#I’m just throwing shit around and hoping it sticks

[ilguna]

☼ for the better (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; the capitol ruined the one thing you were looking forward to seeing when you finally got free of their prison. and now, you have to work through what they’ve done to help the rebels.

warnings; swearing, torture mention, drug addiction, panic attack description, vomit.

wc; 5.5k

--

“They’re going to the Capitol, (Y/n).” Johanna whispered to you last night, face squished to the crack in your door. 

You sat straight up in your bed, eyes wide and staring ahead, afraid you’d just hallucinated. You didn’t move, waiting to see if she would repeat herself. Right when you thought she’d left, you watched her shadow reappear through the frosted glass, cheek pressed against the frame.

“And they’re going to leave without us.” She continued.

You hesitated, hand gripping your blanket, ready to throw it off to go meet her at the door to ask her what the hell she’s thinking. How did she know you were awake? Finnick surely wasn’t, it was well past midnight, you should’ve been dead asleep. You had half the mind to go back to bed in hopes that she’d leave, but the other part of you wanted to go check on her to make sure she wasn’t losing her mind.

You gently wiggled out of Finnick’s grasp and carefully tiptoed across the compartment to your door. During the day, it usually opens automatically like they do in the Capitol, but the feature is disabled at night in case there are wanderers. 

You pushed the door open a little and found Johanna with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She looked deranged, as if she belonged in a locked padded cell. Her eyes were large, desperation swimming in them when she leaned forward. How she snuck out of the hospital in this state is beyond you, because they run a tight ship down there.

It was unnerving to see her this way, it reminded you of Annie’s odd behavior after she won. But that could be written off with reason, Johanna showing up at your room door couldn’t be explained. At least, not right at that moment.

“What?” You asked, face twisted. You tried to stick your head out of the door to get a look in the hallway, curious if she was alone. “What are you doing out here? Do you know how late it is?”

“Is he awake?” She asked, ignoring your questions.

“No, he’s sleeping, like I should be right now.”

“Come out here.” She motioned, stepping back to give you space.

You sighed, taking a look at Finnick over your shoulder. He hadn’t stirred quite yet, but you knew it would be a matter of time before he noticed you were gone. He hasn’t let you out of his arm’s reach since you came back from the Capitol. You were sure your conversation with Johanna wouldn’t take long, so you stepped out and quietly shut the door behind you.

As you wrapped your arms around your body, you looked her over. She didn’t seem to be doing too hot. She was shaking like a leaf in high winds, her skin a pale green color, and it looked like she was barely holding onto reality when she spoke.

“What is going on with you?” You asked, motioning to her demeanor. “We’ve hardly spoken since we got here.”

“Who’s fault is that?” She raised her eyebrows, but there was no hostility in her tone. “I’m going through withdrawals.”

“I told you that morphling shit would make you wind up like this.” You shook your head.

“I didn’t come here to get lectured.” She told you sharply. “They’re going to the Capitol.”

Your face twisted. “Who’s going?”

“A whole group of volunteers. They’re planning on raiding the Capitol since District Two joined the rebellion.”

You looked away from her, trying to remember if this had been mentioned to you by Finnick or not. He’s gotten close to Plutarch as of late, mostly due to a certain speech he delivered to Panem a couple weeks ago. It seems as if they’ve finally realized just how valuable Finnick can be to the movement.

“When was this announced?”

“Katniss found out today, after she had gone to talk to Peeta.”

“From who?” You asked.

“Haymitch.” She said, shaking her head. “President Coin doesn’t want any of us to go, especially not Katniss. I didn’t get an invitation, and I’m sure you didn’t either.”

You squinted at her. “I’m not sure…” You trailed off, wanting to tell her you’re not sure you want to storm the Capitol. You just came from there not too long ago, and the way they treated you—the way they treated Johanna and Peeta—was enough for you to decide to never go back. 

Not until the rebellion was over, at least.

In fact, you had told Finnick earlier in the week you’d be more than willing to sit this one out. You’re terrified of them capturing you again, because no one knows what President Snow would do to you this time around. 

“You have to go.” Johanna let go over her blanket, letting it fall to the floor. She suddenly grabbed your shoulders, giving you a shake. “We all have to go. We have to show him that he didn’t get the better of us.”

“Johanna, I am not fit to go into the Capitol.” You told her, watching her face carefully, slightly afraid her explosive attitude would show up. “I’m not in shape to be a soldier and march through the city. You remember what I looked like before the Quell. Now look at me.”

You held out your arms to give her a better look at your body. You had more weight on you then, mostly because you’d spent months bulking up and gaining muscle in preparation. It’s all gone now. The Capitol deprived you of food and strapped you to a chair for almost a month straight. You were lucky you were able to walk when the rescue mission volunteers found you. 

And the diet here in District Thirteen isn’t helping your cause much, either. They’re on a strict ration. They had a bigger portion for you when you first came here, but it was only because they wanted to get you to a healthier weight. Once they realized you were in the ideal weight group for your height and weight, your portions got smaller. And that’s right around the time you knew you were never getting back to where you were before the Games.

“They have a training program.” Johanna told you eagerly, she was waiting for you to bring the topic up. “Katniss and I checked it out. It starts at seven tomorrow morning—or this morning.”

You shook your head at her again, trying to discourage the idea that you were willing to do this. “I don’t want to go.”

“I heard Finnick’s going.” She blurted, and then her hands weren’t holding you in place anymore. She straightened like a plant of wood, losing more color in her face, which you didn’t even realize was possible. She began to resemble a corpse.

Your face dropped at the news, turning to look back at your compartment door. He wouldn’t, would he? He just got you back, so why would he go into the Capitol and risk his life? Is that why he was so happy when you said you wanted to stay in Thirteen?

“Who told you that?” You asked Johanna, tone impatient.

“Haymitch. He told me not to tell you, Finnick wants to keep it a secret. Plutarch convinced him, though. He said it’ll look good in the propo’s.”

It could’ve been true, it sounded exactly like something Plutarch would say.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“You can ask Katniss during training tomorrow. She was standing right next to me.” Johanna raised her hands up, surrendering. She didn’t want an argument, she wanted you to have the full story.

The issue is that Katniss wouldn’t lie to you, and Johanna knows that. While Katniss cares about preserving relationships as best as she can, she’s broken some of her own rules when it comes to you. When you met her a couple months ago in the Capitol, you were convinced she didn’t like you.

It was only a couple days after the rescue when she sought you out. She seemed pretty starved of conversation when she pulled the chair up beside your bed. At the time, she’d been on strict orders not to speak due to what Peeta had done to her the night you arrived, but she didn’t care.

The first thing she did was ask you how you felt. And then she told you Finnick missed you a lot, she’d never seen him so quiet and lifeless before. She told you he’d been sedated for a good amount of time following their arrival in Thirteen. As soon as you and Peeta made your first appearance on television in the Capitol, she made sure he was awake and alert going forward in case there were any more broadcasts to follow.

“He loves you.” Katniss said quietly. “I don’t think Peeta loves me that way anymore.”

Katniss felt like a little sister to you at that moment. The state she was in made your heart twist in your chest. She didn’t have much of a childhood to begin with, and what was left had been torn from her entirely. Her sister was reaped, she volunteered, outsmarted the Gamemakers in the Games and won with a boy she’d known for a long time, but wasn’t sure what to do with her feelings.

When you saw them together for the first time during the Quell, you knew the rumors about their relationship being all for show was fake. It might’ve started that way, but it wasn’t going to end that way. She was still learning how to love him, in time she would get used to the feeling. 

She was robbed before she got the chance.

“He’ll come back to you.” You told Katniss. “If there’s even a fraction of the old Peeta in there, he’ll claw his way out.”

Since then, Katniss has made a point to make sure you know she’s on your side. She wouldn’t risk putting that friendship into jeopardy over a lie, right? 

You knew you had to find out for yourself. You sent Johanna away last night, telling her you’d have to figure a few things out first before you made any commitments with them. It was good enough for her. She picked up her blanket and disappeared into the dim lights.

You could hardly sleep next to Finnick, just knowing there was a possibility he’d been hiding the truth from you. It was even harder not saying anything to him this morning before he left to meet Haymitch and Plutarch in the Control Room. You didn’t want to jump to conclusions—not before you had the chance to speak to Katniss first.

It better be worth being up this early. 

You stand with your arms crossed over your chest outside the door Johanna had told you about last night before she left. The clock on the wall tells you there’s only five minutes before the class starts. You press your lips together as you watch teenagers enter the door beside you.

Right as you’re beginning to think they changed their minds about the Capitol, they appear. Johanna looks as awful as she did last night, maybe even worse. Katniss is out of breath and clutching her ribs, which had been bruised in District Two after she got shot by a loyalist.

A peek at the clock tells you that you only have two minutes to sort this out.

“You showed!” Johanna says, out of breath.

You ignore her, looking at Katniss. “Is what she said true? Finnick is planning on going to the Capitol.”

Katniss makes a face, likely because she doesn’t want to pit you and Finnick against each other, but nods. “He’s already been in training with Gale.”

You look away from them, chewing on the inside of your cheek. You know you should have a conversation with Finnick before you make any decisions. And even if he confirms the training himself, you still don’t want to sign yourself up to go to the Capitol. 

It’s not appealing in any way.

“We have to go inside.” Johanna says, going to the door. “Are you going to come?”

You look down at your arm, finding the schedule District Thirteen has given you for the day. It’s just a bunch of classes, learning stuff about the bunker you don’t necessarily care about. As soon as the rebellion is over, you’re going home. Maybe you’ll come to visit, but not for a long time.

“I guess.” You sigh, following her.

Inside, you’re surrounded by young teenagers, a telling sign this is a beginner class. Just one look at your friends’ faces tells you they didn’t realize the three of you would be placed here, so you let it go. You know you’re rusty, but you can’t be that rusty, right?

You can, it’s entirely possible. 

You spend a good ten minutes stretching your muscles, getting you ready for the strength exercises that have been prepared. You get through these fairly easily, because they’re nothing you haven’t done before. All you do is drop the weight from what you were at previously, and you skate by fine.

Johanna seems to keep up with you, but Katniss is a different story. It’s clear she’s in pain every time she moves. And when the five-mile run outside is announced, the expression on her face just drops. Johanna tries to keep her motivated, but after the first mile, they seem to be done.

“I can’t do it.” Katniss gasps, hands hovering over her ribs. “I’m going to talk to the trainer.”

She limps off, leaving you and Johanna to wait for her. You begin to shake your head as soon as Katniss’s back is turned to you. “This is a stupid idea, really. She’s not healed yet, and you’ve got the shakes.”

“I can handle my shit.” Johanna says back. “I want to go to the Capitol.” She crosses her arms. “You’re a liar, by the way. You said you were in no shape to do this.”

“I thought we’d be in a more advanced class.” You tell her, tilting your head. “I’m not a beginner.”

“We have to work our way there.” She tells you. 

You look away from her, not speaking for a long minute. “That’s if I stay.”

Johanna sighs loudly. “(Y/n), even if you don’t go to the Capitol, you should be joining us. You spend all your time kissing Coin’s ass and for what?” A teenager passing by gives Johanna a dirty look. “Oh, bite me.”

“I don’t kiss Coin’s ass.”

“Then why are you sitting in her classrooms, following her schedule?” Johanna motions to your arm.

“I don’t have anything else to do.” You shrug.

Johanna motions to the outdoors behind her. “Now you do!”

You shake your head at her, getting tired of talking to her about this.

Her voice is more calm. “We used to be close and we’ve barely seen each other since the Games, you’ve said so yourself. Who says you can’t build up your muscles while hanging around?”

“Johanna, I’m not making any commitments until I’ve talked to Finnick.” You tell her, causing her to roll her eyes. “But I’ll think about it.”

She waves her hand, she must be tired of you, too. Katniss comes back, thankfully, holding up a paper between her fingers. “I’m going to the hospital to get treatment for my ribs, Soldier York wrote it up for me. I told her I’d be back for this afternoon’s training session.”

“I will not.” You tell them immediately. “I’m going back to my compartment.”

“You won’t stay to run the rest of the four miles?” Johanna asks, her tone disappointed. 

“Nope, I’m good.” You start to back away. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Thanks for coming.” Katniss waves. 

“Have fun with your rib treatment, I heard it’s hell.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” She tells you.

You leave after this, entering the door to the bunker. At the elevator, you’re searched to make sure you’re not taking in anything that’s not allowed. When you try to ask what wouldn’t be allowed, they wave you in. 

You get sent down several floors, until the elevator stops. You step out, and wander around the bunker, eventually winding up at your compartment door. Finnick shouldn’t be out of the Control Room for another hour, so when you open the door, you don’t expect to see him sitting on the bed.

He’s got one leg hanging off the side, the other tucked beneath his thigh. There’s a notebook in his hand, he’s slowly flipping through the pages. It looks like he’s not really reading, just skimming what’s on the pages.

“Hey,” You murmur, he looks up from what he’s doing.

He closes the notebook, setting it on the bed. “Hey, honey. I thought you’d be in history class by now.”

“I skipped it.” You tell him, stepping inside to shut the door behind you. There’s no need for everyone in your hallway to hear what you and Finnick are going to talk about. “I actually decided to go somewhere else this morning, because of what Johanna said to me last night.”

Finnick’s face twists. “Johanna came by last night?”

“It was actually really early this morning.” You tell him, leaning against the wall. “I’d say about two.”

He’s confused, lifting his shoulders to shrug.

“She said it’s been confirmed there’s a group of volunteers being sent to the Capitol. In fact, some people have been training this entire time.” You tell him, lips pressed together.

Finnick closes his eyes, letting out a sigh. “(Y/n).”

“When were you going to tell me?” You ask, throwing a hand out. “I have to learn from a line of people you’ve signed yourself up to go there? You didn’t think that was a decision to make together?”

“You didn’t consult me when you volunteered for the Quarter Quell.” Finnick says.

You can feel your jaw set. “So that makes it okay for you to hide this from me? I did my time for volunteering—I spent weeks in the Capitol learning from it.” Your face twists. “Are you trying to punish me? Is that what this is?”

“No, (Y/n).” Finnick’s voice is softer.

“Then Plutarch manipulated you into doing it then, like he’s done before.”

“I can make my own decisions without Plutarch.” Finnick gets to his feet. “I’ve been listening to their strategies. It’ll be fine, I’m sure I won’t be put into any real danger, anyway.”

“Then what’s the point?” You ask.

“I can’t just sit idly, (Y/n).” He shakes his head. “Not after what Snow did to me for years. I thought you of all people would understand.”

“I do.” You tell him, nodding. “So, if you’re going, I’ll go too. And we can just beat Snow down together, then.”

Finnick’s face changes, “That’s not a good idea, you just got back from the Capitol. You told me a couple days ago you wouldn’t want to go.”

“That was before I knew you’d be leaving me here.” 

—

The conversation didn’t end well with Finnick last night. You kept going in circles on whether or not either of you should go. 

He was really stuck on what you’d said to him earlier this week about not wanting to go to the Capitol. It was the main point of his argument, that there was nothing wrong with the fact you wanted to stay home, and he thought you should, anyway. You’ll be safer in Thirteen.

You were trying to tell him you want him to stay with you. While he does want to show the Capitol they don’t scare him—the truth is he should be scared. What they did to you… they’ll double it. They’ll triple it after the broadcast he made live telling Panem President Snow’s greatest secrets. 

He was so close to getting your point about the safety, but he didn’t want to listen. At the end of the night, after hours of going at it, he wished you luck during training. He told you that you, Johanna and Katniss were so far behind, you’d be lucky if you were able to go to the Capitol at this rate.

You know he was trying to discourage you, which is exactly why you got up at seven this morning to meet your friends at the door. And both of them look like shit. You don’t even realize it’s Katniss and Johanna until they’re stopping in front of you.

“What happened?” You ask, looking between them.

Both of them have deep bags beneath their eyes, Johanna looks worse than she did yesterday. 

“It was a long night.” Katniss says.

“That’s an understatement.” Johanna mutters. “So how’d it go with Finnick?”

“He’s stubborn.” You tell them. “I’m stubborn. He wants to go but doesn’t want me to go. I don’t want to go and he doesn’t want to stay.”

“So…?” Johanna asks.

“So, I’m going to make him miserable and go to the Capitol.” You tell her.

Johanna’s face lights up, and it takes everything in you not to smack the look off her face. You motion for them to go through the door first, Katniss jumps forward, turning the handle and throwing it open.

Your heart seizes in your chest. It’s raining buckets outside, and it probably has been since last night. The entire outside area is already flooded, dirt has turned to watery mud. It’ll be a matter of seconds before you’re soaked to the bone.

You try to swallow the tight feeling in your throat, hands shaking at your side. Johanna seems to have the same reaction, hesitating. She got it just as bad as you did in the Capitol, just a different way. 

Katniss looks between the two of you. “It’s just water. It won’t kill us.”

You eye Johanna, finding a certain determination come over her face. She grabs your wrist in an iron grip, pulling you out after her. The moment the rain touches your face, you know it’s only a matter of time before a meltdown comes. You rub your chest with a closed fist, trying to get the impending doom feeling to leave.

Soldier York starts from the beginning, having you repeat a lot of exercises from yesterday. You try to focus on pushing yourself to your limit, because then you can blame your shaking body on exertion, and not the fact you’re barely holding yourself together.

When it’s time to run the five-mile course again, you line up alongside Johanna and Katniss, but at the pace they’re going, you’ll be stuck outside forever. So, you wish them luck and abandon them half a mile in, trying to distract the rising attack.

The rain pelts the bare skin on your upper half, since you abandoned the top of the jumpsuit at the compartment so you could get more air today. You just about overheated yesterday, so you tried to think ahead, never imagining it would be raining. 

As you suck in another breath through your nose, desperate for air but not desperate enough to stop for it, rain water makes its way into your system. The familiar burning sensation starts, forcing you to try and stop in your tracks. Your foot hits a slippery spot of a puddle, and you find yourself on the ground, soaked in mud and water.

The lightheadedness begins, you suck in air like a fish out of water. As you turn over to get up, you nearly slip again. You stumble over to the nearest tree, hand against the bark to keep you upright as you stare down at the greenery below you. 

You know you need to calm down, that’s what the doctor in Thirteen told you. It’s the same advice Johanna was given, but it’s not that simple for you. While she can drag her ass out into the rain—you can’t. You haven’t. 

The rain is pounding on your backside, hair drenched and sticking to your skin, streams of water sliding down your face. 

In the middle of catching your breath, your breakfast comes back up without warning. You cover the grass and fern beneath your feet in oatmeal and fruit, which is what was served at breakfast this morning. You cough out the gross stuff that’s still your mouth, wiping your face with the back of your hand. As soon as you stand upright, the dizziness comes back full force, making you stumble back and slip in the puddle from before. 

The world goes dark.

When you open your eyes, you’re in the hospital. There’s a monitor beside your bed that’s beeping, the lights have been dimmed to let you sleep, and your blankets are pulled up to your chest. When you look around the room, you find Finnick at your bedside, head and arms resting on the bed, completely knocked out.

You raise your hand, reaching over to caress the back of his head. 

This is your fault. If you’d listened to the head doctor here in Thirteen, you’d be on a better path. Instead, you opted for the easy way out and the shorter recovery sessions because you didn’t want to face what they’d done to you in the Capitol. You didn’t want to admit to your worst fears.

Finnick urged you to keep going. He told you that you’d feel fine up until the moment you weren’t. So far, you’ve been managing the panic attacks that come, and you take care to avoid the triggers. You knew the rain was a risky move, but Johanna didn’t leave you much of a choice. 

Besides, you figured if she could do it, then you could too. She has the exact same fear you do now. They just took it a step further for her by electrocuting her. While you—you were strapped down, defenseless. They waterboarded you because they knew it would do the most damage.

Coriolanus Snow knew it would ruin your identity. 

He knew you thought of yourself more than just a victor. While other Career victors consider themselves champions because of the title, you never did. During every interview and every speech given about you, you made sure they introduced you as a District Four citizen first.

You take pride in where you come from, because you can’t imagine growing up any other way, you’ve spent your entire life in water. Since you were able to walk, you were taken to the beach, you were swimming in the water, you were fishing in a boat.

And they stripped that life away from you, one waterboarding session at a time.

They made District Four sound like a nightmare.

You’re not entirely sure what your plan was after the rebellion. You knew you’d need more help, but you didn’t want it. You didn’t want to see the head doctor four times a week, just for him to tell you that it’ll take time to heal. It’s the last thing you wanted to hear.

You don’t have time. He was talking years in those meetings, suggesting that you’d stay in Thirteen until you felt fit enough to leave. The rebellion will hopefully be done in the next few months at the rate you’re going, you’re not willing to stay any longer than you have to here.

It’s not home. 

You were hoping you’d just be able to forget it. If you stopped talking and thinking about it, then it would eventually go away. It seemed to work for most of your problems, so you didn’t see why it would be such an issue here.

You can feel a tear running down your face, you brush it away with your shoulder. As soon as you sniff, Finnick stirs. You remove your hand from the back of his head, watching him sit up in the chair. He seems tired, but blinks away the heaviness while he takes your hand in his.

“How are you feeling?” Finnick asks.

“I don’t even know.” You admit. “Defeated, maybe?”

The corners of Finnick’s mouth turn downwards. “You can’t let him win.”

“He already did.” Your eyes fall to the bed. “Look at what’s happened to me. I can’t even go out in the rain—you know how much it rains in Four?” Your lips tremble. “I can’t go home.”

“You can.” Finnick tells you, squeezing your fingers. “I’ll make sure of it.”

You shake your head.

“I’ll go to training with you, if you want.” He offers, thumb rubbing over the back of your hand. “We’ll get through it together.”

“You don’t even want me to go in the first place.”

“It’s not that, (Y/n).” Finnick sighs. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to go back there.”

There’s a beat of silence. “So you’ll just abandon the Control Room?” You ask.

“They don’t really need me in there, anyway. I’d rather be with you.” He lifts your hand to kiss the back of it. “I’d always rather be with you.”

“You say that now, but you’ll be regretting it tomorrow.”

Finnick smiles, “We’ll see.”

—

Johanna and Katniss are waiting in front of the training door when you show up with Finnick. There’s a mix of emotion on their faces, you gave them no warning you’d be bringing Finnick with you.

“You’re going to be disappointed today.” Johanna remarks, crossing her arms over her chest. “We’re in a lower class.”

“I know.” Finnick tells her, tilting his head down at her. “No fault but your own.”

Her eyes narrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Read into it.” Finnick says, placing a hand on your back. “I’m not here to criticize, (Y/n) wants me here.”

Her eyes switch to you, and you can tell exactly what’s going through her head. She’s calling you a traitor. Finnick kept a secret from you, so why would you want him out here? You’re supposed to be trying to prove a point.

“Then you’ll be able to keep an eye on her for us.” Katniss muses. “We can abandon the leash.” She nudges Johanna.

“Yeah, whatever.” She’s disinterested.

“Don’t take it personally, Johanna.” You sigh. “This isn’t about you.”

“We could’ve combated it together.”

“Look at how that ended yesterday.” You hold your arm out. “I can’t do that approach.”

Finnick clears his throat. “The training’s about to start.”

“Good.” Johanna says, stomping off. 

She swings the door open, revealing that it’s raining again. It’s not nearly as bad as it was yesterday, but you’ll be wet by the time you’re done this morning. Johanna hesitates for merely a second before she goes out, Katniss follows quietly.

It’s starting already, the pounding in your chest, the sweaty palms. Finnick can see this, he takes your hand in his, massaging out the fist you’ve formed. “Just take it slowly. Soldier York knows to start with you. She’s going to do the exact same thing she did yesterday.”

“I want to be out there.” You tell him. “I want to be there when she starts.”

“Let’s go, then.” Finnick says, gently ushering you forward. “What’s the part that got you yesterday?”

“Breathing in the water, being soaked.”

“That used to be your favorite part.” Finnick says, you’ve stopped in the doorway, observing what the trees look like today. “You used to drag me into the rain, wanting to dance, singing our district song.”

He brushes your jaw with his hand, probably wanting you to talk.

“It’s natural, (Y/n), and it’s not here to hurt you.” He reminds you. “This rain has no intention. Snow has intention.”

“I know.” You murmur, clutching onto your jumpsuit’s sleeves. 

You step out into the rain, it’s much more gentle than yesterday, but it doesn’t stop you from fearing you’ll have a repeat of yesterday. Finnick’s beside you, though, taking every step slowly, making sure you’re okay before moving on. He doesn't let you power through like you’d done yesterday. 

You manage to keep up with Soldier York’s class, and this time it doesn’t feel like the world is closing in on you. By the time the five-mile run comes around, you’re feeling a lot better. Finnick reminds you that as long as you feel like you can handle it, then you should absolutely push yourself.

About three miles in, Finnick’s pace slows, wanting to catch his breath. You stop too, hands on your knees, taking deep breaths. Finnick brushes your hair back, which is surely tangled. Last night, the nurses worked to fix your hair. Today, they told you to tie it up so it wouldn’t nearly be as bad. 

“How are you feeling?” Finnick asks.

“Good.” You nod, standing up straight. “Thank you, Finnick.”

“For what?” He laughs, wiping water off your face.

“For being beside me.” You pull him closer. “I’m sorry about the other night. I just—I don’t want Snow to ruin you like he did with me.”

“Honey, you’re hardly ruined.” Finnick gives you a quick kiss. “This is something we can work through, and by the end of it, you won’t even remember what happened.”

“It’ll be a distant memory.” You breathe, pressing your head to his chest.

He wraps his arms around you, squeezing. “A distant memory.”

[moonwateraura]

“Almost”

(Van Palmer x Reader — Pre-Crash Bonfire, Slow Burn, Yearning, Tension)

The woods behind the school were already lit with flickering firelight, the air thick with smoke, pine, cheap beer, and teenage noise. Someone had dragged out a speaker, blasting grungy ‘90s alt-rock. People were shouting over each other, dancing badly, daring each other to do dumb shit.

You were standing near the edge of it all, nursing a soda and quietly people-watching, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands as your eyes scanned the crowd. You weren’t exactly anti-social—you were just selective. You liked to hang back, observe, and let the chaos unfold in front of you like a movie.

Van saw you the second she got there.

She was in her usual worn-out jeans, an old band tee, her denim jacket slung over her shoulder. She pretended to be looking for someone else, laughing at something Taissa said, but she kept her eyes on you like you were gravity.

You were standing in the firelight, hair catching the glow, looking like something she couldn’t touch.

Van had been trying—so hard—to figure you out. You were always around. You got her jokes. You liked horror movies. You touched her arm when you laughed. You wore her flannel that one time and gave it back smelling like your shampoo and lip balm and whatever actual sunshine would smell like if it was a person. But you never said anything. Never gave her a yes or a no. And Van was spiraling.

So tonight? She was going for it.

She wandered over with her usual cocky grin, thumbs hooked in her pockets. “Hey. You look tragically sober. Want me to spike your drink and make this party tolerable?”

You turned toward her, amused. “You offering me alcohol or attempted murder?”

Van grinned. “Both. Depends on how fun you want your night to be.”

You laughed, and her heart flipped.

“I was hoping you’d come,” you said softly, and Van’s smirk faltered for a split second.

“Yeah?” She tried to recover, leaning a little closer. “What, so you can have someone to make fun of the bad music with?”

You gave her that half-smile that killed her every time. “Something like that.”

She couldn’t tell if you were flirting or just being friendly and it was driving her insane. She leaned closer, head tilted. “So… did you come here alone, or did you bring someone who’ll threaten to fight me for flirting with you all night?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you planning to flirt with me all night?”

Van grinned, bold but so nervous underneath. “I mean, only if you want me to.”

You didn’t answer. Just looked at her for a long second—eyes flicking down to her lips for half a heartbeat—and Van swore she stopped breathing.

“Come with me,” she said suddenly.

You blinked. “What?”

“To the actual fire. You’ve been brooding in the shadows like some misunderstood film noir protagonist.”

You rolled your eyes, but followed her. She didn’t touch you—not yet—but your arms brushed as you walked.

At the fire, people were roasting marshmallows with sticks they clearly ripped off nearby trees. Natalie was talking to Travis with her usual exasperated tone. Taissa waved at you. Misty was… being Misty.

Van watched you talk to the others, always half-turned toward her. She noticed every time you glanced at her, every time your smile lingered longer on her than it did on anyone else. It was subtle, but Van saw it.

When you were alone again, Van cleared her throat. “So, okay. Hypothetical.”

You arched a brow. “Oh boy.”

“If I asked you to go to, say, a movie night. With me. Like, just us. Would that be a thing you’d be into?”

You sipped your drink, clearly stalling. “Like a date?”

Van tried to laugh casually. “I mean, only if you’re into that kinda thing. I can also just sit six feet away from you and throw popcorn whenever something dramatic happens.”

You looked at her again, and she swore the air got heavier. “You don’t know if I’m into girls, do you?”

Van blinked. “I… don’t.” She shoved her hands into her pockets. “It’s not like I haven’t wondered, though. Like, a lot.”

You stared at her for a long second. Then you stepped in closer.

Van’s breath caught.

You were barely a foot apart now, firelight dancing over both your faces.

“You ever stop talking?” you teased softly.

Van swallowed. “If it meant you’d kiss me right now, probably.”

Your lips twitched. Then your hand brushed against hers, slow, deliberate. Her fingers curled around yours like muscle memory. She leaned in—closer, closer—your noses nearly touching, breath mingling, eyes flicking to lips—

“HEY!”

Misty’s voice cut through the moment like a chainsaw.

You stepped back fast, cheeks flushed, and Van nearly groaned out loud.

“Oh my God, what now, Misty?” Van snapped, spinning around.

Misty blinked innocently. “Natalie said to tell you the cops might be doing a drive-by. We should, like, look less drunk.”

Van turned back—but you’d already pulled away, your face unreadable again.

She didn’t try to close the space again. She just stood there, burning in more ways than one.

You glanced at her, gaze softer this time. “You still haven’t asked me officially.”

Van blinked. “What?”

“The date. You said hypothetically.”

Her heart jumped. “Right. Shit. Okay. So—movie night. Just us. Friday?”

You smiled faintly. “I’ll think about it.”

And then you walked away, throwing a look over your shoulder that left Van completely wrecked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HI!! First fic but omg the lack of van fics in general is concerning. Let me know if y’all like it!! X.

[shadowlurkerbug]

I saw this n immediately thought of demoman, soldier, scout, and pyro

[jetsetromance]

one thing about cleaning your “depression room” is not knowing where to put everything

[muniimyg]

♡ 04: how you're lookin' at me, yeah, i know what that means and i'm obsessed

series m.list // taglist

note: a wild ride…. good luck y’all ,, THANKS FOR 1K 😻 my kitty is happy !!! hauwhahahahaa this part is lengthy so pls take a mfking SEAT. pls lmk what y’all think ,, send in asks 🫵 we’re headed towards the finale 💛 much wuv !!

warnings: tension/tampo vibes (whats that in english? lol) ,, male masturbation (jk gets himself off as he recalls oc slapping him) ,, jealousy (lots of it. like 90% of this part is filled with it) ,, oc has a hickey ,, angst ,, and a little mwaamwaaaa moment :')

//

life sucks. 

for jungkook, at least. 

it’s been almost a month since the incident, and you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him.

the memory of the fight—the words exchanged, the way he said your name—still lingers in the air between you like smoke, suffocating and inescapable.

at first, jungkook tried.

he texted you the next day and every day after that. his messages were hesitant and apologetic... and each one was left unanswered.

nerd [11:11PM]: ___, can we talk? sent nerd [11:28PM]: please? sent nerd [12:01AM]: i’m sorry. i mean it. sent nerd [12:03AM]: it wasn’t even like that. not with her.  sent nerd [1:09AM]: ik i’m gonna sound like a total douche no matter what so let me do it please sent nerd [1:15AM]: let me say sorry, let me fuck up, let me make it up to u sent nerd [2:01AM]: i really hate begging  sent nerd [2:01AM]: but i really hate u not wanting me even more seen

he did try to call though.

just once.

the ringtone barely lasted before he hung up, realizing how futile it was.

at one point, he showed up at your favorite coffee shop one afternoon. he sat alone by the window with an untouched drink, waiting. 

his eyes flicked to the door every time it opened, a glimmer of hope lighting his expression for a split second before fading when it wasn’t you.

after two hours, he left.

but now, almost four weeks later, jungkook has stopped trying (so hard).

it wasn’t a sudden decision, more of a gradual acceptance that whatever connection you’d shared—whatever you’d been to each other—was slipping through his fingers.

he told himself you needed time, that maybe this space was what you wanted, what you deserved. and so, he gave it to you.

he told himself it wasn’t the end. 

it couldn’t be.

he refuses for it to be. 

this is just… complicated. 

he gets that.

he's a smart guy after all!

but late at night, when the world was quiet and he was left alone with his thoughts, the weight of your absence pressed against his chest like an ache he couldn’t soothe. it... burns? it throbs in this aching rhythm that he can't quite figure the melody to.

jungkook thinks about the way you banter with him and how much it makes his day. how closely you sit next to him. how effortlessly you mesmerize him… 

how you flirted with him for a few days and now he's malfunctioning. how he spent the last month memorizing every detail of those days and can't get over it. he has convinced himself you're into him...  

like, remember how your fingers would brush his when you handed him something? that meant something, right? or how about the way you looked at him and tilted your head? shit, yeah.

that meant something.

fuck, the way you laugh and throw your head back and he gets a glance at your perfect neck—how he wants to leave kisses on it. how he… 

how he had you. 

for a moment, he really had you. 

under him, tangled, and messy. 

how he was so close to your lips. 

he should’ve kissed you. 

he should’ve locked the fucking door. 

he should’ve ran after you even more. 

but he didn’t…

and now? 

now you aren’t even around. 

he recalls what taehyung said to him night at the arcade. taehyung's words rub into his wound like salt. it stings. it makes him feel sick to his stomach and he just... get can't stomach it.

“she isn't gonna stick around forever... especially with all the shit you pull…”

there are no words to describe how incredibly helpless he feels.

if anything, he goes through circles in his mind; completely in disbelief he could fuck up this bad with you.

he hates that he can't think straight. he hates that he can't study properly. he hates that he stopped tutoring and even got in trouble with his profs for letting them down (they really counted on jungkook to help other students out).

he hates that he can't fucking breathe lately.

he can't sleep.

he can't eat.

jungkook hates the growing distance, but more than that, he hates how much it hurts.

he hates how much he wants to fix things even when he doesn’t know how. he just knows he wants to. god, fuck it—

fine. 

he hates how much he misses you.

but most of all, he hates that he was wrong. 

it was entirely his fault. 

jungkook hates it all.

by chance, you and jungkook run into each other. 

the scene is perfect.

it's the perfect set up to cry over when you get home—that is.

the rain starts just as you’re leaving the library, soft at first but quickly turning heavier. you don’t expect to see him—not here, not now—but there he is, standing under the awning of the café across the street, shaking out his umbrella. the door chimes as you step outside, and he looks up.

for a moment, neither of you move, caught in the heavy stillness of the moment.

jungkook freezes when he sees you. 

his eyes widen briefly, then soften into something cautious, hesitant. he tucks his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, fingers flexing nervously against the fabric as he steps forward.

“hey,” he says, his voice careful, like he’s offering a truce.

the sound of him makes your heart clench, the warmth in his tone threatening to undo you. but you don’t let it show. you nod once, lips pressed into a thin line, and move to step around him.

“wait—” his hand shoots out, not to grab you, just to stop you. his fingers hover midair, unsure if he even has the right to reach for you anymore. “___, please?”

the rain is falling harder now, pooling on the sidewalk and soaking into the edges of your shoes. you glance at him, taking in the way his hair clings to his forehead, the way his hoodie looks just a little too big on him, like he hasn’t been sleeping well or eating much.

“can you not pretend like this is a coincidence?” you ask quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. 

he stays silent. 

it wasn’t. 

truth be told, he’s been waiting outside for almost 45 minutes. he didn’t even know if you were at the library today… he just had to wait and find out for himself. 

"do you have an umbrella?" he asks, breaking the silence. 

"what—"

"here." 

he cuts you off, pushing the umbrella toward you.

you blink, startled, as he places the handle firmly in your hand. your fingers wrap around it instinctively, the metal cool against your palm.

"jungkook—" you start, your voice faltering.

he shakes his head, stepping back into the rain without a word. the downpour hits him almost instantly, soaking through his hoodie as he shoves his hands into his pockets and starts walking away.

you stand there, the umbrella trembling in your grip, watching him go. the rain comes down harder, cascading off the awning above you, but you barely notice. your gaze stays locked on him—on the way his shoulders hunch against the storm, on the slow but steady steps that carry him farther and farther away.

something tightens in your chest. 

maybe it’s regret or maybe longing… but as his figure grows smaller and the storm swallows him—you feel it.

the warmth of his lingering presence and the chill of it all—

—of your favourite almost.

a few days later, jungkook finds his umbrella in his bedroom. 

he takes out his phone to send you a text, prepared to humiliate himself and to beg for a second of your attention. he’d trade all tonight’s focus for a moment of you.

just as he picks the umbrella up, he finds a note. 

___ told me to give it back to you. she says thanks (whore). ps: she said don’t text her. — taehyung

jungkook sighs. 

does he listen? 

obviously not. 

nerd [6:19PM]: don’t tell me what to do  nerd [6:20PM]: i hate this nerd [6:21PM]: u should’ve jus kept the umbrella. giving it back to taehyung and telling him to tell me not to text u is sick.  seen. nerd [6:22PM]: reply pls seen.  nerd [6:26PM]: fine. i’ll jus talk to myself  nerd [6:31PM]: i miss u sm i jerked off the other night thinking abt the way u slapped me  seen nerd [6:33PM]: come on, kitty  nerd [6:34PM]: promise to think abt me tn :(  nerd [6:35PM]: cos i’m gonna think abt u tn nerd [6:36PM]: ignore me if u want proof  typing…  nerd [6:37PM]: kitty? seen nerd [6:40PM]: fuck. nerd [6:41PM]: how do u get me so fucking hard thru text? maybe i jus miss u too much  nerd [6:42PM]: excited for my proof?  seen nerd [6:45PM]: ft?  seen nerd [6:46PM]: keep seenzoning me and i’ll cum typing... seen ___ has notifications silenced

but it's too late.

jungkook meant it.

he's sat on his gaming chair, cock heavy.

his phone is out with that group picture from the arcade (zoomed into you) as lewd thoughts of you fill his mind. jungkook runs his thumb across his tip, hissing at the way it feels over his slit. 

he flicks his wrists, gripping his dick with just enough pressure to grow the hardness. it’s already stiff and he can feel the need to cum—but he just can’t.

he can’t without thinking of you. 

so, his eyes flutter shut as his memories of you replay in his mind. 

from the way your lips winced when he ate you out—to the way that mini skirt looked on you that day. he thinks about the way you say his name; in any and every way. angry, teasingly, and desperately… he thinks about how pretty it sounds rolling off your tongue. 

how pretty you looked under him.

how good you smelt when he kissed your neck. 

how close you sat next to him—fingertips lingering... god, what he would do to be close to you again. 

jungkook thinks about the slap. 

how hard your palms hit his cheek and how angry you looked at him. despite the negativity surrounding the situation—he can’t help it. 

you looked so hot. 

it just… gets to him. 

before he knows it, his hand is covered in his sticky cum. 

he’s a loser—a nerd in your words. 

he always has been… and here he is; jerking himself off to the pretty girl he lost his chance with.

the night is supposed to be nothing special. 

for jungkook, it’s just another event for his precious marine conservation club—a fundraiser, a schmooze-fest for potential investors, and a chance to hand out awards to appease the donors. sure, he’s getting an award, but it doesn’t feel like much.

the room buzzes with polite conversation and clinking glasses. jungkook adjusts his tie for the hundredth time, barely paying attention to the speeches and presentations. he stands off to the side with the other club members, blending into the background until his name is called.

“jeon jungkook, for outstanding contributions to marine conservation and innovation. mr. jeon has been working towards innovative chemical solutions for marine conservation, focusing on sustainable practices to protect endangered species like dolphins, and developing eco-friendly alternatives to reduce their environmental impact.”

the applause is polite but hearty.

jungkook steps onto the stage, the spotlight hitting him square in the face. as he accepts the plaque, his gaze instinctively sweeps over the audience—and then it stops.

you’re here.

sitting with the guys, casually chatting like you belong there, like you haven’t been avoiding him for a month and a half (at this point).

his heart trips over itself. 

he’s not even sure if it’s relief or panic or something else entirely, but it rattles him. he forces his attention back to the microphone, holding the plaque in his slightly sweaty hands.

“uh, thank you,” he begins, his voice steady enough, though his pulse is anything but. “our club’s mission has always been to protect and preserve marine life through education, community projects, and outreach. with this award…”

his eyes flick back to you. 

you’re laughing at something taehyung just said, your smile bright, your whole demeanor light and carefree.

“…we want to focus on…”

he falters, the words slipping from his mind as his gaze lingers on you.

“…we want to focus on… f-focus…”

a ripple of laughter spreads through the audience. someone whistles playfully. he blinks, startled back into the moment.

“…focus on sustainable practices and expanding our projects,” he finishes, clearing his throat as heat rises to his cheeks.

you’re laughing too, your head tilted slightly as you join the others. it should make him feel worse, but somehow, seeing you like that—smiling, present—grounds him.

he powers through the rest of the speech, keeping his gaze firmly away from where you’re sitting. when it’s over, he accepts the handshake from the host and makes his way offstage, barely registering the applause.

as soon as the ceremony ends, jungkook doesn’t even think. 

he weaves through the crowd, ignoring congratulatory pats on the back and comments from investors, his eyes scanning for you.

how did you know about tonight?

wait. 

shit.

he’s been texting you every day with random ass updates. of course you know. he’s yapped about it… but why? why did you come? don’t you hate his guts?

you're here so... maybe you don't hate him as much as he has convinced himself you do.

jungkook finds you near the back with the friend group, holding a glass of champagne and listening to hoseok animatedly retell a story.

“congratulations,” you say lightly, lifting your glass in a mock toast. your words are casual, but there's an edge to them, a distance you've kept between the two of you for far too long.

his chest tightens at the awkwardness of your tone, but he nods, his hands slipping into his pockets. the space between you feels impossibly wide now, though only a few feet separate you.

“thanks,” he says, his voice quieter than he intended. “... thanks for coming.”

his gaze flickers to yours for a second before dropping to the floor, and he shifts, a little uncertain, taking a half-step closer.

hesitantly, you inch back. 

his presence is suddenly overwhelming, more than you’re ready for.

“yeah… of course,” you murmur, unsure how to navigate the new dynamic between you two. the tension is thick, but there's something else there too. an unspoken history. “what are friends for, you know?”

he hates that. 

friends. 

yeah fucking right.

jungkook tries to break the tension.

he takes a risk.

he takes a small step forward, hoping you don’t move. this is the closest he’s gotten to you in over a month—he needs this. it’s like euphoria in his veins—being with you again.

he needs this.

“how have you been?” he asks, the question coming out softer than he anticipated. jungkook scratches the back of his neck and continues. “a-are you coming to the afterparty?”

your lips part, a pause hanging between you.

you don’t want to admit how much you’ve missed this. how much you’ve missed him.

but the words slip out, more natural than you expect.

“yeah,” you say, giving him a brief but warm look. “i’ll be there.”

for a moment, your eyes lock, and something shifts. 

it’s like you’ve both forgotten all the walls, the space between you collapsing. he can feel his heart rate quicken, like his knees might give out, but he forces himself to stay grounded, to act nonchalant.

“cool,” he says, trying to brush off the sudden rush of emotions. “i’ll.. i’ll be there too.” he smiles, but it’s the kind of smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes—not yet, anyway.

“i sure hope so,” you laugh. “it’s your party, nerd.”

nerd. 

holy shit. 

never has he ever felt so relieved to hear you call him that. 

as he’s about to say more, taehyung appears out of nowhere, slapping his arm and giving him a congratulatory squeeze. 

“hey, man, nice speech. well deserved,” taehyung says, grinning like an idiot. “what did you want to focus on, again?”

you laugh while jungkook rolls his eyes. he shoves taehyung playfully. 

suddenly, you can’t help but feel the awkwardness settle back in, like something’s shifted again. you feel a pang in your chest as you turn toward the other people nearby, the ones you've been socializing with before jungkook showed up. the buzz of the conversation pulls you away, and you focus on the group, hoping to escape the overwhelming emotions that jungkook’s presence stirs.

jungkook watches you go, his eyes lingering as you slip away from the conversation. 

he can’t help it. 

you’re in his head again.

he looks over at taehyung, catching his eye. 

“hyung, is she coming to the dinner before the afterparty?” he asks, trying to sound casual. his voice betrays him, cracking with just the faintest hint of hope.

taehyung raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of his drink. 

“yeah. excited?”

“no.”

taehyung scoffs. “say that again but take away the lying.”

“fuck off.”

“___’s a good friend, man,” taehyung chuckles, redirecting the conversation. “you’re lucky. you just might be back in her good graces.”

jungkook’s heart skips a beat. 

“really?” he asks, trying not to sound too eager.

taehyung grins, leaning in a little. 

“yeah, but... she’s bringing her little boyfriend with her.”

you’re doing what?

jungkook feels the need to rub his eyes or something.

was taehyung shitting on him? boyfriend? when did this happen? no fucking way. 

jungkook refuses to believe it. 

… yet, the words hit jungkook like a punch to the gut. his breath catches, and his stomach tightens. 

"what?" his voice is barely a whisper, the weight of it settling in. 

"she didn't tell you?"

"we haven't been talking."

"rightfully so."

fuck. 

no. 

he doesn’t want to believe it, but the hurt is already seeping through.

taehyung shrugs, oblivious to the internal storm brewing in jungkook. 

“shit, well... yeah, she’s been seeing him for a while. dunno if they’re officially together, but… guess she’s really moving on. good for her, right? i mean, now you can really focus on just being her friend.”

the air stills. 

the reality of it all comes crashing down. jungkook’s heart sinks, his chest tightening in that all-too-familiar ache. 

that's why you’ve been busy... 

you’ve been moving on.

his fingers curl into fists, the anger bubbling up before he can suppress it. but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let his emotions spill out in front of taehyung, even though every part of him is screaming. 

“yeah,” he forces a smile. “i guess.”

as the night goes on, jungkook can’t shake the feeling that he’s lost something he can’t get back. something that’s slipping further away with every step you take, every laugh you share with someone else. and no matter how much he wants to fight for it, he’s afraid it’s already too late.

jungkook doesn’t want to go to dinner anymore.

he has no appetite.

jungkook is already at the dinner when you arrive. 

his mood is off, grumpy but with an undercurrent of sadness that he can’t quite shake. he’s forcing a smile when people congratulate him for the award, but it’s clear it’s not reaching his eyes. the night’s just been a blur of congratulations and polite smiles, but all he can think about who will walk in with you. 

does he know him?

is he gonna be some super cool prince charming?

does he know that jungkook was eating you out just a month ago? 

all valid questions…

however, you arrive a little late, and immediately his gaze searches for you in the crowd. when he sees you, his heart lurches. he spots you talking to someone, and the knot in his stomach tightens.

you make your way to the table, your eyes scanning it before you stop. for a moment, you aren’t sure where to sit. usually, you sit next to jungkook… but the spot is occupied by jimin. 

not by choice.

jungkook had saved the spot for you… you just came too late and he didn’t have it in him to tell jimin to move. but, jimin catches the milli-second exchanged look you have with jungkook and immediately shifts. 

“oh,” jimin begins. “shit, i forgot… didn’t know you were gonna show up so late—”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “it’s fine we’re gonna sit on the other side! by the way,” you pause and push the guy you came with forward. “this is do-hwan. he’s a biochem major and we have a few electives together… um, what else?” 

biochem?

serisouly?

do you have a thing for nerds or something? bro doesn't even look the part. he should be majoring in physics or something even more lame.

jungkook's thoughts cut short when he hears you giggling.

“hi,” do-hwan says with a grins at everyone. then, he turns and extends his hand to jungkook. “jungkook? shit, man. congrats on the award.”

he chuckles, giving jungkook a playful look. “organic chem, huh? i guess someone has to study the pretty side of chemistry.” 

what the fuck does that mean?

jungkook’s ears turn red. 

“yeah,” he grumbles under his breath. “nice to meet you too.”

with that, you and do-hwan make your way to the other side of the table. jungkook watches, his gaze hardening as you take a seat beside him.

he’s trying his best to stay calm and to not show it—not show how absolutely fucking mad this entire thing is.

this is ridiculous! 

his chest tightens painfully at the sight of you sitting with him. his fingers curl into his glass as he watches you laugh and chat with others, inserting do-hwan like you’re some proud girlfriend. 

you've probably known do-hwan like 10 seconds.

and jungkook can’t help it! every word you exchange with do-hwan makes him feel like he’s being crushed from the inside out. 

he’s trying to focus on the conversation happening around him, but his mind keeps wandering, drifting to you.

he watches as you lean in to talk to do-hwan, the way your eyes light up when you laugh at something he says. it’s the same laugh, the same warmth in your smile, but somehow it feels so much farther away from him now—like a memory that he’s trying to hold onto but can’t quite grasp.

he forces himself to look at the group again, but his gaze keeps slipping back to you. every word you exchange with do-hwan makes his chest tighten.

it's like he’s suffocating, and he can’t tear his eyes away. the way he moves so casually, his hand brushing against yours as he reaches for his drink. 

it’s too much.

it’s too familiar.

and then, as you turn your head to respond to someone else, he sees it.

just a flash of it—right there on your neck. 

a small hickey, barely visible, but it might as well be a brand. his heart stops for a beat. the sight burns in his chest, and before he can stop himself, his breath catches in his throat.

his stomach churns violently, a rush of heat flooding his veins. everything feels like it’s collapsing inward. the noise around him fades, and all he can hear is the pounding of his own heartbeat. the world shrinks, and the weight of the jealousy hits him like a truck.

he can’t stay here. 

not like this. 

not with this tightness in his chest, not with the ache in his stomach. the room feels like it’s closing in on him, and he knows—he knows he has to get out.

without a word, he stands abruptly, pushing his chair back. his heart races as he excuses himself from the table, slipping away into the hallway outside the main dining area.

the rest of the table doesn’t seem to notice his sudden departure, but your friends quickly start murmuring, and one of them nudges you. 

"you should probably go check on him," taehyung says, giving you an almost knowing look. “i told you not to bring him.”

you hesitate for a second, then stand, glancing at do-hwan.

“it’s not do-hwan's fault.”

taehyung rolls his eyes at you. 

“you’re playing it kinda mean tonight though,” he tells you. “jungkook’s been miserable. sure he deserves to be dragged through mud for whatever happened and for whatever he said, but this? on his night? i don’t know ___…”

you gulp.

maybe taehyung is right.

but you didn’t intend for it to be like this. you genuinely brought a friend you’ve been spending time with! and, sure… yeah. you’ve been kissing him for a few weeks now, but so what? jungkook has probably been fucking every student he’s been tutoring so why the fuck does this matter?

“___…” taehyung urges you. 

“yeah, yeah… i’m going.” 

you wave taehyung off as you get up from your seat. you excuse yourself and let do-hwan know you’ll be right back.

you find jungkook outside. 

he stands with his back pressed against the cool metal of his car, arms crossed loosely over his chest. you notice that his posture is stiff... like he’s trying to keep himself grounded, but his shoulders still carry the weight of what he’s just seen.

his jaw clenches every so often, like he’s holding something back, but when his muscles tense, it’s almost as if the anger or hurt inside him is too much to contain.

as you walk towards him and he notices you. he runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends, clearly agitated. he lets out a slow, shaky breath, his eyes cast down toward the ground as if trying to collect his thoughts. he shakes his head slightly, as if to shake off the frustration that has settled in his chest, but it doesn’t seem to help. 

then, he looks up at the sky, his gaze distant, unfocused, lost in the swirl of thoughts that seem to chase him in circles. his arms drop to his sides for a moment, his fingers flexing and unflexing like he’s trying to release the tension that has built up in his body.

after a long pause, he lets out a frustrated sigh, raking his hand through his hair again, this time pushing it back as he exhales sharply.

his whole stance is restless.

it’s like he can’t quite settle his thoughts or his body, caught between what he feels and the reality of what’s happening. 

he’s trapped in his own head, unable to escape the weight of the situation.

by now, you’re next to him.

are you here to set him free?

“so… have the dolphins ever thanked you for your hard work?” you ask, trying to break both the silence and tension with your light tone. “you do so much for them… ungrateful little brats—you know they’re psychos right? they bully—”

he doesn’t turn around. 

“what’s on your neck?” he asks. “did your boyfriend do that?”

your chest hurts at his words. “he’s not... he’s not my boyfriend.” you swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. “he’s just a friend.”

there’s a long pause, and when he finally turns to face you, his eyes are a mixture of frustration and hurt. 

“the same kind of friend i am to you?”

he’s trying to sound nonchalant, but there’s a tremor in his voice.

you shake your head, not knowing how to explain, not knowing how to make him understand.

“you know what? i didn’t come here to make you feel like this…” your voice cracks slightly. “i didn’t... i don’t want to hurt you. i didn’t want to come.”

he scoffs bitterly.

“maybe you shouldn’t have.”

his words sting, but you can’t back down. 

“what do you want me to do?” you ask, frustrated. “if i didn’t show up, you’d be upset and blow up my phone. now that i’m here, you’re still upset—”

“and this is how you chose to show up?” jungkook raises his voice, turning to you. he steps forward, towering over you. he brings his hands to your hair, pushing it back and leaning in to look at your hickey properly. 

he squints. 

“are you proud of this?” he hisses. “fucking bug bite bullshit.”

“stop—” you snap, cutting him off now. “don’t—”

“okay. sorry, fuck..."

a beat.

"___, i miss you,” he breathes. “i just… shit. can you stay still for a second?”

there’s a long silence between you two, the air thick with things unsaid. jungkook looks like he’s about to say something, but his mouth closes, his frustration evident in the way he grits his teeth. 

instead, he just breathes you in. 

for the first time in a month and a half; jungkook can breathe.

then, he steps away and sighs. 

“think i’m gonna head home first. i… i need some space or something,” jungkook tells you. “let them know for me?”

“y-yeah. sure.”

“okay,” jungkook nods. “i’ll see you later.”

“see you.”

for the first time in a while, jungkook offers you a smile and you return it. 

short and sweet—he takes it. 

he leaves and thinks about it the entire drive home.

when you arrive at the party, you’re still reeling from the brief exchange with jungkook. 

your thoughts are completely a tangled mess. 

from the words he didn’t say to the way his eyes held that edge of something unspoken—it all lingers in your mind like an unsolved puzzle. you thought you had it all figured out…

that you could be fine.

that you could move on—but now, after that moment, you’re not so sure anymore. 

your heart races in a way that you can’t explain. why does it feel like you’re standing on the edge of something—something big, something scary—and yet, you're not sure if you want to fall or pull back?

your mind keeps returning to the way he looked at you, like he was caught between wanting to say everything and nothing at all. it’s not a feeling you can shake off easily.

it’s heavier than you thought it would be.

at the party, you try your best to focus on the people around you. do-hwan is by your side, chatting casually with a few people, most of them strangers to you. some faces are familiar—people from jungkook’s marine conservation club, and others... just people. 

you make your rounds, greeting them politely, exchanging pleasantries, but your thoughts are still drifting back to him. to jungkook. the air is thick with anticipation, and no matter how much you try to focus on the conversations happening around you, your mind keeps wandering.

and then, there he is.

jungkook is standing by the drink table, his posture relaxed but not at ease. 

his gaze flicks to you for a moment, a brief flicker of something—maybe surprise, maybe something more—before he meets your eyes. there’s a tense, palpable moment of silence.

he’s holding a red cup in one hand, his fingers wrapped loosely around it. his other hand rests in his pocket, but his stance is still too rigid... too guarded.

it’s like he’s waiting for something to happen, for you to do something.

he doesn’t smile. 

he just nods at you. 

a small, deliberate movement that somehow feels too formal, too distant.

no words.

just acknowledgment.

you feel the knot tighten in your stomach, the nervous energy in your chest quickening. it’s the simplest thing, but it feels loaded with so much more.

you can’t look away. 

something inside you is aching to go over, to close the space between you, to ask if everything’s okay, to say something—but you're frozen. the tension in the air between you is thick enough to suffocate.

you swallow hard, trying to calm the unease building in your chest, but it's no use.

the silence stretches out, heavy and thick, as you stand there, caught between the desire to run or to take a step closer, not sure if you're brave enough for either.

you take a step back, trying to break eye contact, when suddenly, someone bumps into you from behind. you stumble forward, your feet catching on the edge of a rug, and you let out a startled breath as you lose your balance.

before you can fully fall, a strong hand grips your wrist, pulling you back against something solid. your breath catches as you feel the warmth of someone’s body close to you.

it’s jungkook.

without a word, his other hand slides around your waist, steadying you, his fingers briefly pressing against the fabric of your shirt. the contact is brief but grounding, like the world, slows for a moment, just the two of you, suspended in time.

he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t offer the usual reassuring words. 

his grip is firm, and steady, but he doesn’t linger. as quickly as it happens, he pulls away, his hand leaving your waist just as the tension between you starts to build.

you open your mouth to say something, maybe a thank you, but before the words leave your lips, he’s already moving away, stepping back with that familiar, unreadable expression.

you stand there. 

you’re frozen for a beat longer than necessary. your chest tight as you try to catch your breath… his sudden departure stings more than you care to admit. there’s no time for you to process what just happened, what that touch meant—or didn't mean—before he vanishes back into the crowd.

fuck.

the night only gets louder as more people flood into the house. 

the music thrums through the walls, bass-heavy and relentless, blending with the clatter of cups and the hum of overlapping conversations.

you weave through the crowd, the heat of so many bodies pressed together almost suffocating. your heart races—not from the chaos around you but from the weight of the unspoken tension that’s followed you since you walked in.

you couldn’t bring yourself to drink, though do-hwan had handed you a cup earlier. 

it’s long forgotten somewhere, left behind on a table. you’re too afraid of what a single drink might loosen in you—afraid of saying or doing something you’re not ready for.

you don’t want to make worse what already feels so broken.

“hey.” do-hwan’s voice cuts through the noise, his hand resting lightly on your arm. he pulls you aside to a quieter corner of the room, away from the crush of people. “you okay?”

you nod, a small, uncertain smile tugging at your lips. “yeah. just... a little overwhelmed, i guess.”

he watches you closely, his expression softening as if he’s trying to read between the lines. “you sure? you’ve been kind of quiet tonight.”

“i’m fine, really.”

“you don’t have to be,” he says, and it’s the way he says it—gentle, almost understanding—that makes you crack a real smile. “pretty sure jungkook hates me. pretty sure he’s killed me 10 times in his head in the past hour or so… and he knows all the organic chem shit to make it a really clean murder, you know? “

you let out a weak laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

he grins at the sight, his confidence blooming as he leans in closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. 

“there it is,” he says playfully. “i was starting to think you didn’t know how to smile anymore.”

you laugh softly despite yourself, and his grin widens. 

do-hwan then dips his head lower as he talks, his voice dropping slightly, as if the two of you are sharing a secret. it’s intimate in a way that makes your cheeks flush, his proximity unnerving. his eyes flick to yours, and he leans in just a little more.

across the room, jungkook sees everything. 

is it hot in here?

because fuck, he’s burning up.

actually, the entire house is on fire in his mind. 

he’s been watching you for most of the night, though he pretends not to be.

the way do-hwan hovers near you, the way you laugh at something he says—it feels like a punch to the chest. every small interaction between you two is a reminder of what he’s lost, of what he could’ve had if he’d been braver, better.

his grip on his cup tightens, his knuckles white against the red plastic. he can’t hear what you’re saying, but he doesn’t need to. the way do-hwan leans closer, the way his hand brushes your arm—it’s enough to make jealousy coil hot and bitter in jungkook’s stomach. it burns through him, unbearable, as he watches do-hwan dip his head lower, his lips so close to yours.

and then something inside him snaps.

fuck it. 

before he knows it, he’s moving through the crowd, his feet carrying him faster than his mind can keep up. his hand reaches out, fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist just as do-hwan’s face nears yours. you barely have time to process the sudden motion before you’re being yanked back, stumbling slightly into jungkook’s chest.

“what the hell?” do-hwan says, his tone sharp, but jungkook doesn’t even look at him. his focus is entirely on you, his jaw tight and eyes dark with something unreadable.

your breath catches, your heart hammering in your chest as you look up at him, startled. 

“jungkook—”

he doesn’t let you finish. 

his hand wraps firmly around your wrist, and before you can process what’s happening, he’s pulling you away. his grip is steady but not rough, a silent insistence that leaves no room for argument.

“jungkook, wait—” you try again, glancing back at do-hwan, whose confused expression barely registers in the rush of your heartbeat.

jungkook doesn’t look back, his jaw tight and his steps purposeful as he weaves through the crowd, his hand never leaving yours. the air around you feels heavy, the muffled music and chatter blurring into white noise as he leads you up the stairs.

your pulse thrums in your ears as he pushes open a door and pulls you inside, closing it behind you with a quiet but final click. the sudden silence of the room contrasts sharply with the chaos outside, and for a moment, you can only stare at him, your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath.

he finally lets go of your wrist, his hand lingering for a split second longer than necessary before he steps back. his gaze is dark, unreadable, but the tension radiating off him is palpable. the weight of the moment presses down on you, thick and suffocating, as you wait for him to speak.

a moment passes.

then, another.

and another.

and another.

and then—

“dump him.” 

you clearly your throat.

“can’t dump him. he’s not my boyfriend—“

“you and your fucking situationships.”

you gulp.

you hate the way he says it.

situationship… fuck him.

the room feels smaller than it is, the air thick with the weight of the moment. jungkook’s jaw ticks as he stares at you, the sharpness in his voice cutting through the silence.

“you’re… fucking with me, right?” he spits out, his tone teetering between disbelief and frustration. “you can’t be fucking real right now. you were just—”

“i was just what?” you snap, your glare matching his. “no fair, jungkook. i got to hear you fuck some girl, but you don’t want to watch me kiss—”

“did i ask you to?” he cuts in, his voice rising.

“no,” you huff, crossing your arms. “but what are you asking from me right now? huh? jungkook… i don’t understand you—”

“what do you think i’m asking?” his voice lowers, but the intensity behind it doesn’t waver. he steps closer, his presence almost suffocating. “you’re always trying to act like this doesn’t matter. like i don’t matter.”

“maybe it doesn’t,” you challenge, even though the words taste bitter on your tongue.

jungkook laughs, but it’s humorless, sharp. 

“yeah, sure. that’s why you still give a fuck about me fucking—”

you snap. “don’t tell me her name.”

“what?” jungkook grumbles. “is that it? you get to parade around, yelling his fucking name and announcing it to the entire fucking world but i don’t get to tell you about the girl that came onto me for months? do-hwan biochem this, do-hwan that—do-hwan kiss me! is that it?"

"jungkook—"

"fuck, ___... listen to me, okay? let me tell you what i've been rehearsing for the past month and a half.... the girl i declined over and over again and fucked a total of 3 times because i was thinking with my dick is done. okay? if you’re trying to tell me that i fucked up—fine. yeah. i fucked up. but i meant it when i said it’s not what it looked like. ___, it wasn't like that. she spread shit about me being a good tutor and twisted it. how the fuck do you think i feel about myself? how the fuck do you think i feel about you seeing it differently—seeing me differently?”

your throat tightens, and you look away, desperate for a moment to compose yourself. 

“jungkook—”

“tell me how to fix it,” he cries, his frustration spilling over. “tell me what you want, because i’ll do it. i’ll stop tutoring if that’s what you want. fuck, i already did to be honest with you.”

you glance up at him, startled.

“why? that’s not going to change anything.”

“but i have to try…” his voice cracks, and he runs a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. “i’ll give up anything—whatever it takes. just tell me what you need, and i’ll do it. want me to stop wearing ugly ass shirts? fine. want me to stop saving the dolphins you hate so much—”

“i don’t hate dolphins—”

“you’re scared of them.”

your eyes soften. 

“how’d you know—”

“it’s obvious,” jungkook breathes. “the same way it’s obvious you’re scared of this.”

this...

what even is this?

the silence that follows is deafening. you don’t say anything, and the tension between you stretches taut, threatening to snap. his chest rises and falls heavily, his eyes searching yours, desperate for something you’re not sure you can give him.

he takes another step closer, his proximity making it impossible to think straight.

“say something,” he pleads, his voice barely above a whisper now.

but you can’t.

you don’t trust your voice, don’t trust yourself not to break under the weight of it all. so you stay quiet, the space between you charged with everything unsaid.

the weight of unsaid words and unresolved feelings pressing down on both of you. you take a step back, trying to create some space to breathe, but jungkook mirrors you, closing the distance effortlessly.

then, you look around his room for some kind of break… but it backfires as your eyes meet a plushie, laying on his bed.

hello kitty.

“what’s that?” you ask a little shyly.

jungkook turns his head, feeling a little embarrassed at what you’ve seen.

“what do you think it is?” jungkook asks gently. "___... i... i can't do it. i'm sorry, i can't..."

"can't what?"

"i can't want you," he confesses. "i can't want you when i need you that bad."

he points at the plushie and sighs. "fuck, do you know how stupid that fucking claw machine made me feel? i spent like 1 or 2—"

"hours?" your eyes widen.

he shakes his head. "hundred."

hundred.

you stay silent.

"i'm sorry, ___... for everything. i'm a shithead. i'm mean and inconsiderate. i'm a waste of time—i know... but i want you to know that... everything about my life feels so weird without you in it. the past month and half has been absolute hell. it's like... if you're not around, all i do is think about you and it fucks with me. i wonder what you're eating, who you're with, and what you're going to do next... i get excited when you seenzone me. i feel like i can finally breathe when you're near. i don't know what you did and what fucking pavlov doggy shit experiment you did on me—but fuck. woof woof. whatever you want, ___. seriously."

then, you do what you fear.

you give in.

“how am i supposed to trust you,” you start, your voice shaky but firm, “when you’re not even a good friend? you’re always so mean to me, jungkook. think about it… when have we ever been good friends?”

he scoffs, the corner of his mouth twisting into a bitter smile. 

“maybe it’s because i don’t want to be your friend.”

the words hit you like a slap, your breath catching in your throat. 

“what if i want you to be?” 

his eyes search yours, as if trying to figure out if you’re serious. 

“really?” he asks, his voice dropping lower, softer.

“really.”

his gaze flickers down to your lips, then back to your eyes, and his voice drops even lower, a dangerous edge creeping into it. 

you can feel it… you can feel it about to happen. 

“even when i’m about to do this?”

before you can process his words, his hand moves to your waist, fingers curling around you in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. he pulls you closer, the heat of his touch searing through the fabric of your clothes.

his lips find yours in a kiss that’s as sudden as it is inevitable. 

it’s not gentle—it’s firm, deliberate, and entirely consuming. his other hand comes up to cradle your jaw, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss. your hands instinctively reach for his shoulders, gripping him as if to steady yourself against the storm he’s unleashing.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing hard. the air between you feels different now—heavier, laden with something you can’t quite name but can’t deny.

his hand slides up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, and he looks at you softly, his dark eyes searching yours. the tender gesture sends a fresh wave of confusion—and longing—coursing through you.

“bad friend,” you scold him in a whisper.

his lips twitch, a soft laugh escaping him as his thumb grazes your cheek.

“don’t do that,” he says, his voice low, almost pleading. 

you raise a brow at him. "do what?"

"don’t friendzone me.”

“why not?” 

“i just kissed you.”

“so?”

“so?” he mimics, his tone teasing, but there’s a sharpness in his voice that makes you squirm. his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. 

“kitty,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a rough whisper, “i’m gonna be impossible to get rid of now."

[madamechrissy]

I Wanna Be Yours

Pairing- Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

Word count- 5.3k

Contents/summary -Cute, fluffy, sweet, some plot, college AU, SMUT lol, friends to lovers- Rating- Explicit- fingering, oral (fem receiving) explicit sex

This was a request for friends to lovers (where you fell first) Satoru is a dummy lol and not much plot, hope you all enjoy!! - Comments and reblogs always appreciated. 💖

Songs for this : Just Friends - Better - Love on the Brain

Satoru Gojo has been your best friend since middle school, he has his big, beefy arm around you now, grinning so pretty, as you both hide under his umbrella. It's raining so hard, pattering along it as you both walk to your dorm together.

"I miss you! You never hang out with me anymore!" He says with a pretty pout, his bright blue eyes wide, in that sad puppy look that always did you in, behind his dark blue shades.

"Well, you're always um... with your girlfriend." You say softly, and Satoru frowns then, his thin white brows together.

"So we can't still be friends?" He says, hurt in his voice, and you sigh, looking away. "I'm friends with Shoko, Mei, even Hime, why can't I be friends with you anymore! She's cool, you know."

"Um, because it's just different, I'm sorry, Satoru. I miss you too, though." He contemplates you then, stopping you in the middle of the road, where cars are driving by and the rain is pattering all over the ground around you.

"Look at me, please." He asks in that husky voice.

You tilt your chin up, looking at the tall, white haired best friend that you'd been in love with for so long. You suck in a breath then, as you realize how close you two are, so close your nipples are brushed against his chest, embarrassingly perked up from the cold air and from... Well, him, Satoru.

"Do you not like her?" He asks, and you shake your head. "It's not that serious, if my best friend thinks she's not a good person-"

"She seems great, Satoru. She's so pretty and sweet and you both look great together." You blink back tears, as he looks even more confused, lips parted as he touches your cheek.

"You're crying? Why what's wrong?" He asks, so fucking clueless, but it's not like you ever confessed to your goofy bestie. You swipe your tears, looking down.

"Not crying, it's the rain."

"We're under an-"

"It's the rain!" You choke on a sob then, and he brushes away a tear, you push his hand down. "You shouldn't do that. You have a girlfriend, Satoru."

"I don't understand, you avoid me all the time, you don't even hang out with the friend group. We all miss you!"

"It hurts too much."

His snowy lashes blink in confusion. "What hurts? I'm so confused, could you please just talk to me? Like we used to tell each other anything, remember that big crush you had on Geto?” He is trying to lighten the mood, smiling at you, and you take a shaky breath.

“I didn’t say I had a crush on Geto.”

“Sure ya did! You said your best friend, that’s either me or Geto silly! And I kept your secret and everything.” He says, and you laugh then, at the absurdity of it.

“Satoru, you're so dense.” You grumble now.

“Ya callin me fat I’m so skinny!?” He asks, his hand on his chest, gasping, as you roll your eyes.

“Oh my God. Let’s just get home.”

“No, we’re standing here until you talk to me again. You’re being a mean little brat, just like in sixth grade!” He yanks on one of your braids now, and earns your scowl, as you cross your arms, still getting pelted by rain, safe under the umbrella.

“You were mean then, always throwing paper balls at me, little shit!”

“Yeah and you would trip me!”

“And you would yank on my hair!”

“Because it’s cute, duh.” He yanks it again, sticking his tongue out, and you stick yours out right back, until he bursts into laughter, shaking his head and bending down as he doubles over.

“What’s so funny?” You demand, and he has to take several breaths, rubbing his eyes at how funny he thinks this is.

“You’re just so adorable when you’re mad.”

You scoff, stomping your foot, your boot splashing in the puddling water below you. “Am not!”

“Are too.”

“Whatever, I’m not going to be close like I was when you’re with a girl, there’s nothing else I’m going to say.”

“So you were never my friend at all.” You turn as you all walk again, and his lip is trembling, making your heart falter.

“I am always your friend, just I can’t be anymore. I’ll always be here if you need me, always care about you, but I can’t.”

“I just don’t understand, would you just-” Satoru grabs your wrist as you run to the awning in front of your dorm, and you can barely hear him as the weather gets insane, the rain pounding now. His big hand, his long fingers around your delicate wrist makes you heat up, exhaling, thighs shifting at how good it feels. “Just stay my friend, I love you, you know.”

Love means something different to Satoru than to you.

You don’t love Satoru Gojo like a ‘friend’ no you’re just in love with him.

“Satoru I am jealous, okay?”

He blinks in confusion. “But I’ll still spend time with you!”

“Not that, I’m jealous of her okay? She’s pretty and popular, and she has you as a boyfriend, you’re popular and handsome. You both work so well. Prom queen and Prom King. And what am I?” He frowns again, his brow furrowing as you try to turn away, and he yanks a braid, making you scowl, shoving at him. “Stop that.”

“You’re pretty, and you have friends, what is this? Why would you be jealous of a girl, you’re not like that, you don’t compare yourself. It’s one of my favorite things about you, that you’re just like one of the guys-”

“I’m not though. I am a girl, I do compare.”

“Why her?” Satoru asks softly, you sigh, eyes shut as you feel yourself falling more and more, hopeless.

“You should ask yourself why. I have to go, Satoru. Thanks for walking me home.”

“Please, just talk to me?” He asks, and you feel those tears return as you have to stay away, you can’t stand to watch the boy you’ve loved for so long so happy, and realize it’s because he sees you as ‘one of the guys’ his ‘bro’ it just hurts too much.

“I do love you, Satoru.” You say softly, looking at him as he’s choked up and emotional, fucking confused surely, and you walk into your dorm, hiding as your back rests on the door.

Shit, you really fucked that up, but you just can’t look at him, his beautiful smile as he’s holding her, as they kiss and she runs her hand through his silky white hair. You’ve had it bad since you met him, since he yanked on your pigtails and you two picked on each other, even then.

Now it’s so much worse.

You hop on Instagram, the first picture is her kissing Satoru’s cheek, and him cheesing and throwing a peace sign, with so many likes it’s unreal, Satoru was crazy popular on Insta, and so was his lovely girlfriend. You couldn’t even hate her because she was so nice, to you as well, she was cool, she was perfect for him, and he seemed so happy.

So you would never ruin it, but you can’t stomach it anymore. Now you get a message, from Suguru, asking you out, and you flush, typing back curiously, he was Satoru’s best friend, so you never would consider it. But then his next message makes you realize his intent, and you call him.

“Suguru! What you’re crazy!” He chuckles over the phone, as you lay on your bed in a huff.

“We all know you got it bad, why not see if he feels the same? Oh and I’ll put on a show too.” You snort at that, rolling over on your tummy, your ankles crossing as you hold the sleek black phone to your ear.

“What you’re gonna kiss me, Suguru? In front of him!”

“I sure will. You’ll love it so much, you’ll want me instead.”

“Pshh. But what if he doesn’t…”

Suguru sighs. “He’s so dense he doesn’t realize he actually has feelings, just trust me, worse comes to worse you get a free meal and a kiss from me.”

You laugh softly. “Oh, fine, I’m in!”

“Perfect, tomorrow night, we’ll head to the same restaurant they are going to, the details are already on IG. Dress sexy.” He purrs those words.

*****

“What… what are you two… Suguru… I…” Satoru is sputtering as you’re cozied up next to Suguru at the fancy sushi bar the next night, and you’re dressed in a sexy little black dress you got just for this. Satoru’s enamored as he takes you in, hair straight and silky, makeup decorating your cheeks, just a bit, and bright red lipstick. “And what are you wearing young lady!?”

“She looks hot.” Satoru’s girlfriend says, winking at you, and fuck she’s just SO NICE ugh. You smile back, standing then and waving at her.

“You look hot too!” You say, she laughs then, clinging to Satoru.

“She’s a grown up, silly. Hey Geto!”

“Hey there.” Geto waves at her too, putting an arm around you, watching Satoru’s face turn dark as he eyes his hand on your bare arm. “It’s good to see you all, but we did want some alone time. First date.”

Satoru’s pretty blue eyes narrow, his lips pursing. “A date!?”

“Yeah, Suguru asked me last night, I figured why not? You know, we’re not kids anymore.” Suguru’s hand goes to your waist, as he turns you to him, smiling, all handsome with his chocolate eyes and long silky hair pulled back. If you weren’t so in love with Satoru, you would crush on Suguru, but no you love this white haired idiot glaring at you both.

“She’s certainly not a kid anymore.” He whistles, eyes raking over your body, and you can feel Satoru’s anger, as his girlfriend giggles at you both.

“You all look so cute together! C’mon Satoru.” She yanks him then, away, and you and Suguru barely hold it together, you’re squealing.

“You think he really likes me!?”

“Course he does, look at our boy, all pouty.” Satoru is pouting over the menu, as his girlfriend is taking selfies next to him, in several poses.

“She’s so pretty…”

“You’re gorgeous, you know.” You melt at that, sighing and hugging Suguru tightly. “Oooh, this is even better, he’s so mad.” Suguru whispers, and you can’t stop your little smirk.

You all go about the evening, as Satoru’s eyes dart between you both, and soon Suguru’s phone is blinging, and he’s smirking as he leans back and reads them. “What is it!” You whisper.

“Oh he’s so mad at me. He’s furious. Lemme tell him to pay attention to his girlfriend. Ah- look.” You look over at Satoru, rolling his eyes and slouching back in his booth now, as his girlfriend pokes away on her phone, showing him various things. “All right, finale, love.”

“Finale?” You ask curiously, and Suguru grins, devious. “Oh shit, the kiss!”

“Hush, you’re bad at this. It’s a secret mission!” You giggle again, nodding.

“You probably just wanna kiss me.” You tease, and he brushes his hair back, winking as he leans in.

“Probably that and I wanna piss off Satoru. C’mon now, make it look real.” You sigh and nervously scooch forward, pressing your lips to Suguru’s. His lips are firm and warm, and his arms wrap around you, as you feel Satoru’s gaze burning a hole. You pull back, as he looks to his side. “Oh yeah.”

“Yeah? Let’s…” You yank him down again, kissing him fully, and Suguru is laughing against your lips, as your tongues awkwardly play together, and he’s grabbing your hip, pulling you closer.

Suddenly Satoru has walked past you all, and ‘accidentally’ has spilled a drink on your table. He grins, but he looks psychotic, his bright blue eyes so vivid they’re hard to look at. “Oops, sorry guys, just wanted to say bye! Did I interrupt?”

You grab a bunch of napkins, and Suguru is just laughing, as you rub your dress down, standing. “Shit, this is brand new!”

“Well you should be more careful. Plus, that’s not enough fabric to cover anything, gonna get a cold.” Satoru says, bending down and glaring at your exposed shoulders and chest. You glare back.

“I look pretty, thank you!”

“Yeah you do, you always do though. But…” He pauses then, blinking a bit, and then he just… walks away.

What a mess, you think, as Suguru is helping you clean your dress, and Satoru doesn’t even come back.

*****

You wake up that night to a knock on your door, you yawn, as it keeps getting louder and louder. “Oh god, hold on I’m coming.”

Satoru is there, and he’s so serious, you wipe your eyes, so bleary, as you stand there in your pajamas, his eyes rove over them, you’re in a little black crop and kitty shorts, barely covered. But Satoru had seen you like this plenty, you all had stayed nights at each other’s houses and everything, but something feels… different? His eyes rake over your body, and you tense up nervously, as you feel his energy radiating in your little dorm room.

"Toru, what is it? It's like what time?" You say softly, and he shuts the door behind him, pressing you too close, you take a step back.

Satoru says nothing, and you yawn, stretching and gesturing for him to come sit on your little gray couch.

"You always come here when you can't sleep. You need some cocoa, don't you?" You tease, heading to your kitchen and putting a pod of cocoa in your keurig you keep for Satoru. "Your girlfriend should have cocoa for you-"

Satoru is not saying a word, but now he's brushing your messy hair back off your neck, standing beside you in the kitchen, as the machine presses out the hot cocoa, you gasp, hands gripping the kitchen counter. You bite your lower lip, as he's bending low, his hands on either side of yours, hard body pressed against your back, and you can  feel the heat of his body, his breath tickling your neck.

"What are you up to, are you drunk?" You ask, your voice breathy as you take his cup, the pretty blue one you've kept here. Before Satoru's girlfriend you'd spent endless nights watching movies and talking, even falling asleep on the couch together. You always wondered if he'd make a move, do something... he never did.

Satoru's hand trails down a bare shoulder, and his touch makes you ache with longing, goosebumps running down your arm, a trail of them in his wake. You bite your lower lip, shifting your thighs, feeling such pressure between them, as your eyelashes flutter shut, it feels so good to have him touch you like this. It's almost as if you can picture...

"What'd you have, one fruity drink and you're all touchy? Stop that." You smack at his hand, turning and holding out the cocoa, and he sets it down on the counter, jaw clenched. "Satoru, what-"

His lips descend on yours before you can finish your sentence, kissing you for the first time, and you melt against him, melt in his arms, as you taste his sweet breath, as he cups your face with his big hands. You're whimpering softly, and he uses that opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, swirling against your own, and then you really taste him. And fuck he tastes good.

You're tiptoeing as he's pressing you against the counter, kissing you more and more passionately, finally pulling away and leaving you breathless, leaving you stupid. You exhale, shaky hands clinging to his dress shirt and looking up at him with wide eyes, as his own get lidded, snowy lashes low over his brilliant irises, studying you carefully.

This wasn't goofy, silly Gojo.

This wasn't Gojo who didn't ever shut up.

This wasn't your best 'buddy' Gojo right now.

You shake yourself out of your reverie, as he finally says a word for the first time since walking in here. "Fuck."

Eloquent.

You shove at him then, scowling, but you feel his hard body under your fingers. "What is this, some joke? You're dating, we can't kiss or do anything!"

"I broke up with her." You blink rapidly now in confusion, mouth ajar, as he sighs, running his hand through your hair. "When I saw you with Suguru, I hated it, so much. I hated seeing you kiss someone, and then I realized... that I have had feelings for you. It's why I have scared every guy off."

"You what now!?"

"None of them were good enough, I told myself, that I was just being a good friend for you. But Suguru... he is good enough for you, so why did it irk me? Why did it make me sick to my stomach?"

You feel tears well up as he speaks, as he's so serious, and not a dense little idiot. No, he's opening up, and he's saying words you dreamed of. Your lips tremble so badly you bite them, and he sighs, thumb releasing your lower lip from your teeth's grip gently.

"I hated seeing you with her. It made me so sick I couldn't hang out with you anymore." You say softly, and he sighs, pressing even closer, bending down low, looming over you, taking over you.

"That's what you meant yesterday, yeah? I'm stupid."

"You are."

"Hey!" You laugh then, even as he's swiping your tears gently away. "I always had a crush on you but I never wanted to ruin our friendship, fuck you're as close to me as Suguru. I can't imagine not sharing my day, not hearing about yours. I never wanted to fuck that up. And what if I do, if you are my girlfriend, what if I fuck up, make you mad, make you upset-"

"Satoru, stop. Look at me." He does then, as you finally get to cup his beautiful face in your hands, and he nuzzles one so sweetly, making you melt. "If you fuck something up we can fix it. If I fuck something up, we can fix it. Just like as friends sometimes you pissed me off, or I did, we didn't just give up. But are you sure you want to date, take this step?"

"I want to do a lot more than date." He whispers, running a hand down your tummy where it's bare, and your back arches when his hand dances to your hip. "I wanna touch you everywhere, kiss you everywhere, places I've dreamed of."

"Dreamed of me?" You whisper back, and he nods, kissing down your jaw, peppering it with little popping sounds from his lips, as your nipples harden in your tank, and his other hand slides down one of your breasts, brushing against it.

"Can you forgive me for being an idiot? Would you date me?" He asks then, and you can't stop your tears.

"Toru you're the biggest idiot, because I've been in love with you since I met you, since you threw a damn spitball at me, little shit." Now he has emotion in his eyes, gulping before he smiles so brightly.

"I had such good aim!"

"Shut up!" He laughs then, and he picks you up in his arms with such ease, making out with you again, as his cocoa goes cold, carrying you to your bedroom, shoving all your plushies to the floor. "Hey now, rule number one, plushies stay."

"You've had sex already!? I'm so angry." He says with a pout and you giggle, rolling your eyes.

"Well, was I supposed to wait for you to get the hint? It's been years."

"Yes!"

"And you waited?"

"Well no. But... fine then, I'll just have to make you forget anyone else." He says softly, fingers brushing your shorts to the side, feeling you so wet, and he moans at that, licking an already glossy lip as you gasp, clinging to him.

"And will I make you forget anyone? Including your pretty Insta baddie?" You tease softly, and he smirks then, sliding a thumb up to circle your clit, eyes never leaving your face, watching every expression. You can't stop the soft moan from leaving your mouth.

"Oh, sweetheart, you're so pretty like this." He says, and you're pulling his face down, kissing him as he does slide his fingers in, to the hilt, and you're crying out at how good it feels. He moans softly into your lips, biting your lower one. "You gonna make me forget huh?"

"Sure will- ah!" Satoru's pressing his fingers up now, on that little spot that has you seeing stars, and you’re dripping wetness down his fingers, down his hands, you hear it so squishy in your quiet room. He’s exhaling as he's sliding your top up, whistling when your tits bounce out.

"Holy fuck you're perfect." He whispers, bending down to suck a nipple into his hot eager mouth, and you're clinging to his snowy white hair. "Think I forgot any tits I've ever seen."

"Liar." You tease, reaching down his hard abdomen, eagerly unbuttoning his shirt. "We're gonna fuck on the first date? That's against my rules, Toru."

"You'll make an exception for me, won't ya pretty?" He bats his lashes as you slide the shirt off his shoulders, revealing the beautiful hard planes of his body, chiseled to perfection. You exhale, hands shaking as you touch him, slipping down the white hair under his belly button, your eyes locking with him. "Ah- ah, I'll eat you out first, I'm a gentleman you know."

"And I'm a lady, I'll suck you first." You tease back, as he grabs your wrist, turning you and slipping your shorts off, pressing you down against the bed, your thighs spread, ass up in the air, and he can see you, he can see you wide open. He sighs, bending low to bite on your ass cheek playfully. “Toru!”

“Your pussy is so pretty, I knew it would be.” He’s kissing your lips now, covered in your slick already, and you’re shaking, thighs barely able to hold yourself up as he parts your folds with his thumbs, opening you up and then burying his face against you, making you scream out.

“Oh my… fuck!” You’re a mess when he laps his tongue along your slit, god it feels better than anything you can imagine, and he’s moaning, popping a little kiss on the hood of your clit.

“You taste s’good, sweetheart, s’fucking good.” He murmurs, smacking your ass now, and you jump and twitch, head falling back, he leans up, pulling your hair and your head is tilted back to him, and he’s kissing you. “Taste yourself?”

You just nod, whining, and he smiles, letting you go, pressing your head down into your soft bed, pushing your hips up and spreading you even wider. “What’re you d-doing?”

“Need to see every fucking bit of you, best friend, been hiding perfect pussy, perfect body from me? Terrible friend.” He licks up your pussy again, from your clit to your little ass hole as you cling to the blankets, whining at how good it feels, then he’s fucking you with that long tongue, and you’re gushing out wetness, pussy pulsing around it.

“And you were… holding that tongue back? How dare you. Ah!” He’s chuckling, vibrating against you, but then he is devouring you, there’s no other word for it, he’s pressing your waist down with one hand as his other grabs your thigh, and he’s scooping out all that wetness with his stupidly talented tongue. You’re close so quick it’s fucking embarrassing.

No guy had eaten you out like this, you had a few guys do it, and of course it felt good, but Satoru was on some other level, so good you’re mad anyone else has gotten to feel this before you. So good you can’t imagine not having it again, can’t imagine anything could feel so fucking intense, as he brings you higher and higher, his moans just urging you on.

“M’close, Toru…” You whine, so nervous, so much pressure in your tummy, he pulls away for a moment, biting your inner thigh, nipping the skin between his sharp teeth.

“Cum for me, sweetheart, let me drink you please?” He whispers, and you can see his damn pout, his big puppy eyes even as your face is buried in the blanket. “Can you do it, be a good girl for me?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Cumming!” You scream out now, and Satoru Gojo, your best friend, is drinking it up, as it rocks your entire body, leaving you weak. He’s leaned up now, shoving two fingers in, and you hiss at the stretch, crying out at how good it feels, especially when he’s yanking you up by your hair, on your knees. “Toru!”

“Mmm, forget anyone else already?” He whispers against your ear, and you nod weakly. “Gonna need you to say it, bestie.”

“F-forgot anyone ever. S’much better. You’re s’much better.” You’re mumbling as you speak, head leaning back against him, rocking on his fingers, and he chuckles against your ear, tickling it.

“Cumming again just from this?” His husky voice does more and more, as his cocky nature mixed with his talented fingers are wrecking you. “You’re so weak here, aren’t you?”

“Mnh, cocky little- shit!” You’re cumming all over his hand, shaking violently, and Satoru’s groaning, easing his fingers out, sliding them in your mouth now, shoving so deep you feel tears start to fall, gagging you as you suck them eagerly. He looks at you, desire making his eyes so dilated all you see is a ring of blue, his pouty lips parted.

“Oh fuck you’re so pretty like this, in tears.” Satoru whispers, and you’re trying to turn then, to kiss down his body, to suck him, but he’s got an arm around your waist and you’re hearing his belt buckle. “Can’t wait, need to feel ya around me, baby.”

“Lemme suck you, meanie.” You glare back at him, and he chuckles, white teeth glinting in the evening, in your dark room with just the hint of moonlight streaming in. Satoru shocks you then, flipping you over on your back, and you see his beautiful length, thick and long with a pink tip, weeping with pearly precum. You try to stroke him but he grabs your wrist, putting it over your head.

“I’ll bust quick if you touch it, I’m too excited.” He says then, glaring down at you, and you let out a breathy laugh, but it’s cut off when he lifts a thigh, and presses into your entrance. You gasp, clinging to him as he fills you so full, just the tip at first and Satoru is moaning over you, eyes locking on yours. “Oh my god…”

“Oh my god…” You whisper at the same time, then he pushes in further, every motion you make does not escape him, his eyes are all over you, and his own eyes flutter shut for a moment as he sinks in, further and further. Finally he’s so deep his tip is hitting your cervix, and you feel so intensely it’s as if you can’t breathe. “Satoru! Satoru… Satoru…”

“Fuck you feel s’good, sweetheart. S’fuckin… ah!” He’s crying out too when you tentatively roll your hips, then he’s gripping your hips tightly, thumbs pressing into your hip bones, shoving them down into the mattress. “Don’t do that!”

You laugh, breathless, reaching up and cupping his perfect face, the face you’ve loved so long. “Don’t move?”

“Don’t yet. Ah- ah- ah.” He’s stroking in and out of you now, groaning, his thickness stretching you, and you’re clinging to his back, nails digging in, and Satoru is whimpering, he’s fucking whimpering again, and it’s so sexy, it’s so hot. How into you he is, how he’s so vulnerable, as he rests his forehead on yours, exhaling. “You’re made for me.”

“Am I, Satoru?” You whisper, and he nods then, making you choke up. “When you say that… ah! It means… more than-”

“I want it… fuck… to mean more.” He answers, pumping inside, as you hear the squelching wetness of your slutty little cunt sucking him in, even though he’s stretching you so much you can’t take it. She wants him, you want him, as he’s rolling his hips, muscles flexing with every thrust. “This means so much. It does, it does.”

“It does for me too. It does, it does.” You are crying now, as he kisses your lips, swiping his thumbs across your cheeks, his lashes so long they tickle your own cheeks, his tongue moving in the same rhythm his cock is.

Now Satoru raises one of your thighs, looking at you carefully. “Can you take it harder baby? Can’t hold back.” You nod then he moans, and now he’s fucking harder, faster, slapping of skin so loud with every thrust that shakes your bed, and your head falls back as you start to build up again. He’s got a hand under your chin, pressing on your pulse points, moaning. “That’s it, lemme feel you pretty girl.”

At his urging, at him squeezing your throat, you’re cumming all over Satoru Gojo’s thick, veiny cock, and he’s moaning, his blue eyes so vivid, the pupils just pinpoints, as he kisses you everywhere he can reach. He slides your hand then, putting your fingertip on your clit, and you whine at the overstimulation, still weak from cumming so much.

“Play with it, please, let me feel you cum again.” He asks breathlessly, and you weakly rub your clit, soaking wet and twitching as Satoru pumps in and out of your cunt over and over, making you feel like you can’t focus on this realm anymore, you’re floating somewhere, heady and dazed. “You’re so beautiful, my god.”

“Love you, sorry, love you.” You can’t hold it in anymore, and he shakes his head, as he’s pumping more and more, and you feel him thickening, pulsing.

“I love you.” You cry then, even as you feel so much pleasure, so overwhelmed as he’s got your thighs pressed up, as he’s cupping your face. “I love you too. I love you, I love you.”

“Satoru… love you so much. Always.” You whisper back, eagerly kissing him as your hands clutch the blankets below you, and Satoru is emotional above you, his tears and sweat dripping down your face.

“Wanna cum in you. Please.” He begs then, and you nod, as he fucks you even harder, slamming his lips against yours, chasing his own release. “Oh my fucking… oh my god, you feel… oh my…”

Satoru’s pumping cum inside you so deep, and you’re crying out as it makes you cum, just his thick white ribbons streaming through your pussy, coating your walls that are fluttering around him. He exhales, as you’re a twitching mess under him, pumping his cum deeper as he caresses your face, grinning at you, a sweaty, sexy mess above you now.

“I love your pussy oh my god.” He says, and you giggle, struggling to come to as you realize with a blush that his cum is dripping down you.

“I love everything about you, Satoru, I always have.” He kisses you over and over, your face, your cheeks, your lips.

“I was so stupid, I’ll make it all up to you.” He’s leaning up on his elbows, shoving two fingers in your pussy again, and you cry out, back arching, for him to suck on your nipples, moaning.

“Satoru, it’s too much…”

“I have so much making up to do. Aw, are you cryin again? Fuck you’re pretty doing that.” He smirks down at your tear streaked face, then you wonder just what you’ve gotten yourself into with Satoru Gojo.

Gojo Drabbles/ one shots - Masterlist

[taegimood]

mj!! i just saw a tiktok thats like "check ur tone before talking to my girl / watch how u talking to her" and neow i need urbig brained delicious thoughts (sfw or nsfw idc!) on possesive/protective!txt !!!!! 🧎🧎

omfg help… instant wet panties 😵‍💫 i hope this is what you had in mind~

edit: y’all i’m CACKLING at these responses i PROMISE it’s not btob minhyuk in soob’s 💀 i just used the first name that came to my mind HAHAHSKSNJ

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yeonjun would not HESITATE.. you’d be at a party together, splitting off for a bit to hang with your respective friends; as protective as he is, he knows you can handle yourself so he’s not immediately racing over when he sees the guy that approaches you.. though his eyes might as well be burning little fires into the guy’s head from the way he’s staring across the room. he’s keeping an eye on his every move, unbeknownst to you; you’re just minding your business, chatting with your friends, and this rando is getting a little too close for comfort, talkin bout sum “why don’t you pay more attention to me instead ahaha” and it’s when you reject his continual advances that his face sours and the name-calling starts. “don’t be such a bitch, you’re lucky i’m even-“

“watch your fucking mouth before i shut it for you.” aaaand there’s yeonjun, seemingly coming out of nowhere. his hand is fixed in an iron grip on the guy’s wrist which had been extending towards you, staring him down — literally down, yeonjun’s height easily surpassing his — with every indication of “i’ll fuck your shit up if i have to” in his eyes. you can tell right away that the guy’s bark is much bigger than his bite as his own eyes are wide, attempting to yank his hand away to no avail, before yeonjun finally releases his grip a few moments later to watch him quickly retreat back into the crowd after some hastily-mumbled apologies. yeonjun scoffs and throws an arm around your shoulders, grumbling and eyeing the area as you just look up at him with a cocked brow and a growing smile, like hello how’d i bag such a baddie ??? him catching your stare and when you jokingly ask “jealous?” he’s rolling his eyes and grumbling about how no one can talk to his girl like that.. he sticks with you the rest of the night, getting extra grabby as you leave to go home — “gotta get your mind off of limpdick lee 🙄” — and you can imagine how the rest of the night goes when he’s determined to show you exactly how you deserve to be treated by a real man 🤤

soobin, bro.. you don’t even see it coming. usually your boyfriend gets pouty and grumpy when he’s jealous, more cute than anything, so you can’t even believe your eyes — or ears — when this time he actually gets scary. not scary for you; you’re just terrified for the other guy. this is the first time you’ve really seen him get so protective; you’d joined him for some schoolmate reunion party that he didn’t even wanna go to in the first place, grumbling about how awkward it would be (but then blushing and grinning to himself when you pointed out how awestruck everyone would become over his 100/10 visuals) and so here you are, his hand in yours as you walk around being introduced to his old classmates. it’s when he leaves you with a kiss on your cheek to go use the bathroom that it happens. you’re perusing the refreshment table, deciding which drink to grab for soobin, when this guy that’s been hanging around the table starts edging himself closer to you. you nearly jump out of your skin when you glance up to see him already staring from 3 feet away. this dude (whose icky school reputation you’re unaware of) becomes relentless in his “flirting”, talking about your body, trying to touch your hair, making you all-around uncomfortable as fuck until suddenly he stops mid-sentence and just stares up at something past your head like a deer in headlights. confused, you turn around and soobin is suddenly standing right behind you with the NASTIEST, MEANEST, most STEELY glare you’ve ever seen grace his pretty face. “minhyuk.” his voice instantly sends shivers up your spine (and down to your core). this ‘minhyuk’ is already backing off with his hands up in surrender as soobin goes, “if you don’t walk the fuck away from her right now, i will make you regret it.” GAH DAMN…. GAH DAMN…. the way you jump his bones later is unreal i’m just sayin. minhyuk is quick to apologize and leave you alone while soobin is quick to grumble out a “we’re leaving” with an aggravated pout forming on his face, the one you know so well — but holy fuck is this about to be the roughest, yummiest, BEST sex that you’ve ever had.

beomgyu omfg 😭 he doesn’t even TRY to have any chill. you’re out shopping together and he’s already hanging all over you in the first place, ever the clingy baby, so when some guy has the AUDACITY to still come up and try hitting on you, beomgyu is not having it. you’re in the video game section arguing over which league of legends dlc you guys should download when you get home, you stopping to test out smash bros on the newest switch model while beomgyu’s got his arms around your waist, head on your shoulder and rocking you back and forth obnoxiously — “GYU YOU’RE MAKING ME DIZZY” “well pay attention to me!!! 😩” — and neither of you notice the store employee that had been lingering in the same aisle, restocking the controller shelf and sneaking glances in your direction. he makes his move when gyu gets distracted by something off to your other side, arms untangling from your waist as he leans over to take a look at the other shelf with one finger hooking mindlessly through your belt loop. “there’s actually a pretty cool new feature on that one, here lemme show you 😉” you’re standing there like 👁️👄👁️ when the voice that is not your boyfriend’s is suddenly all up in your space, this guy reaching past you from behind, going through some game settings that you’re not even paying attention to because why is this guy’s sweaty chest pressed up against my back?????? “what the fuck” aaand beomgyu has tuned back into the channel. lip curled and a 🤨 look on his face that he doesn’t even try to hide; you’re both standing there like the surprised pikachu meme for a second before the cogs start turning again. “dude. why are you touching my girl?” shouldering his way between you, arm protectively going around your waist again as he blocks the employee off with his large frame. the guy’s hands going up as he defends himself, “hey, she was asking for it.” THE WAYYYYY THAT BEOMGYU’S JAW WOULD DROP ??!?! “what the fuck did you just say?” ohhhhhhhh he’s mad now.. facing the guy while keeping you behind him, dude’s eyes widening as he realizes his mistake — “uh, i didn’t mean-“ “i don’t care what the fuck you meant, you don’t get to fucking talk to my girl like that, you piece of-” you have to DRAG him out of the store and he’s ranting the entire way, finally grabbing your face and kissing you firmly when you get to the car before grumbling “you weren’t asking for shit..” league of legends be damned, he’s fucking you good the second you get home.

taehyun….. 👁️👁️ is it hot in here already….? you guys don’t go clubbing often, but when you do, your boyfriend is like a blinking neon sign that reads “touch my girl and i’ll run you into the ground 😀.” he hates leaving you alone even for a second, not because he doesn’t trust you, but because he doesn’t trust “all these fucking horndogs that wanna get with you.” his words, not yours. barely drinks anything at first cuz if he has to pee then he has to leave you alone 💀 eventually you convince him to be more chill, have some drinks, and you’re enjoying yourselves — pressed all up on him on the side of the dance floor 🤤 — until begrudgingly he finally excuses himself to the bathroom. you stay put, bopping your head along to the music as you sip at your drink, leaning against the wall to avoid getting knocked into by any dancing bodies. perhaps this backfires, however, when one of those bodies, fairly drunk and heading straight for you, cages you in with his arms before you can even process his intention. his breath reeks of alcohol as you flatten yourself as much against the wall as you can, eyes flitting nervously towards the direction of the bathrooms, praying taehyun will be quick as this manchild croons to you about how he’s been watching you all night and couldn’t wait to get you alone like this. “my boyfriend’s gonna fuck you up,” you mutter, and fuck him up he does. in a flash the guy is on the ground, reeling from the gut punch he just received, taehyun standing there with a terrifyingly calm look on his face. “what do you think you’re doing?” there’s a warning in his eyes, a warning that this bitch ignores as he stumbles to his feet, throwing all kinds of colorful words at the both of you, before stopping mid-tirade as taehyun steps forward calmly, gripping the guy’s collar in his fist as he stares down at him and says with gritted teeth, “you have 5 seconds to walk away before i shove my foot so far up your ass that you’ll be tasting leather. try touching my girl like that again and see what fucking happens.” the raging storm in his eyes paired with the level tone of his voice has your thighs squeezing together despite the situation, and when the man scurries away, you almost feel dizzy at the burning kiss taehyun gives you. muttering “we aren’t coming here again” as he immediately leads you out to the car, heading back home where the filthiest fuck of your life awaits you 😍

kai tends to get quiet when he gets jealous. his instinct being to close himself off more, becoming a careful observer rather than an outright confronter; which is why you’re taken so off guard by the open display of back the fuck off that he dishes out one day when you’re at a convention together. you’re exploring the different booths hand in hand, gushing over the merch tables and limited edition figurines, debating whether or not you should add to your shared plushie collection — when suddenly from behind you comes a low “damn, what a nice ass.” you almost don’t catch it at first. you almost don’t process that it’s being directed at you if not for kai freezing beside you, gaze snapping over his shoulder to the crusty man stood eyeballing you shamelessly. you’re both in shock for a moment until an uneasy feeling creeps over you, and kai can tell. “what did you just say?” your eyes flicker up to him and widen; you’ve never seen him look so serious. his tone is careful, but you can tell that he’s angry. the man is rolling his eyes and saying something like “i wasn’t talking to you, kid, was i?” as he reaches forward as if ready to tweak at your skirt with his fingers. you quickly back up into kai and his hand is flashing out at lightning speed to shove the man’s arm back. “you need to step away.” he’s firm now, holding his ground even as the man sneers at him and starts, “yeah? or what-“ “you need to step away right now before i fucking make you. do not try me.” you’re GOBSMACKED, is this really your sweet plushie loving boyfriend ??!!?!? whatever sexy protective spirit possessed him, you hope that it stays, because the man is visibly shaken even as he scoffs and leaves the booth behind. you turn to look up at your boyfriend whose brows are furrowed over dark eyes, and he’s quickly asking if you’re okay, asking if you want to leave, rambling out questions of concern that have you interrupting him with a simple statement: “i’m gonna suck you off so good later.” his face turns bright red as he stops functioning for a second before groaning and mumbling all these things about how you should be treated like a princess and an angel and.. let’s just say that you definitely feel like one later that night after he’s done with you <3

[writeriguess]

Hiiiiiiiiiii I was wondering if you write for Dabi (bnha) and if so could you have a super oblivious reader? He has strong feelings for her and she feels the same way, but she doesn't have a lot of self confidence and is so convinced he couldn't love her that she doesn't notice the signs that he *does* at all. Shigaraki or Dabi himself have to spell it out for her. I hope you're doing well c:

author's note: Yes of course I write for Dabi <3

Burning

The first time Dabi realized he had it bad for you, he almost laughed at himself. Him? Catching feelings? What a joke.

But the joke was on him, because now he was stuck with it—with you, this annoyingly sweet, absolutely clueless little thing who had no idea how deep he was in. He'd tried to make it obvious. He stuck around when he normally wouldn’t, let you ramble about whatever nonsense filled your head, stole you food when you forgot to eat. He even softened his usual sharp tone when he spoke to you, which, coming from him, was practically a love confession in itself.

And yet, you remained completely, infuriatingly oblivious.

"You gonna keep starin’ at her, or are you actually gonna grow a pair and say something?" Shigaraki drawled from across the room, idly scratching at his neck.

Dabi clicked his tongue, tearing his gaze away from where you were sitting on the worn-out couch, nose buried in a book. "Mind your own business."

Shigaraki just smirked. "It is my business when I have to watch you pine like a damn schoolboy every day. It’s embarrassing."

Dabi scowled, but before he could snap back, you looked up. "What’s embarrassing?"

He didn’t miss the way your gaze flickered to him, then away just as fast, like you couldn’t possibly believe he was the topic of conversation. He clenched his jaw.

"Nothing," he muttered. "Shigaraki’s just talking out of his ass again."

You smiled, and something about how soft it was made his stomach twist. "You two are always bickering. It’s kinda cute."

Shigaraki barked out a laugh. "Yeah? You think that’s cute? What about Dabi stealing food for you every damn day? Or how he only ever watches your stupid movies when you put them on? Or—"

"Shut up," Dabi growled, but the damage was done. You were blinking at Shigaraki like he’d just spoken in a foreign language.

"Wait… what?"

Shigaraki rolled his eyes. "Holy shit. You seriously didn’t notice?" He gestured vaguely at Dabi. "This idiot’s practically in love with you."

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Dabi felt his face heat—though whether it was from anger or something else, he wasn’t sure.

You stared at him like you were trying to process some impossible equation. "But that’s… no. That doesn’t make sense."

He scoffed, forcing himself to lean back against the couch, arms crossed like he wasn’t seconds away from combusting. "And why’s that?"

"Because you’re you. And I’m just… me."

Dabi’s jaw ticked. "You say that like it means something."

You looked away, fingers twisting in your lap. "It does. I mean, you could have anyone. Why would you…"

He let out a slow breath through his nose. "You really are a dumbass."

Your head snapped up, eyes wide. "What—"

"I don’t do this kind of thing, alright? I don’t stick around. I don’t care about people. But you—" His voice dropped, rough with something raw. "You got under my damn skin, and now I’m stuck with it. So yeah, I like you. I thought I was making it obvious, but clearly, that was giving you too much credit."

You opened your mouth, then shut it again. Then, after a moment, you let out a shaky laugh. "You are making it obvious. I’m just an idiot."

Dabi smirked. "Yeah, but you’re my idiot."

The warmth in your gaze made something in him settle, just a little. Finally, finally, you got it.

Shigaraki groaned. "Thank God. Now can you two get out of my sight? I’m gonna throw up."

Dabi didn’t look away from you as he flipped Shigaraki off. Because for once, he didn’t care about anything else.

Not when you were looking at him like that.

But of course, nothing was that simple. Because while you finally realized how he felt, you still couldn’t seem to believe it.

The next day, Dabi caught you staring at him, eyes narrowed, as if trying to puzzle something out. When he raised a brow, you quickly looked away, face heating.

It happened again at dinner. And again when you were sitting together, watching some dumb show you liked. Every time, you’d glance at him like you were trying to see what Shigaraki had pointed out, and each time, your expression would shift into uncertainty, like you still couldn’t quite accept it.

Dabi sighed. "Are you gonna say something, or just keep staring at me like a creep?"

You flinched. "I’m not staring."

"Yeah, you are."

You fidgeted. "I just… I’m trying to understand."

Dabi frowned. "Understand what?"

You bit your lip, hesitating. "You really like me?"

He groaned. "Are we seriously still on this? Yes. I like you. I want you. Do I need to spell it out more? Want me to tattoo it on my forehead? Because at this point, I might as well."

Your face turned red, but you still looked doubtful. "I just… I don’t get why."

Dabi dragged a hand down his face. "You ever think maybe it’s not something you have to ‘get’? Maybe you should just accept it and stop making this harder than it needs to be?"

You still looked unconvinced, but after a moment, you exhaled. "Okay."

Dabi narrowed his eyes. "Okay?"

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Okay."

For the first time in weeks, Dabi felt like he could breathe. "About damn time."

You laughed softly. And when you leaned just a little closer, Dabi figured maybe this whole feelings thing wasn’t so bad after all.

Feel free to request <3

[shurisneakers]

unsolved (xii)

Summary: Bucky doesn’t even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet’s amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky, obnoxious reader, forests, sabotaging

A/N: no memes this chapter i ltrly just wanted to get one out but they will return next chapter trust. please ignore formatting errors and typos. I literally edited this whole thing and formatted it on my phone and it lagged and glitched the entire way.

Previous part || Series masterlist

The morning, though loud and annoying, has a particular ease to it.

There’s ridiculously hot coffee. Scraping forks and crunch from burnt pancakes. Multiple conversations layered over the sound of Bruce’s ridiculously long voicemail playing on speaker.

“--just checking in. Hope you’re still alive. If not, well, I guess you won’t call back. Anyway, Steve, if you get this, tell Bucky-”

Bucky rejects the phone sliding across the table towards him without even looking at it. “I’m not listening to that. Last time spent fifteen minutes before telling me that his shorts were in my laundry load.”

Nat hides a small, amused smile behind her coffee mug.

Clint finishes what might have once been a waffle, but has now been smothered into an unidentifiable state.

Bucky is exactly where he always is, at the end of the table, hoodie sleeves shoved up, coffee in one hand, headphones on with no music playing, just so that he has an excuse to not talk.

Someone’s already taken a bite of his toast and he’s been glaring about it ever since.

Until you walk in. Half-dressed for the day already, jacket thrown over your shoulder, keys spinning on your finger.

He looks up when you walk in, taking his headphone off one ear and giving you a curt nod when you wave at him. It takes him too long to realise his lip is curled up in the corner.

And that someone’s taken his toast.

“You going somewhere?” Sam asks, barely looking up from his Kindle.

It’s offhanded, like he only just registered the way you’re dressed.

“Yeah. I’m leaving.”

The table pauses. Your face doesn’t betray any emotion but Bucky registers your jaw tightening in the most miniscule manner. Like you’re waiting for a challenge, anxious energy vibrating from you, but standing your ground nonetheless.

Steve flips the page of his newspaper. “Eat something before you go.”

“If you’re coming back late, leftovers will be in the microwave,” Nat says, reaching for more marmalade.

Sam's finger swipes across the screen. “Text if you need anything."

Your shoulders loosen a little.

Bucky reaches for another slice of toast, hiding a smile behind the chipped coffee mug that Clint got him from some garage sale in Lithuania? Maldives? Somewhere.

“A'ight,” you say, stealing the newpiece of toast off Bucky’s plate, ignoring his complaints, and taking a bite.

Eventually, Steve asks, “Where you headed, anyway?”

You chew for a second before grinning around your mouthful.

“Bigfoot.”

Another collective pause follows.

Sam exhales. “I don’t want to ask, but I feel like I have to.”

You finish chewing. “Haunted reality competition. Going to Washington to look for Bigfoot. Loch Ness. You know. The classics.”

Nat hums. “Loch Ness is in Scotland.”

You shrug unaffectedly. “Then I guess we’re only finding half the legends.”

“Can I come?” Clint pipes up. “I have exper–”

“No.” Sam shakes his head. “Last time you did one of these, I had to read an article titled ‘Avengers Caught in Paranormal Disaster?’”

Clint hums. “Disaster is a strong word.”

Sam throws a look at him. “You fell through a wall.”

Clint shrugs. “Weak wall.”

“You fell twice.”

“Weak architecture.”

You grin, finishing the toast, before squeezing Bucky’s shoulder. “You coming?”

Bucky reaches for the third piece of godforsaken toasf. “My bag’s in the car.”

“See you there.” You grab your jacket and walk out the door.

The second you’re gone, the entire table turns to Bucky, eerily in sync.

He immediately puts the headphone back on his exposed ear and doesn’t even glance up, even though his face starts burning immediately because he knows. He fucking knows what’s about to happen.

“What,” he bites.

Steve shakes his head. “Unbelievable.”

Sam leans back, stretching his arms. “Man, you’re not even pretending anymore.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He desperately swallows down his coffee to get out of there as swift as possible.

“Dude. You had your bag packed before you were even asked.”

Bucky shrugs, completely unbothered. “Usually I don’t get asked.”

Nat finally speaks, slow, knowing. “Yeah, you made it pretty clear you don’t need to be.”

Silence.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You loser.”

Bucky grabs a piece of bacon and makes an ungraceful exit like the superstar that he is.

Someone steals his stupid toast for the third time.

_________

The road stretches out ahead, empty and winding.

The kind of road that doesn’t feel fully real. Just an endless stretch of trees and sky, the occasional fading sign pointing toward a town no one’s heard of.

The car hums steady beneath you, the windows cracked just enough to let in the cool air.

The radio is low, playing some random playlist, but mostly, the background noise is Bucky’s occasional exhale at the nonsense you're spewing and the smooth glide of the tires on the road.

You’re driving, one hand lazily on the wheel, the other resting near the console. Bucky is in the passenger seat, hoodie sleeves pushed up, one knee braced against the door.

He looks comfortable.

That only means it's time to ruin it.

“I looked up the competition details again.”

Bucky hums, shifting slightly. “And?”

“Wanna guess what the prize is?”

“Please don’t say money. That would make this worse.”

You glance at him, amused. “Why would money make it worse?”

“Because then I’d have to think about the fact that you’re technically employed by cryptid clout chasers.”

"That's not how it works." You snort, shifting gears. “It’s not money.”

“Then what?”

You pause, letting the anticipation build before saying,

“A trophy.”

“A trophy,” he repeats, flat.

You nod, grin widening. “And not just any trophy. A gold-plated bust of Bigfoot’s head.”

“I hope we lose.”

“You’re gonna love it when we win.”

Bucky gives you a look. “What does winning even mean in a Bigfoot competition?”

You shrug. “You have to submit video evidence. Best sighting wins.”

Bucky shakes his head. “What does second place get?”

“A silver-plated bust of Bigfoot’s head.”

He pauses. “…And third?”

You grin.

“Bronze Bigfoot.”

“Fourth place it is, then."

"As if. We're gonna dominate, baby."

The miles slip by, unnoticed.

At some point, you tilt your head toward him. “How’s Alpine?”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “She’s started ripping up my curtains again.”

You nod like this is completely reasonable. “What did you do to her?”

“I’ve done fuckin’ nothing. I got her a bed. I got her some stupid toys. I even made a dumb scratch post. She just won't let up. What’s her fuckin problem?”

“You know she’s doing this to fuck with you, right? She thinks it’s funny that you get mad but then get her new things every week.”

“Yeah, and she told you all this herself, yes?”

“It’s not like we talk about you. We talk about other things, you just come up occasionally.”

“I don’t care about the opinions of some fuckin’ cat.”

“Witch cat.”

“Whatever.”

Bucky shifts, rolling his window down slightly, letting the air move through the car.

At some point, he tilts his head slightly, studying you.

You’re focused on the road, fingers tapping absently against the wheel in time with the music.

The sun filters through the windshield, casting soft light against your face.

Bucky doesn’t look away immediately.

The road stretches on.

_______

The road narrows into a dirt path, the wheels crunching against gravel as you pull up to what can only be described as a God-abandoned nightmare.

The campground cabins sit at the edge of the woods, weathered, slightly crooked, and looking like it has at least five different species living in the walls.

Front porches are warped, the railing missing entire sections, and the windows look more decorative than functional.

Bucky stares out the windshield.

“I want you to understand something,” he says.

You hum, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Yeah?”

“This is worse than any warzone I've been in.”

You snort. “You’ll be fine.”

Bucky just looks back at the cabin and immediately rolls his window back up.

You swing the car door open, stepping onto the gravel, stretching from the long drive. The air is cool, crisp, smelling of trees and damp earth.

Across the clearing, you can see the other teams arriving, unpacking gear, setting up equipment.

There’s a mix of energy. Some people look like actual professionals with camera rigs and audio setups, the other half look like they googled ‘how to catch Bigfoot’ once and immediately packed a bag. You were a healthy middle. This made you better than them in many ways.

Bucky watches a guy in a bright orange jacket gesturing wildly at his partner.

“I’m telling you, we should’ve brought the infrared–”

“We couldn’t afford the infrared, Jason–”

“To win, we must invest-”

“There are people worse than us,” he points out. “I didn’t think that was possible.”

You grin, nudging the trunk open. “Wait till you see the matching team uniforms I got us.”

“I would literally rather die.”

You grab your bag, “Well, you can't right now, because we’re gonna have to socialize.”

Bucky, grabbing the bag from you instead and slinging it over his shoulder, pauses mid-step.

You gesture at the other teams. “We should at least know who we’re up against. Plus, I wanna see who looks the most insane. That’s how we weed out our biggest competition.”

Bucky does not bother saying otherwise, “I’m not doing any talking.”

You grin, pleased at the complete breakdown of his will to your wishes.

“Come on, babygirl,” you say, patting his arm. “Let’s go meet the competition.”

Bucky scans the area.

A guy in a tie-dye hoodie and cargo shorts is holding a homemade electromagnetic sensor, waving it over the ground. To his left, a woman in head-to-toe camo is assembling what looks like a makeshift crossbow.

And then, the competition makes itself known.

A guy in a bright orange jacket and an unnecessarily dramatic scarf saunters over, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

You immediately recognize him as the guy who was arguing earlier about infrared cameras.

He stops a few feet away, surveying you both.

“New team?” he asks, voice way too serious.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “No, we’re just tourists.”

Orange Jacket ignores him, turning to you. “What’s your strategy?”

You tilt your head. “For what?”

“For winning.”

You glance at Bucky. “Do we have a strategy?”

Bucky shrugs. “Sex appeal. I thought you wanted me to take my shirt off."

Orange Jacket does not blink. “Unconventional.”

You nod. “We like to push the envelope.”

Orange Jacket finally sticks out a hand. “Jason.”

You shake it. “Nice to meet you, Jason.”

Jason gestures vaguely to the chaotic scene behind him. “We’re one of the top teams here. We’ve been finalists for three years running.

“Wow,” Bucky says. “That’s… impressive.”

Jason squints. “You don’t sound impressed.”

“Oh, no, I am.” Bucky says flatly. “I’m very impressed.”

Jason stares at him. “This is a sport.”

Bucky presses his lips together.

You butt in before Bucky has an aneurysm, “Well, Jason, I wish you the best of luck.”

Jason nods solemnly. “You’ll need it more.”

And then he disappears back into the crowd.

Bucky watches him go, then glances at you. “I hate him.”

You hum. “It’s important to have a nemesis.”

Bucky exhales, shaking his head. “You already took that spot months ago.”

“I think that’s so sexy and romantic. It’s a shame we aren’t making out angrily right now against that tree.”

Bucky stares. You stare at him.

“Which tree?” he asks finally.

“Bitch, why is that your question? Do you have a preference? All trees here–”

Before he can respond with something equally stupid, another group approaches. A trio of women, all wearing flannel, all looking wildly competent.

The one in front nods at you. “You guys here for fun or for real?”

You grin. “Why not both?”

She nods. “Alright, respect.”

Bucky glances at them, mildly suspicious. “What’s your deal?”

“Expedition research group,” she says. “We do deep-dive investigations into folklore and cryptids.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “You’re real scientists?”

One of them smirks. "About as real as it can get.

You pipe in immediately, “So, which one of you has the best Bigfoot sighting story?”

The woman gestures toward her friend, a tall redhead who looks like she could fight God and win.

“She saw something in Oregon once.”

The redhead nods sagely. “Could’ve been a bear. Could’ve been Bigfoot.”

You nod. “Incredible.”

Bucky rubs a hand over his face, muttering, “This is so dumb.”

You grin. “Nah. This is a sport.”

"I guess you guys met Jason," the redhead says. "He can get crazy about these things, so I'd watch out for him. Last time they used signal jammers to make sure people got no cell service so they couldn't go too far."

"Thanks for the heads up," you tell them, glancing at Bucky.

Loud microphone feedback drags your attention away. The organizers stand on a makeshift platform, which is really just the porch of one of the only standing cabins.

A short, stocky guy in a trucker hat steps forward, raising a megaphone.

“Alright, folks!” he yells, voice gravel-thick, deeply unbothered, like he’s done this a thousand times. “Listen up. Time for the official rundown.”

The teams gather around, some paying full attention, others already looking like they’re plotting ways to cheat.

“First off, let’s get the obvious out of the way. This is a competition. So you sign the waiver, you take responsibility for your dumbass decisions.”

There’s a general murmur of understanding.

“Second,” he continues, “this year’s challenge is focused on evidence collection. The goal isn’t just to make contact. It’s to prove you did. That means photos, audio, video, footprints, fur, whatever you can get your hands on. The more convincing, the better.”

Someone from the back shouts, “What about physical capture?”

The organizer blinks, before slowly and deliberately saying, “I dare you.”

You grin. “Alright Bucky, that’s our goal.”

Bucky shrugs. "Sure, what the hell."

“Now, because we don’t want you guys running wild all over Washington state, we’ve set specific boundaries for the hunt.”

He gestures to a giant, laminated map behind him.

“The active zone is roughly thirty square miles of forest. You go outside the zone? You’re disqualified. You get lost outside the zone? That’s not our problem.”

You whisper, “That sounds like a threat.”

“Sounds like a promise," he whispers back.

The guy continues.

“We’re running this for two nights. You report back both mornings with your findings. At the end, our panel of cryptid experts will review the evidence and determine the winner.”

Bucky makes a face. “Cryptid experts?”

Jason, your new nemesis, nods sagely from a few feet away.

“This is a sport,” he mouths.

“Last thing. No physical interference. No touching other teams’ equipment, no blocking their shots, no hiding their evidence. Anything else?”

A girl near the front raises a hand. “What’s the actual prize?”

The guy puffs his chest out. “Pride. Glory.”

Silence.

He deflates. “Trophy and a gift card for 100 dollars.”

“Hell yeah.”

The guy claps his hands once. “Alright, that’s it. You’ve got the rules. You’ve got the map. Now get to work.”

And just like that, teams scatter like they’re already three steps ahead.

“The game is afoot,” you say.

“The game is a bigfoot,” Bucky murmurs distractedly before horror dawns on him. “What the fuck have you turned me into?”

“My boyfriend soon, I hope.”

Bucky ignores your last comment because he’s already dug himself a hole. “What’s the actual strategy here?”

“Step one: Figure out how we’re gonna trick these judges into thinking we actually found something.”

Bucky narrows his eyes. “And step two?”

You pat his shoulder. “Step two is your job.”

“No.”

“Step three: we pick the tree you want to makeout against.”

“Stop.”

The sun is starting to dip, streaking the sky with hazy orange and purple as you and Bucky haul your stuff inside before you start hunting.

The cabin is a structural crime against humanity, to put it kindly.

The floorboards creak threateningly with every step. The walls smell like something died in them a long time ago and no one bothered to check where.

The single lightbulb overhead flickers like it’s debating whether or not to give up completely.

Bucky steps inside, looks around once. “I am going to die here.”

You kick your bag further inside. “That’s the spirit.”

The room is barely furnished, just a rickety wooden table, two mismatched chairs, and a couch.

There’s a wood-burning stove in the corner and a door that leads to what technically counts as a bedroom.

Bucky steps forward, pressing down on the floor with his boot. The wood groans.

Bucky shakes his head, grumbling as he sets his bag down. “I was in Europe last week. I stayed in a five-star hotel.”

You grin. “And now you’re here. With me. Your life is so good.”

A sharp rustling outside makes you both pause.

You glance toward the window, which is so murky and scratched that it’s basically useless.

Bucky doesn’t move. “If that’s Jason trying to sabotage us, I’m going to throw him into the woods.”

You perk up. “Ooh, good idea. Do it on camera so I can get extra footage. I'm gonna use it as B-Roll."

Bucky levels a look at you.

You grin.

_______

The forest is quiet.

The beam of your flashlight cuts through the dark, swinging between thick trunks and scattered leaves.

Bucky walks beside you, hood pulled up because it's fucking cold, hands in his pockets.

The air is cool, the damp smell of earth settling in your lungs.

Bucky breaks first.

“You know,” he says, voice even, “I looked up Bigfoot sightings in the car.”

You glance at him, delighted. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” He adjusts his sleeve. “Some guy saw it in a Walmart parking lot. Someone else swore on his life that he saw Bigfoot at a pool party.”

“A pool party?”

Bucky shrugs. “That’s what he said.”

You squint. “Was he, like, invited? Or did he just show up?”

"Donno. I clicked out of the tab immediately."

You’re about to comment when your boot caches on a branch, making you stumble.

Bucky catches your arm without thinking, steadying you before you can fully trip.

“You good?”

You grin. “Didn’t know you cared.”

Bucky lets go immediately.

You keep walking, slower this time.

Eventually, you swing your flashlight up, watching the glow disappear into the trees. “Okay, serious question.”

“Doubt it.”

You ignore him. “Dumbest thing you’ve ever done on a mission?”

“Define dumb.”

“Up to interpretation.”

Bucky hums, considering.

“2015. Northern Italy. Steve and I were supposed to take out this arms deal happening in a vineyard.”

“A vineyard?”

“Yeah. Nice place. Good wine.”

You snort. “I love that that’s your takeaway.”

Bucky ignores you. “Anyway. Intel said it was going down in one of the cellars. Supposed to be a small, controlled environment, easy to manage. But the problem was, we didn’t have the exact location. Just a general area.”

You nod along. “Okay.”

“So Steve tells me to ‘blend in’ while he scouts the outside.”

“Did you?”

Bucky shakes his head, staring at the trees. “Listen. I was tired. I hadn’t slept. So instead of being a normal human being and just waiting, I signed up for a vineyard tour.”

You snort.

“Like, the full thing. Tastings, cheese pairings, little booklet of wine notes. The whole experience.”

“Did Steve–”

“Found me forty minutes later, mid-tour, holding a glass of Merlot.”

“Were you drunk?”

“No, but I forgot what we came there to do.”

“Did it work?”

Bucky gestures vaguely. “The deal was in the cellar. I was right.”

“Oh, so the Merlot gave you divine clarity.”

“Exactly.”

You shake your head, grinning.

Bucky watches you for a second, fingers tapping absently against his flashlight.

You don’t notice.

You’re too busy grinning at any vaguely strange movement in the woods, too busy leaning into the moment like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The wind shifts, the leaves rustling softly above you.

The moment sits there, warm and settled.

Bucky clears his throat. “Your turn.”

“Huh?”

“Dumbest thing you’ve done on a mission.”

"Oh, that’s easy.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

You swing your flashlight back toward the trees, stepping over a fallen log.

“i once spent three hours stuck in a vent because I refused to admit that my plan was bad.”

“Three hours?”

“Okay, so Leviathan training programme. Supposed to be simple. Get in, get the intel, get out.” You swing your flashlight up. “And I had a perfect route planned. Minimal exposure, minimal risk.”

Bucky hums, skeptical. “And where did the vent come in?”

You sigh. “See, that’s where things got complicated.”

Bucky snorts. “Right.”

You adjust your grip on the flashlight. “Turns out, the hallway I thought would be empty very much was not. So I had two options.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Normal options or your options?

“Oh, definitely my options.” You hold up a finger. “Option One: Hide. Wait it out. Find a new route.”

“Sounds reasonable, so I assume you didn’t do that.”

“Option Two: Take the vent system.”

“You looked at a basic tactical problem and decided that the correct solution was to crawl through the air ducts like a goddamn rat?”

“Yes. Anyway,” you continue, unbothered, “I thought it was a genius idea. Until I got stuck. Like, wedged. Completely immobile.”

“Tell me you had backup.”

“Absolutely not. And I obviously couldn’t radio in, because that would’ve been embarrassing. So I spent three hours slowly wiggling backward. Eventually went the wrong way, fell through the vent because turns out, the movies are wrong about how strong they are. Fell into a room with a bunch of agents that were following me around because turns out, vents are also not quiet.”

His laugh is soft, unguarded, a sound you don’t hear often.

You grin. “Anyway, I told them I was from security and that they failed a ventilation breach test.”

He shakes his head, muttering, “Jesus Christ,” like he can’t believe you’re a real person.

You nudge him with your elbow. “You ever get stuck in a vent?”

“No.”

“Shame.”

And then your foot catches on something that shouldn’t be there.

The ground drops out beneath you.

For half a second, you’re weightless.

Then a sharp yank reminds you you're not.

You stumble, body jerking backward as Bucky’s hand locks around your arm, hauling you back onto solid ground.

If you weren't so focused on that fact that you almost face planted, you would have noticed that Bucky's arms were both around your shoulders, holding you steady. Turns out his metal arm ran warm.

There’s a dull, heavy thud as the dirt fully collapses in front of you, revealing a man-made pit.

“What the fuck?”

Your flashlight beam dips into the hole. It’s deep enough to trap someone, but not deep enough to kill. The bottom is just dirt, loose leaves, and some broken branches.

“Okay,” you say, lowering your voice. “So, on a scale from ‘this is fine’ to ‘mild concern,’ where are we sitting right now?”

Bucky remains expressionless. “I’m going back to the cabin.”

“You’re quitting?”

“Yes. None of this is worth it.”

“No, but–” you gesture wildly, “we’re onto something.”

“You fell into a hole. Real something we're onto here.”

You glare. “Well, when you say it like that, it sounds stupid.”

Bucky shoves a hand through his hair, calming the mild racing of his heart in panic. “It is stupid.”

“Okay,” you say, “new plan.”

Bucky doesn’t look at you. “Is the new plan ‘go back to the cabin’?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you can stay here, but– oh,” he cuts himself off when your words register. “We’re going back?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you said so.”

His eye twitches. “We can’t go back now.”

“You literally just said–”

“Yeah, but you almost fell into a hole. We’re just gonna give up?”

You stare at him. “You’re so confusing sometimes. Can you pick a side?”

“Do whatever you want.”

“And you’ll follow?”

“Conditionally.”

You pat his cheek. “I can work with that.”

____

The cabin is dimly lit, the lantern on the table casting long shadows against the walls.

Outside, the wind has picked up, making the old wood creak and groan like it’s reconsidering its existence.

You’re still ranting.

Bucky, on the other hand, is stretched out on the couch from hell, arm tucked behind his head, looking half-asleep while you pace near the table.

“We could tamper with their equipment. Maybe not destroy it, just… compromise its integrity.”

Bucky cracks an eye open. “That’s literally destroying it.”

“Semantics.” You wave a hand. “Or we mess with their food. Make them sick so they have to drop out.”

“Jesus, no.”

You snap your fingers. “We burn down the cabins.”

“Go to sleep. Stick with the ‘stealing their flashlight plan’.”

You ignore that completely.

“They want to play dirty?” You cross your arms. “We’ll bury them.”

“You almost got buried an hour ago.”

You glare, throwing yourself into the rickety chair by the table.

“You’re not taking this seriously.”

“I did. At 12AM. I’m no longer taking anything seriously at 3AM,” Bucky mutters, shifting to get comfortable. “Go to bed.”

You peek up. “You’re taking the couch?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t have to.”

Bucky sighs, voice gruff, low. “I’m taking the couch.”

You frown. “It’s like, the worst couch in the world.”

“Not the worst.”

“It literally is.”

Bucky doesn’t argue but he doesn’t move, either.

You sigh heavily, leaning back. “Where’s the washroom?”

“Outside.”

You blink. “Outside?”

A devious smile curls at the corner of his lip. “Yeah.”

You sit up. “Like– where outside?”

Bucky tilts his head toward the door. “Outhouse.”

A long pause follows before,

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Nope.”

You exhale through your nose, standing abruptly.

“Okay.” You gesture vaguely toward the door. “I’m gonna go suffer through the outhouse now. And then I’ll eat barley for breakfast and die from the plague.”

Bucky snickers, drifting off.

“You sure you don’t want the bed? We can share, if you don’t mind.”

He hums. “What makes you think I mind?”

“Well, you’re sleeping on the birthplace of hepatitis instead of sharing a bed with me.”

“I’m being gentlemanly.”

“Oh, is this a courtship now?”

“Depends. You got a prized cow?”

“I got a witch cat and soon, a gold bust of Bigfoot.”

“Insufficient.”

“I can get Wanda to make me a cow.”

“Goodnight.”

"Did you pick that tree out yet? I saw s real good looking one right outside our cabin if you--"

"Good night."

______

The morning rolls in slow, mist curling between the trees, the cold settling into the damp wood of the barely functional cabin.

You wake up to the sound of Bucky moving around, the floor groaning beneath his weight.

You blink, squinting at the weak light filtering through the window.

“What time is it?” you mumble.

Bucky, dressed to the nines in his black hoodie and black pants, shrugs. “Dunno. Afternoon.”

You groan, rubbing your face. “You’re one of those people who wakes up before their alarm, huh?”

Bucky grabs his hoodie off the chair. “I wake up before your alarm.”

“Did you sleep at all?” You question. "I heard you tossing around all night."

He stifles a yawn. “Someone kept scratching against the door every half an hour.”

“What, like a ding dong ditch? That's so fucking lame.”

“People take this shit way too seriously,” he grumbles. “We missed breakfast, by the way.”

You swing your legs over the bed, stretching. “You making food?”

Bucky scoffs. “One spark and this place burns to the ground.”

“We’re stealing from another team, then.”

“Yeah.”

____

The campsite is already alive, teams hunched over maps, adjusting equipment, eating protein bars like they’re rationed war supplies.

You survey the scene, arms crossed, still mildly bitter about last night.

Bucky is too droopy-eyed to care. He could frankly lie down on the ground and go to sleep right now.

Jason’s team is hyper-focused, planning some over-complicated strategy.

Meanwhile, the scientist trio is sitting in a loose circle, drinking coffee, looking completely, utterly relaxed.

Your eyes land on their camera setup.

A good camera. A professional rig.

And a shovel. With dirt on it.

With the tenacity of a circus acrobat, you immediately jump to conclusions.

You nudge Bucky.

He glances at you, mid-bite of a protein bar he definitely didn’t pay for.

You tilt your head slightly toward the table. “It wasn’t Jason.”

Bucky’s eyes track the direction of your stare.

"Having a shovel doesn't mean it was them."

"you see anyone else here with shovels? Look at them. They're mocking us by displaying it out in the open right now."

"Sure. Whatever you say, sweetheart." He yawns, before he stops midway.

You, however, don't seem to notice the sleep-ridden comment that slipped out from him, for which he is grateful. He also decides that he and delirious self is too dangerous to be around you now.

“Do we kill them?” you ask.

"Bit much.”

You huff. “Sabotage them?”

Bucky nods.

You cross your arms, watching them laugh, completely unbothered, completely unaware that they’ve just become your worst enemies.

You plaster on a smile.

“Alright.” You turn to Bucky. “I got a plan. Let's go, partner.”

Bucky makes no effort to finish his protein bar faster, still fixated on where the fuck the term of endearment came from and why it slipped out instinctually.

Most of the teams are already mobilizing, gearing up for another thrilling day of hiking miles and miles through rough terrain in search of a cryptid that does not exist.

You’re currently devising the most elaborate sabotage plan imaginable.

You’re sitting on a tree stump near the cabin, arms crossed, staring daggers at the flannel trio.

Bucky, meanwhile, is standing beside you, now with a paper coffee cup he's attained from somewhere. The coffee is shit. It does not help.

After you spend 10 minutes explaining the most elaborate set of diagrams and graphs, you tilt your head toward him.

“So that's the plan.”

“Right,” he says, with all the confidence for someone who has no idea what you've been talking about.

“So how do you wanna do this?”

Bucky grunts. “Do what.”

You gesture vaguely toward the trio. “Ruining their lives.”

Bucky sips his coffee. “I’m going take a nap.”

You blink. “They ruined our first night!”

“I think they did us a favor.”

Your jaw drops.

Bucky doesn’t even react.

Just downs the last of his coffee, tosses the mug onto the cabin’s front step, and turns toward the door.

You watch him go, completely baffled. “It’s broad daylight!”

Bucky waves a hand lazily. “Give me like two hours. I'll help with whatever once I'm up.”

You watch as he steps inside, not even bothering to close the door properly.

Bucky hopes the couch swallows him whole.

Sweetheart.

Jesus Christ.

______

The day drags on, teams disappearing into the forest, hiking miles into nothingness in search of a creature that absolutely does not exist.

At some point, the sun dips low, the sky turning a hazy orange.

Bucky wakes up slowly, the kind of waking that comes with a vague sense of disorientation, the heavy quiet of the cabin settling thick around him.

His brain catches up in pieces.

The weight of the blanket over him, which he definitely didn’t get for himself.

The smell of coffee sitting on the table nearby.

The lantern glow, still softly flickering, meaning someone had kept it on.

He watches it for a second, expression unreadable.

He pushes up with a groan, stretching his arms overhead, rolling his neck to get rid of the stiffness.

And then he notices.

You’re not here.

Your notebook is still open on the table, full of chaotic, barely legible scribbling. A pen tossed carelessly on top.

Bucky exhales deeply, rubbing his hand over his jaw, waking up properly now.

Just sits there for a moment, drinking the coffee you left for him, letting his mind catch up.

Because, realistically you’re fine.

You’re probably running whatever dumbass sabotage plan you spent all day coming up with.

…But.

Bucky sighs, pushing himself fully upright.

Because he should check anyway.

Because it’s late.

Bucky sets the mug down, running a hand over his face.

Then, with a deep breath, a stretch, and the slow realization that he is awake now and might as well do something about it—

He grabs his jacket, pulls on his boots, and heads outside.

Bucky steps off the porch, rolling his shoulders, stretching his arms, shaking the last bit of sleep off.

The air is cold and crisp, the night quiet in a way that doesn’t quite sit right.

It’s fine.

He’s just gonna find you, help you finish whatever stupid idea you'd schemed up, and then leave.

So he steps toward the trees.

And then–

The ground fucking disappears.

One second he’s walking, fully in control of his life.

The next, he’s airborne.

There’s a brief moment of pure, existential realization.

Suddenly, he is fully submerged.

In cold, thick, swampy-ass water.

Bucky does not move for a second.

Just lets the absolute, soul-deep exhaustion settle into his bones.

"Fucking fine."

It’s dark as shit, his flashlight is gone, and the air smells absolutely rancid.

Something slithers nearby, slow and slick, like something large shifting just beneath the surface.

Bucky tilts his head back, and shuts his eyes. Because of course.

Of course, this is happening.

Of course, he has fallen through something stupid and landed in something worse.

Of course, the literal universe itself has decided that he, a former assassin, a man who has survived war, torture, cosmic-level threats, should now be stuck in some godforsaken backwoods swamp.

He drags himself toward solid land, every step sucking in the mud, his metal hand slipping against the slick earth.

He grunts, pulls, mutters a long string of curses in Russian, and finally hauls himself up onto the dirt, flopping onto his back for just a second, staring at the sky in pure, exhausted disbelief.

He is so fucking done.

He does not investigate.

He does not waste a single second thinking about who might have set this up or why.

He does not care.

What he does care about is getting this shit off of him.

So he hauls himself to his feet, shakes off as much filth as possible, and marches toward the fucking outhouse.

This is a tomorrow problem.

This is actually a never problem because he will close his eyes, go back to sleep, and this will have never fucking happened.

_____

Bucky wakes up slower than usual.

His body aches in a way that suggests something terrible happened last night, which considering that was truly one with mother earth the previous night -- seems about right.

He shifts slightly, blinking blearily at the dim light filtering through the window.

You’re not here.

But that doesn’t mean anything.

Maybe you’re asleep somewhere.

Maybe you’re still out enacting whatever plan you spent all night putting together.

Maybe he should just go back to sleep.

And honestly, he almost does.

Right up until he hears the distant sound of a megaphone crackling to life.

He groans, dragging a hand down his face.

Right.

The results.

Bucky does not care.

He already knows how this goes.

Jason’s team was way too serious, had way too much expensive gear, probably faked some great “evidence” and would be lording their victory over everyone else for the rest of the day.

Which meant if he stayed inside, he wouldn’t have to witness it.

Which meant if he stayed inside, it wasn’t his problem.

Which meant—

Another muffled announcement crackles out, the sound of cheering picking up outside.

Bucky exhales sharply, shoving himself upright.

Fine.

Fine.

By the time Bucky gets there, the entire camp is already gathered.

Some teams look hopeful, some look indifferent, and some already look like they’re preparing to deliver a victory speech.

You are standing front and center, arms crossed, a distinct glimmer in your eyes.

Bucky slows his pace, scanning the situation, suspicion already curling in his chest.

You look far too relaxed.

Bucky narrows his eyes.

The head organizer steps up to the front of the group, clearing his throat, holding a clipboard.

“Alright, folks,” he calls, voice carrying easily over the restless crowd. “After reviewing all the evidence from the last two nights-”

Bucky tunes most of it out.

Jason’s team had the money, the experience, the fake confidence that made up for their lack of real skill.

And you– well.

You had plans.

But those never worked.

“--so, after careful consideration, this year’s winners are…”

A pause.

Bucky doesn’t even brace for it.

But then the announcer shouts your name.

And his.

Bucky blinks.

The camp erupts.

Someone shouts. Someone cheers. Someone yells ‘What the fuck?!’ loud enough to make birds scatter.

Bucky does not react.

Because his brain is not computing this information.

Then, very slowly, very carefully, he turns to look at you.

And that’s when it hits him.

You’re not surprised.

You knew.

You knew before they said it.

Oh.

Oh, no.

And then you whirl around, absolutely beaming, throwing your arms up.

“We fucking won, baby!”

Bucky does not blink.

He does not react.

Because he is too busy trying to figure out how exactly this happened.

Jason, however, is reacting for both of them.

“That’s bullshit!” Jason yells, shoving forward, gesturing wildly. “We had the best evidence! We had thermal imaging! We had–”

The organizer raises a hand. “The judges took into account clarity, legitimacy, and most of all–”

He gestures broadly. “Entertainment value.”

Jason splutters. “You’re saying they won because it was funny?!”

Bucky’s eye twitches.

Oh, you look way too smug right now.

Jason is still yelling about credibility and journalistic integrity, but Bucky is no longer listening.

He just stares at you.

For a long time.

Long enough for Jason’s yelling to start fading into background noise.

You are grinning like an idiot.

Against his better judgment, against every single instinct in his body telling him to turn around and go–

“…How,” he asks, voice even, slow, “did we win?”

You beam.

_____

The screen flickers, adjusting to low-light, night-vision mode.

The forest appears, eerily still.

Then a loud crash.

A thud.

The camera shakes slightly as the sound of splashing, struggling, muffled cursing filters through the speakers.

And then something emerges from the darkness.

Something large. Moving, dripping with swamp water, stumbling onto solid ground, slow and unsteady, illuminated in the grainy green light.

Bucky leans forward slightly, eyes narrowing.

The figure in the video shakes itself off, turns toward the camera, posture stiff, silhouette looming.

A perfect, pristine, unmistakable image of

Him.

Bucky stares.

Just watches himself hoodie-clad and soaked, disoriented, looking every bit like a goddamn swamp monster crawl out of the hole in full, crystal-clear night-vision.

The Bucky on screen glances up toward the camera, features still in shadow.

“Oh my god. I’m actually recording right now," you whisper excitedly in the background.

Bucky, very slowly, very carefully says, “That’s me.”

You shake your head immediately.

“No,” you say. “I just saw Bigfoot. And I recorded.”

Bucky’s brain stops working.

“Did you fucking dig that pit?”

You raise a hand, defensive. “That was for Bigfoot.”

You pause.

“…Or the other team. Whoever fell in first.”

Bucky stares at the ceiling. “And you submitted this.”

“Correct.”

“And this won.”

“Oh yeah. They loved it.”

Bucky leans back against the couch, glass eyed.

He does not respond.

______

The car rumbles along the road, the last of the wilderness fading into the distance, replaced by stretching highways and the creeping return of civilization.

Bucky is driving, one hand loosely on the wheel, the other resting against his thigh.

You’re leaning against the window, legs folded up on the seat, a half-empty gas station cup in your hands.

And a gold bust in the backseat of the car with a seatbelt on.

Neither of you have spoken since you shoved your bags in the trunk and peeled out of camp before Jason could start asking questions.

“I still don’t know how you set that up.*

You don’t even pretend to play dumb. “The pit?”

Bucky nods. “Yeah.”

“Well,” you say, “I had time.”

Bucky snorts.

A small silence follows.

“I fell into a fucking swamp," he says.

“I know.”

“I was in there for a full minute.”

“I know.”

The radio hums softly, a song playing too low to make out.

"I think we did very well. We have a real career in bigfoot hunting if we wanted."

"I'm good, thanks."

Outside, the highway stretches ahead, endless and open.

You shift slightly, getting more comfortable.

“You ever think about what you’d do if you weren’t doing this?”

Bucky glances at you.

You’re still staring out the window, watching the world blur past.

He turns back to the road, humming low in his throat. “Sometimes.”

You tilt your head, watching him now.

“And?”

Bucky exhales through his nose.

Then shrugs, like he hasn’t thought about it much, like he’s thought about it too much.

“I don’t know.”

You nod, thoughtful.

A beat goes by before you ask–

“You ever think about opening a winery?”

Bucky groans.

You laugh.

And just like that, the drive continues.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

to those who comment and tell me what u think– i love u. ur the sole reason i haven’t abandoned this lil fic. thank u for everything mwah <333333

to know when this fic updates, please follow @shurisneakersupdates and turn on post notifications! it’s the only way tumblr will let me have a taglist and i don’t post there at all except for fics </3

[clefairysoup]

What yours and Ellie’s apartment would look like and why

All the photos are from Pinterest not mine! Reblogs and comments are very appreciated. I come bearing fluff. No apocalypse and I’m not sure if someone has done this idea, I haven’t seen anything but if someone has please tell me and I will delete this

The kitchen

This is the most average broke uni student kitchen I have ever seen, and it fits you two. Ellie bought magnets that say 'eat pussy all day' and stuck them on the fridge, she told you it’s a reminder for her to come get her other meal. Anyways ellie gives of vibes that the most cooking she can do to her abilities is sticking a nasty ready meal in the microwave. More under cut

dining area

your dining area is the most boring and small place in the apartment, you both simply have no care for it. Its just a table with 2 chairs that sits in the most random spot (your fucked when people come over). Usually you eat in the living room, only ever used when you feel bad for neglecting it, cluttering things on the table of random objects that you forget about or for stealing one of the chairs for something else. ultimately useless.

Bathroom

Simple but still shows sign of use. some cute plants and odd posters and stickers ellie insists of having on the wall. Ellie definitely manages to get water all over the floor when showering, even with the curtain and your like ??? Just me thatlikes those toilet rug things but then its also gross at the same time, because thats where you shit why do you have a rug on it. Ellie has a mug that says, 'Keep calm im a lesbian' on it that holds your tooth brushes.

Bedroom

Ellie’s lazy ass would NEVER make the bed, she just rolls right outta there. Got a whole shelf and drawer to your cds and vinyls, and the many different head phones and players. Shelves of all the comics ellie loves and your things. Cringy ass pillows all over the bed. Ellie also keeps her guitar on the wall.

Living room

Once again ellie removed the ceiling lights from the living because it didn’t match the vibe. You now have over 12 lamps scattered around the room, that you find in little thrift stores. 100% have a mini fridge because you guys can’t be bothered to take 4 steps to the kitchen. 100 pillows and the throws that you try to fold up but somehow just end up pilled in a ball back to how they were. You guys own tons of board games that Ellie keeps from her childhood.

bonus

Ellie owns a freaking plakat beta fish because I said so, and she’s also an autistic nerd (someone had to say it ). She loves her fish called Hester which is an astrology term for star, that she also is nerdy af about

I hope you enjoyed me talking about my wife of 3 years, Reblogs are very appreciated

[writtenbymoonflower]

Dinner

You have a panic attack and your boys comfort you. poly!maruaders x fem!reader

cw: panic attack, negative self talk, swearing, mention of raw chicken (ew ik)

1.7k words (it's long i'm sorry)

You never thought you would cry over chicken, but here you were. You knew that you had been having a lot of busy days as of late, there were a million things swimming about in your head. But you were managing it well, or at least you thought you were. But then it all came down.

You had bought a pack of chicken earlier in the week to cook for dinner one night. It had been on clearance so you knew it was  on its way out, but you thought you would’ve had more time. You opened your fridge so you could begin cooking before your boyfriends were going to get too hungry, when you realized that the meat was out of date by a whole three days. It was something so small, yet, it sent a billion anxious thoughts jumping around your head like they were on pogo sticks, and most of them were not very nice. 

How could you be so stupid? You should’ve checked the date. If you hadn't been so lazy earlier this week you wouldn’t be wasting this food. Now there was nothing to cook and your boyfriends would go hungry. They would likely end up resenting you for being a shit girlfriend and being so-

“Dolly? What are you doing over there?” Usually Sirius’ voice was a comfort to you, but right now it just added to your misery. It reminded you of all your failures and why you would never be good enough for anyone. 

Tears started filling your eyes. You tried to still your shaking hands and even your breathing, but it was all too much. They were going to realize your mistake and were going to be angry. His footsteps were painful and your other boyfriends’ laughter in the other room made you wince. When Sirius finally was facing you, your attempt at a facade fell apart. He knew you too well and apparently your body just decided to give over to panic because you suddenly couldn’t catch your breath. You tried to mutter out an apology but your voice was caught in your throat and your pulse was hammering. 

“ Hey.” Sirius’ dark brows scrunched in concern, his gray eyes searching your face and scanning your body for any injury. “What’s wrong?” His voice was raised in panic as you stood and shook. 

Apparently Sirius’ voice triggered your other two boyfriends to barrel into the room, but you refused to look at any of them, opting to hold the chicken package behind your back and stare at the ground. James thought you looked like a small child standing in front of a broken glass, ready to be reprimanded and punished. It made his heart ache. 

“Baby,” Sirius continued to beg for a response. “What’s happened? You’re scaring me.” Remus placed a soothing hand on his partner’s back while James scooted past the both of them to grab your shoulders and stoop to see your face. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Sweetheart, can you look at me?” James spoke softly. He was just as concerned as the other two, but James was better at keeping his head, even though inside he wanted to sob seeing you like this. You swallowed thickly and looked up at him. 

“There you go.” Remus whispered encouragement from behind James. Your chest was still heaving and you were still crying, but now they could read your face better. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I-” You choked out, hoping that if you spoke about your failure early enough they might forgive your mistake.

“Hey, not right now. Just focus on me, honey. I think you’re having a panic attack, I need you to try and steady your breathing.” James motioned the other two over, Remus getting behind you and pulling you both to the ground so he could rock you in his lap. Sirius and James sat and each took one of your hands, James putting the one he was holding on his chest, while Sirius put the other on yours. (After throwing the chicken on the counter, opting to ask questions after you could speak again.) You stifled another sob from wracking your body. 

“We’ve got you, sweet girl. Just copy Prongs’ breaths, yeah?” Sirius used his free hand to tilt your chin up to meet the eyes of the two boys in front of you. You could feel James’ chest rising and falling as he took deep, exaggerated breaths. Your first few were shaky and clumsy, but soon you were finally able to get a comfortable amount of air in your lungs and your tears slowed to a stop. You still felt guilty, but at least now your head wasn’t so loud. You pulled your hands back into your lap.

“There you go,” Remus soothed from behind you. “Atta girl.” He pressed gentle kisses all over the side of your neck. You could see the two boys in front of you visibly relax at your now calmer state. “Good girl, you did so well. I know that was scary.” Remus turned so you were sitting sideways in his lap and you could see all three of the boys sitting around you. 

“ Thank you for helping.” You said sheepishly, looking down at your fidgeting hands. “I’m sorry I did that, I know it was a lot.” 

“None of that.” Sirius said firmly. “It’s not your fault, baby. You didn’t do it to be bad, you have nothing to be sorry for.” 

Wrong. You thought to yourself, remembering the spoiled food now sitting on the counter. 

“Can you tell us what happened, lovely?” James ducked his gaze to meet yours, his brown eyes were sad and confused and swimming with all too much love. 

You really didn’t want to admit your mistake, but they deserved an explanation for your erratic behavior. 

“It’s really nothing that bad.” You tried to console, as if you weren’t the one shaking on the floor not two minutes ago. “I was just-” You swallowed hard again. “I was being stupid.” You went back to picking at your nails. Your self-deprecating comment made Remus raise an eyebrow and Sirius lightly pinch your thigh. 

“You weren’t. You’re never stupid, be nice.” Remus (lovingly) scolded. 

“I was just, I bought this chicken.” You struggled to keep your breathing even. “I bought this chicken earlier this week and I was going to cook it, but I was too lazy these last few days and I fucked up and I-” You bit hard on your lip to keep from crying again. James desperately wanted to reprimand you for your self-cruelty, but he settled for grabbing Sirius’ hand and squeezing, not wanting to cut you off. 

“Go on, sweetheart. Take your time.” James spoke even softer. 

“I let the chicken go bad. I wanted to cook tonight but when I went to grab the chicken it was bad and I just- I just felt bad because I can’t do anything right. I had all week to make it and now I can’t cook for you all and I just- I just feel bad.” You took another deep breath, still not wanting to meet their eyes.

“Oh, my baby.” Sirius lunged forward, wrapping you in his arms before you could even process what was happening. Remus huffed grumpily over you being stolen from his lap, but let it go. “That’s what you were all worked up about? That’s why you were all scared?” You nodded, your face still stuck in the crook of his neck. 

“It’s okay,” James soothed, now smoothing a gentle path up and down your back. “That happens to everyone, sweetheart. It’s not something you need to be mad at yourself for. You didn’t do anything wrong, and you weren’t lazy. You’ve been busy and tired. It just happens.” James thought he could cry, his girl was so hard on herself that she was all panicked over something like this. 

“Exactly.” Remus said. “It’s nothing we can’t fix, dove. We can go to the store tomorrow and you can make it then.” You started to protest, wanting to go tonight but you were quickly cut off. “Tomorrow.” Remus was firm, but no less kind. “You aren’t doing any work tonight. You need to rest. We’ll figure something out for dinner, it’s no trouble.” 

You were going to argue but you figured it was a losing battle. 

“Thought you would be mad at me.You should be mad at me. I fucked u-” You couldn’t even finish the sentence before James squawked, Sirius sputtered, and Remus inhaled sharply. Sirius forced your head out of his neck to look at you. 

“What?!” He looked genuinely offended.

“Lovely,” James was the one who formed a full sentence. “We would never be mad at you for something like this. Never.” He grabbed your chin to make you look at him. “Look at us, sweet girl. No ones mad at you. We care about you, not a pack of chicken. It’s not worth you being this mean to yourself, nothing is.” He pouted during the last sentence. 

“Also,” Sirius said, still being very gentle. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t just about chicken, dollface. You’ve been really stressed lately.” 

“And you’ve been really hard on yourself. You always have been, but it’s gotten worse.” Remus’ voice sounding sad. You knew he was right though. 

“I know.” You sighed, dejectedly. “I’ll try to be better.” You gave them all a tight-lipped smile. 

“That’s what we mean!” James whined. “You don’t need to ‘be better.’ You just need to be gentle with yourself.” 

“It’s just hard.” You admitted. 

“I know it is, baby.” Sirius empathized. Then his face morphed into his usual grin. “How about, we all lead by example. I know I can be very nice to you.” He took your cheeks in both his hands and started pressing kisses all over your face. You giggled wetly, trying to squirm out of his grasp. “There, like that. Nice.”

“I don’t know how she is gonna do that, Pads. It’s hard to kiss your own face.” Remus attempted (and failed) to keep the amused tilt out of his voice. 

“Oh no!” James dramatically gasped. “I guess we’ll just have to.” He beamed, taking your jaw in his hand to smear even more kisses on your cheeks.

[starzblvd]

Me Espresso.ᐟ

Ellie thinks coffee tastes disgusting, but you taste delicious. Do u guys get my fire references in here, hope you babes enjoy 🍽️ Band!Ellie Bsf!ellie college!au

Hot summer nights while having your knees digging your weight into the carpet floor of your best friends small dorm room was starting to become weekly routine. Making band tees with cheap markers for her band that had its fair amount of supporters, somehow they’d sell out every time they performed. It was probably because there’d only be like 20 shirts that actually looked good enough to put out for sale.

Sitting next to you was Ellie with half of a bun she struggled to keep it together had some strands fall out and onto the back of her neck. You could smell the perfume on her, you convinced her to buy it that one time she’d agreed to come shopping with you. Wanting to be helpful you had to show her the right way to wear it, by spraying it on your wrist to then rubbing it into her collarbone, just to be helpful of course.

Holding up a finished shirt Ellie grins into the cocky face you’ve gotten to love the look of,

“Oh they’re gonna love this,”

“what your 300 Spotify listeners?”

“Ouch,” Ellie looks at you playing heartbroken to then throw the shirt right at your face. It was always banter like this, with the very few times the lines almost blurred to get somewhere further. Staying away gets harder when being with her was so natural.

“Just for that I’m so not coming to your concert tomorrow.”

“Hey hey hey I need my number one fan there, plus we’re getting ice cream after.”

You’d become a groupie to her, always front lining to every concert she was able to catch a venue in, which were basically all bars. When she’d look below to you under the neon lights playing guitar it felt like such a special moment only between you and Ellie. No crowd no other band mates, as if you knew what she was thinking of and that she wanted you too. Some of your plans started to circle around her now that she was being a bit more discovered.

”You aren’t going to talk to your fan girls?”

“Nah, I’d rather spend my time with you. You know?” Staring at each other awkwardly stopped being so awkward when they’d happen so much, it’s was perfectly normal.

And with opportunity you got to be with Ellie you already knew you’d take it. As little as you knew she was wrapped around with whatever you had been involved in too, stuck and feeding off your sweetness like a bee.

June.21.24

Just like every concert you shared your special moment, no one else can say they had Ellie’s direct attention during multiple songs. This time it was more of an outside stage with sand below you. Yellow hued string lights draped above the stage and more along the audience area. The heat was really getting to Ellie, making her glow from sweat. The black T-shirt she picked out only made her condition worse. The face framing bangs she cut herself were sticking to the side of her face.

She wasn’t even singing, but being under your watch scorched her hotter. To save herself from embarrassment she mainly looked down to her guitar playing notes, but she made a mistake looking at you when a lyric of a song she made with you in thought came up.

Tell me you never wanna lose me

Cuz I know when you call you call for me

She might’ve been a little out of it when helping writing the song, but it became too late when Dina saw the scrunched up paper and kept insisting on making it an official song for a newer album.

To you it was just another lyric that was written by anyone but Ellie. If only you knew how much she relates to your desperation to be with you in every way and any position she could. Whether your batting of eyelashes at her was intentional or not her finger slipped making an unplanned squeak slip through.

‘Fuck this is so bad she probably thinks I’m shit at playing now’

Lucky for Ellie it was the final song anyways and she could get far away from the crowd and you. Other people clapped upon their leave and when they finished their set list you knew exactly where to meet her.

”You ever going to do more than eye her when we’re up there?” Dina was putting away the instruments back to take home with help from Jessie.

“What are you even saying I don’t do that,” Ellie scoffs then sits down on a blue deflated bean bag that who knows how long it’s been in this back room.

“Oh you know what I’m talking about, your friend zone is taking longer than your time with Cat.” She crossed her arms waiting for another excuse to why she hasn’t done anything after a continued semi dating friendship since freshman year.

“She’s nothing like Cat that’s why, if I lose feelings for her after getting rejected that’s one thing but losing her completely because I fucked it up is different.” Her constant fear of never getting to be near you again because of some feelings she couldn’t stop screwed her over with overthinking everything.

In her journal it was the same thing, “She liked my shirt today, I don’t want to look weird and over wear it now, but not under wear it now. Unless she’d like to see it more often or maybe she likes my style in general she’d like me in anything?? Fucking hate this gay stuff and whys it so hard.”

One of the two large metal doors swings open with you appearing, with the smile you wore she had engraved into her mind with a hot rod of metal after sketching you a few more times she’d probably ever admit. Ellie got up and cut the short distance and accepted you into her arms trying to not look like a desperate looser that flushes over a simple hug. Her ears clammy hands didn’t make her look exactly so hot and relaxed though.

“You did amazing El’s,”

“You think so?” She lit up into a smile under your praise, no matter how many times you give it to her mind melts.

“Except for the part where she messed up on the bridge.” Ellie shot a quick mean look at Jessie, but he just turned a cold shoulder before turning away.

“At least I didn’t bump into Dina’s drums 10 times,”

While Ellie kept bickering back and forth with Jessie she still held onto you, this felt like an opening to try at doing something.

A kiss on the check seemed harmless and innocent enough to take back in the case Ellie thought it was totally disgusting. Raising your head up towards her cheek nearing the corners of her smile, pressing your lips to a pout Ellie brought her face back in your direction landing the small peck on her lips. Ellie locked in place while you pulled away, not that you wanted to, but felt too embarrassed to start a kiss you didn’t know how to finish.

“El’s ‘m so sorry, you just moved out of nowhere and-“

“No, yeah mistakes happen, it’s chill or whatever,”

Her shit faced expression wasn’t helping the full pink flush saturating deeper on her face. Ellie lowered her head to wipe the bottom of her nose trying to forget the way your lips felt, your lipgloss was still sweet on her and so was the taste of it on her tongue wiping her lips clean.

Now it was your turn to feel scared and conflicted. It was too silent in the room even with the chatter of everyone else doing their own things outside. Taking back the small kiss wasn’t so easy now that it was done and got taken up a notch further.

She dropped her arms from both of your sides, looking away from you because looking at you right now felt like looking directly into the sun.

“Ellie you should start up the car we’re done here,” Jessie throws the keys at her giving her a slight knowing look to let her go and collect herself back together.

She didn’t even say anything, walked away without a goodbye or convincing enough reassurance that would calm your nerves.

“I’m gonna go home too, see you guys.” You were left with only your actions to think about. Ellie’s response to an accidental kiss made her ran away in the other away how could’ve you imagined it going any of other way? Feeling guilt and shame were the only emotions you could feel, rethinking the crush you’ve denied yourself from paying attention to and that it should’ve stayed that way.

Instead of paying attention to the kiss Ellie let her actions drive themself, not wanting to think at all. Until she hit herself with the car door, why did I act so grossed out? Making different scenarios of how it could’ve played out a million times better she thrust the keys into the ignition.

She dug out her cracked old red iPhone from her butt pocket and threw it into the passenger side. It hit something else than the leather seat, one of the lipglosses you always carry around abandoned alone. Ellie reached for it and saw the shade label, Glassy Expresso.

It sounded like the taste in her mouth from earlier, a taste you stole from her too soon. Unscrewing the lid she contemplated just trying it on. My lips are dry anyways, she swiped the applicator across her lips twice to get an even coat and rubbed it in with her lips. Some of it slipped onto her tongue, again. If only the taste of you could come along with the gloss.

Lmk if you guys want a pt.2♡🍒

[writingfics-passingtime]

Hi lovely! Here’s my ask: Bucky and reader have been pinning for each other nonchalantly for a while but reader says something that causes Bucky to throw them over his shoulder and threatens to tickle the shit out of them (and then does it after seeing how flustered they are). Feelings get confessed, weaknesses are exposed, it’s a whole plate of fluff. 🥰😘

hell. why not? This prompt is so fun - thanks, anon! hope you enjoy x

Predictable

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (no pronouns used)

Word count: ~1500

Content / warnings: swearing, kissing, tickle fic

minors dni: this work does not contain smut, but does contain a romantic and intimate storyline between the reader and an adult-aged character. I am not comfortable with engagement from anyone under the age of 18. Thank you for your understanding and respect.

The hallway was quiet except for the sharp click of your boots and the heavy, measured steps of Bucky Barnes beside you. The mission briefing had ended, the others scattering to their own quarters, leaving you and him walking under the hum of fluorescent lights.

“You’re quieter than usual tonight,” you said, casting a sidelong glance at him. “Bored? Lost in thought? Don��t tell me you’re planning another dramatic brooding session. Maybe in front of a window, rain streaking down the glass?”

Bucky looked at you, one brow quirked, his lips curling faintly at the corner. “You done?”

“I gotta say, you’re really sticking to the dark soldier aesthetic,” you quipped, hands shoved in your pockets. “It’s impressive. Very consistent.”

His lips twitched in the ghost of a smirk. “Consistent, huh? That your way of saying I’m boring?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say boring.” You turned to him, letting your grin curl just sharp enough to bait him. “More… predictable.”

He stopped walking, his head tilting just slightly, and the gleam in his eye made something in your chest tighten.

“Predictable?” he repeated, his tone soft, like he was rolling the word around to test it.

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek to suppress the grin threatening to spread. “It’s not a bad thing, Bucky. You’re… reliable. Steady. I can set my watch by your moods - glare, brood, occasional grunt of disapproval. It’s comforting, really.”

The words hung in the air for a beat too long, and you were suddenly hyperaware of the silence and tension stretching between you.

“What?” you asked, try to hold back a smirk. “Did I hit a nerve?”

His gaze sharpened on yours, glinting with something dark and teasing that made the hair on the back of your neck rise. “You really think I’m predictable?”

The air between you crackled with tension, each word a spark igniting the unspoken feelings lurking beneath the surface. You felt a flush creeping up your neck, but you held your ground, refusing to let him see how much his attention affected you.

“I’m just saying-”

Before you could finish, he moved. Quick as a snap, his hand grabbed your wrist and yanked you toward him. You stumbled, nearly cursing, before he bent low, braced his shoulder into your middle, and straightened, hoisting you up and over.

“Bucky!” Your voice came out an octave higher than usual, your palms pressing against his broad back as you flailed. “Put me down!” you hissed, your fists pounding helplessly at his shoulders as the world spun upside down.

He ignored you, his laughter low and dangerous as it rumbled through his chest. “Still think I’m predictable?”

“Yes! You’re-” Your voice caught, your brain short-circuiting when his palm splayed against the back of your thigh to keep you steady. The touch was firm, effortless, and it did unforgivable things to your ability to form coherent words. “Y-you’re shooting the messenger. This is completely unnecessary!”

“Unnecessary?” he echoed, his tone laced with a sinister amusement. “You sure about that? Because I think this is overdue.”

Your stomach flipped at the shift in his voice - low and teasing, laced with a playful edge you’d never heard before.

He turned a corner abruptly and nudged open a door with his boot, stepping into a small, dimly lit storage room.

“Wait, what- what are you doing?” you demanded, kicking your legs uselessly. “Bucky, I swear- ”

“I’d save your breath if I were you,” he said darkly, the door clicking shut behind him.

Your mind lurched. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

A slow, devilish chuckle rolled through him. “It means, smartass, that I’m about to tickle the shit outta you.”

Your brain flatlined.

You froze. Completely froze. For the first time, your mouth opened - but nothing came out. Heat flared across your entire body, and Bucky’s amused hum was like a spark to gasoline.

“Oh,” he hummed, patting your thigh like some cruel punctuation to your embarrassment, “that got your attention.”

“Shut up!” you finally spluttered, mortified, because now he knew. Now he knew, and you’d just handed him a weapon far more dangerous than any gun or blade.

His laughter was low, dark, and - gods help you - so unfairly attractive that it only made things worse. “What, did I hit a nerve?”

Your heart slammed against your ribs. Your squirming renewed tenfold, panic spiking through you as you tried to push yourself up off his shoulder. “Don’t you dare, Bucky Barnes! I swear-”

He unceremoniously let you drop back onto your feet, your balance faltering as you collided with his chest, still breathless. You shoved at him instinctively, trying to regain your footing, but he was already advancing, backing you toward the nearest wall.

Your face was on fire now, your usual sharp wit nowhere to be found. You’d never seen him like this - playful, teasing, free - and it was completely throwing you off.

You stammered, breath catching as your back hit the wall. “B-Bucky- no! Don’t-”

“You're really worked up about this,” he interrupted, his voice low and gravelly, a smirk tugging at his lips. The shadows softened the hard lines of his face, but his eyes… his eyes burned with something else.

He leaned in slightly, caging you in with his hands braced against the wall beside your head. “You’re nervous.”

“I am not,” you hissed, even as you felt your face go hotter.

The smirk grew. “I think you’re lying.”

“I’m not-”

"Predict this, sweetheart."

Before you could blink, his hands darted to your hips, fingers digging in with deliberate precision. Your reaction was immediate - a gasp, a choked laugh you couldn’t swallow back in time.

“No!” you shrieked, laughter already bubbling out of you as you squirmed violently. “I take it back, okay?! I take it back!”

“Too late,” Bucky replied, grinning like the devil himself as his hands squeezed your sides again. “Now I’m invested.”

"B-Bucky! Cut it out!"

“Cut it out?” he repeated, his tone mock-innocent as his fingers dugs across your ribs. “I thought you were tougher than this.”

“Shut up!” you managed between gasping laughs, your cheeks burning with humiliation and something dangerously close to exhilaration.

“Is this what you wanted?” he taunted, his voice dark and edged with amusement. “When you called me predictable? Did you want me to prove you wrong?”

Your response was lost in another fit of helpless laughter as his hands found a particularly sensitive spot just under your ribs. You twisted against him, but his grip was unrelenting, his body solid against you.

You let out a strangled laugh, pressing back against the wall as your knees started to give. “You’re- you’re cool! And- and spontaneous and - Bucky - fuck! You’re hot and mysterious and-”

He paused for a second, his grin sharpening as he processed your accidental confession. “Hot, huh?” he murmured, his voice low and entirely too smug.

Your face burned like the sun. “I didn’t mean- fuck, just forget I said-”

“Oh, no,” he said, his hands still firmly on your waist. “I think we’re gonna talk about that later.”

“Buck, I didn't-”

“Nope,” he interrupted, his fingers digging into your sides again, drawing another breathless shriek from you. “We’re not done yet.”

Your laughter filled the room, wild and unguarded, as you tried in vain to squirm away. He zeroed in on your lowest ribs, his fingers hitting angles that sent you reeling. You tried to hold on the desperate peal of laughter, but it echoed through the storage room as your knees weakened further.

“Bucky!” you gasped, your voice breaking as you gripped at his jacket to try and keep yourself upright, another shriek bursting through your lips when his fingers pressed into another susceptible spot. "Please! I can't breathe- BUCKY!"

His grin softened, and for a moment, the teasing melted into something quieter, something genuine. He caught your chin gently with one hand, lifting your gaze to meet his.

“Hot, huh?” he repeated, softer this time, his eyes searching yours.

The word hung in the air, a moment of suspended silence between frantic laughter and tension thick enough to choke on. You froze, still panting, your face burning with horror.

Bucky stilled too, his gaze locking onto yours. Then, slowly, his grin returned - this time sharper, hungrier.

His lips were on yours before you could think, a sudden, fiery kiss that stole the air from your lungs.

You melted immediately, fingers curling into the front of his shirt as he pressed you further into the wall, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your neck as he tilted your head back, the other gripping your hip. The heat of it was overwhelming, his lips firm and insistent. It was messy, unpracticed, and searingly real.

When he pulled back, you were breathless, still panting, cheeks aflame. His thumb brushed your temple, sending a shiver up your spine, and the corner of his mouth curled into a smirk as his lips grazed yours.

“Did you see that coming, too?”

You couldn’t help it - you grinned against his lips. “Yeah. From a mile away.”

Before he had the chance to retaliate, you kissed him again.

[moonstruckme]

hope ur having a delightful break bb, lord knows you deserve it!!! <3 i've got a little request for you whenever you're back, if you're interested in writing it - i would love to see poly!marauders with a reader who's high and giggly and they're lightly teasing/they think it's cute!! either way, i'm sending my love and hugs and kisses to u!!! <33

Combined this with: hi lovely !! i hope you’ve had an amazing day/night <33 if you haven’t already (i’m sorry if you did, ignore this if you have !), can you write a poly!marauders x fem reader who loves sea animals and the boys decide to take her to an aquarium? Thank you both for requesting, hope this is alright <33

cw: weed

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 770 words

Sirius is fairly sure this is the best idea he’s ever had. And he will be expecting full credit. 

Your eyes are giant and filled to the brim with wonder as you stare into the tank, your face awash in a blue glow that shifts with the water. 

“A flamboyant cuttlefish,” you murmur, seemingly to yourself. 

Behind you, James squeezes Remus’ hand playfully. “You’re my cuttlefish,” he whispers. Remus groans. 

Sirius follows your gaze. “Oh, that thing is ugly.” 

“Don’t say that!” You reach back without turning around, smacking his chest lightly with the back of your hand. Your face is split into the same grin that has hardly wavered since the gummy you’d taken first kicked in. “They can change colors whenever they want. You’re totally jealous.” 

“And yet it’s chosen shit brown.” 

James releases Remus’ hand to come and crouch beside you, tracking the fish’s movements with dilated pupils. “Is that why it’s flamboyant?” he asks you.

You hum happily. “When they’re threatened, they shift colors and move their fins. They’re also highly toxic. So,” you shoot your boyfriend an impish look, “just like Sirius.” 

James’ laughter is booming. He takes on the role of your protector, sticking out an arm to ward Sirius off when the other boy grabs for you. Remus shushes them both, shooting apologetic looks towards irritated-looking aquarium patrons. 

“Where do you learn all this stuff, dove?” he asks you at a more polite volume. “TV?” 

Your grin turns sheepish. James makes heart eyes at you, thumbing at the dimple in your cheek. “Would it make you feel better if I said I read it in a study?” 

“A bit, yeah.” 

“Too bad.” 

You erupt in giggles at your own joke. James tries to catch you when you tip backwards, but instead the both of you go down, your laughter worsening. 

“Jesus,” Remus murmurs, shaking his head. He’s doing a poor job hiding his own amusement, though, the scar across his lip stretching as he suppresses a smile. 

Sirius snickers as he crouches in front of the two of you. “Having fun?” 

“Yeah.” Your grin is lopsided. Dopey. “Thanks for sharing with me. I feel nice.” 

“Anytime, gorgeous.” 

“I really like weed.” 

“Alright,” Remus steps in, hooking his arms under your and James’ armpits to haul you both up, “let’s quiet down about that, love. Go back to looking at the fish.” 

“Oh!” you gasp and point. “That one looks just like you, Siri!” 

Sirius is about done with this game, he thinks as he stands to peer into the glass. His mouth puckers in distaste. “Thanks,” he stretches out the vowels, making his insincerity heard. 

“No, no.” You throw yourself into his side cajolingly. He pretends to ignore you, and you hang off his arm, laughing. “Baby, it’s because it has fine features and it’s, like, glowy. See?” 

 “It’s a fish,” Remus points out. 

James squints, nose nearly touching the glass. “I think I kind of see it,” he says. You nod eagerly. “Why does this fish have cheekbones? Do they usually?” 

You shake your head, looking somewhat flummoxed. There’s a cute crinkle between your brows. Remus looks at you curiously. 

“Do you know what kind that is?” he asks you. 

You frown. “I don’t.” 

“Okay,” he says, taking your hand to go to the signs bordering the tank, “let’s find out.” 

Sirius is a tad jealous as you lean into Remus’ front, playing with his fingers, but Remus won't be diverted. He scans the placards until he finds it. 

“Here, it’s a flashlightfish,” he says quietly. You make a satisfied humming sound, leaning forward to scan the information with eager eyes. “Flashlightfish prefer to stay out of the sun,” Remus reads, “hiding in deeper reef waters during the day. They have small bean-shaped pockets under either eye which are filled with billions of symbiotic bacteria that emit a biochemical light.” Sirius lets the words filter in one ear and out the other, but you’re rapt. Your wide eyes shift from the placard to the fish itself, watching as its light winks in and out. “This light is used to evade predators as well as for a visual Morse code to attract mates and communicate within schools of fish.” 

Sirius watches as the two of you stand there for a minute, Remus’ arms slung loosely over your front as blue light from the tank dances over you both. 

“You could do audiobooks,” you tell Remus. Your voice is chock full of sincerity. “You’ve got the voice for it.”

He chuckles, setting his chin on your head fondly. “You think so?”

“Mhm.” 

“Thanks, dove.” 

[winterzsurprise]

Change My Mind [7]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 8.6k

IM BACK

laptop problem is solved. Shit was shady though (i literally have to pay the guy money for his 'efforts' in lying to get my laptop fixed) but its worth the money so idc. Rushed to finish this so this shit ain't beta read nor proofed, that's for Vuinterro of tomorrow to stress about. Will still take long to post chapters, might take a month per chapter. It really depends since I'm using this fic to fix my horrid writer's block and brain fog but I plan to see this fic through so dwww

also, what do you all think about having purely the boys' pov at some point in the story? Been thinking about having the boys' perspectives once the courting starts but that's prolly just me

lastly, enjoy this chapter. I hope my tired mind was able to write my vision down clearly, I'll fix the mistakes and add more details later on. Pls comment or like, I'm in desperate need for validation lmao

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______

Jung Hoseok is not scared.

Sure he screams bloody mary at the sight of bugs a thousand times smaller than him, and yeah he’s easily startled but he’s not scared.

Especially not by a piece of paper, that would be ridiculous!

The reason he went to his noona’s house instead of heading straight to the dorms after the news broke out that his Seokjin hyung is tethered to you is because she needed his help on something, and being the dutiful brother he is, swooped in to save the day!

“At least wash the dishes for me if you’re going to hide in my house because you’re being a scaredy cat,” Jiwoo says from the kitchen archway, leaning on the wall with her arms crossed. “I still don’t get why you’re so scared of a piece of paper. The most it’ll do is give you a small cut.”

“Well, that ‘small cut’ still stings a lot!” He argued back, pulling the throw pillow closer to his chest. “And I’m not scared!”

It was irrational how he’s getting cold feet at the thought of the blood result. It’s not like he was hoping to see anything other than ‘negative’ there. 

Jimin would argue that he’s being pessimistic for thinking so but it was the obvious answer if you looked at his family tree. 

From his grandparents’ parents and down to him and his sister, there hasn’t been a single tethered from his bloodline like most of the world’s population. Unlike his Jin hyung who at least had one distant cousin who got a soulmate or his Yoongi hyung who at least had his grandparents as soulmates, his family was barren from such a blessing. His grandpa had joked once, saying their family was cursed for never birthing a single tethered. Ever.

Not even with the people they ended up had ever resulted in having a tethered no matter their family background..

For him to turn out to be a part of your nexus would be a miracle of the highest degree that would make the tales in the bible pale in comparison.

Daring to have himself tested is stupid, he already knew the result and submitting his DNA meant he was hoping.

But hope is nothing in the face of facts, he should be wishing instead; prayer sticks, shaman blessings and all that.

Hoseok knew he was being greedy, wishing to be a part of a nexus relationship as crowded as yours. Growing up with the rest, he knew how much of a handful Jungkook can be on his own, matched with Jimin who now possesses bottomless energy, he has no business trying to squeeze himself in places he can’t fit in. 

Sometimes he thinks he’s being influenced by the fact that he’s being singled out in the group. Now that their oldest has joined the harem, being the odd one out oddly felt ostracizing, being subjected to Taehyung and Jungkook discussing courting gifts, and Yoongi talking to Namjoon about their soulmarks shouldn’t have made him feel bitter but it did. 

“You saying that while pouting on my couch, miles away from your friends who now have your exam result, is not helping your case.”

“If you don’t have anything nice to say to your brother, you shouldn’t have said anything.”

“I’m saying a lot because I care about you. This,” She says, motioning to him to which he replied with an offended look. “Isn’t healthy. The more you’re hiding away, the more this will haunt you.”

“You’re just saying that because you’ll have hyung over soon.”

“That I am, so just get your shit together and go! I planned a night for us but I had to move it because of you.” She shot back but he knew it had no actual snark behind it. She had welcomed him with warm arms after all.

Hoseok had seen how his friends slowly fell in love with you while he continued to look at you and see a best friend. Seeing how everyone seems to have been captured by you, he got curious.

For a long time since debut, Hoseok had stopped perfecting his craft and pursuing his aspirations to pay attention to someone else. It was uncommon but he too once wished for a soulmate until practice, video shoots, and music production began to eat up most of his time and he forgot about his initial wish.

Seeing his brothers be taken by their best friend, his crush, he couldn't help but be curious how it came to be.

Was it because you were closer to their age and, for the lack of better terms, accessible to them that they had begun to seek the comfort of a lover in you?

“Do you think because she's also been busy with us that she began to seek comfort with us too?”

“Tae, just eat your breakfast.”

It was such a random thought from Tae one random morning, and Hoseok would’ve brushed it off like the other time he gets struck with an idea but this one stuck to him like an annoying ex. The idea loomed over him the whole journey to the company and back home. He grew hypersensitive to how he approached you since that morning and he began to notice the miniscule details he would’ve shrugged off any other day. 

From how your touches would linger on their skin, how you’d comfortably lean in closer to them without batting a single eye at how unusual it may seem to others, he took note of them all. It was how he knew their leader’s feelings for you, even if the man himself hadn't noticed it yet. 

Hoseok found his proof in Namjoon’s eyes that restlessly roamed the room until he’d find you in the bustle of the staff. It was also in the way he’d always reach out for you, may it be when you’d turn to leave and he’d catch a drama-esque scene where instead of calling out for your name, Namjoon would reach for your hand and speak to you with that soft look in his eyes and the genuineness in the dip of his dimples when he smiles.

Eyes never lie nor do the dimples on his cheeks whenever he grins, even when the beholder hasn’t realized it yet.

It was then did he realise how odd your relationship is with them and decided to take a step back to draw a line. 

Friends, especially ones whose gender are opposite of each other, aren’t supposed to be as touchy and comfortable the way you and his brothers are. You didn’t say anything when you noticed and wordlessly respected his decision. He was firm on drawing the line, his sister had questioned his actions but he’s determined, nothing is going to stop him from going back on his decision.

At least until he got sick.

Without any of his brothers available to tend to him as they had to leave for Japan the very day he fainted—he had to pass out while talking to the migration officer, so embarrassing!—, he thought he'd power through it alone for a few days. But then you volunteered to stay back to take care of him and everyone just let it happen as if it's normal.

Which is not.

He'd understand taking care of him during the job but to take a leave of absence just to watch over him because his family is unavailable due to the rough weather at the time, in a house far too big for the two of you while the rest flies to another country. It wasn’t appropriate, not normal at all. 

In the haze of his high fever, he had asked you how you were acting as if the situation was normal and in response, you had hit him lightly with the drenched towel you used to wipe his face.

“Don't be ridiculous. You're one of my best friends even if you’ve been acting up these past few days. I'm not about to leave while you're sick and alone in the dorms. If your family could come to Seoul, I would've left with the others so don't overthink. This is just me being a good friend.”

Cooking for him, wiping his face and making sure he's comfortable in bed—It felt far too domestic to be friendly. 

Familial doesn't sound like the right word either. There’s nothing familial about the butterflies in his stomach when you had kissed his forehead good night that day as a joke when Jimin had called you or when you had woken him up the next day.

Oh how beautiful you were that morning.

He knew at that moment that the goddess of beauty had favorites when she made your skin glow softly under the radiance of the rising morning sun like a halo and had your messy bed hair look frustratingly good on you. 

You were borrowing their clothes that day since you had already got your items shipped with the other staff, Taehyung’s white striped polo hung off on you like a dress and Jimin’s red basketball shorts gobbled up your form yet even with the fabrics dwarfing and hiding the curves of your body, he still thinks you’re the cutest sight he has ever had the pleasure of seeing.

You were especially cute in their clothes though.

In his feverish haze, all he could think about was how pleasant it’d be if you were to wake him up every morning like an angel welcoming him to heaven. What he’d give to the world to have you be the first thing he’d see in the morning.

Then you spoke and greeted him in that roughened sweet voice and Hoseok was gone.

Realization immediately had him freezing, tensing up as you let yourself fall across his blanket covered feet to groan about how sleepy you still are after putting down his medicine and breakfast on the bedside table. He hadn’t been able to reply, busy with tampering down the racing heartbeat echoing in his ears. 

Looking back a year later, him falling in love with you wasn’t as odd as he thinks it is, uncommon but still cliche. 

Jiwoo taking the space next to him made him jump, breaking off his line of thought.

“Seriously, just get it over with. The faster you see the result, the faster you can decide whether to move on or not.”

It was the most logical step to take but it felt…wrong somehow. 

He couldn’t imagine a day where he’d look at you and never feel the tickles of butterflies filling his stomach or the warmth your fingers would leave behind after carding through his hair or tilting his chin up to have a better look on his makeup. It felt like an offense to the fates.

Although loving you has its downsides, with your obliviousness to their feelings whether intentional or unintentional often makes him want to pull his hair out, he’d never regret feeling the joy of admiring someone when he’s with you. Hoseok has never felt more motivated to produce music with lyrics far too romantic to come from someone who has never had a lover since pre-debut. Not that you’d see that of course.

He couldn’t remember how many times he found himself wanting to grab you by the shoulders to shake you whenever you teased him about his creations, and hoped it would be enough to let you know that all those cheesy lyrics he had uncharacteristically puked out was all because of you.

“Don’t you go souring your face like that, you know that I’m right.”

“And just because you sound right, doesn’t mean I’m gonna listen to you.”

Jiwoo rolled her eyes and turned to her kitchen, probably to take a pan and hit him upside the head with it or to save herself from seeing the pathetic image of her brother being a fool for love. 

He knew not to hope, he repeated those words to himself but at the same time, he could sense the small, miniscule bead of it hidden within his heart, pushed down to the bottom of the barrel and awaiting its eventual death once he set his eyes on the negative results on his test.

In all of the times he got scared, Jung Hoseok has never been so terrified at the thought of being left out of your nexus. It would be the highest form of torture, a cruelest fate the heavens have dealt. 

How would he function seeing all his brothers do all the things he had imagined himself doing? Due to how sensitive the bond is, he wouldn’t be able to get a feel of your touch for a year, maybe two if the gods deemed it funnier.

What is he going to do then? Die from envy?

He wouldn’t be able to survive, it would ruin him completely. That parasitic feeling would eat him up from the inside and eventually spill out of him, it would damage the relationship he and his brothers had established through hardships and time. Something he too treasured as he does you.

A chime rang out and his eyes immediately fell to his phone on the coffee table. From the familiar set of emojis on the name of the messenger, he reached over to answer to his Yoongi hyung.

           [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: i know what you’re doing            [18:23] Me: i don’t know what i’m even doing right now hyung            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: you may fool the others but im not like them            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: jiwoo had already asked me last week about this problem ur supposed to be fixing so dont even try to lie to me            [18:23] Me: im just worried            [18:23] Me: you know about my family history right? We never had a single tethered so idk what even possessed me to take that test with jin hyung when we already know the answer            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: i think you’ll be surprised            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: not that i’m spoiling or anything, im just saying that if jesus could turn water into rum, then you can be the first tethered in your family            [18:23] Me: well im not a son of god am i?            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: don’t get sassy with me            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: im just saying, miracles can happen            [18:23] Me: i think i already lucked out with our jobs hyung            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: i doubt that            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: come home tomorrow            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: the maknaes are planning a party for you            [18:23] Me: LOLOLOL WHAT            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: they even bought two different cakes            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: wont spoil what they say             [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: come home if you want know            [18:23] Me: i will 

Despite telling his hyung that he’ll return, he wasn’t sure if he’s going through that decision just yet.

“Did you at least bring a change of clothes with you?” Jiwoo chimes, reappearing from the kitchen archway.

“What if I don’t have any?”

“Then you’re sleeping in those.”

Despite her words, she eventually pulls out a pair of pajamas from her boyfriend’s temporary side of the closet for him to borrow. Sleeping that night was far from being an easy task when he could read and see from the images the maknaes are spamming the group chat, photos ranging from decent captures of moments to a blurry mess where the one holding the phone is running away from a figure that distinctly look like Jimin.

He tried to ignore the nagging feeling at the back of his head and the way his stomach seems to shrunk and eat itself up with every picture and video he sees. He truly does try to ignore the voice judging him for daring to squeeze himself in an already perfect dynamic.

Eventually though, the voices quieten and he falls asleep.

______

Jimin is falling in love with his soulmate. 

It shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone but he's actually falling in love with his soulmate. Tingling butterflies in his stomach, skipping heartbeat, tickling warmth in the chest, the whole mile.

What started off as playful admiration where he’d tease you and lightly tug or pull your hair up while you were putting setting powder on his under eye, quickly developed into a giggly high school romance kind of love where he’d avoid your eyes just so his stomach would stop feeling weird and feel the heat of your touch linger from where you last held him.

Now that he’s thinking about it, the whole thing sounds silly because of course he’s going to fall in love with his soulmate.

The morning started as most mornings have begun for him since Jungkook’s birthday, with your face, bare and naked of any products, and the warmth of your body seeping through the fabric of his clothes. More often than not, he’d find himself coming to consciousness feeling your body weight pressing on his arms or your breath ghosting against his throat and he'd just freeze. 

 Every time it happens, electric shocks would run down his skin and he’d be taking a quick trip to the bathroom to calm his racing heart.

It was insane how often he had to lean over the ceramic sink so early in the morning, breathing heavily to try and ground himself before he reenters the room and sneaks back into his bed, but strictly keeping himself on his side of the pillow fort while careful to take your hand in his once again without waking you up. 

But today, he found himself wishing for time to stop just so he could stare at your face at this very moment.

With the light sheen of the light filtered through the curtains bouncing on one side of your skin giving you an ethereal appearance, he found himself at a loss for words at the beauty presented before him. His eyes traced the lines of the long lashes kissing the apple of your cheeks, the slope of your nose, and down to the plush of your lips. 

Jimin has lost count on how many times he has wondered about how it’d felt pressing against his.

In the peaceful silence of the early mornings, all he did was stare and wait for time to pass while wishing internally for the world to slow just so he could soak in the peace the morning brought.

Eventually though, he had to steer his attention elsewhere. Jimin rolls to the other end to reach for his phone on the bedside table.

He’s been scrolling on his phone for a couple of minutes, lurking in the fandom space—both international and local—when the door creaks open and Taehyung steps in with sleep-lidden eyes and body heavy with lethargy. Forgoing to close the door of their room, he trudged towards the bed like an overworked employee before promptly falling face first to the spot between you and him. He churned in the small space, making himself comfortable by throwing an arm around your blanket-covered form.

For a long while, the only sound in the room came from the occasional videos he plays.

It was weird. Having a soulmate who has multiple soulmates is weird.

He should be feeling disturbed seeing someone cuddle up to his soulmate but he wasn’t. Jimin, contrary to popular belief, is possessive, probably more than Jungkook was in his younger age. Although it wasn’t to the point of killing like people like to showcase in films these days, possessiveness for him is as tame as snaking arms around waists and narrowed eyes. 

Maybe there’s a bit of pulling them aside for a quick reminder in the middle of an event but the point is, he’s possessive. 

But he couldn’t find a single cell in his body who was bothered by the presence of someone else in the room. 

This soulmate thing is weird.

When he laughed at a post, Taehyung dragged himself up to shoulder level just to see what he was laughing at before giggling himself. Suddenly, you push yourself up and turn to them with squinted eyes.

“Good morning, noona.”

“Tae? What are you doing here?”

“Oh, Seokjin hyung sent me up here to wake you both up—”

“It’s still too early!” she groaned, stretching her arms above her head. “I’m not built for working this early!” 

“— he said if you don’t go down before seven, he’ll eat the can of smelly fish you bought for him in Sweden as a joke.”

You paused, the threat successfully shutting you up before you let out an exaggerated groan and dramatically burying yourself back into the pillow.

“Can’t a girl rest? I have a bad headache, and I don’t even know if the beating is Namjoon’s or mine.”

It’s easy to forget how there’s six different soulmarks affecting her all at the same time. From how she’d hear their leader’s heartbeat no matter how far, to the altered taste due to his Seokjin hyung’s mark, and to his Healing Touch. He couldn’t even fathom how much of a nightmare it is sensing everyone.

They eventually dragged themselves down to the dining room after a quick bathroom break. Jin had immediately greeted them with heaps upon heaps of pancakes with maple syrup drooling over the side and scrambled eggs on the table. 

Yoongi and Namjoon were already nursing their cups of coffee on the table—with Joon hyung taking his rightful spot on one end of the table as the leader, Seokjin hyung taking the seat on the opposite side, and Yoongi next to their leader—Seokjin was occupied with his food when they arrived, one scrolling on his phone while the other crazily scribbled on his journal.

“You didn’t even try to at least cook me waffles, hyung. I’m hurt!” He exclaimed and the man rolled his eyes.

“In another life, if you were my soulmate, maybe I would’ve considered it.” Jin then flashed a smile at you before skipping back to the kitchen.

Jimin couldn’t help but notice how you shifted uncomfortably on your seat at the noticeably more generous portion on your plate and he switched his plate with yours, immediately shoving one into his mouth before his hyung returned. An action noticed by everyone in the room.

“Jimin,” Yoongi called out, voice gentle as a whisper. “Give me one.” 

He followed, standing up to bring his plate closer to his hyung and passing it over, adding the eggs into the equation when Yoongi motioned him to add it. Seokjin returns when Jungkook has trudged out of his room and taking the empty space next to Taehyung.

Jungkook immediately noticed the generous amounts on his plate and immediately reached out for two pancakes with his fingers and plopping it down on his plate before taking three more from the middle dish and practically drowning his towers in maple syrup. As if it wasn’t enough, he reached for the softened butter.

When Jin returned, it was with another dishful of bacon and slices of apple. If he noticed the change of plates, he said nothing. 

For a long while, they all occupied themselves with their food. A companionable silence 

“What’s the agenda for today?” Jungkook was the first to break the silence.

“Yoongi hyung is coming with us to buy furniture for noona.” Jimin replied.

Taehyung then stops slicing his pancake and jutted out his lips towards Yoongi’s direction.

“Can I come with you?”

“I need your voice for the new song I’ve been working on.” Namjoon replied, looking up from his journal with a stern stare directed at the pouting boy. “You’ve been gone for so long, I have a couple for you to work on.”

“I can do that tomorrow, hyung. Let me go just for today? Hm?” 

“I can go right? Since you need Tae’s voice instead of mine.” Jungkook sleepily chimed in, eyes still half closed and a hand raised halfway.

“You’ll do the carrying?” Yoongi challenges.

“I’ll even do the talking.”

Jungkook held his gaze with a small, playful grin, waking his face up which Yoongi matched after a couple seconds passed.

“Alright, you’re going with us, kid.”

“I have a touch-based soulmark, I need to come too!” Taehyung argued..

“It's not as drastic as Jimin’s. Even then, you’ve recharged enough.” Seokjin responds, pointing his fork at him.

But before Tae could reply, a shrill notification sound pierced through the air and Y/N pulled her phone out of the pockets of her sleep shorts. Eomma <3

Shit.

Seeing how fast the entertained lilt in her expression drops into dread, the table falls into a hush. As if sensing the approaching tsunami of words from her mother, Yoongi takes his mug and walks out of the room with Seokjin following close behind. 

_____

“What did I hear about you getting a soulmate? You ungrateful child, I carried you for nine months and raised you with my blood, sweat, and tears yet this is how you treat me?!”

That was how your mother had begun the moment you had accepted her call. Her voice, despite being carried through such a small device, had blasted out, her uncontainable rage far too grand to be limited by the phone’s initial features. How a small woman could hold such an explosive anger and powerful voice is a wonder no one in the world has the answer for.

Hearing her voice through the speakers had Seokjin, Yoongi and Namjoon fleeing the scene, but not without karma immediately hitting their leader who had accidentally checked his shoulder on the wall on his way out.

Jungkook followed quickly, dunking his milk in one go and taking his plate with him as he jogged to follow his hyungs, Taehyung behind him.

Jimin had tried to leave but was stopped by both your entangled hands.

“So damn ungrateful you are! Didn't even tell me what was happening, a fucking lawyer knocked on my door and there I find out that my child is tethered. What was my daughter doing to forget to tell HER mother she had soulmates? Why did I have to hear it from someone I don't know?!”

“Did you really think you could leave me alone here?” I whisper-shout at him.

“Noona, let me go. I know we can go for five minutes now.”

“You’re really gonna risk our health for that?”

“At least don’t turn the camera at me, let me hide under the table.”

“Is that my new son-in-law Jimin?” Your mother had chimed, her tone taking a sudden turn. I turned the camera to him despite the insistent shake of head and wide eyes. “When you said you were also trying to find a husband for my daughter, I didn’t think you’d mean you and your brothers!”

“I know right?! Who knew I’d be one of the husbands I’ve been talking about, right auntie?”

“Already talking about marriage, huh? Y/N!” You turn the camera to you and find her smiling so wide you feel your cheeks ache for her. “Your soulmates got good heads on them, already thinking about marriage this early on!”

You shake your head. 

While marriage had once been an issue you lost sleep on, you knew it was impossible to attain as idols. They still got stadiums to perform in, songs to compose and perform for the ARMY. Bangtan would continue on for years as long as they sing and dance or as long as their passion remains alive and roaring. They had worked hard to get where they are now, with the taste of glory and power that comes with their rise in fame, retirement is a far away dream when they’re just getting started. 

Not to mention, your brain still struggles to accept your new reality despite the very apparent a red string connecting you and Yoongi over the table, and hearing Namjoon's heartbeat at the back of your mind. Hoseok hasn’t even checked his test result yet but your mother is already looking decades ahead.

“Ma please, you know that’s after they retire which is thirty years from now.”

“Jimin,” she calls out, lip jutted out in a pout and he leans over to get into the frame. “Are you guys going to make this old woman wait to see her daughter be a bride? I’m not gonna last long you know? My bones hurt every morning and my appetite is beginning to weaken.”

Jimin laughed nervously, eyes wide as he turned to you for help but you're not going to jump in when his face has calmed the raging beast. 

“Don't think for one second that I'm done with you, you ungrateful brat! You haven't even told me why you broke it off with Guwon when he was about to propose!”

“D-does it really matter now?” You winced when Jimin narrowed his eyes at you. Suddenly remembering what was drowned out by the sudden revelation of your soulmate links.

“It doesn't, global popstars sound much better than a lawyer anyway but would it hurt you to tell me what happened exactly? Don't you think your mother deserved an explanation at least after I toiled away trying to find you a husband?!”

“Don't you worry about it anymore, auntie,” Jimin says, voice like a gentle caress trying to tame her fierce anger. “Noona now has seven to care for her now, we'll get to that bridge when it comes but for now, how about we treat you girls to a nice spa out in Jeju?”

“Oh? I wouldn't want to impose on your bonding period, but I'd like to take that offer later. How so nice of you, Jiminie.”

“It’s not the best of gifts but I assure you that there’s plenty to come. Expect a couple of fruit baskets from Yoongi hyung and other stuff too from the others.

“You seven better take care of my daughter, it would be a shame if you all mucked it all up and I have to resent you all.” Your mother sighed, feigning sadness. “Anyways, expect a visit from Soo-in soon dear daughter. She will deliver my heartfelt joy in my stead, your father still needs my help around the house, damn pride of his, he shouldn’t have mindlessly tried to fix the roof himself.”

A shiver wracks down your spine at the thought of your mother’s gift after ghosting her and Soo-in for almost a week now. 

The last time your sister had visited, it was after Jungkook had ‘ran-into-the-sunset’ with you on his shoulder and him covered from head to toe in black. The vile wrench had switched your sugar and salt, hid the lids of your tupperwares, hid lego in your shoes before eventually ending her wickedness by hiding the wires of your charger and the wifi router’s adapter.

If your mother only threatened to hang you upside down, Soo-in made sure everything in life became irritatingly inconvenient.

“She won’t be pinching my ears?”

“She’s classier than that, I raised her first so expect more. I love you, dear daughter! Visit us soon with your seven soulmates!”

__________

[Today, 12:42]            [12:42] The BADDEST💅: so let me get one thing straight and two things gay            [12:42] The BADDEST💅: ur linked with bangtan?            [12:42] The BADDEST💅: THE ENTIRE ROSTER?????            [12:43] The Mother😌: congratulations Y/N, I’m so glad you finally found your soulmates😊            [12:43] The Mother😌: always knew you’d be tethered            [12:43] The PRETTIEST🌸: so who’s the biggest?👀            [12:43] The BADDEST💅: girl I don’t even think you got the libido for two            [12:43] The BADDEST💅: how tf are you gonna handle seven?!?!?!            [12:43] The BADDEST💅: she was in the hospital u fiend @The Prettiest            [12:43] The BADDEST💅: she needs to be worrying about a different type of d to receive            [12:44] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: SHUT IT MINHYUK            [12:44] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: hoseok isn’t confirmed yet so its just six for now            [12:44] The Prettiest🌸: bet you wish he’s your soulmate too            [12:44] The Prettiest🌸: cuz the way that man thrusts his hips in baepsae?            [12:44] The Prettiest🌸: 🥵            [12:44] The Mother😌: have some faith in her, she’ll manage            [12:44] The Mother😌: gift giving for your birthday just got a whole lot easier though😊            [12:44] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: wdym by that @The Mother😟            [12:45] The BADDEST💅: NO BUT SRSLY            [12:45] The BADDEST💅: HOW TF ARE YOU GONNA MANAGE SEVEN            [12:45] The BADDEST💅: ONE DICK PER DAY??? SEVEN DAYS A WEEK??/             [12:45] The BADDEST💅: lowkey wish that for me BUT            [12:45] The BADDEST💅: HOW??????             [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: MINHYUK PLEASE            [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: JIMIN IS LITERALLY NEXT TO ME            [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: NABI CONTROL YOURSELF            [12:46] The PRETTIEST🌸: don’t scold me when ik ur thinking about it too            [12:46] The Mother😌: when’s the soulbinding?            [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: Jihae please, its only been a few days            [12:46] The Mother😌: back in my days, people bound themselves and completed the bond on the first day…            [12:47] The PRETTIEST🌸: minhyuk i think you're forgetting the best part out of this            [12:47] The BADDEST💅: wut?            [12:47] The PRETTIEST🌸: imagine Alexa’s reaction when she finds out our dearest Y/N is Seokjin’s real soulmate            [12:47] The BADDEST💅: OH            [12:48] The BADDEST💅: she better HOPE she’s not in bighit anymore the moment the NDA expires            [12:48] The BADDEST💅: im going to be the most annoying fucker she’ll ever meet [Today, 13:02]            [13:02] The BADDEST💅: no but srsly how?            [13:02] The PRETTIEST🌸: R I P that pussy ayee

________

There’s nothing more infuriating than picking furniture with your soulmates, you decided.

Yoongi wanting everything to be practical and of the greatest quality matched with Jungkook’s penchant for only liking soft things, it was hell to be stuck in a furniture warehouse with the both of them. Jimin had never looked so godly when he insisted on letting you pick the brownish-red persian rug to be placed under the wide round canopy bed you had eventually settled with after a long debate with the rapper and the youngest.

What started as Jimin towing you around the shop to place you in front of every furniture before a mischievous grin spread across his lips, and the strength of the bed frames immediately turned sour when you both found your other two companions calmly arguing about the color of the curtains—they both eventually settled with thick white, and beige curtains, to Jungkook’s dismay.

He wanted black-out curtains for when he eventually ends up sleeping in your bed, he claimed.

The current dilemma, however, had you going silent as the prickles of irritation began to itch your skin.

Yoongi wanted to commission a carpenter he knew for a custom desk made for you and is insisting on you to skip shopping for tables and shelves, and take the cheapest one for now but Jungkook thinks it’ll take too long and wanted the boho vanity table set with a huge round mirror with stained glass around the edges. The rapper wanted the place you’d be doing work on, to be built with the practical features while keeping it organized but Jungkook, although he saw his hyung’s vision, refused.

“Imagine waking up with a canopy, great quality bed, amazing decor, then you have to stand up and work on a rackety blue plastic table because you have to wait months for that desk. How does that sound, hyung?”

Jimin not picking sides only added to the pounding headache you’re having.

While you understand both sides of the argument, either of those options didn't make you feel less guilty about having them skip work to spend all this money for your room, even if you knew how barely of a scratch their collective funds will take.

If Taehyung hadn't had the foresight to hide your wallet while you were in the shower with Jimin, the guilt would've been lighter.

You envy Jin who has been prickling your tastebuds with honey glazed fried chicken back in bighit, the lingering taste on your tongue making your stomach uncomfortably churn in hunger.

The disguises could only last for so long before people start noticing how familiar your soulmates’ eyes are, seeing as they’re plastered everywhere in the major cities. For the public to see your hands entangled in the pocket of Jimin’s coat would fuel the press for a year; hell, a century even with how the media moves these days.

As Jungkook’s voice picks up, you reach for the red string and Yoongi halts, looking down at the connecting line before gently grabbing it too.

‘Head hurts’

‘No more’

The rapper lets out an exhale and Jungkook stops.

‘Sorry’

‘Forgive?’

“Ok, so how about we take the set and I commission my guy then we’ll change it out once it's done?”

“Deal.”

Next to you, Jimin sighed in relief. “Thank god that’s settled, I thought I was going crazy listening to them debate on what’s better.”

“I don’t think either of them has ever fought for something they wanted that much.”

You turn to Jimin and a teasing smirk grows on his face.

“They love you like that, noona. Wanted nothing but the best of the best for you.” 

In a different context, you would've easily brushed off his comment but having the warmth of his touch thrum from your hand to your toes, the healing touch always at work, your cheeks flushed dark and you lightly slapped his arm.

Ever dramatic, he clutched his bicep and winced.

“Why are you hurting me like this?”

“Please, we have regeneration as our soulmark. You're barely hurt.”

“I'm gonna bruise and the fans are gonna see it then I'm telling them how much you like hurting me!”

________

When Hoseok arrived it was with a chorus of loud bangs!. The man had leapt at least a foot or two from the shock as confetti rained on him. 

Once he recovered though, he rained curses on the mischievous maknaes—and surprisingly, Yoongi and Namjoon too but they were spared due to one having his hyung privilege and Namjoon having retreated to the kitchen before his hyung had recovered from the shock.

Jin had clapped him in the back when he entered the dining room, fitting the huge and frilly birthday hat on his head and taking a picture of his dumbfounded reaction before the man could even realise what was happening.

Seeing them celebrate such a small thing, an odd feeling settles in your heart. You try not to be a killjoy but you couldn't ignore the mass settling on your gut.

Everything continued on as normal, everyone acted like they had before Jungkook's confession. They find out their links to you and suddenly, the past is behind them. As if you hadn't—although unintentionally—led them on and hadn't rejected three of them. A soul link appears and every fault was forgiven.

It wasn't only you who seemed to be feeling this way though.

Namjoon too it seems, seeing how he had kept his distance. Not in a bad way but rather a respectable, perfectly platonic way. You guessed it'll take long before the information would sink in for the non-believer, he was the one who had treated you more professionally than the others. You'd feel his concerned eyes ever so often but other than that, he'd treat you like a fragile glass.

Never to be touched and never to be perceived too long, fearing the weight of his gaze is enough to make you crumble.

(Or was it just you turning something that was normal before into fuel for your restless mind with the soulmarks now in the picture?)

You knew Namjoon is just having a hard time settling down with the fact that he's in a nexus connection with you but the ugly voice at the back of your head whispered a different tale. All of them are negative and judged far too harshly than you normally do yourself.

Jungkook bets his hyung will break after the third week, Tae says a month, and Jimin slyly says next week. You think it'll take Namjoon at least half a year before he properly processes him being tethered to someone, a non-believer.

The thumb that began to caress your knuckles snapped you out of your thoughts and you immediately found Jimin’s concerned eyes.

“You okay?”

You nod but he knew you better. Luckily, he lets it go.

“Open it, open it!” Jungkook chants, bringing everyone to gather around them.

Hoseok nervously laughed, placing down his car keys, phone, and wallet on the table before flipping the envelope’s flap. 

Unconsciously, you leaned forward as he carefully tears the paper, the sound seeming to echo loudly in the silence of everyone’s nervous anticipation. As his brothers had gone from standing at a respectful distance to noisily looking over the main dancer’s shoulder, Jimin had tugged you closer to join them, standing in front and peering over as Hoseok flips open the first fold.

Then out of nowhere, Yoongi had a burst of energy and screamed.

Everyone jumped at his sudden burst of energy making Hoseok’s hand shoot up to his heart and the three maknaes snapped their head to their hyung. The man in question laughed noiselessly, satisfied with the reaction he garnered.

“Hyung, why did you do that?! I just got out of the hospital and you want to send me back again!”

“You’re practically invincible, what are you talking about?” Yoongi shot back.

“Just open it, all I’m seeing is your information hyung and that’s boring!” Taehyung cuts in. “I already know what your blood type is, your last name—”

“You go open it then—”

His words died on his tongue when Taehyung snatched the paper up from the envelope and pulled it open. But before he could start reading the result, Hoseok took it back.

Waiting as he read through his results felt like watching the presidential race on the tv, heartbeat rising every time the opposing candidate gained more than the man you elected. You worried your bottom lip with your teeth. His eyebrows furrowed, his frown deepening as his eyes wandered lower and you began to panic.

Why are you even nervous? 

Aren't you being too greedy for wanting to have Hobi too?

Hoseok then crumbled into the floor, curling up to himself as he clutched the paper to his chest. Instantly, everyone panics as his heart shattering sobs echoed in the living room.

Suddenly, the colorful decorations hanging on the wall and the balloons scattered on the floor made

“Hoba? What’s wrong?”

“Hyung come on, don’t make me nervous like this!”

“What did it say?”

Jimin falls next to him, your hand momentarily forgotten to comfort his hyung and Jungkook follows, hugging the sobbing man while Seokjin reaches for the crumpled paper peeking out of Hoseok’s curled up form, a grim expression on his face.

“I am writing to inform you of the results of your recent soulmark evaluation and tethered status assessment. After a thorough examination and review of your diagnostic tests, it has been confirmed that you are,” Seokjin takes a deep breath then releases it shakily, a wide smile spreading across his lips. “Indeed tethered.”

You let go of the breath you had unconsciously held in as everyone in the room began to celebrate. Jimin pulled Hoseok to stand, laughing as the man continued to weep before reaching up to fix the birthday cap Seokjin had slipped onto his head. Jungkook, unable to stop himself from ridiculing his hyungs whenever he could, pulled out his phone to record them.

“How do you feel knowing you’re the first ever tethered in your family?”

Taehyung follows by placing his phone under Hoseok’s chin like a mic.

“You must be so happy being the first Jung to have a soulmate since the dawn of time, sir. Please tell us what you’re feeling right now.”

“Get that fucking… camera off my face or I’ll break it.”

Hearing this, Namjoon turns to the maknaes. “Stop teasing him, Seokjin hyung isn’t even done reading it.”

Despite this, Jungkook didn’t stop recording but Taehyung had skipped over to look over Seokjin’s shoulder.

“I think you’ll want to read this one yourself, Hoba.” The oldest says, handing the paper over to the sniffling man.

With his result back in his hand, Hoseok straightened himself, clearing his throat as Jimin gently wipes his tears off of his cheeks.

“This means you have a soulmate, a unique and profound connection that is both rare and significant. Furthermore, based on the characteristics of your soulmark and the energy patterns observed, there is a high probability that your soulmark is of the altering type.”

“They have the technology to figure out the soulmark type too?” Yoongi asks, surprised.

“Unfortunately, the global fated registry haven’t figured out a way to pinpoint what soulmark our patients have. It is with our deepest—”

“Didn’t know that, had mine cancelled when I figured it out before the results came.” Seokjin replied. Beside him, Taehyung pulls up his phone to rapidly type out whatever he had in his mind.

“I wonder what kind of altering mark it is. There’s a lot of documented ones but what if it’s also a new soulmark? A revived one from the 19th century like Jimin’s?”

“That’s unlikely.” Yoongi refutes.

“You don’t know that.”

With the initial elation ebbing away, everyone continued the celebration seated around the dining table where Jimin had parted from you to take out the congratulating cake from the fridge to light up and serve in front of their hyung who had almost toppled over with how hard he laughed seeing it.

Yoongi had insisted they also take out the apologizing cake so it wouldn’t go to waste. Upon hearing this, the group broke out in laughters, unbelieving until Jungkook brings out the ube flavored cake with the sentence “sorry your family nerfed your potential to be a lover boy.” placed on top in red icing.

The excitement never faded away through the night, dinner was lively, as if they had swept the four daesangs on both award shows. But instead of being influenced by the joy you feel down the red line from Yoongi and the practically vibrating maknaes sitting across you who keep cutting through conversations with suggestions on what soulmark their hyung might have, you find yourself standing behind a tall wall.

When everyone cheered and raised their mugs to toast, you only felt yourself mentally retreat further as a mass settled deep in the pit of your gut.

Seeing the men around you with wrists decorated in thick bands of gold that cost more than your yearly wage, faces flawless from careful maintenance, and names carrying the weight of their country’s pride, did you really deserve them? 

You, who was a nobody staff they just happen to gravitate to due to the closeness of age, matched with the members of the world’s biggest boyband. They weren’t just out of your league. You’re the human on earth wishing to reach the stars from another, far away galaxy, yet by fate’s generosity, you were given the chance to see the beauty of them from up close.

How does one come from dating sleazy men with oily hair and faces akin to an infant’s drawing to being tethered to superstars everyone in the world would sacrifice a life for a chance to talk to them?

When everyone had begun to retire for the night, Jimin had silently guided you back to his room. The sensation of him pressing a kiss on your forehead cuts off your thoughts, his arms wrapping around you in a tight hug grounding you further.

“Are you with me now, noona?”

“Of course, I always am.” You answered with a scoff, pulling away and he frowned.

“I could sense your feelings the entire dinner, don’t try to lie to me.”

Even in the shades of his room bare of any bright lighting, you feel Jimin stare past your physical body and peer into your soul. In the harsh darkness with only you and him standing in it, you felt exposed, stripped to the barest bone under his gaze.

Never have you ever hated having a soulmate than you do now with someone perceiving your feelings openly, sensing the slightest shift in your mood with a brush of skin. It's annoying, scary yet at the same time relieving that there’s someone who could hear the tune of the noise in your brain. 

Not many people have the same luck you have, seven soulmates with one of them granting you what technically is immortality, who else wins at life like that?

But do you really deserve it? Deserve them?

“Stop that. You deserve this, deserve all of us. If someone thinks otherwise, tell me their name and I’ll go beat them up.”

You laugh. “You can’t do that, that’ll stain your image.”

“I don’t think you understand just how important you are to me, noona.” He says, pulling you closer to him. “Before you think about it, I’ll beat someone up for you with or without the soulmarks.”

The image of someone with the face of an angel and a sweet demeanor like Jimin jumping someone in the parking lot to fight for your honor shouldn’t have made you cackle the way you did. The warm rumbles from your linked hands spread across your body and the thoughts were immediately silenced.

“I know you wouldn’t like it but I’ll be telling the other guys about this. I don’t like how you think you’re undeserving of all this when you do, in fact, deserve this bond after sticking with us through thick and thin. You saw all of our flaws and helped us in our bad days, you may think you haven’t done much to warrant this kind of luck but you do.” 

Jimin pressed his lips on your forehead and your heart skipped a beat.

“Namjoon hyung might have a problem expressing it, Yoongi hyung might not show it openly like Jungkook and Taehyung does, but they share the same sentiment. It’ll take them time to be more expressive so I hope you find it in yourself to be patient. We’re still in the adjusting phase so if anything bothers you, don’t hesitate to tell us.”

Tears were streaming down your face at this point, eyes burning as they poured out like a waterfall. The softness in his voice has eased its way into your heart and dispelled the gloominess surrounding it, replacing it with a crashing wave of relief followed by the warmth provided by the soulmark.

You didn’t realise how much your thoughts had been wearing you down until tonight. Comforted by his words and the tightness of his hug, the dam finally breaks and you falter in his hold.

“Shh, cry it all out, noona.”

“I-I shouldn’t be crying over something so stupid like this.”

He shakes his head. “It's not stupid. Don’t say that.”

There’s a tug on your pinkie and you feel the string grow heavier. Immediately, Yoongi’s concern bleeds into you.

‘Why crying?’

‘What happened?’

“Let’s go lay down, noona. I’m feeling the ache in my muscles bending down like this.” He says lightheartedly, giggling. “Don’t worry about answering the others, I’ll handle it later.”

Guiding you to the bed, Jimin tugs you to fall into his arms and you let yourself be pulled into his chest.

Between the sound of Jimin and Namjoon’s heartbeats, and his fingers tracing slow circles on your back while the other hand massaged your scalp, it was easy to be lulled into sleep. In the echoing sound of your sniffles and hiccups, his sweet humming permeates through the air. His song was familiar yet your sleep addled mind took a second to realise what it was.

Serendipity, your mind eventually supplied.

For a moment, in the solace his arms offered, the world became quiet and you fell asleep, forgetting to worry about what chaos yesterday will bring.

_________

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[nerdy-novelist017]

Benny x bunny, where she faints and she gets taken to the hospital but he wasn't around when she fainted, so once he gets to the hospital and asks what happened she completely downplays it. Also if you could write him getting the call it would be 10/10.

You guys are so self-indulgent and I love it! This was really fun to write so I hope you enjoy! Benny's really just a stressed little muffin in this

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 2.2k

Summary- See request above.

Bruised Ego (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

The cue ball struck against the green stripes, a significant clack echoing in the clubhouse as he sunk the last ball into the pocket. With a smirk around his cigarette, Benny straightened to his full height, hands sliding down the cue stick smugly. 

“That’s two games in a row, kid,” Wahoo groaned as he rounded the pool table to throw another five dollar bill into Benny’s winnings. “You must be lucky.”

“We can see if my luck will make it to an even 3,” Benny chided. He knew it wasn’t luck, Wahoo just sucked at playing pool. The slow afternoon was passed by the few integral members of the Vandals hanging out in the clubhouse, drinking, smoking and razzing each other. There was going to be a race tonight at the club bonfire; some newcomer kid on a piece of shit hand-built bike thought he was going to take on Cal’s racing Harley. Everyone knew he was going to blow him away, but it was still free entertainment and a chance for the club to meet again.

“Yeah fine, but I want the stripes this time.” Wahoo grumbled.

“You know what the definition of insanity is, Wahoo?” Johnny asked over his shoulder. He sat at the bar, counting a few stacks of cash as he and Brucie worked on the finances of this month's dues. 

“Well, your boy keeps doin’ all these trick shots,” Wahoo retorted as he began to rack for the new game. 

“Of course he is,” Johnny looked over his shoulder, smirking. “I taught ‘em how.”

Johnny turned back to his task at hand before he could see the bird Wahoo flipped him. The phone rang from the back of the bar and Cal went to answer it. 

“I’m feeling pretty lucky for this game too,”  Benny laughed as he bent forward to position the first shot. Clack, another shot that sent multiple solid colors spiraling around the table. 

“Benny,” Cal called, holding the phone up. “It’s for you.”

“Okay,” Benny nodded, chalking the end of his cue stick. It was probably you calling to tell him you missed him. You often called him at least once if he was gone for a few hours, your way of checking on him as you worried about him. He’s tried telling you multiple times that you don’t have to worry about him, he’d be more careful because he had you to come home to every night. You promised you'd stop calling so much but he told you he didn't mind hearing your voice so sometimes, you’d call and ask him to pick up something from the store, too. “Tell her I'll be over in a minute.”

“No,” Cal said slowly, voice tight. “It’s Kathy. She said somethin’s happened to Bunny.”

Benny’s heart stopped. “What?”

“She’s at the hospital–”

Johnny turned to Cal and said something – asked a question maybe – but that was all Benny needed to hear before he tossed the cue stick onto the table and turned for the door. He shoved it open and fished his bike keys out of his pocket as he tossed the rest of his cigarette onto the sidewalk. He set off for his bike, throwing his leg over the seat and flipping the ignition switch.

 He brought his foot down onto the kickstart but it only sputtered. He tried it once more. Twice. And Benny felt tears of frustration burning in his eyes as he pictured you laying lifeless in one of those awful hospital beds, every worst case scenario running through his mind.  He kicked it again. “Fucking, c’mon!”

“Benny,” Johnny’s calm but assertive voice cut through the ringing in Benny’s ears. “I’ll drive. Get in.”

He nodded, wanting to say thanks, but he found his mouth too dry to speak, jaw clenched too tightly. He followed Johnny to his car, quickly sliding into the passenger seat. Johnny twisted the key in the ignition, threw it into reverse and peeled out as he drove in the direction of the hospital.

“Kathy said she’s okay,” Johnny assured, his voice composed as Benny’s knee bounced up and down with anxiety. “Said she was up and talkin’ to the doctors.”

“I can’t – I can’t lose–” Benny started but his voice broke and he squeezed his eyes shut at the thought of something happening to you. 

“She’s okay, Benny,” Johnny repeated, firmer this time. “She’s okay.”

******

Benny practically ran through the hospital waiting room to get to the front desk, skidding to a stop and asking the nearest nurse where you were. Johnny had dropped him off at the door, saying he would find a place to park and be in as soon as he could. 

“Benny!” Kathy called out for him down the hall. He abandoned the nurse’s station and approached her. 

“What happened? Where is she?” he asked, swallowing hard in an attempt to control his nerves. 

“I’ll take you to her,” Kathy touched his arm gently and led him down the hallway of ER rooms. “We were outside workin’ in my garden, ya know? A–and she just fell over, like completely onto her face, didn’t even try to catch herself. She hit her head pretty good when she landed so they’re runnin’ some test.”

Benny nodded, trying to process her words in his jumbled brain. She stopped in front of a room and motioned for him to enter. He took a deep breath, hoping his shaking hands weren’t noticeable and pushed the door open. 

And the sight of you nearly crushed his heart. You looked so small sitting on the hospital bed, legs dangling off the side, hand pressing a blue ice pack to the side of your face. When you looked up and noticed him, you sat up straighter and squeaked out, “Benny!”

He was at your side in an instant, hands carefully roaming in an attempt to find anything physically wrong with you besides the obvious head wound. “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” you said, taking his hand in your unoccupied one and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s nothing, Benny.”

“It wasn’t nothin’,” Kathy spoke up from the doorway, nervously glancing between you two. “You were out for a good couple minutes. Scared the livin’ shit outta me. ” 

You shook your head, shooting her an exasperated look around Benny’s shoulder. “I told you not to call him.”

“Bullshit,” Benny interjected. “You get taken to the hospital and you think I shouldn’t know ‘bout it?”

“I’m fine, really,” you said with a sigh and you looked so . . . tired. Benny wanted to scoop you up in his arms and take you home in that instant. “The doctor said I just got overheated. You know how hot it’s been.”

Benny’s hand gently encased yours holding the ice pack, pulling it away so he could inspect the damage. He grimaced at the sight of the nasty purple and red bruise forming around your right brow bone and down to your eye socket. Despite his best efforts, his hands still shook as he pulled away. He’d seen his fair share of bruising – most of the time it was from his own reflection in the mirror after a fight. But the sight of the injury coloring your beautiful skin. . . it made his stomach flip. You were so frail, so breakable and the realization squeezed at Benny’s heart. He was supposed to protect you and if he could, he’d shrink you down and put you in his pocket, safe and secure. He looked over his shoulder to Kathy, “Would you. . . would you let Johnny know what’s goin’ on?”

“Sure thing,” she answered and disappeared out the door.

Silence fell heavy between you and Benny desperately searched for something to say to make you smile again, to make you blush . . . but his heart still pounded too hard and his stomach still churned from the uncertainty to come up with anything. So he did the only thing he could in that moment; He pulled you into a tight hug, hand cradling the back of your neck as he fought back that awful sting of tears again. 

“I’m okay, Benny.” Your voice was muffled against his chest. “I promise.” 

“You can’t–” his voice broke and he had to swallow thickly before continuing. “You can’t scare me like that, Bunny.” 

“I didn’t mean to–” 

“I just– I just love you so much,” he breathed out as he pulled you impossibly closer.

“I know you do,” you whispered gently and he couldn’t understand how you were always so strong, so resilient. “I love you too, Benny.”

You gave him a moment to compose himself, to slow his erratic heartbeat and melt into your sweet touch before you pulled back, lowering the ice pack and said, “There is something that will make me feel better.”

“What’s that?” he asked, heart softening at your brazen smile.

“A kiss.”

“Is that so?” His gaze fluttered over your angelic face, still beautiful despite the bruise. 

“Mhhm, it’s what the doctor ordered, actually.” Your grin grew wider as he put both hands on the sides of your face, thumbs sliding gently along your jaw. He kissed you softly, lips barely ghosting over yours in fear of hurting you as if you would crumble beneath his touch. That wasn’t good enough for you apparently as you leaned forward to chase him before he could pull away completely. Your hands came up to hold his in place over your face and you returned his kiss with such vehemence that Benny’s brows pinched together in enthrallment. 

The distinct clearing of a throat broke you both apart and Benny caught sight of the doctor standing in the doorway, hand rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. You blushed and looked away as the doctor entered, apologizing for the intrusion. 

“We got the test results back,” he said and Benny straightened, feeling his heart rate pick up again. “Bad news is we figure you passed out due to heatstroke. With this severe heat wave hitting Chicago, we’ve had multiple patients come in from it so don’t feel bad. Good news is you were able to get here quick enough that we could get your core temperature brought down before any damage was done. As far as your head, you don’t appear to have a concussion, but you will have a pretty nasty bruise for a while.”

“So . . . she’s okay?” Benny asked, hand finding the top of your thigh to ground him. 

The doctor nodded. “Yeah she’ll be just fine as long as she takes it easy for the rest of the day. No more gardening in this weather, okay?” 

You giggled abashedly at his joke and Benny breathed a sigh of relief. 

The doctor continued, “I’ll have the nurse bring around another ice pack for you to take home before we start your paperwork to leave.”

Benny held your hand as he stood beside your bed faithfully while they worked on getting you discharged of the hospital. You were okay, he repeated in his head like a chant. You were okay and that made him okay.

“You know since I'm gettin' out of here early we’ll still be able to go to the race tonight,” you pointed out with a small smile as you nudged him with your foot to get his attention.

“No, I’m taking you home where you’re going to lay your pretty little butt down in bed for the rest of the day,” he said firmly with a shake of his head.

“I don’t want you to miss Cal’s race!” you said as you tugged on his hand gently, lip pouting. 

“I don’t care about the race,” he replied flippantly.

“Well, I do! Plus I want to see the girls, too. C’mon, please Benny?”

He shook his head, trying to remain firm in his decision even as you gave him your irresistible puppy eyes. 

“Please Bennyyyy?” you dragged out his name in that adorable way you did when you wanted something. “I’ll sit in the shade and I’ll let you know if I’m not feeling good, I promise.”

He contemplated it. The race wasn't until later in the evening and the temperature should be cooler, but still. . . “You’ll go home and lay in bed until then?” 

You nodded, holding your pinky out to him in a silent promise.

Unable to deny you of anything, he reluctantly looped his pinky with yours. “Fine, but we’re only stayin’ for the race. No bonfire afterwards.”

You beamed at him and he knew you were proud of yourself for once again swaying him with your charms. 

******

Hours later, as the picnic was just getting into full swing, Johnny couldn’t hide the smile on his face as Benny pulled up with you on the back of his bike. Though surprised, he was sure you had roped the kid into coming, you seemed to be able to get away with just about anything when it came to Benny. He shook his head, as he watched Benny help you off and the two of you approached his picnic table filled with the core members of the Vandals, noting how he seemed to hold you a little tighter as if you were bound to trip and fall. 

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be takin’ it easy?” he badgered as he stood to give you a hug. 

“And miss out on a race?” you grinned as you gave him a quick hug before looping your arm back through Benny's. “Never.”

“Well, it’s good to see you’re feelin’ better, kid,” he said honestly. 

Funny Sonny caught sight of the reunion and hollered as he approached. “Hey Bunny, I’d hate to see the other guy!” 

You blushed as you remembered the bruise forming on your face and before you could say anything, Benny spoke up from beside you. “Yeah, she got ‘em good with her mean right hook.”

You grinned at him as Sonny laughed. “Hell yeah! Bunny’s a fighter now, boys!”

They cheered and you rolled your eyes playful as you leaned up on your tippy-toes to plant a kiss on Benny’s cheek. 

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