If u have time do you mind doing a angst w/ Denji like we’re his best friend and we are reminding him how terrible Makima is but he don’t listen.You can end it how ever you want like you can kill the y/n at the end or smth I just want something sad.

| pairing: denji x gn!reader (platonic)

| warnings: chainsaw man manga spoilers. angst. cursing. reader death.

| wc: 1k

| taglist: @aylitgirl , @thisbicc , @aki-and-saltfish

a/n: i tried my best :( i can write another one if you want that's more specific :( sowwy *cries*

you chased after him a couple of steps before stopping yourself in front of the door where he leaned down to pull the back of his shoe so that he could slide his foot in easily. "denji, you shouldn't."

he rolled his eyes. "it's not the worst thing in the world."

"denji, she's using you!"

"so what?" he asked calmly, like it truly didn't matter a single bit.

"makima's not a good person, denji. you know what she did to--"

he suddenly glared at you, stomping his right foot into his shoe to get it to fit comfortably before he stood tall, his face level with yours. "i told you not to talk about it."

you tried to reach out to hold his shoulders, but denji dodged, turning to open the door. for a moment, you watched him leave. he slammed the door shut behind him and you could hear him storming off, all while you were standing there, looking around at the mess the two of you had made while doing stupid shit all night to lift denji's spirits. you made him all of his favorite snacks. the both of you made a pillow fort that spanned throughout the entire apartment. he decided to shred up some of photos of your exes he found when he was bored. things were knocked over from playing chase. the entire night had been spent making wonderful memories with the guy you considered to be your best friend since you were born-- even though you two had lost contact for a few years and had only recently reconnected when he got a job as a devil hunter.

but now he was choosing her over you.

even after everything he told you while hiding in your arms, sobbing, he was going back to makima, the person who had used him and made his life a living hell. you thought that you had knocked some sense into him when you told him how toxic she was. you thought he recognized that she was worse than toxic waste.

but when he got bored with you, he got up to declare that he was going to visit makima and ask if he could spend his birthday with her. not you. his best friend. the person who could actually take care of him.

after a minute or so, you decided to chase after him again; but he was long gone. you peeked over the railing over your apartment floor to find denji crossing the street, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his gaze leading him straight towards the nearby train station.

so you followed.

you left a bit of space between you and denji so that he wouldn't catch you, because you knew that if you confronted him or he caught you, it would only end up in an argument where he'd continue to disagree that makima was a bad person all because she was beautiful, while you would maintain your stance that if he hung out with makima any more, he'd die sooner than later. an argument like that would end up nowhere. you'd be upset and denji would still go to her. so the only solution was to see this woman, makima, for yourself, and to confront her instead of denji, to see what her real intentions with him was, and to see if she really was half as bad as you assumed.

he arrived at makima's apartment only a minute before you did. your trail was tight enough that you managed to sneak in through the door he opened for you, and once you saw which floor his elevator was landing on, you dashed up the stairwell to see if you could meet him up there. it was close, but you managed it. and when he knocked on the door, you stayed around the corner until she opened it to greet him then he stepped inside. you waited a minute to gather your courage before waltzing right up for makima's front door. you hesitated. maybe denji was right... maybe it wasn't the worst thing in the world...

no...

you knew what she did to denji. you knew what she was capable of. there was a lot you didn't understand about devil hunting and the politics that were involved in it, but what you did know was denji and how easy it was to manipulate a gullible boy like him. makima was a smart woman who knew exactly what she was doing.

so you knocked.

"oh, denji-kun," you heard makima coo inside, "that'll be the guest i was telling you about. won't you open the door for me?"

denji barked. barked... like a dog...

and then he opened the door.

you saw him standing there, his smile drifting from his face when he realized that it was you and not whichever guest they were waiting for; and then his eyes turned from pouting to panicking when he felt makima hovering over his shoulder. she was smiling innocently at you.

"you must be denji's friend. we were waiting for you," she said.

denji looked over his shoulder, confused.

"i know everything, remember, denji-kun? i even know about your friends you try to hide from me. i know about the things you say about me. and i know that your lovely friend here is worried about you-- so much so that they're willing to steal you away from me..." makima frowned. "i can't let anyone take my precious pet away..."

denji started pushing at your shoulders to insist that you walk back the way you came, but you held true, staring makima down.

"they did'na know any better," denji pleaded desperately with makima. "they're just worried about me! no one's gonna take me away!"

makima was still frowning. "i need loyal pets, denji-kun."

"i am loyal!"

you pulled denji's arm until he stumbled out of the doorway. "enough of this bullshit."

makima glared at you.

"denji's not a pet. he's a person-- a good person-- who deserves far better than the likes of you. we're leaving--"

one second, makima was raising her arm while holding up a finger-gun. the next, she was disappointedly cooing to denji, "you should have been more loyal, denji-kun." then one second after that, she whispered calmly, "bang."

denji cried out just as it went off, but it was too late by then.

Love Letters - Day 5

Welcome to Day 5 (!!!) of Love Letters, a 00q choose your own adventure! We're in the home stretch, friends--as a reminder, we'll wrap up on the evening of 2/14, around 9ish EST. If you're joining for the first time, you can catch up here: Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4

And for those who have been here for the long haul, come see how your voting turned out! Day 5 starts below the cut. 😁

He just had to make one more stop.

Bond arrived in Q Branch to find Q underneath the hood of one of his cars.

“James,” Q said, straightening up at his approach. He rubbed ineffectually at the engine grease on his cheek, only succeeding in smearing it further. “I didn’t know you were stopping by.”

“Why in god’s name do we have a Ford Fiesta?” Bond asked, leaning against one of the work benches.

“Believe it or not, some of the agents actually appreciate being inconspicuous on their missions. You should try it some time.” Q reached for a rag to clean off his hands. “Are you here just to see me, or...?”

“Just to see you,” Bond confirmed. He held up a bag from the Thai place down the block. “I’ve brought lunch.”

It had been meals like this one that brought them together in the first place. Bond had learned early on that Q, in many respects, was not dissimilar to a giant panda: both of them had to eat almost constantly in order to survive, and like the panda, if left to his own devices, Q’s natural diet was almost entirely devoid of nutritional value, consisting of sour gummy worms, liters of tea, and whatever biscuits he could scrounge from the break room. 

He and Bond had barely been friends, in those early weeks after Skyfall—there was a newly-forged trust, and a certain grudging respect, but that had been it. But one afternoon, Q had nearly fainted while fitting Bond for a holster. Bond had stormed down the street to the nearest Tesco, returned to throw a sandwich, an apple, and a packet of digestives at Q’s head, and had stayed in his office until he’d finished them. Before he knew it, he’d fallen into a pattern of bringing Q meals whenever he was in London.

Bond couldn’t pinpoint exactly when these lunches with Q had become the thing that felt most like home to him—more than his empty flat, more than the ruins of Skyfall, more, even, than the halls of MI6 itself. It had happened gradually, a slow thawing of the frozen earth under the relentless advance of spring. And then one day, a few months back, he’d leaned in to wipe a bit of curry from Q’s face, and Q, misreading Bond’s intention, had kissed him.

Bond had never been a selfless man. Self-sacrificing, maybe; reckless with his life and well-being, certainly. But he was selfish at his core, incapable of denying himself the things he wanted most—first MI6; then Vesper; and now Q—curling around them instead like a dragon with his secret hoard. And so he’d kissed Q back, that night, instead of letting him go; kissed him, and gone home with him, and stayed.

Bond lingered over the takeaway containers after lunch, gathering them up to take them to the bins.

“Is everything all right?” Q asked.

“Yes. Everything’s fine. Why do you ask?”

Q smiled, but didn’t answer, reaching out to smooth at the furrow between Bond’s eyebrows with his thumb.

“I’m all right. I just wanted to say…” Bond scrubbed a hand over his face, the words he’d planned suddenly out of reach.

Q sat down on the edge of his desk, his grey-green eyes on Bond as he continued.

“It’s about what you said, the other night, after the movie. I know you didn’t want to talk about it, then—maybe you still don’t. But I wanted you to know—it isn’t just you. I’ve never had a love letter, either, as it happens. I should have told you that night, but I’m telling you now, because I need you to know that any—any lack that you’ve experienced has nothing to do with you. It’s certainly nothing to do with who you are. It’s not a fair world, nor a particularly kind one, in my experience. And if it comes down to whether there’s something wrong with you or something wrong with the world, then the answer is the world. Unquestionably.”

He’d had more to say—at least, he thought he did. But Q was on him, then, knocking the empty takeaway containers out of his hands and kissing him within an inch of his life, and anything else was forgotten.

He wrote the letter in Q’s flat that night, sneaking out of bed while Q slept, the cats curled around his feet. He sat at the kitchen table, the light from the moon coming in the window, and wrote until he’d said all he had to say. He had one last surprise up his sleeve, however, and for that, he needed to go to Bath.

You've probably noticed that Bond did, in fact, write the letter at the end of this segment! If you're wondering how this outcome differs from if you'd picked "sit down and write the letter," the spoiler-free answer is that you would have gotten to read the text of Bond's letter to Q a little bit earlier. You'll just have to wait a little bit longer... 👀

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[2]

The news anchor's clear voice droned hazily in the silence. It made the soft sound of Tadashi's breathing seem loud. He was supposed to be watching tv, but instead, Ainosuke was busy looking at  Tadashi sleeping on his shoulder.

He shifted his eyes to the older man's lashes that were still wet w/ tears, and wiped a tear that threatened to fall from the precipice of his cheek. Tadashi's apartment looked exactly the same as the time he spent there with a few additions of pictures of Tadashi's family.

Yet somehow something was missing. 

There was only one pair of shoes on the shoe rack. The pictures of him and his partner were  gone. Ainosuke felt bad for Tadashi. They were talking when suddenly Tadashi called for his partner.

A pause. 

Suddenly tears just could’nt stop streaming from Tadashi's eyes. 

 After they met at the airport, he asked him if they could get lunch. After they ate, Tadashi gave him his business card and left. Unknown to Tadashi, Ainosuke tailed him. He followed him to the local graveyard and was surprised that the flowers Tadashi bought was for a grave visit. When Tadashi left, Ainosuke checked the grave he visited and found out that Tadashi's partner had recently passed away. It was a shock.

Seeing Tadashi cry out of nowhere broke his heart. He comforted him. After sobbing his heart out, Tadashi fell asleep on his shoulder. When Tadashi woke up, he profusely apologized. He explained his grief and how their daughter advised him to go on vacation to forget. But rather than forget, he only ends up  remembering all sorts of things related to his partner. That's why, slowly but surely, he puts away things that would remind him of the other. It was hard but he has to. Tadashi plans to join a therapy group to help him cope.

Ainosuke says he'll visit him often. Tadashi doesn’t believe it. Ainosuke was a busy man after all, but Ai really goes out of his way to make time to meet up with him. They just talk. Ainosuke tells him abt his day. Sometimes he talks about his ex wife  and about his son. Ai says he’s happy that he takes more from his mom than from him. It was meant to be a joke but Tadashi takes offense. He nudges Ai using his elbow. 

"Don’t say that Ainosuke-sama." 

Ainosuke finds Tadashi’s concern playful. He smiles at him sweetly and turns his attention to the tv. 

It would be a lie if Ai said he had no ulterior motives visiting Tadashi. 

He had. He just didn’t have a reason to act on it. 

Yet. 

The most important thing was that they were back to being friends. As the days go by, Ai feels Tadashi is doing better. There is now a youthful flush to his face that was not there before.

Whenever Tadashi is free, he attends events Ai invites him to. He even got to meet Ai's son, his ex-wife, and his Aunts. Every once in a while, Ai invites him to go on vacation with him. Tadashi, a bit pressured to reciprocate, also invites him, and so both of them go on vacation together, just the two of them, at least 4 times a year. 

They spend time together on each others birthdays. The day before Tadashi's 60th birthday, 3 years after their reunion, Ainosuke decides to stay the night.

After his meeting, he went out to have himself styled and dressed. The maids and even his assistant asked if he was going on a date, being dressed like that. He stopped by one of his favorite pastry shops and bought a cake, then happily proceeded to Tadashi's place. Just like usual, Tadashi greeted him warmly. They had a great dinner together. Tadashi ordered food sufficient for just the two of them. 

The night was still long, so they decided to drink as they watch a movie. Tadashi lost so Ainosuke had the privilege to pick the movie they were going to watch. Ainosuke loves romantic movies so they watch one.

It was just a random pick, but the plot of the movie resembled their situation. Friends who got separated got reunited. Now they are falling in love with each other. When the movie ended, to fend off he awkwardness he felt,  Ainosuke grabs a beer only to end up grabbing Tadashi's hand instead. It was surprisingly hot. They exchange glances. Tadashi giggles at the look of defeat in Ainosuke's face. He clasps Ai's hand as he hunched forward supporting his abdomen, laughing.

Tadashi’s face, ears, and nape flushed. All the wrinkles on his face deepened.

 "Stop laughing, you drunk!" Ai reprimands, still holding his hand. 

 "You’re really  still so adorable eh Ainosuke-sama?" Tadashi says, wiping tears from his eyes. 

 "Tadashi," the tone Ai used made Tadashi pay attention. He noticed a hand behind his back. Next thing he knew, Ainosuke's mouth was clinging onto his slightly parted lips. Tadashi froze; not because of shock but because of the realization that he had been craving for this warmth all along.

Ainosuke kisses Tadashi deeper. Despite feeling that they were both too old for this kind of development, he pulls Tadashi even closer. He didn’t hold any of his longing back, so he was expecting to be violently pushed off. Seconds pass by, but Tadashi doesn’t.

Instead Tadashi wraps his arms around Ainosuke's neck and kisses him with the same fervor.

i have most definitely been voting with my heart and not my head in the wife guy whackdown… but what can I say. sometimes you have to follow your heart…

Bingo

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2.0k T/W: pure, stupid, fluff  A/N: you meet Bucky at a Bingo night ft. Yori ❤︎

it’s a little dorky, but I thought it was cute!

Setting the tables with the rectangle cards, you smiled, straightening them out. Despite what your friends thought, you actually enjoyed volunteering with the local senior Bingo games on the weekends when you could. Feeling like they were often better company and far more entertaining than going to a club. It wasn’t a very big meeting hall, but that’s what made it feel so cozy to you. Hugging yourself when you finished the tables, you stroked the outside of your arms, feeling the softness of the cardigan you wore over your tank top. Sighing happily, you made your way to the announcing host, passing a few comments, as you waited for people to find their way in.

“Hey! Hey, look!” You heard a familiar voice; turning you found Yori and his usual group making their way to their table, with one exception. Smiling you made your way to him, arms still crossed, “no, I want you to meet her,” you heard him say to his friend, making you smile.

“Hey, Yori,” you said, coming to hug him, “brought more friends?”

“I- I’m Bucky,” he reached his hand to shake yours, to which you responded, taking his hand in yours.

“Barnes,” Yori added, reaching to slap a name tag on Bucky's chest.

Bucky took a deep breath, keeping his patience, as he looked down to the tag where Yori had written ‘single’ in parentheses, “yep. . .that’s me.” 

“This- this is the one I told you about,” Yori nudged you on the elbow pointing to Bucky, only making him more nervous as he immediately looked down to Yori with a questioning look.

“Ohh,” you nodded slowly, squinting your eyes at Bucky who met your gaze again, “you mean the anti-social grumpy one who’s scared to come because he’ll lose? That one?”

“Yes! That one,” Yori bobbed on his heels happily with a smile.

“What -I’m not-”

“Well,” you tilted your head, “I hope you have a good time and perhaps win something,” Bucky smiled, “but I think you’re going to need your hand back for that.”

Jaw dropping, he looked down to find your hand still in his, “right,” he laughed nervously, letting go, “sorry, of course.” 

You laughed quietly, biting in your lip watching him look anywhere but to you, mainly keeping his head down.

“Yori, you need anything you know where I am,” you softly placed a hand to his shoulder, “Bucky,” he looked up with a half forced smile, but you waited a moment, “it was nice to meet you, I’m glad you came.”

As you turned to walk away you could hear Yori whisper, “I think she liked you.” 

Followed by a quick change of subject from his friend, “I think you should find our table.” 

And lastly, “I know where our table is, and if you can keep your eyes off her, you’d see it too.”

With a giggle to yourself, you walked up to the foldable table that had been set up for you to sit at as usual. You were alone, but you were in charge of any assistance and you kept the first, second, and third prizes hidden. It was harder than one thought to keep curious seniors from nosing around for them. 

While the night was long and you stayed quiet, you were very grateful to have a little more entertainment tonight. It seemed Yori and his friends got their own entertainment out of teasing and poking fun at Bucky, who was a true sport through it all.

“Absolutely not,” you heard Bucky say. Looking up you saw him holding his card to his chest, with Yori trying to convince him to let him take a peek at his numbers, “are those the rules of Bingo?” Bucky shook his head, but another one of Yori’s friends tried to peek from his opposite side, “Oh,” Bucky dropped his jaw, leaning even farther back in his chair to keep the card hidden against him, “a double front attack? Really guys?”

Unable to hide your smile, you kept an eye on the table, specifically Bucky. Who after giving the group a few amusements, looked over to you. Blinking softly, happy that he noticed you, you lifted your hand to wave subtly. With another half smile, that was genuine this time, he raised his hand to wave, but forgot just how far back he was leaning in his chair. Soon, you watched him vanish from sight and he found himself flat against the floor, with a wince. 

“That’s whatcha get, you punk,” Yori told him through a laugh and an assertive nod.

It wasn’t long before there was a soft murmur of quiet laughs spreading throughout the hall, as Bucky reset his chair and sat properly in it this time. He pressed his lips together tightly and avoided everyone’s eye line, but yours. Hand over your mouth, you looked mildly worried, raising your half furrowed eyebrows at him, he could tell you were asking if he was okay. To that he carefully nodded, before turning to someone else who was addressing him at the table. 

The half way break came up shortly after, and you had to help a few people. When you looked back up from your table you saw Bucky, hands in his pockets and bouncing on his heels about three people away down the small line. Leaning your head to the side to see him, it took him a moment, but when he saw you, he gave a quick smile, before being spoken to by the elderly lady in front of him.

“You’re a very handsome young man, so nice of you to come play,” she said, to which he gave a shy thank you, as she asked you for a new marker, “he’s a very handsome young man, you know,” she whispered loudly, before glancing back at him, “and she’s single you know.” 

Ducking your head, you gave a monotone, “thank you, Mrs. Kasey,” putting your hands over your face, hiding the embarrassment, you composed yourself and straightened up, “hey, what can I help with?”

“Word is you got the prizes?” Bucky perked an eyebrow and gave the most obvious wink.

Half smiling, half jaw dropping, you looked around his hip to see Yori, who was keeping a curiously careful eye on his friend, shaking your head you looked up to Bucky, “so. . .they sent you? I don’t break that easily.” You crossed your arms over your chest, playfully, keeping eye contact. 

“Well,” he shrugged, “to be honest I’d like to know what we’re playing for too, I mean what’s our motivation here? I don’t know,” you covered your mouth, hiding the smile accompanying your soft giggles, “Why are you laughing? This is serious. What is the purpose of playing Bingo if you don’t know the prizes?”

With a real laugh at how hard he was trying to convince you, “okay, alright,” you reached under the table bringing up the prize in your hand, elbow against the table as you held it up, he looked down.

“A jar of jelly beans,” Bucky nodded, bobbing his head back and forth before a confident, “okay, seems fair, what about second place?”

You held up a jar in the other hand. 

Bucky looked between you and it, “that’s- that’s just a smaller jar of jelly beans,” he lifted his shoulders as if asking ‘why?’

“These people really like their jelly beans,” you admitted, “I figure you can guess what third place is.” 

“Seriously?” he dropped his shoulders, disappointed.

“Was there something you were hoping to get instead, Mr. Barnes?” You set the jars down, resting your chin on top of your laced hands as you looked up through your eyelashes at him.

He swallowed, deciding if he wanted to say anything, he winced as if he was going to regret what he was going to say- luckily for him the announcer called everyone back to the tables. He sighed, and you leaned back in your seat as you parted ways again. The evening remained entertaining with Yori occasionally reminding everyone at the table that if Bucky wins he’d share the prize.

Towards the end of the event, Bucky was the only one at the table still in the final rounds, meaning the entire table squeezed around him, glancing at his card and intensely listening. When the last number was being called, they all had a hand on Bucky, clinging to him like it was the olympics and he was their champion. 

“Seventeen” was announced and you noticed a sudden shift in Bucky’s demeanor, even though everyone around him was ecstatic, he looked like his mind was suddenly somewhere else, until he shook his head like shaking off a bad memory and he lifted his card. He didn’t have to say it, his group was already exclaiming Bingo enough for him. He came up casually with the other two, and you handed each of them a jar of jelly beans.

Bucky gave a ‘thank you,’ and took his back, but it was gone before he could even offer it to anyone.

“What’s the joke?” Yori held out the jar back to Bucky swiftly, “I can’t open it.” 

Smiling, Bucky popped open the jar in no time and immediately it was out of his hands again. 

“Congratulations,” you said behind him, making him turn around, he saw you had your jacket in your arms and purse over your shoulder, “I hope I’ll see you next month?” “Next month?” He tilted his head, “I thought it was weekly?”

“Volunteer rotations shift,” you explained, gesturing your hand in a circle, “I won’t be back until next month since we’ve got new volunteers.”

“Oh,” he nodded and there was silence.

“Anyway, I hope I’ll see you around,” you waved to him and to Yori as you left, pushing in the door’s brace open.

As it shut, Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, with a sigh, still watching the door.

“Go,” Yori said next to him and waved him away, “you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Bucky took a moment to consider it, “take the bus okay? I don’t want you guys-”

“Yes, yes, we will,” Yori said, already turning back to his friends.

Smiling towards them, he started a jog for the door, exiting, he looked to find you. Already on the sidewalk, he met up with you. Obviously causing you to stop in your tracks and wait when you heard him.

“Hey, um-” he looked around, “can I walk you home?”

“Sure,” you nodded, smiling.

There wasn’t a terrible amount of conversation, but you liked his company and didn’t want him to feel like he had to talk.

“I think it’s really sweet what you’re doing, what you did tonight” you said, looking straight ahead, even though you knew he was looking at you, “there hasn’t been that much laughter in a very long time,” you exhaled sadly, “most of them spent five years alone, or missing out on seeing their grandkids grow up. I was so happy to see their smiles.”

“And what about you?”

You finally turned to him, “I was here, alone” looking down, you laughed, “then again I was alone before, so. . .” you bit in your lower lip, wincing “that sounded so pathetic.” 

This time he laughed with you, “no,” he shook his head, “I know how alone feels.”

Stopping on the sidewalk, you exchanged glances, “well, this is me,” you pointed up to your apartment building.

“Right, okay,” he breathed nervously.

“Thanks for walking me home,” you said, walking towards the steps.

“Yeah,” he ran a hand through his hair, “hey, do you- would you want to get dinner?”

“Finally,” you giggled, before turning back to him, “it took you four blocks to ask!” He gave a shocked expression, only making you smile bigger, “I’m free Sunday, meet you right here at six?”

“Okay,” he said happily, “it’s a date then.”

“Perfect,” you squeezed your arms, hugging yourself.

He swallowed harshly, before taking a step closer and leaning in to kiss you on the cheek, sweetly. When he pulled back, he looked slightly nervous, as if that was the wrong thing to do.

“You missed,” you batted your eyelashes, with a soft smile.

Bucky took a second, unsure if you were serious, either way he took his chances and met your lips with his. Somehow this one took you by more surprise, causing you to move your hands against his chest, holding on to his jacket, until he pulled back.

“Bingo,” you whispered.

A Sister's Love

Pairing: Platonic Damian Wayne x Al Ghul!Reader

Warnings: Injuries and blood. Drugging, Trafficking and sexual assult but these are not the main themes.

Word Count: 4.9K

Summary: You realize you have a lot to learn about yourself outside of your little brother, Damian's, shadow.

A/N: Was originally gonna make this a Dick Grayson x Reader but realized it would be weird cuz of mixed families and stuff. And I don't wanna be pushing the boundaries of incest.

Growing up in the League of Assassins meant a lot of things for you. It meant that you were raised to be powerful and commanding. It meant you knew how to kill a man in 47 different ways and counting. It meant that you were raised to rightfully think that you were the best.

Although for every good thing there was always cons. Your schedule was rigid and your peers were unfeeling. Your mother most of all, but that didn't stop you from trying to win her affection. It was the reason why when your little brother was born you felt threatened.

That was until you met little Damian. Your mother had handed him to you with a smile of pride that she never showed you and you hated him. But then you saw his precious little face, a nose tinier than a button and adorable lips that were curled into a pout. He was so beautiful.

Since then, you put any differences you might have had with your mother behind you. According to Ra’s it would have been a mistake to show Damian such tenderness, to teach him about loyalty to your heart, instead of without it.

But Talia couldn't ignore the tug she felt in her heart seeing you and Damian together. You still worked hard, harder than she had ever seen before, now determined not to show that you were weak and have them take your brother from you. Damian followed your example, training to her approval, however taxing it was for him.

And more importantly, Damian loved you. You were the first woman he had ever loved and he was smart enough to know that would never be a mistake. You were his shelter in a storm, his fire in the cold. You were the best sibling that anyone could ever even dream of.

But then you had to part. At age 10, Damian went to live with his father, Bruce Wayne. You had never met the man when he was with your mother and you assumed you wouldn't need to, he wasn't your father.

Both you and Damian didn't want to leave each other. You'd miss your little brother and you'd miss the feeling in your chest whenever you'd look at him. Damian would miss home; he would miss your presence and he would miss the familiarity. But he couldn't stay.

That's something you learnt at the League. Damian couldn't stay, with you. He was meant for bigger things than you.

Another thing you learnt was that you didn't have to stay either. You wanted to see the world, see what everything else had in store for you. And your mother, bless her, gave you her blessing.

Of all the things the league taught you, there were things they missed out on. And a part of you was thankful for that. Because you enjoyed the feeling of wide-eyed wonderment when you stepped into a train station for the first time ever.

You had never tasted a chocolate muffin before, you realized as you stuffed your face at a local bakery. Coffee and chocolate muffins went well together. You liked sweet things better than spicy things, you noted when you didn't enjoy the tteokbokki you bought at a Korean food stall.

People were kind, not foolish. They smiled at you when you came in and genuinely asked you where you were headed. Like the woman you met on the tram who was heading to Washington DC. Even through the short ride, the two of you had bonded and she had left you with her phone number and a promise that if you were ever in DC, you would ring her up. Diana was trusting, too trusting. You could have assumed it was because she was stupid, but you wanted to believe it was because she was smarter than even you.

Some people were kind like her but of course, some were impolite and pig-headed. You of course didn't waste any time putting them in their place. Maybe that was why you shouldn't have any faith in humanity.

But isn't humanity just the thing you should be putting faith in?

It was fun at first, discovering new things, seeing how people really lived outside of books and things taught to you back at the League. You knew everything, you weren't naive enough to be oblivious but reading about something was miles apart from actually experiencing it.

After a while however, you got lonely, it was a huge world with people constantly moving and you've come to realize that unless you're with somebody, you can't really move from your place. Instead, you'd be stuck watching all of them. So, you sought after your brother.

It was easy enough to track Bruce Wayne, he lived in a house large enough to be seen from outer space. Getting to Gotham took longer than you expected. Time passed so easily when you didn't have a purpose but now that you had somewhere you needed to be, the train couldn't go any slower.

Gotham City was less gloomy than people made it out to be. The sun was shining and the city was bustling. In some ways, it seemed a little homey. Maybe that was because you didn't have to worry about someone hurting you. If anything, they should pray that they don't choose you as their next victim.

Of course, you could've gone to Wayne Manor and introduced yourself civilly but you wanted to see Damian more than anything and didn't want to delay it any longer. And more than that, you wanted to see Damian is his cute little school uniform.

That's what led you to wait outside of the well-reputed Gotham University, waiting patiently for the bell to ring and students to file out of it. You already knew that they wouldn't come out singing like in the movies but a very small fraction of you still hoped.

Your heartrate increased with every passing minute, excited to meet your brother after nearly a year of being apart. Eventually, the bell did ring and students began trickling out of the doors, looking like bumble bees, excitedly zipping around and talking to their friends.

'Would this have been my life if I was never born in the League?' You wondered, looking at a girl who was animatedly chatting with her friend, arms interlocked as they moved towards the parking lot where their parents were waiting.

When you finally saw Damian, you suddenly felt out of place. Like an outsider watching someone else's brother when you saw his eyes lock onto someone in the commons. Even though you weren't on the school campus, you could still recognize who it was.

Richard Grayson, oldest son of Bruce Wayne, waiting to pick up your little brother on a motor cycle.

And for the first time in your life, you experienced insecurity, watching them greet each other like brothers. The feeling was sour and you wondered if it was a mistake coming here, thinking that you still had a place here.

It was true, people didn't move from their place unless they had someone to go with. You hadn't felt fulfilled like that since your brother stopped being at your side. He was everything you knew. It was just your mistake for thinking that in the year apart your brother wouldn't have found anyone either.

***

"Drake, pull up the security cameras from today at my school parking lot." Damian ordered, stepping into the Batcave.

"No 'Hello', no 'How you doing?', it's always 'Tim, do this' 'Drake, do that'," Tim commented sarcastically but still pulled up whatever he needed, "And then as soon as I give you what I want, you're going to forget me again. And not even visit the kids."

Dick spared him a laugh at his dramatic scene, ruffling his hair as greeting and then turned his attention to the screen. The footage was played at double the speed until Damian's eyes locked onto just what he wanted to find.

It was just for a second, when Dick's motorcycle had zoomed past but that was all he needed. Damian had seen your face and it wasn't any mistake, he'd know you even if he was blind. Even though he was so sure it had been you, he still couldn't hide the way his body froze, eyes wide when he saw your face.

It was the same face he'd see every night before he went to bed and the very first person he wanted to see every time he woke up. Your image was what came into his mind when he thought of being nurtured, when he thought of being safe.

There was a time when he was younger, too young, there was a thunder storm. He doesn't remember much from the night, just hiding his face against your chest and you wrapping a blanket around him. His mother trained him even harder the next day, until he almost dropped but he'd never forget curling up to your warmth. Not even now, when he knew that thunder storms were the least of his fears.

It was as simple as that. With his father and brothers, he didn't have to worry about looking weak, he didn't think of love as a weakness, rather he considered it as the fuel behind strength. Yes, his father taught him well. And now he would show you just how much he's grown. So, you can be proud of him.

"We need to find her."

"Why? Who is she?"

"My sister."

***

Of all the things you wanted to experience, visiting a bar was one of them. Was the air really enough to intoxicate you? Were you really going to lose all sense when you stepped into it? Would be able to drink your troubles away?

You were sorely disappointed. The alcohol didn't taste good, it burned when you swallowed it and made your tongue feel fuzzy. The music was so loud that your brain began throbbing against your skull to the beat of the song.

Men were picking fights and women were having fun but even then, you couldn't find it in yourself to get up and actually have fun. I mean, how were you supposed to? How was cosying up against a drunk man supposed to make you feel better? How was getting lost in throngs of sweaty people who didn't know what personal space was meant to improve your mood?

If anything, it just reminded you of just how pathetic your life was.

You were realizing you had no purpose. Damian was all you had known for years now, knowing only to protect him with your life and love him with your heart. Who were you without him? What did you like? What made you happy outside from your duty at the league?

A man knocking into you brought you out of your thoughts, which had been happening all night. Except this man stopped in front of you and gave you a smile that turned your stomach upside down.

"Sorry about that pretty lady, let me buy you a drink to make up for it." He spoke with a voice that was trying to be smooth but instead sounded like metal scraping over each other.

"No, thank you." You said sharply, not yet done with your Manhattan anyway. You were barely enjoying your time here as it was and you were sure another drink wouldn't change your mind.

"Not a fan?"

You shook your head at him, choosing to humour the man.

"Then let me buy you another one, if you don't like it then you have nothing to lose."

You pretended to giggle at him and he swelled with pride. Did he think he was winning?

"One Boulevardier." He told the bartender who nodded and began preparing the drink. Until it was ready, you indulged the man in front of you who reeked of cigarettes and alcohol.

He placed the drink in front of you and if you hadn't known that it would burn going down and turn you into a shell of yourself, you might have been curious to what it tasted like.

"You see that dude over there?" He nodded to a man standing in the other corner of the bar and you turned to look at him. Another man, covered in tattoos who didn't look any different than the one standing behind you.

"He's my pal, owns the bar. Ask him and he'll hook you up with free drinks tonight. For a price, of course."

You turned back around to face the man and out of the corner of your eye saw something dissolve into your drink. It was only for a second but you saw the last remaining grains turn invisible and you definitely noticed the way the once steady drink was now swirling into a vortex in the middle.

"Drink up, princess."

You smirked. Tonight, might be fun after all.

***

This was boring.

You had been pretending to be unconscious for about 40 minutes while these men drove you to some undisclosed location. Their conversations were unbelievably dry and it's not like you had anyone else to talk to. Everyone else who might have been even mildly interesting were knocked unconscious.

Eventually they pulled up to some sort of holding facility and if your assumptions were correct then this would be a midpoint before they sold all the girls here to some sort of pimp.

Once they lugged you off the truck and threw you into a room with so many other people, you could hear their breathing did you open your eyes. It seemed like this was some sort of abandoned butcher or meat factory, judging by the ominous hooks hanging above your head and the metal walls. The door had been bolted shut, the only way to look through it was a small glass window.

Only after you finished taking in your surroundings did you even look at the other women who had been trapped in the room along with you. Your stomach turned.

There were so many unsuspecting faces who looked like they didn't sign up for this. Half of them looked under the influence of something, sweating profusely even in their sleep, faces scrunched up in pain. The other looked like they were forcibly taken, bruises covering their skin, hair and clothes in disarray and more than half of them had either a black eye or a swollen lip.

Maybe it was their fault for not being trained, that's what someone at the league would've said. But isn't it their captors’ fault for misusing their training, their strength, for something as vile as this?

You decided to wait, you couldn't assume that this small group of girls was the only one in the confines of the building. How many more were here?

You weren't feeling overwhelmed, not at all, not with the weapons that were littering you. A kunai hidden is either of your boots, throwing stars in your pockets hidden underneath your vest and a war fan in your pocket. You could handle these clowns without even looking up.

But it wasn't your life you were concerned about. It was the lives of these underaged, vulnerable girls who had fallen prey to these monsters.

While you were waiting a couple of the girls started to wake up. Some were still heavily drugged, still groggy when their eyes fluttered open and unable to focus onto anything. Others shot up straight as an arrow and began crying, screaming, begging for them to let them out.

They were ignored, by both their captors and you. Why try and reassure then when you weren't sure what was going to happen. More importantly, why throw off the monsters lurking outside the door that there was one woman who hadn't been phased.

Instead, you just stared blankly, trying to get comfortable and hear anything through the walls. Eventually, you heard the sound of footsteps coming towards the room. You covered the lower half of your face with a scarf, making sure that anyone who left here alive today, wouldn't be able to remember your face. Whether it be as a saviour or their punisher.

The girls whimpered and curled into one another, crying quietly and you felt sympathy. There was no way they'd be able to move forward from this without having fear stab at their heart with every step they took. You could only hope they had something in their life that would make them feel safe.

For tonight, you'd be that for them.

A few men opened the door with a cruel smile, stepping inside for a second before bolting it shut. They flaunted guns and other weapons to the girls, finding pleasure where there should be compassion and worry. You were disgusted watching their smirks twist maniacally when the girls cried harder seeing them brandish their weapons.

One of the men stepped forward and grabbed the girl closest to him who begged and cried to spare her. His disgusting hand might as well be made of acid because you almost felt the sick burn when it snaked between her legs and copped a feel while she sobbed and screamed, trying to fight him off.

You grabbed one of your weapons and returned their sick grins with one of your own.

It was going to be hard to cop a feel when he can't feel anything.

You were going to break each and every bone in his hand to ensure that.

***

"Can I borrow your phone please?" You asked the bloody and broken man by your feet. He glared at you and spat blood on your boots, unable to do anything else. You sighed and faked a pout.

"Is it here?" You wondered, holding the dirtied boot over his ribs and his eyes widened, catching drift of what you were about to do. You rammed your foot into his broken ribs, courtesy of yourself, and he screamed bloody murder. Music to your ears.

"Apparently not. Want me to check your pants?" You asked, raising a brow and he frantically shook his head, using whatever strength left to pull out his phone from his pocket and you smiled, thanking him quietly.

"Now, let's hope that one blow is enough to put you out of my misery." You sang, punching him right in the face and he passed out. Lightweight.

You took a look around the place, seeing bodies littered over the place like confetti. Blood was scattered on the ground and you're sure if people looked hard enough, they'd find someone's teeth. You on the other hand looked fine.

You sat on the floor, crossing your legs comfortably, tired after the fight and dialled a number onto the phone.

"Hello, police?"

"Yes, how can we help you?"

"Well, there's a sex trafficking scam going on at my location. Quite shoddy but they have a number of women trapped here and it would be nice if you could send backup to have them escorted home safely."

"A sex trafficking scam?"

"Well, it could be just a regular trafficking scam but I'm not too sure."

"All right, I'll have someone check it out."

"Good, and I realize you might get a lot of calls like this but please don't talk to me like I'm an idiot. Tell your people to send a couple of ambulances as well, you'll need them."

"Of course."

You could only hope the person on the other end of the line would eat their words when it was on the front of the newspaper. For now, your work was done.

In the meantime, how were you going to get anywhere from here? Where even were you? Was there anyone even conscious here who could give you directions? Or would you have to call the police again to find out where to go?

Not that you'd wait long enough for them actually arrive here. You'd return to the bar way before that for another drink. Maybe now you'd actually be able to enjoy one.

Just as you were about to leave, you heard a creak coming from the other end of the warehouse. It echoed through the halls and you leapt to your feet, soundless moving to hide in the shadows and pulling out a kunai.

The footsteps that followed it were light and airy, barely even touching the ground. They were trained, whoever they were. You kept your ears open in order to hear something.

"Whoever was here was trained." You heard someone comment.

"Are you really that stupid, Nightwing? It's obvious that my sister was the one who took out this ring and reported it." Came the snappy reply back and your breath caught in your chest. Make no mistake, that was your brother's voice.

"We must find her."

He was actually looking for you? He knows you're here? You're not entirely surprised, you haven't exactly been careful or stealthy when it came to concealing your face around Gotham. A mistake on your part but you couldn't have been more relieved.

You still remained quiet, not wanting to disturb the flow, not wanting to interrupt. You had the mind of a soldier but when there was no one to follow you seemed more like a sheep. It made you feel slight shame, that you were unable to stick up for yourself despite being so many things.

Maybe, the league wasn't the best thing for you.

Immediately you scraped the thought from your mind, berating yourself for even thinking that. The league had given you everything, everything you were today was because of them. You were strong and calculating, the leagues proud soldier.

You were proud of your roots, thankful that you grew up to be the person you were. They had given you everything, and your brother was just one of the gifts that you had been blessed with in your life.

"Damian." You spoke softly, stepping out of the shadows. His head snapped towards you, eyes widening when he took in your form. It really was you. His sister.

Damian wasted no time in bounding towards you and you knelt down to meet his eye level, catching him with open arms. A part of your heart sang when you realized he was still small enough to fit in your arms. He still held you close. He still loved you.

"I've missed you, Ya Amar." You spoke softly, cradling his head that was buried in the junction of your neck.

"I as well, Okhti."

***

Damian was ecstatic that you were in Gotham. Of course, it didn't look like it to anyone but everyone who knew him well could tell that he was happy that his sister was home with him. He didn't wait for even two seconds when you got to the Batcave (much to Bruce's surprise) to show you all his pets.

The next few days would be considered the best of his life.

Damian wanted to be as close to you as possible, sitting near you during meals, training with you, talking with you, even going as far to sneak into your temporary bedroom at night for cuddles. He certainly got more comfortable showing affection since the last time you were around.

He showed you his hobbies like painting and sketching and you were impressed. He had the skills to be doing something like this? Damian had picked up many new talents and many new stories since you last saw him and he was eager to share them all with you.

The next few days would be considered the worst of your life.

You had found Damian now, so why didn't you still feel fulfilled? Why did you feel like something was missing? Like this wasn't meant for you? Why weren't you satisfied?

Why did you feel envious that Damian got to experience so many things? Why did you feel resentment against him when you realized you never got the same things he has?

Your life felt like it amounted to nothing.

You loved your brother but so far you had just been living for him. And now that you realized there were parts of the world that you wanted to see. There were thoughts in your mind that were of your own and desires that you didn't have to explain to anyone. As long as it made sense to yourself.

And you realize one thing with an aching heart.

You couldn't stay here in Gotham.

"Does Damian know?" Bruce asked you one day when you had asked him a favour. Bruce so far had been a little cold and unfeeling ever since you had met him in the Batcave uninvited. His feelings towards you got more negative when you gave an offhanded comment about how you thought he was taller. But he was the only one you could ask for a favour. He was the father to your beloved brother and you could only hope he would offer you the same consideration.

You had asked him for a flight to Washington, to see if Diana really meant what she said. To take a leap of faith for the first time in your life.

You shook your head no, "Not yet. I'm hoping he will take the news well. It's not like I'm leaving forever. I just—I need to—" You trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Bruce nodded, "I understand. Just tell him before you go. I don't think I've ever seen him this happy before."

"It makes me feel worse." You admitted, feeling a little guilty. How could you not feel happy at your brother’s happiness?

"You need some time to figure out that your world is yours. No one else should determine how you feel about yourself."

"You are very wise," You said softly, "Thank you."

***

"I love you dearly, Damian." You tried to coerce him from his room where he had locked himself in only 5 minutes ago. No doubt he was sulking since he found out that you would be leaving for DC in two days’ time.

"If you did, you wouldn't be leaving!" His voice was muffled, as if his face was buried in his pillow or even Titus. You had been trying to coax him into open the door for 20 minutes now and had multiple offers from Grayson, which you turned down.

"Oh, for the love of—Damian Wayne, you open this door right now!" It was silent for a moment before you heard the lock click open and took that as the indication from him to step into his room.

It was large and from the moment you stepped in, it was easy to tell the space was his. There were swords mounted on the wall, paintings on the wall adjacent to it. His desk was tidy and in the corner of his room, there were multiple easels and sketch pads.

Damian was sulking on his bed and you sighed, feeling guilty. You sat beside him and ran your fingers through his hair. Even though he was upset with you, he still sank into your touch, feeling comforted by mere contact.

"It's not forever, Damian. Wherever I'm going, I'm going to come back. I just need some time to myself." You tried to explain.

"But why!"

"The league taught me well, Damian. But it taught me to live like a soldier, but not as a person. There are so many things that I don't know about myself. What do I like? What do I want to do with my life? And I need to figure it out for myself."

"Why can't you do that here?"

You gave him a pained look and realization dawned on him, "Because of me."

"Damian, in the time we spent apart you learnt so many things about yourself. That you like animals, that you like art. There are so many blanks in my life and I need the distance to figure it out. I need to understand myself." You explained wistfully.

It was true, there were so many blanks in your life. You didn't even know what food you liked better, what hobbies you enjoyed. You wanted to experience new things, without the influence of Damian, without relying on him. And more importantly, you were scared you would put Damian above yourself time and time again.

It was all you knew. Damian was worth more than your life, worth more than your heart. But if that was true, you wanted to know at least what your heart was worth to you. If you didn't hold any value to yourself, it would be foolish to think you would to anyone else.

You needed the distance. You needed something new. You wanted to dive into uncharted waters and figure out the magic for yourself, without anyone to help you.

"It's not forever," You reminded gently, "I'm going to come back, I can promise you that."

Damian began leaning until his head was settled in your lap and you chuckled, gently scratching his scalp and he nestled into your belly. Hard to believe this was the same boy who left only a year ago. You wondered if you would change as much as he did or if you were stuck in your ways now.

"Okay," He said, voice muffled and you smiled, "I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Thank you for your blessing, Ya Amar. It means the world to me. I love you; you know that."

"I do." He said, now wrapping his arms around your waist, "I love you too."

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

Karasuno boys when you wander away

Characters: Tsukishima Kei, Dachi Sawamura, Asahi Azumane, & Kageyama Tobio, all with a Fem!Reader

Warnings: probably some swearing but nothing besides that :) 

A/N: So this is somewhat based on my IRL relationship haha. I’m very bad with just walking away or getting distracted by something and always worry my partner xD thought it would make for some cute headcanons! Let me know if you’d like more!

Haikyuu Masterlist

Tsukishima had only looked away for a moment. He walked towards a fresh fruit stand, glancing at the peaches and wondering if you wanted one to snack on on the way home. He glanced back and his lips parted to ask you, but you were no where to be seen.

His lips turned into a frown, trying not to give into that small moment of panic as his eyes scanned the outside market. You were no where to be found nearby. His heart pulsed harder against his chest as his mind reminded him of that news story of girls going missing in public places. Tsukishima pushed through people, giving half-assed apologies as he thought about you being dragged away and no one noticing. How had he not noticed? How would he find you? What should he do now?

His heart raced as he continued to look for you, giving out a small yelp when he felt someone grab his hand.

“Tsukki?” You were suddenly next to him, smiling innocently up at him. “Are you okay?”

The rush of relief that came with seeing you next to him was followed with frustration. “Idiot! Where did you wander off to?” He scolded, his hand tightening on yours.

“There was a puppy,” you admitted with slight embarrassment, smiling shyly. “I just gave him a couple of pats - he looked so lonely. Everyone was ignoring him,” you explained, nodding towards an older man who was dozing off on a bench. He had a leash in his hand and a large dog sat next to his feet, eagerly watching people was if begging for someone to pet him.

Tsukishima shook his head in disbelief, “You scared me for a dog? Moron,” he grumbled, pulling you further into the market. He didn’t want to be in such a big crowd right now.

You giggled, trying not to note the redness in his ears, “Aw I’m sorry Tsukki, I didn’t mean to scare you.” You tugged on his arm gently, trying to give him an apologetic smile but he kept looking away from you.

“Whatever, get yourself lost for all I care,” he pouted slightly and you tried your best not to laugh at how such a tall boy could act like a 4 year old.

“I’ll stay with you, promise. Won’t ever leave your side!” you insisted, clutching his arm and beaming up at him.

Tsukishima glanced at your smile, noticing it looked... almost playful? “What?” He raised an eyebrow, already knowing he wasn’t going to like the answer.

“You care about me,” you teased, reaching up to poke his nose playfully. “You were worried about me because you careeee about me.” You had expected him to pull his arm away, stomp off until you apologized for making fun of him.

But instead he just rolled his eyes, flicking your forehead gently, “Maybe just a bit.”

That surprised you just a little, your heart skipping a beat or two in response, “I am sorry, Tsukki, I didn’t think I went off that far. It just got really crowded,” you told him sincerely, squeezing his hand gently. “But lucky for me! You’re so tall so it’s easy to find you!”

Tsukishima scoffed some more but blushed anyways, feeling now like he had overreacted, “Whatever. You’re buying me a snack to make it up to me, idiot.”

“Mmkay!” You beamed, the two of you roaming the market together. Tsukishima pretended like he had completely forgotten the whole thing, but you noticed that he never let go of your hand that easily after that. And he always kept you close in crowded areas.

So yeah, maybe Tsukishima Kei really did care for you.

Daichi is a calm cool collected dude. Calm. Cool. Collected. It was as if he was chanting these words in his brain, eyes frantically trying to find you. CALM COOL COLLECTED, he desperately tried to remind himself. Everything is FINE.

But that still didn’t answer the question: where the hell could you have gone off to?

It was one of the first big matches that Daichi ever invited you too and the crowds were 10x bigger than anything you’ve been to. Daichi’s whole body trembled with the idea that you were completely lost and waiting for him to find you.

“I’m sure she’s alright, Daichi! Y/N’s probably just exploring,” Asahi clapped a hand onto his friend’s shoulder, though Daichi could tell he was nervous too.

“Stop being such worry-bums,” Suga insisted, smacking both of their arms. “Y/N can be as scary as the rest of us! No one would pick on her!”

You were fully capable of dealing with things yourself, Daichi knew this. But he felt a surge of protective energy anytime he felt you needed him. “I’ll be right back,” he mumbled to his friends, his feet quickly running around the gyms to try and catch a glimpse of you.

“Daichi!” Your voice made his eyes widen, darting around to try to find you. Suddenly, he was attacked with a full on jump hug, staggering backwards to keep them upright.

“Y-Y/N! Where’ve you been?” Daichi asked with a laugh, holding you tightly and trying to avoid showing you how nervous he was.

“Coach Ukai told me Hinata left his shoes in the bus so I went to grab it before the game! Shimizu-san and Yachi were both busy so I wanted to help!” You explained, smiling up at him while holding the little bag up for him to see. Your eyes flickered over Daichi’s for a moment, noting the slight blush on his cheeks and the way he couldn’t fully meet your gaze. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle, your lips turning into a little smirk, “Were you worried about me, Daichi?” You teased and laughed as his face turned even more red.

“Well I can’t win without my lucky charm on the stands,” he chuckled, ruffling your hair.

“Oh and I just thought you liked me,” Y/N shot back with a laugh. “Didn’t know it was just cause of your game.”

You turned on your heel, starting to walk back to the gym, Daichi following while stammering out a, “I-I do liked you!” He tried to laugh off his nerves, rubbing the back of his neck as he gave you a smile, “Don’t make me all nervous before a game, love!”

You two shared some more laughs as everyone warmed up, and just before you headed to the stands, you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Daichi tried to play it off cool but he was wobbly the whole walk towards the team and the group of boys just laughed, all slapping his back in pride. 

Unlike the Cap’n, Asahi is not calm, cool, or collected. I mean I think he’s cool but not in this sense LOL.

Asahi and you decided to have a picnic for lunch in a nearby park. But while he was setting up, you magically disappeared and Asahi felt all of his panic just intensify.

Did you? Leave him? To be on his own? Was this your way of breaking up with him?

No, Asahi tried to convince himself, you loved him. You guys had been together for almost a year now, that’s not how you’d end thins... is it?

Maybe you got lost? Did Asahi walk a little too fast to this spot? He knew sometimes you had a hard time keeping up with his long legs but he thought you had been holding his hand this whole time.

His eyes scanned the somewhat busy park. He couldn’t find you anywhere. His heart was starting to beat way too fast and his fingers were shaking while he tried to text the other third years to ask what the hell he should do.

Suga: LOL knowing Y/N she probably saw some cute chipmunk or something and stopped to take a photo of it

Daichi: don’t worry, Asahi, she’ll probably find you soon - you’re this gigantic dude in a park. I doubt she’d lose you

That didn’t help. Now Asahi was noticing how parents and kids were specifically avoiding him. His bottom lip pouted as he wondered just what he could do to seem less intimidating. Should he sit down? No, what if you were trying to see him? Sitting would only make it harder!

Just as he was considering climbing up the nearby tree to see the park from a higher distance, you popped out from some nearby bushes, holding a few wildflowers.

“Asahi?” You blinked in surprise, finding him trying to find a foothold on the tree. “Are we... eating in the tree?”

“Y/N!” The poor boy almost knocked his head on the tree when he turned around to see you, eyes widening. He immediately ran over to you and twirled you around in a hug, “God, you scared me!” 

You quickly apologized profusely seeing how nervous he was, “I’m sorry, Asahi! I saw some pretty flowers over there and thought maybe it would be nice to decorate our tablecloth with!” You kiss his nose and cheeks over and over again trying to get him to calm down (but really that’s just making him more flustered).

The two of you share a gorgeous meal together, and you spend the rest of the day with his head in your lap and you braiding his hair, intertwining some of the flowers you found. The two of you talked about everything and anything and Asahi made sure from that day forward, he could always spot you. Any time you guys weren’t holding hands or standing next to each other, everyone noticed that Asahi’s eyes would dart over to you every now and then, whether consciously or unconsciously. 

When he got home that night, he pressed the flowers you put in his hair in a book and kept them as a keepsake. And then gave them to you in a gift for your anniversary later.

Kageyama would start feeling panic and wouldn’t even know why. The game was starting soon and something just didn’t feel right. His muscles? No… he felt in tiptop shape. He stretched a little extra today too to make sure he wasn’t feeling stiff. His stomach? No, he made sure to have some food and milk a little earlier. And he wasn’t feeling nauseous so it couldn’t be that. His hands? No, they felt perfect in fact. He was so excited for this game earlier, he had felt the anticipation running to his fingers to just set the perfect ball. So why was he feeling so uncomfortable?

His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to think about what was making him feel different. His eyes scanned the crowd unconsciously before realizing what it was.

You weren’t standing up there with the rest of the Karasuno fans.

Where the hell were you?

His feet moved towards the gym doors before Ukai yelled at him, “Where the hell do you think you’re going, Kageyama? The game is staring soon!”

Kageyama’s eyes widened, noting the whole team watching him curiously. Why did Kageyama seem so nervous? He never seemed nervous.

“Don’t worry, Kageyama, with my spikes better than ever, we’re definitely going to win!” Hinata grinned, trying to lighten the tense air in the team.

“I’m not worried, just don’t be stupid on the court,” Kageyama replied, shrugging it off. But his eyes still scanned the stands. Where were you? You had said hello to the whole and wished Kageyama luck just a few minutes ago? So how come you weren’t standing up there with Coach’s friends and Yachi?

The whistle blew to indicate the game starting and Kageyama felt his stomach turn. Why was he feeling like this? You were probably fine so what did it matter?

You had been buying some milk from the nearby vending machines to make sure that Kageyama had some after his game. You knew that he had accidentally finished all the ones he had packed earlier and had been kinda crabby about it so you thought maybe it would cheer him up. You had stood in line for the vending machine for what felt like forever but it was all worth it knowing that you could throw the milk boxes into your lunch bag to keep them cool. Knowing Kageyama would be excited about it made you really happy.

As you walked back towards the gym, you could hear cheering. Your eyes widened as you realized that the game had already started and you ran towards the stands.

“Y/N! There you are!” Yachi’s smile looked oddly nervous. Not that she wasn’t normally nervous at these games, but this one seemed different. “I think something’s wrong with Kageyama.”

Your eyes shot down to the court, seeing how stiff Kageyama looked next to everyone else. They were patting him on the back, yelling “We’ll get the next one!” and Noya screaming, “BRING IT ON!”

“He was looking for you in the stands earlier I think,” Yachi told you with a small giggle, “He looked really nervous when he couldn’t see you.”

Your heart swelled slightly, wondering if Kageyama was off his game because he hadn’t been able to see you. “Kageyama!!” You yelled from the stands, cupping your hands around your mouth. The dark haired boy’s head shot up to look at you, a sense of relief growing on his face. “You can do it!!” You screamed some more, the people on the stands behind you yelling in support.

Even from far away, you could see his lips turn upward in a smile.

Alright, you both thought to yourself. Now we can get started.

Falling - Gojo Satoru x Reader

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!!! MINORS DNI !!! 18+ content ahead

+ this kinda really flopped on ao3, so I’ll repost it here hehe. I wrote this a while back but i’m still super proud of it!! I hope you guys like it too <3

+ explicit sexual content, fem reader, porn w plot <3

+ too lazy to proofread- 

+ w.c : 8.2k

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The music blared, drowning you in what seemed like a never-ending playlist of pop music. Mass of sweaty bodies mingled on the dance floor, while you relaxed at the bar, sipping on your heavily alcoholic cocktail. Lights flashed alternating between different shades of fuchsia, blue, green, and violet to the beat of the song. Your face felt warm, feeling bubbly in the pit of your stomach, gaze darting toward your friends having a blast on the dance floor with strangers. You grinned, leaning your head in the palm of your hand, planning to go join them once you'd be done with your drink. Your black bodycon dress rilled up your thighs, exposing the sweet delicate skin of your slender legs, which, unbeknownst to you, had men's ogling you left and right. A specific group of 3 men's had their eyes on you by the entrance, snickering. Their gaze held something malicious, but you were too tipsy to take notice of that or even care. You got cut out of your little trance by your friends coming back to you, smelling of a mix of alcohol and perfume. "We'll be heading back now Y/N" "Aw really? I was about to join you" You fake pouted, not really minding as you'd just go binge watch some of your favorite shows at home instead. Taking your hands, their heavily drunk self dragged you outside, all beaming and laughing. A couple of men's followed suit, you paid it no mind knowing that your friends were most likely taking them home. You made them promise to call you, and share their location on their phones as they exited in their respective cabs kissing your cheeks goodbye, their partner for the night following. you wrapped your black fur coat around yourself tighter, taking your phone off to dial a cab for yourself. You felt stares drill a hole into your body, the coat tightly wrapped around yourself only highlighting your delicious curves. As you were composing the cab's phone number you got rudely interrupted by someone snatching your phone away. Yelping, it took you a second to realize what was going on, your drunkness still hitting you with full force. In front of you stood three men, the one in the middle holding your pink cellphone between his digits. Their faces were disgusting, looking at you like you were nothing but prey on their list. Eyes glossy most likely from their alcohol intake, they reeked of cheap cologne and sweats. "Leaving alone tonight sweetheart?" one purred in a sultry voice, you backed away crossing your arms over your chest defensively. The alcohol in your system gave you a confidence you never knew you possessed "Give me back my phone, now." The males snickered, as the middle one shook his head dropping it in his pockets. "Not with that attitude, anyways what're you going to do about it-" he paused, stepping forward, desperately trying to close the distance between you two. You gasped, taking another step back almost falling, your vision was blurry, your senses weakened. You mentally cursed for going so heavily on the drinking, feeling yourself wobble. A shiver racing up your spine, the sudden gust of wind hit you, not to mention the snowflakes falling on your face and bare legs. "Leave me alone!" You faltered, eyes darting for anyone that could be of help, but everyone seemed in a daze too engrossed with the muffled music, or busy making out with a stranger. "Hey honey, are those creeps bothering you?" The sweetest voice resonated throughout your ears, feeling your back lend against something warm. A hand snaked around your waist pulling you closer to their protective figure, making sure that you were stable. "H-Huh--" You stuttered, blinking in confusion, looking up at the person behind you. He was tall, really tall, with locks the same color as snowflakes, a bandana covering his eyes. He wore a jean jacket over a dark top, with beige pants. It didn't take you more than one glance to notice that he was really handsome. Your eyes lingered a bit on the bandana, wondering if he possibly was blind, before grasping a hold of the situation. "Y-Yes they are" playing your part, you snuggled closer into his chest, relishing in the warmth he provided. Your voice was low, glaring daggers at the men's, holding unto your savior for dear life. His digit slowly caressed your arm, until he interlocked fingers with yours, walking up to the guys. His aura was intimidating, leaning down to be at eye level with them. You gulped down, he must have been 6' tall at least or something. "Now then, I'd like to have my girlfriend's phone back now" He grinned, extending his free hand, palm open. The large hand holding yours gave a light squeeze, seeming to thank you for your cooperation. Suddenly, as the trio carefully analyzed who was standing in front of them, their faces paled, all color draining leaving them as white as your savior's locks. Tilting your head to the side, you couldn't help but wonder if he was somehow known around here. "W-Wait Is that-" "Uh- Yes it's-" The trio almost started shaking like leaves, quickly handing back the phone. It wasn't long until they were out of sight, running inside the club, mingling back into the crowd. You beamed, as he turned back to you, towering above your small frame handing you back your belonging. You thanked him, letting your gaze linger on his face. His nose and tip of his ears were slightly pinkish due to the snow falling, his lips rosy-tinted. You couldn't help but stare in a daze, still wondering if he was blind. Your eyes scanned his surroundings for any signs of a cane or something, but none to avail. Nonetheless, your tipsy brain concluded, without any proof, that the man indeed lacked sight. Taking your sweet time to scan his face and gorgeous locks, you couldn't help but blush, he really was extremely good looking there was no denying it. "You know, you're actually pretty cute staring at me like that." A grin plastered against his lips, he tilted his head to the side, chuckling. You yelped, covering your mouth with the back of your free hand. "W-Wait you're not blind-" If that was even possible, his grin widened, "Luckily for me I'm not" he paused, giving another squeeze to your interlocked hands, reminding you that you were still holding hand with a complete stranger you'd met a mere 5 minutes ago. You couldn't help but gasp again, sweet melodic sounds escaping your lips. His thumb rubbed soothing circles on your cold skin, leaning down, now at eye level with you, "You see, I'm glad I still have perfect vision to admire the sight in front of me right now" Your blush deepened, looking off to the side, trying to save your pride as much as you could. His words were swooning you way more than they should, was it the alcohol? or was it this mysterious aspect of him? But most importantly, how silly were you to even assume that he was blind after he just helped you, ugh curse your foolish little brain. You blamed it on his handsome features, must have gotten you distracted or something. "Smooth talker aren't you" you grimaced at him, cheeks reddish for being so fervently exposed to checking him out blatantly. You started to let go of his hand, even if you clearly didn't want to. Something about him entranced you, making you want to know more about him, even if he was just a mere stranger. "I was fine with holding hand, but if you insist" He teased in a sing-song voice, taking notice in the way you held your coat so closely to your frame. Shivers racked through your body, never imagining that you'd been waiting outside for so long, your outfit clearly not appropriate for this icy weather. "Here," You blinked, eyes glued to the man offering you his dark jean jacket. It was clearly oversized for you, yet you could smell his cologne and it enticed you to accept it. Snowflakes started falling on his broad shoulder, reflecting the light from the club's neon signs. "But, you'll be cold, '' you muttered, trying to put up a fight, knowing damn well you were freezing to the bones. "On the contrary, I'm pretty hot. Don't you think?" Your cheeks flared, it was as if he was reading your every thought. Huffing you wrapped the jacket around yourself, nuzzling your face into it trying to keep your face from freezing. "Do you want me to inflate your ego that badly?" "Well, you kinda already did considering how you were staring at me earlier sweetheart" He grinned, hand coming to shake off the snow from his hair. Your blush increased tenfold, his flirty behavior really getting to you. "Shut up I wasn't-" you retorted in a futile attempt to gain some dignity back, looking off to the side pouting. Leaning down, his scent swirled around you, face mere centimeters away from yours. You gulped, eyes scanning his delicate face: his lips seemed so soft, a thin coat of lips balm covering them, you wondered how it tasted. What was his favorite flavor, cherry? or maybe strawberry? "There you go again, ah so cute." He teased, proving himself right once again, his hot breath ghosting over your face smelling of mint and candy. Covering your cheeks with your hand, it felt like your face was on fire. "You talk too much" A chuckle escaped his parted lips, a fake pout now plastered on his handsome feature "Ah so mean to me" you couldn't hold back a giggle at the way he said it, hand coming to cover your mouth. The snowstorm went on, as you took your phone out of your pocket, unlocking it to look at the time. 1:15 a.m showed on the screen, your battery settling at a low 10%. Pursing on your lips, you didn't want this moment to end, completely enticed by this stranger but you had to call a cab before your phone died on you. Curse you for forgetting your charger as always. "You know, I'm a pretty good driver, I can drive you home if you'd like" His proposition took you aback, was this man really capable of reading your every thought? You couldn't possibly fathom what made this handsome stranger be so interested in you, your mind still a bit hazy from your previous drinks. Pursing on your lips, you definitely wanted to spend more time with him, yet feeling bad to make him become your personal driver before even knowing his name. "Are you're sure? I'd feel bad making you drive me home, plus I live quite far" you muttered sheepishly hands fondling with the hem of his jacket. "Anything for a pretty lady, and besides if you live too far-" He paused stepping closer, a hand coming to push back a strand of hair that the harsh winter breeze had pushed into your face, "It so happens that I live really close by" You stood there in shock, as this attractive stranger so blatantly exposed wanting to take you home. You gulped down, eyes scanning his face for any signs of it being mere teasing. Yet, he seemed honest, a grin still covering his face. "You really are a smooth talker" giggling, you nodded accepting his proposition fervently. Was it because of your semi-drunk state or the thoughts of what could possibly happen over at his house, you clearly had no intention of refusing his delightful offer. Everything about him made your core feel warm, yet you knew so little. Starting to walk toward his car, you stopped in astonishment at the sheer luxury of the vehicle. He beamed, opening your door for you, settling your purse into your lap sitting on the dark leather seat. You played with the strap of your bag, waiting for him to join you on the conductor side. As he sat, and closed his door his scent mingled with you, making the apple of your cheeks darken. "You're too damn adorable you know that?" You yelped, catching him gazing at you, putting his seatbelt on. "look who's talking-" You muttered to yourself unbeknownst that this man seemed to possess super hearing chuckling at your response. "Being called adorable is definitely a first, but I'll take it if it comes from you" His large veiny hand opened the vents, warm air now flooding inside the car, you sighed in delight. "Also sweetheart, I wouldn't want to bring a lady home before at least knowing her name" He paused, letting his head rest in the palm of his hand, "you know I do am a well-mannered man after all" He slyly said, head tilted to the side. His gorgeous ivory locks slightly damped considering the snowflakes that melted. Tongue darting out to lick your dried up lips from the cold, you blushed "L/N Y/N" "Ah L/N Y/N, sounds like music to my ear, I'm Gojo Satoru" ❄❄❄ Opening up the Bluetooth station he turned his head, most likely shooting you a glance under his bandana. "I hope you got any good music Y/N, you'll be our DJ for the ride" A grin formed on his lips as you started beaming. "Of course I do!" You retorted confidently, connecting to the Bluetooth at the speed of light. He hummed, starting the car, the scent of leather mingling with your own. As you put on your favorite song, he shouted "No way! You listen to Megan Thee Stallion? I knew there was something I liked about you sweetheart" Your heart thumped in your chest, feeling like it might burst out. His blatant honesty was striking you right in the heart. He really knew how to transform you into a blushing mess. "You got good taste too, She's really fire" your eyes twinkled, relinquishing in this feeling. Humming, Gojo turned to you, sticking his tongue out to you, "I know I got good taste Y/N, that's why you're coming back home with me after all" You swore you could saw him wink under his bandana, your blush increasing tenfold. You playfully, hit his arm, grimacing back at him, letting the music surround the both of you. As the chorus hit, Gojo was fully vibing, dancing to the sound. One hand on the wheel, he sang the rapping part perfectly, moving his upper body sensually to the beat of the song. His hair moved alongside him, chest huffing as he sang. You got entranced, eyes glued to him, seeing him drive with one hand, was somehow so sexy making your heart flutter. Starting to sing alongside him, he shot you a glance, grinning widely, the drive to his home way better than your whole clubbing experience so far. ❄❄❄ His apartment was extremely spacious, to say the least. The walls were covered in large windows, a spacious leather couch, and what seemed like at least a 60 inches television on the wall. The floor was a sublime chestnut wood, walls as snowy as his hair. A few plants adorned the corners of the apartment the whole thing reminding you of what you'd see in magazines or on the internet. You couldn't hold back your amazement, mouth forming an o shape, which made Gojo chuckle. Taking off his shoes, he proceeded to Drop the keys on the counter. He stretched, "Can I offer you something to drink?", face buried in his huge fridge, seeming to push bottles around from the sounds of it. You left both your coat and his jean jacket on a nearby chair, shoes neatly placed next to his, letting it dry up from the snowstorm outside, turning to him. Your dress hugged your curve to perfection, the small material barely covering what needed to be covered, stopping above mid-thighs. You wore a gold necklace, with gold hoops earrings your hair falling down your back, your collarbones full exposed. "Hmmm" You pondered, walking up to him, standing on your tiptoes trying to see something. Feeling your presence behind him, Gojo risked a glance in your direction, his smirk widening tenfold. "Are you trying to make me fall for you by looking like that darling? Because honestly, it's working 100 percent" pursing on his lips, his tongue darted out to wet them, your gaze instantly following suit. You felt your face erupt once again "H-Huh! It's not like that, I just wanted to dry up our coats" You stammered trying to defend yourself, arms flailing in front of you. He chuckled, gaze devouring you under the dark fabric that covered his eyes. Crossing your arms over your chest you grimaced at him, "Do you have white wine by any chance?" He nodded, "Of course my lady" moving the bottles around, deciding on one. Dropping it on the table he reached for one of the cupboards above his fridge, getting two glasses. You watched him in astonishment, a slight blush dusting your cheeks. He seemed to take notice in your endeavor as per usual, grinning "Something caught your eye sweetheart?" he remarked, pouring you a glass. You huffed, looking off to the side defensively, "You're just very attractive that's all..." You muttered the last part, which only seemed to inflate his never-ending ego. Cutting him off before he dared crack another flirty joke, you asked "How tall are you?" your curiosity was getting the best of you, as you sipped on the drink, the warmth of it enveloping you. He was so mysterious, the only thing you knew about him was his name, yet it was like you were craving for more. It wasn't like you to be that way, not usually caring what your partner for the night liked to drink, or what his favorite tv show was, but for the snowy-haired man in front of you, you'd actually memorize those facts in a heartbeat. He had you entranced, muddy in the palm of his hand. He leaned against the kitchen counter, leaning down, letting his head rest in the palm of his hand. "Thank you, you're pretty damn gorgeous yourself, and I'm around 6'3 I would say" He grinned being completely obvious to the fact that his height was a major turn on, bringing the drink to his lips. Your eyes followed his glass, gulping down. You scrunched your nose, a hand coming to twirl a piece of your hair. "Any other question darling?" He teased, taking his sweet time into savoring the intoxicating liquid. You knew damned well what you wanted to know, something you'd been wondering ever since you laid your gaze on him. "Yes actually, since you claim not being blind, what color are your eyes" You were getting bold, bolder than you'd usually be, the alcohol reigniting the fire inside you. If that was even possible, his smirk grew wider, head tilted to the side, "Oh, that's something I get asked a lot, so I'll give you 2/10 for the originality" He paused chuckling, taking another sip. You pouted stepping closer, your mind was running wild, what color could his beautiful irises be? Forest green? Ocean blue? or maybe coffee-colored ones? It was burning you on the inside, like an insatiable itch that you couldn't get rid of. "Does every girl ask you that?" You teased, feeling a slight pinch of jealousy scraping your heart. He laughed, instantly taking notice "ah you're too obvious, already getting jealous about my whereabouts aren't you?" Your face caught on fire at his words, your blush probably the color of the cherries on the kitchen counter by now. He twirled the glass in his hand, satisfied with the response he elicited from you before saying: "They do ask, but I rarely show anyone" He paused taking a sip, tongue licking up a droplet that was running down the glass. He had gotten strangely serious for the first time since your meeting, "But for you, I'd make an exception". You were taken aback, scanning his face for signs of it being a mere joke, but once again the man seemed utterly honest. You wondered if there was a specific reason as to why he hid his eyes, but you decided upon not asking now, it was rather too soon, and not of your business. He straightened himself, now towering above you. "On one condition, I'll let you do the honor of taking it off, deal?" He grinned coming back to his natural goofy self, seeming to take pleasure in your state. Your anticipation was killing you, feeling it in the pit of your stomach, nodding fervently ready to accept any condition if it meant seeing what was underneath that damned piece of fabric. As your hand reached for the material, standing on your tiptoes, the man caught your wrist giving it a slight squeeze. "Oh! but take a guess first" He stuck his tongue at you, as you visibly grumped, "You said one condition" You argued back, letting your heels fall back on the wooden floor, his long fingers still holding on to you. His hand was radiating warmth, making you miss your situation earlier when you were in his embrace. "hmm--" you pondered, taking a good look at his face. He would be handsome with any eye color really, yet you were taking so much fun into guessing it, trying to picture every possibility unto his face. Really wanting to win this little competition, you decided to go with what seemed like your safest bet. "I'll go with brown!" you beamed, feeling confident. That was until his grin widened, letting go of your hand. He waved his finger, seeming to wink under his bandana "We'll see about that '' You pursed your lips, feeling as if you had taken the wrong option, from his remark. Grasping a hold of the hem of his shirt you tugged on it slightly, "lean down a bit you're too tall" You complained, to which he obliged, literally going down on his knees. "Weren't you swooning over my height just a moment ago?" He teased, proceeding to imitate in a high pitched tone what was supposed to be your voice: "How tall are you?" Your embarrassment was out of bound, cheeks burning for being so blatantly exposed yet again, he really had no mercy in store for you. "Shut it- I have more important things to focus on right now" You retorted, earning a chuckle from him. He was right in front of you, a bit below eye level now, but you were finally able to take a good look at his angelic feature, which only made your heartbeat boosts tenfold. You had never met, or even seen, someone as good looking as him. What was his deal though? Taking such a liking to you, yes he did protect you from these creeps but now he was just fueling your fantasies and dreams even more. "Anytime now darling" He burst your bubble, bringing you back to reality, your hands darting toward the material. Sliding one finger underneath, you felt your hands shake a little. Was it because of all this built up anticipation, or was it because you were afraid that you'd actually fall even more for him when you'll see his full features? Slowly pulling it down, Gojo remained silent, smirking, probably planning something mischievous. As the material fell down, now hanging around his neck, you peered before almost shouting at the sight: his eyes were closed. "Oh my god- Open your eyes! You can't do this to me-" Midway into your childlike tantrum, laughter escaped his parted lips, eyes opening. The sight literally knocked the air out of your lungs, You stood there star-struck, your gaze melting into his. You couldn't believe your eyes, your mind refusing to process what was right in front of you. Beautiful sapphire irises looked back at you, adorned with full lashes as white as his hair. Was there something this guy didn't have?! Your mouth stayed slightly open, silence filling the apartment. Not only that, but also his hair had fallen down, now framing his delicate face so perfectly. Locks of snowy hair contrasting with his slightly tanned skin. He looked back at you, head tilting to the side before waving a hand in front of your face. "You still alive Y/N?" He teased, eyes twinkling, taking off the bandana fully and settling it on the counter. "Your eyes, they're gorgeous" you muttered, you wanted to say so much more but you were still processing how utterly beautiful that man was. It struck you right in the heart, as now, whenever his glance caught yours, you'd feel the apple of your cheeks heat up even more than before. "Thank you, I got quite the genes I admit." He cockily replied, taking a sip of wine, eyelashes fluttering. Your regard was glued to him, walking to the counter to get your glass, scooting closer to him in the process. You felt the need to compliment him more, was it because of the intoxicating alcohol now pulsating through your veins, you didn't know, but your mouth opened nonetheless: "Is that why you never show your eyes? You're afraid that girls will fall for you left and right?" You taunted grimacing, thinking you'd gotten back at him for being such a tease himself before it dawned on you that your big mouth had gotten you into quite the messy situation. Humming, Gojo leaned on the kitchen counter, his eyes flickering under the light, "So basically," He almost purred, running a hand through his ivory locks, "You just admitted falling for me. Did I hear you right, honey?" His face arbored the biggest grin you'd ever seen, knowing full well he had you under the spotlight right there, while his overly handsome self sipped on his drink. He was mere centimeters away, his scent completely intoxicating you. You cursed yourself for being so light-headed, your silly self not knowing to think twice before saying something. The alcohol had all subdued, not feeling any signs of being drunk or tipsy either, and yet you were still silly. Flashes from your earlier situation appeared in your mind, hoping you'd get to be in his embrace soon enough. Yet, you couldn't inflate his ego more than it was, his head would probably implode at this rate. As you were about to retort back, he shushed you placing a finger on your lips, "Shush, it's okay baby, I'm kinda falling for you too you know" He smirked, his digit caressing the smooth skin of your rosy lips. You were star struck, gaze melting into his, his touch lighting a fire within you. You had this growing urge to just please him, let him dominate you fully. The alcohol ignited lust, slowly opening your mouth, taking his digit inside your mouth. His eyes gleamed, now half-lidded, a low moan escaping his lips. Your tongue swirled and licked his long finger, feeling yourself get soaked at the thoughts of it inside you. His gaze never left the show in front of him, slowly coming to bit down on his lips. The mere sensation of your tongue against his digit made his length throb in his pants. You pulled away with a wet satisfying 'pop', gaze swirling with lust. His other hand came to grab your chin slightly, tilting it upward. The mere action made your core feel warm, already submitting entirely to him. He leaned down, bringing the finger that was previously in your mouth, into his. Never breaking eye contact with you, he hummed tasting yourself off his finger, before saying: "Don't get me wrong sweetheart, that indirect kiss was pretty hot, but I'd rather be doing this." And with that, he instantly crashed his lips on yours. You couldn't hold back a moan, all the built-up anticipation hitting you full force. His lip balm smelling of cherry, one of your hands came to rest on his shoulder feeling his muscles underneath the dark fabric. Damn, he was a good kisser, tongue swirling around yours, leaving nothing untouched. It was rare for you to feel yourself get soaked already from just a kiss, but this man seemed to possess supernatural powers or something. His thumb rubbed soothing patterns on your cheek, his tongue lapping at your lips eliciting yet another sinful moan from you. Taking this opportunity, Gojo slide his tongue into your mouth leaving nothing untouched. Towering above you, one of his hand slid down your back, resting on the back of your waist. Breaking away from the kiss, he panted, eyes twinkling. "May I gorgeous?" The hand resting on your waist gave a slight squeeze indicating what he meant. You blushed at his behavior, obviously agreeing. Large palms slide down the small of your back, fingers digging into your plump rear. The man almost let out a moan, eyelashes fluttering feeling your curves under his touch. His reaction only fueled your lust, even more, desire swirling into your irises locking gaze with him. A glance was all you needed to understand Gojo, as you jumped wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands instantly planted themselves on your ass supporting you, taking their time to feel you up, leaving nothing untouched. His touch was like fire, making you moan from its simplest movement, making a chuckle erupt from him. "Don't stop making those noises for me baby" He ordered, lips crashing back down on yours. You could only hum, your fingers tangled into his snowy white hair. Tugging on his locks slightly, the man groaned grinding his already fully erect cock on your panties. You gasped in the kiss, which the man didn't hesitate to take advantage of his tongue swirling in your mouth. Your dress had obviously rilled up, your bare ass now barely covered. As you deepened the kiss, saliva mixing with his, you felt him start walking toward the back of his apartment where you had noticed his room earlier. However, you were wrong to assume that he would have made it this far, no, not with how utterly hot you looked right now. Dropping your body on the couch, he nestled in between your legs. Encaging you between his arms, one of his large hands grasped both of your wrists pinning them up above your hand. He had such long fingers that both of your wrists seemed like merely nothing in his hands. Breaking the kiss for air, the man panted above you. His warm breath hitting the tip of your nose, his forehead leaning on yours. His eyes were half-lidded, looking at you with pure desire swirling in them. The clear Saphire blue you had seen earlier had subdued to a more animalistic hue, pupils almost blown out, leaving barely any of the ocean like color to be seen.

You stood there in awe, gaze melting into his. He seemed like the embodiment of absolute perfection, and at that moment you just wanted to please him. Struggling to free your wrists you raised your hips grinding them against his clothed cock, eliciting a moan from the man above you. "Let me touch you please" You begged, lashes fluttering as you repeated your movement again, feeling his member twitch within the confine of his pants. Gojo smirked, raising an eyebrow at your needy tone, "I can't possibly refuse if you ask that nicely sweetheart". He teased, his vice grip on your wrists disappearing, taking this opportunity you turned him around sitting snugly on his hips. You grinned mischievously making sure to sit exactly on his large cock, feeling it twitch once again. God, he was hard, and he seemed so big it made your core swirl at the thoughts of him railing the absolute shit out of you. Gojo crossed his arms behind his neck, taking his sweet time to look you up and down, his usual grin covering his feature. It subdued quickly when your hands swiftly unzipped his pants dragging them down, making sure to drag your finger across his entire length. pursing on his lips, the man let out a moan, adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "you're so big" You praised, not caring about inflating his ego. I mean, he deserved it right? That man was literally the most handsome guy you had ever come across, you just wanted to shower him with praises. He smirked, flashing you a wink "Oh? Am I really?" He teased in a sing-song voice playing coy. You only giggled, pulling down his black underwear, his cock colliding with his abdomen. Gojo hissed as the cold air hit his member, eyes half-lidded awaiting your next move with impatience. His dick was way beyond average both in length and girth. Tip rosy from being hard for so long, a bead of precum leaked slowly running down his entire length. You almost drooled at the sight, taking your sweet time to look at his cock, one finger coming to scoop the precum bringing it into your mouth. You moaned your tongue swirling and twirling around your digit, already intoxicated by his delicious taste. "Let me taste you again baby" he ordered his voice low, as he sat up. Taking his finger out of your mouth, you extended your arm forward, Gojo grabbing a hold of your wrist, tongue extending, licking the digit clean. He hummed lowly, eyes locked with yours as he did so. Pink muscle leaving no surface of his finger untouched, he moaned your name before leaning back down. "Suck me" You felt your heart rate spike up, your juice leaking from your core at the mere order from Gojo. You nodded, eyes dropping to his rock hard cock, hands settling on the base. Your tongue darted out, licking a clean stripe from the base to his engorged tip, mouth closing on it. You twirled your tongue a couple of times, feeling his large hands grab a hold of your hair. "That's my good girl" The mere words made you moan around his cock, the vibration only intensifying the pleasure for Gojo who threw his head back against the couch. Taking as much as you possibly could fit of his dick in your mouth, your hands moved around his shaft and balls desperately trying to bring him the utmost pleasure. It was working as groans and growls, escaped from Gojo's parted lips, half-lidded eyes never breaking away from you. "You look so good taking my cock like that baby-" He paused, hands massaging your scalp as if thanking you for the absolute best blow job he had, "but it's my turn now" and with that, he pulled you away from his cock, a thin string of saliva connecting you to his member. Leaning up he didn't hesitate a single second to capture your lips again into a kiss, a hand caressing your cheek guiding you back down under him. "You did amazing" He whispered, making you blush, "Thank y-" You squealed, feeling him drag you on the edge of the couch, your legs dangling off of it. “Now then, spread those pretty legs for me won't you?” He licked his lips, the cherry lips balm coating his velvety muscle. You couldn’t help but comply, long digits sliding across your soaked panties, index finger flicking where he knew exactly where your bundle of nerve was. He chuckled lowly, a thin coat of lust covering his sapphire irises. His fingers were already shiny with your essence, and he hadn’t even made direct contact with your core yet. “So wet for me already baby, did you enjoy sucking my cock that much?” He teased, knowing damned well the answer already. The silver-haired man hooked his fingers on the side of your panties, mouth almost watering at the sight of your glistening folds. You mewled, eyes glassy trying to push your core closer to him, eliciting yet another dark chuckle from him. “Needy little thing” his voice was coated with lust, azure eyes locking with yours. One of his long finger slowly parted your folds, collecting your glistening essence on his finger before plopping it in his mouth. He moaned, tasting you, “You taste even better than I’d imagined” “Stop teasing me” You managed to mutter between moans, a grin spreading on his face at your voice. Tilting his head to the side, his index finger twirled around your pearl never giving it the attention it oh so desired. “Beg for it” His voice was raspy, blowing hot air on your clit before flashing you a wink. Your cheeks, well your whole being, felt on fire. “Please eat me out-” You whimpered out, hoping it was enough to satisfy him. Your mind was into a frenzy, thoughts and sentences jumbling into one another, unable to form cohesive sentences. Chuckling, he pressed a soft kiss to your inner right thigh, “Tell me if i’m wrong but, a good girl like you can do better, right?” You threw your head back against his satin pillow, he really was playing hard to get. “ God Gojo please- just make me cum over your tongue already, I need you so badly!” You screamed out in frustration, fists clenching. At that point you didn’t care about anything but to feel his warm tongue on you, tasting your juices Cock twitching at your words, the sorcerer felt his own self restraint slowly crumble to pieces. He just wanted to take you right there, right now, to dick you down until you couldn’t walk anymore. He wanted to break you. You couldn't hold back the moan as you felt his breath hover right above your clit, “So obedient” he praised, before his tongue darted out licking a clean strip, before latching unto your bundle of nerves. Your reaction was instant, head thrown back as a fountain of moans of his name echoed within the room. Gojo felt his self restraint crumble to pieces, every pores in his body aching for him to bend you into a mating press and drill ino your pretty pussy. Yet, at the same time, the way your juices leaked around his mouth drove him to the brinks of insanity. Sapphire gaze darting back and forth between your glistening folds and your flushed face, he soon felt himself grind his aching cock against the side of the bed, desperately seeking friction. Your hands soon found themselves tangled into his ivory locks, only pressing him closer and closer to your soaked core. “G-Gojo” You cooed, feeling your release build up incredibly fast. Damn he was good, there was no denying it. The way he softened his tongue just enough to roll and lap at your clit, while his large hands spread your thighs, nails digging into your plush skin. The man was eating you out as if it was his last meal. “Yes my darling?” He purred, not breaking the contact with your pussy, hot air from his words only pushing you closer to the edge, the pet name not helping either. Noticing the way your cunt quivered at his word, the sorcerer raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Oh? Are pet names your weakness, my love?” He asked, even as he already knew the answer. His melodic voice would have been enough alone to push you into bliss, but right before you could cum, thighs shaking and hips stuttering, he pulled away. His keen eyes knew, right away the signs of your oh so awaited orgasm, only to deny it so sweetly. Your eyebrows furrowed, and before you could even retort about your stolen orgasm, the man was pinning you down, lips crashing unto yours. “God- you drive me crazy you know.” His sweet words made you swoon, however you tried as best as possible to keep reminding yourself that the man probably had partners left and right. I mean, with his look and absolute perfect personality? Who wouldn’t want him? You had to keep yourself grounded, or at least try to. One of his hand coming to stroke the side of your cheek brought you back to reality, as his forehead laid on yours. His cerulean eyes gazing into yours, before you felt the tip of his cock align with your drenched cunt. “Is this okay?” He murmured, holding himself up with one hand which only accentuated his biceps. You couldn’t help but nodd, of course you wanted him to rearrange your insides, to mold you into his cock. “I need to hear it dear” He pressed a kiss on your forehead, head tilted to the side, surprisingly patiently awaiting your response. Leaning up slightly, you captures his lips in yet another kiss before sliding your hand between your bodies and grasping his cock. “Fuck me before I do it myself” Gojo’s eyebrow raised, before he chuckled darkly. Taking a hold of your wrist he pinned them both above your head, one large hand way more than enough to hold them tightly into places. “Can’t leave you unsatisfied now, can I” and with that he pushed his length into you. You swore you could feel the tip of his cock hit your cervix, molding your insides to his dick. The stretch was slightly painful, but oh dear god it felt amazing. Hips now flush against yours, he leaned back slightly discarding his shirt, throwing it on the floor somewhere. His kin glistened with a thin layer of sweat, muscles defined and flexing under the pleasure he was currently under. Noticing your lingering gaze his hand grasped your knees throwing them over his shoulder. You yelped, before he pressed a kiss against your ankle. “Look at me baby” He purred before drilling into your core. Your mewled and gasped, hands desperately seeking to hold unto dear life. His cock quite literally rearrnged your insides, Gojo looking down at your through his ivory lashes, lips stuck between his teeth. He was slightly silent asides from some pants and grunts here and there, as he wished to hear every little sound you made. Nails digging into your thighs, he let out a low groan as his pace never faltered, gaze darting between your pussy eagerly sucking him up and your fucked out face. “You’re taking me so well” He purred, before his hips came to meet yours at a rougher pace, almost sending you flying into the headboard if it wasnt for his hold unto your thighs. “So good to me-” His voice broke as he let out another groan. Your mewls and moans only spurred him on, before a trembling hand reached toward his face. “K-Kiss me-” You managed to mumble between incoherent babbles as he fucked your brain out. Gojo smirked, before gently dropping your knees and leaning down eagerly sealing your lips into yet another kiss. “Dont go and fall for me now-” He whispered between choked out groans, a sly smirk plastered on his features. As your hands tangled themselves into his locks he bit down on his lips, gaze lingering on your face. The way your cheeks burned and glossy eyes stared back at him, Gojo couldn’t help but latch his lips unto the soft skin of your neck earning a yelp from you. His cocky personality had subdued, leaving a rather soft persona underneath. Hips stuttering, he felt yourself clench tighter around him only signalling that you’d soon back into pure bliss. There was no way that he’d ever finish before you, prioritizing the needs of his partners way before his own. A string of moans fell from your lips as his bit down and sucked on a particularly sensitive spot on your neck. Feeling him smirk against your skin, he lapped at the spot teasingly “You’re gonna cum on my cock baby?” He cooed, blowing hot air, pace never faltering in the slightest. You could only manage a weak nodd, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from the sheer pleasure cursing through your veins. A loud moan of his name fell from your lips as you felt yourself unravel on his dick. Gojo groaned feeling you spasm around his cock, draging himself into the bliss as well. Leaning down he kissed you, encaging you between his arms as he rutted into your oversensitive pussy, hot milky cum tainting your walls white. “Fuck-” He cursed, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his, dick twitchnig into the depths of your cunt. It wasnt long until he let himself fall on top of you burying his head into the crook of your neck. Not even bothering to take his cock out, Gojo pressed feather like kisses all over your now hickey covered skin, eliciting a small giggle from you. “That was amazing” You purred, one hand running up and down his bare back. It was rare for the man to be so relaxed after such encounter, not that he’d usually ask his partner to seek themselves out of his house but, this time it felt different. “Thank you, thank you” Came his smug reply, before he lifted his face cerulean eyes locking with yours. Taking his dick out from inside your cum soaked core, He grinned, before rolling you over so you were now laying by his side, head resting on top of his chest. Your heart was hammering against your chest, as if clarity was hitting you full force. Here you were, snuggling with this handsome man you had met earlier, and yet you felt like you’ve known him forever. “Ah- what a bad host I am. Let me clean you up” Gojo suddenly exclaimed, before making his way to the bathroom to fetch a warm wet cloth for you. After cleaning himself up quickly, but effectively he was back into the room with a glass of water and the cloth. You blushed before telling him you could clean yourself to which he agreed, handing you the water. “Do you need a spare of clothe?” He questioned now rummaging through his drawers. The question took you aback, blinking as you stared at him in silence for a few moment. You weren’t expecting to spend the night at his place, not that you were complaining, but it felt too good to be true, really like fate had somehow brought the two of you together. “Did I fuck you too good that you forgot how to speak lovely?” His voice brought you back to reality as he smugly grinned at you, leaning on the drawer. He looked absolutely ethereal, messy locks framing his pale face and body sculpted by the gods themselves. “Shut it-” “I’ll take that as a yes” He cooed, before throwing you a large black shirt. You grasped it mid-air, giggling, as he eyed you with a smile. That was until you spoke up, putting the shirt on, “Is it really okay for me to stay here tonight?” You couldnt help but voice your thoughts before earning a chuckled from the sorcerer himself. “Well I dont mind driving you back home if this makes you uncomfortable.” He paused, sounding serious for once, glancing at his car keys situated on the small wooden table by his bed. “But, we’re not done for the night, aren’t we?” He flashed you a wink, earning a blush from you. His cocky self seemed to back in full throttle. Seeing your reddened face he couldnt help but laugh, putting on a pair of looser grey sweatpants as he spoke “Besides as much as I loved hearing your beautiful moans of my name Id also like for us to share actual conversations-” Throwing a pillow at him, his hand came to arrest it before it hit his face. Seeing your embarrassed look, he broke into laughter, throwing himself back on the bed besides you. “Dont say such embarrassing thing” You poked his side in a teasing manner feeling satisfied with his answer. Gojo grinned letting his head rest in your laps, looking up at you with doe eyes. The night’s soft breeze twirled into the room, your hand caressing Gojo’s hair, twirling a piece between your pointer and middle finger. The neon alarm clock showed in flashy red numbers: 5:06 am. You merely chuckled under your breath, feeling as if this night had been one hell of a rollercoaster. Gojo silently stared at you, feeling relaxed as you played with his hair. “Tired?” He questioned, taking your hand before pressing a soft kiss on your palm, earning yet another blush from you. “Not really” He hummed, kind of amusing you how his cocky persona had subdued into this calmer one. Gojo’s chest rose and fell slowly, as the rhythm of his breathing relaxed, feeling comfortable in your embrace. Still holding unto your hand, he gave it a light squeeze, gaining back your attention “So, since it's already morning” He paused, throwing a glance toward the alarm clock,” Wanna order some food and talk the night away my sweet Y/N?”

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Postcards From: Kanazawa | Tsukishima Kei

Synopsis: The fear that comes with love is the realization that it isn't always just light. Love, rediscovered as both the fear and the drive that depicts the push and pull of whether it's worth it to say "I do," if the unknown is what's to come beyond the vow. In which it's a week until the wedding, and the both of you return to Kanazawa--to day one--as strangers.

Characters: Tsukishima Kei

Genre/Tags: Engagement!AU, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with Happy Ending | WC: 10,200+

A/N: this is a piece commed by @tsukishumai​ ;w; tq for trusting me w u and ur bb boi ily to the moon n back

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commissions | ko-fi

The illusion of the soul is the false belief that love must always—always—be just light.

The truth is, it’s not. Love is many things. Primarily, love begins from desire. Then, that desire seeps into a drive that pushes you to keep wanting. Then finally, when it’s seeped in through the skin deep enough, love pools in the soul.

Love is bound to be raw at the very core. A desire. To say, “I want you,” and think it holds as much credibility as “I love you.”  To look at what you know is only the tendrils of something at the very most, and trick yourself into thinking that it’s enough. A beating heart—bloody red. The line just barely hanging in-between what’s selfish and selfless, before it ultimately sways and becomes selfish sometimes.

Sometimes, being right now, Tsukishima thinks.  

Sandwiched in-between you to the left, and Yamaguchi to his right, he finds his eyes flickering towards the clock a lot more often than he would have liked. Akaashi, who sat across from his seat on the table, was the first to catch on.  

He quirked a brow, presumably in question earlier, and mouthed the question if he was in a rush. Tsukishima’s never been known for having too many words, but because Akaashi pauses and insists to relieve his question with an answer, he shrugs, waving him off and mouthing back that he’s alright.  

“So,” Bokuto starts, his voice already slipping into somewhat of a slur. “How’s it feel to be the first to pop the question?”

You laugh, finding amusement in the man’s enthusiasm. Turning to Tsukishima, you sit and wait, expectant of a reaction.  

In response, he just shrugs, but a smile breaks through and redefines the nonchalance of his expression anyway. Raising the glass to his lips, he takes a quick sip before answering smugly, “It’s nice to finally settle down. You should try it sometimes.”

Bokuto waves him off, cheeks flushed and eyes already drooping from the inebriation. “Nah,” he slurs, shaking his head. The exaggeration warrants a quick laugh from Sugawara, who sits on the other side, nursing his own drink. Continuing, Bokuto huffs and takes a slight pause before he connects the last of what he says with, “—getting married is nice and all, but I don’t know, man,” he laughs. “Just feels like I’ll end up hitting a fucking blank space after I do or whatever. Not my vibe.”

Visibly, Tsukishima shifts a little, the smile on his face maintained but the lighthearted energy that earlier fueled it just slightly more drained now.  

From the corner of your eye, you notice it. Though, Akaashi’s the one who gives him a pointed stare, to which the former simply ignores.  

“But—“ Bokuto continues, as if trying to remedy the cracked part of the atmosphere that isn’t even visible in the first place—“If that’s your thing, then I’m obviously not going to judge you for that.”

Tsukishima responds by his silence. Bokuto, with his head still warped around the heavy state of his inebriation, doesn’t do so much other than sip a little more of his barely filled glass of beer, Tsukishima’s apathetic expression just a blur in his eyes now.  

“You seem happy, though,” Bokuto notes, then raises his glass towards you.

Blinking at being the sudden subject of his interest, you raise your own glass of water. The ice inside shifts, clinking against the sides of the glass, and slowly, Tsukishima watches. There’s familiarity in the way it moves down: trickling slow like the patience inside him that’s suddenly running by the clock. His palms just barely gripping the utensils, clammy. While his head, still whirs at Bokuto’s halfhearted words.  

It’s halfhearted, he reminds himself.

The thought of hitting a plateau after “I do,” in a way is terrifying.  

But he is happy, right?

The way his palms respond solely through tensing suddenly spikes the fear that maybe his ring will slip. So he looks at you, trying to find an anchor to keep the love he pushes to stay intertwined with his truth afloat as he responds, “Of course I am. I’m happy.”

You look back at him, eye to eye, though you find something waver just for a split second— wondering if there’s credibility in the saying that gold will always deliver truth.

-

The rest of the night flows easy.  

Almost naturally, he’s quick to wave off Bokuto’s invite for more drinks at the bar just down the street, tugging your interlaced hands towards the parking lot as soon as the group found its way to the exit.  

“You know he probably just wanted more company,” you laugh. Thirty minutes after making it back home, instead of jumping straight into the shower and getting ready for the night routine, you instead take out the suitcase and take your place, seated on the floor in the living room.  

“We needed to pack,” you hear him respond, his voice a little distant from the bedroom down the hall.  

You shrug. “Yeah, but we could have made time.”

“Sometimes we can’t just make things, if we don’t have any to make it with in the first place,” he sighs.

You chuckle. Perhaps it’s just one of those nights again. In the ten years you’ve known Tsukishima Kei, you found that he had a tendency to become a multitude of things.  

A stranger, at the start, because that’s where every connection begins. The neighbor who lived with his grandfather across the street from your childhood home. Kanazawa was a long way from Sendai, but before his parents had whisked him off to Miyagi some years later, he had been the friend that oftentimes spent his afternoons with you.  

Strawberry cake and tiny sips of boxed juice from the convenient store down the street, and not much conversation exchanged between the both of you. He’d tell you about the things on his grandfather’s old encyclopedia, and you’d listen with rapt attention, finding it nice how he seemed to carry a little bit of the stars the more his eyes gleamed. He just talked about dinosaurs, you remember. At ten, Tsukishima had always been a wonderer.  

Then he moved.  

From the friend who told you stories and shared his juice boxes with you under that tree, to the occasional email that would pop up on your phone, when you were in highschool and weaving your way in and out of pathways and dead-ends. Miyagi was a little like Kanazawa, he said. There was a lot of quiet in the two cities. His email would come once a week, then twice when you reckon he felt a little lonely.  

You’d reply with the same kind of enthusiasm as he had established, though you still couldn’t deny the fact that the notification with his name on it never failed to have you smiling—at least just a little bit. At fifteen, Tsukishima was far from a stranger, but he was also falling just a little short in making it to the halfway mark of being a friend too.  

The once-a-week emails were welcome, none the less. It stayed like that, until once a week turned into twice. Though most were just the customary how-are-yous and obligatory holiday greetings once the seasons came and went, one year it turned into emails about the little nothings.  

‘I had strawberry cake today,’ it once read. ‘The one we used to share tasted sweeter.’

‘I joined the volleyball team.’

‘Winter here is a little colder. I remember your puffy green jacket.’

‘I don’t know if you want to know…or if I should tell you...but our team won, and we’re going to nationals.’

Somehow, you were managed to be convinced by one of your friends that same week to travel with your own highschool’s volleyball team to assist in the preparation for nationals in Tokyo. It was just a coincidence, you used to reason. You were there, and so was he. There was a hundred other courts his team could have played at, and your priority was assisting your own team in what they needed.  

But still, you couldn’t help but wave back and cheer the loudest from your stands when he perfected the block and scored the winning point for the first set.

It was then, where you realized that perhaps Tsukishima Kei wouldn’t just be a stranger.  

Kanazawa to Miyagi, but somehow Tokyo became the in-between. Childhood friends to the sort-of friends from the other ends of the country sharing a few scattered memories in slices of strawberry shortcake and random dinosaur trivia from an old man’s outdated encyclopedia.  

He was the first to approach you after that match. A hand held out to shake, perhaps to commemorate the evident shift between strangers to friends—but it was nice.  

Because after that, friends turned into something more.  

Maybe Tokyo really was the middle ground. After you graduated and moved out of your respective cities, Tokyo became the third place of hello.  

Then things just slipped into place. He was here, and so were you. He had plans to stay, and you just signed the contract that bound you to the city for the next two and a half years. The apartment right down the hall from yours was recently vacated, and he was looking for a place to stay.  

His new work place, coincidentally enough, was just a stop away from the train station closest to your place.  

You had always doubted the presence of serendipity and everything that had to dictate with the celestial control of fate, but the ease that came with the relief of him signing the lease the very next week almost seemed to validate what had been just a farfetched something.  

From strangers, to friends, to lovers, then to this:

Ten years later, a ring on your finger, and an I do, bound to be said just a little over seven days from now.  

Tokyo was kind to the both of you. His mother’s close enough to visit on the weekends, while Kanazawa was just a shinkansen away from Tokyo station. A new apartment with enough space for two, plus maybe an extra, and a bakery right down the street with the best strawberry shortcake made fresh every day.  

The wedding’s just a week away. His grandfather, still living in Kanazawa was meant to travel with Akiteru to Tokyo last week, but because plans changed, the both of you were instead tasked with going there yourselves to travel with him. While Tsukishima hesitated, you didn’t. Yes was easy to say in a situation like this. Though your parents had moved to Tokyo some years ago, you were aware that his grandfather didn’t.  

The house across the street was still his, while the one you grew up in just now became a summer home your family would frequent to when Tokyo became too swarmed with tourists.  

You look at the half-filled contents of the suit case on the floor in front of you. The right side’s meant to hold your clothes, while the left was left bare for Tsukishima’s. You turn and look at him.  

“You can just grab the stuff you need me to bring for you and I’ll fold it in. We should probably catch the first train tomorrow if we wanna get there before sundown.”

What comes as a reply is only prolonged silence.  

You let what he started stay for a little, but because you had never been the type to be fond in gouging out answers from the blank spaces, you sigh, and break the impending silence before it could get a chance to even settle. “You’re quiet again, Kei.”

When he makes it to the living room, instead of coming back out with a stack of clothes, he stands by the wall with his hands in his pocket. His eyes shift from wall to wall, but skip over you.  

Knowing that you’ll just prompt another conversation again the more he keeps his silence, he sighs, swallowing the hesitation and clinging onto the bits of courage that floats by him in the moment. Grasping at the very tips of it, he forces the words out of his mouth. “Are you really coming with me?”

You raise a brow. “Back to Kanazawa? Of course. I’m from there too, you know. Plus I haven’t seen Grandpa in a while.”

He shifts his gaze to the side, thankful for the blur that came with forgetting to slip on his glasses. He’s always had a tendency to give in the moment he looks at you, so the vagueness in the blur was a welcome change. “It’s just for a week,” he mutters. “I think I’ll handle the trip just fine.”

“Plus,” he adds, the hike in the tone of his voice giving away his panic. “—I heard there was a problem with the florists? Maybe one of us needs to go in and fix it ourselves just in case.”  

In the ten years you’ve known him, you’ve always considered it a given that you’ve well perceived him by now. In front of you, he’s stammering. While Tsukishima has never been the face to poise and perfection—because at the end of the day he still is just a boy—you knew he only stammered when he was nervous.  

Perhaps trying to manipulate the situation through a wordless exchange was his way of doing so. In your head, you chuckle. Tsukishima Kei is many things, and is witty when it counts—but he could never be blunt when it came to the things he was unsure of.  

You try to gouge out his truth. Speaking straight to the point, you let him know that there’s no purpose in trying to skirt around. You turn to him, his sweater half folded on your lap. “You know I could have believed what you just said, but,” you pause, giving him a pointed look, “—you’re not even looking at me.”

“Is this about what Bokuto said earlier?”

The way he shifts his weight from one foot to the other awkwardly, confirms your suspicions that that it is about that, before he can muster up the courage to even say it. “Tell me,” you initiate. You’ve never been afraid to speak what needs to be said. “What’s got you so afraid?”

Once more, he hopes for the silence to speak for him. And like before—it doesn’t. Silence was never meant to fill in the blanks. What it did, rather, is add three seconds more on the clock that’s ticking regardless. Tsukishima bets on a timed clock to speak for him, and because you’ve never been the type to shrink at the presence of raw truth, you huff and poke into what obviously hits for him just a little deeper.  

“You’re afraid we’ll hit a blank space after we get married, aren’t you?”

He doesn’t look away, but little by little, his body language starts slipping bits and pieces of the truth you’ve already long sensed. “I think I just need to think this through.”

“What?” you scoff. “You planned to go to Kanazawa by yourself for a week to what? Soul search? To decide if you even wanna marry me?”

“I’m sor—“

“That’s what you’re not supposed to say,” you interrupt him. “You don’t say you’re sorry for how you’re feeling, because you’re allowed to feel it how it is, but shit, Kei,” you exhale, pausing to suck in a quick breath. “You couldn’t have just said this earlier?”

He looks away again, the guilt evident on his features. “You’re mad.”

“Do you blame me?”

This time, he turns to you. “No,” he murmurs. “I don’t, but I’m gonna be blunt here—“

“—first time—“

He gives you a pointed look, but in the moment, you don’t really have much in you to care too much.  

“I think I need space to clear my head.”

“Sounds like you’re contemplating on whether you wanna stay with me or not,” you respond. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that.”

Tsukishima’s steady, this time. “Of course I wanna stay with you.”

“But,” you counter. “You aren’t sure if you want to marry me.”

He looks away. “What if—we hit a plateau after.”

“That’s still not an excuse to back out before we even try, Kei,” comes your reasoning.  

“You’re right,” he sighs. “It’s not.”

Then it’s you, who shrugs this time, giving in a little and throwing him what you hope he doesn’t see as a lifeline. There’s no comfort found in knowing that an out is a means of mercy when it comes to love. Why should there even be an out?

You settle for just cracking the door open instead. Though it was never locked, the fact that it remained close must have been understood differently by him.

“Let’s go back to Kanazawa separately, then,” you propose. The open suitcase in front of you still has the right half filled with his half folded clothes, so you reach in, taking it out one by one. “You stay with your grandfather and I’ll stay at my parent’s house.”

Tsukishima raises a concern. “He’ll wonder why we aren’t staying together.”

In response, you shrug. “Just make something up then.”

“Is this just a passive aggressive way to say you’re mad at me?”

You scoff. “When have I ever been passive aggressive, Kei? I’ve said shit as it is since day one.”  

He flinches, maybe because of what you said or the tone of the deliverance, but either way, you decide you can’t give much of a shit. It’s a given that you’re angry, but because being hurt just paves the path to silence more than lashing out, it’s not much of a surprise that you probably look deflated in front of him.  

“What I’m saying is,” you explain. “Let’s go back to Kanazawa as strangers. Do what you gotta do, however you’ve gotta do it to get your head sorted out, and then we’ll talk. I’m not dancing around in circles with you on this. Either we get married next week, or we don’t.”

He panics. “I don’t want to lose you—“

“You’re already talking like you’ve decided that you won’t be at the other end of that aisle, Kei.”

Words feel lacking all of a sudden, so you pause. The absence of the split second brevity has Tsukishima standing still, his breath held, throat dry.

But like always, clarity seems to weave its way through the cracks in the room and find you first. “Yes or no isn’t easy to decide between,” you finally mutter. Eyes to the half folded sweaters you meant to tuck into the other half of the suitcase, you realize that you’ll need to switch to a smaller trolley now because you won’t be needing this much space anyway. “I don’t know what I should tell you, because I don’t know that we’d be having a possible fallout a week before the wedding. But at the same time—I don’t want to say you’re despicable for feeling like that, Kei. It just—“

“—fucking sucks,” you sigh.  

“If you feel like you need a week to figure whatever this shit is, then okay,” you nod. “Okay. Let’s be strangers for a week and by the time we’re back in Tokyo, you give me a yes or no and be fucking blunt with it.”

-

Later that night when you turn your back against him and face the wall, his whisper breaks through the quiet. “Why are you still patient with me about this? You could have just left me.”

You shift, laying on your back and sighing to the makeshift glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling of your room. “Because I love you,” you sigh. “Loving someone just means you have to exhaust every other option before even thinking of throwing in the towel.”

He sleeps that night, feeling heavy.

-

He woke up later that morning, feeling the same too.  

In a sense, things admittedly started weird. You woke up before he did this time, when he usually would be the one trying to be quiet when he slipped out of bed. Even though early mornings had never been a thing for the both of you, there was still something unpleasant in waking up to an empty bed.

The sheets on your side were done, and your phone that usually would be pinging with email notifications by now wasn’t there.  

It’s odd, he thinks. While he agreed to be strangers for a week, the walk to the train station was the same. Silence was normal, but the five extra inches that added to the distance between the both of you wasn’t. You nodded his way when he pointed at the shinkansen’s direction, and wordlessly would hand him his usual brew when you stopped at the coffee shop just before going in.  

Seated beside you in the train, he tries to ignore the urge to poke you on the side and make conversation. Words have always come easy when it came to moments with you, he noticed.

Tsukishima’s aware that he’s always been dubbed as the kind of person who never preferred to say too much, and while that was true—to an extent—he realizes that there is some truth to the saying that silence kills.  

You’re seated beside him on the train, eyes to your phone, and earbuds in place. He resorts to just staring at you through his peripherals, caught in between wanting to satiate the want to talk to you by breaking the silence, or keeping it as is.  

This is where fear grips him a little tighter. The deal was, as you had pointed out just last night, that the both of you would move through the week pretending to be strangers again. You’d stay on your side of the street, while he stayed in his.  

It’s a given that his grandfather’s bound to ask about you, and so in the event that it does happen, you would just spend a few hours with them and pretend like everything was fine.  

You made it clear that you’d try to exhaust all the options before resorting to that, though. And it’s easy, he thinks, doing so. It doesn’t take much to fake a phone call from work or a last minute meeting with an old friend that wouldn’t be able to make it to the city for the supposed wedding.  

The lines were drawn, and the outline of what was to be expected in the next week was made clear.  

He thinks of what you said before you slept. Love, as that one drive that has you exhausting all your options before even thinking of quitting. It’s fair, he thinks. You’ve always been the rational thinker in the relationship.  

But then again, he doesn’t doubt your hurt either. A week was lengthy, he realizes, and to act as strangers again just a week before the wedding was a different kind of test when it came to your patience.  

Still, he owes you truth.

You’ve always told him to lay things bare, and even though what’s bare is ugly, because love always pushes to try—he stays, doing just that.  

Undoubtedly, this is a jump. There’s no question in the fact that the possibility of reaching the peak and coming face to face with a plateau scares him. But still, his thoughts counter, to face a drop that doesn’t guarantee a landing somehow terrifies him even more.

The sound of your phone vibrating snaps him out of his thoughts. Before you answer it, he snags a look of the name written on the screen—Akiteru’s.  

Tsukishima sighs, shooting you a cautious stare as you pick up the phone and turn to him.  

The tone of your voice is easy, though you look at him, unbothered. “Hey,” you answer. “Just got in the train, so Kei should be calling you in about three hours when we’re there.”

In comes a pause, before you chuckle a little. Unconsciously, Tsukishima scooches in, curious. But before he could get a chance to lean in too close, you pull away a little, looking at him curiously, an eyebrow raised. “I meant to tell you,” he hears you say, and as you look at him, he chooses to hold your stare.

“Kei and I will be staying separately for the week.”

Beside you, he shifts, fighting the urge to turn away and face forward.  

Assuming that your flinch afterwards was only a response to what he’s only certain is Akiteru’s sudden outburst, the prior nervousness of his stare shifts into concern. Understanding the are-you-okay that he mouths, you wave him off. “We’re fine,” you laugh. “I just miss staying at the house that’s all, and I’m pretty sure Kei wants to spend quality time with his grandfather.”

You stay silent after that, which truth be told, doesn’t exactly help with his nerves.  

“He’s right next to me,” you add. “We’re fine, I swear. Just wanna enjoy Kanazawa in different ways that’s all.”

-

To put it bluntly, the first day is awkward.  

His grandfather’s waiting from outside the gate the second you make it to that familiar street. Nothing much has changed, the two of you notice. The gate’s rusted a little by the edges, and the door’s still got the same chip on the left side he always said he’d take a look at.  

“Heard they were cutting down that tree,” his grandfather says, when it’s a little over three hours later and you’re all seated at a local restaurant for dinner. His old friend owned the place, he explained. Low lights, home cooked meals, and a family run business you vaguely remember your father talking about when you were young.  

Tsukishima pauses, eyebrows rising in question. “What do you mean that tree?”

“The one you used to run off to,” he laughs.  

Elbowing him, you nod towards his grandfather before pointing out, “We met by that tree, you know.”

His grandfather’s quick to responding, laughing at Tsukishima’s perplexed expression. “Seems like your grandfather’s memory is doing better these days than you, boy.”

You suppose that at the end of the day, it shouldn’t have been a big deal that he forgot. You’ve never been one to dwell too deep within the symbolic little nothings that’s bound to come with life. Rationally speaking, maybe you’re just a little miffed because of what he said the night before. And maybe that’s the reason why you’re taking this a little harsher than you would have on a normal day.  

But strangers, you remember. Strangers wouldn’t care if the other forgot.  

So with that, you shrug. You take another spoonful of the food in front of you and shift your body just slightly to the left—to which Tsukishima took noticed—and leaned forward. Without even saying much, his grandfather already has his attention on you, the smile on his face kind.

He’s always been kind, you remember. With a smile, you choose to keep the peace in the room at bay, willing yourself to ignore Tsukishima’s stare boring holes into the side of your head from beside you.  

“Now that I think about it, I don’t remember a lot of people stop by that tree,” you comment, as you take a step into nostalgia.  

His grandfather shrugs, absentmindedly nodding his head as he mulls over your word through a spoonful of broth. “It was in the middle of a residential area. Bound to get taken down if you ask me. People nowadays need a place to park.”

This time, you really feel his stare beside you almost intensify. Truth is, you can make sense of what you know he only fears. The point in life was to brave through the unfamiliar to establish a consistency in familiar grounds. To continuously rise from day one, only to hit the peak and possibly come face to face with a plateau instead of something greater than even the height of all highs—you admit that it’s terrifying.  

The plateau, that perhaps works sort of like that tree.  

It’s been there, so here it still is.  

You’ve both been at that tree—at the start—so here you both still are. Side by side back in Kanazawa, sharing a meal like I do, isn’t hanging on the line.

His grandfather’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. “You’re not wearing your ring.”

Tsukishima’s voice is quick to cut into the conversation, his voice smooth. “She just doesn’t wanna lose it.”  

You nod along to his lie, undecided with how to feel in regards to how smooth he seemed to have delivered his lie.  

“You know, now that I think about it, it’s good that they’re cutting down that tree.”

Tsukishima speaks his mind this time. “Last week, you said you were looking forward to coming back home so you could visit that tree again.”

You don’t look at him when you answer. “I know, but your grandfather has a point. When things change, what else can you do but get rid of it?”  

“Oh nothing’s changed,” he laughs across you. “Even before the two of you were born, people would always talk about how it’s just there when the space could have been used for parking.”

“Then why put off cutting it down this long?”

“Who knows,” he laughs. There’s an unfound wisdom in his eyes that read through your soul when he looks at you. “Maybe cutting down what people already see as a permanent fixture will do more harm than good in the long run.”

“Even if it doesn’t contribute anything?”

Tsukishima thinks of his fear, then of the plateau.  

Through the rim of the glass, he keeps a steady eye on his grandfather, breath held as the anticipation for his words begin to really settle.  

“People these days just see what’s the most obvious from the surface and consider it as the only fault then run with it. Maybe it’s not the tree,” he laughs. “Maybe it’s just the people. They want convenience so they cut off everything around them instead of adjusting to it.”

The food tastes bland in his mouth, suddenly.

“Goes to show how selfish people can get sometimes,” his grandfather finishes, as an afterthought. “A shame, really. That old tree’s done nothing but give people shade.”

-

At the end of the day, you really had to give his grandfather a lot more credit than what was due.  

The second and third day was awkward. Even though you tried to stay inside for most of your day, venturing outside and meeting up with old friends was inevitable. And really, you should have remembered that he often started his day with a couple laps walked around the block.  

On day two, he hinted that he could sense something was off. Tsukishima had been a lot more silent lately, he pointed out. First, as just a passing comment, then by the third time he’d bring it up and wouldn’t get too much of a response out of you, there came more emphasis to what he says.  

He passed by the tree every time you’d round the street too. It occurs to you that passing through it was a shortcut, and contradicted his prior statements to having a route that catered towards the long way home, but you chose to not comment much about it.  

The second day was curiosity, and you figured that you could live at least just a week with it.  

The third day, on the other hand, gave you a little more trouble than you had bargained for.  

You’re on your way home from an old friend’s house, and ironically enough, both Tsukishima and his grandfather are out by their front door, tending to the weeds of a garden that doesn’t even look remotely grown.  

Tsukishima’s the first to look at you.  

Stubborn, and frankly intent on upholding your end of the deal in staying strangers, you attempt to wave them off with a passing greeting as you look through your bag, feeling around for the keys to the gate.  

“You don’t have to think of an excuse,” you hear him say. “He’s back inside now. It’s just you and me here.”

It’s funny how ever since you’ve made it back to Kanazawa, he’s been the one to break the silence a lot more lately.  

You don’t turn. Strangers, you think. The deal was to pretend the other was a stranger.  

“Cam,” he calls out again, the desperation in his voice inching more and more out of its shell. “I’m really sorry.”

You turn around, the buried anger getting the best of you in the moment. “You know the more you say that, the more convinced I am that I should just give you back your ring right now and go back to Tokyo alone. You talk like the only thing you’re sure of is the fact that you won’t be marrying me next week, Kei.”

The moment you shift your gaze from the ground to his eyes, a part of you aches at the idea that you may have to bid farewell to gold. Swallowing down the mass of emotions you hope isn’t entirely just made of anger, you steady yourself and sigh.  

It hits you that it’s been a long day.  

“It’s just you and me here,” you repeat, slowly. There’s a flutter in your heart that tells you it’s still love that stares back when you look at him. “Then why do you feel so far away, Kei?”

-

He doesn’t sleep that night.  

Day three of being strangers, but he hasn’t had anything figured out. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but what only grew was the silence. The distance is really just a few feet away—across the street and through the leaves of that tree that your father would always say he’d get to.  

The light from your room is still turned on, though the curtains are drawn.

8PM and it’s early. 8PM, and on a usual day, you’d usually be seated beside him in your Tokyo apartment’s living room, mulling over the nothings that went on in your day.  

It’s nice to talk about the rest of the world as if all they’re meant to be is just a passing blur in the background, he thinks. He’s never been much for words, but you were.  

Then again, you had always been one for truth.  

Reality is, he knows he could always swallow his doubts, walk across the street, cover the distance, and apologize to you with an I’m sorry, that covers all that needs to be addressed in a standard apology. Life can be lived as easy as that. You swallow your own thoughts, adhere to what they say needs to be done in the way they tell you how to do so, and be done with it.  

But he knows you just as well as he knows himself.  

You’d call him a coward—and truth be told, he’ll think the same.  

Present wise—he does think he is a coward.

Tsukishima sighs, knowing that blinking at your closed curtain visible from his window won’t do much of a difference. Begrudgingly, he sits up, grabbing his glasses from the bedside table.  

The streets around the neighborhood are quiet this time of night. The perks about living away from the city was the silence, he thinks. As soon as he tugs on a sweater, he makes his way downstairs, carefully, so he doesn’t stir his grandfather he presumes is sleeping on the room across the hall.  

He exhales, relieved at the barely audible creak the door clicks to as soon as he shuts it and turns the lock from the outside. The keys, jingling in his pockets, is the only sound that rings in the quiet.  

It isn’t lonely, but it isn’t comfortable either.  

Kanazawa has always been a town he’s considered as a piece of constant that’s meant to drift inbetween.  

Neither like Tokyo or the towns by the outskirts of Okinawa, it stays as is. Twenty years ago, the crack on the sidewalk was there, and now, twenty years later, it remains.  

There’s comfort in recognizing constants, Tsukishima admits. The tree just down this road, the crack on the asphalt, and the fact that your room is still the second window to the left visible from his on the second floor.  

When he was younger, he remembers he often would stand under your window, caught in between wanting to knock on your door and ask permission from your parents if you could accompany him for the afternoon, or just wait around until you’d come down yourself.  

While he left a lot of things on chance, the conscious choice to stay rooted in the spot by your window remained constant.  

The gravel under his feet crackle everytime he’d take a step. The moon’s hazy behind the clouds tonight, he muses. While you’d wish for the stars, he found a temporary safety in the midnight clouds. A timelessness felt when it’s midnight, stays.  

Before he turns to the corner that would lead home, he stops midway—recognizing the tree from a good few meters away.  

There’s a sense of feeling an urgency to let something go, the more he stares at it. Nearing autumn, the colors start to change, and just like that, he’s reminded of the impermanence in life.  

As the earth eventually changes throughout the years, he fears that perhaps in love—it would too.

-

“You’re out late,” is the first thing Tsukishima hears as soon as he enters the room.  

From the genkan, he peers over the shelf, noticing the lights from the kitchen is what floods into the dim living room. Slipping on his house slippers and making his way around the corner, Tsukishima gets a feel of the warmth that’s radiating from the familiarity of the space.  

After his grandmother had passed, his grandfather stayed in Kanazawa. Though his mother often expressed her desire for him to move with the rest of the family in Tokyo, every time, he’d only wave them off and say that there’s too much rooted here for him to just up and leave.  

Walking into the kitchen, his grandfather’s the first to raise a mug his way and offer a smile. “I’d ask you if everything’s fine, but I think I’ll just wait around and see if you’re even willing to tell me.”

Tsukishima chuckles airily. “Sounds like you wanna ask anyway.”

He takes a slow sip. “Okay then,” he nods, smiling like he’s just struck a deal. “First question is—are you okay?”

In response, Tsukishima smiles, pulling the chair and taking the seat across his. He nods. “’Course I am.”

His grandfather’s eyes don’t leave him. “You’re not wearing the ring, and neither is Cam.”

Suddenly feeling like he’s caught in between a blocked exit and the spotlight, Tsukishima freezes, but wills himself not to look away. “Just needed some space, that’s all.”

“To think?”

He sighs. “To reconsider.”

“Ahh,” the older man sighs. “Cold feet. Pretty normal, if you ask me.”

He raises a brow in question. “It’s normal?”

“To be nervous, yeah,” his grandfather laughs. “But looks like it’s a different case for you.”

Tsukishima doesn’t respond, his eyes fixated towards a spot on the wall that feeds more into the blank space of his thoughts than anything more.  

“You’re afraid,” Tsukishima hears, and as soon as the retaliation he tries to string together at the very last minute don’t come—he realizes the core of all the chaos in his head is meant to be just like that—

Blank.

“What are you so afraid of, boy?”

In the silence, he lets the rawness of his truth slowly spill. “What if I hit a plateau after this?”  

His grandfather wastes no second in countering.  “How is it life if we just keep climbing? What’s the point in doing all that work if we never get rest?”

Tsukishima laughs. “You know, by that logic it can just go the other way around too.”

He settles in his seat, trying to appreciate the silence instead of looking for company in the noise, before he adds, “What if we decide we don’t love each other anymore?”  

“That’s not all there is to a plateau,” he laughs. “It’s a valid fear, but being afraid isn’t all there is after you marry someone.”

“Then what’s there?”

With a smile, his grandfather leans back, raises the mug to his lips, and relaxes—his eyes looking fondly at a faded photograph hung beside the wall clock. “Everyday,” he answers. “What’s there after I do is just everyday.”

Sensing that his grandfather means to say more, he chooses to retain his silence. Sighing softly, his grandfather keeps his smile steady as he continues to speak. “Everyday you wake up. You roll over in bed, you think about the checklist you do to consider a day done, then you come home, eat a meal, rest a little and start the whole day over the next day. Everyday’s like that.”

He shifts, leaning forward with his arms crossed supporting his weight on the table as he eyes his grandson with a smile. “Best part is, you can do all that with someone you love. Makes the boring part of the plateau a lot more bearable.”

“You wake up with them and complain about how boring the rest of your day will be, then come home and eat a meal with them. Wash the dishes, share the silence, and just go to bed knowing you’ll wake up with somebody.”

The smile on his face is honest, then he shrugs. “It’s nice, though. The plateau after you hit a certain point in life is just inevitable, Kei. You can either complain about life alone or complain about it with somebody. At least there will be two pairs of slippers by the genkan waiting for you everytime you come home. You’ll say you’ve made it home and someone will greet you. You’ll roll over in bed at 2am and someone will be there with you. The point of climbing in life is to get somewhere, not ascend past the norm.”

Tsukishima stays quiet, pondering over the truth in his grandfather’s words. “So life’s just meant to stay in the middle?” he asks, slowly coming into terms with his grandfather’s redefinition of the plateau.  “Life’s meant to find a consistency in everyday,” he corrects.

A few moments pass before he stands back up, pointing to the counter with a thermos. He knows it’s yours. The old one that your mother refused to throw away, because there’s a crack by the lid and a couple faded sailor moon stickers stuck by the side.  

“Look at that,” Tsukishima hears. He turns his head just in time to see the old man offer him a patient smile, the message in his eyes delivered without a hitch. “That old thing’s seen a couple of decades, but it still gets to you when you need it, right?”

It’s not so bad to have an old thing be your constant, right?

-

Twenty minutes after his grandfather climbs back to his room upstairs, Tsukishima’s seated on the side of the table beside the window. Peeking through the half-opened blinds, he can still see that the light from your room is still flicked on.  

Without mulling over the decision, he takes his phone out, scrolling through the contacts until he taps your name. A swipe without too much pressure, because even his thumb’s memorized where your name is by now. Kind of like muscle memory, he supposes.  

Bypassing the unannounced rules about what to do as the strangers you had claimed from the start of this week, it results to the lack of hesitation as he types a quick text and presses send without a thought that would counter it.  

I love you, it reads.  

From his spot in the kitchen, he leans back and smiles, pouring himself a cup of the tea he knows you brewed yourself on the nights where he can’t sleep.

The lights from your room stay on for a few more moments before it dims, but before the metaphoric silence could take root, the screen of his phone lights up.

Stop walking around at night. Drink the tea and try to get some sleep.

Exhaling almost in relief, it’s the slow beating of his heart that resettles him back into the love he’s known everyday.  

It’s not quite the end, but it isn’t exactly somewhere unpleasant either.

-

Two days before you’re meant to return to the city, instead of spending the day in your room—like you had initially planned—you somehow found yourself in the passenger seat of his grandfather’s old car, with a grocery list in hand.  

You sigh, understanding what his grandfather’s trying to do.  

As you look down, there’s nothing much written in the grocery list. He had complained about some back pain earlier, followed up by his insistent request of desperately needing his groceries done so when Akiteru was to arrive later on, dinner would be taken care of.

Beside you, with his hands on the wheel, Tsukishima sighs. “We could have just ordered in food for dinner. It’s just Akiteru coming,” he mumbles.  

Keeping your eyes to the window to your left, you shrug. “He likes making the ordinary special, I guess.”

Tsukishima stays silent after that, mentally thankful for the green light and the empty roads. The more stops, the longer silence would stay. And even after the sort of middle ground from the night before, he doesn’t know what to say to you.  

After making a quick turn, he pulls up into the parking lot and kills the engine. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he turns to you, with an expectant look. “You can just stay here if you don’t wanna go in with me,” he offers. “It’s a short list, I can be in and out in a bit.”

You wave him off, already slinging on your bag and opening the car door—the list on your hand. “It’s alright. I think I’m more familiar with this area than you are, so we can just meet back in the car in thirty minutes if that’s okay with you.”

“You don’t need me to come with you?” he raises a brow.

You shake your head no, but upkeep the smile on your face anyway as you exit the car and close the door.  

-

Something about what you say sticks with him, the more he thinks about it.

He can distinguish the hesitation laced each of your decisions. You look past him, but not exactly at him. You speak to him, but keep the conversations short. Though conversation was rare between the both of you this past week, the times that you did speak to him, your words often were clipped short.  

It’s your means of upkeeping your end of the deal, he realizes.  

You’ve always been one for communication, but then again, patience can only stretch so much.  

He respects your wish for distance and walks the opposite way from the grocery store, towards a building he doesn’t really known. It’s a gallery, he realizes. Three steps past the entrance, he notices that he’s one of the few that’s in the room.  

Traditional artwork line the wall, hung in frames that have rusted throughout time.  

Tsukishima stares, eyes drawn to the pieces of art he recognizes from the few scattered memories in his childhood that relate to his time in the city.

A fieldtrip, when he was seven. He remembers leaving the house upset over the yellow hat he had to wear, and the rain boots his teacher wouldn’t let him change out of. Unlike the present, rain was present that day. He stood beside you in line, and had to tilt his head up at the piece of art he always thought was the prettiest out of the bunch.  

And now, almost two decades later, he still thinks the same.  

He smiles at the memory, finding the comfort of returning to what’s familiar, pleasant.  

As if caught by an epiphany, and suddenly enveloped in a sense of a rediscovered home, here, within a room that’s familiar, he finds purpose in the permanence of love.

Love, that’s never meant to be stretched into the likeness of what the poets declare as the absolute form of love after “I do.”

Staring at the piece of art with the rusting frames, the strokes within the canvas still depict the same story. It still is beautiful.  

It’s doesn’t become more—but it stays as is.

And maybe that’s what his grandfather was trying to convey.

To fear a certain phase in love is something that comes and goes, but it often never stays. It can linger, but eventually, it too, fades.  

What stays is what’s rooted.  

Primarily, just you. Truly, just love.

That tree in that old street, these paintings on the walls, and the kind of serenity that washes over him at the thought of you.  

The fear in life comes in the form of thinking that beyond the peak lays a plateau. Beyond “I do,” what’s next to come is love, dwindling until “I don’t love you anymore,” is the only thing left to be said.  

It’s fear, that spoke to him the past few weeks, so this time, as he gives in, he listens to love.  

It’s quiet.

But through the smoke in the room, the message that’s meant to deliver truth comes in full clarity. Illuminated, it appears before him as it is. A painting that’s struck him as beautiful then and now, and the thought of you as the face that’s always been the first to greet him every morning for more than just a few years now.  

An old man stands not too far from him, hands clasped behind his back as he stares—with a smile on his face—at a similar painting on the wall. Sensing Tsukishima’s presence, he looks over and redirects the smile his way. “Been coming here for years, and looking at this still feels the same.”

Poking at the doubts, Tsukishima responds, “Are you afraid that it won’t get old?”

The gentleman laughs, though soft enough so it doesn’t echo too much in the halls. The joy lingers around Tsukishima, on the other hand. “To have something grow old with you isn’t a bad thing. Day one, this piece was beautiful, and now, almost forty years later, I look at it and think the same too.”

A beat of silence passes, but the man speaks once more.  

“My wife, when she was alive, showed me this piece. Maybe I look at this and still find it beautiful after all these years because I think of her, but I don’t think trying to focus on that matters much. The feeling’s the same, even if it grew old.”

Reciprocating the older man’s goodbye with a nod to the head, it’s then where he laughs, a little bit more of the truth unraveling as each moment comes and goes. Thinking of his words, he dwells on its meaning.  

Standing there, alone in the museum hall, the smoke clears, and he presents himself his words of blended truth and patience.  

Love is timeless, his thoughts say. The plateau after the peak is as possible as the drop, but life’s meant to be lived in the lows and in betweens as much as the highs. Time moves in waves, and perhaps love doesn’t always grow stagnant. It can be timeless, even though the frames rust. His hair will grey, and maybe you’ll stop linking your pinky with him beneath the sheets during the rainy season’s thunderstorms, but the root of love stays.  

Within the plateau, time will move, and you’ll both grow old, but the taste of the tea you’ll brew for him will remain the same.  

And thirty minutes later, when he makes it back to the parking lot with you waiting by the door, the love that steadies his beating heart will be the same too.  

Steady, present, and timeless.  

-

Eyeing the dashboard, you’re the first to break the silence. “Why’d you buy a postcard?”

Rolling into a stoplight, he eases on the brakes and shrugs. “Lived here for so long, and I don’t even own a postcard from here.”

“Me neither,” you blink.

A couple minutes pass, and the car’s rolling again, but he misses a turn. Assuming that he’s just not used to the usual route, you stay quiet—until about he pulls up to a familiar street.  

Parked to the side, through the windshield, you find yourself face to face with a familiar tree. “Kei.” He hums.  

The coming autumn has a few leaves beginning to change its colors, you notice. The summer hues, unbalanced, as bits of red begins to bleed through the green. “You were supposed to turn there, not here.”

He shifts the gear into park, then takes his hands off the wheel, leaning back. “I know.”

It’s quiet after that, but it isn’t all that unpleasant either.  

This is the part where the questions begin to poke at you, the what-ifs in love let out in the open as you voice a little bit of your vulnerability. And because the truth is daunting, you hope he understands you through the metaphors. “Do you really think they’ll cut it down?”

He doesn’t allow the silence to take more than a moment. “I think so,” he nods his head.

“It’ll be good though, I think,” you add, nodding your head.  

It’s quiet in the room even though the words of your truth coaxes the unhealed wound to resurface. As it comes into light, it doesn’t sting.  

Sitting shoulder to shoulder beside him in the car, the tree that witnessed the first hello stays rooted, and watches.  

He doesn’t turn to you as he speaks, but in a way, you feel as if a farewell was the finale that was meant to be delivered somehow. “It’s good,” he starts. “Letting go of something that needs to be let go of.”

-

Tokyo

-

Tsukishima’s the first to speak.  

“I’m not good with words,” he starts.  

There’s a hush in the crowd, so you stay with it, knowing you’ll only add to the silence should you choose to respond. It wasn’t your turn anyway, so you will yourself to be still and listen.  

“Hey Cam,” Tsukishima continues, choosing to begin his vow with a hello. “I think a lot about what love’s supposed to have meant, mean, or eventually mean in the long run. I thought too much about it to the point where it…” he trails off, blinking at the piece of paper before flicking his eyes up to you with a slight shrug. “—to the point where love began to scare me.”

For a brief moment, he closes his eyes, confident in the fact that when he opens them, he knows he’ll see the world in clarity this time. With the smoke cleared and the scattered pieces of all his doubts set in order, the words of his truth may not speak of the most tender poem of love—but within the lines lies his truth.

As he lays his truth on you, he holds a breath and lets it all go. “I wanna wash the dishes with you for the rest of my life,” he laughs, exhaling softly, his shoulders shaking a little. “Never occurred to me how much of a liar the downside of your thoughts are when you listen to everything that isn’t love,” he continues.  

Your shoulders relax, and even through the blur of the veil, you can tell his eyes are steadily watering.  

“I’m sorry,” he says, the microphone just barely picking up what he says. You nod your head anyway, wishing you were holding his hands instead of the bouquet. Reassurance comes in many forms, but you know he’s always been the type to receive it well through physical touch.  

A kiss on the cheek, your head on his shoulder, or your hands squeezing his. But the smile you give him suffices for now, you think.  

“I wanna wash the dishes with you for the rest of my life. I’ll wash, and you dry. Nothing much happens in our day usually, but nothing has to. I’ll listen to you talk about how shit the traffic is in the city, because I know you’ll listen to me talk about the same complaints I have from Monday to Friday anyway.”

You realize he’s written his vows in the back of a postcard—the one you saw on his dashboard a few days ago, from Kanazawa.  

He sniffles a little then looks up, laughing to himself at how emotional he’s getting. Allowing more than just truth to trickle out slow is a part of love too, he realizes, so with a soft laugh, he lets the tears be and speaks again. “What needed to be let go of was let go of,” he exhales, like he’s been holding his breath for this long.  

In a sense, maybe he has. Sometimes fear grips you tightly enough that it shifts your point of view from one thing to another. What’s love, becomes fear. Then what’s fear, becomes the smoke that buries the core of truth too deep within the haze.  

“I let go of the thought the thought that after marriage, if nothing great would come then that would be the end of love,” he breathes. “I stared at that tree and thought of Grandpa’s words again and again then wrote my apology and I love you on the back of a postcard that only had one a couple of blank lines at most.”

He waves it for you, then to the crowd, to see. The words, jumbled up together look almost incomprehensible written so closely together, but in a way, you have a feeling that he’s just speaking the rest of his truth as it comes in the moment.  

The truth in love, you realize, is that its truth comes, fully unraveled the moment the initial plan falls apart.  

He puts down the postcard, and just looks at you.  

“There’s a lot I don’t think I will ever understand when it comes to love, but maybe I’m here to just feel it and not try to decipher it.” He pauses, ignores the few tears that roll down, and shrugs his shoulders, admitting to himself that the truth in his love is the first thought that comes.

“Love doesn’t have to the greatest,” he tells you. “I just wanna wash dishes with you for the rest of my life and hear about how traffic was unbearable.”

You smile, and your assurance reaches him.  

“I think that counts as love too,” he finishes, the smile on his face tender.

-

As he leans in after I do, he murmurs a question in your ear that you’ve been expecting since the start.

You could have just left, he said. How did you deal with me and still choose to stay?

Your answer was said without a hint of hesitation. With a shrug, and an honest smile, you told him, “Because I love you.”

“I think we both had to let go of the thought that to love always means to have the biggest reasoning behind it. We do things for love, and because of love. That’s just how it is,” you shrugged.

Oddly enough, it’s in that same exact moment where he remembers Bokuto’s question from that dinner a week and some days ago.  

How does it feel? he recalls, and even though words have never found him first nor met him in the middle easy, he gathers what he can and just settles on the conclusion that it just feels like love.

Wherein love, is this.

An identical band on his and your finger, and the taste of I do pleasant on the tongue. I love you, as a truth that’s easy to fathom and healing to hold, and the fear of what comes next just a passing thought that goes as soon as it comes.  

Later that evening his grandfather sits him down and asks him what he really thinks about why people have been putting off cutting down that tree for a few decades now.  

With a laugh, the hesitation that often turns decisions is made clear to him. “You know I think that people would decide things and think they’re so solid on it before even being face to face with it. The second they get to that tree with a chainsaw, I promise you they changed their minds. You think you go there and cut off or let go of one thing, then realize you’re cutting off something else in the end. They go back to what’s been there and realize that it’s not the problem at all.”

Tsukishima sighs, and his grandfather watches, the smile on his face easy. It’s like watching some emerge from a smoked out room, he thinks. Clarity’s always been a blessing, and he’s glad his grandson’s finally found it.  

“Sometimes going back to the start is the one thing you need to be reminded that it’s worth it to keep going.”

“Sounds like you’re not talking about the tree,” his grandfather comments.  Looking at you, Tsukishima smiles. “You could say that too.”

Dumbo | Jungkook (M)

→ summary: you know what they say about boys with big noses...

{or alternatively: jungkook has a big dick but he doesn’t know how to use it, but luckily you’re there to help.}

→ genre: humor/crack, smut → warnings: they talk about dicks a lot (i.e. jungkook has a big dick), DICK MEASURING CONTESTS (aka jk gets his dick appraised... just boys bein’ boys), explicit sexual content, semi-public exhibitionism, handjobs, blowjobs, sub!jungkook, whining, light dirty talk, mild pain play, mutual masturbation, jungkook has piercings, accidental edging (you’ll... understand), oc doesn’t have a gag reflex lol → words: 17.2K → a/n: @jincherie... you are my enabler and i will die on this hill only if you die on it with me. but of course i know you will die with me. because we only have one braincell and if either of us die, we both do. thank you for commissioning me to write this btw... even though i was already writing this so you just basically sent me money for free. ANYWAY... WORLD IS FUCK BUT I LOVE RHA!! ALSO JUNGKOOK HAS A BIG DICK!! EPIC!!

The club lights make it difficult for Jungkook to see anything. He doesn’t understand why club owners can’t just jack up the lighting for once; it isn’t like you’re going to be able to find a hook-up through echolocation or something. Though, judging by the way people seem to be groping their way through the masses, perhaps there really is no need for illumination anyway.

Jungkook normally hates this kind of scene. Drinking is all good and fun, especially when he’s with his hyungs, but going to overly crowded places makes his skin crawl with anxiety. It takes almost three shots during pre-game for him to get anywhere near this kind of place and it’s all thanks to Seokjin. That hyung thrives in these kinds of environments, like a clipped butterfly relearning how to fly.

“I’m gonna get shit fucked wasted!” Seokjin hollers, his arm looped carelessly around the only other person who hates being here as much as Jungkook does. He watches passively as Yoongi tries to bite a chunk off of Seokjin’s hand, but despite his inebriation, their eldest hyung is able to dodge it quickly.

“Not before I kill you, then everyone else in this place, and then myself, first.” Yoongi growls, nudging Seokjin off his smaller frame. If the world hadn’t been swaying underneath Jungkook’s feet, he might have offered to help his small hyung do the deed. If there’s anyone who hates nightclubs more than Jungkook, it’s Yoongi. Jungkook is frightened to know how Seokjin managed to convince Yoongi in the first place, and he’d prefer not to find out what sort of terrible blackmail the elder must have under his sleeve to accomplish such an arduous feat.

Just as Yoongi is about to connect his steel-toed boot up Seokjin’s freshly bleached asshole, Jimin returns from the bar with three glasses held precariously in each of his fists. Jungkook wonders yet again how this is possible due to the sheer tininess of Jimin’s hands, but then again... What can’t Jimin do when it comes to alcohol?

“I’m back! Here you go, Jungkookie,” Jimin says, seamlessly handing Jungkook a glass of what he hopes is just a regular beer like he asked. Knowing Jimin, he probably ordered the strongest shit they have. He peers at it suspiciously, but it only takes half a sip for Jungkook to confirm his guess. He grimaces, nearly coughing out a lung at the strength of the poison running down his throat.

“That tasted like fucking metal polish! What the fuck, Jimin?”

“I know! It’s great isn’t it?” Jimin smiles angelically, handing Yoongi one of the drinks. Yoongi looks at the swirling piss-yellow liquid as if it holds the secrets to the universe. It appears as if he’s decided something when his eyes light up.

“Oh my god, this drink is gonna kill me,” he says, not an ounce of fear in his voice. Jimin nods, not even trying to hide his deception.

“I promised the bartender a blowie if he could give me the strongest shit they had,” Jimin shrugs. “Dude literally went to the back room and took out this bottle that looked like it came from Napoleon’s secret stash of hooker piss.” He sniffs the drinks thoughtfully. “Yea, I could believe that.”

“I hate this!” Jungkook cries at no one in particular.

“Tough shit! We’re in this together!” Yoongi groans, downing the entire contents of his drink in one go before promptly being swallowed whole by the crowd. Seokjin hoots, hastily waving goodbye to Jungkook and Jimin before following Yoongi and diving into the sweaty masses like a seasoned Olympian.

“I hope they don’t die like last time,” Jungkook sighs, forcing himself to take a big gulp of his drink. It sears against his throat like a brand, which probably has an inscription saying “Jeon Jungkook has bad taste in friends.”

Jimin shrugs his shoulders. “Well, like Namjoon said a while ago, we’re gonna meet by the bar in 2 hours to check if everyone is still alive and we’ll find out then. Okay, Kook?”

Jimin has reminded him of this for the umpteenth time, though he can’t blame him for being extra careful. Last time the whole gang went to the club, Hoseok had gotten stuck in an elevator at his hook-up’s place and had cried for 5 hours straight before one of them thought to look for him. The time before that, Taehyung had ingested two times his bodyweight of margaritas and he had found himself in Japan the next morning with an extra $500 in his pocket.

Yeah. They’re idiots, but at least they’re idiots who will try not to make the same mistakes as last time. Key word being “try.”

Jungkook looks around the club, but he can’t find any awkward looking lanky people anywhere. “Where is Namjoon-hyung, by the way? Haven’t seen him since we split up.”

“Who the hell knows?” Jimin laughs, the sound drowning out when the DJ suddenly decides to play a death metal version of Dance the Night Away by Twice. Jimin’s eyes light up. “Ooooh shit! This is my song! See ya later, Kook!”

“W-wait, those drinks! Aren’t they for the others––“

“Bitch, you think these are for them?” Jimin begins to double fist his alcohol with the thirstiness of a man in a desert, or a twink confronted with two dicks. Either or.

To Jungkook’s horror, the crowd has seemingly grown thrice in size since they’ve arrived and he watches as Jimin’s body is slowly getting consumed by the masses, though he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. He leans into a random guy's back, a look of bliss on his face. He salutes lazily at Jungkook. “Anyway. See you in 2 hours, Kook! Try to have fun!”

Try to have fun, his ass.

Unlike Jimin, Jungkook doesn’t particularly feel like being crushed by sweaty hormonal bodies; instead, he chooses to head to the bar. He surreptitiously dumps his drink into the trash, feeling kind of bad for discarding a free drink, but Jungkook doesn’t want to get shit-fucked wasted like the rest of them are. Perhaps he’ll be the designated driver today, even though his vision is still kind of swimming. Well, he could probably walk in a straight line if he used all his brainpower. Which isn’t a lot, but you know. People learn to make do.

It takes him a while to find an empty stool by the bar and he is unlucky enough to be squished between two couples who don’t seem to be aware that public indecency is a crime. He has to endure being jostled for five minutes straight until the bartender finally notices him and allow him to order his can of coke.

(“Sorry, kid. The banana milk is all sold out. Some girl ordered our entire stock for her friends a few hours ago.” And just like that, Jungkook wants to die all over again.)

He does not know for how long he sits by the bar. Well, that’s a blatant lie, because he knows that he’s been sitting there for 18 minutes and 34 seconds exactly. He’s checked his phone religiously every 2 minutes to see if 2 hours have passed already, just so he can ask one of his stupid friends to go home with him. Perhaps he could coerce Jimin into turning in early for once (which is a pipedream, not when the DJ seems adamant to play Jimin’s favorite Christina Aguilera song 70 times in a row.)

So in short, Jungkook is miserable. He could go home by himself, but also he doesn’t want to end up having to walk to the police station the next morning to bail his friends out after one of them inevitably destroys public property again.

Fuck. Maybe he shouldn’t have thrown away his other drink.

He’s so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice that one of the couples beside him have already left and that another person has taken their spot. He is jarred from his musings when a well-manicured hand is placed delicately on his shoulder, urging him to swivel the barstool around to face his soon-to-be acquaintance.

“Hey,” you say, a sultry smile on your lips. Jungkook feels his mouth immediately fill with cotton as he stares at your beautiful face, the dingy lighting of the club doing nothing to suppress the wicked glint in your eyes.

“Uhh… hey?” Jungkook replies, as charming and verbose as ever. If it isn’t obvious enough, Jungkook is a little lacking in the girls department, or at least, when it comes to girls-who-are-blatantly-flirting with him department. He normally isn’t this socially inept around the opposite gender, but given the connotations of this circumstance, his overactive male brain can only be restrained so much before it starts wandering towards dangerous territory.

It doesn’t help that the neckline of your dress is bordering on obscene, and Jungkook is afraid that if you move one more inch towards him, something very embarrassing might happen to the both of you (probably more so for him, if he’s being quite honest.)

“I couldn’t help but notice you from across the club and thought I should introduce myself,” you explain, gaze unashamedly trailing down his body. Jungkook can feel the heat from you radiating in waves, burning him from the inside out as he tries not to melt into a puddle in a pathetic attempt to get the fuck out of there.

“You saw me? But it’s… so dark in here…” Jungkook wants to fucking murder himself. That’s what he decides to say to you? God, no fucking wonder he’s a virgin. Good looks really aren’t everything when he doesn’t have a brain controlling the rest of his body. There might as well be a fucking hamster running laps inside of his skull for all he knew.

Thankfully (or unthankfully––God knows Jungkook’s stress levels aren’t lowering any time soon), you find his response funny enough to warrant a chuckle. You bat your eyes salaciously at him, which Jungkook didn’t even think was possible. People can be sexy? When they blink? Apparently, you can do that.

You shrug your shoulders. “That’s true. You caught me in a lie, I suppose. I actually knew you were coming even before you arrived.”

Jungkook chokes on his own spit then, nearly spraying you with his saliva like the dog that he is. His eyes bug out of his sockets, his body going tense with nerves. "You... you knew? What... What does that even mean?"

You point over your shoulder, gesturing vaguely at the crowd on the dance floor. "I'm friends with Seokjin over there. He mentioned you were coming with him to the club tonight so I decided to tag along."

"You know Seokjin-hyung?" The alarm bells in Jungkook's head start ringing wildly out of control. Nothing good ever comes out of being friends with Seokjin, especially since his presence alone has the power to make the creases in your brain to smoothen. Take it from someone who's been there, done that.

"Yep," you say, popping your 'p.' "I met him in my first-year English course, though I still don't know why a third-year like him was taking it in the first place."

"It's because he doesn't know how to read," Jungkook says plainly.

"I can tell. He uses voice-to-text exclusively and Siri can never spell Asian names correctly," you shrug your shoulders. "Either that, or he just doesn't know how to spell your name."

"Yea. I'm permanently John Jung Cock on his phone," Jungkook replies. He shakes his head. "Hold on, we were talking about something before this."

"Oh. About how I casually revealed to you that I was stalking you through our mutually insane friend?"

"Y-Yea, basically." Jungkook doesn't even understand what the fuck is happening right now. "I mean! Not exactly? Like, for all I know, you could've just asked hyung who he was coming with and he mentioned my name and––"

"Listen, kid. I straight up just told you I'm stalking you. Let's skip the foreplay and get to the meat of it: I'm literally following you," you say, without an inch of regret, embarrassment, or morality in your tone of voice.

Jungkook, who despite being filled with so much fear and tension enough to kill the small hamster inside his brain, is somehow able to keep his calm in front of the psychopath in front of him. Either that, or he's already in the middle of a stroke and he's lost all his fine motor skills.

"I... I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything, baby," you murmur, leaning even closer to him until your chest was practically pressed against his. The thin layer of your dress and his well-worn cotton tee does nothing to help the situation (both in general and the one in his pants). He can feel your every curve, can smell the sweet perfume you're wearing; you were enveloping his senses. If he tried hard enough, he could probably count your eyelashes if he so desired with how close you were.

He knows he should probably be running away in terror right now, but he finds himself stuck resolutely to the barstool, unable to move. Maybe Jimin was right... Maybe he did have a fear kink or something.

("Isn't that just called masochism?" Jungkook asks, brows raised.

Jimin only laughs, patting him on the back condescendingly. "Nah, dude. You just straight up wanna die by the hands of a hot person, and I can respect that homie. We all have been there.")

“W-what do you want from me?” Jungkook asks, sweat lining his brow. You’re still looking at him like he was a meal, but he finds he probably doesn’t mind being devoured by you.

Your wicked grin returns, full force. “I just want to play, Jungkook. But why don’t we discuss this… somewhere more private?”

Thunk. Was that the sound of his heart dropping out of his ass, or his brain pressing against the left side of his skull, or his dick hitting the roof? Jungkook isn’t sure, but he does know he wants to see where this night will take him.

He lets you lead the way, squeezing through sweaty bodies and elbowing a stray hand or two. Jungkook swears he feels a guy grope him on the way out, but before he can even sock the guy in the jaw, you’re already one step ahead of him. You hiss menacingly at the dudebro, raising your long acrylic nails in a show of dominance like you’re from some wildlife documentary. The guy audibly whines, running away from the two of you with his tail between his legs.

Jungkook stares at you incredulously. “How the fuck did you––”

“I’ve gone to tango classes with that dude. I have his mom’s phone number,” you explain nonchalantly. Instantly, Jungkook feels himself hardening in his pants.

You manage to get to where the washroom stalls are. You brazenly walk past the line of girls at the women’s section, but Jungkook is even more confused when you also pass by the men’s section. You turn the corner, where a bunch of tables and chairs were being kept. Then, you begin to knock down some of the extra chairs stacked against the wall, which is where Jungkook discovers there is an unused wheelchair accessible washroom.

“Why is this washroom being kept hidden?” he wonders aloud, sneaking guilty looks over his shoulder. No one seems to have noticed that the two of you are blatantly trespassing property, but you don’t look all that stressed about it.

You look at him weirdly. “Dude. You can barely walk in this club without getting groped, poked, or doped. As much as I’m all for accessibility, I don’t think wheelchair-bound people are gonna have much of a good time here.”

Jungkook feels as though he should be saying something profound about the need for establishments to be accessible or something, but the strain in his pants really wasn’t doing many wonders on his verbosity right now. Maybe next time.

You make quick work of the barricade and you get the door open in no time. You push him hastily inside, making him yelp as he tries to find his way around the darkened room. You flip the switch on somewhere behind him, illuminating the washroom to find… a toilet. That’s it.

“Well, they certainly didn’t think about interior decorating,” Jungkook says, laughing nervously as you click the door locked. He turns, watching as you pull the black elastic that was on your wrist and begin to tie your hair. You smile cheekily at him, the implications of what is about to happen very much apparent.

“Nah, they didn’t. But the room gets the job done and that’s all we want, don’t we?” You purr, taking the two short steps you need to get close to him once more. You trail a well-manicured nail down his chest, circling around his nipple teasingly but not doing anything more. His breathing turns more shallow, and he knows for sure that his eyes must look crazed to you right now.

You bring your finger lower and lower, grazing the top of his belt buckle and staying there. You look up at him, licking your lips as your gaze trails down to his own. Once again, he feels paralyzed as you take him in and he wishes for all the horny gods from above that you would finally end the torture and finally close the distance.

Taking some pity on him, you rest your lips against his throat, suckling gently enough that Jungkook knows it won’t leave a mark. His hands instantly come up to grab your waist, as if urging you to go harder, to make it hurt.

You smirk against his skin, deciding at that moment to bite down, hard. Jungkook yelps, before the sound morphs into an unabashed moan. His cheeks pinken, embarrassed at the volume of his voice.

“I-I…”

“Don’t worry, Jungkook…” you whisper, soothing the bite with your tongue. You pop off his skin, your lips slightly redder than before. “I’ll take good care of you, darling.”

See, Jungkook doesn’t doubt you in the slightest. As for his own skills at taking care of you when the time comes… now that’s a little bit of a gamble.

Jungkook isn’t a virgin, per se… He lost his virginity during his last year of high school to some girl he met at a party, and suffice to say, he didn’t last long. He’s had a few girlfriends in the past, but none of them ever wanted to get with him once they saw his dick. You see, he had a bit of a problem…

He wasn’t small, by the way. Don’t get him wrong. In fact, he was kinda––

Jungkook is pulled away from his thoughts when you suddenly drop down to your knees, your hands grabbing onto his thighs for support. He’s almost worried that you’d injured yourself from how fast you’d dropped, but you don’t seem all that bothered by how deftly your fingers moved to unbuckle his belt.

When you get it loosened, your hands stop by the button of his jeans and you look up at him with expectation. Jungkook almost whines when your hands drift back to your lap.

You snort, amused. “What? You think I’m gonna do all the work here, buddy? Come on, strip for me.” you say, sitting on your haunches as you wait for him to move.

The strain in his pants was getting downright painful at this point, so Jungkook is more than eager to follow your orders. Still, his hands are shaking the entire time, so it takes him a few extra seconds before he can finally unbutton his stupid jeans and pull down his stupid zipper. Even through his loose boxers, the outline of his dick is very apparent, with a small wet spot already staining the front of his boxers a darker blue.

“Uh, I have to say a disclaimer first though,” Jungkook squeaks, suddenly shy under the intense gaze you were pointing straight at his dick. It twitches slightly, and your eyes follow it like a cat ready to pounce. “I’m… kinda on the bigger side, so I just want to ask if you’re sure––”

“Baby, I was sure even before I came to this club,” you say, trance-like. Your fists clench and unclench by your sides. “Now, shut up before I change my mind.”

“But––” Jungkook doesn’t get to finish his sentence, stunned to silence when you quite literally rip his boxers off of him like a magician trying to prove something. His dick springs up half-way, still not fully hard as it’s always taken him a little bit more goading before he can get to full mast. Yea, he was that big.

You stare at it for a moment, going cross-eyed as you stared at his tip head-on like some sort of perverse gun barrel. You don’t move for so long that Jungkook is afraid that he might have freaked you out with the size of his cock, though you wouldn’t be the first in a long shot. He’s about to apologize, prepared to pull up his pants in shame and walk home with half a log in his crotch. He’s already shifting his jeans back up when you place a hand on his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“Wait. Are you, like, only half-hard right now?” you ask, voice quiet.

Jungkook flushes. “Y-yeah… It gets a little bit bigger when I’m fully… You know…” he says, trailing off.

You’re still looking at his dick, but after further assessment, Jungkook realizes that you don’t look horrified in the slightest. In fact, you look pleased. “Jesus fuck you’re huge! Like… almost abnormally so.”

Jungkook literally feels like he’s going to die (and he hates that it’s kinda making him even hornier). “I guess so?”

“That’s a fucking log! You could stand on that thing!”

“I don’t think that’s possible, but––”

“Seokjin had told me you were huge, but I didn’t believe him because, well, the way he described it was that you had a literal third leg hiding under there. Who would have thought that Seokjin isn’t full of shit after all,” you say, awestruck.

“I’m really not that big––wait, Seokjin has talked to you about my dick? What the fuck? Since WHEN?” Seokjin was just out there in the world? Telling strangers about his dick? That hyung is seriously getting smashed WWE style the next time he sees him, and it’s NOT going to be sexy.

You wave him off. “Oh, don’t worry. He doesn’t just tell anyone. He let it slip because he was defending your honor,” you shrug.

In the midst of Jungkook’s mental breakdown at the realization that one of his closest friends just told a random girl that he’s got a meter long King Kong dong, he doesn’t notice that you’ve already stood up from where you were kneeling. You pull down the toilet seat cover, seating yourself on it and rubbing your reddened knees with a pout. “Ouch. Damn, I’m not used to kneeling for men anymore. Sorry, where was I? Oh right!”

You snap your fingers together, smiling gleefully at Jungkook. “So! I dragged you in here to give you my proposition, you see. I have a deal to make with you.”

Jungkook looks down at his cock, which was still red and dripping pre-cum, before turning back to you. “And this has something to do with… my dick?”

“Precisely!” you cheer, glad that he seems to be on the same page as you when he was in fact, not. “Sorry about tricking you, by the way. I’ll suck your dick after this if you’re still game, but only if you agree with my plan.”

“Your plan?”

“Yep,” you say, popping your ‘p’ once more. “You see, I have an ex-boyfriend. His name is Lee Taeyong, ever heard of him?”

Jungkook vaguely knows the upperclassman, though he can’t say he’s ever spoken to him. “Kinda. What does he have to do with me?”

“Well, if you really heard of him, then you’d already be one step ahead. Seeing as how it’s not already connecting for you––” you point to his dick, poking the sensitive head with the grace of a 5-year old at a petting zoo, “––then you don’t know that Lee Taeyong has the biggest dick on campus. Allegedly.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook repeats. He still doesn’t follow.

“Well, I wouldn’t know either because I’ve never seen his dick, so––”

“Wait wait wait. Wait.” Jungkook’s hamster brain is running a mile a minute. There have been way too many absurdities spoken in the last five minutes and he doesn’t think he’s drunk enough to deal with your insanity right now. “Let’s dissect this one at a time, shall we? First of all, how can you not know how big your boyfriend’s dick is?”

“My ex-boyfriend. And we only dated for like three days, and I don’t fuck until a week has passed, okay? I don’t play like that,” you say as if you didn’t just lure Jungkook to this dingy washroom only to give him blue balls and trauma.

“Okay, whatever. So what if he has a big dick? What does that have to do with me?”

You roll your eyes. “How can you not understand yet? I’m on the hunt for our university’s biggest dick, of course! And you, Jungkook, might just be my ticket to the number one prize.”

There is a long pause. Jungkook stares and stares at you, waiting for you to shout “Surprise! You’re being pranked, bro!” and for all the cameramen to come out and shower him in confetti and dollar bills or something. But no, nothing like that happened. He just continues to stand there with his dick out, while you sit on a dingy toilet seat with your legs crossed comfortably as if you were just two friends having a regular conversation.

After a while, Jungkook comes to a conclusion. “You’re being serious.”

You snort, annoyed as if you were the one being inconvenienced. “Of course I am, dude. I don’t stalk just about anybody to see their dick. I’m not that insane.”

Jungkook feels as though your judgment on sanity should probably be taken with a grain of salt. “S-sure. Right. You’re definitely not insane.”

“And you have a big dick! I’m glad you can see where I’m coming from,” you say, nodding sagely. You peer at his dick once more, brows furrowed as you think deeply to yourself. “Hmm… Yea, I’d say you’d be at least equally as big as him. If all else fails, I can split the winnings and get half the amount of money if you––”

“No,” Jungkook says.

You raise your brow. “Yes?” you try.

“Yes–I mean, what? No!” Jungkook repeats, shaking his head furiously. "Are you even hearing yourself? You expect me to get into a dick measuring contest with your ex just so you can, what? Get revenge on him or something?"

"Not for revenge." You lean closer to him, face inches away from his dick but you don't seem perturbed in the slightest. "It's for money," you whisper, grinning slyly.

"Money," Jungkook repeats.

You clap your hands excitedly. "Exactly! So Taeyong and I didn't actually break up on bad terms. We only got together to make Doyoung, his crush, jealous enough to confess his feelings. But now, that dumb bitch thinks that now that he's with Taeyong, he can make fun of me for not being able to handle Taeyong's dark horse cock––"

"Can you please stop talking like an insane person," Jungkook pleads. His comment remains unheard.

"––so we made a bet that Taeyong doesn't actually have the biggest dick on campus and that I'm dating a guy with an even bigger meat thermometer than he does," you finish, snapping your fingers with a flourish. There's a twinkle in your eye: it's misplaced excitement coupled with extreme insanity, Jungkook realizes.

"That's good and all, but there's just one problem."

"What?" You tilt your head, confused.

"We're not exactly dating, are we?"

"Details, details... What Doyoung and Taeyong don't know won't hurt them," you say, shrugging your shoulders.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "Of course," he says, leaning against the grimy bathroom wall. He goes to tuck Jungkook Jr. back into his pants, his dick finally softening after the last ten minutes of psychological torture courtesy of yours truly, but you're quick to slap his hand away, making him yelp in surprise.

"No! I like looking at it," you say. You stare at his dick with rapt fascination. "It's kinda like looking at a weird, deformed baby leg. Beautiful, but haunting all at once."

Jungkook huffs, staring at you in equal parts disbelief and awe. If he thought Seokjin was mentally unhinged, then you're definitely on your way towards uncharted psychotic territory. It was kind of amazing how you could just say shit without any brain to mouth filter, in your own twisted way. "Listen, lady. I don't even fucking know what your name is, but I am not helping you win some stupid bet and showing my dick to even more strangers than I have to, okay?"

You consider him, lips pursing slightly. "Why, do you have any other plans this weekend?"

Jungkook falters. "I... No, I don't––"

You shrug your shoulders, as if that's the end of that problem. "Then it's settled! I don't see why you can't just do this out of the goodness of your heart?"

"For the last time, I won't do it even if––"

"I'll split the prize with you? 50/50? That's $1000 for having a huge dick! Every incel's wet dream!"

Jungkook pauses in his rant, choking on his spit. His jaw drops comically, unsure if he heard you right. "Did you say one... grand?"

Hook, line, and sinker. You know you caught him the moment his eyes bugged out of their sockets. You smirk, crossing your arms triumphantly as you gaze upon his desperate and broke college ass (and dick). “So? Having second thoughts?"

Jungkook is quiet for a moment. He opens his mouth, then closes it. He tries to wrap his head around the number, unsure if he should be worried about how ready he is to drop his pants for money. Have I completely lost it? Am I that much of an idiot? he wonders, but then again… He’d be an even bigger idiot for letting free money go down the drain.

“Where is this money even coming from?” he asks, even though he knows his guard is already dropping quickly.

You wave your hand flippantly. “Oh, Doyoung is filthy rich. I imagine that $2000 is nothing to him,” you say, picking at a hangnail. “It’s not much money to me either, but my pride is mostly at stake here. If you want, you could take all the money as a prize, so long as you make that bitch eat his heart out.”

Jungkook feels his dick twitch and he knows that you notice. “Two… thousand…” He accidentally moans, gripping his thighs to prevent himself from nutting. “That’s…”

You tilt your head, arching a brow. “Not enough? I could put in an extra $500 if you’re really against this whole thing. To be fair, I wouldn’t wanna expose my coochie to a random person either––”

“Two thousand five hundred? Are you fucking insane?” Jungkook exclaims, voice cracking at the end. He clears his throat, but it still feels like his lungs are on fire.

“Okay, three grand it is but I’m not going any higher than that,” you huff, shaking your head. “Mr. Jeon, you really do drive a hard bargain, though I always notice that well-endowed men tend to think they deserve the universe, so I’m not surprised.” You chuckle to yourself, as if anything about this situation is worth laughing at. Jungkook feels like that one time he had inhaled an entire helium balloon in one breath when he was younger: kinda nauseous but also kinda euphoric. Is it bad that his dick is stirring awake right now? Hello?

You put your hand out, looking at him expectantly. “Well? Do we have a deal or not?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath and accesses his options carefully. Does he:

Give up his low self-esteem for money and enter an actual dick-measuring contest with some stranger;

There is no other option. Jungkook wants money.

He exhales, a migraine already throbbing incessantly in the back of his skull. He thrusts his hand forward, gripping yours harshly in a firm handshake. “I’m in,” he says, without missing a beat. Your smile brings a shiver down his back, and he can’t help but wonder if this is what Judas felt like when he betrayed Jesus, except he’s betraying no one but his own self-worth.

Well, he always did wonder how much his life was worth and three grand doesn’t seem like that big of a stretch. Oh well.

“Nice,” you chuckle, seemingly vibrating from excitement. You slip behind him, grabbing his phone from the back pocket of his jeans (which were still, by the way, pooled around his thighs because his dick was still out. Just to remind you guys in case you forgot. OP doesn’t want you to ever forget about it.) You flick open his phone, cackling maniacally when you realize he doesn’t even have a password on.

Jungkook squawks. “Hey, what are you––”

“I’m saving my number on your phone,” you explain. He can barely see what you were typing into his phone contacts, but he doesn’t miss the way you attach a heart emoji beside your name. You open his texts, sending yourself an octopus emoji that just so happened to be Jungkook’s most frequently used emoji. You snort. “Octopus emoji, huh? Seems appropriate… Can’t help but think it was a sign that this might have been destiny.”

“I just like takoyaki…” Jungkook defends himself sulkily.

“Yea? Well I like cock,” you say. You pause, furrowing your brows. “Oh, I meant to say chicken. Same thing.”

You hand back his phone, grabbing your small purse that you had thrown aside onto the washroom floor. You straighten your dress, looking to all the world as if you hadn’t just offered a stranger three grand to show his dick. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Jungkook. I expect to see you soon, maybe this weekend if you’re free. I’ll text you the details of when we’ll meet next. Toodles!” you wave, sending him a flying kiss for extra measure. Jungkook’s eye twitches, and he wonders not for the first time tonight if he was trapped in a coma and was slowly passing away.

Just as you are about to head out the door, you stop in your tracks, turning back to face him. You give him a curious expression, gaze dragging downwards until you were staring down the barrel of his dick once more. “Hey, sorry about leaving you hanging like that, by the way. I would love to help you finish, but I have a ride to catch. Raincheck?”

Not waiting for an answer, you saunter away with a spring in your step. The door swings back closed, leaving Jungkook alone for the first time in what feels like forever: just him, his dick, and the promise of three thousand dollars on the horizon.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” Jungkook groans, sliding down to the floor. He fists his cock in his hand, groaning loudly when he feels the pleasure jolt up his spine like electricity. As he listens to the sounds of his heavy breathing and the slick mess in his hands, he can’t help but wonder if Jimin was right… Maybe he did have a thing for insane hot girls who were out to kill him.

x x x x x

After Jungkook cleans himself up, he marches out of the washroom with as much dignity as he can muster. Which is to say that he walked out of there with his head bowed in shame, meekly navigating the crowded club in search of his friends.

It isn’t hard, considering that Jimin was currently hanging on the fucking ceiling from a disco ball. A group of men stand at the bottom, all of them eagerly eyeing his fat ass as Jimin dangerously humped the shiny ball of metal like his life depended on it.

“Okaaaay guys! The moment this disco ball drops, whoever catches me first gets to fuck me tonight so try your best to grab me~!” Jimin singsongs from his perch, howling madly as all the horny motherfuckers scramble all over each other, desperate to catch him lest he meets his maker.

“I. Hate. My. Life.” Jungkook sighs, striding past the group of men easily with his superior upper body strength. “Move, incels. This twink isn’t letting any of you simps touch his ass. He just likes the attention.”

“Aww, Jungkookie! Don’t ruin my fun~! Unless you wanna catch me and we can finally fu––” Jimin screams mid-sentence, just as the cord holding him and the disco ball snaps. All the guys step over themselves to catch him, but Jungkook is stronger and faster. He catches Jimin mid-air, snatching him in an instant and hoisting him over his shoulder. Everyone cheers and hollers, clapping for him as Jimin continues to giggle hysterically into his back.

“Yay! Jungkookie is gonna fuck meeeee,” Jimin pats him on the ass, but Jungkook ignores him. He goes around the club, searching for the rest of his friends until he has five dangling bodies hanging off his body like some six-headed freak.

Well, it’s soon going to be five-headed after he beheads Seokjin, whom Jungkook is certain just vomited all over the back of his jeans.

“I can’t fucking find Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook grits his teeth, his nose assaulted by the stench of Namjoon’s armpit as the elder contorts himself into a more comfortable position. “Stop fucking moving, you long-legged bastard. Why’d you have to be born with such good body proportions?”

“And why are you so hot, Jungkook?” Taehyung swoons from somewhere underneath Hoseok, who seems to be either passed out or dead; Jungkook didn’t pause to check for a pulse.

“Pretty sure Yoongi went home,” Seokjin slurs, a second wave of nausea hitting him as he struggles to keep the alcohol inside of him a bit longer. “Ugh… Said he saw his roommate and they went home together.”

“God, it better be his fucking roommate and not another person trying to sell his organs again.” Jungkook sighs. “Either way, we’re all going home. We’ve done enough damage for tonight.”

“Jungkookie, did you have any fun at all tonight? Didn’t see you around,” Namjoon quips, managing to wriggle out of Jungkook’s grip and fall face flat on the curb. He whines pathetically, not making a move to stand up again. “Ugh. I didn’t even drink a lot tonight so why...?”

“It’s because you’re Namjoon,” Jungkook supplies helpfully. He lets the rest of his friends down, making sure they are leaning against the wall for support (or sitting against the wall in Hoseok’s case). “Alright, I’m calling cabs. Seokjin-hyung, I’m staying over at your place tonight.”

Jimin, who was already slowly falling asleep where he stands, perks up in attention at that. “Wait, you’re coming home with me and Seokjin? Are we reaaaally gonna fuck?” Jimin tries to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, but to Jungkook, it just looks like he’s having a stroke.

“I’m done nutting for tonight. We are sleeping once we get home and that’s it,” Jungkook snorts, crossing his arms.

“OOOOOOOH? JUNGKOOK GOT FUCKED AT THE CLUB!”

“GET IT BOY!”

“OH SHIT HE FINALLY USED HIS PURPLE-HEADED YOGURT FINGER!”

“DAMN DUDE? DAMN? DAMN?”

“AW, YOU FUCKED SOMEONE WITHOUT ME?”

Jungkook swears he had heard Hoseok speak amidst the yelling from his friends, but his hyung still remains mysteriously hunched over and dead to the world. “None of your businesses. Anyway, a cab is coming soon and I swear to God, if any of you piss or vomit in that poor man’s vehicle, I will make sure none of you live to see the light of day, okay?”

Jimin turns to Taehyung, who just happened to be beside him. “Not gonna lie, but I kinda jizzed in my pants just now. That was kinda hot.” Taehyung only nods in agreement.

An hour and thirty minutes later, Jungkook manages to get the last of his idiot friends home, leaving only him, Seokjin, and Jimin as they tiredly trudge up the steps to the apartment. It takes an additional twenty minutes for Seokjin to figure out where he’d left his keys, only for Jimin to raise his finger for them to wait as he hid behind some bushes while unbuckling his jeans. When he comes out of the bushes, pantless, he has a key raised with a victorious smirk on his face.

“Don’t ask where I keep this,” is all he says and Jungkook is glad that he had rejected Seokjin’s offer to permanently move in as their roommate.

They all stumble into the apartment, with Seokjin falling immediately onto the couch. He curls up into a little ball, snoring the moment his eyes shut. Jungkook wants to shake him awake, eager to interrogate him about what happened between you and him just a few hours ago at the club. Even if he wanted to wake him up, Jungkook is sure nothing can rouse the elder; this fact is confirmed when Jungkook dumps water on him, only for Seokjin to keep sleeping soundly like a baby.

“Well, hyung is dead. Guess it’s time for me to die too,” Jimin says sleepily, the horniness and insanity from the club already wearing off. He pats Jungkook gently on the head, pointing towards Seokjin’s room. “Sleep there. I’ll hand you an extra blanket because I wouldn’t trust that hyung’s sheets. Let’s sleep, yeah?”

Left with no other choice, Jungkook heads to Seokjin’s bedroom, jumping onto the unmade sheets and pretending not to notice the crusty unknown substance on the corner of the bed. He can’t fall asleep, not when he’s left haunted by the weight on his chest (and dick). Jungkook fiddles with his phone, staring wide-eyed at the name displayed tauntingly on his screen.

Y/N L/N.

He was gonna have a nightmare tonight, that’s for sure.

x x x x x

Jungkook wakes up early, much to his chagrin. He’d really like to stay dead to the world for much longer, but the smell of coffee brewing and bacon cooking is kind of a hard deal to pass up. Jungkook shifts in bed, cringing when he realizes he went to sleep in his jeans, and more importantly, that his pants felt a lot stickier than he remembered.

He lifts the blanket up, confirming his suspicions. “Fuck!”

Well, guess he didn’t have much of a nightmare last night after all.

He shucks off his clothes, disgusted by the mess he finds in his underwear. He hobbles over to Seokjin’s closet, cringing when he finds only one (1) clean pair of shorts left, which just so happened to have “PEE IS STORED IN THE BALLS” stamped on the back in cursive font. Beggars can’t be choosers, he supposes.

Jungkook tiptoes out of the bedroom, confronted with the sight of Jimin pouring three mugs of coffee and Seokjin still slumped over the couch, a substantial amount of drool dripping down from the side of his mouth and forming a puddle on the floor. Jungkook takes a photo, saving it for later.

“Morning,” Jimin smiles from the kitchen, offering Jungkook one of the cups. Jungkook is certain that Jimin has no recollection of the events from last night, though such is Park Jimin’s way of life. He drinks to get fucked up, then he forgets, and then the cycle repeats itself anew. Jungkook wonders how Jimin always manages to wake up without a hangover, though God might have just given him a super liver in compensation for his lack of height.

“Hyung is still dead,” Jungkook states plainly, walking over to Seokjin and peering at him closely. Jungkook sticks a finger into his agape mouth, collects some of his spit, and then proceeds to give him the wettest willy of his life. Still no response.

“Let me try,” Jimin says, sauntering over to Seokjin with one of the cups of coffee. Jimin leans down, hums gently into his ear. “Hyung, wake up. We have coffee for you!”

Seokjin mumbles incomprehensibly in his sleep, snuggling deeper into the couch stuffing. Jimin tilts his head, still smiling. Then, he dumps the scalding cup of coffee all over Seokjin’s crotch.

In an instant, Seokjin screams with the pitch of a banshee, swinging his arms wildly about and nearly knocking himself out with his own fist. Jungkook and Jimin watch passively from the sidelines, waiting for the elder to finish fanning his nutsack before greeting him a pleasant morning.

“WHY ARE YOU BOTH LITERAL DEMONS?” Seokjin hollers, jumping to his feet with his scorched balls and all. Taking pity on him, Jungkook walks over to the fridge, tossing his hyung a bag of ice. And by toss, it’s more like he pitches the bag straight into his dick with the ease and speed of a seasoned baseball player, eliciting another round of pained howls.

“YOU––ASS––” Seokjin seethes, clutching the bag of ice to his nether regions. He sits down on the adjacent loveseat, expression contorting as he cups his balls gingerly. “God, it’s almost like you guys don’t think I deserve basic human decency.”

“That was just a small part of my revenge for you, after you gave my contact details to an insane woman,” Jungkook sneers, miming a punch onto Seokjin’s handsome face. Seokjin doesn’t even flinch, too busy staring at Jungkook’s legs.

“Hey, are you wearing my thot shorts?”

Jungkook looks down at the neon pink monstrosity around his hips. “You call these your thot shorts?”

Seokjin shrugs. “I got dicked down in them once. You should try.”

“Oh, did I hear something about revenge? I smell tea in here,” Jimin says, coming back from the kitchen with his own cup. “Well, I have coffee but same shit. What happened?”

“This––” Jungkook points an accusatory finger at Seokjin, “––asshole sent my location information to an insane stalker lady last night after he told her that I had a huge dick!”

Seokjin squints at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Y/N! She said you told her about how big my dick was and when she asked you where I was, you told her I was going to the club with you last night!”

“Oh.” Realization dawns on Seokjin’s face, which was quickly replaced by incredulity as he stares at Jungkook. “I assumed she asked for your contact details because she had a crush on you. I was just trying to get you some pussy, bro.”

“Yeah, Kook. Not gonna lie, but I’d be dicking down girls left and right if I had a dick as big as yours,” Jimin says, eyeing the bulge in his teeny tiny shorts with interest. “In fact, I’d probably be a top if I had a dick as big as yours.”

Seokjin laughs, nearly shooting out phlegm from the strength of it. “Oh god, don’t tell me. You couldn’t get your dick hard again? Don’t worry bro, if I had a dick as big as yours, it’d take ages for it to fill up too.”

Jungkook flushes, stomping his foot in embarrassment. “That! Wasn’t the problem! The problem is––”

“––that Jungkook nuts too quickly because he doesn’t have any practice,” Jimin tuts sadly, patting the younger with a pitiful expression. “Don’t worry, Kook. Hyung is open to giving you some pointers.”

“That’s not it either!” Jungkook screams, groaning in annoyance. “She came up to me because she offered to pay me $3000 to enter a dick-measuring contest!”

Jimin and Seokjin tilt their heads in tandem, still not getting it. “So?” they both chorus, giving him a blank-eyed stare.

“Are you guys out of your mind? I got bribed into showing my dick to some strangers like some kind of weird prostitute!”

“It’s not prostitution if you’re not engaging in sexual activity,” Jimin muses, taking a long sip from his coffee. He shrugs his shoulders. “Honestly, I don’t see how this is a problem. You show some girls your dick, and you get money. Dudes would kill to be in your position.”

“Oh my God, don’t tell me,” Seokjin leers at Jungkook, and the younger almost can’t stop himself from landing another blow against the elder’s abused crotch. “You got roped into some bukkake orgy and now you’re asking your hyungs to help you? Don’t worry, Jungoo… You came to the right people. You see, Jimin and I have some experience with––”

“LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Jungkook jams his fingers into his own ears, screaming hysterically to drown out the sounds of Seokjin and Jimin’s combined laughter. Jungkook pouts at them, glowering pathetically. “Seriously, hyungs! Do you not see how fucked up this is? Who follows a stranger to a club, pretends they’re going to give you a blowjob, only to offer 3K for you to show some strangers your dick?”

“A regular Friday night if you ask me,” Jimin says, shrugging once more. Jungkook stares at him, realizing that maybe it was the wrong idea being friends with these two lunatics in the first place. Knowing Jimin, he’d probably been in much more lewd and compromising situations than Jungkook will ever have. Rumor has it that Jimin had once done a keg stand while having his dick sucked while on vacation in Japan.  

“Well, if you were really against it, then you could have just said no?” Seokjin points out, wagging a finger at him. “I know Y/N, and yeah she’s kind of demented, but she still knows that no means no. Surely, you haven’t considered the fact that you are 1) a pushover and 2) horny for her?”

“Well, yea––No, what––No!” Jungkook splutters, stammering wildly. His two hyungs grin salaciously, gazing at him knowingly. Jungkook can only groan, as he knows that they kind of have a point. He’s always been too weak for girls and money, so when you put those two things together…

“I might be addicted to the BBC tag on Pornhub, but you my friend… You’re in it for the BBCC,” Jimin snickers, patting Jungkook comfortingly on the back. Jungkook groans into his hands, slumping onto the loveseat beside Seokjin, whose icepack had long since melted and caused the seat to be uncomfortably damp.

“BBCC? I’m almost too afraid to ask.”

“Big black credit card,” Seokjin pipes up, wrapping his own arm around Jungkook’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, bud. We all have been there.”

That’s the problem: somehow, Jungkook finds himself much too ready to accept his fate, eagerly awaiting when you’ll text him next.

x x x x x

After a much-needed shower at Jimin and Seokjin’s place, Jungkook tiredly makes his way to the nearby bus stop, ready to go home and sleep the entire weekend away. Screw his Biochemistry midterm on Monday––if he really is going to whore himself out to you, then he’s going to need all the self-care and therapy that he can get. His phone itches in the pocket of his shorts (yes, he’s still wearing the thot shorts), and he wonders if he should text his therapist and ask for an extra appointment later in the day.

Just as he’s about to pull out his phone, he senses it vibrate once, twice. He freezes in his steps, walking out of the way of busy pedestrians on the sidewalk and into a random clothing store. He sees the lone cashier staring at him from the corner of his eye, but he does not check if her gaze is filled with disgust or disgust. Probably disgust, he surmises.

Flicking his phone on, he sees two new messages from you and his heart immediately starts to hammer in his chest. No one has ever made Jungkook equal parts scared and excited, though he imagines you might have that effect on most people, what with how you look like the type to tie up unsuspecting victims to harvest their organs in your summer cottage up in the mountains or something. Or maybe that’s just Jungkook projecting.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ hey! sorry for taking so long to text you. my roommate tried to make cheesecake at 3am last night and i had to supervise in case he burned down the apartment.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ anyway, i was wondering if you were free later? some time after 5 maybe? let me know!

You already want to meet so soon. Jungkook exhales heavily through his nostrils, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm himself. Alright, this is fine. Jungkook is a big boy: he can handle going to a girl’s home without losing his mind. You didn’t say anything about this being the actual dick-measuring contest yet, so he can only assume this is just you asking for something else. Maybe to talk more? Maybe he’ll get a down payment for the prize money? Maybe you’ll follow through on your raincheck? God, is it wrong for him to have his dick plumping up in his shorts when you haven’t even done anything to him yet?

(On the contrary, you could say that you have done a lot for him over the past twenty four hours, though maybe not in the way most people would expect.)

from: jjk yeah i can meet you at 5. what’s this for?

from: y/n l/n ❣️ oh, nothing! i just wanted to talk to you about the actual competition and stuff. plus, i want to actually measure your dick, just so i can see how much you’re actually packing down there ;)

from: jjk ….yeah, fine. whatever.

(This really isn’t a “whatever” type of situation, but honestly, Jungkook doesn’t really know what to say anymore. He’s officially lost his singular brain wrinkle. He’s smooth brain McGee over here.)

You follow up by sharing your location with him, and he’s surprised to find that you aren’t that far away from where Jungkook was right now. He really did mean to go back to his apartment first and get changed into something more… morally acceptable, but since he hasn’t been arrested yet for public decency, he should be okay with going to your place in Seokjin’s thot shorts.

There’s something invigorating about going to your place, dressed the way he is… Maybe the shorts are somehow giving him brain hemorrhage by indirect association with Seokjin. Either that or Jungkook simply loves torturing himself by embarrassing himself constantly. Well, at least he showered and combed his hair before leaving his hyungs’ place.

He inputs your address into his phone map, taking his sweet time as he walks the short distance to your apartment. As he passes by the buildings and street corners, he can’t help but think that he might have been around this area before. He tries to rack his brain, forcing himself to remember why this route seems so familiar.

“Oh right. Yoongi-hyung’s new apartment should be around here,” he muses to himself. He wonders if his hyung had gotten home safely last night. He should probably text him to make sure, but he’s got a literal dick appointment to attend to first, so he’ll remember to check up on Yoongi once he finishes up with you.

Does that make him a shitty friend? Probably. But would Yoongi do the same if Jungkook was in his shoes? Probably.

Yeah, Jungkook and his group of friends aren’t exactly role models for a sensitive and loving relationship, though that’s not much of a surprise to anyone.

He arrives at a decent looking apartment complex, complete with its own little water fountain at the entrance. He walks through the automatic sliding doors, peers at the shiny caution tape barring him from using the elevator. He stares at your address on his phone, groaning loudly when he sees “1603” much to his annoyance.

“No wonder she had such great thighs,” Jungkook mutters angrily to himself, preparing himself for the long and arduous journey his glutes are going to endure.

Years later, Jungkook finds himself at your door, his lungs jumping out of his throat as he struggles to catch his breath. He hunches over, elbows digging into his thighs as he wipes the sweat trailing down his neck. He can see your door just near the end of the hall, but just as he’s about to crawl his way over––

“Oh. Oh my,” a familiar voice says from behind him, and Jungkook looks over his shoulder to see…

“Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook exclaims incredulously, mouth gaping at the sight of his thought-to-be-dead hyung coming out of the elevator. He splutters for a few more moments before pointing an accusing finger at Yoongi. “You used the elevator?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, turning to look at the elevator with a thoughtful look. “Oh right. The elevator works. The maintenance people just forgot to remove the safety tape from last week.” Yoongi looks back at Jungkook, gaze lowering to his legs. “I see that Seokjin has provided you with his thot shorts.”

Jungkook doesn’t even try to cover himself, used to his friends seeing him in varying degrees of undress. Like, what was Yoongi going to do? Take a photo of him and post it to his Twitter for his thousands of followers to see? He wasn’t that cruel...

Snap! Yoongi pockets his phone quickly, clearing his throat. “So,” Yoongi walks up closer to him, peering at Jungkook curiously. “What brings you to my apartment? Not that I’m happy to see you, but I assumed you and the rest of our idiotic gang would have died of alcohol poisoning the night before.”

“...It’s a long story,” Jungkook says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Say... Where did you go last night, by the way? I tried to look for you, but Seokjin said your roommate brought you home?”

“Yeah. She went to the club with a bunch of her friends. She offered me a ride with her because she knew how much I hated it there,” Yoongi says, frowning. “Fuck you, by the way.”

“What the fuck? What the hell did I do?”

“I don’t know. You’re wearing Seokjin’s shorts and my ape brain told me to retaliate out of instinct,” he explains. He takes another long, good glance at his shorts. “Color me surprised that they fit you, by the way. I’d assume your huge ass would be making it rip the seams, or perhaps your dick would be saying hello.”

Jungkook pats his junk proudly. “I know, right? Big guy decided to cooperate, for some reason.”

“Will you guys stop yapping it up out in the hall? I’m pretty sure Mrs. Sy can hear you two idiots from the first floor,” a voice from behind Jungkook hisses, causing the two boys to jump up in surprise. Lo and behold, your head is peeking out from behind your door, a perfectly stenciled eyebrow arched in annoyance. “Well? Are you two coming in or what?” You return back to your apartment, assuming that they’d soon follow.

Yoongi looks at Jungkook. “Wait. You know Y/N?”

Jungkook looks at Yoongi. “Wait. You know Y/N?”

Yoongi squints his eyes. “She’s my roommate. She’s a mutual friend of––”

“––Seokjin,” Jungkook finishes. The two of them pause, a metaphorical light bulb glowing above their heads.

“Ah.”

“Ah.”

“I see. The demoness has roped you into some hare-brained scheme, hasn’t she?” Yoongi nods sagely, rubbing his beardless chin. “Can’t say I feel sorry for you since I have to live with the wench.”

Jungkook grimaces. “Man. She’s insane around you too?”

Yoongi shrugs, walking over to your shared apartment. “I’m dating Seokjin, remember? Everyday, I suffer. Everyday, I feel my arm.”

When Jungkook steps into your apartment, he can’t help but be a little surprised. Of course, he shouldn’t have expected to see a medieval torture chamber in the middle of a metropolitan city, but he wouldn’t put it past you to somehow make it happen. Instead, he finds a fairly cozy-looking home, with comfy couches and filled bookshelves, complete with a small balcony that had a few fresh herbs growing in little pots. It looks…

“Yoongi-hyung. You definitely decorated, didn’t you?” Jungkook snorts, fingering the little kitty-patterned throw blanket draped on your couch. It’s soft and expensive, and definitely something only Yoongi would buy. The elder doesn’t even bother looking embarrassed; he just throws Jungkook the middle finger as he walks towards the kitchen.

You come out once more from one of the connecting rooms at the other end of the apartment, presumably your bedroom. You motion for Jungkook to come in. “Yoongi, you’re gonna bake all day, right? Mind if you let Jungkook and I speak alone in my room?”

Yoongi waves his hand disinterestedly. “Whatever. If you guys are gonna be freaky in there, I’m gonna start playing clown music to drown you guys out, alright? And I mean the remix versions with the extra clown honks.”

You roll your eyes. “Yea, yea. We get it. Grandpa needs his special time alone too.”

Jungkook’s heart jumps when you don’t even bother correcting him. Does that mean you guys really were going to do something freaky? Hopefully, Yoongi has learned to differentiate screams of terror from screams of pleasure, though it’s hard to tell if he’d care otherwise.

He follows you into your room and immediately notices the perfectly made bed and the neatly organized desk. Your curtains are drawn close, but the sheerness of it allows the mid-afternoon sun to brighten the room regardless. Your bedroom smells faintly of vanilla and cinnamon, and he notices the small scented candle still smoking from when you’d put it out.

Nothing in the room indicates that he was inside the room of a psychopath, though maybe Namjoon or Taehyung would argue that anyone who makes their bed every day might be a little out of it. Jungkook continues to stand awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do next except to stare.

You plop onto your bed, giving him an expectant look. “Well? Are you just gonna stand there by the door and have Yoongi see us measure your dick or what?” That gets Jungkook to move. He closes the door, pausing for a second before locking it for good measure. Then, he takes the short two steps that he needs to stand right in front of you.

You crane your neck, appraising him silently as he fidgets from the weirdness of it all. Your gaze trails down and Jungkook is not surprised when you stop to stare at his neon pink shorts. You snort, thumbing the edge of his shorts lightly. Jungkook shivers even though you’re barely touching him and he knows that you notice.

“Trying to get back at me for leaving you with blue balls yesterday?” you muse, letting go of the thin material. Jungkook wants to bring your hand back to his thigh, but he forces himself to keep still.

He looks down. “Not really? But I mean… Is it working?” He can’t help the hopeful lilt in his voice.

You laugh, patting him lightly on the thigh. “No worries, Jungkook. I did promise you a little something last night, right? I admit it was shitty of me to leave you like that, despite what you already might think of me. You probably think I’m just some insane bitch, right?”

Jungkook stares at you. “Do you want me to be honest or...?”

You roll your eyes, but you seem more amused than anything. “Save it. I know I’m weird. But, a promise is a promise…” You trail off, winking at him. “Besides, this works out for the both of us, right? I wanted to measure your dick before we meet up with Taeyong and Doyoung tomorrow, and I can help you blow your rocks right after. Seems like a deal?”

“Is it bad that I’m so ready to have you suck me off that I’m honest to God accepting your offer without any sense of dignity?”

You consider him for a moment. Then, “Nah. I know dudes who would do worse things for three grand and to have their dick sucked. I’d say you’re just doing you.” You place your hands back on his hips, thumbing around the garter of his shorts.

Jungkook groans, not even flinching when you rip his shorts and boxers off in one rough flourish. His soft dick dangles heavily between his thighs. “See, I’m not entirely comforted knowing that you agree with my moral dilemma.”

You clap your hands together, excitement glittering in your expression. “Who cares! Let’s get you all hard and ready, shall we?”

Jungkook squirms under your gaze, getting dick stage fright. “H-hey… This isn’t like porn… I can’t just get hard when I want to, you know? I need… stimulation or some shit.”

You nod, humming thoughtfully. “You’re right… And I remember you said something about taking a long time to get fully hard, right? That’s gonna be a problem indeed.” You lean forward, “So. Tell me, Jungkook. What are your kinks?”

If Jungkook was drinking water, he’s sure he’d be doing a spit take right now. Instead, he just chokes on his own saliva, coughing out his lungs at your sudden inquiry. “M-my kinks? What for?”

“To get you hard, duh.” You leave featherlight grazes around his thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. It stirs something inside Jungkook, but not enough to do anything yet. You tsk, your brow crumpling as you decide what to do next. “What if I…”

You dig your nails into the meat of his thighs and inadvertently pull him closer. He stumbles forward, his breath knocked out of him despite how little you’d done so far. “W-wait,” he wheezes, shock running down his spine. “I––”

You smirk at him, digging harder until you’re sure to leave white little crescents littered around his thigh. “Aha. I guessed you’d be into that. You liked it when I bit you yesterday, didn’t you?”

Jungkook can’t even answer. He’s trying to keep his breathing steady, squeezing his eyelids shut. He hears you shuffling in front of him, and he soon senses your body press closer to him, alerting him that you have stood up. You wrap your arms around his neck, bending his head down until he can feel your breath fan across his lips.

Are you going to kiss him? But the contact doesn’t come; instead, your hands snake up to his hair, massaging his scalp for a moment before tugging on his roots harshly. It pulls a whine from his lips, the response surprising even himself. “S-shit,” he grits his teeth, urging you to do it again. He opens his eyes slightly, sees you watching him with rapt attention.

You lick your lips, looking at him like a meal ready to be eaten. The heat in his stomach builds, but Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to be embarrassed anymore. He doesn’t really have any more room in his brain anymore other than his unabashedly horny thoughts.

“Pain slut, huh? Somehow, it suits you.” You sound breathy, as if you were the one being pleasured instead. It makes Jungkook’s cock twitch a little, coming to life in front of you as you continue to assault his nerves.

“Do you like pain everywhere?” Your hands leave his head, coming down to the edge of his shirt. It’s a silent request, and Jungkook allows you to lift up his sweater, leaving him completely bare before you. You throw it somewhere to your right, eyes raking him up and down. Something about you still being fully clothed makes Jungkook’s inside light on fire, and it rushes blood down south before he can even understand why.

You chuckle, looking at his hardened nipples with interest. “Pierced? What a naughty boy you are.” You flick him there experimentally, and when Jungkook’s breath hitches, that gives you a go sign to do more. You fiddle around with the rosy bud some more, circling it with the pads of your fingers until Jungkook was a whining mess before you. “Sensitive… What a prize you are, Jungkook.”

Jungkook keens at the praise, even though he knows you didn’t really mean it in a good way. He finds himself wanting to please you: to get himself hard for you, to make you want him like how he wants you. He honestly can’t tell if you’re enjoying this as much as him, other than the way you’re watching him closely like a hawk.

He’s nearly half-hard, his cock jutting against your stomach. You peer down, figuring out your next move as he holds his breath, afraid he might do something wrong. Your fingers move once more, tracing shapes across his stomach and causing the muscles there to contract. He anticipates your next movements, his dick steadily throbbing.

“I suppose the easiest way to get you hard is to touch you here, right?” you murmur lowly. You grip him by the hips all of a sudden, your thumbs placed firmly into his Adonis’ belt. You inch closer and closer to where he wants you the most, and you watch him amusedly as he clamps down on his bottom lip, unwilling to sound desperate so early in the game.

(Was it early though? He’s been thinking about this exact scenario since last night, even plaguing his dreams. Still, it wouldn’t look cool if he just… busted a nut just from having his dick out. Even he knew that was kinda sad.)

Despite his best efforts, perhaps the desperation is apparent on his face because you eventually do take pity on him. You wrap your fingers around his length, not moving just yet. You smile secretly to yourself when you hear Jungkook exhale and swallow audibly, but you’re waiting for something. You look up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently as if you didn’t have his dick in your hands.

“What do good boys say when they want something?” You’re fishing, but your teasing tone breaks Jungkook down enough to release a ragged moan. He places his hands on your shoulder, using you for support as you slowly inch your hand down to the base of his cock.

He can’t keep the whine out of his voice when he says, “P...Please. Move?”

Your grin is wicked. “Of course, baby.”

Yeah, if you keep this up, Jungkook is going to come embarrassingly fast and he doesn’t think you’ll be quite pleased with that.

There is pre-cum leaking at the tip of his cock, dangerously close to pooling over and dripping all over your carpet. You are quick to swipe it off with your thumb, dragging it down his shaft for an easier slide. Jungkook’s abs tense, his teeth clamping on his bottom lip so aggressively that he almost splits it open. His grip on your shoulders tighten, but you don’t mind. You keep stroking him languidly, not going fast enough for Jungkook’s liking, but the concentration on your face is enough to make Jungkook release a stilted moan. It doesn’t take long until the wet squelch of your hand jerking him fills the room, coupled with the sound of Jungkook’s labored breathing.

“You’re really wet,” you chuckle, watching with fascination as your words urge another drop of pre-cum to collect at his tip. “Are you always like this?”

“N-not… Really?” It takes a while for Jungkook’s brain to connect, caught between wanting to keep his eyes shut and wanting to stare at your cute hands trying to wrap around his dick. Your fingers can’t even circle the girth of his cock, the realization almost making Jungkook come there and then.

He’d never been one to be overly confident about his penis size, to be honest. He doesn’t really go around proclaiming it to the world, and his meager body count doesn’t help the fact that most people are unaware of the extent of his package. He isn’t itching to tell people either, but he’s starting to see why people would be envious of having a large dick. The sight of you struggling to pump his cock really makes for a pretty picture.

“Ugh, my arm is getting tired,” you complain after a while, getting frustrated when you realize that Jungkook is almost fully hard, but not quite. “Jeez. Your dick is so huge that it really takes a minute for the fuel tank to fill up, huh?”

“I-I’m sorry?” Jungkook wheezes, nearly crying out when you flick your wrist in just the right manner. Your hand pauses by the head of his dick, squeezing tightly enough not to be painful, much to his disappointment. Jungkook is still too shy to ask for more.

You let go of him all of a sudden, causing a guttural whine to escape Jungkook’s lips. Ignoring him, you nudge him back a few steps, Jungkook complying wordlessly. He’s still confused until you reach over to your bed, grabbing one of your pillows before dropping to your knees. Jungkook’s jaw drops, spluttering incomprehensibly as you cushion your knees with the pillow.

You look up, giggling amusedly. “Reminds you of last night, huh? Not gonna lie, I’ve been itching to have your cock in my mouth, though I’m not even sure if any of it can fit. That’s not gonna stop me from trying.”

Oh God. Oh Geez. Jungkook is going to die, isn’t he? He vaguely remembers his dream from the night before, how your pretty pink lips had stretched over his dick, barely going past his head. He whines pathetically, another string of pre-cum finally dripping down and landing on your thighs.

You hold him by his hips, preventing him from moving as your hot breath fans across his wet head. You lick your lips, taking one glance up at him before giving his tip a quick peck. It’s nothing to write home about, but the way Jungkook’s breath catches is enough to encourage you to do more. You suckle his head a little, suctioning your lips and moaning slightly at the bitter tang. Your eyes flutter shut, tongue swirling nondescript patterns as you greedily engrave his taste into your mind.

The image of you enjoying yourself is enough to get Jungkook fully hard. He feels like he’s on fire, from his flushed cheeks all the way to his groin. He doesn’t know where to put his hands, unsure if you’d allow him to pull on your hair.

You must have noticed his plight, because one of your hands leaves his hips to grasp his own, bringing it to your hair. You pop off his dick for a second, lips already redder than before. Jungkook wishes he could kiss you, but he’s still so unsure. “You can pull my hair, but if you push me down further than I’m willing to go, I’m stopping immediately, okay?” Your voice is authoritative and your gaze is steely, but it only prompts Jungkook to moan in reply.

He nods, nearly getting whiplash from how quickly his head bobs. You smirk, appeased by his obedience. You return to your ministrations, rewarding him by going further down and bobbing your head at a snail’s pace.

Jungkook’s sanity is barely hanging onto a thread. He wants to thrust into your wet mouth, never having felt this sort of pleasure in his life. He’s beginning to understand why Jimin is such a slut, and he wonders why on earth he’s been denying himself things like this. His eyes are half-lidded, but he’s determined to watch you as your masterful tongue brings him to the edge of hysteria.

When Jungkook doesn’t think your mouth can go further down, you surprise him once again. You go lower, and Jungkook feels your throat swallow around him until he nearly screams. Drool pools in the inside of his mouth, as if Jungkook’s body doesn’t know what to do with the pleasure. His legs nearly give out, but your hands keep him mounted.

His toes are curling, thighs trembling. “Fuck,” he whines, unable to stop himself when he thrusts a little into your mouth. “Shit, I didn’t mean to–”

You glance up at him. Your eyes are tearing up, but otherwise you look unperturbed. You flatten your tongue on the underside of his dick, tracing the vein there as you slowly come up for air. You swallow the mix of saliva and pre-cum in your mouth, licking your lips like you’ve just had a 5-star meal. You look absolutely debauched, though Jungkook knows he’s probably not doing much better.

“No gag reflex. It’s fine,” you shrug, as if you’d just told him about the weather. Your voice sounds hoarse, roughened by the assault of his dick on your throat. “Are you close?”

Jungkook doesn’t want to admit it, but– “Yes,” he says. He’s breathing like he’s just run a marathon, sweat dripping down his neck. You observe it drip down his body, as it curves down his neck and to his chest.

“You aren’t coming until I say so, got it?” You warn. He nods, cock twitching in desperation for your mouth to continue what it was doing.

But instead, you reach back to your bed, and Jungkook finally notices the tape measure that you’d left there. Oh right. Jungkook is brought back to reality, suddenly remembering why he’d gone here in the first place.

“This will only take a second, baby,” you whisper lowly, and Jungkook’s conscience is shot out of his head once more. Call him baby one more time, and Jungkook is sure to bust his load. He’s worried he might gain a Pavlovian response to the word; getting hard every time someone so much as utters “baby” for whatever reason.

You unravel the measuring tape, placing the end of it near the base of his member. You drag it over his length, whistling in awe as the number keeps growing and growing. “Shit, you really are huge,” you gasp in amazement, peering closely at the measurement to make sure you aren’t reading it wrong. “Nearly nine inches. Are you insane?”

Jungkook chuckles in embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s… nothing?”

You snort, shaking your head at the pure audacity of this boy in front of you. “No need to humblebrag, baby. Unless you want me to degrade you, then stop being coy with me.”

At the word “degrade,” Jungkook’s erection twitches with interest. Of course, you notice. “Oh? You want me to degrade you?”

Jungkook’s face heats up, forever astonished by your brazenness. “N-no! That’s not what I–”

“You want me to call your cock pathetic, huh? Is that what you want?”

Jungkook whines, shifting from foot to foot as he tries to avoid your lustful gaze. “I…”

“Want me to call you names, huh? Took your cock so long to get hard, struggled so much to get it up. What a useless dick that you have…” you trail off, covering your mouth behind your hand to hide your grin.

Jungkook feels like he’s about to fall over. The pressure in between his legs is reaching his breaking point, and Jungkook really doesn’t want to embarrass himself by coming untouched. He has a sinking suspicion you’d enjoy it if he did, however.

Your hand slides back to his crotch, cupping his erection once more. You run your palm along him once, enjoying the way his breath hitches. He’s undeniably close and it fills you with pride knowing that you did this to him. “You’re close.” You say it like a fact.

Jungkook squirms. “Please… Faster… I’m so close, Y/N. Just a lil bit more, please…”

“I love it when you beg,” you laugh, sounding a little mean. “But since you’ve been nice all this time, I’ll let you.”

Your hands speed up, twisting and pulling him in ways that Jungkook isn’t sure are possible. He’s full-on panting like a fucking dog right now, humping shallowly into your hand like he’s lost his mind. He’s so unbelievably close, the heat in his stomach climbing higher and higher until––

“SHIT! Y/N!”

You stop, confused. That shout didn’t sound like Jungkook. You turn to your closed door, ears straining for the sound again. “Yoongi?” you call out. “Did you say something?”

Muffled footsteps come rushing closer. Your doorknob jiggles, but Jungkook had thankfully locked it when he’d come into the room earlier. Yoongi huffs from behind the door, banging loudly on the frame. “Y/N! Help! I fucking dropped the cheesecake!”

“He dropped the cheesecake,” you repeat dully to yourself. You share a look with Jungkook. The banging doesn’t stop.

“Y/N PLEASEEE THE KITCHEN IS A MESS!” Yoongi screams, uncaring of whatever he was interrupting. “YOU OWE ME! I PAID FOR YOUR RENT LAST MONTH SO YOU GOTTA HELP!”

“I hate that bastard,” you sigh, defeated. You let go of Jungkook reluctantly, giving him an apologetic look. Jungkook wants to cry. “I’m… really sorry for leaving you again like this. I…” you hesitate, looking at the door then back to him. “I do kind of owe him, so…”

Jungkook exhales shakily, bending down to the floor to pick his shirt up. He dresses quietly, cheeks burning. Why must you keep torturing him like this? He thinks his balls might explode at this point. “It’s no problem… I’ll just take care of myself at home.”

You peer at him, feeling incredibly guilty. “I have a connecting bathroom. You could use it if you want?”

“That’d be great, thanks.” Jungkook says before hurriedly rushing out of there. He refuses to look at you as he slams the bathroom door shut, breathing slowly through his nostrils in an attempt to calm himself. He waits as he listens for you to leave before his hands scramble back onto his dick, loudly crying out as he tugs himself to completion.

His legs give out from under him as he slides down to the floor, spurts of hot cum flying past his fist. Wave after wave of pleasure tingles down his spine as he slides up and down his cock. After his dick shoots its last droplet of cum, Jungkook slams his head against your bathroom wall. He’s exhausted.

He closes his eyes, thinks about how his life has led him up to this moment. Jizzing in some near stranger’s home while one of his best friends cleans up his fallen cheesecake.

“Jesus fucking Christ I hate it here,” he says. He gets up unsteadily, washing his hands of his mess.

x x x x x

Fully dressed and unsatisfyingly sated, Jungkook exits your bathroom with a flush down his neck. He keeps his eyes averted from you, but not before glaring heatedly at Yoongi as he turns to leave. Yoongi cocks his head to the side, annoyingly unaware of what he had done.

“You okay, dude? You look like a bull ready to pummel me,” Yoongi snickers, bemused by Jungkook’s flared nostrils. “Seriously. You okay?”

You slap Yoongi on the thigh, huffing angrily as you stay squatted on the floor, your other hand busy wiping off the cheesecake from the floor with a paper towel. “Shut up. You’ve done enough shitheadery today.”

Yoongi looks at the mounted clock on your fridge. “It’s only 7PM. My shitheadery doesn’t clock out until 10PM today.”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook waves his goodbye. “Well. I guess I’ll see you guys,” he murmurs, inching closer to the door. He walks out in silence, no longer bothering to hide his pouting. He takes the elevator down, ruminating on his existence. When he reaches the ground floor, his phone immediately dings with a notification.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ hey. please don’t hate me. i’m really sorry. raincheck?

Jungkook snorts, stopping in his tracks. It’s always just rainchecks with you. He types up a quick response.

from: jjk it’s not your fault. it’s fine.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ you sure? you got off well by yourself at least, right?

from: jjk yeah. don’t worry about it.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ if you’re down… i could help you through the phone? when you get home? :( i just feel really bad. like, genuinely. yoongi is an asshole.

The offer sounds interesting, but sadly, Jungkook is out of juice for the day. He’s got a lot of stamina for many things, but it turns out he’s out of practice when it comes to his own dick.

from: jjk nah it’s fine. thanks though.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ i hope you’re still down for the contest? doyoung texted me while we were busy a while ago and said that they were free tomorrow after 12?

from: jjk no worries. i’ll be there.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ <3 ty you’re the best!! <3

He groans, slapping himself in the face. God, he is so fucking whipped.

x x x x x

The next day, Jungkook wakes up with a burning headache. He feels hungover even though he didn’t drink at all the night before, and Jungkook wonders if his brain had somehow deflated overnight with how hollow he feels. He grabs his phone from his bed stand, sees a new text from you reminding him of what he’d promised.

You had sent him an address to another apartment complex just a few bus stops away from where he lives and he assumes this must be either Doyoung’s or Taeyong’s place. He shuts his eyes for another few moments, trying his best to remember how to live.

It’s already nearing noon, so he needs to get going if he doesn’t want to be late. He shudders to think what you might do if he ghosts you. Despite how guilty you were yesterday for leaving him mid-nut, he doesn’t think that debt will cover him if he chooses not to show up to the dick-measuring contest.

On the bus, he fidgets in his seat, picking at the rips in his jeans and doing anything to keep his mind busy. He keeps thinking that someone knows what he’s up to, paranoia eating him from the inside out as he darts his eyes left and right, hoping no one can actually read minds. The bus is relatively empty, with only him and an elderly couple sitting near the front. They seem none the wiser, though Jungkook fears what they would think if they knew what he was up to.

He almost wishes he was wearing Seokjin’s thot shorts, as the skimpy excuse of clothing had somehow given him some sort of confidence the day before. Gone is that false sense of (misplaced) bravado; instead, Jungkook is filled with anxiety at the prospect of showing a couple of strangers his dick.

(A fairly human response, but that doesn’t help Jungkook’s current case.)

He arrives at the apartment complex in record time, and he sees you standing by the entrance. You look well-rested, your hands fiddling with your phone. Jungkook has only ever seen you when you were wearing that revealing dress from the club and your pajamas from your home, so he’s kind of shocked to see you look cute in your simple white dress and jean jacket. Not that you didn’t look good those other times, but seeing you look like a normal university student is astonishing, for lack of better word.

You almost look like a regular girl just waiting for her date to pick her up.

“Hey!” You greet him cheerily when you see him approach, waving at him. He waves back, the apples of his cheeks dusted pink from his previous thoughts. She’s not your date, you weirdo. Wait, she’s the weirdo. Get it together man! This shit is fucked up.

“This is their place, I assume?” Jungkook asks, looking at the building. It appears almost identical to your own apartment complex, minus the mini water fountain at the front. Ah, the wonders of living in a concrete jungle.

“Yep,” you nod. You start walking towards the entrance, with Jungkook following closely. “You ready? God, I can’t wait to see Doyoung’s stupid face. He’s gonna be so pissed!”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jungkook mutters, vibrating with nerves.

You both make your way to the apartment, with you humming quietly while he sweats profusely beside you. At least one of you is having fun, he thinks grimly to himself. You reach apartment 322, knocking three times before a boy with neat black hair opens the door.

“Y/N! Good to see you,” the boy says, reaching for a hug. You hug him back enthusiastically, ignoring Jungkook’s bemused stares. If this boy is either Doyoung or Taeyong, aren’t you supposed to… hate both of their guts? Or at least, not be friends? What even is going on?

When you step back, you point at Jungkook offhandedly. “Oh yeah, this is Jungkook. The guy I’m dating.”

Jungkook nearly chokes on his own spit, but luckily the boy doesn’t notice. Right… You guys are supposed to be dating. It’s not real, though. Get a grip! “Hi, I’m Jungkook,” he wheezes, shaking the other guy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you…”

“I’m Doyoung,” he introduces himself, a small smile on his lips. “Nice to meet you too. I’ve heard… a lot about you, so to speak.”

Jungkook squeaks, earning a chuckle from Doyoung. “No need to be embarrassed. I think we’re way past that point now. Sorry for roping you into this, by the way. But when Y/N wants to fight, well… Let’s just say I’m not going to be the first one who backs down.”

“Says the dude who couldn’t even beat me at arm wrestling,” you snort, pushing past Doyoung and walking into his home. Doyoung rolls his eyes, gesturing for Jungkook to come in.

“Props to you for dating her, by the way. I’ve been friends with that demon since elementary school, so I know what she’s like. You must be a guy with strong willpower,” Doyoung says.

“I’m… Sorry for saying this, but I’m kind of confused? I didn’t know you guys were friends,” Jungkook says, examining Doyoung’s apartment. It’s a lot bigger than yours, though he does recall you saying that Doyoung was filthy rich. It’s a lot more modern looking for sure, as Jungkook can see that Doyoung has two industrial-sized refrigerators in his kitchen. What kind of university student needs two industrial-sized refrigerators?

“Yeah, we are. She actually only dated Taeyong because she knew we both liked each other but I was too stubborn to make a move, so she did the only thing she knew how to do: be an asshole,” he explains simply. Jungkook nods, needing no further clarification.

“Jungkook! Come with me,” you pop out from one of the doorways deeper in the apartment, beckoning him closer. You point at Doyoung, “And you. Get Taeyong ready. I’m gonna need a few minutes to get Jungkook in tip-top shape!”

Doyoung chuckles, shoving Jungkook towards you. “Well, that’s my cue. I’ll introduce you to Taeyong later, I guess. He’s in my bedroom, so we’ll come out in about 20 minutes? That should be enough time, right?”

Yeah. Right. Jungkook walks numbly towards you, arms rigged by his sides as you pull him into Doyoung’s spare bathroom. You lock the door close, whirling around to face him with your hands on your hips. You’ve rolled your sleeves up, appearing like a demented surgeon preparing to dissect him. “Well! Strip!”

Jungkook is clumsy when he unbuttons his jeans, his entire body feeling like it’s being weighed down by pounds of lead. He shucks them off, leaving him in his boxers (thankfully, with no holes in them. He made sure to double-check before he left this morning.) You appraise him silently, thinking of what to do next.

Before Jungkook can say anything, your hands are already on his chest, pointer fingers placed near his nipples. His piercings are visible through his thin shirt, much to your appreciation. You circle them lazily, much like how you did yesterday.

Jungkook can’t relax long enough to enjoy it, however. His shoulders are tense, fists clenched behind his back. He’s trying to stop thinking about what’s going to happen, trying to enjoy your touch. He grits his teeth, swallowing thickly.

“I… I can’t do this, Y/N.” he mumbles. “I don’t think I can get hard. I’m too nervous.”

You pause in your movements. “You’re nervous?” you purr, voice lowering. Jungkook stops fidgeting to stare at you, sensing the shift in your demeanor. “How can I alleviate that, hmm?”

“What?”

You pinch his nipples, hard. He gasps, whimpering right after from the jolt of pain. “I think I know how to calm you down,” you murmur, staring him down like he’s nothing more than a delicious snack.

“You want me to hurt you, huh? Is that it? Answer me, slut.” You say those words, but there’s a small bit of hesitation in your expression, like you’re worried if he truly likes it. When he nods enthusiastically, urging you to go on, you smile softly at him. His heart hammers in his chest, a small case of butterflies beginning to erupt there. You look kinda cute, even if you have his nipples in a twist.

“If it’s too much, just say ‘dumbo’ and I’ll stop, okay?” Jungkook nods once more, eager to get going.

You smirk, letting go of his nipples and gripping his hips instead. Your thumbs stay innocently above his boxers. “Do you like it when I call you names too, huh? You like being pinched and prodded?”

Jungkook whines, already turning needy. The anxiety from a while ago slowly drains away, leaving only lust to cloud his mind. “N-no, I just…”

“No?” You laugh, your thumbs catching on the garter of his boxers and pulling them down until the tip of his cock peeks out, already in the midst of getting hard. “Then what’s this?”

“Nggh…” Jungkook can’t say anything, can only stare helplessly at you.

“Pathetic. You have a nine-inch cock but it’s good for nothing except earning me a bit of money. Shame, isn’t it? Would be nice if you knew how to use it, then maybe I’d let you fuck me,” you say, edging closer to him until your lips find his exposed collarbones. You suck harshly, giddy when color immediately blooms at the spot. You thread your fingers into his dark, fluffy hair – and tug.

It’s too much all at once – Jungkook isn’t ready for any of it at all. He’s panting, whining, drooling a little. He shimmies his hips a little, his boxers sliding down his thighs and onto the marble floor. His cock springs free, already dripping pre-cum but still only half-hard.

“Ah, there it is. Your big useless cock. My, my… Already dirtying Doyoungie’s floor with your slick, huh? You gonna make the floor wet, baby?”

Jungkook garbles something; did he say something? Who knows. All he knows right now is that 1) you’re making him lose his marbles and 2) he’s embarrassingly close. He’s never gotten this hard so fast in his entire life, and he might be suffering from blood loss or something. His head feels light, like he’s floating. His entire body is thrumming, senses filled with nothing but you.

You gently lead him closer to the bathtub where you sit, still paying no attention to his weeping arousal. Your mouth is dangerously close to it though, but you make no move to hold him in your mouth. Instead, you hike your skirt up until it reaches your waist, revealing your white panties. Jungkook zeroes in on the darkening patch, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs. He’s screwed.

“Show me how you pleasured yourself yesterday, when you were in my bathroom,” you say, caressing the front of your panties. You grind against your palm, eyelashes fluttering as your jaw drops into an ‘o’. You exhale through your nose, laughing breathily. “If you do well, then maybe I’ll show you what I did when you left, hmm?”

Jungkook has never moved faster in his life than he did then. He takes his erection into his hands, sighing with relief when he begins to pump. He moves slower than he usually would, unwilling to finish so soon after getting this far. He’s already wound up from your teasing (and if you count the past few days, then let’s say he’s been edged long enough.)

You study him with sharp eyes, focusing on the movement of his hands. “That’s it. It must be easy jerking off with how wet you are, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” Jungkook speeds up, flicking his wrist and focusing on the sensitive tip of his cock. His attention is pulled when he sees you shift from the corner of his eye. His grip stutters when you push your panties to the side, giving him a full view of your glistening core. He licks his lips, aching to put his mouth there but only if you’d allow him.

“Why’d you stop?” You stretch your leg out, using your foot to urge his wrist to keep moving. “Come on. I want to see you.”

You circle your clit leisurely before dipping your fingers into your pussy two fingers at a time, wet enough for the slide to be smooth. Jungkook quickens his pace, wanting to match your speed. He watches, mesmerized, at the sight of your fingers pushing in and out.

The obscene sounds coming from the both of you is loud enough to mask Jungkook’s desperate mewls. He’s going faster now, wanting nothing more than to cum all over you and your pussy. You’d look good in his cum, the pearly droplets would look good in contrast with your perfect skin.

Your thighs are shaking, your own breathing shallow as you quickly approach your end. You’re moaning in tandem with him, your arousal coating your fingers generously as it begins to run down the back of your hand. You’re scissoring yourself, but it’s barely enough when you compare it to Jungkook’s cock. No, nothing would be enough to prepare you to take him. He’d ruin you, and the thought of him breaking you is enough to help you tip over the edge.

“Fuuuuuuck,” you moan, eyes screwing shut as you are wrought with the strongest orgasm of your life. More wetness drips out of you as you rub frantically at your clit, riding your high. You look at Jungkook through your eyelashes, lips parted. “Fuck,” you repeat.

Jungkook can’t hold back anymore. He knows he shouldn’t cum but the pleasure is skyrocketing at an unparalleled speed. His balls tighten, the heat in his abdomen building until he can’t hold back even if he tried. He shudders once, twice, before jets of his cum spills from over his fist, some of the droplets making their way onto your thighs. He moans at the sight, doesn’t try to change his trajectory as his mind is completely hazed with lust. “Shit, I’m–” Jungkook grinds one last time into his hand, before promptly slumping down onto the floor.

“Jesus, that was a lot of cum,” he hears you say, but he can’t bring himself to look at you. He’s ashamed, having cummed without your permission. He can feel his dick softening underneath him, and he dimly remembers that hadn’t been the plan at all. He was supposed to get hard, have his dick measured, and then finish if he was allowed. And now, he ruined everything because he couldn’t hold himself back.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he mutters quietly, hiding behind his cum-stained hands. He cringes when the mess enters his eyes, wiping his palm somewhere on his leg. “Fuck. I messed everything up. You were just… It was too much… You…”

“Should’ve used your safety word, Jungkook.”

“It wasn’t because it was bad,” Jungkook’s cheeks flush, “It was… too good.”

You kneel beside him, cradling his chin and forcing him to look at you. He had been afraid to see disappointment in your eyes, so he’s absolutely surprised to see you look… amused. You’re even giggling a little.

“Sorry. I went a bit overboard. Even I get horny sometimes,” you shrug, wiping a bit of cum away from his forehead. Your own fingers are slick with your own cum, so really, you were just making a bigger mess of his face. Jungkook can’t say he’s opposed to a little mess. “You just looked so good that I couldn’t help myself.”

“You… enjoyed yourself, too? I’m not insane for thinking there’s something between us?”

“Honestly, you’re at least a little bit insane,” you laugh at his dumbfounded expression. “What? I’m cuckoo, and you know it. The fact that you got turned on by me even after all I’d done to you… Really puts you into perspective, huh?”

Jungkook grumbles, but he’s no longer frowning. “I guess. My friends tell me I have a type, and I guess you fit the bill.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at that, and it brings a smile to Jungkook’s face. He likes it when you laugh, he decides. “Same here. I guess you’re my type, too.”

You peer down at his flaccid dick. “Too bad about your meat flute, though. Unless you can get it back up in the next 2 minutes, then I don’t think you’re getting that three grand.”

“Please don’t call my dick that,” Jungkook says before shrugging his shoulders. “And it’s no worries. I had the biggest nut of my life and that’s good enough to me. Plus, you said you’d give me one thousand dollars if I agreed to help you out, so you better not back out on that.”

You snigger, patting him gently on the shoulder. “Yeah, whatever. But not before we get out of here and you fuck my brains out, got it? You need to work for it, baby.”

Is it bad that his cock was already beginning to stir once more? Unprecedented, as it usually took Jungkook ages to get back up. Maybe you really were the one for him.

“Deal. Let’s get out of here?”

When the two of you finish getting cleaned up and leave the bathroom with no evidence that you had even been there, Doyoung doesn’t even bat an eye as you walk past him, eager to get out of the door. Taeyong is lounging on the couch with his dick… mysteriously still in his pants, as if he had no intention of taking them off in the first place.

“Sorry, we need to leave. There’s an emergency we have to attend to. See you, Doyoungie!” You tug Jungkook along, who waves his own hasty goodbye.

The door clicks shut, leaving the couple alone once more. Taeyong grins up at Doyoung, “You really are amazing, Doyoung. How’d you know she’d end up with him?”

Doyoung flicks open his phone, showing Taeyong his text messages with none other than Kim Seokjin himself. “All according to keikaku, my love. Kim Seokjin always wins.”

Busy

Dylan O’Brien x reader

Word count: 2824

Promt: Y/N receives some awful news and needs to talk with her best friend. But when he is “busy” she ends up dealing with it herself sending Dylan into panic.

Warnings: death, angst, fluff, crying, mentions of drug addiction and alcohol

Hiya kids! just a reminder that requests are open! Love y’all!

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Y/N Y/L/N?”

“This is she”

“Hi hun, I’m Elizabeth, your mothers caretaker”

About 2 years ago your father had died of a heart attack, your mother was old and so you and your younger sister had decided it was best to hire a caretaker. Both of you had to travel for your jobs so it was too hard to rely on each other to watch your mom.

“Oh yes hi!”

“I’m afraid I have some bad news, you mother is very sick, she just found out yesterday that she has stage 4 lung cancer, they….well they don’t know how much time she has left”

In this very moment your world stopped. This wasn’t happening, not this soon. Why? Why was this happening?

“W-what do you mean?” You stuttered trying to comprehend what she had said

“I’m so sorry Y/N, your mother is dying”

No. You didn’t speak. There was silence on both sides of the line. But then it hit you. Your adrenaline and panic pushed away your sadness and shock. You needed to get to her. You needed to get to her and fast.

“I-i um I’m gonna book a plane ticket, I will be there as soon as possible, can u um...can u tell her that please, tell her I’m on my way?” You needed her to know that you were going to be there with her

“Yes of course hun”

“Uh ok um thank you”

“Of course, I’m sorry sweetheart”

“I’m sorry too, good bye”

“Bye hun”

You hung up. You were trying to process what you had to do. Your brain was going a million miles per hour. You needed to call your sister, you needed to book a plain ticket, you needed to pack and call work. But first you needed to talk to someone, you needed to compose yourself. You needed to talk to your best friend, you needed Dylan.

You had met Dylan on the set of teen wolf, Dylan, you and Tpose instantly clicked and became inseparable. You continued to work with Dylan on The Maze Runner too. That was your current project, The Scorch Trials. You loved your job and wouldn’t change it for the world. But it was hard to be far from your family. Far from your mom. Guilt began to kick into your system. You were never there for her. Shit. You grabbed your phone again and called Dylan. After about 4 rings he picked up, you sighed in relief.

“Oh Dylan I need t-to talked to y-you” you could barely speak your sentence

“Y/N I’m busy right now” he said sternly

You were confused, shocked at his reaction. No matter how busy he was, the boy always made time for you.

“Oh um ok s-sorry” you said hesitantly

“Bye Y/N” he said before hanging up

You stood still, the phone in your hand as you stared straight ahead. You were confused but inevitably let it go because you had bigger stuff on your mind. You were disappointed that you couldn’t talk to him, and kinda hurt by his reaction. Whatever, you would call him later.

The rest of your night was spent packing and making calls. You called your director, Thomas, kaya, and Ki Hong, telling them you wouldn’t be at work for a little while. They understood and wished you luck, all of them apologized. You didn’t know why they did though, it wasn’t their fault. You remembered your fathers funeral, “are you ok?”, “how are you doing?”, “im so sorry”, “he was a good man”. These people who hardly knew you suddenly cared about you, about your well being. They spoke like they knew your father his whole life. It was disgusting. And when they asked how you were you didn’t know what to say, you weren’t fine, but would you say you were bad? Thinking back you probably said I’m fine at least 100 times that day.

By 1:00am, you were packed and ready to leave for your flight. Your flight was leaving around 8:00am. You needed some sleep. If that was even possible in your state. You climbed into your bed, trying to control your breathing. You didn’t sleep at all that night.

Dylan’s POV

I woke up, the light peaking through the shades. I groaned as I sat up and began walking into the living room. Jeez this place was a mess. I grabbed my keys off the kitchen counter and headed out the door. It was still dark out. On days like these I never bother changing out of my pajamas. It’s so early and we get into our costumes once we get there. No point in getting out of comfortable pjs. I got in my car and headed to work.

I pulled into my reserved parking spot, Y/Ns was next to mine, it was empty. Kinda strange, she’s always here first, always helping around on set. I headed to my trailer to hang out until they were ready for me in hair and make up. After about 10 mins I was called in. I arrived noticing that Y/N's chair was empty, we normally got stuff done together. We would talk the entire time. She has the best smile you know. Just lights up the whole room. Where is she? Oh shit, she called me last night. I grabbed my phone and called her back. Straight to voicemail. Weird. Maybe she is already on set, her phone is probably turned off. I settled into my chair as my make up artist got started.

After about 30 mins of hair and makeup I head onto set. Thomas and Ki Hong were already there, sitting in their chairs reading over the script.

“Hey guys” I said, they both looked up at me, they didn’t look very happy.

“Hey man” ki hong said

“Hi, you guys ok?” I asked sitting next to them in my chair

“Ya but it’s awfully sad about Y/N, that bloody sucks” said Thomas

I looked up, “wait what? What happened to Y/N? I didn’t see her around set, I was just about to ask you guys if you had seen her” I said frantically, now I was a little worried

“Did she not tell you?” Ki hong asked

“Tell me what? She didn’t tell me anything” I said

“Bloody hell Dylan, Y/N went to LA, her mom is sick, doesn’t have much time left, I’m surprised she didn’t tell you, you guys are like best friends right?” Thomas said

Dammit! Why didn’t she tell me?! Fuck Y/N. “I-I thought, I mean we ARE, I just- shit man” I didn’t even know what to do. I needed to be there for her. Someone did. I know Y/N, I know how this is going to go. First of all, she’s not going to be sad, she’s gonna hold it all together, lock it down in a box. Then that box is going to pull her down, and she’s going to spiral. She has a history with drinking and depression. Shit shit shit. It needed to get to her.

“I need to get to Y/N” I said

“Wait wait man hold up, you can’t just leave, it’s hard enough that Y/N isn’t here, we are gonna be behind” said ki hong

“Well too bad, Y/N needs her best friend right now, ok? You don’t know her, this is going to ruin her” I said passing back and forth

“You sure that she wants to see you, mate? I mean maybe she didn’t tell you for a reason” Thomas said

“I don’t give a shit ok? She’s going to destroy herself, dammit, tell everyone I’ve gone” I said grabbing my stuff and walking off.

Normal POV

You walked into the hospital room, your two aunts (your moms sisters), your grandmother (your mothers mother), and Elizabeth were all in the room. She seemed to be asleep so you quietly made your may over to your grandmother, hugging her tightly, trying to hold back the flood of tears that was threatening to come out. You hugged your aunt Heidi, your mothers older sister. You hugged your aunt Danielle, your mom's younger sister, then Elizabeth, thanking her for taking care of your mother. After greeting everyone you went to sit down next to your mothers bed. You grabbed her hand, everyone around you looked at you with pity in their eyes. Danielle gave you a small smile, then nodded her head toward the door, signaling for everyone to give you and your mom some space. You laid your head down on your mothers bed, still holding her hand tightly. You heard footsteps aas everyone in the room left to wait outside. Your sister wasn't here, she was coming very late at night. You missed her, you hadn't seen her in a while. You two were never the closest, she was 6 years older than you. She was popular and outgoing. You were sweet and smart. Your mom had had your sister in her late 30s. Now, your mom was only 68, she wasnt that old. She can't die. She can't leave you. You have your whole life. You wanted her to be there at your wedding, you wanted your grandkids to have a grandmother, for her to tell them stories. You wanted her to be there next christmas, next thanksgiving, next year, next decade.

You sat up, your cheek was wet with tears. Your mom helped you throw your hardest time. You had a past, a hard past. When your dad died there was a whole six months of drinking, and drugs. You barely left your house. You blame yourself. Your dad was your best friend. He was always there. And then he wasn't. You began crying again.

“Hey mom” you began “i know you're sleeping and you can't hear me but i think that i won't be able to say this when you are awake. I haven't seen you in a while, I was gonna ask you how you have been but I think I know the answer to that. I'm trying, mom, I'm trying to be strong but I can't. I have nobody, my sister barely talks to me, my best friend is even ignoring me. He's such a good friend though. You were always right ya know? I did always have a crush on him. Ya know i've been doing really well, thanks to him. Haven't touched a drink in a year. Dylan helped me a lot. I think that after these movies though…….i think that we will just lose touch. Or ill fuck up and push him away or something. Oh my god” you laughed at yourself “i can't believe i'm telling you this, i never tell you anything-” you voice cracked and the tears started to flow again. You had wasted so much time that you could have spent with your mom.

“I'm so sorry” you cried “ i love you” suddenly there was a loud beeping. No. “HELP!!!” you screamed “nurse! Please help me!” you cried

The nurses came running in

“Ma’am you have to leave now” one of them said

“I love you mom!” You screamed as they pulled you out of the room

9 hours later

You lay there, still, not moving a muscle. Barely breathing. It was probably the next day by now, meaning your mom had died yesterday. It was silent now. The crying had stopped a few hours ago, though you knew that no one was asleep. You hadn’t eaten in a day. Despite your grief and regret and guilt, you weren’t going to let yourself spiral, not again. You pushed your tired, shaking body out of your bed. You made your way to the kitchen. Luggage lay on the ground, your sister had arrived only one hour after the official time of death. You grabbed the coffee that you had made earlier. Pouring it into a mug and adding milk. You made it just like your mother did. Slowly your dragged yourself over to the couch and sat down with a plop. You turned the TV on, only to see that one of your movies was playing. And with that, you turned it off. You inhaled taking in teh sent of your mother’s house. She was just here, you thought. After staring off into nothingness for a few minutes there was suddenly a light knock at the door. Who the hell was at your door at 3 in the morning. You stood up, making your way over to the door. You took a breath before opening it. Only for it to be taken away again by who you saw standing on your doorstep.

“Y/N!” Dylan breathed out in relief. He looked tired, angry, and sad. But his eyes lit up when he saw you. He took in your figure, your puffy eyes, your messy hair, your clothes from the plain. You stared at him confused. He looked past you, looking for any sign that you were drinking or on drugs. He was snapped out of his thoughts though when you said his name. He loved the way it rolled if your lips.

“Dylan?” you said

“H-hi, Y/N I’m so-“ he started before you cut him off

“Come in, please” you opened the door wider

He nodded in response. He stepped in, hearing the door close behind him.

“Would you like some coffee?” You asked

“Y/N…”

“Dylan, would you like some coffee?” You asked again with a firmer tone

“No” he said plainly

“Okay then” you nodded and went to sit down on the couch, running your fingers through your hair

“Did she?” He asked sitting down next to you

You only nodded, he looked at you in pity.

“I’m so so sorry Y/N, I can’t imagine what you must feel like” he said

“Why did you come?” You asked, not making eye contact with him

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, daring to debate with you

“You were busy” you said simply

Dylan kicked himself mentally for not talking to you that night. After seeing you when your father died, how broken and hurt you were, he swore never to see you like that again. To always, always be there for you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I’m such an idiot ok? I should have been there, hell, I should have driven to your house the second I picked up the phone” he said shaking his head

“No Dyl. It’s ok to take time to yourself ya know? Your always there, I mean I haven’t touched a drink in forever, let alone a drug! And that’s thanks to you!” This was the best role you had ever played. You couldn’t blame him, but you were still mad, and hurt. All you wanted to do was fall into his strong, loving arms and cry. But no, you smiled sweetly at your best friend.

“H-how are you?” He asked

“Managing” you said

“How long?”

“Maybe 10 hours?”

He nodded “I was so fucking worried, I thought that you were gonna hurt yourself. I couldn’t live with the idea that I could have done something to help you, you make me crazy, in all ways possible, ya know?” He said

“I know” you smiled

“i came as quick as I could”

“I know dyl, I know”

He looked up at you with those sweet, adorable eyes, and hugged you. He squeezed you so tight you could barely breathe. You felt a cold tear run down your cheek, and you let out a sob. Dylan's heart broke into a million pieces, he hugged you tighter, if it was even possible.

The two of you stayed there laying on the couch, you in his arms. You stayed there until you fell asleep.Dylan watched you, you looked peaceful. God he loved you.

“God I love you” he said, kissing the top of your head “someday…someday I’m gonna tell you, and we’re gonna get married and have kids, and you’re gonna be happy.” He sighed, he leaned down and whispered into your ear, the three words you had been wanting to hear “I love you”

2 months later

“Y/N! Hurry up, he's here!” Your best friend yelled

“I’m coming!” You yelled back as you ran down the stairs in your gorgeous light blue dress

This was your first date with your best friend, Dylan. About a week ago he took you to the beach and told you he loved you. Just like a movie. Just like you had always talked about.

You saw hes cheesy smile when his eyes met yours, he looked so happy.

“Hey” you said smiling at him

“Hi” he said and kissed you on the cheek “what took you so long?” He asked as he escorted you out the door

“I was busy” you said simply

“Well you look gorgeous” he grabbed your hand “I love you Y/N, so fucking much” he kissed you and you kissed him.

“I love you too” you said

hehehe hiii i was wonderinggg what if you were dating ron but he got jealous of you flirting with lee jordan so hes fucking you pretty roughly to remind you who you belong to and lee walks in and it turns into a threesome but ends w ron breeding you?

heheh sorry if thats alot

pairing: ron weasley x reader x lee jordan 

warning(s): 18+, unprotected sex, threesome, oral (male receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, degradation, praise, breeding kink, cumplay

word count: 2.3k 

a/n: ron just makes me weak. he’s probably my number two guy in the harry potter universe right behind draco. and you can’t convince me he’s not a dom. he is. he’s daddy. anyways, this request literally blew me away and the addition of lee was just so good. i just hope i did it justice. enjoy!

It was the Gryffindor party of the year. The streamers were out, the Wealsey twins’ fireworks were exploding left and right, and the alcohol was flowing. You boyfriend, Ron, had just helped lead Gryffindor into winning what seemed like their millionth consecutive Quidditch Cup so him, along with the rest of the team, seemed to be the stars of the show. 

While the team was making their rounds, you stuck close to Lee Jordan, the twins’ best friend and the best Quidditch commentator around. You weren’t flirting exactly, but it was nice to have the attention of a man when your boyfriend was busy. Little did you know, Ron was keeping a close eye on you. 

“You look smokin’ tonight,” Lee told you genuinely, a drunk smile slapped on his face. 

“Thanks, you clean up nice yourself,” you said back, nudging into his side gently. 

Lee swung an arm over you and dipped his head low to whisper in your ear. “Too bad you have a boyfriend or you’d be coming upstairs with me tonight.” 

“Maybe I’d like that,” you added suggestively, scooting closer to him on the small couch by the fire. 

“Speak of the devil,” Lee said ominously, nodding his head in the direction of Ron, who was making his way over to you swiftly. 

He had to dodge a few people who wanted to drink with the winning Keeper himself, but he finally made him way over to you and grabbed your hand, hoisting you up off the couch without a word. Next thing you knew, you were being dragged through the party and up to his dormitory.

“What are you doing?” You asked giggling, unclear just why he was dragging you up here. 

“I could ask you the same,” he said once you made it through the door. He released your hand and spun around to face you and you could see the anger written clear as day over his face. “What the fuck was that downstairs?” He demanded. 

“I was just having a chat with Lee. What’s wrong with that?” You asked indignantly. 

“‘Just having a chat’”, he mocked. “You were two seconds away from fucking him right infront of everyone!” 

“Ron, you know I’d never do that. Don’t be like this,” you pleaded, even though a part of you knew you were in the wrong. But the facts were your boyfriend was ignoring you for a better part of the night and Lee looked really good. 

“It seems to me like someone needs a reminder about whose pussy this is,” Ron said, grabbing you by your waist harshly and using one hand to cup your core through your leggings. All you could do was whimper before he attacked your lips with his, backing you up until you collapsed down onto his bed. 

“Tell me who fucking owns you, Y/N,” he demanded, quickly beginning to strip you of your clothes. 

“You. You do,” you told him, trying to make him see reason before he absolutely destroyed you and you couldn’t walk for a week. But it looks like no matter what you did it would be no luck. 

Next thing you knew, your pants were around your ankles and your lace underwear was being pushed to the side as he lined his cock up with your core, already wet from a full night of being horny and desperate for cock. 

“Care to explain to me what my little slut is doing this wet? I know it’s not from me,” he commented, his eyes burning with fire. 

“I wanted you all night, Ron. Please,” you begged helplessly, although you knew it made little difference. 

A large hand came down to smack your clit forcing your body to jerk and for you to let out a yelp. “Don’t fucking lie to me. I know you’re wet because you’ve been practically dry humping Lee all night. Guess it’s just my job to remind you whose cock makes you cum,” he said roughly, plunging his cock into you in one harsh thrust. 

You let out a cry and gripped his arms, nails digging into his biceps and feeling them flex beneath your fingertips. His thrusts were vicious, his cock so deep inside of you that you could feel it in your stomach. He was hitting your g-spot with every roll of his hips, his pelvis rubbing against your clit and making you moan loudly. 

“Fuck, Ron. You feel so good,” you cried out, wanting to prove to him how much you needed him - not any other man. 

“Good, take it. Then we’ll see if you even dare to look at another guy when I bring you back down there,” he growled out, his hand coming up to wrap around your throat. 

Just as you let out another loud moan, the noise of the door creaking open caused both your heads to snap in its direction. Ron immediately went to cover you before he realized who it was, a smirk growing on his face. Without taking his eyes off the person in the doorway, he spoke directly to you. “You wanted Lee’s cock so bad, huh bunny? Well now’s your chance,” Ron said, tilting his head to invite your guest in. 

Ron pulled out of you just as Lee came into your vision and you swallowed harshly, unsure how to go about this. “Hi gorgeous,” Lee said with a wink, coming around to the other side of the bed. 

Suddenly, Ron flipped you over roughly, completely manhandling you until you were on all fours - your core exposed for Ron and your mouth right in line with Lee’s cock, the bulge obvious in his pants. 

You felt Ron’s cock trailing through your slit just as Lee went to undo his pants and you were simply trapped between the two men, no other choice but to comply with what was happening. Not that you were complaining either exactly. If anything, the entire situation made you that much wetter. 

“Go on bunny. I wanna watch you suck his cock while I fucked you,” Ron encouraged, continuously just dipping the tip of his cock into you and pulling back out, making you squirm. 

Finally, Lee had his cock out of his briefs and was stroking it languidly in front of your face, waiting for you to take the bait. Hesitantly, you opened your mouth and wrapped your lips around the tip, causing both boys to let out a groan that reverberated around the room. 

Ron rocked into you roughly, forcing your whole body forward and your mouth to engulf Lee’s entire cock. You gagged around him, his hands coming to grip your hair to keep you down until you couldn’t breath before he let you back up. 

“She feels so good, mate,” Lee commented to Ron over your body as if you weren’t even there. You were just their plaything right now, and that was something you could do well. 

“Trust me, I know,” Ron said, a cockiness in his voice that wasn’t usually there caused by how turned on he was seeing you pleasure another man. He knew all too well what you were capable of. “You hear that bunny? Keep making us feel good,” Ron coaxed, his hips returning back to their fast pace from earlier, rocking your whole body up and down on both of their cocks. 

“Doing so good gorgeous. Fuck, look at you,” Lee mused, his fingers trailing down your face. 

Your eyes flicked up to his and you had to let out a moan at how dominant Lee looked above you. You were relishing in being dominated by these two men who turned you on so much. It was the perfect culmination of the events of the night and the coil in your stomach was growing tighter and tighter with each passing moment. 

You doubled down with enthusiasm on Lee’s cock, wanting to get him as close as possible before your inevitable release that was creeping up on you far too quickly. 

“Look at my little filthy slut. You fucking love this don’t you, Y/N? You love showing someone else how filthy you can be for me, huh?” Ron asked, leaning down so his chest was pressed to your back and his lips were trailing along your shoulders. You tried your best to nod, but Ron gripped a chunk of your hair and pulled you off of Lee’s cock easily. “Use your words, bunny,” he said roughly, his thrusts never faltering. 

“Yes, fuck. I love it. Fuck, I’m so close, Ron please,” you exlaimed through unashamed moans, voice trailing off into a whine the longer he held your head back. 

“You think she deserves to cum tonight?” Ron asked Lee pointedly, once again going back to ignoring your presence despite how much pleasure you were giving both of them. 

“Not sure, she was a naughty little thing tonight,” Lee mused, his cock rocking in and out of your mouth as he spoke. He seemed like he was totally unaffected as he continued. “She told me that if she didn’t have a boyfriend she would have come up here with just me tonight, isn’t that right gorgeous?” Lee informed Ron, teasing you in the process. 

“Course she did,” Ron said, the annoyance heavy in his tone.”She’s just a little whore who wants attention, isn’t that right?” He asked, a hand coming down with a loud crack on your ass, a yelp fighting to come out of your throat as you gagged around Lee again. 

“Ron, please,” you begged, panting harshly. 

“You better fucking wait and hold it until I fill you up, do you understand me?” Ron asked, his hand snaking around your throat again. You could only whimper before Lee’s cock went right back into your mouth, hard and heavy on your tongue as you worked your hardest to get him off before you. 

Your legs were trembling on the bed and the only reason you were still upright at all was because of Ron’s unwavering grip on your hip and throat. 

You could tell Lee was close when you felt him twitch on your tongue, and it was only a moment after that you tasted his cum explode inside your mouth while he groaned your name. You continued your ministrations until he pulled out, waiting until he made eye contact with you before you swallowed it all down harshly. “Fuck,” Lee mumbled, looking down at you in awe.

“Such a good slut, swallowing him all down like that,” Ron commented, having felt the way your throat bobbed underneath his hand. He was only pounding harder, making it that much harder for you to hold off your inevitable orgasm and your whole body was trembling and sweating now. 

“Please,” you whined again, out of breath and desperate for release. 

“Tell me what you want, bunny. Use those pretty words,” Ron mused, pulling you up by your throat until you were both balanced on your knees on the best with his chest pressed closely against your back. 

You turned to look at him, back in your bubble of just you and him, before you began to beg in earnest. “Ron please, cum in me. Need to feel it. Fill me up, please,” you begged, your hips grinding back into his with every thrust. 

“Fuck, bunny,” Ron rasped out, growing close to his own release. “Cum for me and I’ll fill you so deep. You’ll be dripping for fucking hours when I’m done,” he said, spewing promises and permission all in one breath. 

You came with a cry, vision going white as your body exploded. You were trembling in his arms, incoherent noises falling from your lips and your eyes squeezed shut. When you felt his cum filling you up, it was almost like a second orgasm going through you, your body tensing and releasing again with such a force that you thought you were going to collapse. You were so full of it that it was leaking out around his cock, trailing down your legs and onto the sheets. You rode out both your orgasms, your hips grinding down on his cock until you couldn’t take it anymore, falling back against his chest. 

When your hooded eyes finally found Lee’s form again, he looked like he’d just seen a goddess in the flesh. “You look incredible when you cum, gorgeous,” Lee praised, unable to take his eyes off of you. 

You gave a breathless chuckle, unable to give either of them any words right now. 

Ron caught his breath well before you and pulled out, letting his cum leak from your and down your legs. He gently pushed you forward until your hips were raised so he could watch it spill out, trailing his fingers around your slit to collect as much of his own cum as he could. 

Lazily, he brought his fingers up to your mouth. He didn’t even have to prompt you, you immediately took his fingers into your mouth and sucked off every last drop. His eyes glazed over again, already ready for round two, but Lee spoke up before either of you got carried away. 

“That was fucking incredible,” he said, making your eyes snap back to him. He was already redressed completely and clearly wanting to give you two some space. “If you ever want a third again, you know where to find me,” he added with a wink before departing from the room, causing you and Ron to chuckle. 

“Was that all okay with you?” Ron asked hesitantly. “I know you would have said something but I never really asked,” he said, sounding guilty. 

“That was fucking incredible, Ron. I had fun and you know I trust Lee,” you told him genuinely. “But I really just want you to myself now,” you said, a playful smile coming to your face as he laid down beside you. 

“Good cause I don’t think I’d be up to sharing you again for a while. You’re my girl. My perfect, slutty girl.”

Note: this was a commission I got from a supporter on ko-fi. I hope that you’ll read it with the same enjoyment I had while writing it. If you want to commission or support me check the pinned post or the hyperlink, you’ll find all the details there. If you have questions, my DM is open 🤗. Also, your comments are always welcomed.

Promt: Wesker forgets about the reader’s birthday.

Pairing: Wesker x F!Reader

Word count: 2K

Type: fluff.

Wesker placed the samples with care on the table, starting his day as usual. He’s been spending his last few years, stuck in the lab researching all over again in order to achieve the wanted results. Since Uroborus is a high importance plan, he’s very meticulous about his schedule, respecting every minute precisely. Not a minute early, not a minute late. The only thing that he tries to put outside his schedule is you because he doesn’t like limiting the time he spends with his sweetheart. He cares so much about you that over the years he sees you as his equal, so he plans to inject you with the progenitor virus, a weaker strand because he can’t risk killing you. Because of this, he wants to do it on a special day, but the many opportunities that arrived didn’t fit in his schedule. The greatest gift he ever received was the power he got after breaking the confines of humanity, so he wants you to experience the same joy. Wesker kept thinking about it but he would get distracted by his work, so his present would always be in the planning stage. He doesn’t want to do it suddenly, he wants to introduce the idea slowly to you because he respects your boundaries.

Once you earned his respect, Wesker can be a very carrying partner, human even. He knows every little detail about his sweetheart, from her birthday to what she last ate. It can seem creepy when you put it like this, but this is nothing more than a lover who deeply cares about his partner and seeks to make her happy. Wesker is not the greatest at showing it though because of his work life. He has little to no time to show his affection. He still shows you that he is there for you, but not as much as he wants, making him more frustrated. Sometimes when he comes home from work he is so tired he barely sees you, let alone talk with you. He either collapses on the couch or bed and falls asleep as you talk with him because he is just too exhausted to carry the conversation. This doesn’t sit right with him because he gives all of his attention and energy to his work and doesn’t have any left for the only person that matters to him, making him wonder if it’s all worth it.

The relationship didn’t have a great start, since you expected Albert to be with you at least 8 hours a day but you’re lucky if you catch him once a week. He’s not the type to express himself and constantly expects others to read his mind, so you two would end up fighting. You have mistaken the lack of presence as rudeness and indifference, basing your reasoning on all the rumors you heard until you realized they were all stupid. Wesker proved to be the contrary, talking so nicely to you and not belittling you at all even if you piss him off. The amount of respect this man offered you even from the beginning is astonishing. He was so transparent with you and with all he does and he had so much patience until you understood. He was just a working man with probably burnout syndrome, so you took the responsibility to take care of him.

His phone buzzed since he started his work. Calls, messages, idiots without brains, as he calls them, needed help doing their job. When he had enough he picked up his phone and started to scroll down through notifications. Some of these people make him curse like a sailor, especially the one who texted him the most. As useful as Excella is in helping with his projects, as annoying she can be. Hundreds of messages and calls, some related to work some not. A particular question caught his attention.

“Do you think y/n would like this?” A picture of a purse was attached. Excella can’t stand you for obvious reasons, but out of respect for Albert, she tries to be friends with you. Still, why would Excella buy something for you out of the blue?

“Is something special today?” He thought.

The horrifying grimace when the realization hit cannot be described. Today is indeed a special day, your birthday. To be honest, he doesn’t care about birthdays. He despises them because they are a reminder of our mortality, but he knows how much you care about such occasions. Every year you got him something even if he insisted not to buy anything for him. Seeing you care and how much you enjoy receiving gifts he changed his mindset. Usually, he would give you something common, just as others would, but then he began to put more effort until there wasn’t anything material in this world to give. That’s how the progenitor virus gift arises in his head. However, he’s been so caught up with his research on Uroborus that he completely forgot to make the preparations. You don’t feel the days pass when you’re stuck in a lab all the time. He puts the phone aside, grabs his coat, and rushes out of the building ignoring the people that are trying to talk with him. If not the virus, he will have to find something common.

He’s not a fan of last minutes gifts but he has no choice. The guilt crushed him further as he remember he hasn’t talked with you all day. The ride to the jewels store felt like ages, even if it was relatively close. Luck was on his side since he found the store open.

None of the jewelry in front of him caught his attention because it wasn’t something he hopes of giving you. He already buried you in gold. You have the finest, unique, and expensive jewels in the world. He wouldn’t have been injected you in a lab of course. He wanted a special place for your rebirth. All of his ideas were put on paper, but probably got lost in the pile of reports. All he wanted was to see you smile on the most important day of your life, perhaps looking at him with the same eyes as his. He wanted to make you feel as you were the center of his universe, his queen, but he failed miserably. Maybe if he had gotten any outstanding results today he wouldn’t be so upset, but it was just another ordinary day. The lady tried talking with him but he was lost in his thoughts. Knowing it’s late and that you’re waiting for him, he bought a pearl necklace and left in hurry. On his way home he tried thinking of what to say, what excuse would be the best but he concluded that all of them were outdated.

Before opening the door, he hid the small package in the inner pocket of his coat. That lady was in hurry to close the store and didn't want to wrap the necklace if gift wrap. Wesker will remember that.

“I’m home!” He shouted once he entered. He may screw up, but he is not a man who runs away from conflict or a man who doesn’t own his mistakes.

“I thought you’d spend the night in your lab.” She said while giving him a peck on his cheek. “You need a vacation dear, you’ll be worn out before your time”

You were so carrying with him, so kind, but he couldn’t enjoy it. He didn’t deserve your kindness.

“There is something I need to tell you.”

“About?” You were starting to get worried. He left in hurry this morning and you didn’t hear anything from him all day. Excella told you briefly about him, but she talked more about the purse she bought for you which was more for her taste, not yours. Judging by his face you realized he had something on his mind, but you would never think it was because he forgot about your birthday. You expected him to talk about an outbreak rather than your forgotten birthday. To your surprise, he started apologizing.

“I was so caught up in my work I-“ he considers apologies a waste of time since we could do better things with our mortality and limited time, but for a reason, humans care about these.

“It’s alright my love.” You caress his face as a reassuring sign. “I understand.” You’re not upset at him. He genuinely cares about you and you can’t judge him, not after all the good things he has done for you. And besides, you know he doesn’t fully mean it, but you appreciate that he still does it for the sake of your feelings.

You began to caress his cheeks, to place small kisses all over his face. You see him rarely so you make sure to show him how much you love him as well. You hug him and he instantly hugged you back. After a while, you broke the hug and lead him to the couch so you can talk about each other’s day. He’s thankful you both moved on.

Eventually, you two got more comfortable. You let all your weight fall over his body as his strong arms were wrapped around your torso. His big hands were caressing your back while you found your peace in that small, almost suffocating, clasp. You almost fell asleep when a gentle squeeze woke you.

“I almost forgot.” He said, almost whispering, before handing you your gift. “It’s not what I had planned, but I hope you’ll find it enjoyable.”

Hazily, you took the small box Albert handled to you. It was a normal, jewelry box with the logo of the store on it. Inside there was a beautiful, shiny pearl necklace. Your delicate fingers touched the pearls with care, feeling their gritty texture and small bumps here and there. It weighs heavy in your hands. You fell in love instantly with the accessory. Seeing how happy you are, Albert offered to put it at your neck. Its elegance enhanced your natural beauty. It looks like it was made solely for you, like an extension of your body.

“I bet it was a lot.” You said with a somehow sorrow in your voice. You don’t want Albert to spend heavy money on you, because it’s his presence that you enjoy and value the most.

“Don’t worry about it, I like spending money on you.” And it was true, he loves dressing you in the most expensive clothing to flatter your body. You’re a goddess to him. Not to mention it strokes his ego to know that he’s able to provide such beautiful things to you. “At least this is what I can do.”

“And it’s perfect this way.” You can see him relax a little.

“I’ll make it up to you, I just need some time.” Time, mortality, death. Once again he was reminded of his plan that was supposed to fix humanity's greatest flaw, and his expression suddenly changed. That didn’t get past Y/N’s attention.

“Albert sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, some problems I need to solve.”

“Are they urgent?”

“Yes, very.”

“I’m sure they can wait until tomorrow.”

He scanned your body carefully. You weren’t getting any younger. Time left its mark on you. Not in an unpleasant way, but still noticeable.

“There something I need to tell you.” He said while sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you how you admire your new necklace. In the lights of the vanity mirror the pearls shine brighter, being more appealing than before making it impossible to take your eyes off them.

“What is it?” You said while gazing at your own reflection.

He choose his words carefully, but no matter how he put them, it could scare you. It’s not the time or the place. He doesn’t want to ruin your happiness. His actual surprise might not sit well with you, but it’s not your choice after all. If he considers it the best option for you he will do it regardless of your opinion. Still, this day came out better than he expected.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Tags: @xx-sectumsempra-xx @residentzero2028 @heisentitties (dm if you wanna be in the tag list)

There isn't enough appreciation for Elrond's and Isildur's friendship.

I think much of this comes from the movies, where our only image of Isildur is his 'no' and Elrond yelling 'Isildur!', and then we see him die because he dives into the river while running away from a battle because the One Ring falls from his finger. Sure, there is some scroll Gandalf reads, but it only makes Isildur seem even more obsessed with the Ring than he already seemed. Add to that Aragorn's rambling about how he and Isildur share blood and weakness and you've got the perfect receipt for evil Isildur and 'cast it into the fire' memes.

Movie!Elrond's 'men are weak' really isn't helping.

So to start with, I think it is necessary to say that I am talking about book!Elrond and book!Isildur here, and while I don't recall either of them calling the other friend, it's a headcanon I have and it is to some extent supported by the books.

In the chapter The Disaster of the Gladden Fields in Unfinished Tales, Isildur shares a few exchanges with his son, Elendur, that I would like to show here.

Elendur went to his father, who was standing dark and alone, as if lost in thought. 'Atarinya,' he said, 'what of the power that would cow these foul creatures and command them to obey you? Is it then of no avail?'

'Alas, it is not, senya. I can not use it. I dread the pain of touching it. And I have not yet found the strength to bend it to my will. It needs one greater than I know myself to be. My pride has fallen. It should go to the Keepers of the Three.'

And later in the chapter:

'My king,' said Elendur, 'Ciryon is dead and Aratan is dying. Your last counsellor must advise, nay command you, as you commanded Ohtar. Go! Take your burden, and at all cost bring it to the Keepers: even at the cost of abandoning your men and me!'

'King's son,' said Isildur, 'I knew that I must do so; but I feared the pain. Nor could I go without your leave. Forgive me, and my pride that has brought you to this doom.'

Earlier in the chapter, we also get this passage talking about Isildur:

When he at last felt free to return to his own realm he was in haste, and he wished to go first to Imladris; for he had left his wife and youngest son there, and he had moreover and urgent need for the counsel of Elrond.

Nearer to the end of the chapter, when talking about Isildur's death, Tolkien writes this:

There suddenly he knew that the Ring had gone. By chance, or chance well used, it had left his hand and gone where he could never hope to find it again. At first so overwhelming was his sense of loss that he struggled no more, and would have sunk and drowned. But swift as it had come the mood passed. The pain had left him. A great burden had been taken away. There he rose up out of the water: only a mortal man, a small creature lost and abandoned in the wilds of Middle-Earth. But to the night-eyed Orcs that lurked there on the watch he loomed up, a monstrous shadow of fear, with a piercing eye like a star. They loosed their poisoned arrows at it, and fled.

And last from this chapter, this bit about the Ring itself:

It was little more than two years since it had left his [Sauron's] hand, and though it was swiftly cooling it was still heavy with his evil will, and seeking all means to return to its lord.

So what does this tell us? And in addition, where was I coming to with Elrond & Isildur friendship?

1. For all of Isildur's refusal to give up the Ring after the war ended here:

'Alas! yes,' said Elrond. 'Isildur took it, as should not have been. It should have been cast then into Orodruin's fire nigh at hand where it was made. But few marked what Isildur did. He alone stood by his father in that last mortal contest; and by Gil-galad only Círdan stood, and I. But Isildur would not listen to our counsel.

' "This I will have as weregild for my father, and my brother," he said; and therefore whether we would or no, he took it to treasure it.

- The Council of Elrond, Fellowship of the Ring

Isildur realized he was wrong. The Ring was still at its most evil, and it wanted to corrupt him, it wanted to go back to Sauron, yet Isildur resisted enough to be able to almost give up the Ring willingly or at least consider it.

When he was slain, he was already taking the Ring to Elrond. Whether he would have the strength to do it later, he resisted the Ring enough to at least consider it. How many would be able to do so? Of course, there was the factor of the very touch of the Ring paining him, but compared with the Ring's will, that's hardly enough to convince a man to give it up.

And at last, when the Ring slipped from his finger, he did not dive after it. He gave it up, and swam away; and even as the orcs killed him, they killed him a free man.

2. He was bringing the Ring to Elrond. At the very beginning I said this post is about Elrond's and Isildur's friendship, and finally, I am talking about it.

It should go to the Keepers of the Three, Isildur says of the Ring - and for that, he would have to know who the Keepers are, or at least know of someone who knows. And it is said repeatedly that he seeks Elrond's counsel, that he goes to Imladris; did he know Elrond has Vilya?

The location of the Three is one of the greatest secrets kept from Sauron, and it is said many times that almost no one knew of it. Did Isildur know, suspect? In addition to this, Elendur seems to have the same knowledge, which, as he is repeatedly called Isildur's greatest confidant, isn't much of a wonder.

All in all, Isildur either connected the dots well enough to realize that out of all high elven lords, it is Elrond bears a ring of power (and Isildur is clever, this is a possibility); or Elrond was not careful enough and Isildur figured it out from his missteps (which, considering Elrond's experience with cursed jewellery isn't very likely); or Elrond gave him hints on purpose; or he just. Straight up told him.

The last two options seem to be most likely to me, which brings me to Elrond trusting Isildur enough to reveal such a secret to him, which leads me to my Elrond and Isildur are friends agenda.

Should the first option be true, props to Isildur for figuring it out by himself without any clues from Elrond other than him being important. Should Isildur be bringing the Ring to Elrond in hopes that Elrond knows who the Keepers of the Three are, without knowing Elrond is one of them, it still shows Isildur trusted Elrond enough to bring him the Ring even for temporary keeping.

(there is also the matter of whether Isildur knows the other Keepers of the Three, as he mentions them a few times, but never enough to indicate if he knows who they are)

3. Parallels. It is said that Elendil and Gil-galad, the two high kings of their people are friends. Is it really so unlikely that Elrond, Gil-galad's herald (and possibly heir, even though he took no crown), and most trusted advisor besides Círdan; and Isildur, the heir of Elendil the Tall and his second in command, would strike a friendship?

The Isildur we are presented with is both bold and wise - he saves the fruit of the White Tree of Númenor alone because it needs to be done, and then he does it again, and he does it because it's the best for his people. He takes the Ring, and tries to make it listen to him, and realizes he made a mistake; he tries to fix it, and wants to bring it to Elrond.

The Isildur we are presented with has courage, and wisdom, and hope.

Do you know what does this remind me of?

Edain. Their ideals. The reasons why they got the gift of Númenor, greater wisdom, longer lives.

They resisted the evil, no matter how strong; they were loyal, true to their beliefs, brave and courageous.

Elros was chosen as the king of the Edain and really, I highly doubt Edain would choose him as a king just because of his heritage, or because someone told them to do so. Sure, someone could have pointed out Elros to them and say 'hey, look at this dude, he could be a nice king, what do you think?' but in the end, while they might start following Elros because someone else told them, I doubt they would let themselves be led by someone who wasn't the best representation of them. In Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth, Andreth does not shy away from telling Finrod her beliefs, the beliefs of her people. And I don't think that changed with time.

What am I trying to say? I think Elros and Isildur were both similar in many ways, in ways that made them the leaders they were - and that in a way, Elrond saw Elros in Isildur, as well as himself; for Elrond still connected strongly with his mortal kin, and as I mentioned earlier, their political positions were similar.

And while Isildur was his own person and had done things neither Elros or Elrond would have done, and had his own good and bad qualities, it doesn't erase the similarities.

4. Aragorn was raised in Rivendell, by his mother and Elrond and his people. Of all the people there, it is easy to see which ones would influence him the most: Gilraen, Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir. It is repeatedly shown how close he was to them. To some extent we may include Glorfindel, for they were friends, but not as much as the above mentioned four.

Now, as Estel, he wasn't aware of his heritage. He is shown to be proud of his heritage, of his descend from Isildur; and yes, this could be a simple pride in one's ancestors. It could have been that he simply liked Isildur as a historical legendary figure and it became greater after he learnt of his descend from him. Or it could have been that he was told many tales of Isildur, of his deeds and personality, and his family, and decided I want to be like him, and like Elendil, even without knowing he was in any way related to them.

And really, when it comes to the above-mentioned people, who would be the most likely to tell him stories of Isildur? Gilraen who only knew him from stories, or Glorfindel who was never mentioned around Isildur in the books, or Elladan and Elrohir, born after Isildur's death, who could have any number of first-hand stories about hundreds of Aragorn's cool ancestors but not Isildur himself?

All I am saying is there is a potential for Elrond to be telling stories of his old friend Isildur and Elendil and Gil-galad to Estel, and Estel loving them.

There is also the fact that in the chapter The Disaster of the Gladden Fields, Elendur, Isildur's son, is said to be very similar to Aragorn. And I love the idea of Elrond's and Isildur's sons paralleling each other, in a strange way, thousands of years apart.

5. In the books themselves, we do no see Elrond speaking about Isildur much. (I checked almost every mention of Isildur in most of my Tolkien books. So yeah.) On the Council of Elrond, Elrond talks about Isildur the most, but it is mainly in historical manner and 'the Ring should have been destroyed that day' manner, as you can see in the passage from the book I mentioned above in point 1.

This doesn't tell us much about their relationship, much less their friendship - and thus as a source for my image of them as friends, I give the place to The Disaster of the Gladden Fields, thinking they would make a good duo, and the potential of how Isildur's death may have had affected Elrond.

Isildur's death was unexpected. No one expected the road not to be safe - there is a reason why Isildur and his men were unprepared for a battle. They were simply journeying on a familiar road, to Rivendell and then Arnor. Not even the Orcs that ambushed them knew of the Ring. In Rivendell, they learnt of what happened only thanks to Ohtar, Isildur's squire who survived; and even then, the specific circumstances of his death were not revealed until Aragorn found Elendilmir and the chain which bore the Ring among Saruman's things.

In all honesty, I don't think even Elrond knew Isildur planned on giving him the Ring. I do not doubt he expected him, for his wife and youngest son were in Imladris - but I found no reason as to why he might know of Isildur's plans with the Ring.

That could give him a reason to speak ill of Isildur, couldn't it? Yet when he speaks of him, he only speaks of facts and what should have been done - he doesn't call Isildur too weak to give up the ring, or power-hungry, or proud - and by the latter, Isildur calls himself several times (as can be seen here, in the passages I used above)

It needs one greater than I know myself to be. My pride has fallen.

And here:

Forgive me, and my pride that has brought you to this doom.

And yes, it was a formal Council - Elrond had no reason to speak of his personal feelings towards Isildur. Yet I think the little he said reflects his thoughts well. He might have felt some bitterness towards him, especially as he later learnt what the Ring's nature truly was; and especially as he had no knowledge of Isildur being willing to give the Ring to him, for better or worse, whether he would find the strength to do so or not.

Still, once Elrond learnt of the Ring's Nature, I think he might have understood Isildur better - especially as he himself did not dare to even touch the Ring.

DRINKING SHOTS WITH CHRIS AND LEON

Synopsis: To fulfill a promise, you brought some Vodka to drink. But you never expected the evening to end like this...

Characters: Leon Kennedy; Chris Redfield; Reader

Warnings: some alcohol; fluff

Words: 1.631

You slammed the bottle onto the wooden surface between the two guys who were sitting at the bar counter. As they both looked up, you grinned, holding three shots in your hands, "Like I promised, drinks are on me.", you said, sliding in the gap between the tall men: Chris Redfield and Leon Kennedy.

Chris smirked and quirked a brow with an amused expression while Leon turned over to you, almost matching Chris' glance as he looked at you as well, "You don't really want to do this, my sweetheart.", Leon said with an arrogant smirk.

You looked up at Leon with a lopsided smirk and a challenging glance, "First of all, I'm not your sweetheart. And second, that was the deal. After this mission, drinks are on me. It was our first big mission together. We have to celebrate that.", you pointed out, reminding these two of the promise you had given to each other.

Leon shook his head slowly, "Look, we're both grown men and you're-"

"I'm what, Kennedy? Huh? I'm what?", you asked challenging, crossing your arms over your chest while waiting for Leon to end his sentence. You already knew how some were seeing you: as a little girl who wasn't fitting into this kind of job.

Chris shook his head to signal Leon to shut up. The last thing he should do was to answer this question if Leon wanted to live long enough to see the end of the night. So, like a real friend, Chris jumped in to help, "Look, what Leon wanted to say is that we... We want to protect you-"

Chris thought himself as smart but he wasn't what let you smirk. Slowly, you turned over to him, smiling at him sweetly, "Protecting? Me? You two?", you asked before you laughed loudly. As you calmed down, tears were filling your eyes and running down your cheeks while you had difficulties to breathe properly. You laid your arms around Chris' and Leon's shoulders, even sitting they were both taller than you, "Boys, don't you dare to forget that I saved your sweet asses, alright? You wouldn't be here right now if it wasn't for me."

"Oh, come on! You know that's not true!", Leon argued but as you looked slowly at him he became silent. In fact you were right. The last mission had been a bit tricky and you were right. You had watched out for them with your sniper rifle as it became extremely dangerous. One by one, you had brought BOWs down as if you were picking apples from a tree. Leon nodded and pointed at the unlabeled bottle, "Alright, alright. We owe you something. What have you brought us to drink?"

You grinned devilish, "Vodka. The...good one. At least, I got told that you would like it."

Chris and Leon changed a knowing glance while you watched their faces fall in realization. Leon was the first who recovered, "No...", he breathed, shock mirroring in his eyes what amused you.

Then you looked at Chris who had the same expression in his eyes. You put the shots next to the bottle, "Yes.", you said serious.

"No.", Chris whispered and shook his head slowly.

"Hell yes.", you said again. Both men watched how you took the bottle to open it. You removed the cap before you poured the clear liquid elegantly into all three shots.

You couldn't know that but Chris and Leon had a 'past' with this certain liquid in this certain kind of bottle. As they first drank that stuff, they had experienced the worst hangover in their entire life while Dima, a guy who had helped with a mission and who had brought the alcohol afterwards, seemed to be unimpressed, at all. But maybe, it was just a coincidence and this bottle came from someone else... At least, Leon hoped that. There was no way you could know Dima, "But... Where.. where did you get that from?", Leon asked fearfully.

"Dima.", you answered meaningfully and watched how they both stared at each other, "Boys, don't be shy. Come on.", you said while taking one of the shots. Reluctantly, they followed your lead. You touched glasses and swallowed the alcohol. As you were done, the boys were still staring at their glasses, "Wow, you drink this or are you staring at the glass to get it empty?"

Leon and Chris swallowed their drinks with a grimace. You looked back and forth between them with a big grin, "And? Was it this bad?"

"It's still disgusting.", Leon said with a raspy voice, shaking himself.

Chris reacted the same, "Yeah. I'm still sure this isn't for drinking rather for cleaning something.", Chris whispered.

You took the bottle to fill the glasses once again, "Maybe, the next shot will be better.", you suggested.

"No, not for me.", Chris said.

But you ignored him, "We can't stop after the first shot. One more, Chris, please.", you asked pouting while shoving the other shot to Leon.

Chris looked at you and somehow, you were able to convince him, "Okay, but just one."

*

Several more shots later, Chris clinged to you like a huge, cuddly teddy bear, "You're so sweet, yn.", he slurred what caused you to chuckle, swaying slightly on your chair by his weight. Leon watched the two of you amused with a stupid grin and shook his head about his silly friend. He knew Chris would regret all of this the next day. If he would remember this, at all.

You looked pleadingly for help at Leon but he just raised his hands in defense that he was powerless. It had been your idea to give Chris alcohol and now, you had to deal with the result of your glorious plan. The tough, tall and stern man became a bundle of emotions if he got something to drink.

Chris leant stronger against you and placed his heavy, muscled arm around your shoulders to bring you closer, "You shouldn't be a part of my team!", Chris whined suddenly, switching his mood from happy to emotional within a second.

"W-what? Why not? I'm good-", you slurred.

"But you're so young! Like my sister. Yn, you could be my little baby sister.", he cried out and hugged you stronger, trying to protect you from the world.

Suddenly, Leon straightened himself, knowing exactly where this could lead, "Chris, it's enough.", he said grinning but with a demanding undertone.

Chris slammed his hand on the table, "No! She has to hear it! Yn, if something ever happens to you, I couldn't forgive myself. You hear me? You're too precious. You shouldn't do this job."

"Alright, Chris. That's enough. Come on, we will bring you to bed.", Leon demanded, swaying as he got up. He laid one of Chris' arms around his own shoulders while he tried to get that heavy, broad guy up from the chair. You helped on the other side, slightly swaying on your feet but together, you were able to bring Chris to his room even if you needed longer than necessary.

"No, I'm not tired. I don't wanna sleep!", Chris protested as he fell on his bed. He bounced a bit up and down but Leon pushed him down back on the mattress as Chris tried to stand up again.

"Good night, Chris. Sleep well.", Leon said.

You already had reached the door as Chris spoke up once again, "Leon, you have to watch out for yn! Take care of her. And I don't mean just tonight. I know you like her. You two belong together."

Even if it was hard to understand, you had heard every single word. You wanted to ask Chris something but he was already asleep. He was sprawled on his bed and snoring like a bear. Silently on your tiptoes, you and Leon left the room.

In the hallway, you walked to the opposite wall, leaning against it with crossed arms and avoiding Leon's eyes, "You wanna tell me something?", you asked, eyes glued to the ground.

Leon approached you slowly, fighting to get a clearer mind for this kind of talk but the alcohol was still a thick cloud around his brain. He stopped in some distance from you, "Yn, he's drunk. He doesn't know what he says-", he started but stopped, searching for the right words which was more difficult in such a state.

"Is that true? What Chris said about you liking me?", you asked, slowly looking up.

Leon held your glance, staying where he was and said nothing, not sure how this could end if he said something wrong. Inwardly, he cursed about Chris' loose tongue when he was drunk.

You instead wanted an answer. With wobbling knees, you stepped closer to Leon, stopping right in front of him. His eyes were boring into yours as you looked up, "Leon, please, is that true what he said?"

Leon raised his hands and cupped your face carefully before he leant down to kiss you very softly almost innocently with his thumbs caressing your cheeks. You could still taste the Vodka on his breath. Like a lightning, the sensation shot through you. But before you could deepen the kiss, Leon removed himself from you, looking into your eyes, "Go to bed and sleep. If you wanna talk about this, we'll do it tomorrow.", he whispered, turned around and walked down the hallway to his own room.

Dumbfounded, you watched after Leon. You were too drunk to run after him but your mind was clear enough to tell you that the next day, you would have to talk with Leon. And maybe, when your body had processed the alcohol properly, you could understand the feelings you had noticed since the moment Leon had kissed you.

Getting To Know Them || Slasher x Reader Bf/Gf Scenarios Pt 2

Jason Voorhees

When you woke, you were lying in a dim living room. The windows were boarded with thick, rotting oak planks and the doors were bolted shut. The only light left to illuminate the room was a small lamp on the old, rustic coffee table in front of you. Beneath you was a somewhat scratchy couch, clearly taken off of someone's front line with a paper labeled "free to take" on it, or from some dump. However, you were thankful that it at least wasn't the creaky wooden floor instead. You scratched at the rope around your wrists, loosened from being wriggled around and messed with.

You sat up and allowed your vision to re-adjust, and saw the same man in flannel and ski-mask in an arm-chair on the other side of the coffee table. He didn't seem to notice your awakening, or he at least didn't acknowledge it. He was reading a book with a maroon cover, and you couldn't make out the small copper-shaded title. You studied his movement. He was calm and showed little emotion in his body language, simply reading in peace.

In a split second, you decided to break the peace and silence. "Who are you?" The man put down the book in his lap, but only looked up at you for a moment, silent. You could see him think, then make a few hand gestures. You came to the realization that it was ASL, but you never really learned the language, despite your interest in it. You saw him take a deep breath and get up, grabbing a pen and a notebook off a table to the side. He slid the items onto the coffee table before you and slowly unbound your wrists. You wrote your question out again, "Who are you?" and slid it around for him to see. He read it, and wrote quickly, in slightly messy handwriting, "Jason. any more questions?" and slid the items back.

From here, you two went on for hours, listing out questions on the notebook and answering them for each other. You filled out pages and pages, ranging from basic questions to things like "what was your childhood like?" Certain things like that, he would pause and then write that he didn't want to talk about it. Through the night or day (due to the lack of natural light, it was hard to tell,) this game went on.

Michael Myers

Though you tried your best and struggled and squirmed, the man who had taken you still had gotten you tied to a chair; where you sat with a belt tying your wrists to the wooden beams, thankfully with a cushion underneath your rear. You shut your eyes for a second and groaned, throwing your head back. You always thought of yourself as strong and independent, a fighter who didn't need help from anyone. Alas, this was one ass you couldn't kick, and you hated yourself for it.

Across the kitchen, the bright lights shined on the tiled floor, and a tea kettle whistled ceaselessly. The sound of running water stopped as the man who had taken you walked from the bathroom and into the kitchen. The man dried his hands on his pants and took the kettle off the burner, shutting the flames off. You observed him take two random mugs from the cabinets above, and place them on the white countertop. He carefully poured the tea into the two cups, and a light herbal smell filled the air. After a moment, you recognized the smell of hibiscus tea. This was a familiar smell, something your aunt made every morning when you spent the night at her house in the summers between school years.

The man walked over and brought the two cups with him. A low, slightly muffled, silky voice came from behind the mask as he slid a mug across the table to you. "Careful, it's scolding." The tall, built man walked across and unbuckled one of your arms from the chair for you to pick up the mug with. "Drink." He said, before taking a seat before you. This is when he slid the mask off, to reveal a face beneath that you never would have expected. Dark brown, shaggy, messy, wavy hair fell over his forehead, and he blew it out of his grey eyes. His face was scarred and his lips were chapped, but it somehow wasn't unappealing or revolting.

"What's your name? Who the fuck are you?" You asked, leaning as far as you could with your restraints still intact. The man pushed his hair back and sighed heavily, sipping the near boiling tea. "Michael. 24. Libra." He said in a monotone voice. You rolled your eyes. "This is an introduction to your victim, not The Dating Game." You told him harshly. "Well, is there something specific you wanna know? It's not like your giving me anything to go off of, sugar cube." 'Michael' replied with the same energy in return. "Fine. I'm (Y/N). What else is there to say?"

Carrie White

Like the pale girl suggested, Carrie if you remembered correctly, you came back to the public library next Sunday, around noon. You had finished the book you had most recently checked out, so you had to return it anyways. Walking down the pavement, you saw here in a light sundress, walking up the few steps and into the library. You ran to catch up and followed her, careful not to startle the girl. As soon as you got inside, you carried yourself to just behind her, and tapped on her shoulder.

The girl turned around, and a look of confusion appeared on her features. "(Y/N). We met here last week? I suggested you check out Narnia." You reminded her, an eager smile painted on your face. A spark formed in her eyes, and she returned your smile. "Oh! Yes, yes, I remember. I'm sorry, my mind is awfully clouded lately." You assured her that it was alright, and you two went along.

The two of you walked down the aisles of bookshelves, and she looked for something new to try out. Maybe she would check out a cook-book and try a new recipe, or read up on WW1. Although, you DID notice that she avoided the religious aisle. However, you didn't comment on this, out of respect. You two checked out a few books, and on the paved outdoor steps, you stopped her. "Would you like to go for coffee or tea? Even a pastry? There's a little shop down the street, I'll buy. I'd just like to talk a bit.

Carrie obliged happily, and the two of you took your books and walked down to the small cafe. It had a dim, rustic theme, and brought peace to anyone who entered it's walls. There was a faint vanilla sent in the air, welcoming you two. For about an hour, Carrie sat down with you and talked about your life, your week, basic things. It was nice to get to know her. She seemed kind, and gentle. Everything about her was graceful, from the way she sipped her latte to the way she tucked her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. As you two finished up your chats, you grabbed your things and greeted each other farewell, agreeing to meet again next week.

Jennifer Check

The pair of you had become half-decent lab partners over the last few weeks, but she didn't seem to be doing well with the subject. As a result, you decided that you would volunteer to tutor her in the subject after school. So, there you were, on your way to her house after school to hang out and help her study up on the subject and with the homework. It was a cloudy day, and you could tell that a storm was brewing in those clouds above your head. Because of this, you decided to walk a bit faster to avoid being soaked.

As you arrived at Jennifer's house, you knocked gently on the door. When you received no answer, you hesitantly knocked harder. Very suddenly, a slightly older woman answered the door, assumingly Jennifer's mom. The woman looked you up and down, then quickly turned to yell over her shoulder, "Jenny! Your new friend is here!" She then quickly invited you in and brought you a small tray of white-chocolate macadamia nut cookies, offering you to take one or two ((If you have an allergy to nuts, then M&M cookies.)) "I made these for you two while you were studying. There's also sodas in the fridge in case you need a drink." Jennifer's mom said joyfully, before scooping the strap of a purse onto her shoulder. "I'll be off now, I have a job interview to get to. Jen's room is upstairs, first door on the right. Have fun you two!" She informed you before heading out the door.

You walked up the stairs until you found an oak door, and knocked before coming in. "Uh, hi, it's (Y/N), I'm here to help you study..?" You said as you slowly walked in and shut the door behind you. Jennifer was standing, looking in the mirror and smearing concealer under her eyes. She sighed and looked over to you. "Sit on the bed. You know, I was gonna gut you like a fish and drink your blood like a Slurpee, but my mom seems to like you, and I don't think you're too bad. Shame, would have been a great opportunity." She said nonchalantly. As she turned to you, you saw that her face was pale and broken out in acne.

Your heart skipped a beat and the color drained from your face. "I'm sorry, w-what...?" You tried to gulp down the fear in your words. "I'm a succubus, idiot. Don't think that I didn't notice you staring at the blood on my shoes the first day we met. I feed on people's bodies and sexual energy so I can feel good and look good. But I've decided you're worth keeping around, so I'll save that for the next chump. So, shall we get to know each other?" She said calmly as she sat down beside you on the bed.

Billy Loomis

You were home alone yet again, but this time it was mid day. You were watching horror movies out of boredom on your couch, when you got a call. You hesitantly answered, to hear a familiar voice on the other side of the phone. "I'm here, come let me in." You carried the phone with you. You figured one of your friends had stopped by to say hi, and their voice just sounded messed up due to shitty reception. You went to your front door, and looked through the peephole to see someone in a shitty costume, probably from Walmart, as it was October, and stores were starting to sell Halloween costumes and decorations. You hung up the phone and stuck it in your pocket, opening the door slightly with the chain lock still intact.

"Cut it out, prankster. That's not a very creepy costume. Ooo! I'm so scared!! Listen, I've seen the original Japanese film The Ring a million times, I'm not too scared of much." You heard the person sigh and push the door forward aggressively, breaking the lock. You jumped back in shock. "Hey! You're paying for that, asshole!" You yelled only for a quick response. "No, I don't think I will, beautiful. The man said, taking off his mask. To your shock, it was someone that you went to school with, Billy Loomis. You remember him graduating just the year before you, and were a bit shocked at his sudden appearance. You two had talked a bit, and you could consider yourselves acquaintances, but never really close friends.

Billy took a step forward, and in turn, you took one back. He put his hands up, showing he had no weapons in his hands. "Look, I'm not gonna hurt, that's not what I came to do. I just want to...get to know you. Look, you can pat me down, if you really feel the need. I don't have any weapons on me." You lowered your defenses a bit, but still kept them up. "Why would you want to know me so bad?" You asked hesitantly. "Well, I looked through your window and realized I'd found you again. And I wanted to get to know the pretty (girl/boy/person) I used to look at in the hallways every day." He said in a smooth tone. And that's where your night started.

Thomas Hewitt

It was a lovely Texas summer day. A warm breeze carried through the semi-tall grass in the fields, and the smell of fresh bread filled the small wooden house. On this fine afternoon, you happened to be listening to some old music, from the 50s-60s, and baking. When you least expected it, you heard a loud knock on the door. You figured it might have been one of your new neighbors looking to get to know you, or ask to borrow something. You strolled to the door and opened it, to see a rather large man in a butcher's apron, curly dark hair, and a rather scarred face on the other side. Though he had somewhat of a threatening aura, you knew that there was more behind his appearance.

You saw him open his mouth, but then stop and think for a moment. He hesitantly put his hands up and made a few broken and hand signals. You realized quickly that it was sign language, as you had an uncle growing up that happened to be deaf, so you learned it so that you two could talk. "I'm not deaf, I just don't like to speak." You watched him sign apprehensively, and responded allowed. "That's okay, hun. What can I do for you?" You asked, and he thought for a moment. "Do you have some salt I can use? Papa shot a..." He stopped for a moment, then looked back up to meet your eyes. "Papa shot a deer, and we ran out of salt to dry out the hide and season the meat." He asked, and you replied. "Of course! Come right in, I keep a few bags in the cupboard, I have a half-full one you can take home." You told him as you allowed him to come in and shut the door behind him.

Your bread sat warm in the window-sill, cooling down. As you handed him the salt, he pointed over to it. "Oh, do you want a piece?" He nodded aggressively, and you smiled. You grabbed the metal baking sheet and put it on the counter, slicing a few pieces. "Here, you can have more than one. I make it all the time, and it's just me here to eat it anyways." You told him. "Would you like to sit down and chat for a moment? I can make you tea or coffee too if you like? You can tell me about yourself. That is, if you don't have to be home right quick." The man nodded again, and set the salt down on the counter. "My name's Thomas. I'd like some...Peppermint tea, if you have it." The man signed to you, his guard down as he clearly felt welcomed in the household. "Okay, Thomas, right on it." You smiled warmly and handed him a thick slice of warm bread with butter and mulberry jam smeared over the top. "Take a seat, dear."

____________________________________________

~Author's Note~

Hi guys, I'm so sorry it took so long to get this second part out :( I've just been really stressed and not in a great mental place, plus the factor of writer's block and being scared to burn myself out. But thank you for those who have stayed through the hiatus to continue reading!! Please comment below if you have any character or scenario requests. Goodbye for now, loves!