#and little guys run rampant in my brain like a plague

[gallickingun]

welded hearts || b.k.

SUMMARY: You and Bakugou have to try and pick up the pieces after the incident with Awase, but neither of you are doing a very good job. It leads to distance and lies, and you’re not sure if there’s any way to save the fragments that remain of your shattered relationship. Especially when you find out that Bakugou has been tracking your every move.

Follows the events of Ensnare, an Awase x Reader x Bakugou fic written by @lady-bakuhoe​.

PAIRING: Pro Hero!Bakugou x Fem!Reader RATINGS: M/E+ WARNINGS: language, smut, slight violence, etc. WORD COUNT: 11.7k+

LINKS: ao3 | masterlist | mobile | writing tag

AUTHOR’S NOTE: after reading Jo’s fic, I immediately rushed to her inbox to foam at the mouth about what kind of angst would follow when Bakugou and Reader attempt to put back together what is left of their relationship, with Bakugou really not feeling like a man, and reader feeling absolutely suffocated, and this little fic was born. Also, this is my first time not tagging any blogs, I just need to start fresh. I hope everyone understands!

if you like this, feel free to request more HERE!

　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　

The strange combination of distance and suffocation make your head spin.

Nightmares plague your mind at night, leaving the opportunity for visions to run rampant through your sleep-deprived brain during the day. You spend the daylight hours looking over your shoulder, your forehead broken out into a constant sweat, and you spend the evenings wondering if you might have imagined the whole thing.

You wake up alone most of the time, no matter what phase of the night you are suffering through. The first few times you would go searching the house for him, wondering where his overactive body could have taken him this time. Most nights you found him at the kitchen table going over suit designs and contracts for more hero patrols and brand deals.

You’d ask him when he was coming back to bed only for those familiar vermilion eyes to pass you a blank stare and his dry voice to echo out, “Don’t worry about me. Go back to bed.”

And each night you’d listen.

You curl up beneath the covers, tugging the fabric to your chin, and stare at the wall. You attempt breathing exercises and grounding techniques, but that does not stop the shadowy figures you see in the hallway or the closet. Your imagination gets the better of you as it hallucinates the image of the culprit himself stood in your bathroom doorway, a smirk on his lips and a glint in his eyes.

“So fucking pretty,” his mouth snarls around the words, dark hair shining despite the dark. His teeth are pearlescent even in the dim moonlight filtering through your window, “Whose going to stop me? You?”

A shudder shakes your shoulders and when you blink, he’s gone, like a phantom escaped in the night. You rip your hands through your hair and tears drip down from your lids into your lap, staining the fabric of your pajama pants. Your hands shake in front of you, fingertips showing double the harder you try to concentrate.

His presence is akin to smoke billowing within your belly. The tendrils of his black cloud wrap around your spine, traveling up your torso until it sits in the base of your throat, suffocating you endlessly. Every day you spend breathing is another day fighting for relief from this monstrous thing in your chest.

Bakugou turns to much different means of coping.

At first it was sweet – him checking in on you. He would offer to come pick you up from work if you’d ever decided to leave anytime after seven, and if he was stuck on patrol or in meetings, he’d arrange a car to bring you home. When you go on your afternoon runs, he’d volunteer to go with you even though he’d done rigorous amounts of training at work.

The simplest ways he would show his sense of pride in protecting you would be to hover closely, his body within an arm’s length so he could snag you out of any bad situation if there ever were one. Still, even with his insatiable hovering tendencies, he would keep his own personal touch at bay.

At times when he would usually hold your hand or brush up against you, he stays at least three feet away. It’s as if he’s chosen to self-quarantine himself from you, deeming your affections as either insufficient or insufferable, which neither are good options to choose from.

Once it becomes overwhelming, you find yourself in too deep, too bitter. You try to reach out to him in the form of affection – brushing your palm over his hips as you pass him in the kitchen, trying to grab his hand when you’re walking together, and reaching out to touch his shoulders when he faces away from you the few nights he does end up in bed.

To shout out now would be hypocritical, as you have had a part in pushing him further from you, isolating his affectionate touches even further. Yet, the longer he keeps himself from brushing even his clothed thigh against you when he passes you by in the kitchen or at the grocery store, you wonder who is actually suffering from the lack of physical affection and who is merely existing.

Eventually he grows more suffocating.

Bakugou will not let you be out of his sight for longer than a few minutes at a time despite sitting opposite from you on every surface he can find. You have started to hide in the bathroom, proclaiming cramps or bad pork before skittering off to the bathroom with your phone clutched in the grasp of your fingers, if only to find some peace from his prying eyes for a few moments at a time.

He has never been so clingy before, and you know that it is laced with the trauma as a result of the Awase situation. However, this doesn’t make it any easier to stomach his lurking. On the other hand, it adds a stinging sensation at the irony of it all.

Bakugou wants to be completely involved in every facet of your life without even kissing you good morning when he hands you your coffee.

You knew that what had happened with Awase all those weeks ago had to have affected him, coloring his outlook on life no matter how bleak it had been before. With each passing day he grows closer to you, hands metaphorically wrapped around your throat, squeezing every last pound of air from your tongue. But still, you never imagined that he would take t his far.

And so, you lie through your teeth.

Yaoyorozu was invited to the grand opening of a bar in the plaza sector of the city, and she invites you and the other girls for a night out. You know that if Bakugou heard about you going on about visiting a bar and intending to drink, he’d say some new form of the word ‘no’ and persuade you with his big, round, crimson eyes to stay home.

There were too many safety hazards, after all. Especially if you are going to be drinking. Your senses would be impaired, and you would be much easier to take advantage of once you are two shows into the wind. And then Bakugou would casually remind you that Momo normally finds a guy and ditches you, thus forcing you into taking a cab ride home, which creates an entirely new set of problems.

Which is why, when you tell him why you won’t be home tonight, you lie, “It’s just a sleepover, like back in high school! Momo and Ochako wanted to get back together and I think Mina might even be coming too!”

Bakugou nods, looking over the top of his combat training manual, “Just let me know if you need me to come pick you up, alright?”

You nod, not daring to reach forward and try to brush your hand against his forearm, afraid he might recoil or redirect you. Instead you force a smile, nodding your head as you open the door, “Momo is picking me up, and she said she’d be fine with driving me back tomorrow, but I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

His posture visibly relaxes at the sentiment. It is maddening how one simple shift of his composure makes you want to barrel into him, to forget your entire night and attempt to curl up with him on the couch. It has been so long since you last felt his touch, even in a casual sense. The bar counter top acts like a prison, barring him from you as he isolates himself.

“Have fun,” he manages, eyes falling away from you.

And you’re glad, too. At least when he’s not looking at you, he can’t read your face for lies. Bakugou is like a human lie detector, able to sense any unease in your usually relaxed posture.

Of course he has no reason to disbelieve you – why would you lie to him in the first place? You have preyed on that trust, a thing you feel so despicable for even considering, the fib scraping against your teeth like nails on a chalkboard. You wince at his tone, unbelievably naïve, but the door stays open regardless of your conviction.

The lie rolls around in your belly like a parasite, preying on the poor decisions and leeching on your inhibitions. You feel it suffocating your throat as you blow a kiss his direction, telling him not to wait up as you readjust your backpack full of overnight accessories and a change of clothes that is slung over your right shoulder.

Bakugou smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, which only further feeds the parasitic being taken up a home in your stomach. It sits heavy on your tongue when you tell him goodnight, threatening to chew right through your cheek until it’s been bared to the whole world.

He nods, licking his lips as he watches you leave. You wave one last time as you shut the door, guilt eating you alive until you feel tears press against the backs of your eyelids. You swallow your conscience and head towards the car you recognize as Momo’s, the weight of your club clothes sitting heavy in your backpack. You cinch it closer to you, praying that Bakugou hasn’t somehow developed x-ray vision to be able to see through your bag.

And yet, a part of you wants him to come barreling down the stairwell to beg you to come back inside, back home. You want him to whisper your name like a prayer, his hands outstretched so you can reach forward to slot your knuckles between his.

At least in your hallucinations he still wants you.

--

Once you’re at the club bar, it doesn’t take long for you to find yourself in a drunken stupor.

“Listen,” you slur, pointing a finger into Momo’s ample chest, “I-I’m not sayin’ he’s gotta dick me down every night, b-but like-once?!”

You take a long drag of beer, swallowing the acidic liquid until it’s burning your throat. You slam your cup back down on the table top, pursing your lips as you take in a deep breath, “I mean it’s been months, guys. Months.”

“A-Are you serious?” Uraraka leans in closer to you, eyes widened, “N-Not since-”

“Nope,” you huff, slumping down in the booth seat. “I-I know that since the incident that things have been different, but it’s like he doesn’t even want me anymore.”

Momo reaches her arm around your shoulder, tucking you into her side, “I’m sure he just doesn’t know how to handle all of it, and he’s just trying to do his best.”

“Bakugou?” Mina laughs, bright eyes hidden behind her lids as she screws her face up into a giggle. She takes a sip of her beer, propping her feet on the nearest unoccupied table, and sighs, “Good luck with that one, babes. I don’t see things returning back to normal anytime soon, not with how damn stubborn he can be.”

The beginning of a fresh set of tears presses like a crater into the backs of your eyes, a pulsing headache drawing out a groan from your lips. You drop your forehead to the tabletop and relish at the cool surface opposing your heated flesh, “I-I know that normal isn’t exactly an option yet, but I would like to feel like I wasn’t so fucking alone in my own house, y’know? I mean, he’s right there and yet it’s like I’m there all by myself?”

Your phone buzzes from within your purse and there is a collective grouching that echoes from everyone at the table, sour expressions making it obvious the way they feel about your ringtone. Momo crosses her arms over her chest, “You do realize this is the seventeenth time he’s called you, right?”

You reach into your purse but her hand is on your wrist before you can snatch your phone. She shakes her head and Mina huffs through her nose, “Why can’t you just put that thing on silent? When is he going to stop bugging you?”

“Yeah?” Momo brushes her thumb against your forearm, “Didn’t you tell him you were coming out with us tonight?”

A bright red tinge sits hot on your cheeks, making your skin look flushed. Your friends understand your conflict then, sitting back from you in shame. Mina is the first to speak, “You lied?”

“I-well, I couldn’t just-” You rack your brain for the right words to say to defend yourself, sweat accumulating at the base of your back in droves. You want to run away, but there’s nowhere to go. If you head home now, Bakugou will most likely have a full rant ready for you as soon as you walk in the door.

“You can’t keep lying to him like this,” Momo presses her palm to your cheek, brushing away a tear before it can slip down your face, “You’re going to have to be honest with him eventually. He needs to back off, to let you live. There’s no reason he has to be attached to you like an umbilical cord all of the time.”

“His concern is kind of nice, though,” Jirou speaks up.

Your head snaps towards her and she shrugs, “All I’m saying is at least he’s trying to protect you. He’s not completely self-absorbed after all.”

Before you can try to refute her or defend him, your phone starts ringing once more. Your hand dives into your purse, pulling it from within and looking down at it like that might keep it from ringing any longer.

“I don’t understand!” You’re whining now, fresh saltine droplets settling in your lashes. You wipe at your face, “I-I don’t get why he won’t just leave me the hell alone. I told him exactly what I was doing tonight, exactly where I was going and who I was going to be with. I just-”

“Except you lied.”

You feel all of the heat leave your body, only frozen fingertips and an icy, rigid spine left behind.

You turn your head at the familiar baritone voice that cuts into you from behind, and your heart drops into your stomach. When you breathe, the parasitic thing living there begins to swallow your stomach whole, gnawing away at your most sensitive parts first.

You grit your teeth, forcing yourself to feel anger instead of shame, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“What, pray tell, the fuck are you doing here?!” Bakugou snaps, eyes a conflagration of brassy tones, pupils dilated to prove his anger, as if it weren’t so evident from his tone.

Mina goes to speak up when she sees you flinch, but you’re already being dragged out from the safety of the booth seat. Bakugou’s blunt nails are digging into your bicep and forearm like little spears, snagging you so you can’t get away. He yanks you into the hallway, your back pressed into the wall as he further infringes on your space with his closeness.

“You fuckin’ lied to me?”

His voice is held together by rage, begging to be broken apart as he lets the feelings seep through the cracks of his resolve. Bakugou’s jaw quivers as he grinds his teeth together, heaving breaths making his chest expand to brush against your own. It’s the closest thing you’ve felt to intimacy since that night in the alley – since he decided to pretend that you and your needs didn’t exist.

You want to start bubbling out another fib, foaming at the mouth with lies so smooth he’d have to believe them. Your brain is stumbling in attempt to keep up with his fast paced thinking. Every phrase you could possibly say to make this go down like honey instead of vinegar passes through your mind, but you know that this will sting no matter how long you put off trying to swallow it.

The intentions you have now, to make everything easier on him and spare his emotions, have been tainted by your conniving words from before. You weren’t preparing for a confessional in the middle of this hole-in-the-wall bar, but not every night goes exactly how you plan it.

The both of you understand that sentiment rather intimately.

Bakugou’s eyes are ablaze, vermilion bleeding to amber nearest his pupils. His jawline is flexed, nostrils flaring, and you know that laced within his anger is something akin to fright, fearfulness. Every single feature he possesses is pinched tightly, as if his body were wound like a coil, and he is going to snap at any moment.

And then, when your mouth bobs open and shut, and you can’t find the right lie to squeeze between your teeth, you begin putting the whole situational puzzle back together. Anger replaces the acrid taste in your mouth, cinders of fury settling on your tongue the more it all starts to make sense.

Your eyes meet his and he feels the shift, his grip on your arm lessening at the sight of your furious irises honing in on him. The reality that he is not as innocent as you would like to believe seeps into your skin, settling like sticky acid, and you itch religiously to get it off of you.

“How did you know that I was here?” you ask, voice eerily calm as your vision begins to blur at the edges. You gnaw on your lower lip, tilting your head to consider every falter in his expression, “I told you I was going to be at Yaoyorozu’s. You had no idea that-”

You can’t help the choking sound that comes from your throat next, gagging on your words as pure fury overwhelms your body. Your shoulders shudder under the strain of these destructive emotions as realization settles in. Even the fear in his own irises cannot stop the tumultuous build of vehemence that seeps through you like molten lava, crawling upwards through your veins until all you can see is red – blinding red.

You’re repeating your question when it appears he won’t answer you to speak the truth; eyebrows furrowed, forehead wrinkled. Your jawline pulsates with muscle tremors as you grit your teeth down fervently, a high-pitched whining sound echoing within your own skull at the action, “What did you do, Katsuki?”

It’s not a question, though, not this time.

Bakugou’s throat bobs and before he can give you some shitty, half-thought out excuse, you’re poking your finger into his chest, directly between the taut line of his pectorals, “Where is it?”

“Wh-What?” he manages to cough out, tongue bitten between his teeth.

You take a step back with each question of the location, chin wobbling in denial, “My bag? My phone? My car? Did you put it in me, Katsuki?”

The sound of his given name dripping like toxic acid from your tongue makes his heart constrict within the confines of his chest. The organ beats at a thunderous pace, so hard that he’s sure there is an outlined bruise in the shape of it if you were to peel his shirt back and look. Still, he knows better than to argue with you – knows even better than to try and deny it. You are a human lie detector when it comes to him. You know his mannerisms so well that you’re able to spot a stuttering breath from a mile off, even the smallest of hints to his dastardly secret-keeping seeming like bright white lights to you.

He has backed himself into a corner in trying to keep you safe, so he admits with his head hung low, “Your phone.”

A shuddering breath makes your chest collapse, jaw fallen slack at the confession. Your spirit was praying that he might have just found out from a friend, maybe Kirishima discovered that you were out with Momo and Mina and told him. But no, now he’s admitted to the crime and he knows that he’ll have to face the punishment.

You want to root around in your purse until you’ve found the offending object, but it’s not the time, at least not right now. He can’t take advantage of using it while you’re both still in the same location. You’ll have to handle it later.

“How long?” you ask, voice small.

Bakugou does not answer immediately. His eyes are downcast, unable to meet yours as his lower lip quivers just enough for you to make it out in the dim light of the bar. Your heart thrums at the sight of him so distraught, but you lock your knees and force your body to straighten your spine and steel your resolve.

You repeat the question, digging your fingertip into his skin until you are sure that you’ve drawn blood underneath the fabric of his black tank top.

He snaps, the blood vessels in his neck thudding against the tanned skin there, “Since Awase, when the fuck else do you think?”

And just like that, your entire body is thrown back in time. You are that helpless woman in that alleyway, your body used for the lustful gratification of someone else, thrown to the side like a plaything when he was through. You feel hands, lips, skin, all over you, torturing your body even now when you are awake. The ghost of his crooked touch makes your eyes water, thick droplets sticking to your lashes.

The sound of that villain’s name makes your ears burn and your tongue turn to sandpaper. A chill runs down your spine despite the massive blanket of heat in the room from all the bodies burning with alcohol and movement. Your head feels fuzzy, eyes unable to focus as you attempt to come back to this version of reality.

A single tear drips down your cheek, but Bakugou knows better than to try and wipe it away like he might if it were any other time.

“I-I can’t believe this,” you murmur, withdrawing your finger from him to cover your mouth with both hands. You blink slowly, turning your gaze from him to the floor, taking it all in with stride, attempting to breathe as evenly as possible while still processing everything unfolding in front of you.

Bakugou reaches up to touch your elbow, just enough contact to try and bring you back down to earth. Your eyes snap upward, meeting his vermilion gaze with an expression opposing your fiery wit from earlier. He’s never seen your body waver in such a way that would leave him to believe you to be weak, but now all he wants is to hold you between his arms, piecing you back together bone-by-bone, vessel-by-vessel.

You’re lost in the simplistic touch of him, the first you’ve felt in what you know to be weeks, but believe to be eons. He has been so distant from you that you almost forget why you are angry when he’s this close to you, suffocating your body in the best of ways. You can smell the telltale sign of his quirk, an ashen sweetness that you are sure you’ve become addicted to throughout the entirety of your relationship.

A breath bites through your lungs and you sharply cut your teeth into the inside of your cheek, trying to snap yourself out of your dazed stupor brought on by isolation. As you open your eyes again, you steel yourself, stepping up with brazen confidence to slap away his hand from your arm.

The burning flames licking at your throat turn to white-hot rage, “I don’t know what the hell your problem is, Katsuki, but this controlling me shit has got to stop.”

His eyes refocus on yours again, pupils swallowing those pretty red globes whole, fear riddling every bone in his fragile body, “Wh-What are you talking about?”

Now it is you who has backed him into a corner, his backside and shoulder pushing against the wall. He tries to reach out to stop you, to beg for your forgiveness, but the stony expression in your irises tells him that he needs to be still an listen no matter how many biting insults and wanton words sit on his tongue.

“You’re breathing down my neck, Bakugou,” you inhale a shuddering breath at the sound of his surname being forced through your teeth. Tears lick at the corner of your eyes, your fists shaking by your sides, “I can’t take a shit without you wondering why I’m gone for longer than three minutes. You’ve been so fucking controlling that I can’t even go out with my friends without you needing to make it a momentous occasion!”

“You lied to me, for fucks sake!” Bakugou presses into you, snarling around his words. “You expect me to just forget that? What else have you been lying about?”

Your teeth clatter against one another, rattling around in your head, “I had to! You’ve been this glass case of emotion lately! And you won’t even let me walk home alone! I feel like I have a damn shadow everywhere I go!”

“I’m trying to-”

A thought hits you then, mulling you over so powerfully that you stumble backward, putting distance between the two of you. Your gaze falters from him to the wall, unable to look him in the eyes as you utter the next few syllables, “You don’t trust me?”

Bakugou is quick to refute you, stepping forward to take you out of your haze, “Hell no, baby! Of course, I trust you.”

“You put a goddamn tracker on my phone!” you snap, muscles quivering beneath your skin as your entire body tenses at the statement. Tears settle in your lids, dripping down over your cheek when you force him off of you. “What the hell am I supposed to think?”

He reaches out and wraps you up in his arms forcefully, despite your thrashing and shoving. You tear into him with your words and your touch, trying to punch him even though your range of motion is rather limited. Bakugou puts his chin on the top of your head, bottling you up like liquid rage, holding you together as you try to fall apart.

Bakugou has one hand against the back of your head, hands tucked into the tresses of your hair to cradle your head into the curve of his neck. His other palm rubs up and down the length of your arm as he tries to calm you down from your frenzied state, the loud music and pulsing bodies in the background of the bar doing little to deter your heightened temper.

You gulp as you feel his mouth bury into the crown of your head, kisses sprinkled into your hair like little flowers, petals of kind words tucked against your scalp. Bakugou wants to take you by the hand and drag you home, to curl up with you for the first time since that horrible night in the alleyway, and whisper promises into your skin until he goes hoarse.

You tilt your head upward, face shining bright with tears, nose bumping into his chin, “The-Then why do you-”

Katsuki nudges his nose over yours, a shuddering breath making his lip tremble against the bow of your mouth. A snarling growl rips his throat wide open as every feral, primal instinct buried deep within him is unleashed, “Are you really that dense, dumbass?”

The insult takes you by surprise, facial expression souring as you roll your tongue against your teeth, attempting to swallow the acidic retort sitting on the tip of the muscle in your mouth. Bakugou watches you with a careful eye, making sure that you aren’t going to speak up before he tries to rephrase himself.

“Listen, I just-I…” The words are caught in his throat, raking into his esophagus like shards of glass. Bakugou hates being vulnerable, especially with you. It makes him feel raw, torn open, and uncomfortable. He wants to be the pillar of strength you believe him to be, and how can he prove that he’s worthy of your trust when he feels so weak?

And yet, with you standing in front of him with expectant eyes and shaking hands, he finds it within himself to say what has been plaguing his mind for weeks.

“This shitstorm happened to me too, y’know?”

He sounds so heartbreakingly honest that it makes your skin prickle. A chill tightens like a coil around your spine, spreading shards of ice throughout your veins until your whole body is burning from the frigid feeling, fingertips numb.

Bakugou’s mouth bobs open and shut before he tears a hand through his hair, the other never leaving your body, frustrated at the fact that he can’t think of the right things to say. He looks up at the ceiling, a breath expanding his chest so he’s flush with you.

“Every fucking time I close my eyes, I see that shit all over again.” The veins in his body are prominent as he stresses himself out by trying to speak, “I see you, helpless, because I fucked up and lost focus. I-I couldn’t do anything and you needed me an-”

He can’t force the words out, can’t muster them up from the back of his throat no matter how many times he licks at the inside of his mouth, desperately searching his own skin for the answers. The reality of what might come to fruition when he says his truth out loud is too much to bear, no matter how much he knows he has to have this conversation with you. This is not something you both can just move on from, not without addressing it in all of its ugliness first. He wills the words to come out, closing his eyes and breathing deep. And even still, his mind will not cal.

Katsuki is a raging sea and you are the rickety lifeboat caught in his violent storm.

You swirl in his vortex for a moment longer before prodding him, hand pressed flat against his chest. You brush your thumb over his collarbone, ��Katsuki, come on, talk to me. Please.”

Bakugou’s hand flinches by his side and you wonder if he wants to reach out to touch you with the pads of his fingers; to use you like an anchor, weighing him down in the right in the right way to bring him back to the current version of reality.

“I’m right here,” you whisper, pushing him further, knowing what he’s trying to tell you, but needing to hear it from his own tongue.

You step into his space and crowd him into the tight expanse of the hallway, and he can’t draw his eyes away from you despite the shame he feels from the tears currently clouding his vision. Every naysayer in his life comes to him in that very moment, telling him that he’s weak and spineless, completely useless if he can’t do the simplest of tasks. They scream at him, clawing at his heart until he’s bleeding out tears, hands shuddering in pain.

All he wants is to see you smiling again; a genuine, shining smile. He wants to watch as your eyes light up when he kisses you, or when he touches you here and there, casually in passing. Bakugou misses the old kindling the two of you had before that fateful night all those weeks ago. There was a familiarity that now feels lost in translation, wafting somewhere between the space separating the both of you.

You’re begging him in his ear now, words lodged like knives into his heart, a new syllable signifying a new blade, “Why are you doing this, Katsuki? Please, tell me!”

That is the last one – the proverbial blade that shoves its way through is spine to split him in two. He can’t help the way his voice shatters when he finally breaks, falling forward on weak knees, “To fucking protect you! Goddammit!”

You take a short step backward, shuffling away from him at his sudden furious outburst, the change in volume startling you. Goosebumps pebble on your skin and you feel a wave of anxiety wash over you, settling in your stomach to eat away at your resolve, that same parasite from earlier flaring up all over again. You swallow the pent-up emotion in your throat, but Bakugou isn’t finished, not yet. Now that he’s finally been ripped open, he can’t stop the flow.

“Every night you’d get further and further away from me,” his hands are flexing at his sides, knuckles turning white, little crackling explosions lighting like a warning sign, “And I can’t fucking get over this shit, okay?!”

The familiar ashen sweetness lingers in the air at the bare minimum usage of his quirk, but it’s comforting in a way. You breathe it in and try to stave off any tears from stemming down your cheeks. It is his turn to crumble, to fall down at your feet and beg for you to help him repair the gaping wound in his chest.

As you watch him fall apart, it’s physically painful to witness the way his body quivers, every muscle coiled and ready to spring into use. His lower lip, full and pink, is wobbling while he tries to form coherent sentences. You’ve never wanted to reach out and touch him more, to calm him with a tender brush of your knuckles over his cheek, or a hand flattened onto the plane of his chest. But he is too far away from you now, distant in the worst way.

It’s like he’s a figurative bomb, building up and ready to detonate. Each passing moment only fills him with more gunpowder, stuffing his throat until he’s suffocating under the notion that he can’t save you. Has he ever been capable of keeping you from harm?

“I-I was weak,” his voice breaks and so does his façade, tears brimming in the ducts of his reddened lids, “I let that fucker get the best of me, and i-it cost you. You were hurt because I couldn’t protect you.”

Bakugou’s palms shudder at his sides, fingers curling around smoke. You want to step forward, to reassure him that he is the furthest thing from weak that you have ever seen, but he cowers from you when you get too close. He reminds you of a caged animal finally set free, unsure of where to step, how to breathe all of the fresh air at once. Almost as if he is withholding himself from you now that his confession has broken through the bars around his heart, echoed loud for you to hear.

“Throwing yourself into danger isn’t going to help,” you answer him, “and neither is suffocating me.”

The fire fueling your bones from earlier returns at the realization that he has been distancing himself from you on purpose. You assumed it had been a subconscious decision based on the trauma experienced from the encounter with Awase, but you never would have guessed he was actively choosing to ignore you, especially physically. And now, with his hands shaking at his sides, you are beginning to wonder if he feels the same pull that you do, the desire to let your palms search one another’s skin to find the answers to your innermost questions.

“The only thing I’m any good at is fighting!” Bakugou falls back against the wall, eyes downcast in defeat as his shoulders slump forward. He opens his palms in front of his body, flexing his fingers. “All I can do is work as hard as I possibly can to be the best. I have to be the best.”

He curls his fingers back to fists, fury coursing through his veins like fire, accumulating in his palms to a head, a bomb settled in the cracks and crevices of his skin. “All I can focus on right now is getting stronger, to be a hero that you can trust to keep you safe.”

When his eyes snap up to meet yours, there’s a flame burning deep in his vermilion irises that makes them look alight, the bright amber color in contrast to their usual hue. It frightens you slightly, sending a tremor down your spine until you are curling your toes.

Bakugou’s hands creak as he turns them to fists, knuckles turning white, “I’ll be the best, even if it kills me.”

The very permanent word involving mortality turns your knees to jelly, bones grinding against one another in a desperate attempt to keep yourself upright. Your throat closes, emotion billowing like smoke in your esophagus until it is pushing into every available space, effectively choking you where you stand.

“Y-You don’t have to be so, so,” you struggle to find the words, breath hard to come by as you gasp for air, “so-”

“So what?!” Bakugou’s voice is patronizing now as he grows defensive at your tone, taking a downward turn to the other side of kind. He grits his teeth and you allow yourself to see him for what he truly is in this moment – a frightened child, begging for a savior, or at least some solid ground. He grimaces, shaking his head, “I couldn’t protect you when I needed to. And if I can’t keep you safe, what else am I good for?”

Silence hangs between the two of you at the heaviness of his words, creating an even further distance as his words settle like embers on your heart.

You want to brush the cinders away, blowing the ash into the wind and along with it, the horrific memories from the past few weeks. His name sits on the tip of your tongue, scratching at the muscle and begging to be freed from the cage of your teeth. Your fingertips ache at your sides, keening towards him with the desire to find something to feel, some tactile version of reality to reaffirm that you have not lost everything. The heaviness in your feet keeps you from shuffling forward, tucking yourself into his body and promising him that you’ll never see him as anything short of incredible.

“See?” Bakugou’s voice shatters into another wave of jagged pieces with every longing look you give him, tossing his arms in the air to show his defeat, “And then you go and do shit like this, where you look at me like I put the fuckin’ sun in the sky every morning.”

He’s wheezing the words out now, manic movements jerking his arms and shoulders, praying that his palms might go off in the middle of this club so you both can get booted out and forced to go home. Maybe then he can break through the barrier of how he has been feeling to show you why he’s treated you like a child.

“How the hell am I supposed to live up to this pillar of greatness you’ve made me out to be? This perfect image of me you have in your mind is a lie,” Bakugou is begging you for an answer with his gestures. His hands reach towards you, never touching, eyebrows cocked upward as his eyes search your face for a secret message hidden beneath your skin. “You think that I can do no wrong, that I’ll always be your hero. And now that I’ve fucked that up, and you still look at me the same exact way, how am I supposed to live with that? With being a fraud?”

Bakugou blinks and two identical tear droplets seep over the corners of his lids, tracking down his cheeks as he gasps for air, “I-I can’t help it when you look at me like I have all the answers when I-I can’t even fuckin’ figure out how I-”

You cover him like sunlight, warm and safe. He feels your mouth against his, your hands on his face and chest and its like you’ve pulled him from where he was floating midair back down to the ground again. Bakugou’s body is flush between your torso and the wall, either side of him pressed into something. He is hot, too hot, like his body temperature has skyrocketed. Sweat trickles down his spine, sticking his shirt to his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur as you part from him.

Your nose brushes against his, the bow of your lips still touching when you speak, “I haven’t been very considerate of you. I was too wrapped up in the way I was feeling that I didn’t stop to consider how it has been affecting you.”

You palm at his face, fingertips fawning over his cheek bones and brows and temples. Bakugou’s jaw is quivering, hands still dormant by his sides, flexed until his palms are splotched red with effort. You run your hand up from his chest to his shoulder, kneading the heel into his muscles to try and relax his body.

“Katsuki,” you call to him. “Look at me.”

And he listens.

The trail of your fingertips on his forearm feels like gasoline, trickling down his skin slowly but surely, making its way to his palms where his skin will act like a detonator. Bakugou grinds his teeth together as he tries to stay focused in on your face, the effort from it all makes the vein on his forehead protrude, thudding profusely beneath his skin.

“Take me home.”

--

The walk up the stairs to your door is tense, quiet.

Bakugou turns the key into the lock, the door opening with a gentle click. The two of you step inside, your bags strewn on the countertop and your shoes kicked off near the mat. Your hands wring in front of you as he faces away, the only visible thing being his backside.

“I don’t deserve you.”

The words take you by surprise, shaking you to your core. You stumble backward, hand clutched over your heart when it starts to sting, “Wh-Why do you think-”

“Do you know what it’s like to have people’s lives put into your hands, and then to fuck it all up?” Bakugou turns to look at you, hands glowing with the threat of his quirk, “To put the one person you care about more than fucking breathing into danger?”

His jaw quivers, “You didn’t see the look in your eyes when he was putting you through that shit. You were looking to me for help and I was fucking welded to a goddamn wall!”

You reach out to press your fingertip into the center of his palm, diffusing the built-up nitroglycerin in the crevices of his skin. Bakugou’s shoulders shudder, his eyes widening at your touch. You force a smile, but it does not reach your eyes, and he notices.

“Hey,” you call to him, your other hand drifting up to cup his cheek, trying to turn him towards you. “Stop that. Look at me.”

Bakugou’s eyes stop flitting around and focus on you, connecting your gazes. He looks frightened again, like a scared child. All you want is to hold him tight and put him back together again until he feels whole.

You push yourself up onto your toes, nudging your nose over his cheek slowly. You’re taken aback when you feel his hesitant touch dredge over your hip, thumb just beneath your top. It’s the most intimate feeling you’ve received from him in weeks, and it sends every atom of you on high alert. Your spine tingles as you stutter-step forward until you’re pressed into him.

Your breath hitches at his closeness, fanning out over him in a wave of heat that makes him shiver. You feel your heart ready to explode from within the confines of your chest, begging to be let free as it tries to claw its way out of your ribcage. You can’t look away from him, it’s like he’s turned into a magnet for your body.

As you graze over his chest with your other hand, the one against his cheek brushes up into his hair to card through the blonde strands. Your thumb catches against the stubble of his undercut just behind his pierced ears and it makes you smile, remembering the conversation where you coerced him into getting the new haircut in the first place. And now he can’t go a couple weeks without getting it shaped back up.

“Kiss me,” you plead, your touch like that of a siren, calling him deeper into the water, “please, Katsuki.”

In spite of him suffocating you mentally and situationally, you know that he’s been distant physically. It wasn’t hard to realize the shift in affections, especially since you’ve grown accustomed to his wayward glances and casual touches. Once he started to withdraw from you, you began to worry but your own anxiety wound so tightly around your body that it drowned out any other inhibitions that might have drawn you closer to asking questions. Bakugou has never been one to bare his emotions anyway.

Every morsel of him wants to dive headfirst into your waters, to drink you in through his nose and mouth until it is only the essence of you that remains. And yet there is something holding him back, like strings attached to his shoulders, forcing him to stay still.

It is that very look in your eyes right now that keeps him at bay. The reality that you’ve not tainted your view of him makes his stomach churn. You should hate him for letting Awase take advantage of you. You should want to slap him across the face and punch him in the gut. You should want to rip your fingers into his chest and slay him where he stands, cutting a gaping hole where his heart once was, filling it with a black ooze that might represent your disdain and disappointment.

Anything other than this overwhelming prideful look gleaming in your eyes that tells him he could do no wrong.

The sight of it brings tears to his eyes and he has to look away, the weight of it all too stifling as he attempts to breathe again. Bakugou struggles with oxygen, feeling lightheaded as you stand so near to him.

“Look at me,” you beg of him, your own voice sounding raw. You swallow every possible reticence you might have in this moment and focus all of your energy on him, “I love you, okay? There’s nothing you could do to change that, Katsuki. Nothing, so-”

You’re cut off mid-sentence by the familiar feel of his lips, warm and full against your mouth. He has captured you entirely, his hands on your face as he steps in closer to you. You shudder with tears at the sensation of him kissing you for the first time in weeks. A wash of warmth seeps through your body, starting at your head and curling around your spin until it has reached your toes. You feel lightheaded at it all, so wrapped up in him that you can’t focus on anything else.

Bakugou’s arms wrap around your shoulders, his body squatted in front of you to push himself closer into every crevice of available skin. You dip your hands beneath his top, the pads of your fingers mapping out the contours of his muscular frame.

“Fuck,” he murmurs between your teeth, your tongue catching the word by lapping against his gums.

His hands find your backside, squeezing the supple skin like his life depends on it. You moan, rolling your hips forward. Your mind is foggy, your entire being in a haze, at the passionate way his hands obsess over your body.

When he taps your hips with his thumbs, you know what it means. You leap upward, his forearms catching your thighs to wrap you around his waistline. You don’t break away from kissing him. You’re not sure after this if he might retreat back into himself, so you full well intend on milking him for all that he’s worth in every aspect of the word.

The next thing you feel is the cool sheets beneath your steaming backside, sweat making your shirt cling to your body. Your hand sifts through Bakugou’s hair and he nips at your lower lip, relishing in the way the moans fall freely from your tongue.

He sits back on his thighs, tugging his shirt over his head, when he mumbles, “Shirt. Off. Now.”

The momentary burst of authority makes your cunt clench beneath the lace of your underwear. Your eyes go wide, but you do not hesitate to pull the offending fabric from your upper half. Bakugou has settled between your thighs when you can finally see him again. He makes quick work of your bra, flinging the garment across the room carelessly before swooping in to begin sucking at your chest.

He tweaks one piqued nipple between his thumb and forefinger, the other side of you preoccupied with his mouth. You whine, bucking your hips upward. Even through the thick fabric of his jeans, you can make out the impression of his bulging erection. The thought of getting to feel his dick again makes you keen, reaching up to thread your hand into his hair, the other palm digging fingernails into the thick, corded muscle of his shoulders.

“Damn, Princess,” he murmurs as he releases your nipple with a pop. “Such a good girl for me.”

Your breath shudders out of your lungs, fanning over his hair to make the strands shake in the darkness of your bedroom. You wrap your legs around his midsection to try and grind yourself up into his clothed length.

Bakugou slips his hand beneath your shorts, unbuttoning them swiftly as his middle finger finds your clit immediately. You can’t help it when your whole body goes rigid, the once lost sensation of his hands on your lower half returning in a blinding wave of white-hot pleasure.

“Please, Katsuki,” you force yourself to look him in the eyes even though you think you’re seeing stars, “I just want you, please. I want you in me.”

He’s hesitant when he looks down at you, eyes stuttering over which of your features to focus on first. The tip of his middle finger is brushed up against your slick folds, not delving in just yet. Your chest is heaving, eyes clouded with the threat of tears while you palm at him, desperate for every inch of his skin to be mapped out beneath your fingerprints.

“You have me,” he whispers, cracking voice barely audible. He nods, slipping his finger slowly between the walls of your cunt, “You have me, baby.”

As he starts to coil his finger within you, the squelching sound of his digit and your pussy echoing off the walls, he looks you directly in the eyes. His free hand is near your head but you wish he’d touch you with it, your body insatiably itching for his next pass. You lick your lips and go to beg for him again, unwilling to sit through the torture of his fingers, but he stops you with a kiss.

“Let me do this, let me make you feel good.”

You are speechless, left only with a gaping mouth that is claimed by his tongue. He licks at your teeth and cheeks, whining for you to reciprocate while his finger still pumps in and out of you, knuckle dragging in a tantalizing way against your smooth walls. You hold him as tightly as you can by the neck, keeping him anchored to you, the fear of him running away from you again settling like a lead anchor in your belly.

It doesn’t take long for him to push you to the edge of your first orgasm. You’ve been denied of him for so long that you’re sure you could come undone under any circumstance at this point. But still, his thick digits curled up in the heat of you, coaxing forth the first white-hot wave of pleasure makes your body shudder.

“Katsuki,” you pant, rolling your hips in time with his finger’s thrusts.

The coil within your stomach starts to bunch up, so you clench around his finger. You whine, throwing your head back, jaw hung slack. Bakugou kisses up the column of your neck, “C’mon, baby, I know you can do it for me, yeah? You’re so pretty when you come apart.”

His encouragement is what throws you over the edge. You’ve missed the sound of his timbre coaching you into orgasm after orgasm. You cry out, your voice breaking, and your hips fall slack against the mattress as the pleasure digs into you. The silvery strands of your slick coat his fingers, but he doesn’t part from you until he’s sure that he’s lured every last whimper from your lips, every last wash of arousal from your hips.

You have him by the neck, digging your fingers in to pull him back towards your mouth for another drawn out kiss. Your nose and teeth clash, but it doesn’t matter because he’s here and he’s got his hands on you. The way your body sings at his caress does not go unnoticed by him, or rather he relishes in it, basking in the sound of your wanton moans and the reaction of your begging limbs.

“Please, Katsuki,” you’re grabbing for him as he pulls away. Your fingers desperately cling to his skin, digging in and forcing half-moon prints into the tanned flesh, “I need you, please.”

The words throw him back to those moments in the alleyway when your eyes screamed the phrase you’re speaking now. He was powerless to help you then, but he can be the one to save you now.

Bakugou stands to his feet and shuffles out of his pants, his cock throbbing between his thighs when he pulls away his briefs. You try to tug down your shorts but your body is so weak and you can’t force your brain to communicate with your extremities, so you end up pouting, hot tears clouding your eyes in frustration.

“Hey,” he nudges his nose over your cheek before kissing you long enough for you to forget about your predicament. Your body molds to his intentions, hands finding his undercut to sift through the short hair there, his skin providing you with some sense of calm despite the raging emotions thudding like thunder in your brain.

He gently tugs down your shorts, peeling them from your ankles before depositing them on the floor. Bakugou runs his hand down his cock, using his bead of pre-come and what remains of your arousal on his hand to lubricate the skin. You’re salivating at the sight of him, inflamed red cockhead ready to split your cunt wide open. You’ve missed the familiarity of him inside of you, and your body notices because despite just having a spectacular orgasm that should have put you to bed for some time, your pussy flutters as a new wave of slick trickles down to the sheets.

The tip of his cock opens your pussy up enough that you’re keening forward, pleading to take more of him with the canting of your hips. You whimper out beseeching words, eyes searching his face as your hands try to find purchase on his shoulders. He shakes his head, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “Hush, baby. I promise I’m gonna take care of you, okay?”

The duality of his words is not lost on you.

Your jaw hangs open slightly, eyes wide as you look up at him. Bakugou grips the headboard with one hand, the other guiding his cock into your heat. If you look close enough, you can see the threat of glassy tears washing over his pretty red irises, making them look like little jewels in the moonlight filtering through your bedroom windows.

“Katsuki,” you whimper his name like a prayer as he slowly sheaths himself between your folds. He grunts when the base of his cock meets the lips of your pussy, eyelids fluttering somewhere between open and shut at the sensation.

He drops his head, gritting his teeth, “Fuck, I missed you.”

A relieved, broken laugh shakes your throat, the smile left behind making Bakugou see stars. You palm at his chest, “I missed you too, so much.”

The two of you have still been together every day, even sleeping in the same bed, and yet you’ve been so distant it was heartbreaking. You feel the shards of your shattered heart slowly piecing back together with each thrust he throttles into you, his hips slamming into your thighs.

It’s intense, but somehow graceful. Bakugou is not just ramming his cock into you for the sake of doing it, but he’s proving to you with every stroke of him that he’s never leaving your side again. He’s gripping the headboard so hard that his nails are leaving scratches, but you’re more focused with the tantalizing snap of his hips, the drag of his cock and those prominent veins as they stimulate your pussy even further.

His jaw quivers, hands white knuckling as he clutches the headboard even harder, picking up his pace to start building that starburst in your belly. He’s unwilling to let his hands go near you now that he’s got himself sheathed completely.

He doesn’t deserve every part of you, not yet.

Bakugou’s chest twists as he realizes he hasn’t earned his honor back; he hasn’t won the prize of feeling your skin under the sensitive pads of his fingertips while he’s fucking into you with his aching cock.

His breath stutters, heart clenching within the confine of his ribs, at the sight of you, your irises focused on only him. Your pupils are blown wider with each thrust, black swallowing the color of your irises as you reach that peak subservient headspace. His hips move slow but with purpose, his cock pulsing within your walls as you clamp down on him.

Snapping his hips up into you, the heat of it all starts to overwhelm him and he can’t breathe. The mix of your warm skin and the absolute adoration held for him in your eyes is too stimulating once you tighten your cunt around him, trapping his dick in your heat.

“Fuck, baby,” he whimpers, stilling his hips as his nails screech against the headboard.

Your hands are on him in an instance, exploring his chest and shoulders. You lick your lips and force your ass to stay put on the bed, breathing heavy through your lips. You swallow and your throat bobs, only proving further to him how absolutely enamored with him you appear to be.

“Katsuki,” you whisper into the void, cheeks warming with a blush.

Bakugou shakes his head and with the ferocity that he’s gripping the headboard, he wonders if your nailbeds can bleed. He bites down harshly on his lower lip, listening to your pleading calls for a moment too long before responding, “I-I don’t-”

He can’t form coherent sentences, not when he’s buried to the hilt inside of you and you’re gazing up at him like he’s just gotten back from hanging the moon. He squints hard, eyes filling up with tears, “I can’t, fuck.”

“Hey,” your breathless voice catches him in midair, anchoring him back from the dull hallucination that he could never find his way back to you. You reach up to gently press your palm onto his cheek, the cooling touch of your hands doing enough to dispel some of the heat on his cheeks. You push away the sweaty locks of blonde hair sticking to his forehead so you can see his eyes in their full clarity.

Katsuki’s chin wobbles as he looks down at you, forcing his eyes to stay trained in on your face no matter how much he wants to look away. He still doesn’t believe he deserves that look you hold for him within your gaze; the way you tell him that he’s nothing short of a pillar of strength in your mind with a simple look is absolutely baffling.

“Hey,” you call again, tender tone striking a chord in his heart.

Your thumb brushes underneath his eyes, the height of his cheekbones, and you smile at his fragility. Bakugou’s eyes flit around to everything but you, overactive and unable to focus on you when you’re looking at him like he’s painted the stars in the night sky.

His conscience berates him as he lays with his cock buried deep into your pussy, his hips flush with yours, the doubt kicking him in the ribs to remind him that he must be nothing short of a piece of shit – how could he let you fall into someone else’s hands? How could he be so careless? How could he-

“Katsuki,” you rub your hands over his face once more, patiently pulling him from the recesses of his toiling mind, “Come back to me.”

Bakugou’s pupils dilate but somehow you manage to bring his attention back around to your face, connecting your gazes once more. You are struggling to maintain your composure between his cock pulsing within you and the lack of his hands on your skin, your body stimulated but still wanting, but you whimper the words, “Will you kiss me?”

In that simple sentence, Bakugou realizes that he could never truly run from you.

Tears drip down from his cheeks onto your neck, pooling at the little cavity created by your collarbones. You smile up at him, brushing at the droplets as they drip down from his eyelids, cradling his face as he makes the decision to start running back to you instead of sprinting away.

“I love you,” he chokes out the words before claiming your lips with his searing hot kiss.

Your hands dip into the curves of his hips, prodding him to move forward while your lips sink deeper into his. Bakugou groans at the sensation, eyes rolling behind his closed lids, and slowly his palms find your body.

It’s almost like the first time he touched you, his fingertips searching every inch of available skin as if it were new to him. He rolls his thumbs over your ribs, counting each one under his breath as he fucks into you slowly. You whimper when he bites your lower lip, your jaw slack as he starts a biting path of kisses down from your chin to your earlobe.

“Katsuki,” your toes curl when he bottoms out within you, the tip of his cock brushing that delicate, spongy spot at the back of your core. Your nails drag salaciously down his shoulders, drawing little beads of blood in their wake.

“Fuck,” he groans, biting down harshly on your neck. He chokes on a sob before licking and kissing your collarbones, “I love you.”

Bakugou is fucking into you steadily now, his hips slamming into you at just the right angle that the vein running along the underside of his dick drags against your folds. You clamp down on his cock when you feel it begin to twitch again, his cockhead brushing your cervix. He’s sniffling, breath catching at the sound, “I love you so goddamn much. I don’t fucking deserve you.”

He’s overcome with emotion but it only spurs him forward faster. His hips slam mercilessly into you, every rut telling you what he cannot coherently say with words. And you accept his wordless confessions with the tightness of your core, the openness of your eyes.

You respond in fervor, your lips singing his praises as you feel the beginnings of another orgasm curling into a hot fire in the pit of you. It’s like lava has dripped down every vein in your body, lighting your skin on fire with its proverbial heat. You whine, your back arching in the perfect way for his mouth to latch onto your pert nipple.

“Katsu’, please, fill me up,” you whimper, palming at his injured back, finding scars and wounds alike, “I want your come, won’t you come in me?”

He’s nodding around your nipple, affirming you non-verbally, but the gentle tug of his teeth makes you whine again. You are completely distraught with the pounding of his cock into your tight, wet heat, the obscene sounds reverberating off of the walls only to bounce back at you like an echo.

“So fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he grunts, hot tears mixing with the saliva that covers your breast, “such a good girl for me. Takin’ me so well. Gonna take this load?”

You can’t help the way you nod ferociously, pleading with him through both words and actions. You whine, a shuddering of your throat making the sound much more desperate than you intended, “Please, Katsuki. I just want you to stuff me full, I want to be full of you.”

The last time your cunt was full, it was with another man’s seed.

Thinking about it makes your tongue turn heavy and your stomach sour. You grit your teeth and the scent of ashen sweetness fills your nostrils, taking over every thought you’d had previously. You can’t linger your memories on the way something made you feel before, you will destroy your mind and your pride.

All you can focus on is scrubbing yourself clean with Katsuki.

He washes over you like a soothing balm, the heat of his body burning away any trace of anything else from any time before this moment now. Every one of your senses are overwhelmed by him – his body, his breath, his scent. You want to drown in him, only fulfilled through his means for the rest of your days, to dive headfirst into his pain and break through until it is only the two of you left.

You lick at him, the familiar taste of his skin settling on your tongue as you lap over flesh and bone. You beg for his hands to touch every inch of you with wanton moans falling from your lips, scrubbing away at the nightmares and replacing them with the fiery blonde with a quipping tongue to match his superpower. If you thought you might could handle it, you’d ask him to blast you with his quirk, to burn away what is left from before until there is only the now.

“I love you,” you whisper into the dark, “It’s only you, Katsuki. Always.”

Bakugou’s mouth is licking at your neck when you feel his hips still, the telltale sign of his release begging to be set free. You palm at his face, forcing him to look you in the eyes because you can’t hold it in anymore, the words making your chest swell until you think you might burst wide open, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He thrusts forward in time with your chanting, his lower lip quivering with desire as he pumps himself forward at a much faster pace. One of his thumbs reaches down to brush against your clit, stimulating you until you can’t speak in full sentences, let alone syllables. You grit your teeth together and beg for his load, “Fill me up, Katsuki.”

Your words mixed with the tone of your voice are what push him over the edge, the cusp of his release washing over the both of you. Bakugou’s hips stutter, sloppily fucking into you as he chases that blinding pleasure only you can provide him.

“Take it, Princess,” he murmurs into your lips as he claims you by painting your walls white, the final part of you that needed to be wiped clean.

Katsuki’s hands rest on either side of your head as he holds up his quivering body, spent from effort and emotion. You brush your thumb over the tear-stained parts of his face, clearing his skin of what remains from his vulnerable confessions, no evidence left behind. He can start anew, pretend that he never bared his soul to you only mere moments ago.

His eyes never leave you, drinking you in religiously as you blink slowly, irises soaking up every inch of your precious expression. Your pupils shrink enough for him to see the color of your irises clearly, tilting one of his hands upward so he can brush his thumb over the curve of your jaw. Your lids flutter closed at the tender sensation, losing yourself in the feel of his fingerprints.

When you blink your eyes open, you reach upward to tenderly cup his cheeks between the palms of your hands, “I need to tell you something.”

“Yeah?” he leans his head into your hand, nudging his nose over the swell of the heel. Your pulse thuds in his ears and he can tell that you’re nervous based on the pace.

Your voice is thick when you whisper the words that have always rang true in your heart, but you’ve never said aloud because they seemed so pointless. He hears them every day from citizens, begging him for autographs and screaming his name when they see him on patrol. You’ve been afraid that they would fall hollow on deaf ears, futile and empty. But your heart squeezes within your chest and you know that it doesn’t matter anymore. The two of you have learned how precious a few moments can be.

“You’re my hero, Katsuki.”

Your thumbs run back and forth over the skin of his cheeks, seeking out the heat and also providing him what you hope feels like comfort. His cock twitches within the walls of your aching cunt, mouth hung open slightly, just enough for you to see the pink of his tongue.

You nod, sniffling as tears press hot into the back of your eyelids, “You’ve always been my hero, no matter what. Nothing will change that.”

Bakugou kisses the inside of your palm before leaning forward to press his lips to yours. This kiss is slow, deliberate, as if he’s trying to communicate something between the volley of your tongues. You lean up and wrap your arm around his neck when he snakes his hands up the expanse of your back. He’s fully pressed into you now, your bodies flush with one another as he kisses you.

Secret words are passed back and forth from your throat to his, emotion swelling in your chest, begging to burst the longer he’s pressed into you. You curl your hand into his hair, anchoring him to you despite the growing heat billowing in the lack of space between your bodies. Bakugou licks at the seam of your lips and you let him in, you’ll always let him in, your hips rolling forward to meet him at every juncture of your bones.

And that’s how you fall asleep that night, entwined in such a way that neither of you can tell where one of you ends and the other begins.

　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　

a/n: i hope you guys enjoyed it! drop me an ask if you did!! 

[exhaustedfander]

Oh, Bi the Way [Analogical]

Here’s a fun little Analogical highschool au where Virgil comes out as Bi to Logan. Reblogs and feedback are really appreciated! 

a03 link

word count: 2,351

Virgil paces tight circles in his bedroom, his hands woven in his hair as his mind runs rampant. He glances out the window, the daylight golden and fading outside. Logan will be here soon, he realizes with dread, his heart hammering even faster at the thought.

I shouldn’t be this fucking nervous, he thinks to himself as if most things in life don’t make him anxious. Virgil’s been plagued by horrible anxiety for most of his life, but this really isn’t something that should be putting the pit in his stomach that it is.

But he’s been hiding something – is still hiding something and it’s so goddamn stupid. It really isn’t a big deal. He should be able to go ahead and say it no problem. Except Virgil’s stupid brain has to make things so fucking complicated, doesn’t it?! It has to mess with him and make him think that maybe people are going to freak out and maybe it’s going to be a total disaster.

He’s bisexual.

Yeah, yeah. He knows it isn’t a big deal. Tons of people are queer, and he just happens to be one of them. For fuck’s sake, his best friend Logan is gay! It’s not his fault that no one had told him there was an in-between. He was anxious enough about crushes on girls so once he figured out boys too? Well, he didn’t have the balls to tell anyone.

Sometimes he blamed it on the fact that he grew up in the foster system. Getting shuffled around from home to home the way he did, he didn’t exactly have a chance to get a good set of parents to teach him the ins-and-outs of the LGBTQ+ community. He was a fourteen-year-old getting bounced around, not even trying to get close to any of the people whose care he was under because in a blink of an eye, they’d be gone.

And then he’d gotten adopted by the Knight-Hart’s. It was still what Virgil was probably the most grateful for in his life. He was fourteen-in-a-half, having lost hope of being adopted years ago and yet here he was, brought into the home of two of the sweetest people he’d ever met.

It’s so stupid – Virgil’s parents are gay! He’s got two dads and he can’t even tell them he’s bi? Why does his brain hate him so much?! His fathers’ have helped him so much in the few years he’s been in their care, bringing more happiness and joy into his life than he’d known in so long. His Pops is always making dad jokes that Virgil can pretend he despises all he wants, but really, they crack him up. He’s such a kind, good-hearted guy who’s been nothing but supportive of Virgil since day one. His dad is no different in that respect, loving just the same but with a bit more bravado and eccentricities. What can he say? His dad’s an actor and his flair for the dramatics fail to surprise Virgil any longer.

He loves them. He really loves them but it’s still so hard to think about coming out to them, let alone Logan. God, Logan’s going to be there anytime now!

Virgil continues his pacing, trying his best to steady his breathing. If he can muster up the courage, he’s going to tell him. Virgil’s going to come out to his best friend.

After everything the pair’s been through, Logan deserves to know. Virgil met John in the beginning of high school, a time where he found it almost impossible to make friends of any kind. Virgil’s anxiety and self-doubt made having a mere successful conversation feel like an accomplishment of some kind. He didn’t think he’d ever get the chance to have a true friend, let alone a best friend. But when he met Logan that all changed.

Despite Virgil’s hesitations, they got along famously right away. Although Logan was far stiffer and more out of touch with pop-culture than anyone Virgil had ever met (Seriously, he pronounced “fam” as fahm) he was also an incredibly smart and interesting person who Virgil was proud to know. Logan could tell him so many interesting facts about outer-space or the ocean and was always really good about handling Virgil’s anxiety. Virgil had never met someone who he clicked with so instantaneously before, they just got each other. Even if they were spending time together doing separate things, Virgil was thankful to merely be in Logan’s presence. He kept him grounded.

So, of course he fell hard for him. it’s not like Virgil doesn’t know that there’s a change that his feelings are reciprocated, it isn’t impossible. Just unlikely, and damn does it sure feel impossible. Virgil’s been spending the nearly four years he’s known Logan trying to convince himself that he’s straight as an arrow and doesn’t feel anything for Logan – neither of which things are true, of course.

The two friends are going to the same college, so it isn’t like Virgil’s gonna have any room to breathe and get other his feelings. He’s been dancing around things for so long, and frankly it’s getting kind of exhausting. Virgil isn’t expecting Logan to feel the same way – god, he’s never been that much of an optimist in all his life – but telling him is something Virgil’s decided he has to go through with.

If he can manage to muster up the courage, that is.

Logan arrives, punctual as always and beautiful as ever. Logan’s the only kid Virgil’s ever met who wears a tie almost daily, claiming such attire is an attribute of his “seriousness.” Hah, as if Virgil doesn’t know about his unicorn onesie, not that he’d tell anyone about it. He’ll let Logan keep up the “serious” act, if that’s what he wants. It suits him, anyhow.

Virgil’s going to give it a minute, he decides, and they start to do their homework in relative silence. This is no oddity for the pair, they often spend time over at each other’s homes after school to do work or catch up or both. But Virgil’s heart isn’t usually beating out of his chest when he’s doing his fucking APLit homework. He told himself he was just going to take a minute to collect his thoughts before breaking the silence, but god, it’s been like thirty minutes at least and he hasn’t said anything and he’s getting too fucking nervous and he doesn’t think he can do this and –

“Virgil?” Logan’s voice cuts through the haze of his mind, voice calm and collected.

“Uh – yeah?” Virgil replies dumbly, his eyes snapping up to meet Logan’s gaze. Logan shuts his book, moving from his spot at Virgil’s desk to sitting beside him on his bed, a look of concern etched into his face.

“Are you alright? You seem distressed, and you’ve been reading that same page for over five minutes now.”

Shit, Virgil hadn’t even noticed. Logan’s question has offered him the perfect Segway to what he wants to say, it couldn’t have been laid out better. Except…Virgil can’t do this. He’s too nervous, and his hands are trembling, and this is going to be an absolute train-wreck.

“I’m fine,” Virgil mutters, hoping Logan will just drop it. He just wants to burry himself in his own cowardice, thank you very much. “Just a little distracted, I guess.”

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you,” Logan’s voice is even and steady, so the opposite of how Virgil’s feeling, “but you appear to be very nervous. For several days now, your anxiety has appeared to be heightened. I didn’t want to voice my…” Logan swallows thickly, “…concerns, fearing it might only worsen things. But I must confess, I’m getting a bit worried.”

Well fuck, is all Virgil can think. Logan, in the absolute sweetest way possible, has backed him into a corner. Evidently, Logan’s been worried about him and the thought makes his stomach turn. He hadn’t even realized he was acting any more nervous than he usually does.

"I don’t suppose you won’t just drop this for a while?” Virgil asks with a fleeting hope that maybe he can escape this in one piece.

“I’m afraid not.” Virgil sighs. It figures.

“Okay. Okay, you’re going to think this is so fucking stupid.”

“I highly doubt that. When was the last time I reacted in such a way to you telling me something?” Logan makes a good point, as Virgil can’t remember a recent instance.

“I mean, sure, but this is really dumb, L. I’ve kinda been trying to tell you this for forever, but, big surprise, I’m really anxious about it.” Virgil flinches as he feels a hand settle onto his shoulder, seeing the sincere concern in Logan’s eyes.

“Whatever it is you want to tell me, I’m here, Virgil. I’m your friend and your fears are not baseless or dumb. It’s okay to be afraid.” Virgil’s pulse hammers in his ears as he nods, taking a shaky breath.

“Yeah alright…s-so uh, I’m bi.” Virgil nervously ducks his head, his eyes landing on the carpet. It’s not like it would make sense for Logan to react poorly, but like, what if he did?

“Well, thank you for telling me, Virgil. How long have you –.”

“I dunno, a while,” Virgil interrupts, still not looking at Logan, “See? I told you, stupid.” “I never said stupid. You aren’t stupid for not coming out until now, there is no time limit or restrictions when it comes to identity. I’m glad you told me, Virge. Thank you, I know that it can be very hard to do so.” Virgil finally feels confident enough to meet Logan’s eyes, a lopsided smile forming on his face.

“Thanks, man. That kinda makes me feel better. You’re, uh, the first person I’ve told. I wanted it to be you who I told first, that is. Cuz, you know, we’re…” Virgil hesitates, struggling through the words “such good friends.” The pressure on his shoulder reseeds and is replaced at his hand where Logan has laced their fingers together. Virgil feels a shiver run down his spine.

“Is that all you wanted to tell me, or was there something else as well?” Virgil can feel the heat radiating off of him, knowing his cheeks are going crimson. Fuck, fuck Logan knows. He knows and he’s pitying him.

“I – uhh –,” Virgil sputters, incredibly dignified.

“I only ask because you still seem to be rather nervous. I’m not trying to provoke you and I apologize if that’s what I’ve made you to believe. I’m –.”

“I’m also, uh, kinda really in love with you.” Virgil can’t help it, it just comes up like word vomit. He can’t believe he just said that! He’s sure any second now Logan’s going to let go of his hand and push him away. He’s sure Logan will leave and never come back, and he’ll have lost his best friend.

“You…you are?” Logan doesn’t sound outraged or disgusted. He sounds relieved.

“Uh, y-yeah. Shit, did I just make things weird?” From the way Virgil finds Logan taking a fistful of Virgil’s hoodie and pulling him into a kiss, he’s inclined to believe that no, he didn’t just make things weird. The embrace is clumsy at first, their teeth knocking before Virgil’s hands are laced in Logan’s hair, melting into this kiss.

“I love you too, in case that wasn’t clear,” Logan says breathlessly as they part, their foreheads pressed together. Virgil laughs, relief washing over him in waves.

“Fuck, L, I thought I was about to lose you as a friend or something. I never entertained the thought that…”

“That I’ve been in love with you for years?” Virgil’s lips curled into a smirk.

“Years, huh?” He asks, as if he probably hasn’t loved Logan for just as long unknowingly.

“And here I’ve been, suffering in the belief that you were heterosexual. And you know my stance on feelings.” Virgil laughs, kissing Logan again and wondering how quickly you can become addicted to something because holy shit, this is amazing.

“Yeah, yeah, their “the bane of your existence” and all that.”

“Priestley.”

“Full disclosure, there’s no way I’m finishing my homework now,” Virgil says. Logan swats him.

“You horrid delinquent.” Virgil chuckles again, throwing his arms around Logan and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. For two boys who claim to be averse to most physical contact, they seem to be enjoying themselves a fair amount.

“Okay, this is probably a stupid question, but are we a thing now?”

“Are you asking to be my boyfriend?”

“Maaaaybe.”

“Well then I accept. I find your presence to be tolerable.” Virgil snorts, holding Logan closer than he ever has and never wanting to let him go before a thought comes to mind.

“Hey, L?”

“Mm?”

“You wanna stay for dinner and help me come out to my dads?” Virgil can’t believe it, but for once in his life he’s feeling brave. Logan’s made him feel brave.

“I would be more than happy to offer my assistance.” Virgil grins. “It’s gonna be great because they already love you, I mean, you’re so fuckin’ smart, and nice, and cute, and –.” “You’re rambling, Virge.” Virgil pulls away to see the flush on Logan’s cheeks.

“Aww, you’re embarrassed!”

“I absolutely am not.”

“Lo?” “Yes, Virgil?” The fondness in Logan’s tone was just about to kill him it was so sweet. Virgil kisses him again, long and slow, his hands planted firmly above Logan’s waist. His boyfriend – oh my god, he has a boyfriend! – continues to lean in, even as he pulls away. There’s no way Virgil’s ever going to recover from the cuteness.

“I love you.” Logan sighs contently.

“I love you too, Virge.”

“Virgil, honey, dinner’s ready!” Virgil’s Pops calls from downstairs. Virgil and Logan share a somewhat nervous, lovesick glance.

"Let’s go tell my dad’s I’m bi as fuck and have an insanely nerdy boyfriend,” Virgil says as he gets up from the bed, earning a chuckle from Logan. Logan grips onto his hand.

“Lead the way.”

=+=

[adonis-koo]

tease

| 5 |

↳ Summary: You came with the intentions of your best friend landing a job as a stripper. You never meant to catch the eyes of the king stripper of the establishment- Jeon Jungkook, yourself. With what was supposed to be a harmless way of paying off college debt faster you find yourself falling into a very odd and passionate relationship with your new mentor. Between infidelity, passion and jealousy there’s never a dull moment at Cherry Bomb.

↳ Pairing: Stripper!Jungkook/Reader

↳ Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, drama, slice of life, relationship problems without the relationship, reader is such a shy baby protect her, MUTUAL pining, so much sexual frustration,  

Word count: 10k

Previous | Next

// Playlist //

Song Mood

Tags: Drying humping, dirty talk, unintentional exhibitionism, sub/dom overtones jungkook being a jealous on the down low

Warning: This story touches on both sexual harassment and abuse, please read with caution if any of these things are triggers to you. Additional warnings will be given when a chapter presents them.

“Wow…” It was all you could manage to say as you clasped the clipboard in shock, there had to be over thirty people on this list. And they were all for you…? You understood to a degree, despite your humbleness that people enjoyed your performance due to the money thrown at you. But you didn’t expect so many people requesting to schedule you for private dancing.

As if sensing you’re slightly overwhelmed aura Jungkook gently pulled the clipboard from your grasp, the content smile tugged on his lips as he hummed, “Mhm, all for you babygirl. I told you guys would be lining up.”

You found yourself bashfully rubbing the back of your neck making him laugh as he set the clipboard down, leaning over the counter where it had become routine for you both to talk before heading separate ways until he pulled you aside for your training, “Don’t get too ahead of yourself just yet baby,” He clacked his tongue in amusement, “You don’t have to schedule anything until you’re one hundred percent confident in your own ability. I can still go over the ropes of scheduling private dances after practice though if you don’t have anywhere to be.”

Your first initial thought was a big no, of course, the idea of being on stage by yourself, for only one person...Just the idea felt so intimate it almost made you blush, but you also had kept Jungkook’s word in the back of your mind, if this was how you’d be making most of your money then you’d be dumb to not take the chance.

And of course Jungkook was right, you’d have to become more comfortable before you actually do any private dancing, but it wouldn’t hurt to learn the ropes, meanwhile, the more you knew the more you became acquainted with the idea, the less opposed you’d be to it in time, “No I don’t have class until after lunch today so I’m free. Can we get something to eat though? Practice is so miserable on an empty stomach.” You groaned as you laid your chin on your spread out arms with a whine.

Truth be told you were too tired to do anything besides roll out of bed just in time to shower and head out, but breakfast was important to you regardless and just as you said, practice was miserable when you were hungry. 

Jungkook cracked a smile as he ruffled your hair, gaining a whiney humph from you as he rolled his eyes, despite the amusement that lit them up, “Sure babygirl. Anyways you better get to practice before Hoseok gets on to me for distracting you,” He sent a wink your way before letting his hand drop to your chin giving it a little squeeze, “I’m working on a routine for tonight so just head back to the room at 9:30 okay?”

“M’kay.” You yawned out with a stretch as you nodded. Jungkook had rounded the bar, passing by your chair before suddenly stopping, making you tilt your head as he turned around, his eyes flickering around the room before settling on you again as if debating something in his mind.

You raised your brows in silent question making him speak up, “Just some advice but...I’m sure you’ve figured out jealousy runs rampant out here baby. Just ignore anyone who gives you shit and above all else,” He paused for a moment, making you swallow at his expression, you could tell he was serious, “Don’t pick fights. It’s not worth it.”

It was quiet for a moment before you sighed, shifting in your seat as you muttered, “Like I have an argumentative bone in my body.” You had said it mainly to lighten the mood he had set so suddenly, and just as you hoped you watched the tension in his shoulders relax a little as he cracked a smirk. 

Pushing his hands into the pockets of his grey sweatpants as he tilted his head, “I don’t know babygirl, I can’t help but wonder if you secretly are.” 

You had squinted your eyes at him as the pout twisted onto your lips making his smirk pulled into a cheeky smile as you huffed, he was such a tease it almost frustrated you, “Let’s not find out then, right?”

“Right.” Jungkook nodded, he had turned around shaking his head but you could tell he was still smiling as he headed to the private room, asshole. After Jungkook left you pulled yourself from your pouty position before making your way to Hoseok who had been leading your group practice of the day.

Apparently all of the soloists switched off each day for an overall practice for all fillers but you noticed Jimin, Hoseok, and Rosé often took on the class while all the others- Jungkook included avoided teaching like the plague. You had only shared one full class with Jungkook teaching and he had been downright brutal on all the girls, even though he didn’t speak to you the whole time half the fillers glared at you enough to send your body into shock that day as if him being harsh was somehow your fault.

Hoseok however, was more of a fun teacher, he wasn’t any less harsh but he had been gifted with a much softer way of correcting the girls. You usually filed towards the back of the room while following along, you weren’t very confident in any sort of combinations or choreography without messing up, being towards the back of the room allowed you to breathe and just focus on more of the sensuality.

It had been a bit difficult at first, your brain had been hardwired for so long on the technique of every move that the quality strippers used came very foreign to you, you found yourself trying to focus on it more days then less even if you messed up several times. Even towards the back, you could hear the occasional snickers around you from the other girls but you had begun learning to ignore them. 

It was a cold crowd in this room and maybe you were finally not letting it bother you. In fact, what was their problem? You had been getting constant looks thrown at you the entire practice, even more so than normal, had it been because of last night? You assumed it had to be normal for strippers when it came to money being thrown onto them, right? That was usually a staple, so what was the problem? In fact, it wasn’t even that much, you had made a whole 30 bucks last night, that looked like an impressive stack if you ignored that they were one-dollar bills. 

“Alright everyone, five minute break,” Hoseok called out, running a hand through his messy hair as the practice quickly disassembled into everyone going for water and phone breaks. 

You did the same as you sighed walking up the bar as you drank a large refreshing gulp of water, your feet pulsed in pain every step of the way as you winced, the tenderness of the balls of your feet felt raw and you were positive you had at least three blisters. Adjusting to stripper heels had been taxing on your feet and you shuddered at remembering your next rehearsal later that day, all of the calloused you had gained from regular dancing rendering useless. Sighing you shifted your weight on your feet as you winced, maybe you’d ask Rosé later if she had any advice on how to adjust to the heels quicker? Or was this something you’d just have to endure until your feet properly calloused?

Taking one more breath you began to make your way back to your original spot as you felt several glares thrown your way, glancing between people you focused back down trying to maintain a low profile. Your foot suddenly caught on something causing you to gasp as you stumbled before hitting the ground, your hands catching yourself forcing pain to flush inside them as you breathed out a wince turning around at the sound of a snicker, “What a good reflection of your performance from last night huh. Sloppy.”

You glanced up at the girl, all too familiar with her even if she rarely spared you a glance- as if you weren’t worth her time to begin with most days. Chan Hee was apparently one of the top fillers and one of the biggest rumored picks for becoming a soloist later into the year. Or so you had heard from Seulgi with the few friends she managed to make here, she was also ruthless to ‘competition’ and had even gotten three of the other girls to leave the club- or so it was rumored. 

Chan Hee was, without a doubt one of the coldest of people you had ever heard of, it was like she lived the popular high school girl trope even though everyone here was well beyond their years in school. Your expression hardened and your brows pressed together as you heard a few girls around you snicker at her words as you stood up.

“And yet they still threw money at me.” You clacked your tongue catching a brief scowl from her as Jungkook’s words rang in your mind, unfortunately he didn’t seem to quite realize that no matter how hard you tried, just your very presence provoked the girls here. Still though, you weren’t here to fight, but after becoming acquainted with the initial shock of your harsh surroundings you quickly adapted, you hated confrontation, but if being a dancer taught you anything- it’s that you couldn’t afford to be a pushover in this setting. 

“I just have to ask L/n,” Chan Hee called out, not giving up so easily, as if she was the one trying to provoke you into doing something, or maybe she was hoping to get you kicked out, you weren’t sure, but you weren’t going to feed into this, “What did you do to convince Jungkook? I mean I think we all know you’re too much of a frigid bitch to give good head, so was it money? Did you blackmail him?” She followed behind as she mocked an innocent questioning tone.

Pausing you could feel everyone’s eyes on you as you swallowed thickly, your words caught in your throat at the idea. Did everyone really assume you were the one who convinced Jungkook to take you in? Did they really not understand how he worked? You had only went through one group lesson with him while you were positive some of the girls here had endured dozens. He didn’t take people out of pity, that was the one thing you had come to terms with. Jungkook wanted you because he saw potential in you, you had nothing to do with his choice.

“Has it ever occured to you…” You spoke up before finally turning around, watching her tall figure peer down at you like you were a speck of dust as she crossed her arms, “That not everyone sucked dick to get on here? Maybe you should’ve become a prostitute if that’s your go too to get what you want.” You shrugged coolly and you could hear several people choke back a laugh, Chan Hee’s glare suddenly boiled down into you causing you to take a hesitant step back, your expression becoming a little cautious. 

“Bold words for a little trainee,” She sneered out stepping closer to you and you watched her fist clench, turning white as if physically restraining herself, “You better watch yourself L/n.” With that last vague threat she snapped around as you watched her walk away the crowd of people parting from her as you rolled your eyes before sighing. Why did everyone have to hate you? You rarely ever talked or caused trouble, you hadn’t even done anything to warrant any hate.

Seulgi had hurried up to your side, anger burning in her eyes as if she wanted to incinerate Chan Hee’s back as she walked away, “What did that bitch say to you? I’ll knock her on her ass just say the word Y/n!” 

“Seulgi I’m fine!” You suddenly grabbed her forearm as she attempted to launch herself in Chan Hee’s direction like a bat out of hell, your expression quickly subsiding to one with worry as you knew your bestfriend could get a little...violent at times, “She was just being a bitch- nothing unusual at Cherry Bomb.” It was true, for the fraction of nice girls you had met here, they were easily overpowered by others who only had their eyes on their goal of becoming the best stripper and they would do anything to get there.

All rules and morals cast aside.

Seulgi gritted her teeth before sighing exasperatedly, “You’re too nice Y/n,” maybe she was right, but you had already stepped on Chan Hee’s toes and technically- that wasn’t even your fault she was the one who had provoked you and then proceeded to get angry because you chose to defend yourself rather than stand there and take it, “I can’t stand her she talks shit about everyone here, Hoseok got pissed at me Wednesday because I ended up smacking her right across the jaw when she tried to drag you.” She admitted with a mutter.

Your lips parted and you were sure your eyes went wide, you had tried asking Seulgi about what happened Wednesday and why she had seemed so brooding but she refused to ever part with why her and Hoseok had fought...she...she got in trouble with her mentor for you? You felt a surge of warmth at her defensiveness for you but you ended up frowning, “Thanks but…” You glanced down at your feet, “You really can’t do that Seulgi…’

“Like hell I can!” Seulgi snapped back as if bristled at the idea of not being able to defend her friends. She was always more quick tempered then you ever were and while it was sweet, it was also not a good start for her either.

Frowning you finally let go of her as you glanced away, “You can but you shouldn’t, people here already assume I can’t fight my own battles because Jungkook keeps intervening, as much as I appreciate it, you shouldn’t defend me either. Besides you got in a lot of trouble with Hoseok over that, I’m never gonna prove myself here if I don’t do it on my own.”

Seulgi sighed herself, frowning as she crossed her arms, knowing you were right but still not enjoying that it wasn’t just a statement but also a fact, “Fine- but if she starts trying to sabotage you that ain't gonna fly by me without notice babe.”

“Well let’s not jinx anything. I doubt she’ll stoop that low.” You rolled your eyes as you both laughed. Hearing Hoseok call everyone back into their places you both parted ways as practice continued. 

After finishing up with regular practice you had gathered your bag up before yawning, checking the time before heading to the back, noticing your step had fallen in line with Hoseok and Seulgi’s, “Nice job by the way Y/n,” You glanced up at Hoseok in surprise at the compliment, had you been improving? His lips tilted into a small smile as he clarified his words, ‘With Chan Hee- I mean.” Your expression went sheepish at his words as your gaze shot to the floor, he had heard that!? Why hadn’t he stopped it was the better question?

“O-oh um! I didn’t realize you saw that…” You murmured fiddling with your fingers as you felt conflicted, was he going to tell Jungkook what happened? You really didn’t want to hear a lecture from him this morning and it wasn’t even your fault!

Hoseok seemed cracked a smile before patting your shoulder, “Y’know- I’m not gonna lie Y/n, I wasn’t sure about you at first but you can’t let people push you around, you did good.” Suddenly his words clicked as you silently understood, Hoseok must’ve had some reservations about you and your gentle nature with this kind of job. 

Thinking back on Seulgi’s words that must’ve really not helped your situation in Hoseok���s eyes, had he not stepped in to see if you could actually defend yourself? Whatever the case may be you obviously did the right thing to raise your status in Hoseok’s eyes.

Rather then feeling pleased with his words you felt nothing but the opposite as the wave of frustration built inside you, you had been right. There was a lot of people here doubting you because not only your soft nature but because of the people who stuck up for you. It wasn’t their fault though, this was on you. If you wanted to gain any respect you were going to have to get a thicker skin. 

You made a silent vow to yourself before entering into the soloist room only to find Jimin had kept catcalling Jungkook on stage, who had the world's most annoyed look on his face as he continued his routine ignoring the blonde. Setting your bag down the other soloist’s greeted you as you sat down in the semi formed circle.

“Hey Y/n,” Seokjin sat down beside you as you nodded with a smile to greet him, eyes focused on the stage where Jungkook was working, he looked vastly different at the moment on stage then when he was performing, no smile or smirk was present and his brows were pressed together as he rubbed the back of his head pausing his movement, as if trying to figure out a smoother transition between moves, “Would you mind if I asked for a favor.”

“Hm?” You glanced to Seokjin with raised brows. Before he could speak, though he had also gained Rosé’s attention as her lips coiled into a teasing smile, “Favor huh? Better make sure Guk doesn’t hear you.”

Seokjin glared sharply at his old trainee who clacked her lips and winked playfully between you both as you flusteredly looked at your lap, that wasn’t why Seokjin was here right? There was no doubt his face was hand carved by God himself and just the idea was making you blush like a preteen girl talking to her first crush, “Ignore her, I was wondering if you’d be able to help Namjoon and I with dancing? I mean we get the overall concept but a little more detailed structure would be nice...You don’t have to say yes, though if you’re schedule is too crazy- I can understand first hand what it’s like being in college while working here.” He gave you a commiserating smile.

You perked up though at his words before giving him a beaming smile of your own, you were always enthused about teaching, you wouldn’t dub yourself an amazing teacher but you’d be more than happy to help where you could, “Of course! I’d be more than happy to help! I have an hour break before my art history class if you guys could make it then…?” 

Seokjin’s face brightened significantly as he smiled brightly mirroring your own, his teeth could’ve sparkled easily and your face was heating up again at being so close to someone so beautiful, “I can add you into our group chat and we can talk altogether there.” You nodded before giving him your number.

Rosé had suddenly perked up as well though as she enthusiastically replied, “Oh! I should add you into my groupchat as well! Good idea Jinnie.” Seokjin shot her a glare at the nickname making her cheekily smile again as she leaned back on her hands. Just then the music from the speakers paused as you all glanced back towards Jungkook who groaned, jumping down from the stage as he ran a hand through his hair looking frustrated, eyes shooting to you as his lips quirked up slightly only for it to quickly fall back down as he glanced to Seokjin who’s shoulder brushed against yours though you hadn’t noticed.

His brows furrowed again as his irritated expression returned before suddenly sitting down next to you, what you didn’t anticipate was the harsh grip on your waist before dragging you into his lap making you squeak out in surprise, face burning hot red as you squirmed, “Jungkook!” he ignored your cry instantly trying to claw your way out of his grip but he wasn’t budging. You swallowed with another whimpered as he wrapped his arms tightly around you, forcing you to press back into his chest as you finally wilted, covering your face. What did you do to warrant that?

“Did you have a good practice?” Jungkook asked, acting like he didn’t just force you into his lap like a cat into water making everyone stare him while trying to cover their laughs at his obvious broody expression that reeked of jealousy unbeknownst to you. 

You didn’t reply for a brief second before letting out a small whine, “Jungkook…” you shifted in his lap before trying to pull out of his arms, it was still too early in the morning to be put in this position. What was his problem? Was it because he was struggling with his choreography? 

You felt a surge of worry cast over you, watching the large taut muscles flex on his biceps as he squeezed you tighter gaining another squeak from you, “I said: did you have a good practice?” His voice became stern and gritted making you involuntarily rub your thighs together as you let out another soft whine.

Unable to resist his commanding tone as you nodded, your hands looking small as they wrapped around his veiny forearms, tracing patterns into his warm skin as you murmured,  “It was fine, fillers are still harsh and I still look like look as stiff as a bored, nothing any different from any other day.” You tried to keep yourself from squirming at the feeling of his nose burying into the crook of your neck, not used to such affection from nearly anyone. 

“That’s not what the crowd last night was saying,” You jumped at the sudden nip of his teeth in the crook of your neck, you didn’t think your cheeks could get anymore red but Jungkook just loved proving you wrong, “Have some confidence babygirl.”

Seokjin had muffled a laugh at how tense your shoulders were and how desperate you were trying to not claw out of Jungkook’s grip, as if knowing you’d only make things worse if you tried, “You gonna let her go? Squeeze any harder and you’re gonna break her Guk.” Seokjin couldn’t resist the snort that escaped his lips as Jungkook suddenly pressed you closer to himself, his glare drilling into his elder. 

You only store at the ground as if trying to focus on not imploding and Seokjin, as much as he watched in amusement knew he probably just made your day a whole lot worse with Jungkook, “Come on babygirl, let’s get started for training,” You never realized how much you had been holding your breath until you exhaled in relief as he let go of you, letting you stand up. Rather then taking you to the other side of the room Jungkook had stopped at the steps of the stage making you furrow your brows, “We’re working on solo skills today, you’ll never get used to being up here by yourself until you start doing it.’

The idea made you nervous as you frowned, fiddling with your fingers as you glanced towards your feet. He was right of course, especially if you would start taking on private dancing, and you’d expect to do it soon given your bills were racking up and between your small tip and check both from Cherry Bomb it wasn’t gonna cut it. No matter how shy you were, you needed money and you already stripped once, there was no reason to back out now.

“I guess…” You hummed, lips quivering slightly, still a bit apprehensive at the idea, not to mention you were in a room full of soloist’s, really good soloists, might you add. Albeit everyone here was surprisingly welcoming and you doubt they judge you, but still.

Jungkook whirled around, eyes landing on you as he curved a brow, “How many times do I have to tell you baby? No ‘I guess’, you’ll be fine.” He stepped up as you trailed behind, sporting a tired pout before he started throwing together a combination for you to work on.

It didn’t matter how many times you did it, being on stage on your own was still scary and you kept messing up before whining and stamping your feet in frustration, Jungkook had been sat down in a metal fold up chair usually used for clients as he groaned, letting his manspread further as he rested his hands on his thighs while leaning forward, “Who cares if you mess up baby? It’s inevitable on stage, this isn’t like at your studio, if you mess up keep going and if you forget choreography make up your own until you can remember it again.” You sighed in frustration, at the very least you seemed to be getting the rhythm of sensuality involved for dancing, but when one thing becomes accomplished another problem becomes apparent. 

Jungkook started the music over again as you retried, you had managed to remember the whole combination, rolling down to the floor before thrusting your hips into the air, “Higher Y/n!” Jungkook called out over the music making you instantly try to achieve what he was looking for, “That’s not higher.” He sighed leaning back in his seat, making you huff as you tried once more but upon not hearing his validation you dropped your ass back to the floor in frustration.

“Just show me!” You called back, annoyance flooding your veins at his pickiness, how much higher could you possibly go? One thing you had found that worked between you both was anytime you struggled between movement you’d ask him to demonstrate so you could try and imitate it. It saved you both a lot of frustration with one another most days.

Jungkook sighed in exasperation as he stood up walking up to the stage before pulling himself up, you were about to sit up before he held out a hand halting you, “Stay,” his voice lowered slightly making you frown but you did as told, a little confused as to why but saying nothing. 

It wasn’t until he suddenly dropped to his knee’s slotting his hips between your legs that you had a vague idea of where this was going, squeaking you tried to squirm to get away from him, his hands suddenly lunging for your hips was you pleaded, “Wait! Wait! Wait!”

“Like this,” He suddenly pulled your hips into the air making you whimper, your cheeks burning as your back arched uncomfortably off the ground, you could definitely feel the difference but still. He didn’t have to show it like that! Having your legs open and him kneeling between them with his hands on your hips had your body burning with wet shame as you suddenly covered your face, your mind going blank as you tried to close your legs only to be stopped by his own body.

“Nu’uh, we’ve been through this before,” Jungkook instantly lunged down, pulling your hands from your face as he pressed your wrists into the ground as you whined, wiggling beneath him, “Be a be a good girl and look at me.” Your eyes were squinted in shyness and your cheeks were bright red, hair fanned beneath you as you watched Jungkook peer down at you as the predatory smirk started to coil on his lips, “Now move with my hips.”

He purposely thrusted his hips into yours making you jolt as you let an auditory whimper leave your lips, you were beyond embarrassed about this situation and not only that but you could feel everyone watching the both of you in amusement as you felt the hard imprint of his cock against your thigh. Jungkook started out slow letting his hips languidly roll with yours as he guided them higher, his eyes lidded with pleasure at the feeling of his strained, swollen members brushing against the soft skin skin of your thighs that had been exposed today from your shorts.

Fuck. You had forgotten how big he was, and even in the brief moment you had sat on his lap when you first did auditioned you only had barely felt it before skittishly shooting away from him. Now he was grinding it against you on purpose as his hips began to move faster, making your own lift higher not only for the sake of getting the movement but now in hopes of keeping him pressed against you.

“Are you wet?” Jungkook suddenly asked, pressing his tongue against his cheek as he parted his lips, purposely rubbing his shaft down your slit making you gasp louder than you ever wanted too as you closed your eyes, your hips beginning to go off rhythm as they impatiently began to buck into his, “Is that pretty pussy soaked babygirl?” 

Something about his nickname for you had your head spinning and your body burning intensely as you let out a hitched breath, feeling him press himself harder into your throbbing little clit as you tried to keep from strangling out a moan, “J-Jungkook…”

“When do you think they’re gonna fuck?” Jimin sat down by Rosé as he popped a can of soda, glancing to her in curiosity as they both watched the lewd display on stage, Jungkook ruthlessly dryhumping himself on his trainee- a bad habit that he was beginning to form, you looked pitiful beneath him with red cheeks and shy eyes but you were so obedient as your hips dragged along his.

Rosé snorted a laugh as they both exchanged glances, “I’m surprised they’ve lasted this long- tell you what, if they don’t fuck before Seasonella I’ll dare them at the afterparty.” They both glanced back at the stage where you had let out a whiney moan hips squirming before Jungkook finally grabbed your thighs roughly, holding them still as his hips sped up.

Jimin raised his brows as he gave a smile on his own, “You think she’s gonna get picked for Seasonella?” He was surprised at his mentors words but then again, you had a promising future ahead, it really wasn’t all too much of a long shot when he really thought about it.

“It’s hard telling right now but even if she doesn’t get on the list-” Rosé licked her lips in thought before they both glanced at you both again, “You really think Jungkook is gonna leave her here on her own?” 

“You know what?” Jimin clacked his tongue, eyeing you both from his seated position casually as Jungkook sat up on his knees, head hung back and eyes shut as his hips slowly rolled into yours, heavily focused on his impending orgasm, Jimin couldn’t say he was surprised at the outcome of this situation, “Fair point.”

Jungkook held your thighs open and his throbbing cock kept hitting against your clit in all the right ways that had your back arching painfully and pathetic whimpers and moans escaping your lips, “Fuck.” You let out another small moan as you clenched around nothing but air as your body was beginning to teeter on the edge of it’s orgasm.

Lunging down Jungkook caged you between his arms, all sense having left his body as he let his lips drag down the lobe of your ear, giving all sorts of kitten licks and nips between his words, “Mmm I can feel how wet you are babygirl- feels so good on my cock. I could just strip you ass naked and show everyone just how good my little girl is.” 

Your body was practically spazzing at his words, his cock hitting against the sweet spot of your clit that had you whimpering as you wrapped your legs around his waist, “R-right there! Please! Please Jungkook.” You couldn’t even escape the quiet whimpers from your lips as you tried to wrap your arms around his neck, his hands suddenly pinned them back down as he let his tongue drag down your neck a smirk pressing into your skin.

“Right there?” He dragged his words out as he pressed his swollen cock back down onto your sweet spot letting his shaft rub over it again and again making you let out a breathy moan while rapidly nodding, you could feel it. You were so close you could almost cry from how badly your body needed this release, “Are you gonna be my good girl and come for me?” He asked letting his lips drag against your ear once more, all you needed was one more thrust- you could feel it. Your body burned so harshly and your mind already buzzing with pleasure. 

“If you guys are gonna fuck can you atleast do it on the floor?” Namjoon interrupted, making you almost jumped out of your skin, your hazey pleasure instantly washing away as you squirmed beneath Jungkook, embarrassed beyond words at the realization of where you were, it was almost too much for you to bare as you looked away. 

As if still in domineering mode Jungkook had groaned but kept the majority of your body- despite still being fully dressed- covered with his own body, feeling the harsh pulse of his cock in objection as he stopped, “I was three strokes away from blowing a load, thanks for the interruption.” He gritted, ignoring the droplets of precum dripping from his angry tip while sitting up before pulling you against him, hiding your face and body against him as he turned away slightly to hide you further, sensing your mortification as he set his chin on top of your head.

“That’s an oddly specific number,” Namjoon clacked his tongue before sighing, “Just take her to the bathroom, or the wall, I don’t care. I know your freaky little inner exhibitist gets off to this but I have to get to class in an hour and I really need to practice before tonight.” Jungkook groaned but didn’t object, the moment had already been ruined and he was positive there was no amount of convincing in the world that would let him take you in the bathroom let alone in the soloist room now. 

He could practically feel your cheeks burning against his already hot skin and your arms were wrapped around him tightly in embarrassment, this was gonna take a lot of counseling on his part to get you to get over this, “Whatever, thanks for the cockblock.” He got up, holding your crumpled, embarrassed body that was still wrapped around him as he carefully stepped off stage.

Namjoon only laughed as he replied, “That’s always been my number one priority as your mentor asshole. You’d never get anything done and you know it.” you wouldn’t be surprised if Namjoon was one hundred percent serious but you could care less. You just openly let your mentor dry hump you in public all while you were begging him to continue. Too say you were embarrassed was putting it light.

“So,” Jungkook snickered, his hands purposely squeezed on your ass making you jump as you wiggled in his arms, “You did good with your thrusting babygirl- definitely impro- Ow!” He was already laughing as you smacked his shoulder harshly demanding for him to shut up multiple times before throwing your face back into his neck wanting nothing more than to embrace the icy void of death.

Setting you down he pushed the hair behind your ears as you tried to swat his hands away, “Fine I’ll stop- do you still want breakfast?” 

“I think I fucking deserve breakfast after your ‘demonstration’!”You snapped, stomping your foot with a pouty glare that was supposed to intimidate him, but all he did was laugh, brushing you off with a ruffle of hair as you scolded further.

Wrapping an arm around your shoulders he laughed, giving them a squeeze as you both walked to where your bag laid on the ground, “Sometimes experience is the best teacher,” He leaned in biting against the lobe of your ear making you squirm, “I didn’t hear you complaining.”

“Shut up.” You grumbled, crossing your arms, your face beet red but he was right, you were anything but a complainer in that situation.

----

Breakfast with Jungkook, was actually rather nice, you weren’t sure why you were so surprised but just his presence was enjoyable, he was a very outgoing guy and knew all the right things to say to keep a conversation not only going, but enjoyable as well. It was no wonder he worked the crowd at Cherry Bomb so well. 

But even so, you supposed, you both just had natural chemistry because you could tell he wasn’t in his work mode of making sure the conversation was kept in good nature or nothing became tense. His shoulders were relaxed and his smile seemed a lot more sincere than most days when you both were at work. 

It was nice, spending time with him outside of work was nice, even if you both stayed on topic most of the time on how private dancing worked. It wasn’t until the end of the breakfast that he had mentioned you didn’t always have to wear the clothes they provided while working on the floor, you looked like your whole life had changed while he laughed, “They still have to scream ‘I’m a stripper’ though, sorry baby.”

You crumpled back into your seat slightly as you sighed, “I really need to make some time to go out shopping then, I barely have anything club worthy in my wardrobe, let alone stripper worthy.” You already had a good idea of what to search for due to all the fillers style and hell even Rosé was a good example of what to look for. 

Jungkook had grabbed the receipt and his keys before stretching out, a mischievous smile on his face as he got out of the booth, “Say no more babygirl, you don’t have class until one right? Then let’s go.” Your lips parted and closed several times in silent objection as he left you behind for the cash register to pay, quickly fumbling out of the booth right after him as you huffed.

“Don’t you wanna go home and relax Jungkook? You don’t have to go out anywhere with me.” You felt slightly bad, not only did he insist on paying for your breakfast but now he was trying to go out with you? Well more like drag you out, personally it was probably you who’d rather go home and lay around with what little time you had left.

Jungkook had just finished paying before turning back to you, a smirk coiling on his face as he leaned down slightly, making you glare slightly as he hummed, “I have the rest of the day baby, don’t you wanna spend some time with your mentor?” You crossed your arms with a brooding pout as he pulled his arm around your waist forcing you closer to him as he walked out with you.

“We’re together everyday almost all day Jungkook.” You replied with a huff, but said nothing as he opened the passenger door, giving you a little push before you ultimately got in regardless. You weren’t sure what he meant by spending time with him, you saw him more in a day then you saw most your friends in a week. 

Jungkook leaned in, grabbing the seat belt and pulling it across your body making you shift in your seat as you felt your cheeks flared, “That’s at work babydoll, don’t you wanna get to know me outside of Cherry Bomb?” he leaned up to meet your eyes as he clicked your seatbelt in, a smirk adorning his lips and his hot breath tickling your already red cheeks, “Beside’s you’ll need a second opinion on if what you’re wearing is suited for work.”

“You’re such a pervert!” You finally whined, realizing that was exactly why he wanted to tag along with you, in fact, you’d go as to say he was the one dragging you out so he could see you in less than proper attire. 

Jungkook sent you a wink before shutting the door and making his way to the drivers side, the car was filled with music and banter between you both until you had arrived at the mall, where a plentiful of stores waited and apparently there was tons of places to pick from with stripper worthy attire. You were well aware of all the eyes that kept staring at you.

Girls all around you continuously sneaking glances of your mentor then you, who’s waist Jungkook wouldn't let go off the whole time, it wasn’t hard to see their judgement, you supposed you probably didn’t look good together with Jungkook, he was without a doubt the most handsome guy you had ever met and honestly? He could make any girl look ugly standing next to him. You decided to just ignore them as you browsed with him.

Turns out Jungkook was a lot better at having an eye for stripper attire then you, you had been dragged in and out of dressing rooms several times and he had almost demanded you make sure to showcase everything for him. 

Pressing your hands into your face you sighed, jumping slightly at the feeling of his hands all over the sides of your body, “All you need is a pair of fishnets to go with this baby and it’d be perfect.” This wasn’t the first time it had happened today, as soon as the dressing room was empty his hands were all over you, his lips right next to your ear. The black dress was skin tight against your body and leaving less to the imagination, the hem of the dress pressing higher on your thigh then ever considered close to appropriate. 

“Stop pressing your boner against me!” You whined out in a harsh whisper as you tried to move your ass away from him, your cheeks red at the feeling before he grabbed your hips pressing them back against his, his eyes haughty in the mirror as they kept contact with yours as he pressed his lips into your neck.

“You weren’t complaining this morning.” He snorted a laugh as you whined again in huffiness trying to break out of his grip before he let you go, waving you to go back into the dressing room as he smiled, “You’re too easy to tease babydoll that’s not my fault.”

You marched back into your room before glaring at him one last time as he cheekily smiled at you, “You don’t have to take advantage of my shyness!” shutting the door you pressed your hands into your face trying to calm the redness in your cheeks back down as you heard him laugh,

“Shut up you like my teasing and you know it.” 

Maybe you did....just maybe, you really did.

But he didn’t need to know that.

After finishing up trying on outfits you refused to let him buy you anything and due to you being broke you didn’t buy anything yourself either but at least you’d know where to look next time you got paid. Checking the time you sighed, class would be starting soon and as much as you did admittedly have fun with Jungkook you couldn’t afford to skip class. Just as you were going to speak a voice, one all too familiar cut you off and made a pit in your stomach begin to form.

“Oh so this is why you’ve been ignoring me huh?”

You instantly stepped away from Jungkook as a tsunami of guilt flooded your whole body, you had spent your whole morning with him, letting his hands grabbed everywhere on your body like you were single when you weren’t. You were on break with Hanjae and you weren’t even acting like it. 

Hanjae didn’t relent though and his eyes burned with both anger and jealousy as he marched towards you, looking ready to grab you and drag you away, he stopped short though when Jungkook suddenly stood in front of you, his stance protective and you couldn’t see his expression but something told you that was for the best as he hissed out,  “No she’s been ignoring you because you’re a controlling psychopath.” You hadn’t realized how tall Jungkook really was until he had straightened out his posture, standing to his full height as he stood, a fair few inches taller than Hanjae and a glare sporting his eyes no doubt.

You practically withered at the sight of Hanjae’s cold glare, his face becoming nothing but pure logic and anger that you only rarely saw as he stepped closer, “I don’t know who the fuck you are, but stay away from my girl. Y/n, we’re going.” 

Hanjae was in the middle of side stepping Jungkook when he was roughly grabbed by the shirt, Jungkook’s knuckles turning white as your face paled at the bloodthirsty expression he sported, you had never seen such a volatile expression on Jungkook’s face as he sneered, “Your girl?” He let out a harsh, forced laugh with no humor in his eyes as you suddenly flailed about, quickly grabbing onto his arm which was tense and muscle bulging and ready to be used, “Jungkook just let him go! It isn’t worth it.”

Jungkook’s jaw was clenched and he could chip a tooth on how hard he was gripping his teeth together his grip on Hanjae’s shirt not letting up as he snapped, “Hope you know you don’t fucking deserve to call her that.” He’s hands were strained and rigid as they uncoiled his shirt, expression twisted and anger sneering on his face as Hanjae only glared him down before reaching down to grab your arm. Jungkook was quicker though, catching his hand in a crushing grip, “Get out of here before I break every finger on your hand just for trying to touch her.” 

“Y/n,” Hanjae gritted out, his expression hardening as they glared down harshly at her, “If you know what’s good for everyone, you’ll come with me.” You swallowed thickly, taking a step between both of them as your lips quivered slightly, glancing between them both who were locked in a rigid glare off.

Watching Jungkook’s free hand curl into a fist made you quickly realize you didn’t have a lot of time before he’d send it flying and even if you hadn’t seen Jungkook in a fight, you didn’t need to see to know he was experienced, “Hanjae- just go. We’ll meet up and talk about this later okay? I’m not going to just drop what I’m doing for you.”

Hanjae’s jaw clenched and he parted his lips before he glared harsh at Jungkook, ripping his hand away from him before sneering, “Remember- that’s my girl.” Before turning around and trudging away as you stiffly inhaled, running a hand through your hair as you watched both of Jungkook’s knuckles curl up, his chest puffing as he tried to control the anger flickering in his eyes.

It was quiet for a moment before Jungkook whipped around to face you, “Like hell you’re gonna ‘talk about it later’ with him! What a- a total dick! Why are you even together with him?” He snapped out, not necessarily at you but at the idea as he ran a hand through his hair, his words fumbled making you raise your eyebrows, not expecting him to be so worked up.

Running a hand through your hair once more you swallowed thickly as you glanced away from him, “Jungkook I have been avoiding him, I’ve had some time to think and continuing like this isn’t going to solve anything. I need to talk to him- thank you for that but pease- don’t get involved okay? You’re only going to make things worse.” You frowned as you let your eyes flicker to him briefly before back at your feet. You could feel his gaze burning into you as silence filled between you both again, people passing by you without a second glance as you clasped your hands together.

“Just break up with him,” Your eyes shot up to his tense figure, his jaw clenched and his eyes glaring down at the floor as he clenched and unclenched his fists, “I don’t understand why you need to talk to him, he’s so controlling and such an asshole! He doesn’t deserve you.”

“That’s not for you to decide Jungkook,” You shook your head, your voice softened but on guard as his lips twitched as if annoyed at your words, but saying no more, “...I need to get to class- I'll see you later, okay?” You didn’t want to leave him here in such an angry and rough state of mind but you needed time alone, you understood his concern but ultimately that was your choice. 

You doubt you’d stay with Hanjae but you didn’t need or want Jungkook coming between you both. Furthermore you didn’t want your breakup with Hanjae because of Jungkook, you wanted to walk away knowing it was one hundred percent because it would never work out, not because a third party had gotten involved. You brushed past him, secretly hoping he’d stop you, maybe to try and smooth things over with you, or at least leave one a good note.

He didn’t.

----

“So what’s your story honey? What’s a pretty girl like you working here?”

You internally sighed at the question, trying to make sure it didn’t show on your face as you shifted in your seat. You weren’t sure what it was, with clients asking that question. Did they assume they were being chivalrous? Were they were just curious and didn’t mean to come off slimey or condescending? Or was it to sweep you off your feet at the idea of someone seeing you as more than a stripper? If it was- it wasn’t working. 

The amount of times you had heard that, in various forms over the night was both ridiculous and boring, how many times could you rebrand your answer? You had gotten good at finding different reasons and various wording which all meant the same in the end to answer with. 

You had still been a bit sheepish talking to clients on your own, but you had been getting more comfortable with it, “Oh, it's not like I was forced into dancing here,” You gave a soft laugh as you traced the rim of your margarita glass, the salt crumbling against the pad of your finger tip as you smiled softly, “I actually quite enjoy it, I’m in college at the moment and finances were strained. It wasn’t ideal but I’ve grown to enjoy working here, it has its own charm.”

“It really does.” He licked his lips as he winked, forcing you to swallow your cringe as you attempted to give him a peppy smile as he continued, “And it’s only your second week at Cherry right?”

You glanced towards the stage where Hoseok was grinding against the floor, he really did have remarkable energy, his wide predatory smirk as girls practically screamed themselves hoarse while throwing their money, “Yes! I’m still fairly new but I’m beginning to get the hang of things...Once my mentor thinks I’m ready I’ll be able to start private dancing, hopefully you’ll be on the list?” You asked innocently before sending a wink his way.

He gave a laugh as he leaned back in his seat, “Mentor? You’re kidding right baby? There’s no way strippers need mentors,” Oh if only he had the slightest idea how wrong he was, if it weren’t for Jungkook you wouldn’t have even signed the contract. You could understand his reasoning, you would’ve thought the same thing for the longest time, but as it turned out, just like any other form of dancing, stripping was taxing and hard in it’s own way, “But of course I’ll be on the list, maybe you’ll let me be the first to see?” He asked as if hoping you’d say yes.

You really hoped he didn’t take you up on that offer but if you could get more people on your waitlist that just meant more money for you in the end, “We’ll just have to see,” You finally offered a small teasing smile as you raised your glass towards him in toast before taking a sip, noticing Hoseok’s performance ending as you stood up, “Thanks for chatting with me babe, see you later.” You sent one last wink to him before moving to the next table. 

It was a fairly crowded table and a mixed party, both of the men seemed uninterested in the stage, unshockingly as they had scheduled guys for most of the night, both of the girls however were red cheeked with money in their hands while giggling to one another, “Care if I join?” It wasn’t required, but you always wanted to ask because you found, sometimes people weren’t always in the mood to be social or weren’t comfortable in such close presence with a stripper. It didn’t make sense, given they were in a strip club, but you wanted the clients you were working with to feel comfortable and safe. 

Both of the men had instantly perked up, rapidly nodding as they smiled, the girls ignored you as if you didn’t even exist, sitting down in the chair you opened the conversation, finding that more days then less it was easier than waiting for them, “I couldn’t help but notice you seem a bit bored. Men not to your taste?”

“At all,” The one towards the middle snorted out as he leaned back in his chair, he seemed more like the outspoken one of the two before continuing, “I would’ve just skipped altogether had I known it was mainly male strippers tonight. I’d prefer to be watching someone as beautiful as you up there.” He winked making you force another smile as you shrugged.

“It’s her birthday,” The one right next to you murmured softly, eyeing the girl with a plastic crown on her head, almost identical to the one Seulgi wore the first time you had ever visited Cherry Bomb, back when it was her birthday, “It’s what she wanted to do so here we are.” You noticed his gaze stayed soft and warm while on her making you almost melt on the inside, he liked her and it was completely oblivious.

He only sighed though as the girls both started to whistle out at who was one stage- Jungkook of course had taken his rightful throne on the stage as the music started up, “That’s sweet of you both, I know it’s probably not the most comfortable sight to watch when you don’t swing that way but it’s kind of you to stick around anyways. I’ve never been one for strip clubs either.”

Both of the men started laughing at your words, making you smile as well as the one towards the middle spoke up, “Really? So can I ask how you ended up working in one?” 

The roars of the crowd heightened when you glanced back at the stage, Jungkook had just pulled the shirt over his head, revealing his chiseled muscles, his build of narrow hips and broad shoulders making almost every girl in the room water out the mouth as you glanced back towards your clients, trying to focus on his question, “My mentor…” You jerked your thumb towards Jungkook on stage, “He’s a pretty persistent guy. The strip scene isn’t my cup of tea but he convinced me to give it a try. It’s been history since. Just a suggestion but…” You pressed your lips together before giving a cheeky grin, “If you wanna have fun you guys can always come to one of my shows, I’m still in group dances but I promise it’d be worth it.” 

You definitely had the man towards the middle of the group’s attention, it was the one who sat beside you who didn’t seem sold as his eyes flickered towards the birthday girls, as if hoping she’d glance this way, but she didn’t. Her eyes were on Jungkook’s body as if hypnotised with red cheeks and her hand clenching her money, not just ones- no those were twenties and a lot of them, “I don’t know,” He finally spoke up coolly before shrugging, “Strip clubs aren’t really my scene either.”

The cheering piped up against making you turn back towards the stage where Jungkook had just unzipped his pants, his back on the ground and his hips rolling into the air where every girl wanted to be on top of him, pushing his pants down to reveal the thick taut muscles of his thighs, “Well,” You clacked your lips with a smile, “I won’t blame you there, afterall I’m not a club person either, remember?” He glanced at you curiously as you gave him a wink.

Just then the spikes of the screaming piped up making you wince slightly, any louder and you’d feel forced to cover your ears, that’s when you realized Jungkook had stepped off the stage from where he had been struggling on choreography earlier, was he going to lap dance instead tonight? You made a mental note that it wasn’t a bad idea if you ever struggled with that later down the road, you noticed his eyes seemed to be distant though, as if the cogs in his head were turning and tuned out the roar of his crowd. 

His eyes landed on your table though and it was as if he turned off autopilot mode, swaying right over with a wide smirk as you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, he could never leave you alone, even at work, could he? Stopping in front of the table he paused at the girl in the tiara as he purred out, “Birthday girl huh? Guess I better give you a present then.” She almost squealed as he sat down on her lap.

You felt a wave of discomfort form in your stomach as you looked away, trying your best to conceal your apprehension as you decided to focus on the two clients you came here to talk with, “I’m not really one for lapdancing but it’s pretty hard to compete with for attention huh?” You cracked a smile though you were aware it came out tense as you heard the girl try to keep in a whimper as he rolled his hips into hers.

“Well don’t worry, you have our complete undivided attention- right Alex?” The one towards the middle relaxed into his seat, ignoring Jungkook grinding into his friend like it’d be his last time while glancing towards his friend casually.

His friend, the one sitting next to you though- had an expression mirroring yours, making you realize that you must’ve been doing just as bad of a job as him at covering your discomfort. Dejection in his eyes at the girl he was obviously crushing on being lapdanced not only by a stripper but by the biggest stripper in the whole club, “Yeah…” The man- Alex leaned back into his seat, stirring his glass as he tried to swallow down his downcast expression at the whimper you all heard from the girl.

“Well,” You clasped your hands together, straightening up in opposition, trying to ignore the overly lewd display in front of your eyes as Jungkook letting his hips circle and roll into hers as if he hadn’t done the same thing to you earlier that morning… “All I’m suggesting is, maybe you can change my mind about it if you came to my show, I’m always open to lapdancing someone as cute as you both.”

The girl suddenly gasped loudly at a particularly hard thrust from Jungkook as you glanced towards his back, his shoulders incredibly tense as his song was coming to an end, he only leaned into her ear, whispering something with a hot smirk before leaning away to quickly let his gaze find yours, was that a glare? Her cheeks were bright red and she giggled before nodding her head rapidly, he sent her a wink before standing up, without a single glance towards you and making his way back to the stage to collect his tips before going to the staff room.

What was that about? Alex leaned back in his seat as he sighed, rubbing his forehead looking vaguely tired as the two girls giggled, the omen in the tiara suddenly stood up, “We’ll definitely come.” The one in the middle volunteered noticing the other’s downcast expression, “When’s your next performance?”

You smiled, happy to hear you had successfully gotten two people to come to your next show, you really weren’t interested in lapdancing, but your money was becoming shorter by the day and you really needed every last dollar you could get here, “Tomorrow night, I’ll see you there.”  

You all stood up before parting ways, you sighed finally letting your persona melt away as you made your way to the staff area, glad Jungkook’s performance was the last of the night before closing up, you were tired and beyond exhausted. You had ended up forgetting you had a thesis due for your art history class the next day and you knew you weren’t going to have time to finish it.

Meaning you’d be up the whole night- or what was left of it before heading back to Cherry Bomb for practice, groaning you rubbed your eyes as you paused in the hallway, maybe you should talk to Jungkook? You still felt bad for leaving him behind in the mall and you knew it wasn’t fair on him to leave him hanging like that. But you needed time to just go through your options, you knew he meant well but you still didn’t enjoy being told what to do when it wasn’t anyone’s choice but yours to make.

Still, you should just swallow your pride and apologize to him anyways, it was clear he only said what he did because he cared. He at least deserved a full answer on why you said what you did. It wasn’t about you not wanting to leave Hanjae anymore, it was about you wanting to make sure you were leaving him for the right reasons, and making sure no one else was influencing your decisions. 

Nodding you prepped yourself before making your way down the hallway towards the familiar path of his dressing room, you stopped short at his door that held his name, your hand paused before rapping against the door at the loud- muffled moan you heard from inside.

“Mmm! Jungkook! O-oh fuck right there! Right there!” 

Your hand stayed in place in the air but you hadn’t even noticed the way it shook like a dead leaf in the middle of autumn as you heard the girl- the one he had been lapdancing not too long ago moan his name again. 

You didn’t think it would hurt.

It did.

Note: Hope post chapter 5 depression hits y’all as hard as it hit me, I was lowkey internally ugly sobbing when I finished this.

Taglist: @loveherpersona @megladon1616 @pearlneedstosleep @sincerelyjeohn @jungkookies-golden-noona @ironically-indifferent96 @epiphany-playingwithfire @maboiisuga @kookphoria91 @taehyungiev13 @134340ismybitch @appreciatethefoolishness @hanhannguyen98 @lurkerarmy @lovelyjkook @repeating-seesaw-game @serendipity-secrets  @kimvantaee @forevermoremagcon @timestandstillalittle @yanmi1 @expensive-bangtan-girl @blxckeffect @egyptianwitchbutwithab @kimcheeeeeeeeee @rather-not-sayy @pastel-i-decay

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[otpnessmess]

Of Casual Encounters And Late Nights Pt.2

Here it is! I don't know if it's as long as you wanted but it's almost double the first chapter. I hope you like it!

First Next Ao3

-

A week went by where Jason managed to avoid meeting Ladybug again while investigating, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t heard of her. Akuma attacks were as frequent as ever and gave him an opportunity to learn more about the terrors that had been plaguing Paris for years now apparently. He sent all new info on it to his family,  who couldn’t believe none of it had reached them up until that point. Bruce was feeling particularly flabbergasted among them.

“You mean to tell me there’s been a terrorist in Paris for years, one that’s been destroying the city twice a week, and we knew absolutely nothing about it?” He seemed to be going through the seven stages of grief before excusing himself to call Diana.

Meanwhile, Jason’s brothers piled up in front of the computer screen wanting to hear more about the heroes and their work. Tim was looking up information on the internet while Dick asked questions nonstop about their powers, and their suits, and if he had had the chance to talk to them yet. 

“They sometimes stay back after the attacks, but their powers have some kind of time limit so those are rare occasions, or so I’ve heard. They’re all proficient fighters and each have their own set of powers and weapon. Ladybug’s powers are the most impressive by far” 

The mention of her name threw him right back into the memory of the night they first met. Despite resenting not being given an opening to talk to her more then, Jason had to admit leaving had been the right choice. He wanted to stay in the shadows as long as possible, and dealing with the police on his second night in the city wouldn’t have made that easy for him. Adding to that, even though he was quite stubborn and didn’t want to accept it, he felt curious about the spotted heroine. She was sassy and clever and, if the two battles she had this week were anything to go by, her abilities to strategize rivaled Tim’s.

He came back to the present with a jolt when Dick whined about him not paying attention, eliciting a snort from both him and Damian, who also looked at the eldest with a sneer. “You’re 29 Grayson, no one that age should be making those types of noises.” Jason would rather die than saying it out loud, but sometimes he did miss the dumbasses that were his brothers. 

“You know, I don’t think we would have believed this was real even if someone had told us about it. I found a... Ladyblog? It has videos of almost every attack from the last 4 years as far as I can see, and these look every bit as outlandish as I expected them to. There’s this one where apparently the whole city was flooded.” Tim pulled up the video in the peripheral monitors for the others to see and, lo and behold, there was the video from the day Ondine had drowned Paris. Faint screams could be heard in the background as the person recording managed to get to the roof of a building just in time to see the people still left on the street be swiped by the giant wave. From then on it was all silent. “This is horrible, so many people must have died during this. How did they manage to recover? I’m sure the news of Paris underwater should’ve popped up SOMEWHERE.”

“They didn’t because it didn’t last more than an afternoon.” Jason ran a hand through his hair impatiently. The whole week he had been aching to go out as Red Hood but couldn’t risk meeting Ladybug and it was making him jittery. “That’s what Ladybug’s power is. She just….reverts everything. I haven’t been able to find out how yet, but I’ve been told it must be magic or some shit.”

“Reverts everything? Just like that? Like….turning back time?” Dick looked confused trying to come up with a rational explanation

“I don’t think so. Everyone except the victims remember everything that happened. It’s more of a cure, if you will. She fixes everything, makes a new Eiffel Tower appear, brings the dead back to life, you know, no big deal.” Jason couldn’t help but chuckle at their faces. “I know, if anyone tried to tell me this before I saw it myself I wouldn’t have believed it either.”

A moment of silence on his brothers’ end was interrupted by the return of Bruce. “Diana is positively furious right now. Apparently someone received a message from these heroes years ago and thought it was a joke, so they dismissed it. Diana asked to see the message and just unleashed hell on the poor guy after watching it. It seems her mother was a former Ladybug and she grew up knowing about the magic of the ‘Miraculous’” He said the word in a way that made his sons think he was as confused as they were “The League is planning to make a trip to Paris as soon as possible to assess the situation.”

Now that brought a frown to Jason’s face. “I know I’m usually the reckless one here, but listen to me for a moment. You’re just planning on barging in here, with an angry Wonder Woman, and a probably scared shitless League, to battle a guy who makes you his minion if you show the tiniest hint of a negative emotion? Imagine if Diana got akumatized. You must really want the apocalypse to start huh?” 

He scanned their faces and wasn’t surprised to see skepticism and some smirks too. This was so not typical of him. Jason was a shoot first, ask second kinda guy, and he used to enjoy killing a little too much for it to be healthy. But he remembered what Ladybug had told him about resorting to the least amount of violence possible, and he was honestly worried about what could happen if three dozen superheroes just showed up one day to a fight. “Listen, as far as I can see, Ladybug and her team have things covered here. Give me some time to gather more information and maybe I can find a way for her and Red Hood to have a meeting. I’ll ask her if she still wants our help. But until then, you should refrain from bringing anyone here. Unless you want panic to run rampant among the citizens because the whole Justice League came.”

Snickers could be heard coming from Tim and Dick. Even Damian was trying not to show his amusement at the situation. “Who would’ve thought Todd actually had a brain. We should go if only to check whether he’s been replaced by a clone or something”

“Oh fuck off Demon Spawn, I can be smart too if I want to."

Their father seemed to be mulling over his words before sighing and nodding. “Alright. I think we can go along with what you said for now, but I want you to keep us updated regularly, and to inform us if something out of the ordinary happens. If you need us there, we’ll be on alert. And I expect that meeting with Ladybug to happen sooner rather than later. Also don’t forget why you’re originally there, we have to gather more information on what the Penguin is planning."

“You got it Brucie.” He made fingers guns at the screen with a click of his tongue. “Expect it to be at least a week until I have some big news for you, but I’ll try to make it happen as quickly as possible. And worry not about my mission, I’m almost done with it. Now my dear family, if you’ll excuse me, it’s already 2am and I would like to pretend to be a tourist at least for a day tomorrow. I’ll let you know if something comes up.”

He quickly ended the call and face planted on his bed. This was going to be a long mission. One week in and he was already exhausted. He wasn’t lying when he said he was close to finishing the mission he was originally sent to Paris for, though.  He had infiltrated the goons quickly and efficiently, and managed to hear about a drug shipment due to arrive in a couple weeks together with a human one. As soon as he got the information as to where he’d call his family and they could resolve the problem easily. For now though, he couldn’t help but want to keep them away a bit longer. Be it because, even though he loved his brothers (not that he’d ever tell them), he wanted some time alone, or be it because he wanted more time to try and figure out Ladybug, he still wasn’t completely sure.

If you asked him, he would deny it to his dying breath that he was interested in the heroine, but something about her made him want to get closer and know more about her. In spite of the great amount of knowledge the public had on her, she was surrounded by an aura of mystery and something else that Jason couldn’t pinpoint, which had him turning in his sleep ever since that encounter in the alley. It also didn’t help that she seemed to be around the same age as him, her suit doing her great favours in all her red and black. Alright. Maybe he thought she was a bit attractive. Very attractive? 

“No. Nope. Not going there.” He got up and decided to ignore that part of his brain as of now. For no particular reason whatsoever. It was only normal to want to know more about the person protecting the city. Call it a professional interest, thank you very much.

The dark haired man decided to take advantage of having an expensive suite for once and took a long bath while doing some more research on Paris. He was indeed planning to walk around the city the next day after all. When he was done, Jason headed to the bed and fell asleep promptly. Dreams full of back alleys and superheroes. 

-

As luck would have it, it didn’t take long for the both of them to meet yet again. Only maybe not in the way the Gotham vigilante would have hoped for. Set on at least enjoying this pseudo-vacation he was gifted, Jason left his hotel the next morning to visit the most popular places in the city. The Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, the Arc of Triumph and the Champs Élysées were the places he had chosen to visit during the morning and early afternoon, but, even though his main goal was to distract himself from the tasks at hand, he couldn’t will away the questions roaming around his head. 

How was he going to contact Ladybug? He wanted to do it as Red Hood, but he didn’t want the heroine of Paris to distrust him since he was pretty sure his reputation would precede him. He was known for being the most ruthless of the batfam, the only thing keeping him from killing criminals once he was done with them was Batman’s No killing under any kind of circumstances rule (which if you asked him was a special kind of bullshit, some of them did deserve to rot in hell in his opinion), and he wasn’t sure if Ladybug would be as willing to hear him out as she may one of his brothers or father. However, his only other option would be to approach her as Jason Todd, one of Bruce Wayne’s adopted sons. He didn’t even know whether Ladybug would care about his family name. This wasn’t his city. And on the off chance that she might have recognized him… He was still a mere civilian. One that had, on top of that, to explain his connection to the Gotham vigilantes without giving away any of their identities. Jason knew his hands were tied. Red Hood had to be the one to try and get the attention of the spotted hero. Knowing there was no other option didn't make him happy about it though. 

Once he was done with this line of thinking his brain decided to go back to the Penguin. He was trying to instill one of the worst types of businesses in Paris and he couldn’t wait to put a stop to it. As much as he knew drug trafficking to be terrible, he was of the opinion that people who engaged in (as well as profited off of) human trafficking should have a special circle of hell destined for them. Preferably in the very depths of it.

Jason was very much aware that, for as long as he remained in this city, negative emotions had to be controlled and dissipated as quickly as possible to avoid an akumatization. Especially those of someone with the skills and knowledge he had. He had a lot of the latter in strange topics, most of which he acquired growing up during his training. And albeit he wasn’t sure whether it would actually be useful to Hawkmoth or not, he would rather not put it to the test. All of this, however, was sent to the back burner for a second as Jason's thoughts strayed towards what he would like to do to the Gotham villain when he captured him. 

Being so busy imagining the 30 different methods of torture he would like to inflict upon the Penguin had made him completely disregarded his surroundings, however. Coming back to his senses, his brain pointed out they were standing at the door of what seemed like a very nice patisserie, just in time for his stomach to growl, his lunch seemingly having been digested some time ago.

‘Maybe something sweet is exactly what I need right now’

-

Some days had passed since Marinette met Jason,  and though he was still burning in the back of her mind, she had way too many things to worry about during the day to remember him often. At night, however, the questions she had originally asked herself the first night continued to plague her, and since Tikki told her not to worry about it too much, the designer saw wise to keep her train of thought to herself. She wasn’t even sure why her brain seemed so fixed on this stranger she had only met once. Sure, he was involved in a fight, and seemed to be a foreigner, but it wasn’t that uncommon for petty altercations to break out around the city while she patrolled. Also this was Paris, for Kwamis’ sake. One of the biggest tourist capitals of the world. There was no reason why this Jason guy should’ve stuck to her mind as he did. Yet here she was. In the middle of her afternoon shift at the bakery. Still thinking about him.

A chime coming from the door brought her out of her stupor. But as she looked up, ready to greet the new customer, she suddenly froze, and her brain could only supply her with the word green. 

Green eyes she had only got a quick glance into a week ago were now in front of her and the color was even more intense as they reflected the sunlight rays that entered through the bakery’s windows.

-

There you have it peeps and pals! I'll try to update sometime again this week in between Daminette December.

Tag list:

@18-fandoms-unite-08 @bamagirl513 @j-a-n-e--d-o-e @dawnwave16

[neighborhoodmoonchild]

I Could Use A Hug (Uni!Yoongi Oneshot)

1. “Can you please come and get me?”

4. “How long has it been since you’ve slept?”

20. “I could really just use a hug right now.”

Pairing(s): Yoongi x Reader

Genre: University!Au, fluff

Warnings: insomnia, allusions to depression, signs/symptoms of depression and/or anxiety (if you or someone you know is struggling, don’t be afraid to seek help)

Word Count: 2.3k words

The thrum of rain drops pelting every surface around you dulled your senses and fogged your aching mind. You could barely see two feet in front of you, the darkness surrounding you only broken by the sparse light of the street lamps that became farther and fewer the longer you walked.

You weren’t sure how long you had been walking, hell, you weren’t sure where your feet were taking you anymore. All you knew is that you couldn’t lie there and pretend like everything was alright; like your mind wasn’t tearing itself apart bit by bit for seemingly no reason, and no matter how much you wanted to believe that closing your eyes and forcing it all away would work, in the end, it never would.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had slept, really slept, and the nightmares in your head seemed to enjoy their slow torment of you from the inside out.

You’re friends would tell you you’re in your head too much; your parents that it’s stress and lack of a proper routine. None of them seemed to dig deeper, try and see that you’ve tried every solution you could think of to fix their idea of the problem, and that none of them worked.

Then again, why should you expect outsiders to know all the answers when you can’t even pinpoint the why yourself.

So instead of staring at your ceiling and letting your mind run rampant with negative thoughts that feed off your sleep-deprived brain, you decide that taking a walk in the pouring rain at 2 a.m. alone would distract you from everything going on in your consciousness.

Only now, sitting on a rickety bench on the side of some street you’ve never heard of, illuminated only by the blinking bulb of a street lamp 20 ft away, you realize that there is no way to outrun this. And, honestly, your exhausted from running this marathon alone.

Wiping away the rain streaming down your face, that may nor may not have been mostly tears that you hadn’t even known had started spilling, you take out your phone to stare at the screen.

3:45 a.m.

“I shouldn’t bother him.” You whisper to yourself, although you bring up your contacts and push the one your looking for anyways. As you hold the phone to your ear, the dial tone ringing through your mind, you curse yourself for being so thoughtless.

How dare you call him when he’s just trying to sleep, knowing he’s probably been up late working, and expect him to drop everything for you. He probably won’t even answer the pho-

“Hello?” A raspy voice cuts through your intrusive thoughts and it takes all you have not to breakdown right then and there. You knew he’d already be worried by the time and nature of the call, no need to add in your hysterical sobbing.

“Y/N? Hey... are you okay?” Yoongi asks, and you can tell he’s getting more worried by the second, and you need to hurry up and find something to say before he panics.

Clearing your throat and taking a deep breath, “Can you please come and get me?”

You hated the way your voice cracked and how needy you sounded, having half a mind to just tell him it was a joke or something and hang up.

You hear him shuffling around, no doubt getting dressed and grabbing his keys, already one foot out the door.

“Of course, where are you?” His voice is soft, calming, and despite the weight it lifts off of your shoulders, you can’t help the pang of guilt that rumbles through your chest for dragging him into your bullshit all the time (though he’d tell you it’s not bullshit and he’s happy to help).

Your eyes dart around your surroundings, trying to find an indicator to your location, spotting a street sign a few yards away, relaying the information to Yoongi.

After a few seconds of what you’re assuming is him getting in his car and trying to figure out exactly where you are, he clears his throat, “Alright, stay there, I’ll be there in, like, 15 minutes...20 minutes top,” And then hangs up the phone to begin the journey.

Slowly tucking your phone back into your pocket, you discover that the rain pelting down just a mere few minutes ago has died down to a light drizzle. It’s a cool evening, but not uncomfortably cold, though you felt so numb right now you doubt you’d have noticed otherwise.

Left alone to your thoughts once again, counting down the seconds till Yoongi would arrive to save you yet again from yourself, you can’t help but let your thoughts wander to the first time you met him.

You hadn’t been quite the mess you were now, freshly out of high school, entering uni and the real world with a blind sense of optimism that would soon be crushed under the immense weight of classes and college life that you’d been naive enough not to wholly consider beforehand.

Yoongi had already, as he likes to say it, “cracked the code” of university life, handling the stresses of student life with ease. Knew exactly what classes to take and avoid, which professors he could swindle, what work he could get away with skipping, and avoided campus social life like the plague. As far as he was concerned, this shit was a breeze and he’d be out before he knew it, degree in hand and job secured through suckering some admin for sweet connections.

He’d never guess he’d get swept up in your steep downward spiral into oblivion when he bumped into you, a happy-go-lucky freshie, that night he decided to let Hoseok drag him to some random new student event in the music hall despite his aversion to such poorly planned social nightmares. In all honesty, he would’ve just ignored you if you hadn’t asked him, quite honestly, where you could get a shot of whatever made him so “incredibly apathetic and disinterested.”

No one had ever really approached Yoongi in the 2 years that he’d been there, except for Hoseok and a few other guys that frequented their shared dorm, let alone a girl. He’s not sure if it was your blind boldness or your Arcadian demeanor that drew him in, but he won’t lie that he’s glad it happened, because you ended up being the best friend he never knew he needed (and the same goes for you.)

Yoongi was there through finals, bad blind dates, terrible roommates; everything. That kind of friendship also came with a front row seat to watch as your mental health deteriorated, with no sure fire way to help you, and it killed him inside.

Soon life was filled with insomniatic episodes that could last for days, a bad caffeine addiction, and an impending sense of doom looming over your shoulder every second of every day, and Yoongi felt like the only thing he could do was watch it all unfold. He was scared of saying the wrong thing, pushing you further into the black hole you edged closer to, and he didn’t want to lose the closest friend he’d ever had.

He quickly learned that just being there and listening when you needed it was the one thing you needed, and he happened to be pretty freaking good at it.

You’ve been up for 13 hours straight working on the exact same assignment? Let’s take a break and watch your favorite movie.

You’re roommate kicked you out again because she can’t deal with you being up for 3 nights in a row? Crash at my place and we can cuddle (which ultimately puts you to sleep, even if just for a little while most nights).

You’re crying for the 5th time today and you have no idea why? I’ll put on some calming music and crush you in a bear hug until you have no more tears left to cry.

Yoongi didn’t need an explanation or any answers, he just wanted to make sure you were okay. Admit it or not, he’d come to love every single piece, every inch, every molecule of you, and he hated to see the person he loved in pain.

So getting an S.O.S. call at 3 a.m., knowing that in your weakest moment you needed him and only him, sleep didn’t mean anything to him anymore, in fact nothing else did. You were his top priority and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

And so there he was, in his pajamas and a sweatshirt, hair sticking out in all directions, on his way to a random street across town in the middle of the night with only one thing one his mind. You.

He could tell by your voice that you’d had a rough night, considering he’s been present every other time, and he know the signs when he hears them. The fact that you’d gone so far, alone, in the dark, scared him; you’d never done anything quite so reckless in the time he’s known you, and the the fact that you weren’t in the right state of mind had him picking up the pace, urgent to get to you as quickly (but still safely) as possible.

Yoongi learned early on that even though you had a calm and serene attitude, you took things to heart easily, and the more that piled on you, the harder time you had digging your way out. You were very good at hiding how negatively things affected you, and you always put others before yourself, even when the only person desperate for help was you.

He didn’t really understand how someone so in tune with others feeling and emotions, could be so blind to her own. Sometimes you’d even skip meals working yourself into a frenzy, but still manage to scold him for not eating the proper amount of meals per day.

Sometimes, he thought, it was as if you didn’t see yourself as a living, breathing, person that needed everything you were so willing to give to others. Whether you were selfless or stupid, that was a debate for another time.

Turning down the right street, he finally caught a glimpse of the girl he’d been looking for. Your hair was soaked, along with your clothes, and you stared off at the road with an empty look in your eyes. Parking and shutting his car off, Yoongi hopped out and approached you cautiously, shrugging off his sweatshirt as he went.

Your mind finally broke from it’s thoughts to see Yoongi handing you his sweatshirt. When you didn’t reach out to grab it, he quickly moved closer, pulling it over your head and helping your arms through. When you were situated in the warmth of it, the familiar smell of him flooding your senses, it was then that you finally woke up and looked him in the eyes.

You could tell he was tired by the slight discoloration under his puffy eyes, but the emotion that swirled through them was one you had seen him wear quite often when these things happened; sadness.

Without saying anything, he slowly reached out, taking your frail, chilled hand in his, rubbing it to bring back some warmth. You smiled slightly, though tears still spilled from your eyes.

“How long has it been since you’ve slept?” He asked, continuing his ministrations, searching through the storm that raged on in your eyes.

You shrugged, a long, exhausted sigh escaping your lips.

“Not that long.” You lied, and he saw right through it, not only because he could tell by just looking at you, but he knew it’d had to be significantly longer than usual for this sort of thing to occur.

When you looked back at him, he continued to burn through your facade with his gaze till you broke.

“Like... 6...6 days.”

There was a short silence between the two of you as everything sort of sank in. It wasn’t unlike you to survive on a few hours of sleep, or maybe go 2-3 days without it, but never this long. Why didn’t you tell him beforehand? Why didn’t he notice?

“You know,” he begins, bringing your attention back to his face, which softens as he takes in just how tired and sad you looked, “if you need help, any kind, I’ll be right there for you.”

You’re a bit surprised by his statement. You know you’ve been in a bad state for a while, and he knows it too, but the topic of getting help outside of the two of you hadn’t really been discussed. Not that you were opposed to it, it just never crossed your mind.

Your silence seemed to worry him, making him add, “if you want, whenever you’re ready, and if you’re not, well, then that’s okay too....because I’m here for you, not matter what, and-“

Your light giggle breaks him from his tangent, and his mouth turns up in a half smile when he sees you wipe your eyes and turn to him, the life seeming to slowly trickle back into your eyes again.

“Ok.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, slight worry etching back onto his face even though he tried his best to remain as composed as possible for your sake. You nodded, and he gripped your hand tighter.

“Ok, when do you want to-“

“We can figure that out later.” You interrupt, the fatigue cutting through the bit of energy you seemed to gather just being in the presence of the most important person in your life.

He senses you fading, and lifts his other hand to rub your back.

“You know what though?” You say, causing him to tilt his head in question, awaiting your response.

“I could really just use a hug right now.” And without any hesitation, you’re wrapped tightly in his arms, face buried in his chest as his lips place a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you, you know that right?” You mumble into him, and you can feel his body shake a bit with his light chuckle.

“I love you too, now let’s go home.”

————————————————————————————

This is my first attempt at a short prompt imagine type thingy, hope you all enjoy, and if you find any mistakes or have any questions, let me know! Feel free to message me for requests, I’ll try my best to answer if I can! I have lots of drabbles, imagines, and fics planned for this blog so stay tuned!

-Moonie🌙

[wiersema1]

Summer 2018 Travelblog

When I was a kid our parents took us on a driving trip every summer for two to three weeks. Mom and Dad looked forward to it immensely. Dad saved all his money from his middle-class salary from Kemper Insurance, and saved up all his sick days and vacation days earned throughout the calendar year and blew them all on our annual trip. He loved the freedom, the driving on the open road through our nation’s interstate system. He wanted to see the world, have some nice expensive dinners, and visit America. He also dug jamming that trunk with all the suitcases, just making it barely fit each and every day. Dad also loved pounding martinis the minute we checked into the hotel. Who could blame him? Having to listen to me talk all day in a small car? Good grief.

So now I continue the Wiersema family tradition by taking our family on the same vacations (more or less). However, I’m not a martini guy. I’m a beer guy and we have a Honda Odyssey van rather than a two-door Buick Regal. Anyways, the luggage fits nicely rather than snugly (vans > two-door cars) but the arguing and fighting increases with each and every bozo driver that doesn’t have their headlights on in the dark. I know! Another difference is the texting and driving has become so rampant that it’s a modern epidemic. Black plague anyone? No thank you, I’ll have some texting and driving instead…… something needs to be done. (*PS This sounds like a future rant column.)

This year we drove from our home in Mundelein, Illinois to Boston, Massachusetts by way of Toronto, Ontario, Canada. We also stopped at Niagara Falls and Cooperstown, New York as well as several other stops. Here’s a rundown of our trip(s) along with photos.

2014 : Texas; via Route 66

2015 : St. Louis and Hannibal, Missouri; via the Mississippi River Valley

2016 : Upper Peninsula Michigan; we drove all the way around Lake Michigan

2017 : Tennessee & the Smoky Mountains

2018 : Toronto, Niagara Falls, Boston, & Cooperstown

Day 1 (Friday, July 6, 2018) : Mundelein, IL > Sarnia, Ontario, Canada

The first day of a driving trip is always very exciting. You rush around packing the car and making sure nobody forgets anything. “Do we have the contact solution, the sunglasses, the hats, the pillows, my extra pair of underpants?” Once you get rolling, the excitement settles into a dull, melodic rhythm of “Are we there yet?” noises heard from the backseat. Then you realize it’s already time to get out the extra underpants. The first day is always a long drive. This year we ended up just over the Canadian border. Deborah (my beautiful wife) booked us a hotel in Sarnia. We went out to eat at a restaurant on the water called Stoke’s Bay Grill & Bar. It was really Canadian right away. I loved it! CFL (Canadian Football League) was on the TV’s, some weird items on the menu like fried clams (I just totally invented that, like a fiction writer would do), and a really friendly waiter who loved hockey and the Toronto MapleLeaves (inside joke) and Chicago Blackhawks. Then confusion! He asked us a really strange question. Oh no! Cultural differences. How will we ever survive? When we asked for the bill, he replied with “You need the machine?” While my wife stared at him, my mind wandered into “Rage Against the Machine” territory. As I was jamming out in my brain to some hard-core metal, my wife politely asked, “Wait, what?” He exclaimed that if we were going to use a credit card that we would need to scan our card on a credit card machine at our table. Oh, right! We told him we don’t do that in America. Rather, we give the card to them so that they can steal our credit card number behind our backs. No worries. We were full-fledged Canadians on our first night. I dug it the most!

Natalie and Dad at Amsterdam BrewHouse on Lake Ontario in Toronto.

Day 2 (Saturday, July 7) : Sarnia, Ontario, Canada > Toronto, Ontario, Canada

The second day of a trip is really exciting too, except you start running into little problems getting adjusted. For instance, you have four people in one hotel room trying to use one bathroom and one shower. So while you’re trying to get your body adjusted to sitting in a car, sometimes all day, you also have to deal with everybody’s unique sleep schedule. As most of you know, I’m a late riser. This can cause problems. Oh well, I’m in charge as the man of the house, er the hotel room, right? Right guys? Is anybody listening? Sometimes I get the feeling that everybody is talking but nobody is really listening. Do I need to repeat it?

Hotel rooms……. they inspire kids to goof around. This is the Residence Inn in downtown Toronto.

Anyway, we drove from Sarnia to Toronto. We stayed at the Residence Inn by Marriott in downtown Toronto. It was pretty sweet! The only problems we had were minor. A strange skater dude skateboarded into our van at an intersection as we waited for pedestrians to cross. The weird part was he seemed to infer that it was our fault. It was confusing. I was kind of mad and then lost it with just a tinge of road rage, but don’t tell anyone. The guy skated into our van, then threw me double fingers (I think.) It was all very confusing because it was a Saturday around 4 pm and there were a ton of people on the streets. Our kids are screwing around in the back seat and I’m driving this monster soccer-mom van. Then boom! So I looked in the rearview and saw this guy giving me double “buzz-off” signs. I’m ready to get out of the car but luckily he zoomed off into the abyss. I was ready to fight…..and I would’ve won let me tell ya.

Casa Loma

The first thing we saw in Toronto was a mansion called Casa Loma. It was pretty cool. The place is gigantic and there were a ton of visitors. It’s not as big as Biltmore in Asheville, North Carolina but it’s similar. Many movies have been filmed in the rooms of Casa Loma including “Cocktail”, “Extreme Measures”, and “Maximum Risk”.

Moving on, we loved Toronto! We went out to eat at Amsterdam BrewHouse on the shores of Lake Ontario. It was awesome. Great food, atmosphere, and beer. I would highly recommend Amsterdam to anyone in Toronto. If I lived near this place, I’d be there nearly everyday.

Does this look like a princess that needs a knight in shining armor?

  My beautiful wife and I at the top of the castle at Casa Loma in Toronto. Good thing I saved her from the evil lair where she was being held against her will, a la “Sleeping Beauty”. To borrow a phrase from Chipper Jones, “Deborah is the queen of my castle.”

Day 3 (Sunday, July 8) : Toronto

My son and I went to Rogers Centre, formerly known as SkyDome, for a Blue Jays game. The New York Yankees were in town and it was a Sunday afternoon ballgame. The weather was fantastic.

Trev and I hung out by the Blue Jays bullpen before the game so that we could cheer on Mundelein’s own Ryan Borucki, who made his 3rd career start for the Blue Jays.

As luck would have it, the first big-leaguer from our hometown high school (Mundelein High School) was scheduled to start for the Blue Jays. His name is Ryan Borucki and he made his 3rd career start. He pitched fantastic but unfortunately he didn’t bag his first major league win because Toronto’s offense couldn’t support him…… “No sticks man”.

After seven excellent innings allowing only one run, he left the game at the 7th inning stretch. The Jays had men on in the bottom of the 7th but couldn’t push it across so Borucki was saddled with another no-decision, leaving a 1-1 game that the Yankees eventually won in extras, 2-1 in 10 innings. Nonetheless, it was an amazing stadium and beautiful day for a ballgame. I highly recommend SkyDome!

Toronto’s CN Tower right next to SkyDome on a beautiful Sunday afternoon at the ol’ ballyard.

Day 4 (Monday, July 9) : Toronto > Niagara Falls, Ontario, Canada

Trev and I went to the Hockey Hall of Fame! It was awesome, even better than I imagined. It’s an underrated Hall. It’s very interactive which is great for kids of all ages. Trev loved playing video games (EA Sports NHL ’18) and shooting pucks with a real-life stick at a video board goalie. He beat me. Boo for Dad.

Trev next to a cool Chris Chelios’ Chicago Blackhawks jersey. Sweet action bro!

The greatest part of the Hockey Hall was definitely the collection of famous trophies including the Stanley Cup, the Conn Smythe Trophy, the Hart Trophy, the Vezina Trophy, and the Art Ross Trophy. They have a vault where they store the original Stanley Cup which is obviously irreplaceable. Wow, the history in this Hall was incredible. A special place for all hockey fans. Go there!

This is the “Original” Stanley Cup Championship Trophy. Since it is irreplaceable, the Hockey Hall of Fame locks it up in a vault. I know…….. really awesome!

Trev beat me with 2 goals to my one. Way to go T-Magic!

Possibly my favorite trophy in sports is the Conn Smythe Trophy awarded to the NHL’s Playoff MVP. It’s just so cool, right? The design has the old Maple Leaf Gardens mounted on top of a base with silver maple leafs where they engrave the winner’s name. Way, way outstanding. I especially love the Blackhawks triumvirate of Jonathan Toews (2010), Patrick Kane (’13), and Duncan Keith (’15). This version on display is Sidney Crosby’s 2017 Trophy. Alex Ovechkin just won it in June for the 2018 edition. Overall, it’s a fantastic Trophy Room which really is the highlight of the Hockey Hall of Fame.

After the Hockey Hall we were on our way to Niagara Falls. What can we say about this fantastic part of God’s creation? I’m speechless, which is hard for me. We went on the boat ride which was more than amazing. Great memories for our family. Let’s let the pictures do the talking.

Day 5 (Tuesday, July 10) : Niagara Falls > Lake Placid, NY, U.S.A

Who loves a sports town with a Hall of Fame? I do! I do! Sign me up! Lake Placid is a hidden gem of a town in the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York. Lake Placid is the site of two Winter Olympic Games, 1932 and 1980. In case you forgot, the 1980 Winter Olympics is one of the most famous Olympics ever because of the miraculous upset of the Soviet Union’s men’s hockey team, consisted mostly of professional players, by the teenage and college kids that made up the United States men’s team. It’s known as the “Miracle on Ice”. There’s even a movie called “Miracle” which I can’t believe I haven’t seen yet. I know. What am I waiting for? Nothing. Sign me up for that too.

Day 6 (Wednesday, July 11) : Lake Placid, NY > White River Junction, Vermont

On Wednesday we left Lake Placid and drove to Vermont. We stopped and saw Fort Ticonderoga in upstate New York in the afternoon. Fort Ticonderoga has a unique history, having been a part of several wars while being in possession of many different countries. There’s some cool things to check out, especially for people who like learning about different types of cannons and guns. Trev really enjoyed it. Check him out pretending to shoot the cannon! He loves this stuff. They also have some excellent monuments to fallen heroes of yesteryear.

Day 7 (Thursday, July 12) : White River Junction, VT > Boston, Massachusetts

On Thursday we left Vermont and headed further east to our final destination, Boston Massachusetts. What a city! Boston is really cool. If it wasn’t for all the people, I’d love living there. Haha! We stayed at a Homewood Suites in Needham, MA which is a suburb of Boston. It was a new hotel and our suite had two rooms and a kitchen which was nice for us so that we could make ourselves at home. We were nervous about our decision to stay outside of downtown because we knew that we’d need to drive into the busy downtown bustle all three days and we had heard about the awful Boston traffic. Truth was, the traffic wasn’t bad at all. At least not nearly as bad as Chicago and the Chicago suburbs. Boston was a breeze compared to what we’ve been living with for decades.

On this first day in Boston, we drove to Lexington and Concord. This is where the Revolutionary War started in 1775. In a way, this was a microcosm of what our trip was all about. We wanted to learn and teach our kids about the important history of the United States of America. How did it start? What happened? What were the important events? Where did they happen and who made them happen? As we learned, it all started in Boston and the surrounding areas. Lexington and Concord does a great job with their bus tours. They had a narrator on the tour bus that explained it all and told interesting stories. Then we would get off the bus and view the sacred grounds of these events. It was fascinating. I had been on the same trip, more or less, in the 1980s and I still remembered many things. The Minuteman statue? I recall standing there 30 years ago. The Boston Tea Party, Paul Revere, Bunker Hill, etc. I remembered most of it. It’s amazing what the brain can recall.

The Minuteman Statue in Lexington, MA.

The lobby in the Homewood Suites in Needham, MA.

Day 8 (Friday, July 13) : Boston

Adversity struck on Friday the 13th. The plan was to go downtown and get on another tour bus that would drive us around all the main sites along the Freedom Trail. We had paid about $120 for four tickets. You’re supposed to be able to hop on and off the bus all day. The problem was the tour bus was always too crowded to board. There were no empty seats on any of the buses all day long! We actually never got on a bus. It was ridiculous. Needless to say, we were all hot, tired, and exhausted after walking everywhere instead of riding. We even took a few cabs but it was disastrous in a sense. On the other hand, it was awesome anyway. Don’t worry, we ended up getting a refund. Surprisingly, we even received a personalized letter from the CEO of the bus company too, apologizing for their mistakes and our trouble. He included free passes for any bus another time. They are set up in several American cities. Not bad.

Despite the change of plans, we saw several amazing places: the Mapparium, Old North Church, Faneuil Hall, Paul Revere’s house, the Swan Boats in Boston Common, and Cheers! We even sat at the famous bench where Robin Williams counsels Matt Damon in “Good Will Hunting”. It was spectacular. A great day filled with sweat, ice cream, history, and an annoying old man who told me to take my hat off in Old North Church…..”Son, remove your hat. This is a church for Godsakes!” I’m kidding about the “Godsakes” part but the rest is a true story. I quickly removed my hat thinking I was a bad person. Then I looked around at about a dozen others wearing hats of all sorts. Hey old man, this one’s for you. Buzz off!

The famous park bench where Robin Williams counsels Matt Damon in “Good Will Hunting”. Look up the scene if you don’t remember. In this case, I guess I’m Robin’s character Sean the counselor and Trev is the rascally obnoxious smart kid who needs therapy, otherwise known as Will Hunting. Sounds about right.

At the top is the Old State House, near the spot of the Boston Massacre. The bottom two were taken at the Old North Church. Natalie did a great job posing as a worshiper a la Teddy Roosevelt. 

Day 9 (Saturday, July 14) : Boston

I finally saw Fenway Park. All these years I’ve wanted to go there to see the Red Sox and their historic park. This was a definite “bucket list” item for me. The ballpark, and the game, didn’t disappoint. I absolutely loved it. Fenway Park is now #1 on my list of favorite ballparks I’ve attended a game at in person. It ousts my previous #1 Giants Park/AT&T Park/SBC Park/Pac-Bell Park in San Francisco. We went to San Fran in 2001 so that ranking held for 17 years! Sorry San Fran, you’ve fallen to #2. Beautiful weather, a spectacular crowd with friendly BoSox fans, the hot dogs!, and a finish unrivaled in my entire 100+ baseball games I’ve ever seen! That’s right. How do you see the best game ever? When it goes extra innings and the home team wins on a walk off grand slam!!! Xander Bogaerts hit it just barely over the Center Field wall to earn the victory. What a day! Unforgettable.

Look at this goofball out on Jersey Street (used to be called “Yawkey Way”). Also, check out the man on stilts!

We met great BoSox fans. Check out this woman who’s clapping behind Deb. She worshiped J.D. Martinez. She always shouted in a thick Boston accent, “Hey J.D., you can have my lucky charms any time.” Therefore, we’ve nicknamed J.D. “Lucky Charms” henceforth.

Trev wanted a “Green Mawnstah” shirt so we bought him one and then took a pic in front of the Green Monster. 

Panoramic shot of the view from our seats. I actually loved the obstructed view because it reminded me of Old Comiskey Park. I’ve never been in a stadium that felt close to Old Comiskey at all until Fenway. This stadium is easily the best ballpark I’ve ever seen. It’s not even that close.

Day 10 (Sunday, July 15) : Boston

Because of the disastrous trolley situation on Friday, we decided to try it again on Sunday except with a different trolley bus company. It turned out well. This time we were able to hop on and off the trolley all day. We saw most of the Freedom Trail, especially the parts we hadn’t already seen on Friday. On this day, we saw Bunker Hill, “Old Ironsides” (the U.S.S. Constitution), the Tea Party Museum, Boston’s “Little Italy” neighborhood, Harvard, and MIT.

The kids with Sam Adams while drinking…..Sam Adams. What! Above that is a pic of them dumping tea into Boston Harbor. I remember doing this over 30 years ago! The museum is better now but the dumping of the tea remains the same.

  My beautiful daughter Natalie and me while I strangely hold a lemonade cup.

This photo summarizes our family well: Mom & Dad are happy and fun and not afraid to get goofy. Trev is a hot dog. Natalie remains calm and wonders what our problem is. Above this is the Lampoon Castle Building at Harvard. Many famous writers including George Plimpton, John Updike, Doug Kenney, and Conan O’Brien have worked here since the inception of the comedic Harvard Lampoon publication was founded in 1876. (I saw a feature story on 60 Minutes recently.) Above that are a couple of photos of the Bunker Hill Monument. 

Day 11 (Monday, July 16) : Boston, MA > Warwick, Rhode Island

On our way out of Boston, we hit Plymouth Rock and drove out on Cape Cod. We created a song that the whole family enjoyed immensely (Must be sung with a Boston accent, i.e. “Cape Cawd”): “Cape Cape Cod, together we will see, Cape Cape Cod, fun for you and me, Cape Cape Cod, surrounded by the sea, Cape Cape Cod, lobsters we will eat”. Sometimes these little things become great memories. A super fun family day that ended with mini-golf and then dinner at the “Lobster Boat”. Yeah you guessed it….one must pronounce it with a Boston accent, i.e. “Lawbstuh Boat”.

Day 12 (Tuesday, July 17) : Warwick, RI > Cooperstown, New York

Driving from Warwick, Rhode Island to Cooperstown, New York was outstanding. The scenery was breath-taking. It’s kind of like going back in time to a world long since left behind. It’s all small country roads to get to the National Baseball Hall of Fame. It’s quite an experience just getting there. And then when you do……wow. We did almost the exact same drive thirty years ago and it was memorable. It remained so three decades later.

Day 13 (Wednesday, July 18) : Cooperstown, NY

Is there anything more fun in the world than going into a sports Hall of Fame? I think not. The Baseball Hall was easily the greatest Hall of Fame I’ve ever seen. Did it seem familiar to what I remembered as a 10-year-old boy? No, not really. Not at all. Memories from thirty-three years ago can be hazy. This is one of them. I’m actually shocked that I have little memory of the Hall. I think my dad was in a hurry to get out-of-town that day. I don’t know for sure. I remember the Babe Ruth statue. I remember a gift shop that I was rushed to make decisions. As a kid I got a “I (heart) baseball” button, a mini pennant, and a mini wood baseball bat. That’s all. I always regretted that. This time, I left no room for regrets.

I went crazy! I spent everything my wife had on pennants, banners, a Chipper Jones HOF jersey, a snow globe (I started a small collection a couple of years ago), magazines, two t-shirts, etc. My wife says I can’t buy anything for a long time. That’s fine. I agree. I’m not sure I’ve had more fun in years!

As for the Hall itself, it is outstanding. There is so much to look at you would need to go back several times just to get a full view of everything. If you wanted to study a particular era, you could spend hours doing just that.

Since we were there about a week before the 2018 Inductions, there were displays of all the new inductees. That made it very special for me because I love this year’s class. The six inductees this year were Jack Morris, Alan Trammell, Trevor Hoffman, Jim Thome, Vladimir Guerrero, and Chipper Jones. You could argue that Thome, Vlad, and Chipper are three of my all-time favorite players. For sure, Vlad and Chipper are two of my faves while Chipper is definitely in my top five favorite players ever along with Mickey Mantle, Joe DiMaggio, Lenny Dykstra, Frank Thomas, and Ichiro. Well, that’s six. OK. Let’s throw in Pedro Martinez, Mark Buehrle, Mike Trout, and Bryce Harper for our Top Ten.

At the end of our big day in Cooperstown, we headed over to the famous Otesaga Resort Hotel on Otsego Lake. It is truly magnificent. All the Hall of Famers hang out here on Induction Weekend each and every year. I can see why they like it. You can sit on the veranda in a rocking chair and take in the beautiful sights of God’s green Earth. Peace abounds. We ate on the porch and heard some stories from the waiter. He said Frank Thomas is one of the nicest guys and best tippers he’s met in his couple years working there. Next time I visit Cooperstown I plan on staying at the Otesaga. It is truly a special place.

Day 14 (Thursday, July 19) : Cooperstown, NY > Elyria, Ohio

Two weeks in a car and hotels can really get you thinking. During this year’s trip, I had plenty of time to reminisce, think about life, and best of all hang out with my family. I am beyond blessed. God has shown his grace and mercy to me in abundance. I shall never forget this year’s vacation. The memories are endless. I shall remember our experiences in Toronto, Niagara Falls, Lake Placid, Boston, Cape Cod, and Cooperstown with great joy and humility. A fantastic vacation that I would obviously highly recommend.

Day 15 (Friday, July 20) : Elyria, OH > Wiersema’s Maplewood Estate, Mundelein, IL

After another super long day of driving, we made it back home to Maplewood. Thank God we made it home safely. It was a magnificent trip that we’ll all remember forever. Two weeks of driving, eating, drinking beers, seeing Halls of Fame, going to baseball games, visiting historic National Parks including America’s Freedom Trail…..it doesn’t get much better. An outstanding trip.

Next year…….Yellowstone Park, Mount Rushmore, the Badlands, Montana, Wyoming, the Rocky Mountains, and Custer’s National Monument, site of Custer��s Last Stand. I already can’t wait! Pack the car. Let’s go right now. Why wait for 2019? Oh yeah, we better save up the money and the vacation days. Get your tour books, your cowboy boots, and your National Park Passport books ready. July ’19 is right around the corner!

Summer 2018 Travelblog Summer 2018 Travelblog When I was a kid our parents took us on a driving trip every summer for two to three weeks.