#all out attack screens are SO hard to get right but i think i nailed this one

[chrisrin]

fan-made all out attack screen based on akechi's new thief design from the fic marigolds by colbub!

[eggtartz]

✧ 3rd October ✧

Eraserhead // Lazy (f! teacher reader)

kinktober masterlist

warnings : stressed aizawa, deepthroat, blowjobs, cum eating

these days at UA were especially stressful for the ground hero, eraserhead. not only his class getting into a direct attack with the villains, now they also needed to be held in dorms to ensure their safety after a second attack from the league of villains during their camp with pro heros, wild, wild pussycats.

then theres the whole deal of internships after the school festival and now the tired hero slash teacher classroom is going through dozens of applications of offers for his students, each must be reviewed carefully for the sake of the students quirks growth.

aizawa sighed as he slumped on the chair, putting away his scarf. his two students in particular has been fighting, after curfew and at a restricted area while using quirks. the both had amazing powers but horrendous dynamic that he frustratedly choked both of them in his binding scarf earlier. you were napping as the light from the computer screen turned on again. "hm? Is eraserhead still working on his shift?" you asked groggily, slowly sitting up to gaze at him, his long hair tied in a bun. "sorry, had to take care of the brats again. go back to sleep, i'll be there" he said without looking at you. you pouted as you silently hugged him from behind all the while rubbing his shoulders. "you haven't had a decent sleep after USJ, you realize right?" you gently said as he lightly sighed "it wasn't your fault" you said again, much softer this time as he hugged you back, tugging your forearm "im tired, so tired" he said under his breath that if you weren't behind him, you wouldn't have caught it. "i know, shouta, let me help you take some rest" you kissed the side of his head.

"really? thanks, you really know how to help me all the time" he smiled gingerly and kissed your temple. you pushed his chair slightly back as you went on your knees, unzipping his pants while he's slowly going through applications again. his boxers were strained as you fished out his half hard cock, kissing the tip that made him hiss. "haven't done this in what? three weeks?" he glanced down to you "mmh, more than a month I think" you said, giving slow and soft licks to the cockhead, warming it up as aizawa grunted in relief. your two hands are on his shaft as you lubricated it with your drool, licking and kissing it. aizawa's hand gripped the mouse he's using as his muscles got tense, until he felt a hand on his stomach "relax, shouta. let me do deal with everything" you said, swirling his cock in your mouth before slowly going down with it.

aizawa took a hair band on the desk and tied your hair in a ponytail, holding the ponytail upwards as you bobbed your head slowly, doing it repeatedly while licking his hard cock "you're.. really good. like always" aizawa frowned as he felt you humming, his cock nearing your throat. he can practically feel his sensitive dick at the edge of your tight throat but he held himself back, although it was growing difficult with how stubborn you are.

rubbing his slick cock, your lips went to find his balls and licked them. you fondled them gently as aizawa muttered curses under his breath. his balls was getting wet over how much saliva dn precum smeared on it as you gazed up to him "shouta? do you like it?" you purred, teasing his cockhead with your nails. "y-yeah.. it's really good. you give.. amazing blowjobs.." he panted as you took him inside your mouth again, this time hollowing your cheeks as you relaxed your throat and gagging on him. your nails buried on his thighs as you gurgled on his cock, enjoying the delicious girth stretching your throat and milking him dry.

aizawa in the meanwhile is moaning in pleasure, frantic hands trying not to shove you deeper to blow his aching cock. his hands rested on your jaw as he looked up to the ceiling, his Adam's apple bobbing with every saliva he's swallowing as he tried not to be too noisy. sweat started to drip on his forehead as you gagged on his cock, sounds of your whining and constant gurgles making aizawa at the edge. "h-hell.. I think I'm close.. mm, where do I cum darling?" he asked although you were adamant on keeping his cock in your throat.

you took out his dick and tapped the precum on your tongue, looking up to him "shoot it inside my throat.. please.. want your cum" you softly moaned, your hands going up and down his foreskin as he gripped your jaw again "you want help me, right?" he asked, getting a nod

aizawa smirked as he pushed his cock in your mouth again, two hands on the back of your head as he bullied himself inside you. you gurgled and gagged, eyes closed and hands are on your thighs as he used your throat like a fleshlight. he stood up from his chair and dragged you further from the desk, smearing precum on your face and bent down to kiss "look at that, such a pretty face" he cooed as he plunged himself right back in, forcing you to breath with your nose as you relaxed your throat. his cock was getting bigger (if possible) as he deepthroated you, his thrusts getting frantic as he chased his orgasm

"here it comes.. my fucking load!" he grunted, pushing his cum deep inside, choking your throat slightly as he felt his cum getting swallowed. when he pulled out, you opened your mouth as aizawa see it's already clean, smiling satisfyingly.

"that's a good girl. wanna go for another one?"

[amrcnnightmre]

Hi I see you take requests. Would you write a CM Punk x wrestler!fm!reader? Maybe one where him and Drew McIntyre are in the height of their feud, and Drew gets the reader hurt during a match. Angst, love, you know lol

I’ve got you - C.M Punk

All fics posted are my original work, feel free to reblog but DO NOT repost thank you!! I haven’t thoroughly edited this so apologies if there’s any errors! All rights are reserved for my writing and any ocs that may be included, please don’t steal and as always.. happy reading!

My Masterlist

CM Punk x wrestler!fm!reader!

( tw: angst, fluff, injury, slight worry & panic )

Word count: 1,9K !

requested.

A feud between Punk and McIntyre had gotten to an all time high, both at each others throats constantly and the person in the middle of it all — y/n. Drew found just about all the ways he could to get under CM Punks skin but dragging y/n into the mix brought a whole other level of anger out of Punk, she was his long time partner after all.

Punk and y/n have been together almost 11 years now, their relationship Is as strong as ever. There is nobody who has supported him more then she has, you see him and you know y/n is never far behind — she always had his back.

The action of Monday night was in full effect— bright lights, loud pumped up crowd members and eager superstars ready to take to the ring for each of their scheduled matches. Y/n stood backstage with a furrowed expression as her gaze remained fixated on one of the many screens showcasing the action currently taking place beyond the curtain. Drew was getting the upper hand on his opponent Jey Uso while Punk sat ringside at the commentary desk, saying just about anything to distract the Scots man — a smug expression laced effortlessly on his face as he spoke to the two men next to him.

Y/n had been warming up for her own match that would take place later that night when her attention was caught by the screen closest to her, she wasn’t suppose to get involved in this match but watching drew get in Punks face and yell all sorts of insults the way he did just set her off. It took her no time at all to reach the gorilla, quickly asking one of the backstage tech crew to hit her music before she slipped out of the curtain towards the ring.

A sly smile graced y/n’s lips as she innocently skipped her way down the isle, her hands interlocked behind her back. Punk’s expression twitching slightly in confusion but he quickly hid it with a smile. “ladies and gentleman that is Cm Punks longtime partner y/n heading towards the ring, what is she doing out here during this match” Michael Cole exclaimed as he looked toward punk who responded almost immediately — “your guess is as good as mine Cole, you can’t tame a woman like her” he chuckled lightly to hide any concern in his tone.

It wasn’t that he didn’t think y/n could handle herself but Drew was on a ruthless streak of aggression lately that Punk just didn’t trust. Y/n’s smile didn’t fade once as she locked eyes with Drew, Anger flashing across his face as he almost became distracted for a moment. She waved at him mischievously from ringside, the match continued until Drew began to get the upper hand, y/n was not going to let that happen on her watch — not after everything he had put her family through. Y/n climbed up on the ring apron with ease, immediately getting the referees attention in order to cause a distraction and as if on cue Punk slipped away from his spot on commentary and into the ring, a steel chair in hand.

Jey Uso was sprawled out on the mat from prior attack curtesy of Drew, Punk smirking at the Scots man across from him as he rose the chair above his head preparing to slam it down on Drews back that was turned away from him. The next few moments were a blur, happening quicker than anyone could even process, Drew turned and grabbed the chair in the process — nailing Punk in the face with a hard blow from his right hand, it caused such an impact that the man tumbled to the mat and it would now be the Scottish warrior holding the chair above his head.

Drew reeled the chair back as if preparing to strike Cm Punk with the cold steel, turning to his left instead and shocking everyone in attendance — he hit Y/n. The chair nailed Y/n right in the head before she had time to process it, the impact so loud you could’ve sworn it cracked her skull. The refs eyes were wide as Y/n tumbled off the apron and hit the floor with a rough thud. “should’ve kept your girlfriend at home where she belongs!” Drew growled at Punk with a sly grin, The rage that surged through Cm punks veins was unlike any other the moment he realised what had just transpired and within seconds he snapped.

An all out brawl ensued between the two men until Adam Pierce the Raw general manager came storming out to the ring, he signalled for back up and before long the ring was filled with superstars and backstage talent prying the two away from one another. The chaos all happening as medics checked on Y/n who was out cold, they worked quickly to get her on a stretcher and brought to the trainers room.

A few minutes later things began to calm down and that was when Punk realised Y/n was nowhere in sight, a panic washing over him immediately — where was she? Was she okay? Why didn’t he check on her first ? The second these thoughts flooded his mind he was out of the ring and sprinting to the back, pushing his way through the curtain yelling at everyone around him as he asked for y/n’s whereabouts. “Where is she?! Where is Y/N?!” He barked at Paul Levesque aka Triple H, “Phil she’s in the trainers office, they’re checking her out to see if she needs to be transported to the local medical facility” he replied in a soft tone, that was all Punk needed to hear before giving the man a nod and heading straight to the office.

The expression on Punks face immediately softening as he opened the door and saw Y/n sitting up slowly with a groan, their eyes immediately meeting as he walked to her side. “Fuck.. I’m so sorry.. I should’ve looked after you and went straight over-” his ramble was cut off by Y/n placing a gentle kiss to his lips as she held his face in her hands. “Hey, hey I’m okay I promise.. just a little sore” she smiled sweetly at him, Punks eyes rapidly scanned over her body checking for any obvious injuries — the bruising already forming only made him seethe with anger. “I’m gonna kill him I swear” he grumbled under his breathe as his eyes met hers again, “mm later” she smiled wrapping her arms around his neck loosely.

“Im going to go get ready for my match” y/n whispered knowing he would be disapproving given her current state, “to hell you are darlin” he shook his head, “hmm too late?” She giggled before getting up off the table and running out the door down the hall. “Hey don’t you dare!” He laughed chasing her, y/n’s loud giggles echoing through the halls as he chased her.

After a few moments she arrived at her locker room and quickly ran in while closing the door behind her, “y/n” Punk laughed, “y/n i know you’re in there, let me in” he spoke softly. “mm only if you don’t get mad that i’m still planning to do my match later tonight” she smiled as if he could see it through the door, “y/n y/m/n y/l/n.. you’ll be the death of me” he sighed with a gentle laugh after speaking her full name. “Okay fine, but you have to get medically cleared by the trainer first.. deal?” he spoke while standing back waiting for the door to open.

After a few seconds the door opened and revealed Y/n with a little grin on her face, “how can I say no to that?” she whispered before pulling him into the room by his shirt and locking the door behind her. “exactly” he replied before picking her up effortlessly and carrying her to the small couch that took up a space in the room. If there was one thing people probably didn’t know about Phil, it’s that behind closed doors he was a big softy, especially to y/n.

“I hope you know I really am sorry, I had no idea that was going to happen” he mumbled as one hand rested on her hip and the other slowly moved to her lower back. “hey it’s okay, it’s part of the job” she smiled softly, her hands roaming his body ever so gently. “I know but you shouldn’t of gotten hit like that, it could of caused serious damage and I just.. I don’t know what i would’ve done-” his voice almost shaking as he thought about what could of happened if things had gone worse. Y/n carefully moved her hands to his face, carefully resting on both his cheeks, “phil.. love.. i’m okay, i’m right here and that’s all that matters” she hummed looking at him solemnly - her heart speeding up just looking at him.

“alright.. I trust you, but i will get drew back for what he did, that’s a promise”. A smile grew on y/ns face hearing his words, she could not get over how much Phil loved her, that he’d do just about anything for her even though he knew damn well she could stand up for herself. “I appreciate that babe, you’re the best” she laughed lightly, “i have no doubt in my mind you’ll get him back and I simply cannot wait to see it”.

The tension in the room slowly rising as y/n moved her hands to Punks Hair, running her fingers through it softly before tightening her grip on it slightly to tug on it. This action earning a slight groan from the heavily tattooed superstar, “However, your pay back can wait.. I think I know what will make us both feel better, hm?” she whispered as she placed gentle kisses to his neck and up towards his jaw.

Soft groans continued to leave Punks lips as his eyes remained locked on hers, “oh yeah you want to show me exactly what that is?” he smirked running his hands up her body stopping right under her breasts. “I think that could be arranged” she shifted so she was properly straddling him, “You only get a preview though, and then the full thing comes after i win my match tonight” she grinned running her thumb across his jaw, both their eyes locked on one another full of lust.

“mm I can agree to that, IF you get cleared.. but either way i’m taking good care of you love” he hummed running his hands under her shirt while keeping his gaze fixed on her, “oh yeah? that’s if I don’t care for you first” she challenged with with a bright smile. A few seconds passed and Punk picked the smaller woman up and smoothly flipped her over so he was now hovering over her gently, a loud squeal followed by sweet laughter erupting from her lips at the sudden action. I think we can all guess that probably wasnt the only noise coming from the room that night.

“I’ve got you” he whispered lovingly, “in and outside of the ring.. i’ve got you, nobody gets away with hurting you like that” their foreheads pressed gently against one another.

[deep-fried-egg]

Warnings: G!P, werewolf Vada, Rut/heat cycles, Vada in her wolf form AGAIN, yes vada can talk in her wolf form.

SMUT BELOW THE CUT

Vada woke up to a warm bed and heavy blankets, the scent of coffee in the air. She smiled as she saw her mate y/n already up on her laptop with a cup of fresh coffee on the nightstand next to her. The other woman turned around when Vada got out of bed, smiling softly at her mate.

"Morning." Vada gave y/n a quick kiss on the cheek before pausing, feeling the familiar feeling of her rut starting.

"Shit did I not take my suppressants last night?" She muttered, trying desperately to control herself. I mean sure, y/n is a werewolf now but she hasn't been with Vada through her rut!

(Vada didn't get y/n pregnant when they first fucked so that means Vada can go into rut. )

Oh man... y/n smells so fucking sweet though ! And all those pheromones coming from her body are amazing! it's intoxicating!

It's just so damn hot! How is Vada supposed to resist? Her body is begging her to take action!

She aches to have y/n wrapped up in her arms right now, to feel her soft skin against hers and hear her moaning in pleasure as Vada takes control of y/n's body... Fuck! Vada wants to rip y/n's clothes off! She wants y/n's nails scratching down her back...

I mean, she has the perfect opportunity to hump y/n's thigh but that won't be enough. Not even close! She wants y/n underneath her again... but she'll have to settle for the first option for now.

Vada sighs as she realizes there was still no way to stop herself from thinking about taking y/n in bed this morning so she grabs a pillow and decides to use that instead since she can't interrupt y/n while she's working.

Vada 's eyes wander back to y/n as she sees how the other wolf seems too distracted to notice what her mate is doing so Vada mounted the pillow, pulling her cock out of her pants with her other hand.

Vada grunts softly at the sight of how hard her cock is getting before slowly grinding against the pillow, imagining that it was y/n under her instead. She lets out a breathy moan as a strong wave of pleasure hit her.

"Y/n... come here," Vada says quietly, hoping that the h/c woman heard her.

Y/n immediately looks up at her mates request but she doesn't move at all.

"Not now honey. I'm busy."

Vada whines, knowing that she's going to regret this later but being too horny to care right now she went through with the idea.

Vada shifted into her werewolf form, still feeling a little bit of pain from the transformation due to 'wolfing out' for the first time way later in life.

She looked over at y/n with a pleading expression, her head tilting to ask for permission. If y/n was paying any attention to Vada she'd understand the unspoken question, but y/n simply continued typing away.

Vada growled lowly before sneaking up on r and putting her front paws on y/n's shoulders. Y/n let out a squawk of surprise, not expecting such a sudden attack by the large wolf formerly known as 'Titan.'

Vada's sudden attack made y/n's cup of coffee tip over, causing a small stream of coffee to spill onto the keyboard.

"Fuck!" Y/n exclaimed while attempting to clean up the mess. when y/n finally cleaned up the mess Vada caused she looked up from her laptop screen where she found two angry looking brown eyes glaring at her.

Vada growled at her, teeth bared as threateningly as possible.

"Fuck, Vada, calm down! What do you want?" Y/n sighed tiredly, realizing that her mate had gone into rut and that's why she's hornier than usual.

She knew this was bound to happen and she wanted to make peace with the fact, but she really hoped it wouldn't affect her work.

"I want you..." Vada said darkly. Y/n gulped nervously, not really knowing what to say to the menacing 9 foot tall beast in front of her.

"Um... Okay..." y/n replied, hoping that Vada would give up.

"No." Vada snapped, "You have no idea how badly I want you right now! I want to rip your clothes off and fuck you senseless! I want to see your beautiful pussy, smell your delicious juices and-"

"Woah woah woah! That's enough!" Y/n exclaimed, holding up both hands in surrender. "What's gotten into you today?"

"Just shut up and let me fuck you! Hands and knees Omega." Vada ordered, narrowing her eyes at her mate. Y/n swallowed nervously and did as told.

Vada wasted no time ripping her mates shirt clean u. half, grabbing y/n's hips and pulling her towards her. Vada licked at the nape of y/n's neck as she took her underwear off too before roughly shoving herself inside of the now shorter woman under her.

"You're killing me, omega!" Vada groaned, thrusting harder and harder as time passed. Y/n struggled to take Vada's huge cock.

In her wolf form Vada's dick stands at a cool 12 inches, meaning she was big as fuck compared to y/n's little body. (but still smaller than the average Werewolf.) Y/n can actually barely take Vada when she's in her wolf form because Vada's cock gets as thick as y/n's forearm.

Vada growled into her mates ear as she continued to pound into the smaller woman. Vada could feel her knot starting to expand, her body preparing for her to breed her mate soon.

"I'm going to breed you soon Omega. can you feel my knot starting to expand?" The large wolf growled, already starting to drool on the Omega's bare back.

Y/n moaned loudly in response, her face contorting in pleasure as Vada thrusted deeper into her. It wasn't long until she felt Vada's knot start to swell even more... how will that fit inside of her!?

As Vada began to thrust faster and harder Y/n couldn't contain herself anymore, She came all over the werewolves cock which triggered said werewolves own orgasm.

The big, thick knot quickly got shoved inside of the omega. Breeding her for sure this time.

The large beige werewolf fell to her side , bringing her mate with her and making y/n lay on her fluffy little wolf chest while they wait for Vada's knot to go down.

"You did so well y/n... I'm so proud of you..." Vada said to her mate who was slowly falling asleep on top of her, leaving the important work y/n was doing on her laptop to be forgotten.

[gobiin-z]

Second part of the second part

The soldier’s eyes narrowed in confusion and his head turned as much as Rorke’s hand would allow him so he could face his superior. “I’m sorry, sir?”

Rorke spun the soldier’s body around so they were facing each other, his hand still firmly grasping the other’s jaw.

“You heard me. I fought tooth and nail to wrangle his ass and get him to where he is today. Without me, he wouldn’t have brought us that intel, and your men wouldn’t be on that mission. Everything is there because of his training. The training I gave him. Do you realise how hard it was to mold him into what he is now? You and your pathetic men wouldn’t be here without him. Without me. So don’t give me that “I’m sorry?” Bullshit, because you and I both know that without him, and without me training him, we’d be dust.”

Rorke spun the soldier back round so that he was facing the screens again. The scene had shifted, and the sniper was on another cliff over watching ground patrol as they drew closer to what had remained of a downed airplane, the place where they had found the enemy they had previously been chasing before.

“Anyways,” Rorke started, “This isn’t about me. This is about him. Look at him. The technique, the skill, the precision, it’s… it’s perfect. The ultimate weapon. Think about it Lieutenant, killing Ghosts was easy enough before, now it’s easier. We’ll find them and when we do they’ll be gone before they have a chance to attack. ….We’ll be right where we should’ve been years ago.”

A silence filled the room. The soldier didn’t know how to react to that. Thankfully, he didn’t need to, as Rorke quickly changed the subject onto what had brought the soldier to him in the first place.

“Let’s go have a chat with our friend, hm?”

Rorke hobbled over to the door, picking up a long stick leaning against the wall to the side. He shot a glance to the soldier, who was watching Rorke with the same caution from earlier.

“Come on.” Was all Rorke said, before he walked out the door, daring the soldier to follow. He did.

The walk through the ruins was quiet. The crumbled walls and debris-ridden floors were painful reminders of battles that had occurred years prior. Weeds and roots had sprouted from cracks and crevices between the bricks, invading the hallway. Rorke strode through the hallways with an air of superiority, and eventually they reached a door. A cell door. The soldier run up to the door and unlocked it, and Rorke pushed the door open.

The view that met his eyes was a view he had wanted to see for years.

A Ghost.

But not just any Ghost, one of the best Ghosts Rorke could get his hands on. The Sergeant.

“Keegan,” Rorke began, “still not willing to give anything up?”

In return, Keegan scoffed.

“I’d rather put a bullet through my brain.”

“You would? Shame. …I might have to do that for you instead if you don’t talk…” Rorke stalked closer to the bound man, circling him like a lion ready to pounce on unsuspecting prey.

“Y’know,” he started, “You’ve been here, let’s say, 6 months, and your little ghost friends still have yet to find you? It almost seems like they don’t want you back…”

Keegan’s eyes followed Rorke as he walked around him, and they narrowed as the man stopped in front of him. Rorke used the end of his make-shift cane to tilt Keegan’s head back via his chin, forcing him to look at the other.

“Final chance.” Rorke spoke, with more sternness than he had shown previously.

“Either you speak, or it won’t end pretty.”

Keegan simply responded with a sly smirk after a few seconds of silence, the smile through his mask. Rorke’s face tightened in anger and he took the stick away.

“Fine. I gave you a chance.” He took a step back, and from the holster on his outer thigh, he pulled out a handgun, his MP-443 Grach from years prior. With his free hand, he held the gun and pointed it at Keegan’s forehead.

“Sergeant Keegan, it was nice knowing you. Things could’ve gone a different way, but you made your choice.”

A wave of dread flooded Keegan’s mind almost subconsciously. He struggled against the rope tying him to the chair he was on and looked at Rorke with a sense of desperation.

“Wait, WAIT-“

With a final exhale from Rorke, he tightened his grip on the trigger. His finger pulled back and-

[generalluxun]

For the ask game: 3, 9, 10, 15

3.) Part of canon that almost nobody understands.

Hmmm. There are many ways to take this. Maybe the Lore bc t's too confusing? 🤣

How about this- Chloé's home life. And it's not that nobody understands, but some people Very Vocally misunderstand or worse, misrepresent it. I don't blame fandom because the head writer himself denies the very truth presented on screen, so what are some kids to do? The abuse narrative accidentally(?) shown for Chloe is very detailed and clear, yet some will fight tooth and nail to justify the most bizzare takes on it. I spent a couple hours the other day having a baffled back and forth with someone who thought being sent away with an abusive parent was a good/Just/proper writing choice. By the end I got them to admit that having Andre just let Audrey(the woman he wouldn't stay married to because of how she treats him) take away his daughter was a *bad* thing to portray, but it took way too long to get there.

Still, small victories I guess.

9.) The three worst things about the source material.

a)The head writer's inability to take critique/his insecurity. So much time and energy is spilled 'proving him right' that we are losing out on better plotlines. When the man writers his twitter rants into the scripts, you know he's got a problem.

b)The end of Season 5. Just... yeah so much of it. Things wobbled now and then before, but man it went off the rails, burst into flames, and destroyed a nearby orphanage at the end there.

c)I don't know? Like, so much can be traced back to 'A' above, that it's hard to pick at other stuff? There's a root cause, and it permeates. If that were fixed, the rest wouldn't happen and you'd have a more coherent and healthy narrative.

10.) The three worst things about the fandom

a)Character Salt- Holy heck people. As a Chloe fan I expect some salt thrown her way, but Jesus in Heaven *waves at what people do to Alya* What the hell is THAT? Alya is amazing, she's a wonderful bestie, Salting her? WHY? It's insane. Salting Chloe goes way too far too. She is not your personal bully. This is not revenge porn. What about the Marinette/Adrien Stan one and Salt the other? What the heck is that? They're the main couple! If you want to salt the writing, do it! It's so full of holes Plagg thinks it's cheese. Leave these poor kids alone though.

b)Purity Tests- A different kind of 'salt' than above. There are big segments of the fandom who cannot handle the slightest analysis or critique of the media. Anything but a slavish devotion and acceptance of everything on screen as the best/rightest/most moral and ethical take is considered 'hater/salt' without question. Either you are ostracized for voicing any dissent, or actively attacked.

c)Segregation- Maybe it's something common now in fandoms, but I'm struck by how compartmentalized people are. There is very little flow between the spheres. Like Love Square? then you stay away from any rare pairs involving them. Lukanette? Love Square is your bane, etc etc.

15.) Canon needs more...

Love Conquering all. S5 really drove this home. Love fails miserably time and time again in S5. It's kind of weird. People use love to *justify* actions left and right, but in the moment love tends to lead to failure and loss more than anything else. I don't understand how this was seen as a good idea.

[onthevirgeofdestruction]

Dreaming While I Wake

Words: 4,104 Warnings: Pets/Cats, Intense Hyperfocus + Dissociation causing things to be missed, Tight Enclosed Spaces, Insults (Playful), Hero Complex being set off, (non-POV) Panic attack, Food Characters: Roman, Virgil, Thomas, Patton Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Found Family

Playlist - Chapter 36

    After excusing himself from dinner and cleaning off his plates for the dishwasher, Roman hastily made his way back to the laptop to start a new canvas. He had to draw the fuzzy mercats underwater. He didn’t catch what anyone had said while leaving the table other than when he received permission to leave… or really any of the conversation between Patton and Thomas, but it was probably adult stuff. Virgil signed nothing, so the conversation likely didn’t involve them, at least.

   Roman saved and closed the old file, opening up a new large canvas and flooding it with various shades of blue and green in watercolour right away, focusing fully on creating the scene that had been filling his head throughout dinner. He had no clue if he even had the skill to pull it off, but he had infinite undos and art program tools to help him, so maybe he could get close.

   Lita had joined him on the couch, curled up next to him as he had his feet on the couch to hold the laptop at drawing level, hunched over the screen and focused in on the canvas. He didn’t feel like he could think about anything else. Roman normally would have turned on music or something to draw so that he wouldn’t just sit in silence, but pulling himself away from the mercat art felt impossible. He’d used computer art programs in the past, but they never had as many options as this one. It made him feel like he can create something awesome.

   The sounds of dishes and chatter didn’t really register with him other than passively hearing them while he looked up reference photos for marine plants to help populate the background, copying the ones he thought would blend well with others and make new underwater flora for the mercats to stalk. One sneaking through the seagrass and hunting a cricket-fish seemed really adorable, too. He had so many ideas for this that he wasn’t sure he could keep up with them all.

   The pen didn’t make any sound against the screen as he worked, which amplified the unnatural feeling. It seemed like it took more effort to do what he could with normal art supplies, but finding out how to get there was so interesting, it was hard to be frustrated while being focused fully on the art. Roman stopped thinking about all reality. He wasn’t even aware of his hand, only noticing the intersection of where the pen and laptop screen met and the colours that bloomed there.

   Something touched Roman, and he automatically shrugged it off and went back to drawing. There was a change in colours behind the tablet, but it seemed familiar enough to not worry about, so populating the world with plants was still more important. Then a hand with black nail polish pushed down the laptop and flicked Roman in the nose.

   “Virgil, seriously?” Thomas asked, and Roman shook his head a few times, blinking moisture back in his eyes. Virgil just shrugged back at Thomas and flicked Roman in the nose again. Roman scrunched his face up and rubbed his nose, trying to get rid of the horrid crawling feeling spreading across his face.

   From the indignant expression, Virgil most likely signed, ‘See!’

   “What’s up?” Roman asked, looking around to see where he was. It registered as somewhere he knew, but he couldn’t really place where. He blinked and cinched his face tight once more before releasing and shaking off.

   “Are you okay, Roman?” Patton asked with that awful concern dripping from his words.

   “Yeah, why?” Roman took a deep breath, and it almost felt foreign. There was a sudden well of panic that he stopped breathing until he realized how stupid that was, since he was still alive and all, letting it out slowly. “Fine, right, what’s going on?” Roman asked again, saving the canvas he was working on.

   There was a brief pause of Patton looking over Roman with a tight smile before he responded. “We’ve been trying to get your attention for a while, and you weren’t responding at all,” Patton asked, stepping a little closer to Roman.

   “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” Thomas asked as well. Virgil rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, leaning back and lolling his head.

   “I’m feeling like I want to draw. I’m fine. What do you need?” Roman asked shortly, not appreciating being coddled like this.

   “Remember how we talked about going to the cat café?” Patton covered his mouth with one hand, holding the other arm. What is with them?

   “Not really. When are we going?” Roman followed up, glancing at the clock on the laptop to see the time. He saw the numbers and didn’t know what they meant, though. The hour was in the double digits, and the date seemed wrong.

   “Now, ideally,” Thomas said, looking amused at Roman with a little smirk.

   “Oh, okay…” Roman trailed off slightly, closing up the laptop and putting it beside him on the couch.

   “You can take the laptop if you want to keep drawing while we’re there. Just make sure you keep a hand on it while we’re out. It will take a bit to get to on a bike,” Thomas told him, looking like he was holding back a much bigger smile. He liked the Sanders, but damn, could they be weird sometimes.

   “You’re sure?” Roman asked hopefully, putting his hand back on the laptop. “Wait, I don’t have a bike as far as I know,” he pointed out, even more confused. Fuck, his brain was in a fog, and he was not functioning, but he was very aware of his hand on the laptop.

   “We told you that you’ll both have to ride in the tow-behind.” Patton’s eyebrows stayed locked in deep concern, and Thomas put his hand on Patton’s shoulder comfortingly.

   “He doesn’t remember, but that’s fine as long as he still wants to go.” Thomas smiled at Patton, slightly shaking his head. Virgil huffed loudly, tapping his foot. “Come on, Virgil seems impatient,” Thomas said, pushing Patton out the door. Oh, there would be live models at the cat café for the mercats. Roman got off the couch in a hurry, sliding the laptop pen back in place and holding it close to himself. Virgil smiled briefly and nudged him with his shoulder, and followed Thomas and Patton out the door.

   Thomas waited for Roman to pass to lock up behind them, and Patton was wheeling out a bike with a large tent-like attachment hooked to the back. Roman got closer to look at it, and Patton pulled out the bottom pad that was caked in dog fur to replace it with a new one, then motioned with a smile to the open pod.

   “You’re serious,” Roman said flatly, and Thomas chuckled, putting his hand on Roman’s shoulder.

   “It’s the safest way, but one of you can stand on the back pegs of my bike the whole way, if Lita’s journey submarine is too tight a fit for you two,” Thomas suggested reassuringly.

   “It’s fine with me, but…” Roman looked over at Virgil, who just shrugged and climbed into the pod, scooting to the side and patting the pad. “I guess Virgil’s cool with it,” Roman commented mildly and climbed into the pod as well. A wide rubbery-looking mesh made up windows between the supports, so it wasn’t exactly claustrophobic, but Roman and Virgil sat close enough to each other that they were touching. Roman was so used to Virgil needing a wide berth that it was weird.

   “Great!” Patton enthused, zipping up the tent and moving towards the bikes. “Roman, let us know if either of you need us to stop or do anything else, all right?” Patton asked, leaning down to talk into the pod.

   “Sure,” Roman said, still feeling like this was completely surreal. Virgil didn’t act like this, right?

   Virgil nudged Roman, and he looked up to see Virgil signing ‘You’re a cranberry fuck nut’ at him, and Roman just raised his eyebrow at that. ‘Eat bees and die’ came soon after. Okay, that made sense. He was being over-dramatic again.

   ‘Shut your face, pickle-tits,’ Roman signed back with a smirk.

   “Boys,” Thomas said flatly, his hands on his hips outside the tent. “I don’t know what you’re saying, but as usual I am questioning the tone it’s taking,” he looked at them with his lips pressed into a flat line.

   “We’re simply exercising our creativity,” Roman said, finger-spelling out ‘tacky sea slug.’

   ‘Snooty snot licker,’ Virgil signed back, then stuck out his tongue, wriggling his head from side to side.

   “Virgil.” Thomas sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Never mind, as long as it’s good natured,” he changed his mind and pivoted away with a flourish, walking into the garage and pulling out another bike while Patton mounted the one with the trailer on it. Virgil made a breathy snickering noise and leaned against the tent, pulling out his phone.

   Roman took that as a good enough sign that he could go back to drawing, so he flipped the laptop open and converted it to a tablet, returning to drawing out the underwater flora. The bikes took off soon after, and Roman adjusted a few times to draw more comfortably while maintaining Virgil’s space.

   Even after finding a comfortable spot, the bike kept bumping about, so it was hard to draw while getting jostled. Focusing while moving around so much was also a struggle, and he felt a little trapped with the tent flap closed, so Roman sighed and closed up the laptop again, holding on to it with both hands against his chest while he watched the streets pass. He was still thinking about ideas, though, wondering about different applications of the tools. Roman was pretty certain he could make the ribbon tool spin plants underwater for him. He was not paying attention in the least as to why they were going to a cat café, but if Virgil wanted to go, Roman wouldn’t stop them by wanting to hang back to draw either way.

   Glancing over at Virgil, it was clear he was nervous. Virgil balled up tightly and scrolled on his phone, gripping his legs to his chest, buried with his hood up in the oversized hoodie as he worried his bottom lip with his teeth. Patton and Thomas were chatting about what to order at the café, so they must have been before. Roman felt the edge of the laptop with one hand and reached into his pocket for the fidget with the gears stashed in there, feeling it between his fingers to find the right angle and push the cogs quietly in his pocket.

   The further they got into town, the heavier the traffic on the road next to them got. If Roman had to guess, that’s why Virgil’s foot was now tapping so hard he could feel it in his whole body. Wanting to go somewhere that required passing a lot of cars with Virgil’s phobia seemed odd, but Roman could understand feeling cooped up or just wanting to see cats. Or maybe Virgil wanted something from the menu. Who knows. But Roman couldn’t help but monitor Virgil. He was getting increasingly agitated and Roman had to help somehow. Maybe Roman should ride on the pegs on the way back so that Virgil can spread out. Or maybe he wanted Roman nearby? It was impossible to tell with Virgil. Roman knew basically nothing about him.

   Roman regretted not asking how long the ride would take, getting increasingly restless. Maybe he had time to pull out his phone, too. Roman laid the laptop on his thighs and fished out his phone, still spinning the cogs as he fought the phone open. Roman huffed and put down his phone to pull the glove tighter with his teeth to be able to use the touch screen, and the press registered this time for him to enter his passcode and look up some underwater ruins for inspiration.

   There was a tire screech nearby that made Roman jump, looking up at the car that must have been going too fast for the stop sign. Roman sighed and looked back at his phone, scanning the ruins. The pod was shaking, and Roman leaned over to see what they were biking over, but it was the same urban streets as before, so he looked around for what else was wrong. Virgil’s face was pale, and his forehead was sweating, his hand still positioned like he was holding his phone, but it had fallen out. Oh, shit. The car that was bad at braking. Fuck, does Virgil want him to get Patton and Thomas, or does he want to deal with this himself?

   Virgil didn’t respond when Roman signed at him, even after tapping Virgil’s knee to get him to look. He was still staring straight ahead and breathing hard, coming in as little as shudders rather than deep breaths. Roman put his hand flat on Virgil’s knee and squeezed slightly, and Virgil’s eyes shot to it, then Roman in short order.

   ‘Do you want them?’ Roman signed quickly, and Virgil shook his head, pulling in his knees tight to his chest. Roman’s phone went off with an alert, and Roman grunted, pulling up his phone to see what was so damn important. It was just his breathing alarm, so he turned off the notification and threw it to the side. Virgil’s eyes darted between Roman’s face and the discarded phone as he hyperventilated while Roman tried to figure out what to do.

   “It’s just my breathing alarm,” Roman mumbled, racking his brain with how to help Virgil. He couldn’t just let him stay like this. Oh. Breathing. “Oh, uh, shoot. Got to do my breathing. You know. Deep breaths as slow as you can. So annoying. Anyway,” Roman was aware how not-subtle he was, but as long as nobody else noticed but Virgil. Virgil just stared at him. Okay, time to be even less subtle.

   “In,” Roman started and took in a deep breath. Virgil lagged, but started soon after him. Thank fuck. “Hold,” he instructed, keeping a hand on Virgil since Virgil hadn’t shoved him off yet, and if he was panicking, he’d love to have something to focus on himself. “Out,” he said, slowly breathing out at the same time. Roman started over with instructing him, but in ASL this time, still performing each exaggerated breath as an example. For once, his minimum length of the exercise didn’t seem like a bad thing. He vaguely remembered Patton calming him down from hyperventilating like this, so it probably wasn’t counter-productive at least, but he had no idea if this would help at all.

   Virgil followed, which was almost as surprising as him letting Roman be so close to him. But the shaking slowed down to a shuddering halt under Roman’s hand, and Virgil’s eyes went from dinner plates back to only a little wider than the normal tired expression, so it must have been doing something. Roman ignored timing the exercise at all, just going to keep at it until Virgil is no longer as stiff as a statue.

   He did eventually sag against the tent, nodding his head, which Roman understood as meaning to stop guiding him. ‘You good?’ Roman signed, letting go of Virgil’s knee as well. Virgil nodded slowly and continued to breathe deep on his own, though there were still a few shudders.

   Virgil looked at Roman oddly before signing, ‘no smoke?’

   Roman blinked a few times and sniffed at the air, smelling nothing but tarmac, spent rubber, car exhaust, and a hint of fast food oil. ‘No,’ he signed back and Virgil nodded again, sighing heavily, slumping against the tent to lie down, feet pushing against the tent door in an uncomfortable position. Virgil was too tall for this thing. Roman shifted Virgil to his side by his hoodie, letting Virgil bend his legs into where Roman was sitting, and Roman tucked his feet behind Virgil’s knees to give him a little more room. Virgil didn’t move from the floor, just adjusting his hood and closing his eyes.

   Confirmation that he was okay would have been nice, but whatever. Virgil was breathing better, and that’s what was important. Roman put on some Lo-Fi to help mask the sound of traffic, though it wouldn’t drown out the peal of tires. It just felt better than doing nothing. Roman sighed and leaned his head back on the tent wall, looking up at the arch. He hoped the cat café would be worth it for Virgil. Roman wasn’t exactly going to brave the choking factory tour for fancy chocolate at the end.

   But then again, cars were kind of more unavoidable than the smell of whiskey and hands around your throat. Virgil had it rough. Roman glanced out the side of the tent, seeing a shopping center glide past. It was still bright out, so they must have eaten dinner early today to make sure they weren’t out too late. The Sanders put a lot of forethought into things. They were considerate people, which left a bittersweet feeling in his heart. They pulled into a small strip center and parked their bikes on the rack on the sidewalk.

   Neither Roman nor Virgil bothered moving until Patton came around to unzip the tent, exclaiming, “We’re here!” Roman lifted his legs up for Virgil to get out of the tent first. Virgil rubbed his face with his hoodie sleeves and rolled to get up, adjusting his hoodie as he got out. He stretched while Roman crawled out of the opening, holding on to the laptop carefully and making sure his phone was situated tightly in his pocket. He swept the tent to make sure he had everything and grabbed Virgil’s phone, passing it off to Virgil silently. “It’s nice to see—” Thomas put his hand on Patton’s shoulder and shook his head with exasperation, cutting Patton off. Virgil and Roman both looked at Thomas in confusion, along with Patton, but Patton seemed to trust whatever that was and zipped the tent closed.

   “Let’s get a table.” Thomas smiled brightly and headed into the café covered in garish cutesy decorations. Roman grimaced, wondering how they got boys to come in here normally. Roman had nothing against the design, but he wouldn’t want to get photographed next to it. Virgil tucked his hands into his hoodie pocket and hunched over, following Thomas in while Roman looked at the exterior. He swallowed and headed in, followed closely behind by Patton.

   The café smelled amazing. The smell of hot chocolate and baked goods smacked him in the face as soon as he entered. They decorated it with lots of pastels, soft spots for the cats to recline, and a very complex-looking series of cat-platforms up the walls. The café was very casual with bench-seats at the tables and a self-service counter. Roman wondered how the cat hair from the ten-odd cats he spotted in the small café wasn’t an issue, but maybe that was just something you had to accept as a patron here.

   Thomas walked up to the counter and smiled at the person behind it. “Give us a sec. Get two things each, boys. Roman, don’t look at the prices and just order what you actually want to eat. We came all the way out here, so let’s enjoy it the best we can, yeah?” Thomas said pointedly, and Roman huffed, crossing his arms over the laptop as he rolled his eyes. Thomas really up and called out Roman in front of the person at the register?

   Virgil looked up at the menu quickly and signed at Roman ‘Dark hot chocolate and chai cheesecake,’ without hesitation. Geez. Maybe he’d been here before. That was a few seconds, tops. Thomas looked at Roman expectantly. Fuck, making choices is garbage. Roman scanned the menu as fast as he could. The hot chocolate was the only thing that wasn’t a smoothie and didn’t have coffee, so at least that was a given. There were way too many choices of desserts, though.

   “Two dark hot chocolates and two chai cheesecakes,” Roman said, just opting to follow what Virgil chose instead of making them wait any longer. He wouldn’t enjoy himself if he panicked about the menu, that’s for sure. Suck on that, Thomas. Virgil headed over to a table and Roman followed, not wanting to hear the total when they finished ordering. Roman didn’t like dark chocolate so much he’d order a mug of it, but maybe with the cheesecake it would balance out the bitterness. He didn’t care as much about eating food he didn’t like as much as others did, so it wasn’t as big a deal to Roman as Thomas made it out to be if he got something he only kind of liked.

   A white cat and a tabby cat came up to them as Roman sat down on the bench next to Virgil, the tabby cat hopping up on the bench across from them and the white cat going under the table to rub against their legs. Virgil smiled and leaned down to put his hand out for the cat to sniff, petting the cat after it greeted him. Roman watched the tabby with interest as it stared back. Maybe Roman failed the vibecheck, because it hopped up on a shelf on the wall, climbing up high with lithe movements. It was exactly what Roman was looking for, though. Roman flipped open the laptop to sketch the escaping cat on a fresh canvas.

   Virgil snickered, turning to the side and focusing on the cats while Roman sketched the tabby. He moved on to sketch a black cat partially falling off a shelf while lazing, then the white cat when Virgil got up to play with it with one of the provided toys. The jumping around was perfect, so quick gesture sketches of the cat were exactly what Roman was looking for to impart that weightless feeling to the mercats. When Virgil returned, Roman picked a few gestures to fill out to put in the underwater scene, wondering how best to paint the cat fur.

   “Hey, buddy, don’t let your hot chocolate get cold,” Patton said, rapping a knuckle on the table. Everyone had already taken their seats and had partially eaten their desserts, with Roman's untouched in front of him. He sheepishly and saved the canvas to hold in his lap while he ate his treats. The hot chocolate was leaking onto the saucer with soft whipped cream and adorable half-melted cat-shaped marshmallows. That must be why Virgil got the dark. All the sugar on top would make the milk chocolate too sweet.

    Roman picked up the mug and leaned over the table to stay over the saucer a bit to take a drink, dribbling a little on his chin and cleaning up with the fabric napkin under the cheesecake plate. Virgil smirked and made a show of taking a cleaner sip, and Roman rolled his eyes, going for a bigger drink this time. It was definitely the homemade kind from real chocolate and not any packet mix. The cocoa was the perfect temperature right now, and if you let it cool too much, the thick stuff will settle in at the bottom of the mug somewhat, and he didn’t want chocolate sludge.

   The cheesecake was more spiced than sweet, but it was really delicious with the hot chocolate. Virgil once again absolutely knew what he was doing with unexpected flavour pairings. ‘Good taste, Virgil,’ Roman signed at Virgil, who just shrugged in response and kept eating. Thomas looked at him oddly, but he wouldn’t up and admit out-loud that he just ordered what Virgil did just so he didn’t have to make a choice.

   Virgil looked much calmer already, even kind of happy. It was hard to see the little smile, but he watched the cats along the wall while he sipped at the hot chocolate. Thomas and Patton talked animatedly about their favourite cats (a black and white one yawned, causing a lot of cooing). With images of underwater cat scenes floating through his head and desserts in his mouth, and Virgil smiling genuinely next to him even though just moments ago he was freaking out… Roman couldn’t help but wonder if maybe braving the choking factory tour might be more worth it than he assumed it to be. At least… the concept of it, anyway.

[sinner-as-saint]

Like A Villain

Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader AU

Requested. 

Run-through: The team is away, leaving you alone at the tower. And that’s when the enemy attacks. Assassins of HYDRA came to take you out, thinking you’re nothing but a helpless, new addition to the team. But little do they know that you too can fight like a villain. When the team comes back home to the bloody mess you left behind after dealing with the enemies, a certain blue-eyed, metal-armed super soldier is highly impressed; and suddenly he wants all the fierce aggression that you displayed directed right at him… 

Themes: smut, avenger!reader, 

a/n: for the lovely @breathtaking-cynthia​ 

“Play the footage,” Tony called out to the AI, “I wanna see this.” He said, and gave you a smile and a wink to show just how proud of you he was. 

You smirked, hopping up on the nearest table and watched how the screen started replaying the security camera footage from just a little over an hour ago. The team wasn’t here when HYDRA showed up at the tower. So you had to defend yourself and the tower all by yourself, and you did a pretty good job - as the team was about to witness. 

They all stood around the screen, still in their combat suits as they watched. 

The footage: 

You were sitting on a stool at the kitchen island, on your floor, putting your nail polish on when the AI suddenly announced that someone was in the tower and that it wasn’t any member of the team. 

You smirked, “Hydra?” You asked. 

“Yes.” The AI replied. 

“Let them come. Let the bastards think they’re sneaking up on me.” 

“Noted.” 

A few minutes of complete silence later, while you were just finishing up your nail polish, footsteps were heard behind you. You turned to face them with a deadly, villainous smile; occasionally blowing on your fresh manicure. 

“Well, hello there.” You taunted the men who faced you while cracking their knuckles - showing off. 

“Did the team leave you home alone? All helpless?” One of them asked, and you’d recognize that traitor’s voice anywhere. Rumlow. “Give up, you don’t wanna mess up your pretty nails now, do you, Princess?” 

You leaned back against the kitchen island, looking all bored and unbothered. “You think I’m helpless because I just got my nails done?” You chuckled, “I could fight you and your pathetic men and still not mess up my pretty nails.” 

He snarled, and his men all took a step forward in unison. You shook your head at them. Pathetic indeed. You smirked as you hopped off the stool, “Alright boys, let’s get this over with.” 

They came at you one by one. Thank fuck it was just hand to hand combat because there was no way you’d survive bullets. But combat was your forté - though a challenge now because you couldn’t possibly mess your nails up. Of course, it was a silly promise that you made earlier but you liked to show off. Just a little. 

You limited using your hands; just the elbows. Which happened to be to your advantage because elbow strikes hurt so much more than punches. So you fought, dancing your way around the men; kick, duck, elbow strike and repeat. Over and over again. 

One of them tried to grab you but you escaped just in time, however he tore a piece of your clothes. You kicked that one extra hard in the face, breaking his nose and knocking him out cold immediately, yelling, “That was my favourite sundress!” 

Rumlow fled at some point, realising who and what he was up against, leaving his men behind for you to absolutely obliterate and leave into a pile of bloody mess and broken bones. 

You pinned down the last of them with your thighs, straddling him to the floor as you repeatedly brought down your elbow to his face - hard enough to knock him out, but just enough to keep him alive - your agents could use him for questioning later, you thought. 

With the last one down, you panted as you stood up and looked around at the men lying on the floor, bleeding even more than you did. You wiped the cut on your lip with the back of your hand before lifting your hands up to your face, checking your fresh manicure and just as promised, your nails remained intact. Perfect as always. 

You even made a show of blowing on your nails before looking up to where you knew the security cams were recording. You blew a kiss to the cams and winked before asking the AI to call for backup and agents to clean up and take care of the aftermath of what just happened while you went away to clean up after yourself. 

Once the AI stopped the footage, the entire team turned to look at you with proud smiles and nods. 

“That’s my girl!” Nat said, raising her fist to bump against yours. 

You gave her a bright smile before turning to Bucky, who stood there so still. You and Bucky were known to always argue about which one of you has better combat skills. So you asked, “What do you say, soldier? Am I finally better than you?” You smirked, watching him as he frowned ever so slightly at you. 

He was indeed proud but he still scoffed, “Your strikes could be a little cleaner.” He mumbled before walking away, the entire team either shaking their heads or chuckling after him before they walked up to you to tell you how proud they were.  

– 

Bucky didn’t stop at all until he reached his floor, where he could finally breathe right. Because fuck that was hot. Watching you fight and take down those men, all the perfect strikes and powerful kicks… you looked like a god, even in your little cocktease of a sundress. 

“Fuck…” Bucky swore under his breath, looking down to the massive erection in his pants. Yup, you did that. That footage was gonna be the death of him. Not to mention the way you’d pin down that one guy with your thighs? Bucky had never been more jealous of a man before seeing that. He wanted to be straddled by you; with you either on top of his cock or his face he didn’t mind which one. 

That alone would keep him up at night. The sight of another man writhing beneath you as you went absolutely feral while defending yourself and your home. Fuck… he couldn’t take it. He was so turned on, it hurt. 

He sighed as he walked into the shower, already knowing what his night would consist of tonight: replaying that footage of you pinning down that guy with your thighs, and his cock in his hand. 

— 

When Bucky woke up the next morning, needless to say with a boner, the last thing he expected to see was you standing at the end of his bed. Arms crossed over your chest, with a smirk on your face. Wearing one of those damn sundresses you always wore whenever you weren’t dressed in your combat suits; the kind that made him want to tear them off of your body and empty himself inside your body. 

He held back a groan as he grabbed a nearby pillow and tried to place it over his erection as subtly as one can but you caught it. 

“There’s no need to do all that. I could see your boner through the blanket.” You said with a straight face, trying to hide the excitement. 

He groaned out loud, “What do you want? Go annoy someone else.” He mumbled, getting out of bed in nothing but his boxers, strutting lazily all the way to his bathroom. 

Your voice, more like the accusation in it, made his stop halfway. “I heard you, watching the footage last night. I think you tend to forget that my floor is right above yours, and I have excellent hearing.” You smirked as he turned to face you with a raised eyebrow. 

“And?” He asked, pretending like he didn’t care. 

“And,” You took a step forward, “Why were you replaying the ending? Over and over again?” You asked, giving him that seductive, lethal faint smile that most men fell for. 

Bucky shrugged, “None of your business. Now get out of my room.” He said, turning around to walk away, hiding his growing erection. 

You chuckled, “You look like you got caught. Otherwise why are you running away from me?” 

“I’m not running, I’m going to shower and brush, now get out of my room and go annoy someone else. I’m sure Steve would be free right now.” He said as he entered the bathroom and shut the door behind him. 

You called, “I’ll be right here, waiting for you to come out!” 

He replied back, “Be my guest!” And then you heard the shower turning on. 

You smirked and jumped back into his bed, not caring that he would kick you out the moment he stepped out of the shower. You smiled to yourself as you buried further under his comfy covers, stretching like a kitten on his warm bed as you breathed in his scent. He always smelt so good. 

Fifteen minutes later, Bucky still hadn’t walked out of that bathroom. 

“Are you hiding from me in there? Like a coward?” You called out, chuckling to yourself, knowing that that would make him walk out immediately. And it did. 

Two seconds later, Bucky walked out and glared at you as you lounged on his bed. His long hair was still damp, so was his chest. He was now dressed in dark grey sweats which matched his shiny metal arm. He looked good enough to eat. 

But first, you’d get that answer out of him. 

“Friday?” You called out, summoning the AI. “How many times exactly did Bucky watch that footage of me fighting the bad guys last night?” 

Less than a few seconds later came the reply, “Seven times.” 

You smirked at Bucky, and you said to the AI, “Thank you.” Bucky visibly tensed up as you eyed him up and down. “Seven times, huh?” You teased. “I heard you, you know?” 

He sighed as he approached the bed, looking unbothered, “Get out.” 

You shook your head, smirking at him. Bucky barely had time to process what happened because by the time he did, you’d already pulled him down onto the bed and straddled his waist, pinning him down on the soft blankets. 

“I saw the way you clenched your fists while watching the footage with the rest of the team last night,” You whispered, trailing your fingers up and down his arms before grabbing both his hands, flesh and metal, and bringing them up to rest on either side of your waist. 

Bucky instinctively grabbed you and kept you in place above him. “That didn’t mean anything.” He said, his voice much deeper than earlier. 

“Oh?” You taunted, “My guess is that you were either impressed by my amazing skills, or…” You trailed off, grinding on him, feeling his bulge throbbing beneath you, you held back a gasp as you said, “Or you were turned on when you watched me straddle the bad guy.” 

Despite being a super soldier, he couldn’t hide the blush on his cheeks at the sound of that. You chuckled, grounding your hips against his even more. Bucky couldn’t hold back the grunt which escaped his lips this time, “Fuck… are you not wearing panties?” He asked, as if accusing you of something. 

“No,” You replied, sounding so casual and nonchalant as you lifted up the hem of your dress to show him, “See?” 

Bucky groaned at the sight of his clothed, erected cock so perfectly nestled against your bare, warm, wet flesh. You were leaving behind a patch of wetness on the front of his sweatpants as you kept grinding against him, gasping so quietly in pleasure that it made him lose his mind. He looked up at you, stared into your eyes with his lips parted in hunger. 

“What do you want, huh?” He asked, tightening his grip on your waist, which was the only way to keep his hands occupied and keeping them from grabbing you and fucking you hard and fast. 

“For you to answer my question, of course.” You said, teasing him even more. “Were you impressed, or turned on? Maybe both?” You teased. “Maybe you wanted to be the one in between my thighs instead. Hmm? What was it?” 

Oh he had enough. He grabbed you by the throat, flipping the two of you around. He pinned you down on his bed, keeping you in place by your throat as he leaned in to whisper, “Stop fucking teasing me. You came here to fuck, right? So either you let me fuck you nice and hard, or you walk away right now. Which one will it be?” 

Your body melted under his touch. And he was so, so tempting to give in to. You almost begged him for it. But you still teased him because watching a man of his magnitude losing his mind was a different kind of adrenaline rush. 

“You tell me,” You sassed, “You’re the one who most probably came too many times while you watched me straddle another man last night, wishing it was you instead,” You smirked, “Like a perverted little boy.” You added, solely to mess with him. 

One moment you were pinned down under him. And with the next few seconds, he’d torn your dress off of you, throwing the destroyed scraps of fabric somewhere behind him before he flipped you two back around, grabbed your hips and brought your dripping cunt up to his face. 

Bucky dove right in, licking and tasting you like an animal in heat. He looked no less than a hungry beast either; his long hair all messy and wild, the heated look in his eyes, the way his beard made your skin burn. 

You whined and moaned above him, unable to form coherent words or thoughts as he slid his tongue in and out of you, and around your throbbing clit. “Oh… Bucky!” You exclaimed when he playfully bit down on your clit. 

“Yeah?” He whispered, lips brushing against your slippery, wet folds, “This feels good, huh?” 

You whined, nodding and pulling handfuls of his hair as he ate you out. 

“Ride my face, come on,” He demanded, gripping you by the hips and pressing you further down onto his face, smothering himself in between your thighs. 

You giggled, his beard felt funny in between your legs as you rode his tongue just like how he asked. Bucky moaned shamelessly from beneath you, barely pulling away for air as he went wild, eating you out like he so desperately wanted. 

“Is this what you wanted? Ever since you saw that footage?” You taunted, knowing he wouldn’t take the time to reply because he was having too much fun tasting you. “You couldn’t wait to be crushed between these t-,” 

He cut you off by growling, throwing you down on the bed and climbing on top of you immediately before you could even process it. Next thing you knew, his lips were on yours and you tasted yourself on his tongue when he shoved it in your mouth. 

You whined beneath him, lifting your hips up in the hopes of grinding against his throbbing erection but he wouldn’t let you. You scratched down his muscular back, making him groan against your mouth. 

His hissed in pain, “Alright, alright, you brat.” He growled, “Spread your legs for me.” And you did as he asked so quickly that he couldn’t help but chuckle. 

You whined again, “Hurry up! We can play later, not now please…” You murmured, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes. They didn’t work on him. Instead he just trailed his metal fingers up and down your wet slit, casually and lazily sliding a finger or two; in and out as he wanted, making your back arch off the bed. “Damn you, Bucky!” You cried out. 

He smirked, then cupped you down there and said, “No one else is allowed in between these thighs from now on, you hear me?” 

You nodded quickly. 

He spoke again, “You come to me when you need something from now on. You want someone to eat you out until you can���t fucking think straight? You come to me. You need to be fucked hard? You come to me. You need a quick fuck at anytime during the day, or night? You come to me. Understood?” 

You nodded again, whining. “Oh my fucking God, Bucky! Hurry up or I swear I will go find out if Steve is indeed free at the m-,” 

“Shut up!” He spoke through gritted teeth as he pulled his sweats down just enough to free his cock, and slid it inside of your wet hole with ease. 

You gasped, struggling to breathe as he filled you up. Bucky groaned at how warm and wet, and tight you were. You moaned as he removed himself entirely and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you struggled to adjust to his size. 

You were a moaning mess under him in no time. He kissed your open mouth while he rammed into you over and over again. “Bucky… please,” You whimpered. 

“Hungry for my cock, now aren’t you?” he mumbled as he sped up into you. He pulled away from your face to look down at you, his metal hand coming up to wrap itself around your throat. “This is what you wanted? Hmm? This cock right here is what you wanted?” He taunted as he stretched you out completely, thrusting deeper into you. 

“Yes…” You cried out, “Please, please, please… more!” 

Bucky laughed, pounding harder into you. “You’ve been teasing me for a long time, you know that? Always taunting me, always showing off how much better than me you are…” He alternated between slowing down and speeding up as he fucked you. 

Your mind was a foggy mess, struggling to register and process his words. 

“Always walking around half naked in the mornings, testing me…” He growled, “Always showing off these lovely thighs…” He pulled out, leaving you gasping at the loss of contact, he reached down solely to bite down hard on your soft thigh before sliding back into you, making you moan and lose your mind. “That’s right baby, moan for me.” He whispered against your open mouth before shoving his tongue in there, swallowing your pathetic moans. 

“I need to cum, Bucky please,” you cried, with tears in your eyes. 

He surprised you when he said, “No, not so easily,” He pulled out of you, laid down on his back before pulling you on top of him again; sliding his cock back into you from under you he said, “You don’t get to come so easily while I do all the work.” He smirked, “Now come on, work for it.” 

You growled, wrapping both your hands around his throat while he laughed. Fuck, if you weren’t this needy maybe you’d actually knock him out cold too. But fuck he felt so good inside you, you couldn’t get enough. 

“You don’t get to boss me around like this, you hear me? I’ll obey just this once, understood?” You stared down into his pretty blue eyes, keeping your hands around his throat, applying just the slightest bit of pressure. “Just this once.” You repeated. 

He gave you a cocky grin despite you choking him. “Oh please, you’ll be back time and time again begging for this cock.” 

You almost argued, but then realised that it might be true. So instead, you just placed your hands on his muscular chest to hold yourself up as you rode him. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you up and down his cock until you both found a pleasurable pace. 

“Fuck…” You moaned, “You feel so fucking good!” 

His thick, throbbing cock stretched you open as you took him as best you could, moaning and whimpering desperately as he groaned and gasped under you. “That’s it, ride me. Ride my cock.” His grip on your hips tightened as he brought you down on his cock with force each time and thrusting upwards to fuck you deeper. “Come for me, baby.” He threw his head back, growling. “Come for me!” 

Your hands tightened around his throat as you leaned in to press your lips against his, claiming his open mouth and muffling his animalistic growls as you came undone around him again. “Come with me…” You whispered, desperate to feel him inside you. 

And he did. Groaning, and gasping as your hands tightened around his throat one last time before you let go. 

You both caught your breaths, coming down from that high together. You got off of him and laid down on his bed, trying to calm your racing heart. 

“Wow.” You both said in unison, before looking at each other and chuckling. 

“That was…” Bucky trailed off. 

“Yeah.” You answered, breathlessly. 

He turned to face you with mischief in his eyes, reached out and trailed a finger lazily down your damp cheek, “You wanna go again?” 

To which you replied, enthusiastically, “Fuck yeah, come here!”

[stutterfly]

Swipe Right 04 | Patch Notes | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

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

Word Count: 15.1K

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

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

Series: Activate your SIMCard

Fic: Swipe Right (4/?- Ongoing)

Do not repost.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook: Surprised you didn’t block me

You: Don’t worry I’m gonna

Jungkook: it’s bc you wanna know huh

You: ???

Jungkook: Your legs

Jungkook: Like oreos

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

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

You: I wish I could unread 🤢

Jungkook: Aw but that’s one of my favorites

Jungkook: Just like you 😘

You: 🙄

You: I hate you so much

Jungkook: So much that you matched with me?

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

Jungkook: You’re still here which means 👀

You: It means I’m tired

Jungkook: Of?

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

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

Jungkook: I’m good with my fingers 🥴

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

You: You know what? I want you

FUCK. Goddamn you, sausage fingers.

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

Jungkook: 😈

Jungkook: My place

Jungkook: Ten minutes

You: *to stay off my profile

Jungkook: 👉👌?

You: YOU KNOW I DIDN’T MEAN THAT

You: 🤢🤢🤢

Jungkook: 😩

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

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

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

Jungkook: Ouch felt that from here

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

Jungkook: Hey quick question

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He forgot.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened? Did he hurt you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Zip up your hoodie.”

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

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

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

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

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

Even he knows that argument is flimsy.

“Guk.”

“It was always just a joke.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not every girl is a Jiseo, Jungkook.”

“Yeah.”

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

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

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“With beef?” you ask with a sniffle.

“With beef,” he agrees.

“Gyoza?”

“Mhm.”

“And takoyaki?”

“...You’re pushing it.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

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

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

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

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

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

"Wow. Are you guys on a date?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? When?”

“The other day. We hung out.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You guys talked about me?”

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

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

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

“No one likes clickbait, Joon.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N.”

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

“We allowed to talk about Jason?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

JUNGKOOK: Don’t worry

JUNGKOOK: I got u

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, really it’s okay.” You laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Um, how about... tempura?"

"Banana?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, really?”

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

“I’ve been a dick.”

“No shit.”

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

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

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

“You don’t say.”

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

“I never wanted to hurt your feelings.”

“Well, you did,” you mumble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For real.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyebrows rise into your hairline. “Really.”

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

“I want that in writing,” you snort.

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

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”

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

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

Princess

I’m sorry. I can make it right.

I promise. Please give me another chance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N was telling me why she’s sad.”

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

“Joonie—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

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

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

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

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

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

It’s also kind of cute.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, that’s mine!” he pouts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like, full body?”

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

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

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

“Which one?”

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

“Princess… Did you join Iron Kingdom?”

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

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

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

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I hear a pop.”

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

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

“Oh no. Knees?”

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

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

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

“Uhh…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N.exe has stopped working.

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

“Princess! Are you… checking me out?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hesitate when he quickly quirks a brow.

“I think… A lot.”

“Definitely accurate,” he says with a grin.

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

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

“So…” he begins.

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

“I was thinking. About that guy…”

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

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

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

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

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

It's cry hours, isn’t it?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's late. I should sleep."

Or masturbate.

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

"Whoa. You okay?"

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

"Hmm. What do you need, princess?"

"Just wanna stop spinning."

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

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

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

“You gonna make it there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Princess?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Are you gonna make it, princess? he wonders.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘Night,” you mumble.

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

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

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

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

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

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

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

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

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

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑨𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒛: 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑨𝒏 𝑬𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒕/𝑬𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑴𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒀𝒐𝒖 (𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅)

Warnings: NSFW content. Read at your own discretion.

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

After endless scrolling through the list, Hongjoong was becoming impatient and fuzzy.

"Y/N just pick a goddamn movie! It's cutting into my cuddling time!" He let out a huff and plopped his body to the side on the bed, huge pouty lips as one arm reached out for you.

"Ok there! I just picked one ok?!" You slightly panicked and just clicked on whatever the next option was.

But Hongjoong was finally satisfied when you came closer to him and he could finally wrapped his arms around you, encaging you in his embrace, him the big spoon and you the little one.

"Oh it looks like it's a romantic comedy." You mused out loud, not really paying attention to what you picked.

"Perfect. I was in the mood to be a hopeless romantic anyways." When he nuzzled his nose against your neck you let out a squeal and tried to squirm out of his arms but it only served to have him wrap his legs around you.

The movie was indeed very romantic and funny for the most part. But somewhere along the way a rather not so PG scene came up that had both Hongjoong and you freezing, eyes glued to the tv in embarrassment. Just as you shifted to reach for the remote, Hongjoong's hand held your hips and effectively kept you from moving.

"Don't...." He whispered in your ear in that tone of his that had you pooling in between your legs.

You lifted your hips when he began pulling your pajama shorts and panties down, making it easier for him to take them off. You bit your lip when you felt him do the same to his sweatpants behind you.

"I thought you were in the mood to be a hopeless romantic." You teased him by pressing your ass back against him.

Hongjoong chuckled before sliding his length across your folds, lips ghosting over your neck.

"I was...but now I'm in the mood to hopelessly fuck you into the sheets."

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

You tried to keep your eyes from tilting to the side, afraid to meet your boyfriend's face as the makeout session currently playing was getting more and more heated. Your gaze shifted nervously at the table in front of you, then to the floor before it crept right back up at the screen.

Now the actors had their clothes off and although you would have looked away, seeing the male actor suddenly go down on his female counterpart had you remembering all the times Seonghwa would go down on you. You couldn't resist rubbing your thighs together as you started to get wet, your focus staying on the screen.

"Are you getting hot baby?"

Of course your reaction did not go unnoticed by Seonghwa, who had shifted in his seat to look at you as you subtly squirmed in your place. Finally looking over at your boyfriend, he was looking at you with those bedroom eyes that never failed to melt you. His eyes dropped down to your lap, tongue poking out to wet his lips. In an instant, he had gotten himself off the couch and was kneeling right in front of you.

"S-Seonghwa.." Your cheeks burned red as his hands began to undress your lower half.

He didn't stop though. He ran his hands across the smooth surface of your skin, drawing circles across your inner thighs before prying them open, your wetness exposed to him. With a subtle smirk, he began placing kisses along the trail towards your most intimate parts.

"You know it's just acting. All that on the screen? Super fake and unrealistic."

You let out a sharp gasp when he suddenly pulled you closer to him, his nose lightly bumping against your clit.

"Let me show you how you really eat out a pussy."

You threw your head back as he latched his mouth onto your heat, moans already spilling out your mouth as he worked his tongue around your clit, occasionally humming against it so you'd be left even more breathless.

"Still an hour left of the movie, let's see how many times I can make you cum."

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

Watching a movie with R rated content with your boyfriend was no mere coincidence or accident. You purposefully planned it and for a good reason.

Being the doting boyfriend he was, he let you pick out the movie while he prepared the popcorn and other snacks. He came back into the living room, clueless about what he was in for. Didn't even suspect anything as you layed your head on his chest, he simply wrapped an arm around your shoulder and would occasionally place innocent kisses on the top of your head.

When the explicit scenes started coming out, his reaction was almost immediate. He shifted rather uncomfortably and you had the perfect view of watching as a tent started to form in his pants. Smirking, you let one of your hands roam around his thigh, which had him shivering.

"I'll be right back. Gotta use the bathroom." He carefully pushed you off him, once again about to make an escape away from you.

"Jeong Yunho stop right there." You harshly said. Your tone paralyzed him in his seat, he swallowed hard and cursed himself as he felt himself getting harder at hearing your commanding voice.

Yunho widened his eyes as you began undoing his zipper, face turning beet red when you began taking his cock out.

"Y/N you know you really don't have to-"

You shut him up with a wet and sloppy kiss, surprising him when your tongue massaged onto his. You grinned when he moaned in your mouth when you wrapped your hand around his shaft.

"I know I don't have to. But I also know you have needs Yunho and I want to help you out."

Yunho couldn't help but buck his hips up into your hand as you began pumping him slowly, your other hand soon wrapping around his massive length as well since one hand wasn't enough.

"Didn't want you thinking I just wanted sex or wanted to pressure you to do something you didn't want."

His confession only made you love him more. You couldn't help but to start sucking along his neck while your hands continued to pump him.

"Believe me, I've wanted to do this for a while."

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

You weren't too particularly affected by the sex scene playing on the tv. It was mostly a soft, vanilla scene that hardly showed anything so you didn't really pay attention to it. And judging by the way Yeosang had that usual blank expression on his face, you guessed that it was the same for him.

The movie was honestly lowkey boring and full of cliche romantic stereotypes that you felt like you were about to doze off. Correction, you were dozing off, your eyelids became heavy and more than once you had to snap your head up to keep it from falling to the sides. You were drifting in and out of sleep you thought it was your imagination when you felt a hand grab a hold of yours. When you started to feel tiny kisses being drawn up your arm, you opened your eyes only to be startled by none other than the gorgeous face of your boyfriend, who was looking at you with tenderness and love.

Placing soft and tiny pecks across your face, his hands gently pushed you down onto the bed, then they locked themselves with your hands, interlacing your fingers with his. His kisses were now becoming more heated but they were still gentle, so you knew he wanted to take his time with you. When he began to rid you out of your clothes, you didn't stop him, only helped him out. Soon both of your clothes layed in a pile on the floor. Yeosang's mouth was still busy kissing across your neck and chest, while his hips grinded against yours.

"Here I thought the movie wasn't affecting you." You giggled against his lips, fingers running through his fluffy black hair.

You could feel him smile against your cheek.

"It did, it very much affected me so."

You let out a squeak when he gripped your hips and positioned himself at your entrance.

"Made you want to fuck me?" You teased him.

Shaking his head, Yeosang never took his eyes off you as he slowly inserted himself inside you, your walls perfectly nestling him. You were both hissing and moaning at the feeling, remembering that it had been way too long since you've been connected as such.

"No.....made me want to make love to you."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

Both of you stared intently at the TV. Honestly you both thought that watching 365 Days was going to end with cringing and disgust but quite the contrary, it was actually very entertaining despite how cheesy it was at times. San was making it painfully obvious how turned on he was too. He'd often take your hand and place it on his crotch. Or he'd suddenly lean in and start attacking your neck.

"Behave." You often warned him, not about to give in to his bratty antics.

San wasn't going to stop anytime soon, you knew it and you secretly wanted him to take it further. During one particular scene, San began palming himself.

"That's so hot, maybe I should do that."

You raised an eyebrow at him.

"Do what?"

He let out a mischievous smile as he stared you down, practically taunting you.

"Tie you up and make you watch as I make a whore suck my cock to show you how it's done."

No sooner those words were out of his mouth, you gripped his chin, smooshing his cheeks together before slapping him across the face. He was stunned but the slap only fueled his sexual arousal. Grabbing him by the hair, you practically dragged him into the bedroom. San landed with a thud on the bed but had to time to react as you were suddenly strapping his hands to the bedpost.

"You know...I'm actually glad I decided to keep the ropes tied here."

San let out a gasp when you stripped him of his pants, letting his erect cock hit against his stomach before taking it in your hand, giving it a firm and tight squeeze, nails digging into his shaft which had him squirming underneath you. Lowering your head, you licked your lips as his tip stood mere centimeters from your mouth.

"Now my little brat, let me remind you how much of a pathetic, worthless and stupid slut you become with just a simple blowjob."

San whined as you slurped at his head harshly before letting it go with a pop.

"And also remind you that this cock is mine and no one else gets to suck it."

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

You were honestly so startled by Mingi's piercing scream that you nearly dropped the bowl of popcorn in your hand.

"What the fuck Mingi!?" You exclaimed when he suddenly reached over and tried to take the remote while simultaneously trying to cover your eyes, effectively spilling all the popcorn on the floor.

"Inappropriate scene! Must skip!"

With one hand still over your eyes, he skimmed through the scenes until it was over and it cut to a completely different one.

"Ok , there." He sat back in his seat as if nothing happened.

You rolled your eyes at your overly dramatic bestie, sometimes you swore he was such a baby even when you knew he watched worse porn than what just played. Soon you were laughing when he started freaking out yet again when another sex scene came up, this one even more kinky than the last one.

"Why is there so much nudity and sex in this movie? I thought it was supposed to be cute?!" He started changing the scene yet again.

"Who said it isn't cute?" You snorted.

"How is 2 naked people doing the nasty anything close to being cute?"

Tired of his nitpicking and wanting to shut him up, you got off your seat and suddenly straddled him with no warning.

"What are you-"

Mingi didn't finish his sentence as he stared wide eyed at your bare chest after you pulled your hoodie over your head and let it drop to the floor. You giggled as his mouth dropped open at your breasts being so close to his face.

"See? Cute. Your facial expression is cute right now." You gently massaged his hair.

"Your boobs are really cute." He blushed when he inadvertently blurted that out.

Mingi inhaled sharply when you suddenly pressed your face close to his, your hands taking hold of his and placing them on your soft tits.

"If you want to play with them, be my guest."

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

"Are you horny yet?"

You looked over to see your annoying friend looking at you with a shit eating grin on his face.

"You wish." You scoffed at him.

Maybe you were both being stupid rather than being prideful, but neither of you wanted to budge and lose the bet you had made hours ago. You bet that the other couldn't sit through an entire 19+ movie without getting horny and running to the bathroom to go relieve your built up sexual tension. Neither of you could look away nor touch yourselves or rub against anything in any way. You both thought it was going to be a piece of cake.

But barely 20 minutes in and one of you was growing a major boner while you were sitting with drenched panties by now. Your teeth were practically gritting against each other as you tried so hard not to rub your thighs together, while Wooyoung's hands were tightly clutching the pillow he was holding. You both made the mistake to look over at each other to see how you were doing, both of your faces reflecting how turned on and needy you were.

With no words, both of you suddenly lunged at each other, not knowing what came over you both. You just knew that if you two didn't do something about it, you were surely going to go insane.

"I knew you wouldn't last." Wooyoung teased you as he slapped his cock again your clit.

"Shut up and fuck me already before I go fuck myself on my dildo and leave you with blue balls." You warned him.

Wooyoung immediately pushed into you, not letting you adjust as he instantly began to ram his cock deep inside you. Not that you cared, you were so wet and desperate to get some relieve and his cock felt amazing inside you.

"Fuck! If I had known your pussy felt this good I would have fucked you a long time ago." Wooyoung grunted as he wrapped your legs around his waist to thrust deeper in you.

Through pants and mewls, you managed to smirk at him.

"I knew you always had the hots for me."

You let out a choked gasp when Wooyoung suddenly went harder and faster in you, making you feel dizzy as you felt your built up coil about to snap.

"Don't pretend like fucking your best friend wasn't on your bucket list either."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

"Do you think spanking is actually very.....arousing?"

Judging by the way your friend was raising an eyebrow at you, you guessed it was not exactly a good question to ask. But you were curious, especially after the kinky 50 Shades of Grey scene you just saw.

"I mean...... I don't know. I've never really tried it." He answered.

"Neither have I."

Noticing your curious look, Jongho paused the movie before turning to you.

"Wanna try it out?"

When he noticed your hesitation, he shot you a kind smile.

"Look it's ok. It'll just stay between us and if it doesn't work out, no one will know."

Trusting your friend fully, you allowed him to bend you over his lap and didn't shudder away when he pulled your shorts down, your panties accidentally coming down with them.

"Holy shit..." Jongho muttered as he stared at your glistening and pink pussy, his cock throbbing inside his pants at the sight.

Raising his hand up, Jongho let it fall on your ass. He tried to be gentle, but since he couldn't really measure his strength, it ended up being rather hard, and you gasped sharply at the sting.

"I'm sorry!" He exclaimed.

"No! Do it again."

Although he was surprised by your reaction, he happily obliged, giving your ass a couple more spankings. He hated to admit it, but seeing your cheeks turn a crimson color, hearing your whimpers and watching your folds produce more juices was starting to affect him.

"Oh my god! Can you please fuck me?!" You suddenly begged him.

"Fuck! I'd love to Y/N, but I don't have any condoms." He said in a regretful tone.

"Then fuck my ass. I know you want to. I saw the way you bit your lip at the anal scene."

Jongho nearly came at your suggestion. He fumbled to rid himself of his jeans, but he got them off and his thick cock was now pushing itself into your tight hole. As he eased himself in, you let out a yelp when his hand came down to suddenly slap your pussy.

"We tried ass spanking, now let's see how much pussy slapping affects you."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.

[mirukupuddin]

A Full Physical with Fushiguro Megumi

Hey y’all, as expected this is my contribution to the Jujutsu Hub collab event with @suna-reversed ​! I had so much fun writing for Megumi and hope I can do some more JJK stuff in the future kekek please go and check out the amazing works and give them lots of love! 

Warning! this content includes sexual intercourse and violence, please do not read if you are a minor. All persons portrayed in this fic are 18+.

Warning(s): Injuries, Blood mention, Violence, Nudity, Oral sex (female receiving), Unprotected sex, aphrodisiac use, Dub-con, medical terms that are defo not correct lmao

“Fushiguro!” Kugisaki yelled out to the raven-haired man as the curse came bounding towards him at an immeasurable speed. It sunk its fangs into his arm, before dropping to the floor as Nobara nailed into the straw doll. Megumi groaned collapsing to the floor gripping onto his arm. The pain was subsiding within moments, but something pulsated within him, it felt  his skin was on fire.

“Come on, let’s get you back to the estate, maybe Doctor Ieiri can patch you up” Nobara swung her arm under Megumi’s to support him. He grunted in response, feeling the eerie sensation pass around his body.

Meanwhile at the clinic you work struck, looking incredulously at your mentor, “Eh? You really want me to take over the clinic for today? Is that really alright?”

“Goodness me, you should have some more faith in yourself, (Y/n)-chan, you did qualify after all” Shoko chuckled. “Besides, it’s looking like a pretty quiet day, isn’t it? I’m sure you will be fine. In any case, you have my number if you need further assistance” And with that, your rather exhausted mentor exited the clinic, bags in tow.

You let out a sigh looking towards the clock, it was coming up to 6pm, so there were only  3 more hours before the night team take over. You pulled out your phone, flicking past the home screen of Megumi and his dogs. These long shifts really did make you yearn a lot more for time with him. Little did you know that time was mere moments away.

The doors of the clinic slam open unceremoniously as Nobara dragged Megumi in. You ran into the front room, eyes widening at the sight of your boyfriend with his arm slung around Nobara.  

“Oh, hey (Y/n)!” Nobara grinned, shifting Megumi’s  weight so that she could grab your hand, cutely. “Fushiguro and I were a little careless and ran into some trouble with the curse down by the docks.”

Megumi refused to make eye contact with you, a light blush dusting over his pale cheeks. You smiled, kindly grabbing onto his other side and letting Nobara ease up on her hold. The three of you stumbled into the examination room, Megumi eventually finding purchase on the bed. You looked towards Nobara “I think I’ve got it from here, I’ll keep you updated with everything. Thank you for bringing this dummy back safely.” You smiled at her kindly, a smile she returned before nodding at both of you and taking her leave.

The lull of florescent lights hummed and was the only thing heard in the room. You smiled, grabbing a sterile tray, emptying some dressing pads and some saline to clean the superficial wounds that were at the top of his arm. His uniform was covering nearly all of it despite being in tatters at the wound sight.

“Take your shirt off” you continued your ministrations, gathering sample containers to make sure whatever had attacked him hadn’t poisoned him.

“Huh?” The man in questioned looked at you as if you had pulled him out of a dreamlike state, causing you to chuckle.

“I need you to take your shirt off so I can see your wounds, Fushiguro-san” You prepped the needle to perform a blood test. You ran your hands up his non-afflicted arm, goosebumps rising to the skin as you wiped the area with an antiseptic wipe.

“Fushiguro-san?” He repeated, the name sounding foreign on his ears. He winced feeling the needle penetrate his skin but it wasn’t enough to quell the faint rumbling in his chest.

“I’m at work Megumi, so it’s strictly professional.” You grinned at him before going to grab sterile pads to dress his arm. Megumi’s eyes followed your movements, dark orbs landing on the dip of your back as you bent over to retrieve the tools. Your dress rode up exposing the tops of your thighs. A growl emitted from Megumi’s chest as his cardex of lewd memories of you flash in his mind. He tried to shake the thoughts away but even shutting his eyes made him envision you bent over, with your uniform so askew and-

“Megumi? Did you hear what I said”

“Shit” Megumi thought “ Urm, no I didn’t catch that?”

“I asked you how you were feeling”

“Warm” he fidgeted in his position on the bed  “Just warm”

You walked up to the man sat on the bed, placing a hand on his forehead. He averted his eyes away from your concentrated ones. Eyes linger on the way your lips parted in concentration, he could hear his heartbeat thrumming in his ears and his face blossoming a blush. As if by themselves, his hands stopped fiddling with the bottom sheet of the bed, opting to grab you by the hips. You looked at him incredulously, as he pulled you to slot against his body, resting his face in the crook of your neck.

“M-megumi, what are you doing” You flushed, pushing against his chest.

“I’m sorry doctor, this curse has made me do such impure things and think such lewd thoughts about you” He grumbled into your neck, starting to caress your jugular with pecks. You could feel his rapidly hardening cock against your stomach, letting out a whine in protest.

His breath was coming out in laboured puffs against the crook of your neck “I can’t wait, I need to feel you, (Y/n)” he growled rutting his hips into yours.

“N-not here, what if someone comes in…” You moaned trying to resist the urge to give in. All those rational thoughts being submerged with the feeling of Megumi kissing and marking up the column of you neck. “Fuck” you sighed in resignation.

That was all Megumi needed to grab you by the hips and slam your body onto the examination bed. Your gasp allowed him to push his tongue roughly into your mouth tangling it with your own in a deep, passionate kiss. “I missed you so much” He growled pulling your hips to rut against his hard cock. His lips campaigning on bruising your neck and clavicle as his fingers reached to pull at your uniform, the buttons straining against the force of Megumi’s tugging. You grabbed his hands to stop him from ripping apart your dress, opting to take it off yourself, leaving you in just your underwear.

Megumi’s already lust filled eyes darkened at your exposed body, if he wasn’t already fixated on destroying you there was nothing stopping him now. You took off your bra exposing your breasts to him, nipples pebbling at the cold air. You ran your hands through his silky locks, his face planted in between your breasts licking and suckling at the skin and yet again marking your untarnished skin.

He bought his face up to yours kissing you deeply and grabbing at your thighs to wrap around his waist. His onyx eyes looked at yours clouded over with pure lust, an unfamiliar expression you’d never seen in the man.

“I love you so much (y/n), God, you’re going to be the end of me” He groaned into your neck making you giggle.  His hips were bucking into yours uncontrollable, as if it were acting on its own accord.

“What has gotten into you, baby?” You chuckle running your fingers down the muscular expanse of his back. He had always been built more on the leaner side but since his 20s he had grown a lot, in all the right places. Your eyes darted back to the bite that had previously been situated in the area between his shoulder and elbow, it seemingly disappeared leaving an angry red mark. The only time you had seen this was a reaction to a very potent aphrodisiac by a curse. The only cure being…release.

Your mind was ripped from your daydream as Megumi was tracing his lips along your thighs, before licking over your underwear.

“What are you thinking, Doctor (Y/n)?” Megumi hummed.

“Well- I hypothesised something…hmm.. the only treatment I can recommend is pretty lewd I don’t know if you can handle it” You remarked, pushing up onto her elbows eyeing up the man in front of you.

“Oh, is that so? What might that be then?” He smirked back playfully

“All you have to do, is cum” You rubbed your knee in between Megumi’s legs making him jolt.

“Well then-“ he huffed out, breathlessly “I better get to it then”

His tongue lolled out and he groaned tasting your essence on his tongue through your underwear. He yanked them off, tossing them with all the other discarded clothes before pulling your thighs over his shoulders and plunging his tongue into your core. You bit the back of your hand as to stop you from squealing in pleasure. Megumi moaned as he swirled his tongue around your clit, vibrating against it. You had your fingers threaded through his charcoal locks, as he licked and kissed at your pussy.

“Megumi~” You rutted your hips against his face chasing your high, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles at your hips. He sealed his lips around your clit, sucking and licking at it with gusto; he looked up through thick lashes, eyes pitch black and hazed with arousal. He pushed his finger inside you experimentally, nudging around to find the spot that makes you see stars. His tongue already lapping at your core was enough to send shivers and jolts down your spine. You moaned out his name like a prayer as he rubbed and massaged at your sweet spot. Your pussy was pulsing around his long digits, feeling like your peak was approaching with a vengeance. You threaded your fingers through his silken tresses your thighs trembling around his head. Megumi had decided he would die happy like this. Besides the point, he continued fucking you with his fingers through your climax as your gripped onto whatever purchase you were able to find. You whined as Megumi’s smooth tongue continued running over your clit, feeling overstimulated, but he didn’t seem like he was going to stop.

 “Baby,” you hummed, making him perk up, leaning his head on your thigh as he licked you one last time. He crawled up your body, planting his lips against you and rubbing his clothed cock against your core. Your hands trailed down his torso, smoothing over his abs making him shiver and groan in delight. You undid his trousers letting him kick them off, before delving your hand into his boxers. Megumi bit his lip, almost hard enough to draw blood as you palmed him. Precum was oozing out of his cock unabashedly as he whined and rutted into your hand.

“Does that feel good, Gumi~” you giggled seeing how dishevelled your poor boyfriend looked. It felt borderline sadistic seeing him gyrate into your hand so shamelessly, his eyebrows knitted in frustration.

“(Y/n), please” He grovelled burying his face in the crook of your neck, “let me fuck you, I can’t hold on anymore”

You nodded and let out a gasp as Megumi’s grasp on your hips tightened. He cock was red, leaking and throbbing as he lined it up with your slick cunt. You both heaved out a sigh as he sunk into you. You could tell he was trying to hold back, his forearms quivering and fingertips dancing along the dips of your body.

“Let go, baby, it’s okay~” Your words like treacle against Megumi’s ears. “I want you to fuck me”

 Before long, his cock was ploughing into you, the lewd noises of skin on skin echoing in the humid room. You were gripping onto his shoulders, crescent shapes etching into his flushed pale skin.

“Fuck, you’re so good, your pussy feels too good” he huffed into your ear, he was so painfully hard and your warm insides were making him feel things he couldn’t imagine. Your knuckles were paling as you clawed into his shoulders. You wrapped your legs around his slender waist pulling him into you as he rocked his hips deeper into yours. He licked up the column of your neck where he had previously marked. He bought his hands up to your face, tracing your lips with his thumb.

You leaned up to capture his lips in a passionate kiss, fingers tangling into his dark mess of hair. He grunted as your pussy tightened around him. The veins along the underside of his cock were so sensitive, they were grazing your insides so blissfully. You felt him pulsing inside you making you call out his name.

“I’m so close, baby” He growled

You smoothed a hand over his back before finding purchase on his shoulders again “me too,”

“Can I cum inside you please, oh god, (y/n)” He whined, holding back from drooling all over your steaming body. You nodded and he let out a borderline pornographic groan, spilling his seed and painting your insides. He continued fucking you through his orgasm, whining at how overstimulated and sensitive his cock was but wanting to feel your cunt gush around him.

“Ah- Meg-Megumi I can’t- I’m going to cum” You moaned wantonly, feeling his thrusts become sloppier and erratic. He was huffing into the juncture of your neck and shoulder set on making you feel the pleasure and high he was riding. He pulled your legs over his shoulders groaning at the change of angle but railing you deeper; You had to bite into the back of your hand to withhold the screams daring to slip out as your body shook in pleasure. The tight knot that had situated in your stomach unravelled as your orgasm rushed over your body in a thick fog. Megumi was practically salivating at the way your pussy was clenching and pulsing around his cock, his eyes shutting tightly being lost in the pleasure.

He collapsed on top of you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck

“You wanna do it again?” He grumbled out; his cock somehow seemingly hard.

God, this was only the beginning of the night and it was almost certain you’d be walking funny the following morning.

[songmingisthighs]

Hooked

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

ch. lxxxi - < 33

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??? × reader, ateez × reader

A freshman hookup rekindled into something new. With an incentive, of course. But what would happen if your 'relationship' led you somewhere you never thought would happen to you ?

San and Wooyoung fought for a solid 3 minutes over who gets to have you on their laps before you smack them both and pulled a chair in between them.

So there you three were, out of class and straight into a PC bang. You admit that when San told you he was kidnapping you to go on a date you didn't expect him to have brought you to play computer games. But then Wooyoung crashed in and challenged San.

Literally.

You and San were both walking hand-in-hand towards the university's gate and suddenly Wooyoung came barrelling in like a wild block of cheese rolling down Cooper's Hill.

But you didn't mind. Not when you know how both of them together would mean more chaos and it's just more entertaining.

"Sannie," you called out to him, tugging on his sleeve. He momentarily averted his attention from the screen to you. "Yes, baby?" he smiled at you before focusing back on the screen. You pursed your lips at him, pouting whilst giving him your best puppy eyes, "I'm thirsty,"

San's eyebrows furrowed, "didn't you bought a venti sized latte before we came here?" he asked, sure that you had gotten the largest size of beverage before going to the PC Bang. You wrap your arms around his closest forearm as you rested your head on his shoulder, "Wooyoungie drank like three-fourth of it," you complained, glaring at your other boyfriend who smirked at the mention of his name.

"Sharing is caring, you know?" he defended himself. You scoffed and kicked his leg, "you should've gotten your own," you muttered at him.

Wooyoung giggled but slid his chair backwards, "okay, fine, we'll get you something to drink now," Wooyoung said, getting up and pulled San up and out of your grasp.

San whined in protest at the sudden intrusion of his gaming time, saying it was Wooyoung's fault and he didn't do anything. He immediately shut up though when Wooyoung mentioned that he saw the kid who had been beating his ass in the game near the cashier.

You could only chuckle at them both, staring dreamily whilst a warm, fluttering feeling bloomed in your stomach.

"Hey," a voice called behind you.

You looked back and you internally swallowed the lump that appeared in your throat.

There were two girls standing behind you, smirk adorning their faces. You recognize them as your batch's biggest pick me up girls and gossips, people would either go to them to get tea or they'd avoid them at all cost like the plague. You had a couple of classes with them the previous semester and you had one with them in the current semester. Seeing that they were from communications, you were quite glad. But due to the current inevitable truth spilt, you had just been actively avoiding them.

Awkwardly, you smiled at them both, hoping that they were just coming by to say hello. Sadly, there's a 99.9% chance of that not happening.

"Hi," you answered back to them.

"Funny meeting you here, never pegged you to be a gamer," one of them spoke out.

It was irritatingly creepy how they made each other look so similar. The outfits, the hairstyle and colour, the nails? Are they purposefully TRYING to look like twins?

You let out an awkward chuckle at them, "Not really, I didn't come here alone," you said, not really wanting to tell them who you came with, " I didn't know you both like to go to PC Bangs too," you added.

Both of them nodded their heads towards the direction of 5 guys, pushing one another as their eyes glued to the screens in front of them. "We don't go here on our own accords, we're here with the boys," one of them said.

Suddenly, the other one stepped forward and leaned in close to your face, making you slightly uncomfortable, "But I'm not surprised that you're here playing, though," she said.

At that, you furrowed your eyebrows, confused.

"How do you mean?" You asked.

Realizing you just caught her bait, she smirked wider. Her hand reached forward to pat you twice on the head, "I mean you're such a player, bet you like playing games, right? Or you perhaps like to hang around here, looking to rope in more boys into your STD dungeon?"

What she said wasn't even clever, yet they were both cackling as if they had just roasted Albert Einstein. That pissed you off more than the fact that they had just practically called you a whore.

Your jaw clenched tight when they didn't stop their laughter. You tried to hold it in, not wanting to have an outburst in a public space occupied mostly by people from your campus. But by God, shoving a CPU in their mouths seemed like a good idea.

Not being able to stand their laughter anymore, you push yourself up to stand before them. Their laughter died down slightly, noticing how your eyes burn with intensity, as if ready to pounce at them.

"Funny you should say that when that's what you're both doing," you scoffed, crossing your arms in front of your chest. "What are you talking about?" one of them asked. "An Australopithecus would've understood what I meant quicker than these airheads," you muttered under your breath before continuing, "What was the point of coming up to me here anyways? Trying to prove that you're better than me by telling me that my relationship is a sham? You know what's a sham? Your hair colour, nose, lips, double eyelid, chin, and pretty sure if a door slam to your bodies, your boobs will pop like a fucking water balloon," you spoke in one breath.

Maybe it was the accumulated stress from having to deal with the judge-y shitheads in your class and literally everywhere around campus, or maybe it's just you wanting to channel your anger at something. Before you know it, you took menacing steps to them, cornering both girls against the table behind them.

You jab a finger at one of their chests, "You both act like you're the saints of the campus when fact is at least three fourth of us don't give even a tenth of a fuck for you both so you went on chasing, hanging out with boys because what was it that you said? Befriending girls is too much? We're too much drama? If so, then what are you both? You created at least 87% of the drama that you have ever been into. Did those boys even wanted you two around or did you two just latch onto them like fucking leeches? Call me a whore, call me a slut or whatever 'clever' thing you can come up with, but at least the people I'm with genuinely wants me and I didn't even have to throw myself at them like you two did. I still have my pride and dignity," You spat out at them.

Their eyes widened at your outburst. It was clear that they hadn't taken into account that there was a chance that you'd retaliate like that.

"Fucking parasites," you muttered as you turned your back on them and walked off to the bathroom to calm yourself down a bit, leaving the two girls flabbergasted with people, including their so-called guy friends, laughing and snickering at them.

As you were about to enter the bathroom, you felt hands pushing you inside and bodies piling inside the bathroom. When the sound of door locking was heard, you almost panicked, thinking that this might be a public attack that you'd hear on the news.

But you were so glad when you turned around and see your boyfriends. You let out a shaky sigh, trying to calm yourself down slightly before moving to smack their arms for scaring the shit out of you.

"What the fuck do you-" your protests were cut short when Wooyoung lunged to connect his lips with yours. You let out a squeal at the impact of his body paired with the impact of the sink behind you.

San moved himself behind you, hands clutching onto the edges of your skirt tightly, bunching them up to reveal your panties to the cold air of the bathroom.

"We heard your little outburst outside," San said as his lips latched onto the side of your neck. You let out a muffled 'what?' at him. Wooyoung's lips were preventing you from speaking much as his hands began to prevent you from thinking straight. The way they had magically manoeuvred themselves into your shirt and bra made your knees weak.

"Yeah, we heard everything. Woo had to hold me back from interfering to which I'm glad he did," he groaned loudly next to your ear as his hands move, they wrapped themselves tightly around your waist, "because if he hadn't, I wouldn't have seen this side of you and it's so damn sexy," he growled. You could feel him bucking his hips onto your ass and even with his jeans, you could feel how hard he was. It was a good thing that San was holding onto you so tightly or else you would've slumped so hard onto the floor.

Without any warning, San slipped a hand into your skirt and tugged your panties down to your knees. Before even fully comprehending the situation, both San and Wooyoung hand worked on their pants, relieving their hard cocks from their confines. Their lips must've been magic because you could've sworn that you didn't realize anything until you felt them pressing themselves to your entrance.

The tip of San's cock prodded against your back hole first, as if asking for permission. You moaned at the feeling, letting go of Wooyoung's lips to throw your head back against San's shoulder. San took it as a sign from you to continue. He slowly pushed himself in. With the lack of lubricant, you felt its slight sting.

Wooyoug noticed how you winced at the feeling of San entering your ass. Though the latter tried to distract you by peppering kisses up and down the side of your neck, it proved to not be enough. So Wooyoung reconnected both of your lips as he snuck a hand down to play with your clit.

You squirmed in both of their holds. The slight foreign discomfort combined with the pleasure Wooyoung's fingers gave you elicit a rather new feeling.

It didn't take long for San to be fully nestled in you. Though it would've been wise to get used to him first, you could see how Wooyoung eyed his fingers, wanting nothing more than to slip himself in you.

Chuckling slightly, you took ahold of his working hand, "Woo, I need you in me now," you told him. He looked at you with eyes slightly wide, "You sure? Don't you wanna take a bit more time?" he asked. It was honestly adorable how concerned he was about you even in such an intimate position.

Not saying anything, you pulled him closer to you by his shirt, effectively sandwiching yourself between the two best friends.

"When it comes to any one of you, I can't wait anymore," you said, teeth tugging against his earlobe.

At that, Wooyoung exhaled shakily. You got what you wanted when he suddenly lifted your left leg up to his waist and began entering you slowly.

With one side already filled, you felt extremely full. It wasn't too much for you, but it sure does make you felt like you were about to burst.

"M-move," you told them both as your hands clenched onto Wooyoung's shirt.

They both started at a slow pace, trying to establish a rhythm to make sure that you felt as good as they were feeling. The last thing they wanted was for you to feel like something that they'd use to just merely get off.

The initial foreign feeling changed to pleasure quickly. When you felt both men fell into stable rhythms, you began moaning in pleasure. Their cocks were rubbing and prodding all the right places.

"God, I think I can feel San inside you, babe," Wooyoung groaned.

You unconsciously clenched hard at Wooyoung's words.

San took notice immediately. One of his eyebrows raised in surprise at the newfound information.

"Little slut here likes to be filled to the brim, doesn't she?" he chuckled darkly. One of his hands moved to wrap itself around on your neck. The slight pressure he put on it felt amazing when combined with the feeling both of them provided with their cocks.

Wooyoung's lips planted themselves onto your chest as he pulled your shirt lower. His teeth tugged at your skin, to which you were sure he wanted to leave marks on you.

"Can't answer us when you have two cocks in you huh, babe?" Wooyoung taunted, purposefully biting your nipple through your bra, making you gasp loudly.

Their speed increased significantly. You felt both of their hips hitting you in turns, their cocks also taking turns in filling you. When one slip out, the other slipped in. You were never left empty.

Your high was approaching quicker than anyone could expect. Between the work they did with their lips and their cocks stuffing you, you were actually surprised that you hadn't come any quicker.

"F-fuck I-I-I-" You stuttered out. You couldn't even finish your sentence as you suddenly came hard on them. Your thighs quivered and you clenched them hard to the point that they groaned at how tight you were being.

With your climax accomplished, the two became focused on chasing their own.

"F-first one to cum pays for today's gaming session," Wooyoung said, smirking to San as if he was taunting him.

Through the overstimulation, you managed to smack Wooyoung's shoulder. Albeit weakly. "A-are you- Ah! Are you seriously m-m-maki-ng bets in t-the middle of f-fucking?" you glared at him.

Your question was left unanswered as he only grinned deviilishly.

Feeling sneaky, you immediately slip your hands under his shirt to tweak at his nipples. During your times with him, you found out how his nipples became sensitive when he's about to cum and usually it wouldn't take much for him to cum when you play with his nipples.

His jaw hung open at the sudden feeling. His thrusts became sloppier. After one, two more tugs, you felt him unloading himself inside you. His hips lock in place and his cock twitched inside you. His warm load filling you, making you whine at the feeling.

San chuckled from behind you, "thanks baby," he said, pecking you softly on your cheek, making you giggle. "But now I need to cum in your pussy too,"

Before you could even prepare yourself, he had pulled out of you abruptly. He pushed Wooyoung out of your pussy so that he could bend you over the sink.

"I'm sorry baby, but I really need to cum," he said quickly before plunging himself into your pussy. You let out a yelp as your hands anchored yourself by the edges of the sink.

San drilled into you at an animalistic pace. You looked up the mirror to see San's eyes shut close, eyebrows furrowing as his hips snap harshly against your ass.

Wooyoung's cum made it easier for him to move in and out of you. He even slipped out a couple of times.

You helped him chase his high by clenching your pussy around him. Soon enough, you felt a second load painting your walls. San's cum mixing with yours and Wooyoungs's.

The mixture leaked from your hole down to your thighs and even trickled down onto the floor. Some were caught by your panties but a lot of them fell to the floor, especially when San finally pulled out of you.

The three of you stood silently in the bathroom, trying to catch your breaths after the impromptu bathroom session.

San was the first one to catch his breath. He stuffed himself back into his pants and fixed his clothes. "I'll help (Y/N) clean herself up, you go and pay so we can get out," he said as he began to pull some tissues from the dispenser.

In the midst of fixing his own clothes, Wooyoung paused as he furrowed his eyebrows at San, "Why me?" he asked. San rolled his eyes at the question, "Because you said whoever came first had to pay and you did," he said as he leaned down to wipe the dripping cum from your pussy.

Wooyoung whined at that, "Not fair! (Y/N) made me cum! That shouldn't have counted!" You giggled at his accusation, "I mean, you shouldn't have made a bet when you're having sex with your girlfriend, but..." you trailed off.

Feeling defeated, Wooyoung groaned and pout, "Fine, I'll pay. But I better get a ton of kisses in return," he grumbled as he pointed at you.

You only rolled your eyes at him whilst wiggling your hips to help San put your panties back on.

"As if I don't already give you a lot,"

taglist :

@raysanshine @peachy-maia @paralumanniluna @90s-belladonna @theclawofaraven @sanraes @sungiehan @felix-kithes @nycol-ie @superstarw99 @skkrtnawrskkrt @viv-atiny @the7thcrow @stfu-xeena @laurademaury @multihoe-net @daisyhwa @scoupshushushu @simplewonderland @verycooldog2 @perfectlysane24 @hannahdinse8 @tannie13 @aka-minhyuk-kun @phebeedee @em0yunho @marsophilia @donghyuckanti27 @se-onghwa @taejichafe @alliecoady98 @rdiamondbts2727 @hakuna-matata-ya @ohmy-fandoms @ateezminonspace @stray-bi-kids @imaaroy @fashi0nablee @rindomo @violetwinters @nabihwa @linhyyboo12 @mirror-juliet @bestboiericsohn @hwahwaseong @peachyho @yunhorights @kpop-khh-writer-trash

[sophie-i-guess13]

Bob Sheldon x Reader

I am physically incapable of writing something short I am so sorry. BUT! This is a request I got from the wonderful @ksuwoxb about a bob Sheldon x Mathews sister :) hope you enjoy!

When I was little, I had a dream of being a cheerleader. I was a rowdy thirteen-year-old the first time I saw those cheerleaders on television, with their fancy uniforms and million-dollar smiles on the field beside the Dallas Cowboys. I did as many cartwheels and somersaults I could manage on the front lawn without giving Mom a heart attack, but it was pretty obvious I’d need a lot more practice to be anything like the girls on the screen.

One summer, after Darry Curtis took a class at the college, he taught me and the rest of the boys in his gang how to do a few flips and things. I enjoyed it at the moment, but that changed when I actually got to high school and realized all the things I’d need and didn’t have. Like money for the uniform, sneakers that weren’t my big brother’s for years, and a way onto the squad after all the places had been snatched up by pretty and popular Soc girls.

“Hey, Mathews, have you heard anything I just said?”

My locker creeps open stiffly, the sound lost amid the shuffle of students around us as I slide my backpack off my shoulders. “No, Bob. If I’ve learned anything in Mr. Syme’s class, it’s how to ignore you.”

I realized pretty early on I wouldn’t be able to bother Mom for a uniform or brand new shoes – no matter how hard she worked or how tempted Keith – Two-Bit – was to steal them for me. So, I did the next best thing I could think of and studied. It was more affordable than being a cheerleader and would help me out in the long run, anyway. So far, all that studying has done is made me and Bob Sheldon compete for the highest grade in our eleventh-grade English class.

And let me tell you, for a kid who’s used to everything being handed to him on a silver platter, he hasn’t given up – even this far into the semester.

I have no choice but to look at him when he leans against my locker with enough force to send the whole row trembling. I’m not scared of him, though, I’ve never been.

He’s a little bit taller than me with brown hair, though it ain’t as dark as his eyes. He walks around town like he owns the joint, usually with more of his Soc buddies like Randy Anderson and Sherri ‘Cherry’ Valance. But, now that I come to think of it, I haven’t seen her around too much. “No one’s gonna kill you if you don’t get first place, you know.”

I’ve gotta give it to him; for such a spoiled asshole, Bob sure does a good job and acting indifferent. Mr. Syme had let us all go five minutes early at the end of class, the last period of the day so we could hurry home and start our essays on Shakespeare's “Othello”. He’d even gone as far as to say the three kids with the best essay on his use of symbolism would get it published in the paper.

Getting mentioned in the paper for an essay would mean the chance at a scholarship and proud parents.

And Bob Sheldon wanted it just as much as I did.

“Really,” he drawls again, picking at his nails as I rearrange my textbooks for the weekend, “why don’t you just take it slow this time around, go out with some friends maybe?”

I force a smile so sweet, I can already feel my teeth rotting as I look at him. He’s a rich, pompous Soc, but I hate to admit he ain’t bad to look at. “Well, ain’t that just sweet? You’re worried about me?” My fingers brush against my skirt as I talk, absent-mindedly tracing the dried ketchup stain above my right knee. “I’m sure a guy like you’s got a million different parties to attend this weekend, why don’t you just forget about the essay?”

He pushes away from the lockers, squaring his shoulders before wiping grime off his jacket. “And let you get ahead of me? Not a chance, Mathews.”

I was used to our bickering back and forth by now, but this had started to get annoying. It was nearing three o’clock on a Friday afternoon and all I wanted to do was go home. Not stand here wth my locker hanging open, and a flimsy book bag hanging off my shoulder while he stood in front of me, looking as polished as the marble statues we were learning about in history.

“Why don’t we both take the weekend off? The essay isn’t due for another week and a half, anyway.”

I liked the sound of that. Not only would I be able to take a weekend to myself stress-free, I could use that time to visit the Curtis boys with my brother while Mom was at work. They’d been taking it pretty hard since their parents died a month back, Pony and Sodapop ain’t even back in school yet. And then, I’d still be able to write up an essay brilliant enough to knock Bob back into second place.

“You were right, surprisingly,” he chuckled, “Randy’s folks are outta town and he’s throwing a bash tonight at his place. I’m on the list, so I really can’t work on that essay tonight, anyway-”

After years of being in school together, I still can barely stand this kid. All I want to do is go home, but he’s still here, yacking on and on worse than our teacher!

“-So, what do you say?”

I bring back the sickly sweet smile as my fingers curl around my locker door, aching to slam it shut. “Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

Bob tilts his chin a little higher and pops his collar, a smirk pulling at his lips as he turns on his heel and begins to walk away. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

[iguessilovebakugou]

Kill the Lights and Kiss My Eyes ||  Domestic!Bakugou x Wife!Reader [ +18 ]

I’ll be honest, I’m still so confused what HOH!* is, but...fuck, I know what domestic smut is.  I guess it’s finally time I take the fucking plunge, baby. 

Congrats Anon - this is my first smut drabble. I hope you're happy.

CW:  NSFW, Oral, Cunnilingus, Rough Kinks:  Lip biting, body worship, powerplays, Bakugou on his knees, Rougher Sex Word Count: 2.8K Pairings:  Pro!Bakugou x F!Reader

“So moving forward, I really think we should start having the clients be aware of the changes before they even get to that portion of the contract.”

“I agree.  I think that way, we’ll have ample time to inform them of the changes to how we handle their business.”

“Nng, Katsuki what the fuck?”

“Do you think we should create a contract specifically for this change?  I think that might be best, that way they can’t say they never heard about it.”

“P-Please, I...I’m in a-”

“That’s probably a good idea.  Mrs. Bakugou - what do you think?  Is that something you could do?”

He had been a terror the second he got home...and he had only been home for all of 2 minutes.  

He had been gone on some sort of mission for an entire month.  The first week was fine, the second wasn’t so bad.  The third?  The third was torture.  He would never say it, never admit it out loud, but he missed you.  It was subtle ways - to mask the fact that you were all he could think about those past two days.  Letting you know what time he would be arriving, complaining the whole ordeal was taking to long, and in the moments where he could - calling you and just letting the silence hang around you.  Getting as close to you as he humanly possibly could.

The moment you heard that door open, you knew Katsuki would be...unruly, but this was...okay, it wasn’t entirely unexpected.  

“I think her connection went down again.”

It happened a lot actually.

His nails drug down the skin of your thighs, leaving bright and angry pink marks until they his hands gripped your pelvis.  With a yelp, you were tugged further down into your office chair - which was already pretty damp with his affections.  You were left a groveling, mewling mess as he continued his attack.  The knew position gave him ample room to lavish your clit with more attention, running the tip of his tongue over and around it in circles before diving back inside you.  You tried to get a word out edge wise, but the moment his tongue slid against your walls, you were done. 

“Fuck...fuck, babe.”  A shiver shot up your spine as his tongue pushed further inside you.  It reached as far as it could go, lapping at the very core of you.  Each movement drew out the most desperate of cries.  He had only just begun and already you were quickly dissolving into a pile of rather pathetic whimpers as you curled around him.  "Please, I...I’m...”

“Mrs. Bakugou, can you hear us?”

If you didn’t respond, they would grow suspicious.  You could get in trouble, you would have to try and explain why your connection only every had a problem on the days your husband got home.  You reached, desperately for the spacebar on your desktop, trying to let them know you were in fact still there.  

But Katsuki’s hand shot out, quickly abandoning your thigh and snatching your wrist.  He didn’t pull away from you, refusing to slide his tongue out from inside you.  You looked down at him, through lidded eyes.  Another moan, fingers gripping the arms of your work chair when you felt the growl in his throat, felt the words he was trying to say against your lips.  They sent shockwaves up to the top of your skull and curling your toes.  You looked down at him through lidded eyes, desperate for some semblance of reprieve.

Don’t answer it.

“...ah.”

Fuck Katsuki Bakugou.  Fuck the fact he knew just how to touch you, to melt your will just enough to mold you into whatever shape he desired.  If he wanted to touch you, wanted to drive you over the edge at this very moment, who were you to deny him that?  Without another moment’s hesitation, you reached over your chair and grabbed the cord connecting your computer to the outlet.  With a grunt, you yanked, tugging the plug out of the wall and sending it scattering to the wooden floor with a Thud!

The voices from your meeting stopped and the screen behind you went dark.  The only thing keeping your office lit was the sun, which was already starting to nestle behind the trees of your backyard.  Katsuki paused, only a moment to watch what you were doing.  His expression, while cautious, seemed...surprised.  His eyes glowed in the light, his panting now more pronounced that the voices of your superiors weren’t droning on above it.  

You swallowed, harshly.  Your mouth was dry and your tongue felt like cotton.  It was still hard to breathe, still hard to think - no hope for any sort of long winded sentences.  But he had stopped, watching you now, and waiting - for you.  He had been so terribly awful, but you could see the patience nestled in his face.  He wasn’t going to make a move until you spoke.  

Your voice was low, deep in your chest as your fingers found their way into his wild, blond hair.

“If you’re gonna fuck me - then fuck me. ”

It wasn’t a just an invitation - it was something that he loved almost as much as you:  a challenge.  His eyes turned more wild and with another guttural noise, his lips curled up into a smile.  

“You’re gonna regret asking.”

If you had any doubt left in your mind that he was telling the truth, it was swiftly quelled.  Katsuki shut his eyes and pushed back against you.  Your chair - propelled by the sheer force of him - went crashing back against the wall.  The action yanked a gasp from you as his tongue was forced further inside you, reaching a new depth you hadn’t expected.  And then it was gone.  Still, his mouth refused to leave you, his lips now wrapped around your clit.  You felt empty, only for a moment - until two of his calloused fingers slide in deep and curled, rubbing your warmth quick and tight.  

You cried out, wrapping your legs around his shoulders to draw him closer.  To keep him right where the two of you wanted him to be.  No longer inhibited by some meetings about contracts that didn’t matter, you let your cries be heard.  You threw your head back against the window, resting it there while and moaned to your hearts content.  Your neighbors would hear surely, but let them.  It shouldn’t be a secret that your husband knew how to unravel you, that the man you loved had memorized every tiny spot that turned you into a puddle at his touch. 

Katsuki’s eyes never left your face.  You could feel him watching you.  And when his fingers curled up further, tugging at your core - fireworks erupted.  It wasn’t enough to send you over the edge, not just yet, but it was enough to draw your back up straight.  Your fingers tightened around his hair, your legs wrapped tighter around him.  “Keep...that...again...please.”

You could feel him chuckle against you.  The whine came from you, even before he drew his fingers back.  His tongue was drawn over the top of you.  In another breath, his lips wrapped around your clit.  And he started there again.

In moments like this, Katsuki never played fair.  You were certain half of what he did was to torture you, while the other half was because he liked watching you squirm and wiggle under his touch.  He would never say it out loud but you knew he adored seeing you like this, knowing full well no one else in the world got to see you such a begging, needy mess.  It was his little secret to keep.  And he was so very good at keeping secrets.

He deserved to be rewarded for it.

He didn’t expect you to reach out.  He didn’t expect your fingers to trail under his jaw bone, to pull him up and away from you.  For a moment, he snarled, not wanting to budge from his position.  But then he felt the urgency and, albeit begrudgingly, he lifted his head.  His eyebrow was cocked, his eyes narrowed and his glistening lips curled into a sneer.  “What?”

You gripped him by the fabric of his shirt, tugging forward and up to meet you.  The steadfast resolution to bring you to climax quickly faded as you pressed your lips to his.  A chaste kiss at first, soft and sweet.  One more, drawing him into you...

Your teeth found his bottom lip, gripping it and tugging it back, nipping hard enough to break the skin and draw a drop of blood against your tongue.  You smirked at the sharp intake of his breath, the way his body tensed at the action.  For as much as he knew how to unravel you, you equally knew the little notions that could ruin him.  The right places to touch him to make his knees buckle, to make him chase you for more.  And - like clockwork - the moment your fingers slid down his abdomen to run over the rise of him, Katsuki’s entire being shivered, his body leaned into your touch.  

You had been with him long enough to know when the façade was crumbling to the ground.  You could feel him twitch under you touch, feel the pulse of his desire.  His hands against your thighs gripped you just a bit tighter, his skin grew a bit hotter, his kiss was just a bit deeper.  

The groan you had elicited from Katsuki’s chest was intoxicating.  You could feel the rumble underneath your skin, crawling up your veins and fogging your thoughts.  The existence of you was his drug, just as he was to you. 

You took advantage of his parted lips, sliding your tongue against his.  He reciprocated in his own way, immediately fighting for dominance.  The chair slammed back against the wall, but this time you were prepared and so was he.  You slipped effortlessly out of your chair and into his lap.  His hands, calloused and rough, gripped your ass to pull you tight against him.  He grinded up against you in abandon, grunting softly against your lips.  His hands on your ass squeezed, making sure to hold you taut against him as he desperately rutted against you.  

The waiting was turning into madness - and judging by how quickly his hand reached for the hem of his pants - he readily agreed.  It was difficult for him, fumbling with the buckle and edging the fabric down over his hips.  You almost laughed, and would have if his mouth hadn’t captured yours before anything more than a gasp could escape.  

And then you felt it: the head of him, dripping with want, press against your entrance.  One final time, you felt his eyes on you.  Behind his grunting and growling, behind his shaking fingers, he was asking.  Making sure this was okay.  If you were alright with this.  

In response, you pressed down against him.  “Please,” You begged, just a whisper in his ear.  You felt him quake beneath you.  “Fuck me, Katsuki.”

He drove up into you and the force of his weight inside of you - although familiar - always drew a cry.  Katsuki paused, only for a moment, each breath he took shaking.  In that moment, there was nothing but the weight of him inside you - every glorious inch of him.  The world was empty - save for the two of you in that office.  You opened your eyes, taking him in.  The wild blonde hair, the rough skin dotted with sweat, the way his shoulders rose and fell as he tried to contain himself.  As he tried to keep himself steady and not rut into you like an animal.

He wanted to make sure this lasted as long as possible.  There was no telling when he would be dragged away from you again. 

Your fingers ran through his hair, gently holding it to tug his face out from where it was buried in the nape of your neck.  Gently, you peppered kisses over his face - across his forehead, over his eyes, on the tip of his nose.  There was a moment his hips bucked, to try and reestablish who was in control...but it faltered quickly.  He soaked in every ounce of affection, relished every gentle touch you bestowed upon him. 

His voice, so quiet and ragged when he finally spoke, was not a surprise.

“I’m going to ruin you.”

You huffed, your lips against his temple, dragging against his skin.  “Then ruin me.”

He was up in a flash.  A moment later, your back was against the desk as his mouth resumed its assault on yours.  It was smart - seeing as you cried out in absolute ecstasy when he began to pound into you.  

As promised - Katsuki was most certainly trying to ruin you.  Your hands scrambled, your fingers wrapped around his arms, gripping him as he began to pound into you.  There was no hesitation - each thrust was deliberate, their soul purpose to drag each and every lewd noise from you that they could.  And they did.  While he refused to pull his mouth from yours, that didn’t stop you from moaning, gasping and mewling every time his cock buried itself inside you.

The sound of his hips hitting your ass with such force was almost enough to drown out the sound of the desk skirting across the floor.  You paid no mind as the pictures lining it’s edge went clattering to the floor and shattering upon impact.  You paid no mind as your phone - buzzing away on the other side - sliding off the desk as well.  You tried to keep your mind straight, to try and stay grounded.  But you couldn’t - Katsuki was too much.

His thrusts grew faster, less timed, erratic as he drew closer and closer to his breaking point.  You finally opened your eyes, looking up to see him staring down at you.  The smirk on his face was a perfect blend of frustrating and heart pounding.  You greeted it with your own smile.  “F-...fuck, babe...”

“Beg for it.”

You grunted when his hands joined in, slamming you down against his thrusts.  You gritted your teeth, swearing again.  “Fuck, fuck, fuck...” You gasped when he did it again...and again...and again.  

“Beg. For. It.”

Each word was accentuated with a thrust.  Each thrust was accentuated with a cry of pleasure.  God he knew he was going to get his way.  He knew that no matter what, you wanted the same thing as he did.  He was just going to torture you until he heard you admit it out loud.  

Just for him.  Only for him.

“I...I want you to...Fuck, Katsuki!”

“What do you- ah...”  His hips refused to slow as he let out a grunt.  He lowered his body down, pressing his chest against yours and trapping you between him and the desk.  His lips found their way to your ear, his voice low - barely above a growl.  “What do you want me to do?”

He knew what you wanted him to do.  “I...I want you to...”

Your arms wrapped around his neck, your face burying itself against his shoulder.  Your mind was staring to go blank as you dissolved into a mess of curses and moans.  But he wasn’t going to stop until you answered him.

“Cum...I want you to...cum...”  

“Where?”

“Fucking damn it, Katsuki!”

“Where?”

The heat inside you was unbearable now.  The pleasure was forcing all logical thought out the window.

“I...just...”

You weren’t going to last much longer at this rate.

“please...”

And judging by the absolute bliss in his eye, he wasn’t going to hold out much longer either.  

“I-Inside!  Cum inside me!!”

You allowed the pleasure to crash over you - the pent up frustration from Katsuki being gone for so long, the undeniable desire for him to touch you, to fuck you, to love you like only he could.  With a final cry of his name and the arch of your back, it all went white.  

You felt his arms wrap around you, pulling you close as he rode you through it.  You’re still gasping for breath, the fog he lost you in starting to clear, when you realize his teeth are against you neck, muffling the .  You can feel him erupting inside of you, grunting as he fills you.  

The two of you are panting, sweating messes; your office is in an even worse state.  You’re a tangled mess of limbs, of gentle touches and dragging nails and...

“Fuck...”  He breathes, letting out another breath.  He doesn’t speak again until he’s lifted you up off the desk, weakly lowering the both of you down onto the floor.  You kiss him once more before he slips out of you, which he happily reciprocates.  He pulls back, looking down at you, his crimson eyes flashing.

“I fucking missed you.”

So...first smut....I hope you liked it - cause like...fuck bro...

I drank tea and burned through 3 different candles trying to write this and I’m still not like...super okay with it.

Send me more smut asks - I need to get used to writing it. 

[marsbutterfly]

Hey ! How are you ? Can I request an imagine for Hanji x f!reader where they both get reincarnated in modern time ? They both died side by side during the rubbling and when they get reincarnated they both have memories of their past life (they were already lovers). Reader thought she was never going to see her girlfriend again but one day she finds her by chance.

Take care and have a nice day !

Note: Thank you so much for requesting this. I had fun writing it and the prompt was *chefs kiss* so I really hope you like it.

In Another Life

Summary: Reincarnation is the doctrine or belief that the soul reappears after death in another and different bodily form.

                               Wattpad Version! | AO3 Version!                                                      |◁ II ▷|

Cold sweat drips down your face as you bolt awake, digging your nails into the bedsheets. The same nightmare has been waking you up in the middle of the night since you were a child.

In your dream, you are a soldier who battles to save humanity in the fight against titans. Somehow, you always manage to kill the gigantic beings and return safely to the world inside the walls.

Always by your side is a brown-haired woman with glasses, her left eye is missing in most of the dreams. In all honesty, you have never seen anyone so beautiful before and, somehow, you remember her name.

Hanji Zoe.

One day, you stood by her side as the world you’ve once known was being left behind, turned into dust. She held your face in her hands as tears streamed down her cheeks, the feeling of her lips against yours is vivid and you can even smell the apple she had earlier.

The scream of your comrades echoes through the plane and into your brain but all you can focus on is the image of Hanji’s body catching on fire as the same flames burn down your back.

She hits the ground seconds before you do and somehow you manage to land by her side, hand touching hand as her lifeless body begins to cool down. You don’t have much time to think before a titan’s massive foot squishes your bodies at the exact same time.

That’s usually when you wake up, when your lungs and heart explode inside your chest due to the pressure of the step. When every blood vessel in your body gives in to the pressure and bursts inside you.

You grab your phone, only to realize your alarm was about to go off anyway. So instead of trying to go back to sleep, you simply push the covers aside and begin to drag yourself to the bathroom in hopes of getting your day started.

Not every dream you have is a nightmare. Some of them are about a life you don’t remember living: The combination of joy and fear after joining the Survey Corps, the warmth of Hanji’s naked body against yours, the delicious smell of freshly made apple pie coming from the kitchen in the middle of the night.

At nights where you don’t dream about that life, you miss it. You miss being around your friends, being able to move around the trees as if you were flying, you miss her. Her deep, brown eyes are all you can think about and time slips away from you.

Once your morning routine is completed, you decide to go for a run in the park behind your house. Since the sun has been out for less than an hour, it shouldn’t be too busy and you’ll be able to enjoy some quiet time.

As the armband slides up your skin, a chilling sensation travels down your spine and nearly every particle of hair in your body rises, even though you can’t understand why. So you simply shake your head and push the feeling down.

Carefully, you select your favorite playlist and check to make sure your laces are tied but before you can actually look, your phone rings loudly in your ear nearly giving you a heart attack.

Without a second thought, you decline the call without even checking to see who it is and you make your way outside.

The cold breeze welcomes you and the sweet smell of the food cart in front of your house hits your nose. Usually after a run, you reward yourself with one of their delicious crepes and that is enough motivation for you to finish your jog.

At this time, the park is the most peaceful place in the city. No crying babies in their strollers or loud business men walking around on their phone, there is only you and maybe three more people.

Your favorite song comes on and you feel the energy pumping through your veins with every beat. It’s the perfect weather for a run and you silently enjoy the calm that washes over your body.

Your mind wanders back to your nightmares and you start to remember the better part of it. The times Hanji would take you to a secret picnic after she became commander or the makeout sessions in the janitors closet.

In some ways, you could even feel her warm skin against yours, her kiss-swollen lips attached to you by a string of saliva. It nearly feels as if you had lived throughout all of it, but it couldn’t be possible.

You’re so deep into your thoughts that you don’t notice the stick on the floor and, when you do, it’s too late and you’re already halfway towards the ground so all you can do is protect your face from the concrete.

The impact itself isn’t too painful but the humiliation is what stings the most. If only you hadn’t gotten that call before leaving your house, you would’ve remembered to tie your shoelaces and therefore they wouldn’t have gotten stuck on the stick on the floor.

This isn’t the first time the woman in your dreams has caused you trouble. In a few of your memories, she would make too much noise when you sneak out and the Commander would eventually catch you.

Ever since you were young and these dreams first started, you’ve been going to a therapist after the other in hopes of understanding what all of this means and why is it happening to you but all came to the same result: inconclusive.

No matter how many doctors you see, no one can understand why you have such vivid dreams about a war nobody has ever heard anything about or creatures that have never once been proven to exist.

With your ass on the ground, you notice you used the word “memories” instead of dreams and for a second you feel as if all air has been sucked out of your lungs by a massive vacuum.

You shake your head, pushing those feelings deep down inside of you and getting on your knee, preparing to tie your laces when a familiar perfume rushes by you.

It’s faint and quick, probably carried by the wind but enough for you to snap your head backwards. A comforting feeling settles in your chest, warm and fuzzy if you could describe it. That’s exactly how the woman from your dreams smelled like.

You notice a brunette in a bright yellow sports bra turning around a bush not too far away, but you can’t see if she’s wearing glasses or if she only has one eye, like Hanji did.

“Y/N don’t be ridiculous!” You say to yourself, standing up and brushing away the dirt from your clothes, “Hanji is not a real person, she’s like an imaginary friend.”

Forgetting all about your fall, you decide to resume your run. The pain in your foot forces you to go a bit slower than you are used to but nothing too serious.

Once you are done running your laps around the park and begin to make your way back home, a few drops of rain begin to fall on your skin, forcing you to rush home.

As you are eagerly awaiting for the crepe you’ve been dreaming about for hours, the owner of the small cart has a sad expression on his face.

“I’m fresh out of batter. My husband just went to grab some more, it should take a little longer than 45 minutes, I am so sorry Y/N.” He says and you sigh, a compassionate smile on your lips and you nod.

“You will save me the first one you make when he’s back right?” You ask and the man eagerly nods.

“Of course. With banana, strawberry and chocolate, right?”

And you laugh, knowing that the only reason why he knows your order so well is because his crepes have been your breakfast each morning since you first moved into this apartment.

Once you are done with the conversation, you rush up the stairs and immediately into the shower. With a washcloth you gently brush the dirt out of your bruised knee, quietly hissing as the burning sensation takes over.

Even though you know you aren’t supposed to do so, you pour hydrogen peroxide on top of the wound and a scream leaves your throat at every step of the way.

“Today really isn’t my day.” You say to yourself as you begin to wash your hair. A few specs of dirt fall to the ground and a prolonged sigh escapes your lips. Everything just seems to be going wrong: rain, no crepe, fell during a run, what’s next? Waiting in line at the coffee shop for over an hour?

As you stand in line, you realize you should have kept your mouth shut. Even though you ordered online, the amount of people surrounding the pick up area was beyond ridiculous and you were definitely getting late for work.

Once your turn finally comes, you thank silently in hopes that you will be able to actually make it in time. So with your chest out and happiness on your face, you loudly say over the many other voices, “Order for Y/N!”

The guy behind the counter looks confused as he checks every cup individually and you watch over him as he does so. He shoots you a sadden and a little annoyed look and you realize that the “Order” button never got pushed.

Your eyes fill with tears of frustration but you brush them away and take your phone out, repeating your online order to the barista on the register and they write it down perfectly.

Your eyes are glued to your phone’s screen while you wait for a message from your boss but the same comforting sensation you felt this morning is back again. Maybe it’s the smell of coffee that reminded you of the trips to Marley or the crowds of different people around, much like eldians and marleyans.

“I have to get this shit out of my brain.” You say, shaking your head and focusing on typing out a message to your friend, complaining and hoping that you won’t get fired today. You worked too hard to get this job and if they let you go over some 20 minute wait, you’ll raise hell on Earth.

“Order for Y/N?” A familiar voice says but you can’t identify from where.

So you walk to the counter, finally putting your phone away and counting the coffees. Your eyes land on the barista’s hand, who carries your regular order. You reach for it and in a split of a second, your hands touch.

The world around you seems to stop and so does your breathing. When you look at her, you realize she is the part of you that has been missing all along. She’s a real person and not a dream. You look at her nametag, just making sure you aren’t going insane and there it is. “Hanji Zoe”

In that minimal touch, you are bombarded by the emotions of a lifetime ago. The first day you met, the first titan experiment you had done together, the first kiss, the first time you’ve had to kill a titan because she would always get too damn close to being eaten alive.

But you are also reminded of the last meal you both ate, the last nose rub, the last time her lips touched yours, the last hand holding, the last breath you both took before you woke up where you are now.

And just like that, feelings you didn’t know were possible for you to have emerged from deep within your chest as if a box that has been sitting deep inside the closet has now just been opened. It even seems like the world has just gotten a bit more colorful.

Tears shine in your eyes as the coffee you just waited so long for hits the ground. With a smile on your face, you wrap your arms around her neck and pull her over the counter. It doesn’t take her more than a second to seal your lips together.

Her breath tastes like the hot chocolate she had earlier that day but it still manages to awaken butterflies that laid dormant in your stomach throughout your entire life. It’s not until your phone rings in your pocket that you are brought back to reality.

“I’m so late for work!” You smile at her and rush out of the store, the container with the other cups in your left hand.

“Wait!!” A voice screams from just outside the coffee shop and you immediately turn around to see Hanji, her hat in her hand as she comes closer to you. “I knew something was missing my entire life and….”

“And now I realize it was you.” You two say in perfect unison and she nods.

“Why don’t we start over? This time, without any titans around.” She asks and you smile.

“Hey, I’m Y/N.” You say, extending your hand.

“I’m Hanji Zoe and I would love to take you on a date sometime.” Hanji meets you in the middle, shaking your hand.

“I really have to go.” You say and a frown appears on her face, you have to fight the will to quit your job and start a nice, little life in the woods with her. Something you’ve always talked about but sadly never got to have.

“I’ll wait for you right here then.” She says, letting go of your hand slowly and you immediately touch the back of her head and bring her in for a long kiss while still managing to keep the cups in your hand still.

This time it was not a goodbye kiss. It was simply the second first kiss you’ve ever had with Hanji and hopefully, it will not be the last.

[heroesriseandfall]

Bernard reacts to the events of Batman #125.

Summary:

Bernard came across the news video purely by accident: Tim Drake-Wayne Shot at Flugelheim Gala.

His worst nightmare had come true for the second time. All he had was Stephanie Brown’s phone number and numb panic.

Relationships: Bernard Dowd/Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown & Bernard Dowd, Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake

Characters: Bernard Dowd, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Dick Grayson (mentioned)

CW: gunshot wounds (the effects are described but the wound is not shown), mentions of a school shooting, hospital settings, minor self-harm (no blood, after effects from the pain cult in Sum of Our Parts).

—0—

Logically, Bernard knew Tim had been shot before. At least, he remembered seeing it on the news, what felt like ages ago, back before he and Tim reunited.

But he didn’t really think about it. Or maybe he just tried not to, a little scared of entertaining the thought for too long. He was sorely regretting that now. He should’ve thought about it. He should’ve looked into it. Figured out some sort of plan.

That’s what he was realizing, far too late, when it was already happening again. A news video, stuttering on Bernard’s old laptop, was saying Tim got shot.

“...Flugelheim Gala tonight, an attack purportedly orchestrated by the Penguin. Drake-Wayne was taken to the emergency room by his father, but there have been no updates on his condition…”

The call tone on Bernard’s phone dully continued its ring, as it had since Bernard had called Tim’s number in a panic. Tim’s face grinned up at him from the screen even as the call went to voicemail.

“Please don’t be real, please don’t be real.” Bernard felt his breath stutter with every word, but Tim still wasn’t answering his phone.

Bernard didn’t bother leaving a voicemail. He called again. No answer again. Bernard didn’t realize how hard he was pulling on his hoodie string until he noticed his finger going pink from it. His body felt far away as he exited Tim’s contact to find another.

The calling tone came again, nearly drowned out by Bernard’s carefully controlled breathing. Usually she was good about answering. At least, she had been the few times they’d called each other since Tim had introduced them. Please let her answer.

“Hey, what’s up?” came Steph’s voice. Nonchalant. Distracted. Light, not distressed enough to be worrying about…

Bernard let out a breath so fast the world swam around him, and he paused the news YouTube video as he realized it was still playing.

“Have–have you seen the news, Steph?” Bernard’s voice came out high.

“Uh…no. Should I have?” Steph said.

Bernard scooted back on his bed and pressed himself against his pillows and the wall, curling up as he did. “You–it’s on the news. Have–have you seen Tim?”

Please say yes. Please say he’s right next to you and he’s fine and the news is wrong, it was just a nightmare, he’s okay.

“No. I think he’s with Bruce. What’s wrong?”

Bernard went limp, his head banging against the wall behind him. No, he’s not with Bruce. If he was with Bruce, that means he was at the gala, and then he was at the—

“Bernard? Are you okay?”

His hand felt numb, but it was still holding his phone to his ear. “I need to get to the hospital.”

“What? What happened, are you–” She sounded alarmed.

Oh, right. She thought he meant he needed to go for himself.

“I’m not hurt, I’m—” He clenched his free hand tight enough for his nails to press into his palm. “Steph— the news.”

A pause, then rattling on the other line. Faint tapping. Bernard could hardly breathe, distantly realizing he should just be able to find his keys and drive himself to the hospital on his own. But he couldn’t move. He was stuck here. Like he’d been stuck before, standing to the side in the nurse’s office while Darla—

“Oh, God. Tim,” Steph said.

Bernard pressed his legs up tighter and glanced over to his laptop screen, where the video was still paused, with a photo of the extravagant building where the gala had been held. A building that couldn’t be much farther from a public high school, yet it had fallen to the same violence.

“Bernard, I’m—I’ll keep this call up, I just have to talk to some people right now, I’ll find out if we can—I’ll find out what’s going on.”

The thought of Steph leaving made Bernard’s stomach jolt, but true to her word the call didn’t end, just went quiet. With trembling fingers, Bernard switched it to speaker mode and reached out to slowly pull his laptop closer. His mind was buzzing. He didn’t want to know, but he had to know, and Steph might not be able to learn anything.

Bernard opened a new tab and typed in the gala’s name, stumbling on the spelling but still managing to get the right results. Maybe reading a news article would be better than hearing everything out loud.

Despite the anxiety rolling through him, Bernard’s brain manages to focus on the articles enough to gather a bit more information:

1) Penguin and Clayface had done this, according to witness accounts.

2) Batman and Robin had been there, and they’d purportedly saved everyone in the building from being gassed , but they hadn’t been able to prevent some injuries.

3) Tim. Tim was one of the injured.

4) Robin was another.

By the time he’d read through four articles, Steph was back.

“Alright, I—I got more info on Tim. He’s at Gotham General. Cass and I are driving over there, but we’ll probably have to wait a while to see him. Do you need a ride?”

Bernard closed his eyes, tugging at his hoodie string again. He glanced at his wall, where he had taped a bunch of photos of Tim next to his newspaper clippings of the Robins and his notes. “I—I have a car.”

A pause. “No offense, but I don’t think you should be driving right now. Plus, it’ll save on gas if we just pick you up. Do you want to go to Tim?”

She sounded so calm now. No wonder Tim had fallen for her. “Yes,” he croaked.

“Okay. Grab some stuff to distract you in the waiting room. See you in ten.”

His phone beeped as the call ended, and Bernard lowered it to his bed, then managed to pull himself off his crumpled covers and robotically stuff some items in his bag, pull on his shoes, and sit down against the wall by the door, staring at the floor.

A knock pulled him out of his thoughts, and when he opened the door for Steph, she gave him a strained smile and wrapped an arm around his shoulder warmly as she tugged him toward the car.

Steph sat with him in the back. Time felt muddled. One moment, they were putting on seat belts, the next they were out of the neighborhood, with bright lights reflecting off the window. He was pretty sure Cass was driving. The lights in the window were really bright, red and blue and—like the cop car lights when Bernard had walked out of that wretched school.

They made it to the hospital. The waiting room was packed, or at least it felt like it. Like everyone was pressing in on him. Steph directed them to the right area, and this time Cassie, one of Tim’s favorite siblings by his own admission, was the one to sit down next to Bernard while Steph went off to talk to—someone.

Bernard concentrated on his breathing, even in and out.

“Touch?”

His head jerked toward Cass, who looked at him with a slight quirk of her eyebrows indicating her worry. “What?” Bernard said breathlessly.

“Can I touch you?” she said.

“Uh—” Bernard blinked at her, then remembered the photos of her Tim had on his phone, where she was often leaning on his shoulder or hugging or even kissing her family members on the cheek, in a few prized photos Tim always smiled over. Cass liked touch. She was good at it. “Sure. That’s—okay?”

Slowly, as if giving him a chance to back out, Cass wrapped an arm around Bernard’s back and leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder. She felt warm, or maybe it was just that Bernard was cold, and her touch was firm and reassuring. After a few seconds, Bernard sagged into the hold, his fists unclenching.

“He’ll be okay,” Cass said, voice quiet and vibrating through Bernard’s chest. “Tim’s…stubborn.”

Bernard bit his lip, trying to make himself believe in her words. But Darla was stubborn too. And they didn’t know how bad it was. Even if Tim was okay right now (which they didn’t know, none of the articles had known anything, he could’ve died right after he got to the hospital for all they knew), he might not be later. Darla had been in the nurse’s office. Bernard had been there. Waiting. Waiting. She’d survived. Until she didn’t.

Cassie’s hand touching his own brought him back to the present. She pried his fingers apart where he’d been gripping his sweats hard enough to hurt. He had to watch that. He’d been trying to, trying to stop hurting himself. To shake off the destructive habits the cult had taught him. He’d been trying to get better, and he had been. Getting better, that is.

But. Tim got shot.

Steph sat down in the seat across from them. She didn’t have any news—he could see it in the anxious line of her face.

Bernard wasn’t entirely sure how long they waited. At one point, Dick, the oldest brother, came bustling over and got more information on Tim’s condition. He was alive, they’d managed to control the bleeding. He was getting an infusion because it was an arterial bleed and he’d lost a lot very quickly. But he was doing pretty well so far and Dick and Cass got to go visit him for a bit before coming back.

Bernard felt numb at the news. He tried to remember that Darla had never even made it to the hospital, and that was part of why she’d died. She’d been stuck in that damn school with only basic medical care for too long. But Tim was already here and had been for a while now, so his chances were higher.

Mom called him once, but he didn’t answer, and she didn’t call again. He wondered if his parents even knew where he was. They probably didn’t.

-0-

The chair by Tim’s hospital bed creaked with every movement Bernard made, but the beeping of monitors drowned out every other sound. The lighting was dimmed, but Tim almost seemed to glow with how pale he was. Somehow even with all the blood they’d given him, he still looked like he didn’t have any.

Cass was somewhere in the room, having curled up on the floor for a nap. Bernard had made a half hearted comment about that sounding uncomfortable but Cassie had just smirked and quirked an eyebrow before laying down. Apparently sleeping on the floor didn’t bother her. Bernard needed to reassess those news articles he’d read once that’d posed hypotheses about Cass Wayne’s life before she was adopted out of nowhere.

That was a while ago. She must’ve fallen asleep by now. The room felt too quiet.

Tim’s fingers tightened in Bernard’s hand, and Bernard’s eyes flicked back to Tim’s face. Tim’s eyes fluttered open, eyebrows wrinkling drowsily at the ceiling.

“Tim? You awake?” Bernard said in a low voice.

Tim’s eyes settled on him, and his jaw worked as if he was going to speak.

“Don’t,” Bernard snapped, then swallowed and softened his voice. “Your throat needs to heal. Just, um, nod.”

Tim narrowed his eyes, but relaxed his jaw. He gestured around the room with a tired movement.

“You’re in the hospital. Bruce brought you here.”

Tim’s eyes widened and one hand flew to his face, feeling the skin under his eyes. Bernard quirked an eyebrow, worry gnawing at his stomach. “Tim? You okay?”

A nod and strained smile, then a frown. Tim pointed at Bernard.

“Me?”

Another nod.

“Am I okay?”

Tim nodded again, and Bernard’s instant thought was, Don’t ask that while you’re in a hospital bed, you thoughtful jerk.

“I—” Bernard’s voice faltered, and he looked away a moment, but before long his eyes were drawn back to Tim’s, which glimmered with concern despite the meds he was on and the fact that he’d been shot only two nights ago. “I just—”

His limbs stuttering with hesitation, Bernard leaned forward and slowly reached his hand toward Tim’s cheek, watching Tim’s eyes for any protest yet finding only trust.

He cupped Tim’s cheek and felt his own lips quiver. “I just thought…like…I was scared. I’m just glad you’re okay, but I…”

Tim raised his own hand to rest on top of Bernard’s. “Bernard…” he murmured, voice hoarse and weak.

Bernard shook his head, and took a deep breath. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay. Cass said so, and I believe everything she says.” He was being half truthful. He couldn’t imagine she would lie, but his mind kept betraying him.

Tim seemed like he wanted to say more, but he just said, “Cassie?”

Cass popped her head up next to the bed, making Bernard jerk in his seat a bit. Had she been awake the whole time? She flopped her arms and chin onto the side of the bed and touched Tim’s arm, mouth quirked in a soft smile. “Hey.”

Tim’s mouth quirked in an almost identical way. “You—” His voice gave out before he could finish and he winced.

Cassie flicked his arm gently. “Don’t. Just use ASL.”

Tim glanced over at Bernard, as if hesitant to use ASL when Bernard didn’t know any, but Bernard just shrugged. Tim moved his hand off Bernard’s to sign something to Cass, his hands a little shaky.

“Bruce is fine,” Cass said aloud. She signed something else back to Tim, then aloud she added, “No one else was hurt so bad. Have to stay here for…hmm, a while. Doctor’s orders.”

Tim scrunched up his face unhappily, and Bernard swallowed, running his hands through Tim’s hair like he had on their last date, this time trying not to imagine how much blood they’d had to wash out of his hair…

“Too bad,” Cass said to Tim, responding to whatever he’d just signed. “Um, I told the doctors you know ASL, they said there’s an… interpreter?” Bernard glanced at her and nodded, and she continued, “You can use that to talk before you can do it without pain. I can’t do the…interpreting.”

Tim signed something else, and this time Bernard recognized it faintly as fingerspelling.

“Steph was here earlier. She’s coming back later, and so is Dick. Have to wake up again for that, Tim.” She ruffled Tim’s hair, grinning as she displaced the strands Bernard had straightened.

Bernard took a deep breath, and found that some of the tension had gone out of his shoulders. Seeing Tim’s eyes opened helped. It…it made it different, from seeing Darla. When she’d been shot, she hadn’t opened her eyes again after she’d first gone unconscious. And that time when Bernard was kidnapped by the Chaos Monster, and he’d been pulled away from Tim unconscious on the floor…that time, Tim hadn’t opened his eyes either. But now he’d already woken up, even if his eyes were already drooping again.

Bernard let himself smile and cupped Tim’s cheek again before leaning in to give a kiss to Tim’s forehead. When he leaned back, Tim was blushing and Bernard couldn’t help but grin, and Cass laughed.

“Rest up, Tim,” Bernard said. “You have to sleep so I can plan our next date without you sneaking spoilers. It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

Tim huffed a bit, smiling, but he just grabbed Cass’s hand in one of his own, and let his eyes fall closed while Bernard combed his hair with his fingers.

He’d be okay. And Bernard…well, if Tim was okay now, then Bernard could sort himself out later. For the moment, forehead kisses would be enough.