughed as you flopped about. Assholes.

So, you’ve grown into a pretty salty lady.

Your house is near a lake. No, it’s not because you want to look like an enchanting beauty. The freshwater is just good for your scales and keeps them from fading or cracking.

You had no idea that the winged hero Hawks even hung out in your area. Maybe he was heading somewhere, and your presence distracted him.

From Hawks’s perspective, the glittering scales moving so elegantly in the water below had put the birdman in a trance.

Not that it’s a valid excuse for him swooping down and snatching you right out of the water.

One moment you were enjoying a refreshing dip after a hot day, the next you were being grabbed by the end of your tail, your world spinning as you’re lifted into the air upside down.

Luckily your screams of terror snap him out of his strange daze, and the sight of you hanging in his grasp instantly makes him let go so that you can gracefully fall back into the lake.

And by gracefully I mean flapping your arms uselessly as you continue to yell obscenities until you make a huge splash.

Hawks takes your rapid fire insults in stride, shrugging apologetically and waiting for you to simmer down.

“Sorry, Ms. Mermaid. I guess for a second there, I thought I was about to catch the prettiest snack.”

You had so many questions. Such as: Why the hell did his dumbass think there are fish the size of people in this lake? What does he mean ‘catch a snack’? Is he really trying to tell you that he hunts and kills his own food?

“Here. How about I make it up to you?” He whips out a pen and something else, scribbles on it, and lowers himself to show you a photo of himself with his signature.

“A free autograph from yours truly.” He looks so proud of himself.

This little bastard…

You answer by whipping around and slamming your tail into the water, soaking him and his stupid picture.

You swim back home without looking back.

At first you’re angry that he returns the next day with a large box in hand. It’s a colorful and mouth-watering sushi platter.

“Thought this would make for a more proper apology. You’re a water gal, so I’m guessing you like seafood?”

You eye him suspiciously. Genuine or not, you’re not going to pass up on such an expensive looking meal.

You both enjoy the fresh fish while sitting at the edge of the lake. You’re trying to not look like a total glutton as you swallow piece after piece with just a few bites.

Hawks watches in amusement as he casually eats his own small portion. He prefers meat that walks on land, but that doesn’t mean he’ll say no to a nice fish.

He tries to explain the incident that occurred yesterday. Turns out that his animal quirk runs deeper than you would’ve guessed. You always assumed that his quirk was only his wings, with no side effects to the rest of his body.

“Sometimes the bird part of my brain gets the best of me, like when I spot a big shiny fish from high up.”

It sounds like a real drag, honestly. You don’t have to deal with any innate fish behavior, just your dumb tail…and the sensitive gills on your neck.

It’s hard to imagine suddenly being overtaken by baser instincts as you try to go on about your day.

Hawks leaves the rest of the platter with you, ignoring your shocked stammers about how much he probably paid for this delicious meal as he takes off.

The visits become regular. Sometimes you share food, sometimes you both just enjoy the view. Sometimes he watches you swim.

Maybe you’re just a simple girl that’s easily won over by food and gifts. Whatever it is, Hawks grows on you very quickly.

He shares the many occurrences over the years, the many times that his primitive urges have endangered him or someone else. Some stories are hilarious, some are rather disturbing.

In exchange, you talk about all of the annoyances you deal with in your life thanks to your fish traits.

The two of you don’t compete or claim that one has a worse time than the other. You just…keep sharing problems.

You’re enjoying Hawks’s company. You stopped denying it when you noticed how much you perk up whenever you see those large wings fly over the lake and towards you.

“You may not be able to walk, but I can help you fly.” He offers it out of nowhere one day. It sounds a lot like a date, honestly, but he shakes his head innocently. “I just want you to see what the skies are like. Walking’s overrated, anyway.”

Hawks wraps his arms around you from behind and pulls you into his chest. The closeness has you so hot and flustered that you might start steaming.

But there wasn’t much time to take that in, because your feet are suddenly off the ground, the ground that is getting further away waaay too quickly.

Hawks feels your panic and slows down to a calm, levelled flight.

It’s scary and exhilarating, being carried so high up. Your tail fin flutters and shines beautifully against the winds as you watch the scenery below you pass by.

Once he thinks you’re comfortable enough, he speeds up, descending on the approaching city.

Zigzagging past buildings and billboards is the greatest adrenaline rush you’ve ever felt. It terrifies you how close he sometimes gets to crashing into an oncoming structure, only to swerve out of the way at the very last second. But you don’t ask him to stop, the thrill feels too damn good.

Everyone walks. Few people have felt the freedom of flying.

You hear some of the surprised comments below. “It’s Hawks!” “Wow, he’s so fast!” “He’s holding someone! Who is that?” “Is that a big ass fish?”

It makes you smile. You wonder how jealous some of the spectators are. And as the winged hero carries you into the sunset, you wonder how breathtaking the two of you look from below:

#bnha #hawks #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #i'm sorry if you wanted smut #but I was in too soft of a mood with this #i wrote such a long scenario #and they don't even fuck in the end #shame on me

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hongism · 4 years

Text

midnight rides - jjk ➻ 18+

➻ pairing: jungkook x female reader ➻ genre: angst, fluff, smut, s2l, barista!jungkook, bookstore worker!reader, soulmate au ➻ rating: M for Mature ➻ word count: 25.1k ➻ summary: you fall asleep on a stranger’s shoulder while riding the night train home. as it turns out, he’s not much of a stranger after all. ➻ pre-story a/n: honestly guys i have never felt more physically exhausted after writing a story in my liFE. i worked on this fic every day for the past week and a half or so and in the past few days i have been writing between 2k and 5k every night and i am so happy to be done. but also like,,,,i feel so very proud of this story and how it turned out so i hope you all feel the same :3 ➻ warnings: semi public sex, fingering, handjobs, cum eating, cum swallowing, creampie, cumplay, choking, biting, marking, hair pulling, nipple piercings, tattoos idek, thigh riding, oral: m and f receiving, size kink, dom jungkook, sub reader, sir kink, a bit of scratching, explicit sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up binches), breast play, nipple play, such sweet sickening aftercare, the gentlest, brief discussions of past trauma - car accident, death

☽ ☾

You’ve always despised trains. Since you were young, they always bothered you for one reason or another. When you were little it was because they were “too loud”, and seeing as one always passed your childhood home at obscene hours in the night, it makes perfect sense looking back. Then as you got older, you had to commute to school somehow and the train was your only option because the distance was so great between your house and the school. Once you entered university, you just festered a disdain for trains, and nothing was going to change that.

So as you sit curled against the window on the train, you can only think about how much you hate the thing. It’s still loud, loud as ever really, and you know that you are going to be stuck on the damn vehicle for a long while. You want nothing more than to curl up and go to sleep. It’s late; you got off work at a ridiculous hour (honestly, 1 am? Is that even allowed for a day job?) and now you have to commute back home on the damn train.

To make matters even better, you can’t even curl up on the booth because someone is sitting next to you less than a foot away. You barely have space to breathe without bumping your elbow into his side. You aren’t sure why someone else is on the train at this hour. Honestly, it’s one in the morning, where is he going?

Regardless, you know you’ll be on this ride for at least another two hours because you were stupid enough to take a job this far from your apartment. Precious hours of sleep lost because of a damn train. The only good thing about this whole situation is that at least it’s a Friday night so you can sleep in some before having to go back to work yet again.

With a small sigh, you pull away from the window, the glass fogged up by your warm breaths. You glance around the train car, finding other bodies occupying the seats around you. So it’s not just this one guy next to me… I guess that makes me feel a bit better. It’s still a mystery as to why so many people are on the train this late at night. You make this trip regularly, and yet there are never so many people with you. Perhaps six or seven at most, but never a nearly packed car like this.

Against better judgment, you dare to look at the man next to you – although upon second glance, he seems more like a boy. As you move, a ringing resounds in your ears, something akin to Christmas bells, and you scoff at the idea of some kid carrying bells with them. He can’t be much older than you, if older at all. His eyes are squeezed shut, skin wrinkled around his eyes from the pressure, and his head lolls forward every once in a while. He is asleep by the looks of it, albeit in a very uncomfortable position. He – like you – must be returning home late from his job, a brown apron still tied around his torso. The overwhelming scent of coffee beans and espresso lingers in the air around him as well.

It’s a strange and small relief, knowing that you aren’t the only one working drastic hours and traveling a long way to get home. The train jerks; the boy’s head falls forward further, and his body slumps in your direction. You have to bring up a hand to defend yourself from the sudden weight of his body. His skin is warm to the touch, another welcome relief in the cold train car. Between the heat of his skin and the warmth of the scent emanating from his clothes, everything about him seems warm and comfortable.

You blink furiously before pushing him off you again. Sleep deprivation is truly getting to your head. Still, his skin felt like the warm blanket you have back at home, and you want nothing more to curl up against that warmth and bury yourself in it.

You steady his body against the seat then turn away, resisting the urge to brush the loose strands of hair away from his closed eyes. You nearly slap yourself to push that temptation away. The gentle waves of his dark brown hair look soft to the touch, a shine to the strands even in the dim train lights. It’s belated but you finally notice the ink decorating the skin of his arms, which give him a much older vibe than you initially thought. You only take a moment to scan the markings along his arms though before moving your gaze elsewhere. The noise coming from the train drowns out his breathing but you can see the way his chest rises and falls with each passing second. He must be exhausted beyond belief to be sleeping so hard on a train like this. Then again, you can’t blame him because you feel minutes away from sleep yourself.

The train rumbles on without cease, unbothered by your thoughts and musings. The boy sleeps on the same as before, completely unaware of his near tumble to the floor of the train car. And you, well, you let your head fall back against the cushioned booth and stare at the back of the seat in front of you. The lull of the train’s hum and rumble works like a spell. Exhaustion hits with the force of a rhinoceros, sleep washing over you, and you let yourself fall asleep without any further inhibitions.

You awake with a jolt, fingers tapping at your arm incessantly. The rumble of the train has died down to a faint hum, nothing more than a delicate purr. The previously dim lights of the train car have become bright and fluorescent again, harsh on your eyes as they flutter open and take in your surroundings. The first thing your senses pick up is the scent of espresso, then something brown in front of your vision, and the train car seems to tilt in your vision. A foreign weight rests on your head, weighing you down and pressing you further against the wall of brown in the edge of your vision.

A finger continues to prod at your arm, one poke every few seconds, and you slowly come to the realization of where you are and exactly what is going on. Before you stands a young woman, her head tilted like yours.

“Hun, you and your boyfriend ought to wake up before you miss the next stop,” she says, tone quiet. You peer at her, confusion etched onto your features, but she just continues to smile back at you before turning and walking away from your booth. My… boyfriend? I don’t have one?

Then it hits you. The scent of espresso, the brown clothing, the warmth emanating from your side: you’ve fallen asleep on your booth companion.

“I’m so sorry!” You blurt as you sit up, pushing away from the man next to you. The action brings him out of his sleep in a startle and his limbs flail as he jerks awake. It takes a few terse moments for him to gather his bearings and realize what’s going on, but once he seems to remember where he is, he turns to you with wide, doe-like eyes. He blinks back at you in shock. His lips part, either to say something or just stare without speaking. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you!”

The dark-haired man jumps into action at your words, immediately shaking his head. “No, no, no! It’s totally okay! I don’t mind – I mean, I know you didn’t mean to. Don’t worry about it, I swear it’s okay.” Despite just waking up, his voice is clear and melodic. The tone carries through the air like a song and reaches your ears with an unforeseen gentleness that fills you with warmth. He raises his hands above his shoulders. “I kinda – well I, I sorta did the same to you so we’re even.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat even though he told you that it’s quite alright. “A complete stranger falling asleep on you, how awkward is that?”

“Honestly, I’ve had worse things happen to me. A pretty girl falling asleep on my shoulder is the least awkward thing to happen to me.” You blanch at his words, as does he, and it seems that the words did not come out as he thought they would. “Not pretty! I mean, no! Wait, hold on. I’m – you are pretty. Yea, you really are pretty. Super pretty. Wow. Uh, I just – I di–didn’t mean to – you know what, I’m just gonna stop talking now before I embarrass myself further.” The red hue of a blush climbs his neck quickly, touching his ears in an instant, and his eyes dart away from yours.

You open your mouth to respond even though you have no clue what to say to his rambling. Thank goodness you don’t have to say anything because the man jumps up from the booth and stares at the digital banner above the open doors of the train car.

“Oh fuck, I missed my stop,” he blurts, one hand darting to comb through his hair. You glance over at the banner as well.

“Shit, this is my stop!” You yelp and rush to grab your bag from under the seat, not wasting any time in collecting your things. The man watches you in shock before kicking into gear himself. He reaches under the booth too and snatches up his own bag before following you out the doors of the train just before they slide shut on you. You both pant as you hop off the train. It slides away without care, oblivious to your struggles. A huff escapes your lips as you watch the vehicle speed out of sight.

“Ah, uh, would you happen to know how far this station is from Station 37?” The man beside you asks, a hesitant hand reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck. Red tinges his ears again; either that or it’s the lingering remains of his earlier blush.

“Station 37?” You echo. “This – this is Station 45?”

“Oh god. So, uh, quite a ways then.” He chuckles but the sound comes out more forced than anything else. Something in your heart twinges in sympathy for the man as he peers along the tracks.

“I could – well, you could…” You trail off before the idea leaves your lips. Possibly the worst idea you’ve ever had, and no doubt one that your mother would lecture you over for days (if not weeks). So, you do a quick turn and alter your plan a bit before sharing it with the man beside you. “There’s a hotel near my apartment? You could stay there for the night then go home in the morning.”

“Oh?” He purses his lips, mulling over the words. Then, he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth a moment later. “Ah, no, I don’t really have any money on me at the moment. I don’t get paid until the end of next week so money is a bit tight for me right now. Thanks for the offer though. I can just wait here for the next train to come.”

“Then I can wait with you,” you announce as you step around him to sit down on a bench near the tracks. Tucking your bag between your feet, you glance up at him with wide eyes and a slight smile. “I would feel bad to just… I don’t know, leave you here to wait alone?”

“Well then, I would feel bad keeping you here so late. Besides, I should be perfectly fine waiting alone. People don’t really approach me because… you know.” He has a point there, and you’re inclined to agree with him but it does nothing to quell the nagging sensation in your gut that grows with each passing moment. When you refuse to move from your spot on the bench, he seems to get the hint that you aren’t going anywhere. He joins you on the wood, pushing his bag between his legs like you did with yours.

“Uh, I didn’t catch your name,” you state, a nervous grin playing at your lips. The embarrassment of falling asleep on his shoulder is still fresh, and silence would cause that embarrassment to soar further so making conversation is the only option.

“Hm?” He glances over at you. You open your mouth to repeat yourself, but he continues speaking a moment later. “Jeon Jungkook.”

The name stops you in your tracks. Figuratively, of course, seeing as you’re sitting down.

“Jeon Jungkook?” You repeat like a parrot, smile falling as you blink at him. Not at all how I pictured him to be. What? How is this even – how can you be the Jeon Jungkook?

“That tone doesn’t sound good.” He forces out a laugh. “But, ah, let me catch your name first?”

“Y/N L/N,” you state through the disbelief. “We go to the same university, except you’ve probably not heard of me before.”

“No, no. Your name sounds somewhat familiar. I think we might’ve taken some classes together in the past? I don’t know exactly but something tells me you know me from something other than class?”

“I’ve only heard of you bec–”

“Taekwondo?”

“Taekwondo,” you confirm with a weak smile. “You are uh…”

“I’m uh? Well, that’s a new one.” Jungkook’s smile stretches across his face, cheeks scrunching up with the motion.

“I me–meant that you’re not what I imagined you to be?”

Jungkook tilts his head to the side at the words, the inquiry in his eyes. “What did you expect then?”

“I expected you to be – I don’t know, uh, bigger?”

“Bigger?” Jungkook reiterates, eyes nearly bulging out of his head. It takes a moment for the unintentional innuendo to sink in, and as you realize the double entendre, it’s your turn to have a wave of embarrassment wash over you.

“More athletic! Looking. Athletic looking. Not that you don’t look athletic now! J-Just – you know, you look lean…er than most taekwondo people?” The more you ramble, the more you embarrass yourself, that’s for certain. Jungkook nods along with your words, staring at the floor rather than at you. You’re grateful for that much because if he were looking directly at you, it would make things ten times more difficult.

“I think that’s meant as a compliment?” He muses more to himself than to you. You glance over at him, eyes raking over his face for any sign of emotion, and find a smile playing at his lips. “So thank you.”

“Yes, definitely a compliment.” You release a breathy laugh. “I, uh, I heard that you quit taekwondo though.”

“Yea, recently. Well, it’s been a while now, but it still feels recent.” Jungkook leans forward, elbows coming to rest on his knees. His eyes continue to glare at the ground. Perhaps you shouldn’t push the subject but your curiosity is getting the better of you so you prod further.

“Why did you quit? You were always the top performer and the best one on the team.”

“Well, things change. People change. It was time for a change of pace. That’s when I picked up my job and started having these shitty hours.” Something about Jungkook’s answer leaves the subject unfinished, an odd lingering sensation to his words as though he isn’t telling the whole story. You should be satisfied with the amount of information you got from him, and besides, it’s really none of your business at the end of the day. should be Satisfied.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I just assumed it was one of those lifelong passions,” you mutter. You pick at a loose thread on the hem of your shirt, tugging at the fabric absentmindedly as you continue to speak. “I understand what it’s like having shitty hours though. I’m in the same predicament.”

“Oh? Where do you work?”

“Uh, kinda near campus. There’s a small bookstore a little ways away, and I always go there in my free time so I decided to apply for a job when I saw they were hiring.”

“Wait – Omelas Bookshop?” Jungkook sits up straight again and points at you with his index finger.

“A-Actually yea, Omelas Bookshop. How – How did you know?”

“I go there all the time,” Jungkook admits through a smile. He laughs again, this time less breathy and fragmented, a full-bodied laugh that resounds through the empty air around you. “Whenever I have free time at least. I work at the coffee shop just across the street.”

“Wait, really?” It’s your turn to echo the shocked expression and tone.

“Yes, yes. Wow, what are the chances?”

“Ha, really…” Your voice trails off and grows quiet.

“Hey, uh, this may be a left-field question but… do you believe in fate?”

“Wh-What?” You stammer, jerking your head back in Jungkook’s direction. He’s looking at you again, doe eyes wide and waiting for an answer, and for a moment you find yourself utterly stumped by the question. “Fate?” You repeat to yourself. “I-I… no. I don’t really believe in fate or destiny or anything like that.”

“Oh?” Jungkook’s lips fall into a rounded shape before being quickly replaced by a weaker smile. “I do. Fate, destiny, soulmates – all of it. Some things are just too strange to be called coincidence.”

“I disagree with that,” you mutter. A twinge of bitterness sneaks into your tone that you didn’t intend to let through, and Jungkook immediately picks up on it.

“That’s sounds… rather personal but I won’t push you to explain it.” Jungkook hums before turning to look down the train tracks. “Uh, do you think another train will be coming soon? I don’t want you to keep waiting on me.” You blink down the tracks as he does, looking for any hint of an oncoming train, but nothing is there. Your eyes move to the back of Jungkook’s head. If I don’t offer something, he’s gonna be out here alone for another two or three hours…

Time for the bad idea, then, you decide.

“I-I, my apartment – well, I have a pullout bed in my couch. I never use it because I don’t have anyone come over but… I could give you a spare set of sheets and some pillows?”

Jungkook’s head whips back in your direction, and you immediately turn away to avoid eye contact. You can practically feel the heat of his stare on your face, and it only encourages a tidal wave of embarrassment. It feels like a dumb suggestion all of a sudden. It’s too late to take back the words now though because they are hanging in the air between you two, waiting for a response from him.

“I-I wouldn’t – I don’t want to intrude. That’s – it’s your apartment. I don’t wanna get in your way or anything,” he refutes through a string of stammers.

“I think we both know that another train won’t come around for at least two hours. My apartment is only a five-minute walk from here. That’s basically two extra hours of sleep.” Your logic remains sound. Jungkook can’t refuse the offer at this rate, and he seems to be considering it.

“But… I don’t… I would feel bad. Or that I owe you something?” He tries again to refuse the offer. A yawn passes through his lips as soon as he finishes speaking, and he blinks down at the ground with a growing expression of defeat. “I-I will bring you coffee sometime. Or buy you a meal?”

“No, no. You won’t owe me anything, I swear. It’s a favor! I don’t need anything in return.” You stand up, pulling your bag up as you go, and smile down at Jungkook. “I promise it’s okay. I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t. Besides, I feel a bit more at ease knowing that we go to the same school and vaguely knowing who you are.”

Jungkook hesitates one last time before standing up with you and grabbing his own bag. He slings it around his shoulder then extends a hand to you. You stare at the outstretched appendage. A moment passes in silence, then you blink up to his face and back down at his hand.

“Your backpack?” He says once he reads the confusion on your face. “At least let me carry it for you.”

“No that is really unnecessary. I don’t wa–that’s just really awkward isn’t it?”

Jungkook ignores your huffs and puffs, snatching your bag from your hands and throwing it over his shoulder along with his own. You sigh at the defeat, unable to say anything further to defend yourself.

“Okay, fine.” You motion for him to follow you as you round the bench and head away from the train tracks. He lingers a moment, then you hear the scuffing of boots along concrete and his form pops up in the edge of your vision.

“Are you sure this is alright? I don’t want to intrude or anything. Is your roommate going to be okay with this?”

“I don’t have a roommate. I live alone because my awful work schedule has driven all my other roommates off.” A laugh follows your words even though there’s no humor in them. More or less, it’s a sympathy laugh for yourself. If Jungkook notices, he opts not to comment on it, which you’re grateful for. “But yes, I’m sure this is okay! It’s no trouble at all really.”

“O-Oh, okay. I just don’t wanna get in your way.”

“You won’t! I promise! It’s not like I ever use my couch much anyways since I’m always out for work or school.” You shrug, trying to seem nonchalant and chill about the whole situation. In all honesty, your heart threatens to beat out of your chest, your throat feels like it might collapse on itself at any second, and you might pass out if you stop talking. You are absolutely crumbling on the inside and it is taking everything in your power to conceal that.

“That makes me feel loads better then…” Jungkook murmurs, voice fading as he turns his head away from you. “I’ve never been to this part of the city before. It looks so different from where I live even though it’s not too far from here.”

“The city seems a lot bigger once you go to new places, huh? I used to think everything looked like this but once I started working at the bookstore I noticed that everything was much larger than I made it out to be.”

“The world just gets bigger and bigger as you get older,” Jungkook says. You hum in response. “How long have you lived here?”

“Since I started college, but I lost lots of roommates along the way.”

“What year are you at university? Sorry, I don’t mean to be making this an interrogation or anything like that, I’m just curious.”

“I don’t mind! I’m a senior this year.”

“Oh really? I am too!” Jungkook nudges you with his elbow, another bright smile stretching his lips. You laugh along with him and turn to look at him. In hindsight, it’s a mistake to do that because as you move, the moonlight gleams down on him. You freeze in your tracks. The pale moonlight cascades over his features, feathering through the loose strands of hair around his forehead, following the gentle slope of his nose, accentuating the rounds of his cheeks as he grins, glistening over a set of straight teeth. Your brain almost malfunctions and breaks down as you look over him. He’s just so… pretty for lack of a better word, but you can’t really pinpoint what the right word would be for his looks. He continues to smile, eyes hiding behind lids squeezed shut as he scrunches his nose up. It hides your dumbfounded expression from him for the time being.

Still, you shake your head and slap your own cheek in attempts to force yourself out of the stupor you’ve fallen in.

“Still think it’s a coincidence?” He asks after a moment, one eye cracked open to look at you. A huff leaves your lips. You spin on your heel, and instead of answering, continue to walk along the sidewalk. Jungkook chases after you, a light and airy laugh carrying through the air as he does. “Fate is funny, you know. I think that’s why I believe in it. Crazy things can happen every day with no explanation, and yet fate comes in and takes all the credit. How about that?”

“Coincidence deserves more credit,” you counter. The smile on Jungkook’s lips falters, he looks over at you then back up to the clear night sky.

“Maybe it does, but not from me.”

“Here we are,” you mutter as you come upon your apartment building. Jerking at thumb at the door, you motion for Jungkook to follow you inside. A gust of warm air hits both of you as soon as you step through the doors, a welcome kindness compared to the cold spring air outside. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you make your way up the winding staircase, all the way up to the fifth floor, then you veer off and make a left at the top. After a quick fumble with your keys (which you nearly drop on the top of Jungkook’s chunky black boots), you manage to unlock the door to your apartment and bare the interior to the man beside you.

“Ladies first,” he says and motions inside for you. You roll your eyes ever so slightly, leaving him with a little huff of laughter to show that you aren’t being wholly serious, then step inside.

It’s not much to fuss about – a basic apartment with scant and ordinary decorations strewn about – but it’s home nonetheless. A cozy sensation of warmth seeps into your bones as you take in your surroundings, not one due to the actual temperature in the room, but rather one due to being home at long last.

“You can put your bag wherever I don’t mind. I normally just put mine on one of the bar stools or on the counter.”

Jungkook is too busy examining your apartment to hear what you have to say, his wide eyes dancing from wall to ceiling to floor back to the wall again.

“This is a nice place. Much nicer than mine at least.”

“Well, I’m sure part of that is due to the price of this place. It is meant for roommates after all, but I just can’t find a better place anywhere else. Maybe I’m too attached to it after four years though. I would offer the secondary bedroom but… my last roommate kinda stole the bed? So there’s nothing in there right now except for an empty dresser.”

“Stole the bed?” Jungkook snaps to attention at that. “How does a person steal an entire bed?”

“You’re asking the wrong person!” You raise your hands in defense. “I’m not the one who stole it after all. I just woke up one morning and the whole bed was gone. Along with him and all his belongings aside from a dresser full of clothes. So how about that? I got free men’s clothes and he got an entire bed.” Jungkook laughs as you recall the story, moving around you to set both his bag and yours on one of the bar stools.

“What if I told you…” Jungkook trails off. He slowly turns towards you, and there’s a sneaky and mischievous gleam in his eyes that you don’t trust one bit. He attempts to hold back a bout of laughter as he finishes his train of thought. “…that my current roommate brought his own bed when he moved in even though there was already one in the room.”

“Then I would call you a liar, Jeon Jungkook!” You exclaim when he can’t hold his laughter back any longer.

“Would you call it fate then?” He inquires through the laughter, and you respond with a roll of your eyes.

“I would still call you a rotten liar!” You persist as you walk towards your bedroom to retrieve some sheets for Jungkook.

“Do you need help?” He calls after you.

“No, it’s okay! I’ve got it.” You wave him away with your hand. “If you want a change of clothes, you could try scrounging around in my roommate’s old dresser. They should be clean but you never know with men honestly. No offense!”

“None taken, none taken. You’re right about that.”

You duck into your room after hearing Jungkook’s words, not waiting for any further comments, and instead focus on grabbing a fresh set of sheets from your closet. When you stumble back into your small living room, Jungkook is nowhere in sight so he must’ve gone into your roommate’s old room after all. You dump the bundle of sheets onto an armchair before turning to the couch. Frankly, you’ve never tried pulling the bed out; the only reason you know it exists is because you saw your roommate use it on multiple occasions. Peeling back the cushions, you sigh at the sight before you.

“Uh, Jungkook?” You call out.

“Yeah?” His voice is faint and distant to a degree, but it grows louder as he steps back into the living room. When you glance up at him, your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as he is in the middle of tugging a far too formfitting t-shirt over his head. Silver glimmers across his chest, small beads perked on either side of each nipple, and you nearly choke at the sight of them.

He wouldn’t… Jeon Jungkook? Of all people? Well then again, he does have a lot of tattoos… but do they even allow that in taekwondo? Maybe they are newer? He… no, no, no. I must be hallucinating. I mean – no, don’t even think about it, Y/N. Just – just ignore it.

You whip your head away to avoid seeing him half-naked and any more indication of those little beads around his pecs.

“What’s up?”

“D-Do you, uh, do you happen to–to know how to pull out?” Your brain malfunctions and stops the sentence there. It’s Jungkook’s turn to nearly lose his shit, and you struggle to fix the mistake without stammering. “P-Pull out the be-bed! Pull the couch out, pull a bed – you know? Pull the bed out!”

“A-Ah, yeah! Yep, bed. Yes, pull out the bed. From the couch. The pull out bed in the couch. Got it.” Jungkook coughs between words. Your attempts to recover the situation have obviously failed and the heat of embarrassment overwhelms your whole body. Jungkook doesn’t say anything further about your slip up; instead, he walks around the couch and grabs the handles of the mattress. “Wait – don’t you need to move this back a little?” He tilts his head in the direction of the coffee table, long hair flopping across his forehead, and you blink at him dumbly for a moment.

“Oh! Oh yea, of course!” You scoot the table out of the way with your legs, making room for the bed to extend completely. “We can move the couch back too if needed.”

“No, no, this should work just fine,” Jungkook says. A grunt follows his words, one that sends an unwelcome heat to your core, and you try not to watch the way his biceps strain against the sleeves of the white shirt as he pulls the bed out from the couch. He extends it with ease after the first tug. You bite down hard on your tongue all the while, eyes failing to leave his toned arms and the curve of his neck as he moves. “See? Easy.”

You nod in response, unable to form proper words, and move to pick up the sheets you brought out instead. “Uh, I-I–”

“Let’s do it together, yea? I’m honestly really bad at putting fitted sheets on.” Jungkook laughs and scratches the back of his neck. You toss the loose sheet his way, starting to tug the fitted one over the thin and dingy mattress. The action gives you a moment to breathe and regain your sanity because, in all honesty, you do not want to come across as a creeper to a man you just met, but you’ve probably already done that multiple times in the brief time you’ve been chatting with him.

Once the sheets are all secured around the mattress, Jungkook plops down on the cushion with a light laugh.

“That was the hard part,” he says. The smile on his face lightens the atmosphere around the two of you, a mellifluous sound that penetrates your heart like a knife. You can’t keep from grinning back at him, an action that you keep repeating over and over with him. You pass a pillow his way.

“Do you need any blankets or more pillows? I’m sure I can scrounge some more together.”

“No, this is fine! I tend to sleep late because I kinda sweat a lot in my sleep. Sorry in advance about the sheets.”

“Ah, it’s fine! I’ll just throw them in the wash anyway, so don’t worry about it!” You turn away from the couch, hesitate a second, then glance back at the man on your couch. “Sl-Sleep well. If you need anything, I’ll, uh, I’ll be in the next room.”

“Of course. Thank you again, Y/N. Really. Thank you so much.”

“No need to thank me. I’m happy to help.” You leave him with a smile, retreating to your bedroom before you have the chance to embarrass yourself more than you already have. As you are making your way back to your room, Jungkook’s voice stops you as he asks one last question.

“Do you still think it was all a coincidence, Y/N?”

Your steps falter and you nearly run into the wall but you still catch the question. You leave him with no answer, mulling over the question to yourself. It lingers at the forefront of your mind as you step into your room and shut the door behind you with a quiet click.

Coincidence is a funny thing, but then again Jungkook said the same about fate. He must have noticed the same things you did – all the little coincidences – and yet he calls it fate.

What kind of coincidence? Just happening to sit next to a random stranger on the bus at one in the morning, falling asleep on his shoulder, having to get off on the same stop, then finding out that you go to the same university, are in the same year at said university, have the same major, and work across the street from each other? How on earth is that mere coincidence? Then bringing him to your apartment where you just happened to have a dresser full of clothes that magically happen to fit him like a glove? Just happening to have a pull-out couch where he can sleep, along with a spare set of sheets for it? How many times can you call something a coincidence before it becomes fate?

You pull yourself into bed with heavy limbs and dragging movements. It’s hard to wrap your mind around the situation, especially given that it’s quite late in the night, but also because none of it really makes sense to you.

Too many coincidences. Is that a possibility? And fate?

You scoff to yourself when your head hits the pillow. Fate is a joke, at least it has always been that way in your eyes. Perhaps Jungkook is right: fate is funny, but only in that it’s treated your life like a joke from start to finish. Never done you any favors or given you blessings. Everything good that has happened to you has been a result of hard work and struggle, fighting through the obstacles that “fate” has thrown your way for years and years.

Or maybe your bitterness towards fate is all due to some past trauma. Your mother used to love talking about fate, believing in it, crediting everything that happened in both her life and yours to fate. It was always a blessing and a guiding light to her. She thought it was her friend, her protector, the light at the end of the tunnel. Of course, when the actual light at the end of the tunnel came for her it was fate that caused the eighteen-wheeler to crash into her car head on, landing her in the hospital on her deathbed. And even when you were at her side then, she credited it all to fate for guiding her to the place where she was and how her life progressed over time. She was fucking content with the end fate had given her, and yet in your eyes, it was unfair. It wasn’t just. It didn’t feel right or kind or like anything good. It was a cruel slap in the face to a woman who gave her all to a “fate” that could only be wretched and evil.

Yea maybe that is why you cannot handle calling this fate. It’s too good to be fate because fate only knows how to be cruel. You’re certain of that fact.

☽ ☾

Lips crash against yours. You hum against them, letting the warmth overwhelm you and fill all your senses. They breach your skin and attack with a gentle ferocity that is foreign to you. Deft fingers trail down your sides. You barely have time to moan before they hook around the hem of your nightshirt and tug it up. Up, up, up until it goes over your head and gets tossed to the side. You bare your chest to the man before you, looking up to find his face.

Rather than a face, darkness greets you. That’s when you realize that you’re living this reality in a dream and a dream only. You don’t have much time to think about the fact that this isn’t real because the man presses his warm lips against the juncture of your neck, nipping and sucking with soft licks. A moan passes your lips as he brushes over a sensitive spot. It feels real, and that’s all that matters to you.

“Hmm…” You hum out. Bringing your hands down against his chest, you tug relentlessly at the white shirt clinging to his skin damp with sweat. He must get the hint because he leans away from your neck to tear the material off as he did to your shirt moments ago. The skin across his chest is soft, pure, so bare of marks compared to his arms that you want nothing more than to lean forward and decorate every visible inch of skin with your lips and teeth.

Large hands come down against yours and trap your wrists against the mattress beneath you. A gasp passes through your lips next. Fingers latch around your wrists, effectively pinning you down, and the man above you brings one hand down to trace the column of your neck with his index finger. You whine at the action, more so at the fact that he’s only using one hand to pin you and how big he is above you like this. His knee wedges between yours and pushes your legs open with little effort. The show of strength draws another whine from your lips, your back curves off of the bed, and he pushes you back down with the flat of his hand.

That same hand trails a path down your bare abdomen, trailing over your dripping core, and drags two fingers through the wetness of your folds. The featherlight touch has you whimpering, writhing, struggling to buck up against his hand and deepen the touch. He teases at your wetness, fingertips barely pushing in, but a moment later thick fingers slip into you and begin to scissor you open. The pleasurable sensation has you curling off the bed as his fingers crook inside you.

“Stay still,” he murmurs, voice somehow managing to be both gruff and gentle at the same time. You want to lay back and lose yourself in the pleasure but something about his voice rings familiar in your ears and you cannot let it go.

Jungkook.

Your eyes widen as you look up at the man.

I’m having a fucking sex dream about Jeon Jungkook!?

The mere shock of the situation jerks you out of slumber, you wake up with a start, and light invades your vision. Sweat pools at your skin and brings dampness to your sheats. The space between your legs is soaked as well, proof of your less than proper dream. The wet dream you just had about Jeon Jungkook. A man you barely know. And the man who is sleeping in your living room. Fantastic. Wonderful. Incredible. Absolutely fucking amazing.

You let your hands fall to the bed, clenching around the slightly wet bedsheets. Embarrassment burns your body more than anything else at the moment, and it takes you several deep breaths to recover from the lingering memory of the dream you just woke up from. Once your senses recover some, you manage to let go of the sheets and pull yourself from the bed, albeit on quaking legs. The air in the room feels cold against your dampened skin. Aside from the warm temperature, a bright scent rises to your nose and overwhelms you. It’s one that invaded your senses so strongly last night as you slept on the train, a scent that emanated from Jungkook’s body the whole time you were with him, and yet it remains foreign in your apartment.

You never make coffee; rather, you just roll out of bed and grab some coffee on your way to university. So the overwhelming scent is too much for you to handle this early in the morning, and the thought of your wet dream about him only heightening the discomfort that bubbles in your gut. With a small shake of your head, you move for the bathroom to take a quick shower and wash away the dream lingering at the forefront of your mind.

The urge to let your fingers trail down your naked body and toy at the heat between your legs is oh so tempting. You want nothing more than to release the sexual frustration pent up inside you. How easy it would be to just get off real quick in the shower and head out like nothing is wrong. And to be honest, the mental image of the delicate tattoos and piercings through his nipples are quite the encouragement as well. Of course, your mind would decide to have a sex dream at the most inopportune moment. As Jungkook would put it: it’s all fate. No. This is merely bad luck. Fate has nothing to do with it.

You manage to push the temptation aside, by the luck of a miracle for certain, and continue to shower in peace. When you step out, you’re quick to towel down and change into a fresh set of clothes. You take longer than usual to select something to wear mostly due to the fact that you are really trying to avoid going out and being in Jungkook’s presence. Both the shame of your dream and the embarrassment of potentially looking at him that way while he’s staring right at you are both ample possibilities. Unfortunately, you seem to be on a bad run of luck.

A knock resounds at your door, a series of three raps against the wood, then a hesitant voice calls out to you through the barrier.

“Y/N? I, uh, I made some coffee if you want some.” You purse your lips. Ah, so that was coffee after all. You make your way over to the door, cracking it open and sticking your head through to greet Jungkook with a strained smile.

“Yea, I’ll be out in just a moment.” He nods at your words and steps away from the door. You take several deep breaths, repeating a mental pep talk as you breathe. Come on, Y/N, this is your apartment. Not Jungkook’s. Just breathe. It’s fine. It’s all good. Everything is chill and normal and fine. You didn’t just have a sex dream about him. Act like that didn’t happen. Stop thinking with what’s between your legs and start thinking with your head.

The mental encouragement helps some, and when you step into the hall, your heart isn’t racing at a hundred miles per hour. You greet Jungkook in the kitchen with another smile, this one much less strained and awkward. He’s standing behind the counter, elbows propped on the granite top, and nurses a steaming mug of what’s presumably coffee. Upon seeing you enter, he stands upright and mimics your smile. His gaze drops a moment later, however, and he glances away from you with a faint dusting of pink across his cheeks.

“I didn’t know, uh, how you liked your coffee. But I got a mug out for you!” He motions behind him at the coffee pot, which you’re surprised is still functional seeing as you seldom use it. “Sorry for rifling through your cabinets and stuff… I wanted to make breakfast for you as a way to thank you for letting me stay over. You don’t have much in the way of food though.”

“I’m shocked you even found coffee honestly.” You chuckle as you move to pour a cup of coffee for yourself.

“The shocking thing is the fact that you have coffee rather than food.”

“I-I never have time,” you protest. The smell rising from the pot entices you. It smells far different than whenever you’ve made it in the past but then again it’s Jungkook’s job to make coffee so he must know what he’s doing at least to some extent.

“Time to what? Eat?” His voice is a bit incredulous, and the accusation brings a pout to your lips.

“I work so late that I only ever eat dinner between shifts. I eat snacks throughout the day after getting breakfast at campus because I don’t have time to wake up even earlier than I do to make food for myself. I know it’s not a solid and valid excuse, but it’s the truth.” You shrug, digging through your cabinets for sweetener of some sort to no avail, then move for the fridge to get some milk. You’re too nervous to check the expiration date on the carton, although Jungkook saves you the trouble.

“It expired two and a half weeks ago.”

“Oh. Oh. Well, how about that?” You joke with a lilt to your tone. The look Jungkook sends your way is nothing short of pity. You settle for a cup of coffee without milk or sweetener. You half expect it to be more bitter than your outlook on life and yet when the hot liquid passes your lips, the taste is sweeter than expected.

“Special barista’s touch,” Jungkook comments when he sees your expression of shock. “But also… you need groceries.”

“I’m fine! Honest to god! I rarely eat at home anyways so any money I spend on groceries would be a waste.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. You think he’s going to send another pity filled glance your way, but he doesn’t. He instead downs the rest of his coffee in three gulps.

“I really shouldn’t stay longer than I’m welcome. I stripped the bed and put the sheets in your washer, but I wasn’t sure where you kept the detergent so I didn’t run it. I also put the couch back together and put it in place.”

“Wh-What?” You stutter, quick to glance around the living room. Sure enough, everything is put back in its original home, all evidence of Jungkook’s stay gone. “Oh wow, you didn’t have to do that! I would’ve taken care of everything. Uh, there’s – there’s no rush to leave! I don’t mind. I mean, unless you need to go! In which case, yes absolutely go ahead.”

“I-I would love to stay. Really. Love it. Uh, but I-I have work in a few hours. I should, you know, get back and get ready and stuff.”

“Yes! Yea, absolutely. One hundred percent.”

“Exactly!”

“Yes, work. I mean, going to work. I have to go to work too. Later.”

“Wow, what a coincidence! I mean, fate. It’s fate, right?”

“Sure? No, coincidence. All a coincidence.”

“Obviously.”

“Definitely.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Uh, the weather is really great outside.”

“Really? I didn’t notice. I was too focused on you – I mean, talking to you. I was busy talking to you.”

“Yes! Talking. Like old pals.”

“Because we are totally old pals.”

“Oh my god, this is awkward.”

“Ah thank goodness I’m not the only one feeling it.” Jungkook exhales a shaky laugh before setting his now empty mug in the sink. He moves to clean it but you stop him.

“Leave it! I’ll clean it after I finish my cup. Okay? Don’t do anything else!”

“Sure, yea, wouldn’t dream of it!” He steps away from the sink, hands raised in defense. Rounding the counter, he lifts his bag and slings it over his shoulder. “Thank you again. Seriously, I cannot stress it enough. Thank you so much for letting me stay over.”

“You don’t need to thank me. Again. I was happy to help.”

“Before I go–” Jungkook cuts himself off, thinking twice about the words about to leave his mouth. “You know what, nevermind. It’s not important.” He turns to the door and quickly twists the locks, then again, he hesitates and looks back at you. “Actually could I get your phone number?”

“My what?” You reiterate, face blank.

“Y-Your number?”

“Oh shit. That. Duh. What else would you be talking about? Yes, yea, sure.”

“So we can talk again. Like old pals would.”

“Wow, that’s is exactly what I was thinking. We’re just on the same wavelength or something.”

“Oh, like it’s fate?”

“Nope! Nice try though.” You reach for your phone tucked away in the waistband of your pants and toss it to Jungkook. “How about you put your number in and I’ll text you? Does that work?”

“Of course.” Jungkook taps away at your phone, inputting his number and tossing the device back to you in a matter of seconds. “I guess I’ll talk to you later? Have – have a good day.”

“You too! I mean yes, talk to you later. Good luck at work!”

“Thanks, you as well!”

You wave at Jungkook’s retreating form as he steps out the door. A moment later, it snaps shut and leaves you in an empty and silent apartment. You go to lock the door again, twisting the locks before turning back to the empty living room with a strange sense of loneliness. You should be used to this loneliness after living alone for so long and yet you forgot what you were missing out on when talking to Jungkook after waking up.

Waking up to someone. You haven’t had that in months. Talking to someone first thing in the morning. Drinking coffee with someone. Just being at home with someone.

You never thought you would miss the sensation, especially after your last roommate proved to be such a hassle, and yet Jungkook has left a rather large hole in your defenses and heart.

Of course, it’s only after you return to the sink and begin to wash dishes that you look down at your shirt.

You forgot to put on a bra after your shower.

And chose to wear the most sheer white tank top in existence.

Fucking brilliant.

☽ ☾

Despite exchanging phone numbers with Jungkook, the two of you don’t really talk all that often. You dropped a text a few hours after he left your apartment (ample amount of time so that you weren’t seeming too excited or as though you didn’t care), and he responded within ten minutes. After that though, you two seemingly forgot about each other. You went on with your life as though Jungkook never came into it. His little spiel about fate seems quite humorous looking back because you can’t imagine why something like “fate” would put him in your life only for him to leave so quickly after. Nonetheless, you don’t forget about his existence entirely.

Jeon Jungkook still exists to you, albeit solely in dreams and thoughts. You get the occasional wet dream about said man from time to time despite your personal vehemence before sleeping about how you do not want to have another dream about him. Your brain can’t seem to get the hint to stop though so they come as regularly as one would think: once a week.

In hindsight, it seems kind of odd and creepy to be dreaming so much about a man you met for less than 24 hours. You blame the fact that you haven’t been dicked down in a good eight or nine months. So you opt to do the only logical thing a person could do: hookups via dating apps. In all honesty, it is the most unsatisfying string of hookups in existence but it serves its purpose and drives the nagging sex dreams about Jungkook out of the picture. And once the dreams finally cease, you cease your relentless sex escapade.

That freedom must come to an end, as fate – or coincidence rather – would have it. Which brings you to now, a late Friday night at the bookstore where you are sorting through books mindlessly. Your store has always had a late-night policy since the location is so close to the university campus. Students apparently love coming in after eight o’clock, at least according to your boss. You rarely see a single customer after the clock strikes nine but you get paid to mill about the rows and read books to your heart’s content so the job isn’t as bad as it could be. It’s nearing midnight, however, almost time to close the store so you are spending your time making sure everything is in order. Your boss left an hour ago, leaving you with the keys and the task of closing the bookstore on your own.

Humming is your only company, a gentle and soft sound you sing to yourself as you work. The action occupies your mind so much that you don’t notice the ding of the door or the heavy steps of someone stepping inside. A shadow moves in your peripheral vision. You nearly jump out of your own skin, a loud shriek escaping your parted lips, and the newcomer flinches at the sound.

You pull away from the shelf to get a better look at him – and it is in fact a “him”, wearing all black from head to toe. Black combat boots bigger than your face, cargo pants tucked into the tops of the boots, a shirt that clings to the owner’s chest with too much gusto, and a thick leather jacket that shrouds his chest from your view. Dangling from the man’s hand is a helmet – a motorcycle helmet to be specific – and you finally drag your gaze up to his face.

“Jungkook?” A sound akin to disbelief passes after you utter the name. He blinks back at you with wide, doe-like eyes.

“Uh… hi?”

Well fuck. Your luck has officially run out. Right when you thought you had escaped his grasp for good, here he comes, waltzing in like he owns the place with a fucking motorcycle helmet as though tattoos and goddamn nipple piercings weren’t enough.

“I-I, what?” You struggle to form a coherent thought. The sheer effect his appearance has over you is embarrassing, and his outfit isn’t doing you any favors either.

“I’m really sorry for coming in so late, Y/N. I meant to come sooner but I had to get gas along the way and that took longer than expected.”

“No, no. That’s – it’s fine. I’m not – you’re ho–fine.”

“I wanted to drop by and grab a book or two, if that’s okay.” Jungkook’s voice trails off as he grows shy, free hand reaching up to scratch at his highly decorated ears. You didn’t even notice the jewelry hanging from each lobe in your shock, but you should’ve expected him to be pierced in places other than his nipples. Oh my god, Y/N, can you stop thinking about his nipples?

“That’s perfectly fine! What we’re here for after all. Can I, uh, can I help you find anything?” You offer as you step away from the shelf at your side.

“I’m looking for a Lovecraft collection actually. I haven’t been able to find one recently but maybe… maybe you know where I can find one?” Jungkook places his helmet beside the register, rubbing his hands together while glancing around the shop.

“We have quite a few actually! Only one or two out here in the front though. More in the back, but I can show you the ones we have on the shelves out here first?”

“Absolutely, yea, that sounds perfect.” He moves closer to you, and the second he’s in your general vicinity, the scent of coffee strikes your nose. Warmth emanates from his body despite the cold night air outside, and you already feel yourself losing the last shreds of sanity you’re clinging to. You step away, moving for the shelves at your side instead.

“Okay, so Lovecraft… That should be in the mystery/thriller section.” Your fingers trail along the books as you walk. Eyes scan each label and name before reaching the section in question. “What sort of collection are you looking for?”

“I’ve been looking for a complete collection, but most bookstores either don’t carry them or have limited collections.” Jungkook steps closer to your form. The scent increases tenfold, and you nearly choke on the overwhelming smell.

“Yea, yea, uh…” You shake your head, trying to clear your mind of the scent but it doesn’t leave. “Do you – do you smell that?”

“What? Smell what?” Jungkook’s eyes widen, bright irises gleaming down at you in wonder. “It just smells like books in here.”

“No, I… I smell coffee?”

“Coffee?” Jungkook purses his lips and glances around the shop. “I don’t smell anything except books.”

“That’s strange,” you mutter. “Well, anyway, here is – this is our Lovecraft collection on display. I believe we have more in the backroom but I don’t know what specifically.” Jungkook brings a long finger to trail over the books, moving from H to L in search of Lovecraft. He pauses over a book and pulls it out. You can’t keep your eyes from following the deft movements of his fingers, those very fingers invading many of your dreams in recent months.

“You know…” He starts as he cracks the book open. “They say that when you meet your soulmate, you smell the thing they like the most.”

“They also say that you hear silver bells.”

“And? Have you heard any silver bells?”

“Are you insinuating that we’re soulmates, Jungkook?” You ask, tone incredulous as you blink up at the taller man. He chuckles at your question.

“What’s your favorite thing, Y/N?”

“Chai tea,” you utter through gritted teeth. Jungkook hums at the comment but doesn’t say anything more than that. Your heart rate has picked up, a frantic beat that drums against your ribcage and fills your ears with the sound of blood rushing through your veins.

“Could I see the books in the back? These are more partial collections,” Jungkook says as he pushes the books back into their designated places on the shelf. You nod, making a quick motion for him to follow you. You go to the backroom often and frankly it’s nothing special – it’s just another room lined with bookshelves and dusty books – so when you flip the lightswitch and unveil the interior, you aren’t expecting Jungkook to exhale a gasp of surprise. “Wow.”

“What?” You inquire, glancing over the expression on his gentle features.

“There’s so many books back here. I didn’t know you had so many.”

“Ah, yea, the owner wanted to expand the shop but didn’t have the funds so he turned this room into a book room instead. It’s open to the public but most people choose to focus on the main portion of the store instead. Give me a second to figure out where Lovecraft is; we don’t organize these shelves the same way as the ones in the front.” You mill between the shelves, quickly scanning each one with darting eyes, and Jungkook trails after you without a word. “I, uh, I didn’t know you rode a motorcycle.” You attempt to make conversation in the hopes that it will both quell your racing heart and alleviate some of the awkward tension lingering between you.

“Oh? Yea, I kinda picked it up after quitting Taekwondo.”

“Is that when you started getting tattoos as well?” You ask. Jungkook coughs, the question obviously catching him off-guard. “S-Sorry if that was intrusive!”

“No, it’s okay! I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. But yes. I started getting tattoos around then. I guess it was a little rebellion but…”

“But?”

“Ah, nothing. It’s not important.” You come to a sudden halt in front of a shelf, and Jungkook must not see you stop because his body crashes into yours and nearly topples you over. You reach out to grab the shelf, bracing yourself on the wood. Jungkook slams his hands down on either side of your head, his hips brush your ass, and you have to bite down violently on your tongue to keep a whine from slipping out.

Silence lingers in the air. Neither of you moves. Heat radiates from Jungkook’s body, along with that damn coffee scent, and your heart has begun to beat at the speed of light. You’re sure that if one more incident occurs to raise it further, you will go into some form of cardiac arrest. That familiar itch between your legs rises. Jungkook’s hands leave the shelf. The heat disappears as he moves back and you exhale a shaky breath.

“I-I, uh, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you mutter, continuing to face the shelf rather than him. If you turn around now, he might see how blown your pupils are, clear evidence of the effect he just had over you. “He-Here’s the rest of our Lovecraft collection.” You point to the books beside your head with shaky fingers. Before you have the chance to move out of his way, Jungkook opts to reach past your head and pull one of the books off the shelf. You press your thighs together with so much force that it hurts.

“This is the exact one I’ve been looking for!” He exclaims, tone bright and loud against your ears. You twist around to face him and look at the book in his hands. It’s an old one; spine greyed from constant use and pages yellowed from age. Nonetheless, Jungkook smiles down at it with a childlike wonder in his eyes. You cannot help but to laugh and smile along with him.

“How about that? Coincidence much?”

“No…” Jungkook trails off as his fingers trace the faded title on the book. “It’s fate.” You begin to sigh, ready to deny his ever insistent claims about fate, but his eyes flitter up to meet yours. Your words catch in your throat. The gleam in his darkened eyes is so intense that your chest clenches (along with your thighs – again).

“Jungko–” You don’t manage to get the name out. Instead, your breathing is cut short by a sudden pressure against your lips, and it takes you several moments to realize exactly what is happening. Jungkook is kissing you. Kissing you. Now you actually do whine, a faint sound that reverberates against his soft lips. The book in his hands falls to the ground with a soft thud as he presses against you harder. The lines of the shelf dig against your back, but you cannot bring yourself to care much as Jungkook’s arms snake around your body and press you tighter against him. You drop your hands to his shoulders, bracing yourself on his form as he pushes you further against the bookshelf. His lips never cease their movement or pressure, a continued force that engulfs your core in heat.

It only takes a moment for his warm tongue to prod at your lips, soft yet domineering in its movements, and you quickly give way to the touch. You gasp into his mouth as his tongue moves over yours, the cool feel of metal greeting you. It takes a moment for realization to sink in but when it does, you just about melt against Jungkook. In one swift movement, his hands slip from your hips to your ass and lift you up. Your legs move around his waist by instinct, a pleased hum leaving his lips as you do.

His tongue retracts from your mouth, and he pulls away so you both can catch your breath. The tension lingers between you, silence carrying it, and you can't keep your eyes from trailing over his lips as he breathes.

"A-A tong... tongue piercing?" You huff out.

"Shush," he mutters, lips coming closer to yours again. You nearly meet him halfway but he hesitates. "What's your favorite thing, Y/N?"

"Wh-What?" You stammer, shocked by the sudden question. Lust clouds your thoughts, and you can barely think straight beyond wanting Jungkook to pin you down and fuck you senseless.

"What's your favorite thing?" He repeats. His fingers draw small circles against the skin of your back, hands slipping under the fabric of your shirt.

"Coffee. Fresh coffee." You murmur back. His head dips to your exposed neck, lips pressing against the skin there.

"And what's mine?"

"Huh?" Again, the question throws you off-guard, and you aren't sure exactly what he's asking you or why. "Your what?"

"What's my favorite thing?" His breath is hot against your neck. Your lashes flutter from the contact then his tongue slips out to drag against your skin. You still don't understand the question even after he repeats it, and it takes you a while to understand what he's trying to get at. You take in your surroundings, glancing over the shelves as though they'll help you figure out what he wants to hear.

"Lo-Lovecraft?" You stutter. Jungkook's teeth sink into your neck, not hard enough to break the skin but hard enough to leave a mark for certain. "Books. It's books."

Jungkook pulls back to look you in the eye. His pupils are blown, nearly completely black from the lust. A smirk plays at his lips.

"Oh..." You trail off. Your hands sit loosely on his shoulders as the information sinks in.

“They say that when you meet your soulmate, you smell the thing they like the most.”

“They also say that you hear silver bells.”

"Y/N... I think you might be my soulmate," Jungkook whispers. His forehead falls against yours, and a breathy laugh leaves him. You don't know how to respond in all honesty. You've never believed in these sorts of things before, and considering the effect it had over your mother, you never wanted to put your trust into it all too much. So, rather than responding, you grip Jungkook by the nape of his neck and pull him closer to you. Your lips clash in a mess of skin and teeth. He nearly bites the tip of your tongue off when you collide, but it quickly melts into the same lust-filled passion from before.

"You talk too much," you murmur against his lips, earning you a laugh from him in response. He reconnects your lips without any further comments. His force takes you by surprise and knocks the breath from your lungs. Another light moan leaves you, and Jungkook eats it right up, filling all your senses with his presence.

Your fingers tug at the material clinging to his muscled body and push the leather jacket off his shoulders. He helps you along, discarding the layer on the floor with the book from before. Your shirt is next to go, his hands frantic at the hem. You part with a gasp as he pushes it over your head, only to meet again with the same level of fervor as before. His body is hard under you, wandering hands tracing unknown patterns along the black shirt still stuck to him. They linger on his nipples. Brushing over those little metal beads you spotted before, you lose your sense of reason and yank at the material in a desperate attempt to tear it off.

Jungkook chuckles against your mouth. He leans back and pulls the shirt off ever so slowly. Your eyes trail over his body under the yellow light, taking in every inch of bare skin before you before landing on those elusive little piercings. With hesitant fingers, you reach out and brush a light touch over them. Jungkook’s muscles instinctively clench under the touch. The pads of your fingers travel over to his arms next and trace the patterns of his tattoos all the way down to his wrists. Each tattoo is delicate and unique, so much ink along each arm that you can hardly see an inch of bare skin beyond the tattoos.

It’s fascinating, intricate and elegant yet harsh on the eye.

“Something on your mind?” He asks as your gaze fails to move.

“They’re beautiful,” you mutter as you bring your touch up his arms again. Goosebumps rise in your wake.

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Huh? Why is that?”

“Because you’re going to see a lot more of them in the future.”

Lips part in shock at his bold words, the shy boy you met on the train gone and replaced by a lust-filled man who knows exactly what he wants. His lips come down against the column of your neck, massaging the skin under his tongue, while his hands work around your back and toy with the clasp of your bra. You can only throw your head back and bask in the pleasure washing over you.

Cold hits your breasts at the same time as your bra hits the floor. Nipples perked and waiting for attention, your chest is now bared to Jungkook. He leans back to take the sight before him in, and a low whistle leaves his lips as he rakes his eyes over you.

“Gorgeous. So so gorgeous,” he mutters more to himself than to you. The pads of his thumbs stretch out to tease at your perked nipples. You moan at the touch, his fingers squeezing and tugging. “How the fuck did I get so lucky? Lucky enough to have the most perfect person on the planet as my soulmate? Unbelievable.” You have no chance to respond because he dips his head towards your chest and takes one nipple between his lips, hand still working at the other one.

He pushes his thigh between yours, settling the muscle flush against your crotch, and you gasp at the doubled sensation of pleasure. With gentle pushes, he flexes his leg against your crotch, and you instinctively buck your hips up to meet his small thrusts.

Whines and moans fall from your lips like a chorus as Jungkook’s tongue worships your breast. The little bead sitting in the middle of his tongue rubs against your skin just right, bringing waves of pleasure down on you. You bring down your hands against his back, clinging to him and pulling him as close as possible. Your nails dig into his skin as he rocks against you, the obvious tent in his pants pressing up against your leg. All the while, you continue to bounce along his thigh. The sensation sends sparks throughout your entire body, clit twitching with each flex of Jungkook’s thigh. That combined with the attention he’s giving to your breasts makes your whole body feel like jelly.

“Ju-Jungkook, I-I–” You fail to complete the sentence, moans interrupting your train of thought. He doesn’t stop to listen to what you have to say; instead, his hips buck against yours. The pressure builds against your clit. Electric shocks of pleasure shoot through you. One of your hands trails down his back, leaving a path of red behind no doubt, and snakes around to cup his groin. A breathy moan reverberates against your skin, his hips jerking forward from the contact.

You struggle with his belt, trying to undo it and throw it aside as quickly as possible, but once it’s loose, you discard of it with ease. You have to pull your other hand from his back in order to pop the button and tug the zipper down. He sighs in relief as you tug the tight material away from his strained cock. You glance past his head of long hair to peep at his crotch, eyes nearly bulging out of your head when you see the sheer size of his bulge.

“Ju-ungkook, the-there’s no way – you aren’t gonna f-fit,” you stammer through the pleasure and moans. Jungkook pulls back as your words register, eyes meeting yours. You must be showing more concern than imagined because his brows immediately furrow at the sight of your expression.

“Hey, hey,” he says. He brings a hand up to cup your cheek, and you lean into the touch. “We don’t have to go all the way right now. We can take it slow until you’re comfortable.”

“Bu-But I… I want you,” you whisper, fingers coming to rest on his chest.

“And you can have me.” The words only serve to send another surge of heat to your core. “When you’re ready and comfortable.”

“O-Okay,” you mutter in response, eyes trailing the curve of his Adam’s Apple as he swallows. “I wa-wanna suck your cock.”

He groans at the words, hips instinctively bucking against you again. You release your grip on his waist and let your legs find the floor. It’s a good thing that you don’t have to stand long, because your legs nearly give out under you. You stay standing long enough to push Jungkook against the opposite bookcase, then drop to your knees before him. Face first with his bulge now, you’re more than glad that he told you to take it easy, because it’s even more daunting up close like this. Lust still stirs in your gut but now it’s coupled with anxiety. With shaking fingers, you dug the band of his underwear down, freeing his thick member. Jungkook hisses as the cold air hits him, but the hiss turns into a choked moan when you fold your fingers around his cock. He’s so thick that you can’t quite wrap your whole hand around him, nor does one hand come close to covering his whole length. Out of all the partners you’ve had the pleasure (or not so much) of being with, he is by far the biggest. It’s a bit daunting as you drop your lips to the head of his cock, but you quickly recover and push the sensation aside in favor of pleasuring him.

The tip of your tongue teases the slit of his cock, bringing the leaking precum into your mouth, and you slowly take him in inch by inch. You drag your tongue along each vein and curve of his member. The slow movements of your mouth draw a low whine from his lips. It encourages you to move faster, and you build up a slow speed, bobbing your head up and down on his cock. His breath quickens as your pace does. You pull off to unleash a string of spit at the base of his cock, letting you pump him without so much friction, and then take him back into your mouth with hesitation.

His hips buck against you, but you can tell that he’s trying to hold back from slamming into your mouth too hard. Part of you wants him to fuck your mouth with reckless abandon, just to feel him lose control and have his way with you, but his restraint is too strong at the moment. Your eyelids flutter as you gaze up at Jungkook, his thick cock stretching your lips in a way that has him groaning above you. His fingers find your hair and bunch it together in his grip. Slowly, still with the same amount of restraint, he helps you bob up and down on his dick as far as you can take it. He pulls back every time the tip of his member touches the back of your throat, but as his pace increases, your throat suffers constant abuse. He pulls out, allowing you to catch your breath and gasp for air. You don’t let him stop for long though and take him back between your lips after a few deep breaths of fresh air.

The grip on your hair falters as you swirl your tongue around his hard member, and his hand moves to the bookshelf, clinging to the wood as a string of curses leaves his lips. His voice is raspy and low. It sends pulses of heat straight to your core, and if you could, you would bring your own hand down between your legs and finger your drenched folds as you suck him off. Instead, you have to keep one hand braced on the dip of his hip and the other on the part of his cock your lips can’t reach.

His hips stutter in their half-hearted thrusts. His climax is coming soon, and as soon as you realize that, you work harder to lavish his cock with your tongue. You’re in the midst of pulling away from his member when his orgasm hits all of the sudden. Hot semen splatters across your chin and neck, a bit falls into your unsuspecting mouth, and drips from your chin onto your breasts. Jungkook releases a broken moan as he cums, head falling backward to watch the ceiling. The second he recovers from the orgasm, he tilts his head down and takes in your appearance. His half-hard member twitches in your grasp.

You do nothing except smirk up at him, fingers dragging across your chest to collect the cum decorating your skin. You smear some of it into your skin but scoop up more of it to push onto your tongue. Jungkook groans at the sight of you toying with his cum. He brings a hand down to cup your chin and lets his index finger run through the white strings across your face before fucking the cum into your mouth with two fingers. You lap at his fingers as though your life depends on it, the bitterness of his cum hot against your tongue. Jungkook doesn’t stop until all evidence of his cum is gone from your body.

“Move back,” he growls out. You scamper back, pushing yourself with the palms of your hands and dragging your ass against the cool wood floor. He lowers himself to the ground as well but keeps a moderate distance from you. Once you’re where he wants you, he stops you by placing both hands on your knees. It locks you in place and you blink at him in wonder. He doesn’t explain what on earth he’s doing, but you figure it out soon enough as he continues to move closer to your abdomen. Deft fingers loop around the band of your underwear and your shorts. Your core coils in anticipation, this very image beneath you the thing that has haunted your dreams for months.

Jungkook’s touch remains delicate as he tugs the articles of clothing off you in one fell swoop, tossing both to the side without care. You can feel your heart racing against the confines of your chest, his hot breath dances over your now exposed core, and he pushes your knees further apart to have better access. Two fingers ghost over the folds of your pussy, thick strands of arousal coming off as he moves across you. The touch is barely there but it still causes your whole body to spasm. Jungkook braces you against the floor with his left hand, pressing against your abdomen so that you sit still under him. Again, his fingers tease your sopping lips.

You release a high-pitched whine, twisting under him in attempts to get more contact out of the man, but he leans back instead. His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth.

“Behave now, princess,” he mutters lowly. The timbre of his voice compels you to obey, and you go slack under his touch. “Good girl.” He rewards you with another touch, fingers pushing past the wetness of your folds and toying at your entrance. He starts slow; with one finger he pushes into your heat. Immediately you tighten around him, clenching your walls as he pushes all the way in. He wiggles the finger inside you a bit before deciding to slip another one into your heat. He nearly growls as you eagerly take the next finger, scissoring you open with as much restraint as he can manage.

“A-Ah, J-Jungkook, more. More,” you stammer out through the shallow thrusts of his fingers. “More, please. I ne-eed more. More.” Jungkook hums, cocking his head to the side as he smirks down at you.

“I don’t know if you deserve it,” he says, a teasing lilt to his tone that has you whining under him yet again.

“Pl-Please, please more. I need more, sir.” The title slips out before you can stop yourself, pleasure too heavy on your mind, and you can’t think beyond the fog of lust over you. Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up upon hearing the title, pupils growing in size even more if possible. He actually does growl this time; a low and animalistic sound coming from his chest. In one swift movement, he drags you closer to him, pins your body to the floor with his hand, and plunges another finger into your needy cunt.

“Fu-uck, you’re so pretty like this,” he growls as you whine at the sensation of his fingers plunging into you. He curls them inside you, brushing your sweet spot and causing you to bend off the floor. “So fucking needy.” You can’t say anything in response; the pleasure has taken over you so much that you’ve resorted to strictly gasps of air between moans. Jungkook continues fucking you open with three fingers, scissoring and stretching you in the best way possible. He brushes against your g spot with each thrust, and you can feel your high already quickly approaching.

You bring a hand down to Jungkook’s shoulder, digging your nails into the skin there in attempts to anchor yourself to reality. Your climax approaches like a wave, but right before it crashes over you, Jungkook retracts his fingers. You whine at the loss of warmth. He smirks up at you, eyes on yours as he slowly lowers his mouth to your dripping cunt. With the smallest kitten lick, he drags the flat of his tongue across your folds, picking up the threads of arousal as he moves. The ghosting sensation nearly sends you spiraling. You buck your hips up against his face; at least, you attempt to but his hand still pins you to the floor.

“You have to say please, princess,” he purrs, purposely letting the heat of his breath brush over your clit.

“Pl-Please. Please let me cum. Please, please, Jungkook. I need it,” you beg, embarrassment and shame gone.

“Please what?” He demands before blowing against your clit.

“Please, sir!” You spit out, trying to fight against his strength to no avail.

“There we go,” Jungkook chuckles with a pleased smile stretched across his lips. “Good girl.” He dips back towards your cunt, pushing your lips apart with two fingers, and presses his tongue into your heated core. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream of pleasure, the sensation of his tongue along with that dangerous piercing in the middle of it sending you so far into pleasure that you can’t move anymore. Jungkook carries you to your orgasm like that, dragging his tongue up your pussy to nip at your clit only two times before the crashing wave of an orgasm hits.

You barely register how his hands slip up to grasp at yours, letting your fingers interlock and cling to each other as you move through your orgasm. He pulls you under his body at the same time. Soft kisses brush your temple along with gentle coos and soft praises against the shell of your ear.

You both remain in that position for who knows how long, it feels like hours but you know that can’t be right. Nonetheless, by the time you recover from the brutal orgasm, you feel as though you’ve run an entire marathon. Chest heaving, you feel around for Jungkook’s head, slipping your fingers through his ombre locks and combing through the strands matted by sweat. It’s the softest and sweetest moment you’ve had after sex – even if the two of you didn’t go all the way. It’s both ironic and strange in your mind.

You’re lying naked on the floor of a bookstore under a tattooed and pierced barista who rides a motorcycle, but also who used to compete in Taekwondo on a national level. Never in a million years would you have ever said that was a possibility. Add that to the growing list of coincidences surrounding you and Jungkook.

Sitting next to a random stranger on the bus at one in the morning, falling asleep on his shoulder, having to get off at the same stop, finding out that you go to the same university, being in the same year as well as having the same major, working across the street from each other, bringing him to your apartment where you just happen to have a dresser full of clothes that fit him like a glove, having a pull-out couch where he can sleep along with a spare set of sheets for it, him always smelling like your favorite thing, you always smelling like his favorite thing, running into each other by some magic coincidence after months of not communicating, having the exact book he was looking for.

How many times can you call something a coincidence before it becomes fate?

You move your hands down Jungkook’s face, cupping his jaw and lifting his head so that you can look him directly in the eye.

“Jeon Jungkook…” You mutter, voice strained by your exhaustion. “I think this might be fate.”

☽ ☾

“Two,” you say after a sip of coffee. The liquid is hot on your tongue, coating your taste buds in the most pleasant way, and the man across from you scoffs at your comment.

“Two? Two out of ten? Are you out of your mind?” He asks incredulously. It’s almost adorable seeing Jungkook get so worked up over your comment, but you push that thought down in favor of sipping at the coffee again. In all honesty, it’s quite delicious; maybe the best coffee you’ve ever had, but you can’t tell him that. It would go to his head.

“Coffee is my favorite thing. I have to be harsh in my judging. Otherwise, it seems like I settle for all coffees, good or bad.”

“So two?”

“Hm… maybe three and a half?” You tease, the smile on your lips stretching against the ceramic mug in your hands.

“This is a personal offense,” Jungkook mutters, turning away from you. “I blame your shitty instant coffee packets. That’s the only reason it’s not good. If we were at the cafe, I would make you the best possible coffee in the universe.”

“That’s quite the promise, Jeon Jungkook.” You sigh against the mug, and a cloud of steam billows up from the liquid. It’s still early in the morning; the bright sunlight not quite peeking in through the curtains over your living room window. After your little “excursion” with Jungkook, you closed the bookstore and decided to head home on the train, but he told you that he couldn’t in good conscience let you go alone. Thus, he offered to take you on his motorcycle; however, you were quick to shoot that offer down thanks to the fear of riding the damn thing.

“Maybe some other time?” You had said, to which Jungkook shrugged and told you that he would go back on the train with you regardless after putting his bike in a safe place. Thus, yet again, the two of you rode the train to Station 45 and got off together, only to end up in front of your apartment door with hands ghosting by each other.

Even as you stumbled into your apartment in a fit of giggles, Jungkook’s lips merely ghosted past yours before he crashed on the couch without even bothering to pull the bed out. You opted not to push him to join you in the bedroom, too tired and nervous to pose the question.

Neither of you has mentioned what transpired in the bookstore the night before, and a large part of you is quite nervous to do so. Regardless, Jungkook doesn’t seem to harbor any awkwardness about the whole thing, which is reassuring to some degree.

Something in you wants more. You aren’t sure what more you want – you’ve gotten more than you deserve from Jungkook – but you can’t help but to feel greedy when it comes to him.

“What’s on your mind?” Jungkook asks after seeing your blank expression. You purse your lips, debating whether to answer the question truthfully or not, but end up shaking your head in denial instead.

“Nothing much. It’s funny, you know.”

“What is?”

“It’s Saturday morning. We must have a knack for meeting each other on Fridays. Is that one of your fate things?”

“Did you not say you thought it was fate?”

“I take it back,” you huff over your coffee, sending a wisp of steam in his direction. The emotion that flashes across Jungkook’s eyes almost resembles hurt. For a moment, the stable ground underneath you quakes and trembles.

“Ah, yea… I forgot you aren’t one for that sort of thing,” Jungkook mutters. His thumb runs along the edge of his own mug. Silence hangs in the air between the two of you.

It only took you four words to ruin not only the calm ambiance between you but also Jungkook’s pleasant mood. He glares down at his coffee, eyes glaring such an intense daggers that it frightens you.

“I was joking…” You mutter in attempts to patch the situation.

“Except you weren’t,” Jungkook says in response, chin jerking up so that he can direct that deadly glare at you now. Your breath catches in your throat. “I’m sorry. That came out harsher than I meant for it to.”

“It’s okay,” you mutter. “I deserved it.” Jungkook doesn’t deny your words, which only serves to make you feel worse about the whole situation. Rather, he redirects the conversation to something new.

“Why are you so damn adamant? Even when there are ten thousand pieces of evidence showing that it is real you still deny it. Why?”

You drag your tongue over the front of your teeth, neglecting to answer the question at first. Jungkook waits, however, in silence for a response from you, and you slowly realize that you can’t back your way out of this.

“I-I… I just don’t believe in it, okay?”

“That’s bullshit. You wouldn’t admit to it being fate if you didn’t think for a sliver of a second that it was real.”

“Well, I take it back. It’s not real, and I don’t believe in it. Fate is–” You stop yourself from spewing the words, knowing that what you might say will hurt both you and Jungkook. He doesn’t let you off that easy though and continues to prod for the information regardless.

“Fate is what? I’m trying to understand where you’re coming from, Y/N. I truly – honestly and truly – believe that you are my soulmate. I believe in fate, I don’t believe this is a coincidence, and I know that you must be my soulmate. I know you think it’s stupid and it’s all a joke to you but… I’ve heard the silver bells, I know my favorite thing in the universe is books, and I know that you smell like books every single time I’m around you.”

“Except you can’t possibly know that!” You counter. You push the mug in your hands down, letting it slam against the marble with a clatter, and hot coffee splashes over the edge. “You can’t know that! You don’t know what you heard. For fuck’s sake, it could’ve been some random ass kid with a bell on his backpack. You don’t know that I always smell like books because you’ve only been around me what? Two? Three? Maybe four times? That is not enough for you to go around claiming that I am your soulmate!”

“Maybe if you weren’t so fucking insistent about it being a lie, you would realize how ridiculous you sound!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Me?” You hiss through gritted teeth. “I am the one who sounds ridiculous? Well, I’m fucking sorry that I don’t feed into pathetic children’s stories that are nothing more than stupid little lies parents can tell their kids so they’ll sleep at night! Fate isn’t real, soulmates aren’t real, and you are the one who sounds absolutely fucking ridiculous because you are insisting that silver bells and the smell of books is what determines your one and only for the future!”

Jungkook is stunned into silence at your rant. You hardly realize that tears are streaming down your cheeks until you stop speaking. Jungkook sets his own mug down and leans across the counter, but you slap his hand away with a choked sob.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you spit before drawing your arms tight around your chest. “If you are so damn desperate to why I know that fate is a farce, then I’ll tell you. My mother sacrificed everything in her life for fate. Her first husband, her job, her home – everything. She gave up everything to move halfway across the world and be at the job fate had supposedly chosen for her. Divorced her first husband to do so, leaving me without a father for years until she met her supposed soulmate six years later. She married him in less than four months, then proceeded to be miserable and unhappy throughout the entire marriage because her supposed soulmate was a piece of shit. And after she got another divorce, she was fired from her dream job that fate had handed to her. She fucking put everything on the line for fate, and what did it give her in return? Two ruined marriages, getting fired, and then to wrap up the whole miserable package she was hit head on by an eighteen-wheeler on the highway. Even on her damn deathbed, she still looked me in the eye and said she was fucking happy with everything fate had given her. So tell me how the hell I’m supposed to put all my faith in fate when all it’s done is give the people I love a shitty hand?”

Jungkook’s lips snap together, jaw clenching so hard that you can see the strain along his face. His gaze falls away from yours and lands on something on the counter. You can’t find it in you to care about what he’s looking at; instead, you rub at your tears in desperate attempts to hide them. Jungkook doesn’t speak as you try to pull yourself together. He stands stunned into silence for a good five minutes before shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Without a word, he takes his still full mug of coffee and pours it down the drain, not even bothering to wash it out before stepping away from the sink. The way he avoids your stare, ducks away from you so as to miss looking at you entirely, hurts more than you wish.

He picks up his jacket from the couch, slinging it around his shoulders, and moves for the door. For a split second, you think he’s going to stop, look back at you, maybe say something in response. At least something. Anything.

He doesn’t. Instead, he twists the handle and steps out into the hallway. The door falls shut behind him, a sharp snap that feels like a knife in your chest. You can do nothing more than stare at the spot where he just stood and grind your teeth together to keep from breaking down in tears again.

How long did it take for things to fall apart this time? If fate exists, then she truly is a cruel mistress, and you don’t want her to be your mistress any longer.

☽ ☾

Since that awful morning you shared with Jungkook, you haven’t seen him or spoken to him. No late-night train rides, visits to the bookstore, not a single word from him via the phone – it’s as though he never existed in your life. Perhaps it’s better that way, but things still feel unfinished in your mind. There was no closure; hell, Jungkook didn’t even utter a word to you after you tried explaining your view of things. Although you should have been a bit more gentle and understanding of his views as well…

Nonetheless, life goes on as though Jeon Jungkook never stepped foot in it. At least, on the outside it does, but on the inside, you are struggling to push any thought of him aside. Your less than proper dreams have returned – of course – but they don’t leave you high and dry anymore. Rather, the end in a cloud of fire with Jungkook accusing you of everything under the sun until you wake up with a start.

That should’ve been the first sign that something was wrong. However, you neglected to pay any attention to the frequency of your nightmares until they started impeding on your sleep schedules and subsequently your work and school performances. Apparently, falling asleep at the cash register isn’t quite “work appropriate”. Thus you started taking melatonin as a supplement for the countless nights spent lying awake in bed and staring up at the dark ceiling without any thoughts in particular.

It only served one purpose: drawing out your nightmares even longer.

Frankly, there is no winning in this situation, so here you are three months later standing in the bookstore and thinking about the last time Jungkook was here.

“Oh boy, I can sense the anger radiating from all the way over here.”

You level the speaker with a stony glare, but he laughs in response, the ding of the door chiming along with his all too cheery laugh.

“What was it this time? Get stood up right before the good part?”

“Oh take a stick and shove it up your ass, Seokjin,” you counter, shoving the book in your hands back onto the shelf so hard that the case shakes.

“Hm, I’d be down for that, not gonna lie. But anyways I smell baggage, and about 170 pounds of it.”

“Excuse me?” You ask. You finally turn to face your coworker, and he just smiles back at you, full lips stretched wide.

“Did you most recent boy toy ditch you?”

“You’re insufferable, Kim Seokjin.”

“And you are quite attractive when you’re angry at me. It reminds me of the good old days.” Seokjin sighs at empty air, blissfully staring up at the ceiling.

“What? The whole three times you made me orgasm?” You bite under your breath, but Seokjin hears your words anyway.

“Oh, don’t undermine yourself, Y/N. As I recall, you were screaming my name in pleasure a lot more than that.”

“Maybe in your dreams.”

“Oh, to dream of the devilish vixen that is Y/N L/N. Mm, I wonder if the sex dreams would be as kinky and hot as your daydreams about your mystery man.”

“Are you just going to pester me left and right? Or is there a purpose for your annoying chatting?”

“There is, there is. Indeed, a method to the madness. And sadly no, I do not want to fuck you again. It’s nothing against you but I find myself rather stable and happy at the moment. The extra baggage that you’re dragging with you would not do well for me.”

“Oh, is that so? Kim Seokjin? Satisfied with life? A miracle truly.”

“You know, your mystery man visits incessantly. If he didn’t buy so many books, I would think he’s obsessed with you,” Seokjin comments, tone light and airy. He says the words as though it’s the most normal thing in the world. You stare at him, eyes wide, but he just continues scanning books at the register without a care.

“He what?”

“Hm? Did I say something?”

“You fucker,” you hiss, spit nearly flinging from your lips as you speak. Seokjin cackles.

“I fucked you, yes. But anyway, he must have terrible luck because he always comes on the days when you aren’t here.”

“No… luck has nothing to do with it.”

A sigh leaves Seokjin’s lips, and he sets a pile of books to the side. For a moment, he just stares at you with wide and perceptive eyes without saying anything. You nearly look away but it feels too much like defeat so you maintain the stare.

“Y/N.”

“Seokjin.” You mimic the serious tone of his voice in attempts to mock him. Rather than reacting as he normally would, he stays still, dark eyes unblinking.

“What did you do this time?”

“This time? Wow, you have so little faith in me–”

“I have faith that you fuck things up.” The words shut you right up, and the tension in your shoulders drops. “Something happened between the two of you, didn’t it?”

“What happened was that I had something fucking perfect right in front of me and I still managed to fuck it up. If fate really does exist, I fucking hate its plans for me.”

“If you truly didn’t believe in fate, you wouldn’t say that.”

“I don’t need fate to help me know what’s right and wrong in my life.”

“Obviously you do because fate put your biker boy in your life.”

“And very swiftly took him right out of it.”

“Had you not fucked it up, then that wouldn’t have happened,” Seokjin chimes in again, side-eyeing you with pursed lips. He leans away from you, almost expecting the book you hurl his way, but it makes contact with the wall rather than his head. “Excuse me, ma’am! You are at an off the wall eight right now, I’m gonna need you to calm down to an icy seven please and thank you!”

“How the hell am I supposed to know what path fate wants me to take? This isn’t some fucking fairy tale!”

“Listen, Y/N.” Seokjin plants his hands on the counter, shoulders shifting as he glances around the bookstore before bringing his gaze back to you. “Do you remember that poem?”

“That poem?” You reiterate. “You’re going to have to be a bit more specific than “that poem”, Seokjin.” A sigh escapes you, and you’re just about ready to go smack Seokjin upside the head when he continues.

“Just hush for a second, please. God, I swear you never let a man finish.” You yank another book off the shelf and poise to chuck it at his head again. He’s too close to the window for you to throw it this time though, so you regrettably have to put the book back on the shelf.

“Kim Seokj–”

“The poem about getting back up after you’ve fallen and can’t get up or something like that? Or maybe it was about not quitting? I can’t quite remember…”

“What on earth is the point you’re trying to make with this?”

“It’s – listen, Y/N. Sometimes we have to take several steps back in order to move forward in the right direction. Sometimes we see the road most taken and decide that that’s the one we have to take, even though we’re supposed to take the road not taken instead. Sometimes – even when we really don’t want to – we have to leave the past behind. You don’t ask a flower to grow when it’s surrounded by weeds, do you? Even if those weeds have been there for as long as the flower can remember. In order for a flower to grow, you have to take away the weeds. I’m not telling you that you have to burn the weeds to the ground. But… Y/N, I know you. I know how much your heart has been hurt in the past. But I also know that your heart – a flower of its own – is surrounded by weeds. If you take them away, set them aside, lock them up, just get rid of them for now, you can grow. You are holding yourself back so much so that every time you try to take a step forward, you just get shot further back.”

“I hate you,” you mutter. No matter which way you look at it, Seokjin is right. He has a knack for saying things like that, always has, but this time it hits a bit different. You don’t know how to express your gratitude, but the smile he sends your way shows that he already knows how you feel.

“I love you too, Y/N.” He hums as he returns to his pile of books, prepping another stack for scanning. “Oh! Before I forget, little lover boy left something with me. He asked me to give it to you, so…” Seokjin trails off as he extends a thin book in your direction. You move towards him slowly, wary of the item he’s holding, and he laughs at your suspicious movements. “Quit being so weird, Y/N! It’s a book!”

You retrieve the book from his grasp, thumbing over the cover. 101 Famous Poems… Why did he want to give me this of all things?

“You’re staring at it as though it kicked a puppy. Damn, Y/N, you’re more savage than I remember.”

You scoff at Seokjin’s comment and turn away, heading back towards one of the tables in the back. You lower yourself on one of the chairs even as Seokjin protests and claims that it isn’t time for your break yet. The second you put the spine of the book on the table, it falls open to a dog eared page. You blink down at the paper, mind almost completely blank for a moment, and when you jerk back to reality, you still aren’t sure if you can believe your eyes.

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost… Kim Seokjin I swear…

“Hey!” You call out to your coworker. He glances over at you over the stack of books. “Did you look at this before giving it to me?”

“Look at what?” Seokjin inquires. Even from a distance, you can spot a slight smile playing at his lips. You begin to call him out and complain, but he continues speaking before you have the chance. “He seems like a decent kid actually. Good taste in poetry, and he seems to have the same message for you that I did. What’s it the poem says? Two roads diverged in a wood and I – I took the one less traveled by. What comes after that bit?”

“And that has made all the difference,” you murmur more to yourself than to Seokjin. Your eyes trail over the pale pages of the book again, drinking in every word as though it’s a personal message from Jungkook himself.

Two roads diverged in a wood and I – I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.

It’s a subtle message, one hidden under layers of nuances and mysteries, but you wouldn’t expect anything less from a man who loves Lovecraft with such a burning passion. The corners of your lips quirk up as you think of the thrill in his eyes upon finding the collection.

“Seokjin,” you say all the sudden, standing up from the chair and looking over at the man in question.

“Yes? Did you have another coincidental revelation?” He inquires, seemingly unbothered by your sudden movements.

“No.”

His eyebrows shoot upwards, lips quirk into a strange frown, and he taps away at the register as you move for the door of the bookshop. You snatch your jacket off the coat rack, slinging it over your shoulders in haste and pushing the small book of poems between your coat and shirt.

“I’m taking the road not taken.”

“Ew, you’re so cheesy. It’s gross. Little lover boy better make sure that grossness stops or else we’re gonna have a problem.”

“Do you ever shut up, Kim Seokjin?”

“Only when you’re going down on me!” He calls after you as you step out the front door. You nearly spin on your heel to knock him upside the head but a customer steps past you to go inside. Instead, you grumble under your breath, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket when the cool autumn airs hits your skin. For a moment, you refuse to move.

The building across the street looms before you, daunting even in its unassuming appearance, but it’s not what is on the outside that is terrifying you. Rather, the person inside who will hopefully be there. If he isn’t there then maybe you’re saving yourself the trouble. However, something tells you that fate will have something to say about that.

With quick steps, you move across the crosswalk along with a crowd of students. The closer you get to the cafe, the more terror builds up inside of you, and you nearly decide to turn around and leave well enough alone. Still, something tugs you towards the cafe, something you can’t ignore, and you pull the handle of the glass door.

Warm air greets you along with the overwhelming scent of coffee. Bells ding above you, and you glance up at the top of the door. Three silver bells hang from red thread just beside the corner of the door, jingling on and on as the door swings back shut.

Silver bells and red thread… how cheesy. You exhale a deep sigh, cheeks puffing out with the motion, then move for the cash register. There is no need to look around for Jungkook, his clear voice rings loud in your ears. He’s standing behind the register, taking the order of a customer in front of you. Laughing, smiling, making jokes – it’s all so different from the last time you saw him, and oddly it causes the pit of anxiety in your gut to sink further.

The girl in front of you laughs along to some joking quip Jungkook makes, hands folding behind her back in an obvious attempt to push her chest in Jungkook’s direction. It shouldn’t bother you. It shouldn’t make you feel any sort of way. You shouldn’t be bothered in the slightest, and yet here you are feeling jealous.

She steps aside a moment later, which is good for your unnecessary jealousy but not good for the anxiety in your stomach. You step closer to the counter with hesitant steps. Jungkook’s eyes are still stuck on the register, tapping away at the screen with a small smirk playing at his lips. Meanwhile, you can’t peel your eyes off him. A black turtleneck clings to his body like a second skin, dark brown apron tied over it so tight that it strains against his chest. Earrings dangle from his ears in multiple places; he’s definitely gotten more piercings since you last saw him and it happens to suit him quite well.

“How can I help you today?” He asks with a typical clear voice. He doesn’t look up at you quite yet, eyes still set on the register. A sad smile plays at your lips.

“I, uh, someone once told me that they could make me the best coffee in the universe here?” You trail the words off into a question, tone hesitant because the second the first word leaves your lips, Jungkook’s chin snaps up. He looks you in the eye, doe eyes wide from either shock, disbelief or both.

“Y/N…” His tone becomes quiet, so faint that you almost have to lean in to hear him. “I thought I smelled books.” He laughs to himself, but it sounds as though he is mocking himself for the words.

“And I thought I heard silver bells when walking in so…”

“You haven’t changed one bit, have you?”

You purse your lips at the question before tugging the book he left for you out from under your jacket.

“Actually,” you start as you set the book down on the counter. “I changed paths.”

Jungkook’s eyes follow the book, watching it slide across the counter and closer to him. His lips part. “Y-You–”

“Something about taking the road not taken. A bit cheesy, but still… meaningful.”

Jungkook’s lip quivers as he struggles to find the words to respond to you properly. There isn’t much to say, and if the right words are there, you certainly don’t know what they are. Anxiety bubbles away in your gut, no thanks to Jungkook’s minimal and unreadable expressions.

“Best coffee in the universe coming right up,” he says after a tense moment of silence. Now it’s your turn to fail to respond, eyebrows shooting up as he speaks. “And don’t worry. It’ll be on the house.”

You smile, and Jungkook mirrors the expression before looking down at the register and tapping away at the screen.

“Does the coffee come with a side order of fate?” You ask, bringing a teasing lilt to your tone. Jungkook releases a huff of laughter.

“That depends on whether the buyer believes in it.”

“She was told in a variety of creative ways that clinging to the past won’t let her grow.”

“Is that so?” Jungkook inquires. Despite the levelness of his voice, you can see the smallest hint of dampness in the corners of his eyes.

“Very poetic, actually. You can’t ask a flower to grow when it’s surrounded by weeds.”

“Beautiful.” Jungkook stops his work at the register, glancing up at you. “There’s always a possibility that… maybe the flower doesn’t quite want to let go of the weeds though.”

“Well, I think this flower really wants to give fate a proper chance. Herself. Not because of what happened in the past or what happened to people around her. Fate gave her a good thing. She wants to pursue it this time.”

“What an interesting turn of events,” Jungkook mutters under his breath. A small laugh escapes right after. “A very pleasant and happy turn of events though.”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, struggling to find the words, and Jungkook just keeps smiling at you like nothing else in the world exists. Behind you, someone clears their throat, and you jolt into action. Stepping away from the counter, you duck over to a booth in the corner of the cafe, eyes trailing over Jungkook all the while. He exchanges the same longing stare as you move, only turning back to the customer in front of him when she begins speaking.

You aren’t sure what any of this means. Yes, you admitted to believing in fate, maybe even soulmates, but there are still so many uncertainties swirling in the waters around you. For a moment, you wonder if this is how your mother felt. You’re quick to squash that thought though.

Jungkook disposes of his customer rather quickly, turning to a coworker and exchanging places with him. Once he has his hands on one of the coffee pots, he turns to you, eyes dancing with a playfulness you can see from all the way across the room.

He dances along to a mesmerizing song as he works, an inaudible one that you can only see in the way he moves from counter to counter, machine to machine, a smile playing at his lips all the while. As you watch him dance from place to place, you silently wonder how you could ever believe it wasn’t fate that brought you here. That allowed you to meet Jeon Jungkook.

He moves with delicate grace, so at home in his surroundings that you nearly cry from the sight of watching him so happy. Never in your life have you felt so at peace. You thought that the bookstore would always be your happy place, the home away from home, an irreplaceable lover, and yet in less than five minutes, Jungkook has wedged his way into your heart. He plays at your heartstrings as though they’re an instrument, dancing along to his created melody without even knowing it. How could you ever think that this wasn’t where you were meant to be?

“Fate…” you mutter to yourself. With shaking and hasty fingers, you whip your phone out and pull open a new browser. It’s a quick search, a hastily typed “what are soulmates”. You aren’t sure why you searched that specifically or what came over you; maybe you just needed some sort of confirmation that this is what you’re feeling. Maybe you need just an explanation to tell you what is going on with your heart and head. Yet, deep down you know that this is not something the internet can answer. No matter how many times you ask or how many people you ask – you will never find an answer that satisfies you. So the first result that glares up at you from the browser doesn’t help one bit.

A soulmate is someone who gets you and understands you on a deeper level. Connected in mind and heart, respect for each other, unconditional love no matter what. Complete and total understanding. Comfort knowing that you can always be honest and be yourself around someone. Someone who understands your thoughts and emotions. Someone who sticks by your side through thick and thin. A soulmate is someone you never knew you needed, yet once they come into your life, you know you can’t live without them.

You pull your gaze away from the screen, heart beating so fast against the confines of your ribcage that you feel close to a heart attack. Jungkook doesn’t stand behind the counter anymore when you look over there. In a flash of black and brown, someone comes up on your right and sets a pristine white mug on the table before you.

“You were so focused on your phone that I thought I was going to scare you,” he jests, nodding down at your device. You hastily flip it over in attempts to hide the search. Jungkook turns to leave the table but stops himself just before walking away. “I, uh, I hope the coffee is good. And after I’m done with my shift – you know, maybe, well, we could–”

“Yea, yes,” you interrupt, knowing what he’s intending to ask before he says it. “Yes, Jungkook. I would love to.”

“Yea, cool. Great. Yes. Amazing, uh, my shifts ends – it ends in about 40 minutes.” He motions behind him, jerking his thumb in the direction of the counter.

“Oh, great! Wonderful, yea. That’s perfect.”

“Of course.”

“Yes.”

Jungkook backs away from your table, nearly stumbling over his own feet as he goes.

“I’m fine!” He proclaims while steadying himself.

“Totally!” You laugh. Jungkook’s cheeks flush dark red, and he scratches the back of his neck.

“Jeon! Get back behind the counter! We don’t pay you to flirt with customers!” Someone calls out from behind the counter. Jungkook’s blush deepens if possible, and he rushes to get back to his station without any further interruptions. You can’t keep from laughing as you watch the man go, so boyish in his actions and movements despite having such an intimidating appearance between the tattoos and piercings.

You lift the mug of coffee he left for you, daring to peek over to the counter again. Jungkook has his stare on you yet again. Once you lock gazes, he ducks away in embarrassment. You laugh against the ceramic, stirring up a cloud of steam, then take a hesitant sip of the dark liquid.

It tastes like nothing you’ve ever tasted before. You have had a great variety of coffees in your lifetime – it’s your favorite thing for a reason, so you are somewhat obliged to drink it religiously – but never have you had a coffee like the one Jungkook made for you. Sweet and bitter at the same time, perfectly balanced with each sip you take. The liquid is completely smooth, just as water is, and yet the coffee tastes nothing like water in the slightest. It is by far the best coffee you’ve ever had, and you’ve only had two sips.

With a small smile on your lips, you pull your phone back up and swipe away to open your messages with Jungkook. The two of you haven’t texted in months so you have to scroll down a bit to find him, but once you do, you send a simple message that you know he’ll appreciate.

Ten out of ten.

You watch for a reaction from Jungkook, and it comes a moment later when he digs through his apron to pull out his phone and check the screen. Bright eyes trail over the screen then over to you. A blinding smile comes next, nose scrunched up as his cheeks round. You return the smile with one of your own then return to sipping at the coffee.

A strange sense of peace lingers in the air. Instinct tells you to be wary of it, fear what might go wrong, and prepare for the worst. Part of you wants to be defensive and assume that things will fall apart in seconds as they did last time, as they did with your mother time and time again. But a larger part of you cannot be bothered to care about those things at all. You want to sit still and bask in the moment, the scent of coffee around you and warmth in your bones.

“Perfect,” you mumble against the rim of the mug. “You’re absolutely perfect, Jeon Jungkook.” Without another word, you return to the browser on your phone, closing out of the tab without bothering to look at the results any longer.

Instead, you busy yourself by staring out the window on your left, watching the cars and pedestrians rumble by without a care in the world. You don’t know how long you sit there, but it must be long enough for Jungkook to finish his shift because sometime later, the man slides into the booth across from you. His brown apron is gone, leaving him only in the dastardly black turtleneck that hugs his body far too much. Now that the apron is gone, you can see the hint of the piercings underneath the fabric. If he notices your lingering stare, he chooses not to comment on it; rather, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips.

“So,” he starts as he brings his elbows to rest on the table. “What do you, uh, what do you feeling like doing?”

“Um… I don’t know.” You purse your lips, blinking back at him. Your nails drum against the side of your mug, the coffee inside completely gone now. He glances down at it as you make the sound and smiles at the sight of an empty cup.

“I told you I made the best coffee in the universe.”

“Oh, hush. I’ve had better.”

“That’s a lie.”

“How would you know?”

Jungkook leans across the table all the sudden, lips coming dangerously close to yours, and you hardly have time to lean away. He grips your chin between two fingers. Eyes dart over your stunned expression. You see the glint of metal as his tongue pokes out again. Hot breath ghosts over your lips, and you begin to lean in to close the gap, but Jungkook pulls away. He leans back as though nothing happened, the only evidence of his games being the coy smirk stretching across his lips.

“That’s how I know.” He folds his arms over his chest as you let out an indignant huff. “I wanna show you something though.”

“What’s the catch?” You ask, seeing the hesitance in his eyes.

“Well, there is no catch… not necessarily, at least. It depends on what you call a catch.”

“You’re quite the catch, Jeon Jungkook,” you tease. Jungkook coughs on his own saliva before choking out a laugh.

“Not that kind of catch. I need you to ride my motorcycle.”

“Is that a euphemism?”

“Y/N, what even–”

“I’m joking!”

“What kind of euphemism would that even be?”

“The kinky kind, I don’t know.”

“Oh my god, you’re a mess.”

“I’m a mess? I’m sorry, have you looked in the mirror recently?”

“It’s called looking rugged. The ladies love it.”

“Oh, and what ladies are you trying to impress out here?”

“Well I’m only after one, and I think all I have to do to impress her is flex my chest a bit. She seems a bit fascinated by what’s under my shirt.”

It’s your turn to choke, and you look down at the table as a fit of coughs falls over you. Jungkook all but cackles at your reaction, slapping the table and making the mug quiver under his touch.

“Please,” he says once he recovers from the bout of laughter. “I’ll give you my helmet to make sure you stay safe.”

“Ugh, it seems I have no choice, Mr. Jeon.”

“Oh, Mr. Jeon now? I think I prefer ‘sir’.”

“Shut the fuck up! Oh my–”

“I’m teasing and you know it!”

“You sound like my damn coworker,” you mumble, arms coming to rest over your chest.

“Oh? Seokjin, was it? I think I met him. He had a lot to say about you.” Your expression melts into a frown.

“Please tell me he didn’t mention anything unsavory.”

“Are there unsavory things to mention? Do I sense a secret past, Y/N? Maybe I’ll have to stop by again and ask for more details.”

“No! Nope, not needed. Did I say unsavory? I meant, uh, unsatisfactory. As in… work-related. Unsatisfactory things about my–my work performance.”

“Your work performance. Ah, I see, I see.”

“Haha, yep. You know me. Always worried about my work performance.”

“Oh, of course, you are. Such a diligent worker never wants to be left with unsatisfactory reviews.” Jungkook chuckles, sliding out of the booth to get back to his feet. The gleam in his eyes tells you that you two are not talking about the same thing, and Seokjin most definitely shared more details than necessary when talking with Jungkook.

“Remind me to beat Seokjin up next time I see him,” you groan as you pull yourself to your feet as well. Jungkook merely smiles down at you but doesn’t say anything else. Hesitant fingers reach for yours, bridging the small gap, and he links his fingers through yours. The tips of his ears burn red with embarrassment, or perhaps it’s nerves, and your heart nearly leaps out of your chest as he takes hold of your hand.

“S-Sorry,” he says upon seeing your gaze on your linked hands. He starts to pull away but you stop him by squeezing his hand tighter.

“No, no. It’s okay. I… I’m comfortable with this.” You squeeze his hand a little tighter. The reassurance spurs Jungkook on, and he tugs you towards the door. Cold air hits you in a large gust, but Jungkook keeps moving forward without a care in the world. You let him pull you along until you round the corner, a parking lot coming into view. A motorcycle sits parked next to the curb along with a helmet strapped in place near the handlebars. Without Jungkook telling you, you know who it belongs to, and he confirms it when he brings you closer to it.

“Okay, so it can be a bit scary for first time riders,” he explains, letting go of your hand. He releases the helmet’s straps and holds it in front of him. “All you have to do is sit still and hold on tight. I think you’ll be able to manage both those, right?”

“Yea, yea. Easy. I can do that.” Jungkook smiles at your response and places the helmet atop your head. It slides on with ease, a bit big for you, but seeing as its Jungkook’s helmet, that much makes sense. He locks it in place with the straps then pops the visor open.

“You look cute in my helmet.”

“Shut up,” you mumble.

“It’s the truth though. You look so small and adorable.”

“Hm, do I smell a size kink?”

“Ouch, right through the heart. I can’t deny that though.” You weren’t expecting that answer from him. He turns away too quickly for you to comment on it or even choke out your embarrassment. “Alright, I’m going to get on first. You can climb on as soon as I pop the brake and steady the bike, okay?”

You nod a few times, watching him move carefully. You honestly weren’t that scared of riding the damn thing until now, because watching it wobble under Jungkook’s weight is a bit unsettling for certain, especially seeing as you are about to add to that weight.

“Okay, you can go ahead and get on now.” He motions to the space behind him. You stay rooted to the spot for a moment, unsure of how to approach the motorcycle or even get on. Jungkook notices your hesitation in an instant. He props the brake again and climbs off, moving over to you with a light smile. In one swift movement that has you squealing, he lifts you and places you directly on the back of the bike. He climbs on after making sure that you are securely seated, settling back into the main seat in front of you.

The engine roars to life. The sound causes you to jerk forward, arms folding around Jungkook’s chest in a heartbeat, and you squeeze yourself against him. His chest reverberates as he chuckles. The vibrations send surges of relief through you. You press your head against his muscled back which proves difficult thanks to the helmet shrouding your head, eyes fall shut, and you do your best to focus on the feeling of his warmth rather than the lurching sensation that happens next.

“You’re going to want to hold tighter than that,” Jungkook calls back at you. You do as asked without thinking twice, gripping his body so tight that you fear he may not be able to breathe properly. He seems satisfied with your hold though, and the motorcycle slowly moves. You dare to crack an eye open as the motion speeds up. Even through the haze of the visor, you can see all the cars, people, and buildings whizzing by. Strangely enough, the faster the motorcycle moves, the more secure you feel. Cold air breezes through your hair although Jungkook blocks a majority of the wind. It’s a strangely freeing and relaxing feeling. You would never want to be the driver yourself – that seems like much more stress and anxiety than you could handle – but just riding and enjoying the feeling of the air and world whipping past you is more than enough.

The drive, however, is over before you know it. Within minutes (or what seems like minutes, rather), Jungkook pulls the motorcycle into a new parking lot, swerving into an empty space with ease. He climbs off first, popping the brake before reaching around to help you stand up. Your legs feel a bit like jelly, and they nearly give out upon touching solid ground again. Jungkook holds you up the entire time, helping you undo the clasps of the helmet, and once he slides it off your head, he secures it to the bike as it was before.

You finally take a moment to drink in your new surroundings. A large building looms before you along with a myriad of other buildings all around it. It reminds you a bit of your own apartment complex, and you’re assuming that’s just what this building is too. Which begs the question: why did Jungkook bring you to supposedly his apartment?

A warm hand slips into yours again, and you instinctively grip it tighter, letting Jungkook tug you towards the entrance without any explanation.

The warmth of the inside air is welcome and brings goosebumps across your skin within seconds. There’s barely any time to think about the atrocious interior decorating of the main lobby before Jungkook is pulling you along to a rickety elevator. You vaguely remember him making a comment at some point about how your apartment seemed a lot nicer than his, but honestly, your own building is in the same state as his.

The doors of the elevator ding as they close behind you. Once the two of you are safely inside the confines of the elevator, you dare to turn to Jungkook.

“What is it you wanted to show me?” You ask. Jungkook grips your hand a bit tighter. A smile overtakes his face, top row of teeth glistening as he does.

“You’ll see. My roommate recently moved out so I had to make use of the empty room somehow.”

The elevator dings, signaling your arrival on a new floor, and Jungkook eagerly steps out before the doors are even fully open. You have to jog a bit to keep in pace with him. His much longer legs are taking too many wide strides for you to keep up with, but he comes to a sudden halt moments later. You crash into his back, hand still linked with his, and crush your arms together awkwardly. Jungkook moves with too much enthusiasm to care. He unlocks the door in front of him, pushes it open, and tugs you inside with increased fervor.

“Ta-da!” He announces with a bright voice as he pulls you into a dark room. Releasing your hand, he flips the light switch and allows brightness to illuminate the room. Your jaw falls open at the sight before you.

The walls are lined with old wooden shelves, books back to back on every shelf. There are so many shelves that you can’t even see the wall, and so many books that you can hardly see the back of the shelves.

“Oh my god…” You utter through the shock. It’s like Jungkook’s own little bookstore, a vast collection of books of all sizes and shapes and ages. Some are old with cracking spines and yellowed pages, others newer with paperbacks and dog eared pages. Yet, Jungkook doesn’t seem to want to just show you the room. He tugs on your sleeve, bringing your gaze back to him, and motions to a shelf with his head. You trail after him, unable to keep your stare from wandering to the other shelves in the room.

“This–” he points to a shelf lined with old books “–is where I keep my Lovecraft collection.” You whip your head over to him. “And this…” He lifts a finger to one book in particular. Its spine is familiar, words faded and hard to read from the wear of the years, yet you still know exactly what it is.

“It’s the collection you got from the bookstore.”

“Out of all these books, this one is by far my favorite,” Jungkook says under his breath as his finger trails along the faded words of the spine.

“Why?”

“Easy…” He trails off, pulling his hand away from the shelf. Next thing you know, he’s leaning closer to you. His hands find your hips and guide your steps until your back hits a shelf. “It gave me you.” He pushes his face closer to yours, and you meet him halfway, lips crashing together in a mess of skin and teeth.

It’s a moment of self-gratification for certain; the feel of Jungkook’s lips against yours is like fine wine, and you don’t want to stop drinking. However, it is also more than just self-gratification and lust, because Jungkook kisses you with such passion and fervor that all your thoughts leave your head. He slots his lips against yours in a way that feels like home, something comfortable and warm and perfect in so many ways. It feels different than the first time you kissed him in the bookstore. That was a heat of the moment lust but this seems more romantic in a way. You have never been one for cheesy nuances or being a hopeless romantic, yet the way Jungkook is kissing you is dispelling all your previous uncertainties with the simple action.

You fold your arms around his neck and pull him in closer and closer until his chest crashes against yours. The two of you move with haste, gripping and tugging at each as though your lives depend on it even though you have all the time in the world. His hands slide across your hips to cup the curve of your ass. He hoists you up with a small grunt, lips parting as he lifts you, and you wrap your legs around his waist to secure yourself.

“W-Wait,” Jungkook huffs against your lips, pulling back to look you in the eye. “I wanna… I wanna get it right.”

“You will,” you reassure. With a gentle touch, you trail your fingers along his jaw and trace the line of his lips, moist from saliva. Jungkook shivers under you then leans into the gentle tracings of his features.

“Bedroom,” he mutters after a moment of reveling in your touch. “I want you in the bedroom.”

“Perfect,” you whisper against his lips. “I want you to take me in the bedroom.” Jungkook groans at your words and pulls you away from the shelf. You prepare to hit the ground, but Jungkook keeps you flush against him, walking out of the room as though you weigh nothing. You don’t have any more time to think about that though because his soft lips find yours again and pull you out of your thoughts.

Your first roadblock hits when Jungkook reaches his bedroom door. He fumbles for the handle, struggling to get to it with you so securely in his hold, but after a string of muttered curses, he manages to push it open. Within seconds, you find yourself flat against a mattress, Jungkook’s warm lips still hovering over yours. You detach from each other only to scramble further back on the bed, and Jungkook leans away to peel the turtleneck clinging to his body off his skin.

You drink in the sight before you, Jungkook’s bare skin heaven to your eyes. Even in the dim lighting of the room, his skin seems to glisten, a honey-toned glow across his chest, and the small glint of his piercings entices you to reach out and brush your fingers across them. Jungkook twitches under the touch, leaning in to capture your lips with his yet again. His own fingers tug at the hem of your t-shirt, and you let him pull it up over your head, exposing the plain black bra underneath. It’s a sight Jungkook has seen before but he looks just as enamored as he was the first time he saw you like this.

He moves slower this time, gentle and hesitant in the way he reaches around you to spring the clasp loose, and his fingers barely brush your skin as he slips the straps off and tosses the bra aside. Rather than driving straight in, Jungkook stays up for a minute and fumbles with the button of his black jeans. He tugs them down, bulge already evident through his underwear, and tosses them to the side along with your bra. You add your pants to the fray as well, tugging them down as best you can, and when they get stuck around your ankles, Jungkook helps you kick them off.

He finally dips back down to join your lips again, chest warm against yours. Your groins brush as he scoots closer to you, and you wrap your legs around his waist again. Fingers find his ombre locks and sink into them, tugging and pulling as he pushes his tongue between your lips. Fire burns in your gut. You’ve waited months to have this opportunity again but it feels so different this time, so much more special and meaningful, and perhaps for once you honestly and truly believe that the man in your arms is your soulmate.

Jungkook tugs the band of your underwear down, wasting no time in getting to business, and frankly, you are quite thankful for it. Your folds are already dripping with threads of arousal. Jungkook releases a low groan as he brushes through the dampness between your legs. One finger slips into your heat, and it draws a high-pitched whine from your throat. Your hips buck against his hand in attempts to increases the friction, but Jungkook uses his other hand to hold you in place.

“C-Can I–would you be alright with me ch-choking you?” Jungkook stammers out, chest heaving. All of the sudden, he seems shy again, the same nervous boy you met on the train. Rather than answering with words, you take hold of his wrist and tug his hand up to the column of your throat with a small nod of your head. His grip remains hesitant as you let your hand fall away from his, but as you grind your hips against his finger again, he gains confidence. With a light squeeze to your throat, he pushes a second finger into your tight heat. The lethargic speed he’s moving at only causes your pleasure to spiral further out of control, desperate for him to pick up the pace and fuck you into next week.

“P-Please go faster, Jungkook. Please hurry up. I need you. I need your cock,” you plea as you bat your eyelashes, hoping to have some sort of effect on him. However, rather than giving in to your desires, he squeezes your throat a bit more, just enough pressure to push your pleasure over the edge, and his fingers crook inside you. A choked moan leaves your lips, and Jungkook eats it up, lips slotting over yours as he slowly fucks his fingers into you.

“You’re going to have to be a bit more patient than that if you want my cock,” he hisses against your lips. Leaning back, he redirects his attention back to your throbbing core and pulls his hand away from your throat to deliver a light slap to your swollen clit. You thrash under the contact, another whine rushing from your mouth. “Last I remember, you were worried about my cock not fitting in your tight little cunt.” The words are foul, but they sound even more foul coming from Jungkook’s lips. As he sees the pleasure radiating off of you in waves, his confidence grows, and you can clearly see – and feel it – in the way he scissors you open at a new angle.

The pads of his fingers brush against your sweet spot with each thrust, just the right length to be teasing it when he crooks his fingers, and you shake under him. You can taste the orgasm mounting, you want it, need it, but Jungkook keeps dashing past that spot as you get more desperate. Another light slap comes down against your clit, and you nearly cum right then.

“Ju-Jungkook, ple–please. Please, oh god, let me cum. May I please cum?” You beg, writhing under Jungkook’s teasing touch. His eyes refuse to leave your sopping pussy though, so you persist and try to bring his attention back to you. “Sir. Sir. Please, sir.” His eyes snap up to meet yours the moment you use the title, pupils widening, and his dick twitches against your thigh.

“Go ahead and cum then, baby girl,” he says with a growing smirk.

A third finger squeezes into your heat, brushing against your tight walls, and you subconsciously clench around him. Jungkook groans as you do, fucking his fingers into you a bit faster now. Your orgasm rushes forward, spurred on by one final slap to your clit, and with a cry of pleasure, you cum around his fingers. Jungkook uses his free hand to take hold of one of your hands, squeezing your fingers between his as he guides you through the orgasm.

“Good girl, good girl,” he mutters against the inside of your thigh. He presses a series of kisses against the skin there before nipping at it and replacing the soft pecks with small bites and marks. You come down from your high relatively quickly, although it’s probably only because of the promise of him fucking you for real soon. Jungkook pulls back, eyes raking over your sweat-drenched form, and he climbs off the bed to pull his own underwear down. You start to sit up, reaching out for his throbbing cock, but he stops you by climb back on top of you.

“B-But I wanna ma-make you cum first,” you mutter as he cages you in with his arms.

“And you will,” he reassures, small smirk toying at the corner of his lips. “Because I guarantee that the second I see my cock inside you, I will be ready to cum right then and there.”

“Then hurry up and fuck me,” you whine. Jungkook chuckles at your impatience and presses a chaste kiss against your temple where beads of sweat are starting to form. His left hand takes hold of your right, fingers slipping between yours and interlocking there, while his right one slowly guides his member towards your drenched folds. He moves slow for you, pushing just the tip in at first and letting you shift on the bed to get more comfortable. Then when you give him another nod of approval, he pushes deeper and deeper until he’s buried to the hilt in you. His cock twitches inside you, the stretch an unimaginable pain that you’ve never experienced before, so much more than any other time you’ve had sex in the past.

The two of you stay like that for a few minutes, deep breaths causing your chest to heave as you grow accustomed to the stretch of his cock, but as more time passes, you grow needy for him to move.

“Can… can you please fuck me now?” You ask, lips right next to Jungkook’s ear, and his hips jolt upon hearing the words. Your words are permission enough for him. He sits back a bit, fingers close around your hips, and he pulls out to give an experimental thrust back into you. A loud moan leaves your lips as he moves. He takes it as encouragement to keep going, building up a steady pace with his thrusts. His cock seems to hit deeper with each thrust, filling you up in the best way possible. You reach around to grip him by the hair and tug him closer to your face. Your teeth clash before your lips do, tongues intertwine in a fight for dominance, and he groans with each pull you give to his long locks. There’s no time for talking, not that either of you could try to speak in the first place because all you can manage are grunts and moans for the time being.

Jungkook slides a hand down your stomach, hesitating over your abdomen for a moment before slipping between your legs to tease at your clit. The added stimulation draws louder noises out of you and spurs your orgasm to approach faster. His thrusts are beginning to stutter a bit, so you know he much be close as well.

“…want you to cum with me,” he grunts against your jaw. That decorated tongue of his teases a path down to the juncture of your throat, sucking dark marks against your skin. His fingers work faster, hips speed up, and your orgasm crashes over you as he gives one last thrust. Warmth fills you, and you rake your nails across his back as your orgasm continues.

You don’t know how long you lay there, spent and exhausted from the sex, but warm and comfortable, still filled with his softening cock and cum. Sometime later, Jungkook pushes himself up, and your chests nearly stick together because of the layer of sweat covering your bodies. He slowly pulls his cock out of you. The sudden coldness is unwelcome, but Jungkook peppers your thighs with kisses, murmuring soft praises against your skin as he does, and that causes your heart to swell with a foreign emotion.

“I’ll get a warm towel for you then run some water for a shower, okay?” Jungkook says as he climbs off the bed. You nod in approval, still too spent to try to move. That strange warmth in your chest doesn’t leave, even after Jungkook heads into what must be his bathroom. You bring a shaky hand to hover over your chest as though it’ll give some explanation as to what you’re feeling.

“Jungkook?” You call out. He reappears in the room a moment later, a fresh set of pants on, and rushes to the bedside.

“Are you alright?” He asks, worry coating his tone.

“Y-Yea, I just… I just had a question.”

“Oh okay, ask away.”

“Wha–What are soulmates?” You ask without looking at him. Tears prick the corner of your eyes and you can’t figure out why until Jungkook gives his answer.

“Soulmates are… people who find each other in every life, no matter the obstacle.”

“Ah,” you exhale. “That’s all I wanted to ask.” He nods down at you, eyes still full of concern even as he steps away. You take the time to sit up straight, pulling a blanket from the foot of the bed to wrap around your naked body, and climb off the bed on shaky legs.

A soulmate is someone you never knew you needed, yet once they come into your life, you know you can’t live without them.

Perhaps it is a day full of revelations because as you watch the man work in the next room, drinking in all that’s happened in such a short period of time, you think you finally understand what soulmates are. And, maybe after all, you understand what fate is meant to be. Despite her moments of cruelty, you somehow found Jungkook. That’s enough for you.

“Jungkook…” He turns to where you stand in the doorframe of the bathroom, eyes wide in question. “What are we?”

His expression softens upon hearing the question.

“Soulmates,” he answers, matching your quiet tone. “Y/N L/N, we’re soulmates.”

☽ ☾

a/n: oKAy hi hello you made it to the end!!! wow!! i’m sorry this is so long deadass it was supposed to just be a drabble and now look where we are this is awko and longo well anyways please give me feedback and let me know what you think!! please don’t just like and reblog without saying anything, please send in feedback on the story, my writing, anything, i live for feedback and it helps me become a better writer!

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