#and my dumb ass took this as 'oh so you want more arch enemy!' when she meant she wanted more of that dualism metal

[nihiltism]

guy who's only listened to screamo trying to find other good metal bands: it's so weird how people keep recommending me hard rock

[ch4nb4ng]

Evil Roommate

pairing: leeknow x afab!reader, roommates enemies to lovers

warnings: softdom!lino, cheating (mentioned), making out, grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering penetration, cum play (?), praise

requested : yes!

word count 6.2k

summary: the new roommate was a handful. lazy, disrespectful, arrogant, and a whole bunch of other negative things. but wow, you were sexually frustrated and he, well, attractive, was an understatement.

“Can you actually like, wash your kitchen utensils when you're done using them?”

The amount of huffing and puffing you have heard from your new roommate in the past two weeks was ridiculous. If you had a dollar for every time he had gone against anything you had politely asked for, you would be rich by now, and definitely stable enough to move out and away from him.

“I will,” he mumbled, mouth stuffed with half of the carrot he was chewing on, very loudly, “can I not enjoy my food first?”

“No,” you replied without hesitation, giving the fakest of smiles in return, “you should do it before you eat.”

Another eye roll from Minho was like water off a duck’s back.

“I'd also appreciate it if you didn’t talk to me with your mouth full of food either.”

“What the fuck is your problem?”

You coughed, turning on your hills to face a very unimpressed roommate. His stare was eye shattering. Yes, he was very, no, extremely good looking. However, every single thing that made up his personality could not be more different to you. Sloppy, messy, lazy. Took no responsibility for any of his actions, especially the high pitch noises (that obviously were not his) you would hear from his room in the early hours of the morning. You would pinch your pillow together, praying extremely hard that the noise would stop, and by the time it did, you would get maybe 2, 3 hours of sleep. College was becoming tiring, not only from staying up to complete assessments, but the lewd noises you could hear from at least 2 people in his room. Your blunt attitude towards Minho’s unhygienic and disrespectful habits were definitely justified.

“What are you talking about?”

“Why do you nitpick everything I do?”

Your jaw dropped, completely dumbfounded.

“Me? Nitpicking you? Please,” you scoffed, “you don't clean up after yourself ever, you leave your dirty clothes everywhere, and don't even get me started on the fact that I barely get any sleep because of your wild sex adventures with other people that occur almost every weeknight, when you know I have to wake up early to go to class next day.”

A combination of frustration and exhaustion could be heard through the harshness of each breath. The smirk that appeared on his face was absolutely punch worthy. What on earth was there to be so cocky of?

“My wild sex adventures,” he paused taking a bite of the dreaded carrot, “please, tell me more about my wild sex adventures.”

His tongue was now obviously pressed against his cheek, a devil coated smile still very apparent on his face. The longer he was looking at you like that, the hotter your cheeks became. Pure anger began to course through you; all he had to do was sit there and look pretty. It was definitely enough for you to get the green light to slap him across the face.

“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed, “I don’t need to explain how I can hear them moaning your name every night, or the banging I hear from wall to-”

“Hmm,” he hummed, “you seem to be listening very well.”

Distracted by your anger for a brief moment, you gasped suddenly, feeling Minho’s fingertips at your sides. You turned around, swatting his hands away, giving him that slap that you felt you had earned across the face.

“Who the fuck said you could touch me?

“Did you just fucking slap me?”

“Yes I fucking did,” you spat, “what do you take me for?”

“You know what you’re right, but you walk around here with a stick up your ass. I hear you on the phone to your friends, complaining about how you don't get any action from anyone.”

You stood there in disbelief. “So you’ve been eavesdropping on my convos as well?”

“Well it’s kind of hard not to hear, you know, the walls in this house are kind of thin.”

Your jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed, the conversation was at a stand still.

“Can you get to the point please?”

“I sure can sweetheart,” the name sending a shiver down your spine, “if you're that sexually frustrated, go and do something about it instead of taking it out on me?”

A laugh that you didn't even know you were capable of bellowed from your chest. You stumbled back, grabbing onto stool behind the bench for support.

“Me? Sexually frustrated? Please,” you huffed, “I’m not sexually frustrated, and it definitely has nothing to do with you.”

Another scoff escaped your lips as you shuffled back to your room. Closing the door behind you, a heavy sigh came from your chest as you sat on the edge of your bed. How on earth was he able to read you like that? So well and so accurate? It was all you could think about, not to mention the fact that it was also night time simultaneously.

You let your body fall onto your bed sheets. The feeling of restlessness was consuming your body. As you crawled into bed, you looked straight into the ceiling. Why were you thinking about his words so much? Were you really taking it out on him? You shook your head, mentally slapping yourself for even considering the thought.

Minho was a lazy slob who was extremely inconsiderate of others, especially you. But why was the thought of his fingers on your sides becoming the main source of agitation.? The silence of your thoughts was deafening, but they were easily interrupted as soon as you heard the door open, a high pitched voice followed what felt like the most ludicrous creek you had ever heard. ‘I should really put some oil on the door huh?’ You paused for a couple of seconds, this time physically face palming yourself for the dumb excuse you had made to see who he had decided to bring over to accompany him tonight. Legs completely ignoring your brain, you were out of bed, hand twisting the knob and peeking a look at the poor girl that would be subjected to Minho’s torture tonight. Tip toeing out of the doorway, you kept the weight of a feather on your toes, making yourself as invisible as possible.

“Y/n?”

Your pink panther stance of attempted deception looked utterly ridiculous and not sly at all was extremely confusing to the two. You quickly relaxed into a normal stance, the fakest of smiles coming across your face as you see who it is he brought home to have his way with.

“Chaeyeon… heyyy,” you lingered, “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

You would have been happy with literally anyone else. But Chaeyeon? Chaeyeon? It’s like she was your number one arch rival. Minho knew how much you hated her, yet he still let her come over. Everything about her you could not stand, not to mention the fact that she home wrecked your last serious relationship. Even though it was a while ago, you can forgive but not forget, her face being a constant reminder of your hurtful past.

“Oh hey Y/N,” she almost signed, her amount of excitement to see you matching yours, “I didn’t know you lived here.”

The arm he had around her waist made you sick.

“There’s a lot of things you don't know about me,” you mumbled, foot swaying back and forth, eyes focused on said foot.

“Okay, so you guys have had a little reunion,” Minho interrupted. Anything would have been better to break the awkward silence than his sarcastic comments, “we’re gonna go to my room now.”

“NO!” you interjected, covering the hallway with every bit of your being, “I mean, what’s the rush huh? Changbin is coming over as well.”

You paused, Minho’s face clearly cussing you out if yelling was inappropriate at this current moment.

“Uh no thanks Y/N-”

“We should all hang out!”

The excitement coming from your voice was so inauthentic, it was hard to miss.

“Yeah! Let’s all hang out,” you walked behind them, placing a hand on each of their backs and you hurried them to the couch, “I’ll get some beers in the fridge.”

“I actually only drink vodka,” Chaeyeon yawns, obnoxiously twirling her hair, her other hand aggravatingly high on his thigh.

“Oh that’s totally fine,” you gritted through tightly clenched teeth, “we have a bottle in the fridge, I’ll grab that for you as well.”

You scuffled back over to the fridge, mentally cursing yourself as you grabbed the necessary beverages. The confusion you were giving yourself about why you were putting in so much effort to spend time with the two people you literally hated more than anything was mind baffling

“So,” you began again, passing a Corona to Minho, a glass to Chaeyeon, “how have you been finding your course so far?”

You sat the Smirnoff and Orange juice on the table. Yes, you were being nice, but not nice enough to pour the drink for this bitch.

“Oh it was so great,” she smiled, “Jisung and I were living together, it was, well, a dream really.”

The feeling of your nails became prominent in your fists as your fingers caved in. The mention of his name was enough to make you see red, let alone the idea of them being happily together. The itch of your eye begging to roll was becoming too prominent, so much that you had to get up and walk away for a second. You stood up abruptly, confusion etched into Minho’s features. You didn’t want to make this a big deal, but the fact that she continued to gloat about it, long after you stopped listening was enough to reach your breaking point.

“I think I heard my phone ringing from my room, it must be Changbin.”

“I don't think I hear anything,” Minho smirked, plastering his lips on the edge of the bottle. The way his lips wrapped around the tip of the warm glass was something you ‘accidentally’ became fixated on. You puffed your cheeks, storming to your room and somewhat aggressively shutting the door behind you. Scrambling for your phone on the bedside table, you panicked, unclear mind as you scrolled through your phone contacts. You paused, an inducing amount of oxygen filling up your lungs. It did little to calm the irritated tingling sensation in your fingers.

Changbin’s name had finally popped up on your phone after what had felt like a lifetime.

“Hello?”

His voice was husky, guilt panging your chest as you realsied you had probably woken him up from his not very often deep slumber.

“Changbin,” you gasped, “you know how much I love you right?”

“What do you need me to do?”

You snickered at his words. He had been your friend for too long to know that those words would never be said unless you needed something.

“Can you come over,” you pleaded, “Chaeyeon is here with Minho because he invited her over late at night, and I told them you were coming over?”

“Jesus Y/n,” Changbin sighed, a playful chuckle tickling your cheek, “so you want me to come over and make Minho jealous?”

“Wait no wtf,” you jumbled, “make Minho jealous? I just want you to flirt with me and Chaeyeon so she leaves.”

“Mhm yeah,” he chuckled once more, voice laced with sarcasm as he spoke, “I’ll come over, but if you don't sleep with him by the end of the night, I’m gonna be extremely disappointed.”

“Yeah okay whatever just get your ass over here now.”

And with that you abruptly ended the phone call, Changbin giving you no peace of mind. Were you this easy to read by everybody? A frustrated sigh exploded from your chest. The games your head and your heart were playing with were helping you come to no resolution. You sat on your bed, thoughts were running crazy. Now would be a really great time to just put on Netflix and curl into bed, have some snacks and fall asleep, chip trail on ur chest to be found in the morning.

You were interrupted by the very loud knock on the door. Sprinting like your life depended on it, you were relieved. Seeing Changbin’s face had never before given you so much joy.

“Changbin,” you shouted, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace.

“Y/n what are you doing-”

“Shut up and go along with it,” you mumbled into his chest, letting up, but still keeping your body tightly wounded against his. Minho’s jaw became clenched, or were you just imagining things?

Regardless of what it was, your brain quickly shifted to the way Chaeyeon was eyeing Changbin up and down, almost like it was the first time she had ever seen an attractive male. ‘She definitely wasn’t looking at Minho like that when he walked in’ you thought, an unconscious smirk coming to mouth. You bit down on your bottom lip, an extremely poor attempt at masking the satisfaction of your goal being achieved so easily. One step closer to kicking her out, for good, because there was no way you weren’t talking to Minho after this about making an explicit declaration of her abandonment from this house.

“Minho,” he smiled, earning a nod, “Chaeyeon,” he smirked, an almost gag spilling out of your mouth.

“Changbin,” she followed, repeating his smirk, “long time no see.”

She gulped, engulfing a large sip of alcohol into her wicked mouth.

“Let’s play a game!”

“A game,” you questioned, raising an eyebrow, “why would we play-”

“I think that’s a great idea!”

You turned to look at him, a puzzled expression still very apparent on your facial features.

“Get the vodka out from the fridge, and let’s get started.”

***

Two bottles of vodka down, and what looked like 8 bottles of Corona sitting empty on the table, the games that were being played were becoming more difficult to comprehend. Sound of giggle and laughter constantly filled the room as everyone slowly began to lose their minds to the intoxication.

“O-okay, never have I e-ever, done a sexual act in public.”

Filters of chuckles and laughter filled the room as everyone, but you took a sip.

“What?” she asked, offering you her fake sympathy, “you’ve never done anything like that before?”

“I-I mean,” you stuttered, the look of confusion was evident, “I don’t think I have-”

“Yes you have.”

All eyes were snapped open and pressing into Minho’s skull as he began to converse.

“Pfft, no I have not,” you scoffed, taking another swig. An eye roll left came from Minho, followed by a sound of what seemed to be disgust as he shot gunned his current bottle.

“Yes you have,” he nagged, playfully hitting your shoulder, “I saw you.”

Complete silence fell over the room as he words lingered in the air. You genuinely had no idea what he was talking about.The feeling of the room had suddenly changed. His eyes became soft, fixated on nothing but the way your body slumped against the rough material of the couch.

Your mind began to drift. Thoughts floating into earlier scenes of the night. The closeness of his breath fanning your neck ever so softly, palms spread across your hips. The idea of marks on you swimming into your head. God that would feel so good. Letting him grab you and throw you onto his bed. Climbing up your frame, starting from the bottom of your legs, keeping a tight grip on your inner thighs. The feeling of faint lips stealing every inch of your being, tantalisingly hitting every, single, spot, finally reaching your-

“Y/N? Y/N!”

The feeling of Changbin's shaking your shoulders definitely brought you back to reality. His hands did feel nice, but they weren’t the ones you were longing for. Your head was thrown back, disbelief filling you as your mind continued to fill the gutter.

“When?”

As you moved closer, you giggled, placing your finger tip across his knee. You let them dance, index fingers tapping away at the skin you so desperately wanted to see in this moment.

“Mr. Lee Minho, when did you see me?”

“I’m not saying it here in front of-”

“Who? Chaeyeon?”

Your prowling continued, bodies even closer as you slowly began to climb him like an inanimate object. This would have been completely awkward sober. Nothing about this was romantic in the slightest. To an outsider, or Changbin and Chaeyeon, you were right there, situated across Minho’s lap. It wasn’t quite a straddle, it was just something. They both stayed quiet, paying little attention to your animalistic act, already focused on feeling each other up. Or so you assumed, seeing as they didn’t say anything. All that was heard was the sound of the front door. You snapped your head for a quick moment, eyes scanning the emptiness the room suddenly felt.

“It was in the car.”

Minho’s words felt heavy, like he had more to say.

“The car?”

You were taken aback, face moving away from the closeness of his. Part of your brain clicked, remembering exactly what he was talking about. With Jisung. The memory of hurt was quickly forgotten as the feeling of Minho’s palms spread across your body was bringing you to life. The adrenaline came all at once. Your mind was telling you to move away, but your body was saying something else, affirming it’s position.

Minho was leaning in, barely any spaces between the two as his fingertips began to spread lower and lower, firmly gripping either side of your ass as he moved you closer. A helpless whimper escaped your lips as you felt your legs tighten, heat running down to your core, quickly. What the fuck was happening right now?

“You were on top of him,” he whispered, pulling your hips against him once more, “just like this.”

“F-fuck,” was all that managed to slip out of your lips. This was becoming difficult. So difficult to say no and move away. You knew it was the right thing to do. Things would just be awkward and you could go back to hating him. No matter how much you tried, how much you wanted to, you were powerless. Every fiber of your being was being given up to him. You leaned in closer, foreheads now touching as you looked at him. His gaze was anything but lacklustre as his jaw became tense. His body began to ache simultaneously with yours. The pressure was becoming too much.

“Do you want this?”

“What?”

A small whine escaped you at the loss of his tips gripping your body. They quickly made their way to either side of your face. Your body began to rock back and forth on it’s own. You had become desperate for any sort of friction that you could create.

“I said, do you want this?”

“Do you?”

His expression made you nervous. It was hard to read. All you could see was the black substance of his pupils enlarge, increasing in diameter by the second. Almost like a supernatural being was possessing him.

“Fuck,” you grunted, wrapping your hands around his neck to steady yourself on top of him, “you’re making it hard to say no.”

Things were already becoming hazy the longer you stayed. A huff of frustration came from him as he was giving all his effort not to give into the way you were rubbing your dampening heat against him. It was like a drug he could not refuse.

“Kiss me if you want me.”

He huffed, the edge of his lips just barely brushing against the tip of your nose.

“Kiss me, and give me the green light.”

You waited a moment, any part of your brain that wasn't concentrated solely on his palms digging into your sides trying to reason. You looked at him once more. His eyes, nose, lips. His lips.

“Fuck it.”

He was quick to work, pushing you down to lie flat against the couch. A small kiss to your lips was felt as he pulled away, lifting his arms up and throwing his shirt to the floor at Usain Bolt pace. The smirk on your face was too easy for him not to see.

“You like what you fucking see don’t you?”

“Just shut the fuck up and kiss me.”

Of course. Of course he was still that arrogant cocky motherfucker that you could not stand. The one who never cleaned up after himself. Or took too long in the shower for the hot water to run out. All of these evil perceptions you had of your roommate were disappearing as his lips were gently placed onto yours. It was a little too slow for your liking, but it was deep. Boy, was it deep. Each movement of his tongue was made with so much precision as he lowered himself onto you. His thighs were clenched, a soft groan could be heard against his lips as his groin pressed into you. Holy fuck, were you really doing this? It was so wrong. Everything in the world was saying to stop, stop this.

“Mm- wait,” you paused your hands on his chest to push him away, “wait.”

A flash of panic waved over his eyes as he quickly jumped off of you, face palming the floor.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you-”

“I’m fine,” you interjected, giggling at the never been seen care and caution he had for you, “I just don’t think we should do this.”

“Oh,” was all he could say. You kept your gaze lowered; looking at him would have made you feel so guilty. The feeling of regret started to seep into your bones, but you couldn't tell: was it regret of this ever happening, or was it regret from stopping? Your head was too muddled to even attempt to comprehend what had just appended. The only sound that could be heard was your scuffed footsteps, quickly pacing back to your room and shutting the door, hard. The loudest sigh known to earth could be heard on the opposite side of the room as you let your body collapse. The ache between your legs was growing by the second; and as much as you tried to suppress the feeling of Minho’s lips on yours, fingertips dragging along your sides. No. It was much easier this way. Setting boundaries as roommates seemed to be a better idea for the long run.

But the long run was boring. You would both have to pretend that this never happened. Having other people over for sexual purposes would just be awkward now; the more you thought about it, the realisation, and the jealousy hit that you had already crossed said boundary. And maybe that’s why your feet had dragged you to the front of his bedroom door. How the fuck did you get here? You brought your knuckles to the wooden frame, door becoming slightly ajar as you gently knocked. Minho’s snapped his head around, covering himself quickly as you walked in. You cocked your eyebrow, a face of confusion apparent on your face.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he huffed, turning back to his previous position, “what do you want?”

You wanted to just walk out. Mind your business and just leave. But it was hard, quite literally. The imprint of what you assumed to be Minho’s naked lower half painfully pressing into the sheer sheets that was covering him. He paid you no more attention, giving you all the power to initiate whatever it is you wanted to initiate. You slowly crept in beside him, nuzzling your head into the back of his neck as he groaned in annoyance.

“Y/n, what the fuck are you doing in my bed?”

“Hmm, I think I changed my mind,” you whispered, reaching around to grab him. A blunt hiss escaped Minho’s lips as your action made him turn around. He was so close to you now. So close that you could feel his breath spreading across your left cheek.

“Are you being serious right now?”

The look on his face was unimpressed to say the least.

“Yeah, I mean,” your voice was calm as your hand began to take flight, sliding down to the base of his shaft, “we’ve already crossed the line, let’s go a little further.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. He grabbed you by the wrist that was currently on him, pulling it away and climbing on top of you. Both hands now leaving his side, securely attached onto both wrists as he pinned them down above your head. Nose clumsily tickling yours as he reattached his lips to yours. The feeling of his lips was much softer and calmer than before, almost like he was protecting you. Wanting to keep the moment so delicate, though the way his bare hips involuntarily grinding against your clothed core was far from it. A soft whimper came from your lips, vibrating against his. A soft chuckle was heard from Minho as he pulled away; it made you nervous. To be more specific, the way that arrogant, mischievous smirk that you knew all too well was spread across his face.

“You’re so responsive to me,” he growled, quickly planting another one on your lips before sliding down to your jaw, then your neck, stopping at your chest. Nothing needed to be said as you quickly discarded your shirt, silently thanking your past self for not wearing any underneath. Minho situated himself in front of your now bare chest, waist sitting against your heart as he took one nipple into his mouth, fingers enclosing around the other. A loud whine left your lips, back arching in reaction to him. He looked up, satisfied filling his body as you weren’t able to return his gaze, head already rolled all the way back as he continued his playful assault.

“It’s so cute,” he mumbled between kisses, “so responsive and I’ve barely done anything.”

His lips travelled down the center of your stomach, dipping dangerously closer to where you wanted him most. His continuous rhythm between kisses was immaculate. Any of the incoherent sounds you made, or the crude remarks he made were left unsaid.

“Fuck,” you hissed, painfully throbbing at the way Minho played with the waistband of your panties.

“Not fun to be teased y/n,’ he paused, making sure you were looking at him, “is it.”

A pang of guilt hit your chest for a moment. I mean, it’s not like you did it on purpose, right?

“Minho I’m-”

“Save it,” he scoffs, “whether you did it on purpose, or not, I’m not gonna let you have it so easily.”

His fingers stopped their performance across your hips, continuing a little lower than before. The smirk came to his lips once more, index finger running down your slit. The friction was fierce, but not fierce enough. You wanted, no, you needed more. All he could do was smile at your mercy.

“So fun to tease darling, but you’re gonna have to be more vocal if you want these panties off.”

“Minho please,” you whined, “for fucks sake.”

You bucked your hips forward, desperate for any more contact from the bare minimum he was giving you.

“That doesn’t sound very nice to me.”

“Minho please, please, please,” you whispered, voice becoming super weak, “fuck me, or finger me, anything please, I need to feel you.”

“Now that’s more like it,” he smiled, finally pulling your panties down. You have never lifted your hips faster in your life. The vulnerability of your naked body was somewhat confronting, but your brain was so fogged out from the immense teasing, you cared little.

“Fuck,” he gasped, spreading you effortlessly with two fingers, “you’re so wet for me, aren't you?”

The heat in your cheeks rose as you became embarrassed at his words. Minho didn’t know this, but feeling humiliated was something that could make you cum on the spot. Words intended for insult went through your ears and straight down to the core, the heat becoming like an intense fire igniting in your body as one of his hands moved along your inner thigh, the other gently beginning to circle around where you needed him most.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “oh my god Minho please, more.” Your voice was becoming needier by the second, but the longer it went on, the less you seemed to care. His tongue was now a factor coming into play, small kitty licks lapping your clit at a suddenly fast pace. Your legs are already trembling, but Minho does more to appease, hooking his arms under and around your thighs to stop the flustered look on your face. It was confronting how quickly he was getting you to your high.

“Please,” you sighed, eyes hazed as you attempted to look down at the way his tongue was on you. The combination of him sucking on your clit, then pushing it through your entrance almost made you scream. However, the noises that came from your mouth were small, heavy pants, progressively getting louder and louder the tighter the knot in your stomach became.

“Do you wanna cum princess?” His voice was whiny, mocking the tone you had used earlier. You nodded ferociously, knowing any attempt to speak would come out horse or just broken.

“Such a good girl,” he purred, replacing his tongue with two fingers, “but if you want to cum, you’re gonna have to beg for it once more.”

“You’re such a fucking dick,” you groaned, an attempt of grinding your center onto Minho’s fingers failing miserably, “you’re being so unfair.”

“I’m unfair?” he scoffed, beginning his digits back to a bare minimum pace, “you’re the one

who was teasing me all night. I know Changbin is like, your best friend so there was no chance you were bringing him back to fuck him. Then you start to kiss me, hard and fast may I add, AND THEN ! you aren’t sure and you leave me to pretend like nothing happened.”

There was no witty comeback you could say in response because he was right. You were the one who has done the teasing for most of the night.

“You looked so fucked out right now baby,” his tone coming back to a calming medium, “begging for me to make you cum, which I can do right now,” he paused, climbing back to your side, lifting your left leg to continue his easy access to ur clit, “or you can beg even more to have my cock inside of you. The choice is yours.” You swallowed, hard. How could he say something so filthy? Out of all the times you had heard him bring other girls over, he would never talk like this. It was always so nice and calm, full of praise and compassion. Maybe they didn’t act like cock teases and let him just have what he wanted.

“C-cock,” you mumbled, pushing your backside against his now pulsating cock, “please give your cock sir.”

“Ooo sir, I like that one, but you’re gonna have to do more if you want me to fill you up princess.”

Words were becoming extremely hard to not only facilitate in your mind, but put them on your tongue and get out to him. He knew this. He knew your were on the brink of collapsing in cum, but the torture was too entertaining for him nonetheless. Although you're frustrated with him was increasing, you couldn’t lie to yourself that the way he was using you like a sex toy was turning you on. After being up his ass so long with rules around the house and how you wanted things done, it was nice to finally let go. Submit to his rules instead of yours.

“P-please Minho, sir’ you panted, head turning to look at the sadistic face of enjoyment he was having from this, “I’ll do anything, a-anything to have your cock inside of me right now.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Okay then tomorrow morning, you have to make me breakfast, AND wash my dishes.”

“Seriously,” you panted, “that’s what you're thinking about right now?”

“You said anything.” He shrugged, suddenly taking his fingers away from your dripping core. A gasp of disappointment came to your lips at the loss of delicious contact. Minho sat up, ducking under your leg, and positioning himself right back to where he was previously. However, this time, he was on his knees. Although you were touching it before, you really hadn't had a chance to look at how big it was: way more than what you expected. He stroked himself a couple of times, making sure not to get carried away with himself before he pushed it between your folds, letting his pre-cum mix with your juices. He slowly descended into you. Jaws dropping simultaneously, you gasped. The way he was stretching you out did burn a little bit, but once he was fully inside, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Minho waited until the look of slight discomfort faded from your features.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip and he slowly pulled himself back out. He kept a consistent, yet slow pace as leaned in closer to you. He was now hovering over, letting his face become buried into the middle of your breasts. The feeling was so immaculate, you were desperate to cling onto something for support.

“Dig them into me,” he groaned, strangling his vocal cords, “dig your nails into my back and scratch me like your life fucking depends on it.”

Perfect. You did as he pleased, a loud moan of his name wrestling from your lips as you felt the red marks appear on his backside. The pressure from before was already building in your stomach again, and he could tell. The way you were super tight for him was one, but the way you were now clenching around him was another. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer if you kept doing that.

“Fuck,” was all you could manage to say, a deep grin plastered on his face.

“You’re close aren't you,” he cooed, attaching his lips to your neck, “talk to me baby, tell me what you're feeling.

“Mhm, yeah, fuck I’m so close baby. H-Harder.”

The pitch of your tone was becoming whinier by the second. To add to that, the way you became confused, as if Minho was a vampire, because the way he was sucking on your neck was kind of painful. Nevertheless, you relished in it, knowing too well that a very, very dark mark would replace his mouth. The idea of him showing his possession of you, knowing that he finally won you over did not make you happy, nonetheless, you were too fucked out to care.

Your legs were now pushed all the way back, pace fastening by the minute, allowing Minho to push even deeper into you. And that was it. Right there, the spot you had never even known was even there.

“Ah fuck!” Your moan was loud this time, completely unable to control anything. The smirk, in combination with the satisfied growl that left his lips was a face of pure ecstasy as he realised that he had finally hit your G-spot.

“Fuck that feels so fucking good,” Minho grumbled, “are you close? Because I think I’m gonna cum.”

It was like your stomach was an orchestra. Minho’s words were the conductor, completely controlling how close you were to your release.

“Y-yes,” you cried, “I’m gonna cum so hard right now.”

“You wanna cum baby?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna cum right now?”

“Yes baby,” you pouted, a perplexity of sounds escaping your lips, completely out of your control.

“Cum on my cock princess,” Minho whispered through what sounded to be like pained groans, “be a good girl and cum with me inside of you.”

And there it was, like it was on queue as your body completely flopped, legs shaking and a string of lewd curse words fell from your lips. The way your pussy clenched around him was enough to make him pull out, spilling into the dip of your stomach. A loud breath of what seemed to be exhaustion fell from his lips. Your eyes were previously screwed so shut, it hurt when you opened them again, sensitive to the light.

“Fuck,” you both cursed simultaneously, making one another giggle. Minho fell to your left side, flat on his back as he invited you to scooch over next to him. Face pressed against his chest, fingers playfully dragging up and down his torso. For some reason, he felt so safe and secure at this moment. Almost forgetting how he literally just fucked you into oblivion, your eyelids become heavy. It wasn’t until Minho spoke that you were revived from your alternate state of consciousness once more.

“I didn’t know you had it in you.” His voice sounded genuinely surprised, unsure if you should be offended or not. You looked up at him, quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek. He wasn’t sure how to react, but the dark shade tinting his face right now said enough.

“Please,” you scoffed, “You did me good, but was that the best you can do?”

He ran his tongue across his bottom lip, but down on it after, “Is that a challenge?”

You said nothing, instead sitting up and pushing your legs on either side of his hips. A soft moan escaped his lips as he felt your still dripping heat sitting on the base of him.

“Why don’t you find out and see?”

[moonshineboyz]

[17:40]

Pairing: volleyball player!Juyeon × volleyball player! fem reader

Genre: Smut, enemies with benefits

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: swearing, unprotected sex, rough/hate (?) sex, usage of the word slut, mentions of choking and spanking, lowkey public sex, brief fingering

a/n: i know juyeon is not holding a volleyball but let's just pretend. i got this idea from listening to lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off by panic! at the disco 🤠 i'm not sure if i like the ending but,,, (@annyeongffs enjoy bb)

masterlist ♡

“Okay guys, let’s wrap up for today. Both teams did great!” The coach called and everyone got out of their positions, stretching out the tense muscles and walking out of court. “Nuh uh, minus you two Juyeon and Y/N.” He called again making you stop in your tracks. “You’re gonna take the volleyballs and net to the equipment room and pump up the basketballs. That’s what you get for arguing and swearing at each other every five minutes even during practice.”

You cursed under your breath sending a death glare towards Juyeon, who just looked at you expressionless. ‘Stupid son of a bitch.’

The coach left the court with the remaining of your team mates that waved at you from afar. You waved back and went to collect the scattered balls letting the boy get the net, since he was taller.

“If you weren’t so annoying, I could be going to my dorm right now.” He said when you walked past him on your way to the equipment room. You thought in giving a rude reply but bit your tongue not to curse back at him, already feeling your blood boil. “I'm talking to you.” You turned on your heel to face him.

“What do you mean? It’s your fault! You were throwing the ball too far for me to catch it in time!” You snarled.

“Isn’t it the whole point? Make the ball touch the floor on your adversary's side? I think you're just complaining because you're not that good of a player." Juyeon had just finished getting the net out of the first pole and glared at you with a raised brow. He really was getting under your skin.

"For your information, I'm the second best in the female team. I just can't deal with bullshit coming from a jerk like you."

Fuming, you turned your back again, walking away to fight back the temptation of throwing one of the balls in your arms directly at his annoying handsome face. Juyeon knew exactly how to get on your nerves and you couldn't stand having to be in the same room with him for too long without getting annoyed or bickering.

You were looking into the lockers searching for a second air pump, since there wasn't any other way and you had to pump up the balls, the best option was to you two do it separately so you could go home as soon as possible. While you were at it Juyeon entered the equipment room bringing the net and you quickly thought of a way to get yourself out of that situation.

"Here, the air pump." You handed him the object, to which he accepted but kept looking at you puzzled. "I didn't find another one, so, you do it."

"And what you're gonna do?"

"Go home!? What else do you expect me to do? Blow out the balls like they're balloons?" Your eyes rolled at how he scoffed at you, arms crossing in front of your body.

"I mean, I know something else you'd like to blow." A cheeky grin grew on his lips and past scenes of his dick on your mouth flashed through your mind.

“Shut the fuck up, will you? You’re so fucking annoying.” You raised your voice taking the boy aback for a moment, your jaw clenched and brows furrowed. “I can’t even stand looking at y-"

The words died at your throat as Juyeon dropped the air pump to grab your jaw firmly, pushing you up against the nearest wall. He was close, his tall figure towering over yours as he looked down at you with dark eyes.

“If you want to yell at me so bad, then I'll give you a reason to do so.” He muttered through gritted teeth and you could feel he was getting mad as well.

“Fuck you.” You scoffed trying to masquerade the fact that your heart was beating fast.

“Oh, you just did on semi-finals night, darling.” Juyeon let go of your face to brush his knuckles against the skin of your cheek, trailing south till it reached the side of your neck. You wished you didn’t shiver at the light touch, making it obvious to him that you enjoyed it. “Speaking of which, where have you been these past weeks? Were you too busy with that asshole from the basketball team?”

You didn’t even notice when you started to hold your breath but you were already feeling intoxicated by the low tone of his voice, knowing exactly what he was implying. His longs fingers wrapping around your throat not helping at all, and you thanked the sound of your racing heart wasn’t audible.  

“Why? Jealous much?” It took everything in you to let that out in a disinterested voice, sticking to an attitude not to let him win in any circumstance.

“C'mon, doll, you know I'd never date you; this is just for the fun. You’re just someone to hook up with.” He took a step closer, few inches away to press his body against yours. His skin was still glistening from the after practice sweat and you could almost say he looked hot, even though your mouth told otherwise.  

“And that’s all you can get after all. You’re good in bed but you’re as charming as a rock. No surprise you’re single.” Juyeon quirked a brow, his eyes dark as ever.

“Aw, you’re not attracted to me? Yeah, keep lying to yourself, darling. This is the most fun you can have besides taking your clothes off, isn’t it?” His breath fanned at your lips as the grip on your throat tightened, making him chuckle when a small moan dared to scape you. “Gosh, I really missed your pretty little pussy swallowing my dick and you screaming my name.”

You hated Juyeon to the moon and back with your whole being. He was arrogant, full of himself and egocentric, but what you hated the most was the fact that he knew how to touch you and make you feel things in a way you’d never experienced before, and you’d never admit that out loud. You'd never admit to his face how you also missed him pounding into you while you hooked up with other guys.

It was hard to recall when or even how you two started having this type of relationship, an 'enemies with benefits' kind you could say, because you clearly weren’t friends at all. You would pay not to have to spend the practice time looking at his face, and Juyeon would rather die than bumping into you in the hallways.  

But both couldn’t deny the sexual tension, and maybe that’s what led you to it, or maybe that was only a tactic to release stress, and you just happened to be there for each other. What’s a better way to calm your nerves than fucking your enemy? The sex was great after all and you couldn’t name any other boy who has ever made you cum so hard. Perhaps the hate towards each other really did add fuel to the fire and made things more interesting, competing who could make the other orgasm the fastest.

"I hate you so much." You said trying not to moan again when Juyeon pressed his torso against yours, sneaking his knee between your thighs, to which you rolled your hips grinding down on it.

"It's reciprocal, I just like to fuck you dumb." His hands went to your waist, grabbing hard and pulling you more into him. You were already melting at the tip of his fingers and didn't think twice before crashing your lips together and tugged at his hair with force as he moved his leg to cause more friction on your core. His big hands roaming all over your body roughly and squeezing your ass. A hiss came out of Juyeon's lips when you scratched his back underneath the shirt, sure to leave red marks. "Don't start a game you know you're gonna lose."

Juyeon pulled you by the wrist to the old desk to careless bend you over it. You couldn't lie saying you didn't like how everything was rough with him, it made a shiver run down your spine every time he kissed you hard and pulled your hair as you cursed at him digging your nails into his skin. He never cared about whether or not he was leaving bruises on your hips, neck and inner thighs, but neither did you. You secretly enjoyed admiring them later in the mirror.

“Here? Really?”

“It’s not like we haven’t done this before. Plus, everyone left, you can scream all you want.” A hand came down hard on your right ass cheek making you yelp. Another smack on the left side and you winced in pain arching your back. “You look good in the team's uniform, but look even better when I'm filling you up.”

He massaged your ass before harshly pulling your tight shorts down to your ankles and you stepped out of them, feeling his hands travel up your legs and holding your hips to press his hard on on your clothed core. You sighed grinding against him, your mind already getting hazy.

The boy brought you up to leave hungry kisses down your neck and bit on the curvature. Your breath hitched when his short nails raked the skin of your belly and you let your head rest on his shoulder, closing your eyes lost in the sensations. “Now tell me, is it still me that makes you sweat? Did you think of me when you were in bed with them?” He growled in your ear biting your lobe, making you grind harder.

“Not even for a second, didn’t even cross my mind.” Lucky you your mouth worked faster than your body so you didn’t dumbly nod agreeing with him. “You’re good but not the best.” You weren’t even ashamed in lying.

Juyeon let out a dark chuckle and grabbed your throat while the other hand squeezed one of your breasts. “We both know I've got a hotter touch, a better fuck than any guy you’ll ever meet. Or else you wouldn’t be coming back begging for my cock whenever you feel horny.”

“You wish.”

“Then why are you still here?” He teased licking your neck and smirked when you shuddered.

“Didn’t you say you missed my pussy? Then fuck me already.” You huffed impatient to which his only answer was to rub circles in your clit over your damp underwear. Juyeon pushed you back to bend over the desk, quickly and roughly pulling your panties down that you’d had stumbled if you were standing straight. “You’re gonna rip my panties, you asshole.”

He scoffed, slapping you once again. “You didn’t complain the other times I did.” His hand palmed himself through the shorts while the other went to your core, fingers playing with your wet folds. You whimpered when he slid one digit inside and added a second right after already moving, making your back arch. “Think I need to remind you that you’re just a fuck toy, not some porcelain doll. They must’ve treated you so nicely, but you like it rough, don’t you?”

Juyeon removed his fingers from you and pulled his own shorts down just enough to free his member and teased your slit with the tip, making you bite your lip in anticipation. Your breath got cut short when he gripped your waist and pushed in in one quick thrust, his cock disappearing into your warmth and your pussy clenched at the feeling of every inch of him stretching you open.

He didn't give you time to even take a deep breath and started moving in a fast pace, grabbing your hips with force. You could feel your whole body getting hot, sweat starting to form on your temples, skin prickling. "How someone so annoying like you have a pussy so good?" He groaned giving a hard, sharp thrust making you gasp and lifted your right leg to put over the desk. You were there so open for him; bent over that he could do anything. And you enjoyed every part of it.

Breathy moans were leaving your lips mixing with obscene wet sounds from your dripping cunt and his hips slamming yours recklessly now, going deeper and deeper inside you. Juyeon was holding you so strong and digging his nails in your skin that you were sure it'd leave bruises. "F-fuck, Juyeon!" You screamed out when he pulled almost all of his length out just to pushed it back in with a quick motion. He smirked to himself and kept repeating it, just to see you writhe and lose your mind.

His hand pulled your ponytail to which you winced but couldn't contain a moan. Your knuckles were turning white holding onto the desk for dear life as Juyeon completely rammed into you. "Not so talkative right now, huh?" He grabbed both your arms, pinning them behind your back with his own hands. "Look at you clenching so desperately. Gonna cum on my cock like a good slut?" His voice was low, watching your whole body shake as you approached your high, loud and breathy sounds escaping your lips.

You came crying out his name, shaking violently and trying to roll your hips back to get more of him. Juyeon pulled out slowly, feeling your walls fluttering and you whimpered at the emptiness. Even though you were sensitive, Juyeon's dick was so good that it never failed to make you want more and more.

A last sigh left you before you got pushed to your knees facing his cock. "Now be the good little slut and you are and put this mouth to a better use."

[silkenstarlight]

body is a temple

Summary: Bucky and reader are training when she finds him staring at her ass. She tries to rile him up, but quickly learns that he doesn’t tolerate teasing.

Pairing: Personal trainer!Bucky x reader

Warning/s (18+ only, minors dni): enemies to lovers, dirty talk, degradation, spanking, multiple orgasms

Word count: 2.8k

My masterlist

Join my taglist

Author’s note: i wrote this while wine-drunk, so if it’s extra horny, you know why

“Fuck!”

You tumbled onto the mat, back slamming against cool polyethylene. The breath whooshed from your body in a dramatic, crushing exhale, your lungs desperately trying to pull in air but failing beyond shallow, raspy puffs. Bucky looked down at you, the fluorescent lights of the gym feathering behind his head in a blinding halo, smirking as he drank in the image of you sprawled on the mat below him, completely at his mercy. He let you lie there for one, two, three seconds, before holding out his hand for you to grab onto. It was a kind gesture, something that completely contrasted with his previous rough treatment. You squinted and firmly grasped his hand, feeling your back leave the mat as he propped you upright again.

“Is that the best that you can do, (Y/N)?” He stepped back, walking to the edge of the mat and retrieving your water bottle for you.

You huffed, raspy breathing slowly returning to normal. “Is this really necessary?”

He handed you your water bottle, frowning. “Of course it’s necessary.”

“I was told that you would be my personal trainer. Nowhere in the program description did it say that you were going to beat my ass all day,” you shook your head, slightly incredulous, and took a few grateful gulps from the water bottle. You felt more comfortable talking back to him because you were the last ones left in the gym today, with no one but him to overhear your complaining. You had expected some light cardio, maybe some weight training, when you had signed up for individual sessions with a personal trainer at your new gym. You didn’t think you would be paired right away with Bucky, who seemed to exclusively work with experienced heavy lifters, and you definitely didn’t think he would take it upon himself to teach you self-defense, a skill which he was surprisingly extremely well-versed in. Every day for the past week, you had ended up in a similar supine position on the mat, beaten and scrambling for air, accumulating a mottled collection of nasty bruises and scrapes on your knees and elbows. The most frustrating part was that he remained unscathed through it all. Every time, it was you on your ass, and him helping you up. It made you want to scream.

Well, that actually wasn’t the only thing about this whole situation that made you want to scream. He was incredibly good-looking, exactly your type, all brooding looks and dark eyes. You actually had to pick your jaw up off of the floor when he walked in to your first session last week. But, the worst part was, he was a cocky bastard. He had to know the effect he had on you, and yet, he chose to do nothing about it.

“Well, you’ll just have to do better if you want me to stop crushin’ you every time.” He dabbed at his forehead with the hem of his shirt, and even though he frustrated you to no end, it took everything you had in you not to let your eyes drift down to look at his toned stomach.

“Now I think you’re just trying to make me mad.” You huffed, walking to the edge of the mat and returning your water bottle to its perch, preparing for another round.

“Well, if I’m pissing you off, why don’t you use that anger? Beat me. Just once,” he smirked, as if firmly believing that you couldn’t, that you didn’t have it in you. But, you were just stubborn enough to take the challenge.

“Fine.” You cocked your head and gritted your teeth, digging your heels into the mat and crouching in a ready position. 

“3… 2… 1… start.” The ghost of a smirk still graced his face, but he was concentrating on your movements now, eyes darting as you approached.

Jab, cross, jab. Knee, high kick, and--

“Damn you, Barnes.” 

One quick sweep, and he had you pinned. You wanted to scream, to thrash in frustration, but his body pressing against your back limited any movement on your part. Wonder if he likes having me pinned like this. You tried not to let that thought develop further, lest the heat you had worked up from sparring travelled up your neck for him to see, or worse, somewhere farther south--

“Why are you still panting, (Y/N)?” You could feel a puff of hot breath against your ear as he chuckled.

Fuck. “My, uh… my asthma must be acting up again.” 

“Didn’t think you had asthma.” He flipped off of you, arching a brow as you slowly stood.

“Forgot to tell you, then,” you fibbed, trying at all costs to avoid spilling the truth, that your panting was the effect of an illicit fantasy that you had thought about in bed, alone, on more than one occasion.

“Uh huh,” he said, unconvinced. You both got into a ready position again.

“3… 2… 1… start.”

This time, you took more of a defensive strategy, evaluating him before striking. Maybe, if you weren’t so focused on completing the flourishing movements, on hitting with perfect precision and strength, you could anticipate his attack instead. You circled around each other like sharks, his eyes glinting almost hungrily, but doing nothing to bely his next move. It was like trying to size up a brick wall.

Suddenly, he darted forward with a speed that no man his size should have, and he swept your legs from under you, flipping you with ease. You fell ungracefully in a prone position, cheek smacking the mat, eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment. You groaned, aching muscles begging for you to stop and rest instead of getting up and accepting his challenge. You pressed your forehead into the mat, weighing whether it was worth the hassle of asking him to cut your session short today, when you noticed that he was completely silent.

You furrowed your brows, eyes flying open. Every time he had defeated you in previous rounds, he had uttered some sarcastic, infuriating quip, trying to rub in his victory even more. But he hadn’t said anything yet.

You pushed your chest up off the mat, craning your neck to look back at him. He was obviously looking at your body, eyes transfixed on your lower half, but when he sensed your sudden movement, he broke out of his trance. He quickly got up from his kneeling position, clearing his throat and walking to the water jug on the far wall. A smile slowly grew on your face as you realized that he had been staring at your ass.

You stood up, slowly walking toward him, assessing him with a sly expression on your face. “Were-- were you doing what I think you were doing just then?”

His back was to you as he filled a little paper cup with water. “If you mean pummelling your sorry ass into the mat yet again, then yes.” His voice still carried its usual snarky tone, but it shook slightly, as if he were just caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Not exactly what I meant.” You stepped closer until a foot separated you, and he turned around to face you.

“Then what do you mean, doll?” He smiled smugly, but you noticed the pink blush that was creeping its way up his neck.

You hummed a laugh. “What I mean, Barnes,” you cocked your head, relishing how your sudden onset confidence wiped the smirk from his face, “is that you were enjoying the view back there. Isn’t that right?”

Now it was his turn to huff a laugh. “Well, what can I say? You’ve got a nice ass. Gotta get something out of these sparring sessions.”

You scoffed. “Fucking pervert.”

“Call me that again.” His tone was more serious, suddenly bereft of the saccharine sarcasm you were so used to.

You paused, weighing his tone against the risqué direction the conversation was heading, and you smirked, deciding to provoke him further. “You’re a fucking pervert. Beatin’ girls up, just so you have a chance to get a good, long look at their bodies. What the fuck is up with that? Can’t get some like a normal person, can you?”

He let that sink in, head dipped, eyebrows raised. But then, a thought seemed to cross his mind, and a wicked smile crept onto his face. He looked at you with hooded eyes, and your stomach flipped, unsure if you were extremely turned on by your sudden proximity to him, or if you were preparing to balk.

“You’re going to regret saying that.” His voice was low, rasping with something you’ve never heard from him. Your mind was telling you to back up, to leave this encounter before it got messy, but your feet stayed rooted in position as he bridged the gap between your bodies. He grabbed your shoulders and turned you around before pinning you roughly against the wall.

“You know,” he said, breath hot against your ear, “you really shouldn’t be calling me a perv, when I know exactly what goes on in that head of yours during our training.”

“Wh- what do you mean?” You decided to play dumb, hoping that he wasn’t astute enough to deduce your secret, licentious desires.

“Oh, you know. Whenever I pin you, you’re always blushing.” He laughed mockingly. “It’s cute. It’s like you secretly want to be dominated.”

You huffed a breath as his hands traveled down your waist, before settling gently on your hips. His lips dragged across the shell of your ear and down your neck, pressing against your pulse point. You arched your back, grinding against the hard bulge that was forming in his shorts.

“Is that right, (Y/N)? You want me to pin you down and fuck you dumb?” He mumbled against your neck.

A wanton moan tumbled from your lips in response, but it wasn’t good enough for him. His fingers dug harshly into your hips. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes, p-please.” You hated how breathy your voice was, but you were too overtaken by desire to care whether he was just doing this to get a reaction from you.

“Please what?” You could feel his mouth curl into a smile as he reattached his lips to your neck, sucking lightly.

“Please, please, please, fuck me, Bucky.” Another moan slipped from your mouth.

“That’s better, baby.” His fingers relaxed against your hips, tracing upwards to the hem of your leggings. He tugged them down with your underwear so that they settled just below your ass, and he pulled back slightly to look at your bare backside.

“Goddamn,” he said, voice gravelly and low. He squeezed one cheek with his hand, kneading it slightly before letting it go and slapping it. “Been dreaming of this ass. It’s just as good as I imagined.”

You gasped, giggling. “So, I was right.”

“Right about what?” He asked, pulling down his shorts and freeing his cock before pressing it against your backside, hot length already dripping with precum.

“You’re a fucking perv, Bucky Barnes.” You smiled coquettishly.

He stilled behind you, and you could feel his glare burning a hole through the back of your neck. You kept smiling anyways-- this was the exact reaction you had hoped for.

He guided the tip of his member down to your slit, dragging it from your perineum to your clit and back again to gather your wetness, before completely sheathing himself inside of you in one motion. You moaned loudly in response to the harsh intrusion, body struggling to accommodate his size.

“Thought you learned not to call me that,” he said, voice level, unbothered by the fact that you were throbbing around him.

“Guess I n-never learn.” Your voice was barely a whisper as he began to move, slowly thrusting to allow your body a chance to adapt to the thrilling ache of being so completely full. It was a harsh sensation, but it felt good, each stroke dragging pleasantly against your tight walls.

“Oh, you’ll learn.” His left hand travelled up your body, drawing under your shirt and flipping the band of your sports bra up. Your breasts bounced free, full and heavy. “Let’s see those pretty little tits, huh?”

He pinched one nipple, rolling its rosy, peaked bud between his cool metal fingers and making you squeal in delight. You ground back against him, encouraging him to move faster inside of you.

“You like that?” He switched to the other nipple, kneading your breast gently in his hand, and you arched into the motion. “That feel good?”

You bit your lip and shook your head, trying to swallow your moans, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing you fall apart so quickly and completely at his hands. “N-no.”

“You know,” he said, driving into you harder and harder with each thrust, but remaining frustratingly unperturbed and casual, “you don’t have to lie to me. I feel how drenched you are. You can admit how good it feels, baby.” His feigned affectionate tone, paired with the way that the tip of his cock was starting to brush against your g-spot, made you cry out. His permission to let go just made you want to disobey him even more, but the pleasure was slowly overtaking your body, overriding your sense of shame. You rocked on your heels, trying to take back some semblance of control, but when his left hand dragged from your breast to your neck, squeezing slightly, you were a goner. You shattered around him, your muscles fluttering around him and coaxing a gruff moan from his throat. But, he kept his focus, fucking you through your orgasm and watching your face as he did, your eyes scrunched shut and your lips dropped open in a soft “o.” He let go of your throat and you gasped. 

As the waves of your orgasm subsided, he refused to slow down, his unrelenting pace repeatedly hitting your deepest point. You could feel him grinning stupidly at you, proud that he had already coaxed an orgasm out of you despite not cumming yet himself.

“B-Bucky,” you whined, your body limp against his. Though your first orgasm had abated, you quickly felt tension building again inside of you.

“Not so cocky now, are you, (Y/N)?” He said between heavy breaths. You knew he was close, just by the sound, but you also knew that he wouldn’t leave this room without teasing another orgasm from your body. “So docile once I put my dick in you.” He panted, laughing at the way you mewled and gasped around him.

His hand drifted down to where your bodies met, finding your clit in the slippery mess of your combined arousal. He pressed his fingers against it in erratic little circles, your body keening for him, completely at his mercy. 

“Look at that, makin’ you gush around me again,” he said, almost to himself, reveling in your neediness. “Looks like I win at this, too.” And, with that, you were done for.

Your muscles squeezed around him in a sweet, warm vice, and he groaned at the sensation of you cumming around him a second time. You mewled pathetically, body spent with unabashed pleasure. He followed closely behind you, losing himself inside of you and spilling his arousal in hot, vulgar stripes. His head was thrown back, claiming your body as his in sweet, silent throes. Once his hips finally stilled, his body slumped against yours, completely and utterly spent. You stayed like that for a moment, leaning up against the wall, the battle between you clearly over. And then, he grasped your hips, his cock slipping out of you with a vulgar sucking sound.

You bent down, pulling up your pants, when you heard him clear his throat. You looked back, reaching underneath your shirt to pull your sports bra back down over your tits, when he chuckled. You arched a brow, but he just shook his head slightly. “That was… much more fun than beating you up.”

You frowned slightly, but when you saw his goofy smile and suddenly relaxed demeanor, you couldn’t help but mirror his expression. “Does that mean that we get to do that, instead of my training?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” he said sternly, crossing his arms but smiling slyly nonetheless. “But, we can do it outside of training. As long as I get to take you to dinner first,” he added quickly, his voice almost shy as he averted your gaze.

You smiled, laughing, and he looked up, expression nervous. Now, you shook your head. “Considering how good you just fucked me, I should be the one buying you dinner.”

He smirked, grabbing your water bottle and handing it to you, his fingers brushing against yours. “Now, that’s an offer that I can’t refuse.”

[hxwks-gf]

😩 I wish we were friends irl so I can make you some celebratory cookies for 1k!! You totally deserve it! 🥳

I hope I can do this matchup request correctly 😂.

Bakugou is my comfort character. I think I picked him bc I see myself in him but I'm not as aggressive as he is. I think we both tend to let our feelings come out in a more aggressive type of way. I don't like anyone else to bully my friends other than me as well, so I think that's another thing I we have in common lmao.

My favorite troupe is enemies to lovers (not sure why). It's just something about 2 people developing feelings for each other from butting heads a lot that's just so satisfying.🤌🏽✨ Oh and don't get me started on those relationships where the guy is an ass but has a SOFT SPOT for his boo!! 🥴 And his s.o has to like LEARN how to take care of him/understand him bc he doesn't know how to express himself (me too tho👀).

I'm short asf (5'0" to be exact). I am USUALLY a happy go lucky person and try not to let a lot bother me, but I also hide how I feel a lot. It's a reflex atp 😂. So usually I seem irritable and annoyed to others when they try to help me and I want to fix it myself (aka I know I need help but I don't want it). I love to help others! So ig my role in mha would be to heal people or help if ABSOLUTELY necessary (I'm not coordinated enough to fight fr fr). I've always thought about my quirk being something like a siren/telepathy type of thing. I alter other people's reality and disorient them if needed with my voice depending on my pitch or the melody of the tune.

Hope that's enough! Haha congrats again!

I WILL TAKE VIRTUAL COOKIES MY DARLING, THANK YOU SO MUCH 💞✨❤️🥺

hxwks-gf’s 1k follower event!  *✧･ﾟ:*

“Will you just listen to me for once?” you snapped, trying to step in front of Bakugo. “This is supposed to be a team effort, you know. You can’t solve everything yourself.”

Bakugo scoffed and side-stepped out of the way, turning his nose into the air. “Oh yeah? Watch me.”

You wanted to rip your hair out. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“Are you going to finish this rescue mission or not?”

“I’m trying to finish it, but you’re not working with me!”

Bakugo turned his back to you and continued walking, his footsteps echoing through the ruined building. “Either follow me or go back to the agency. I’m sure they’ll send another incompetent hero that will just whine and complain the whole time.”

“You’re an asshole,” you seethed, but you followed him anyway. “I thought you grew out of that shit after we graduated.”

“Shut up and let me work, will you?”

God, he was insufferable. You had known him most of your life and had accepted a position at his agency not too long ago, hoping he had grown out of his incorrigible attitude, but you were sorely disappointed.

The rumble of falling debris pulled you out of your thoughts, and before you could figure out where it was coming from, Bakugo was turning around with an expression of horror and shoving you out of the way. Senses regained, you quickly tumbled into a roll and safely got to your feet once the debris had stopped falling. 

“Bakugo?” you coughed, waving your hand in front of your face to disperse the dust as it settled. “Bakugo, are you hurt?” 

There was no answer. 

“Bakugo!” you called again, already feeling the panic setting in. “Answer me!” 

A moment later: “God, why do you have to yell so loud?” 

You shoved a piece of rubble out of the way and saw his face peeking out from beneath it, covered in dust and dirt. He blew some of it off of his lips and glared at you. 

“Are you going to help me out of here or not?” he snapped.

You rolled your eyes and gripped his hand, pulling him free in a waterfall of broken concrete and rebar. He dusted himself off and held up one of his gauntlets, dented from the impact. 

“You pushed me out of the way,” you said, staring at him. “You...saved me.” 

“Tch,” he scoffed, inspecting his bruised gauntlet closer and turning away from you. “Don’t go getting ideas.” 

“Bakugo...” You paused and bit your lip. “Thank you.” 

He looked up and scowled, but was unable to hide the blush that had crept into his cheeks. “You’re welcome. Dumbass.” 

“Are you always this insufferable?” 

“Are you?” 

“Are you hurt at all?” you asked, stepping closer to study his head in case he had gotten injured by the falling debris. Without thinking, you reached up and ran your fingers through his hair to get rid of the dust, as well as feel for any wounds. The entire time, Bakugo stayed completely still and just...stared at you. 

“What?” You dropped your hands and stepped back. “What’s that dumb look for?” 

“Nothing,” he muttered, lowering his eyes. “I’m not hurt.” Saying nothing else, he cleared his throat and gestured towards the rest of the building. “Let’s finish this.” 

The rest of the rescue mission went by smoothly, and you found yourself back at the agency in Bakugo’s office watching the city skyline light up as the sun went down. You should’ve been focusing on the rest of the paperwork for the mission, but your mind kept wandering to the way Bakugo acted after you had touched him. Never in your life had you seen him stand so still, so quiet. 

“What are you still doing here?” Speak of the devil. 

You turned around and saw him standing there by the door, dressed in street clothes. “Finishing the reports, because I know you won’t do it.” 

Bakugo rolled his eyes and adjusted his scarf. “It’s late, (y/n). We can take care of it tomorrow.” 

“The HPSC will be up your ass if you miss one of these again.” 

“Goddammit,” he groaned, kicking at the linoleum floor, but he dropped his bag and sat on the edge of your desk, looking down at the stack of paperwork in front of you. “Fine.” 

“Lucky for you, all you need to do is sign them,” you teased, holding out a pen. “I already took care of the rest.” 

Bakugo blinked at you. “All of it?” 

“All of it,” you repeated, wiggling the pen. “Figured I owed you one after you pushed me out of the way earlier. Consider my debt paid.” 

“I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if you got hurt on my watch,” he muttered, staring at his feet. He noticed your dumbfounded expression and a furious blush colored his cheeks again. “Don’t get the wrong idea! I was just doing my job.” 

“Right,” you grinned, arching an eyebrow. “Will you just sign the reports, please?” 

He was at a loss for words, but reluctantly took the pen and leaned over the paperwork. You got up from your chair and pulled your coat on as he scrawled his name, picking up your bag and moving towards the door. 

“Oh, you’re walking me home, by the way,” you casually threw over your shoulder. You could feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of your head. “Is that a problem?” 

Bakugo dropped the pen and fought to keep his pace even as he caught up with you and flicked off the light. “No,” he growled, leading you out of the agency and into the chilly night air, not-so-innocently placing his broad hand at the small of your back. 

Maybe he wasn’t that insufferable. 

[bymoonchild]

Get You The Moon (M)

Pairing | Taehyung x Reader Genre | Fluff, smut, angst / College!AU, enemies to lovers!AU, football!AU,  jock!Taehyung x student reporter!OC Warnings | Explicit language, sarcastic banter, dirty talk, blowjob, facefucking, eating out, cumplay, cum-dumpster, fingering, rough sex, slight dom!tae, spanking, degradation, unprotected sex, ass-pining, tae has the phattest ass and dick but wbk Summary | Life has its ways of fucking with you, but you know you’ve hit 50 feet below rock bottom after being tasked to do a profile feature on Kim Taehyung, the varsity football captain, for your school newspaper. Pure torment awaits you, but this is alongside glassy eyes, pink cheeks and conflicted feelings that you’ve never dared to imagine with the likes of the devil incarnate. Word count | 19.6k 

“What a surprise, you’re alive.”

It is exactly that fake enthusiasm and subtle mirthful nuance that’s too familiar to your liking that gives rise to the arch of your eyebrow. You don’t even need to look up at the owner of the voice to picture the shit-eating smirk that belongs to none other than your editor-in-chief-slash-best-friend, Min Yoongi. Such morbid greetings have been long established as an inside joke between the two of you due to the peculiar sense of humour that you two share.

This is just how he likes to start his mornings. Being the systematic person he is, he has his own morning routine in the newsroom. Regardless of the pile of work on his desk, he’ll first make a beeline for his first cup of coffee of the day, after which he will come sauntering your way to provoke you with his laundry list of snarky remarks – about work, being tired, being alive and dead, about how bureaucracy sucks, the negative sides of capitalism and what not. Well, you two share a deep-seated sense of misanthropy so albeit provocative, his laments are refreshing in the morning – a literal morning boost of positivity from negativity.

“Not for long buddy,” you shrug, looking up from your laptop and your eyes land on Yoongi, who looks just as dead.

“I barely slept last night – was busy rushing my essays. Essays, might I repeat. So it would be great if you don’t have much for me today, although I know you have a kink for torturing me.”

At this, the edges of his lips curl up and you instantly register the meaning behind the sinister smile: your impending doom.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I do have something for my most talented and gung-ho reporter and best friend.”

“Kindly elaborate,” you smile back acrimoniously, squinting your eyes in distrust.

“It involves a profile feature of a popular varsity athlete.”

An involuntary groan escapes your lips almost instantly. Athletes are the worst people to interview.

“That’s not even the worst part yet. As we’re celebrating the 50th anniversary of our publication this year, we’ll be doing a special spread on honorary members of the school, including club presidents, captains and valedictorians. Oh, which reminds me – maybe I should feature myself for being the most overworked Editor-In-Chief because this publication is sucking my entire soul, but anyway, I digress.”

He brings up his mug to his lips. It’s only 10am, but you wonder how many cups he has had, eyeing the pallor of his face.

“I’ve already assigned the other reporters their respective targets for the lack of a better word, and left the toughest nut for you to crack,” he grins smugly and that’s when it hits you.

Clocking you square in the face.

“Yoongi, no you didn—”

“Yoongi, yes,” his smirk widens at your aghast expression, “A profile feature on Kim Taehyung, for my most talented and hardworking reporter.”

Kim Taehyung.

Your biggest nemesis.

The boy who lives to torment you.  

Literally everyone in school and their mother (or their dog) knows him because 1) he’s quite a looker (he’s known for having a god damn symmetrical face and you’re honestly baffled and amazed at how people even took the time to check the degree of symmetry), 2) he’s the captain of the varsity football team (cue the huge hoo-ha about varsity captains), 3) he’s probably slept with everyone in school and their mother (okay, that’s an exaggeration, but he is a dumb fuckboy to the bone), and 4) he’s also the poster boy for the department of narcissistic and annoying fuckboys, star football player and all that jazz.

“What the fuck?”

You challenge the carefully hidden astonishment reflected in Yoongi’s eyes, disregarding how the other reporters in the newsroom have jumped in their seats at your abrupt outburst.

“You know I fucking hate him!”

Yoongi, per contra, does absolutely nothing to show the slightest of empathy, simply because he has none, and even finds the scowl on your face hilarious, “Which is exactly why you’re the perfect person for this story.”

“There must be someone else whom I can cover. Please, Yoongi – I really, really don’t want to take this up.”

“Listen,” he sighs, running his hand through his fingers and you know that signifies that his sigh is genuine, “As your friend, I’m really sorry that you’ve been assigned to this story, but there’s no one more suitable than you. No one does profiles as incredible as you. Look, you just need to follow him around for a week – observe how he is in class, what he does after class and how he performs on the field. I can promise that it won’t be that bad.”

You frown, “As my friend? Then… what about–”

You don’t miss the 180 change from his previous expression, the soft in his comforting smile replaced with a sneer that is all malign in a blink of an eye.

Panic starts to form a thick film in your throat.

Lowering his voice by two tones, he snarls, “As your Editor-In-Chief, I only have three words for you: suck it up. The journalism world is a dog-eat-dog world. You don’t and can’t choose your beats. What you can do is to go out there and come back with a story, or this newspaper is going to flop at your hands, along with your GPA.”

Such audacity.

You glare at him in disbelief, squinting your eyes at the sneer that’s still plastered on his face.

“As my friend,” you mimic, dragging each word, “Fuck you bitch.”

Sighing out loud with absolute disregard, you clench your fists to tamper down the vexation that threatens to escape your throat, “But for the sake of my GPA and this publication that is my precious baby, I’ll take this up. Very unwillingly though, I must add. But if he refuses to cooperate, he can suck my ass.”

“You have my seal of approval if you meant that literally.”

“Fuck off—”

“Anyways, you won’t need to worry about Tae. I contacted him just now – he’ll be expecting you at practice on Monday.”

You roll your eyes, “Tae? I can never understand how you two are close.”

He inches closer to taunt you further, “May I remind you that Tae and I literally grew up together in Daegu, so he’s like my little bro. Anyways, he also told me to tell you that he cannot wait to see you.”

Nose scrunched up in disgust, you groan out loud at the duality before you, before flipping your friend off and burying your head in your palms.

But as much as you hate to admit it, Yoongi’s right. You have to suck it up.

If doing this profile is the only way to save your GPA and the publication, to hell with your pride and Kim Taehyung. You’re going to do this story well and you’re going to make sure that nothing, absolutely nothing – including Kim Taehyung and his fuckboy antics – is going to fuck that up.

Not in this economy.

Building up to Monday aka the Big Day as what Yoongi calls it, while you refer to it as the Day You Die), Yoongi has left you very specific instructions for the profile feature, expecting you to find some easy way out of this. He normally leaves you on your own, knowing that you’d always return with a solid piece that he won’t be able to find anything to nit-pick on. But for this task, he has ordered you to follow the boy around for a whole damn week and expects you to submit your voice recordings for accurate transcription.

Right from the get-go, you can already deem this profile to be the most stressful and frustrating piece in your entire journalism career. In other words, it’s a sham. A popularity stunt. A hoax. An opportunity to give Kim Taehyung even more clout and undeserving commendation than what the resident fuckboy deserves.

The day you finish your story will the best day of your life because you won’t ever need to interact with the said boy ever again.

To say that you hate him would be an understatement – sure, hate is a strong emotion, yadda yadda yadda, but the cacophony of arrogance and smugness that radiates off him makes your face scrunch up in disdain whenever he’s around. Though you would never allow him to have such power over you, he has tormented you countless of times with his shameless flirting whenever he has the chance to, and by simply existing and being his annoying, putrid self. You really don’t know why Taehyung has taken a liking to teasing you and pushing your buttons, ever since Yoongi introduced the two of you two years ago.

The sun is dripping down on the soccer field with delicacy, casting its golden light on the grass patch when Coach blows the whistle from the sidelines. Right in the heart of the field, Number 6 springs into action on the field, shouting commands at his teammates who listen to him intently.

Indeed, there are many other guys running all over the field, decked in the same jersey, but you could instantly recognise the outline of Taehyung’s ass, your eyes fixated on how the fabric of his shorts hugs his lower half like a second skin. Much to your dismay, one of your thirsty friends had hooked up with Taehyung last Christmas and didn’t allow you to forget the details of his bomb dick game and the thickness of his ass, so it’s fair to say that you have a good gauge of how his ass looks like. Not that you take pride in that knowledge though.

A smug smirk plays on his lips when he scores another goal as he instinctively pumps his fist to the air. You observe how he proceeds to run around the field, high-fiving and patting his teammates to spur them on.

Being the captain of the precious varsity football team, Kim Taehyung naturally carries an aura of confidence, which easily moulds into palpable cockiness. He’s infuriatingly talented and thus, his big ego sadly, and he also doesn’t have much of a filter and says anything that comes to mind. You’ve come to a conclusion that his language is an unfortunate concatenation of sexual jokes, sarcastic taunts and indolent mischief.

As if having sensed your gaze, he cranes his neck in the midst of practice and shoots you a seemingly innocent grin when he spots you standing awkwardly at the sidelines, hugging your notebook like they’re a piece of armour shield. But you know that there is more to his smile than just innocence. Still maintaining eye contact with you, he grabs the hem of his shirt to dry the sweat on his forehead and smirks in satisfaction when your face drops disgruntledly.

After calling for a five, he jogs up to you, his smile unwavering. Behind him, his teammates have all huddled together, pretending to drink up and talk amongst each other, but their eyes are all glued on the interaction between you and their captain.

“My my, look who we have here. Isn’t it my favourite girl cheering me on during practice?”

Taehyung’s awful voice pierces your eardrums, thick with honey and mixed with some other cloyingly sweet substances.

Your annoyance reaches its peak level as your eyes narrow to slits when he stops right in front of you.

You could leave right this instance. In fact, you very much want to, but your conscience is holding you back. While you’ve contemplated smoking your way for the profile one too many times, you know that Yoongi, being the smart shit he is, would be able to see through it (and also, Taehyung might just snitch on you) and the mere thought of a disappointed Yoongi just bites you.

“Look,” you spit, facing him properly for the first time, “I’m here against my own will because I have a story to write and that’s the only reason why I am even here. So I would very much appreciate it if you could quit acting like a jerk and let me do my job so I can leave ASAP.”

You’ve never been this up-close with Taehyung before, not when all you ever focus on around him is putting on your bitchiest expression, coming up with spiteful retorts, or pretending that you didn’t see him in the hallway which is actually impossible because he comes for you like a plague.

“Sssh, did you hear that?”

“Huh—”

“That’s the sound of you begging for my help.”

A taunting smirk inches its way onto the edges of Taehyung’s lips and you want to sock him in the face and wipe it off his lips. Your glare seems to only spur it to grow wider, as if somehow your clear distaste for him is amusing to him.

“Going to fake a quote for me again?” He continues, the shit-eating grin never leaving his face.

“If you continue pissing me off, I just might.”

For your previous article which involved having to interact with Taehyung, he had refused to answer your questions properly, spouting nonsense and idiotic pickup lines that served of no value to your article. You just needed a one-liner from the egotistical football captain, but all he did was obliterate your gossamer thin patience and last few braincells. Given his insistent reluctance to cooperate, you eventually made up a quote for him – something along the lines of “I don’t really think much about life – I just YOLO it because you know, YOLO” – and made sure that it reflected him badly.

The quote eventually became the unofficial quote of the year and it gives you so much satisfaction, knowing that it made a small dent on Taehyung’s reputation. On bad days, you’d think of the fake quote and laugh to yourself. Needless to say, he was enraged and even sent complaint emails to Yoongi for false reporting. Journalism ethics? You don’t know her.

“Oh yes, where were we?” He draws out each word with a smooth tone, unfazed, “We were talking about how I hold your fate in the palm of my hands, Princess.”

You hate that nickname he has for you. You don’t even remember when and how it started or what led to the nickname. Grunting out loud in abhorrence, you stop to contemplate kicking him in the shin and running away, but you lack the courage to carry out the former because if you’re to ever hurt the precious varsity captain, you can jolly well bid farewell to your collegiate life.

But before you can even take a step away, he stops you by blocking your passage with an even wider smirk. If he is fucking ecstatic at your rage, he’s determined on making sure that you’re well aware of it. 

“Seriously, if you don’t want to do this, let me know right now so we don’t waste each other’s time.”

“Oh Y/N,” he calls out dramatically and you cringe at how your name rolls off his tongue, “I did promise Yoongi-hyung about that profile, but I didn’t promise him that I won’t make your life a living hell.”

If it’s possible for your eyeballs to roll out of the socket, you’re pretty sure it would have already happened by now because Kim Taehyung is impossible.

“Okay,” you exhale, gathering your thoughts, “Then I will, for the better of mankind, start this civilly. But let me just say that I’ll take the mantle of being the bigger person here, which isn’t hard because you’re technically not a person.”

“Of course, I’m more than just a person,” he laughs and a devilish smirk, way too familiar against your own will, tugs at his lips, “I’m Kim Taehyung.”

“Did I ask? Can we just get this over and done with so that I can stop being around your despicable presence, stat.”

“Now, that’s not the way to treat your interviewee. Also, Yoongi said you’ll be following me around for a week. You’ll be around my ‘despicable presence’,” he holds up his fingers in the air to quote, “For an entire week. You think up for it, babe?”

He waggles his eyebrows with a mischievous glint blazing in his eyes, enjoying the scowl on your face.

“Fuck off, Kim.”

His eyes light up when he realises that he’s hit a nerve.

“Every breath you draw in my presence annoys the heck of me,” you edge, words slowing down to a pace that’s normally used on children.  

His large, almond eyes continue to regard you with keen interest.

“That’s funny. I thought that after all this while, you would be used to me scoring right into your goal.”

“Get your head out your ass.”

“Oh, I’ll have you know that I have a bomb ass. 10 out of 10 would tap.”

He laughs with an amused grin on his face, the same one he always has whenever he riles you up, finding entertainment in your fury. You hate his laughter. He’s always laughing, his smile huge and genuine and his out of this world personality knocking girls off-kilter. You hate it. Everything about it.

“What the fuck,” you spit scathingly, mouth agape in utter disbelief at the boy in front of you, or Satan himself wearing the flesh of a human.

You end up only asking two questions from your entire list of 15 questions, but it’s as though you’re stuck at square one because his answers are either half-assed or pure nonsense, and boy are you pissed.

“Hey, you’re alive.”

You look up from your misery and see the very cause of the said misery, standing at the door with an eyebrow raised. You don’t miss the extra sarcastic bite to his voice and the irritating smirk on his face, but you’d like to believe that he’s actually impressed by your unyielding resilience.

“Highly arguable. Mentally, no, but physically, yes I am. Not for long though,” you grunt, tone imbued in sarcasm because you are seriously done with this profile feature and you can’t wait for this torture to end.

Lifting your tumbler, you suck on the dregs of your coffee and groan louder at how it’s no longer hot. Lukewarm coffee is like torture to the tongue, much more than burning your tongue. You’re one of the annoying customers who would request for extra hot coffee, because you simply can, and you’re used to them faking a smile and then rolling their eyes when they’ve turned on their backs.

“I take it that something happened?”

“Oh nothing,” you shoot him a sarcastic grin, “Except for the fact that the bastard just toyed with me and wasted my Monday evening. If this is how it’s going to be, I say that we stop immediately.”

“Oh come on, it’s just the first day! I get that Tae can be playful and says a lot of stupid things, but he’s actually a really nice dude.”

“I just don’t like him,” you mumble and your voice trails off upon realising that you sound like a bratty preschool kid who can’t get along with the others.

Yoongi scoffs at your remark to correct you, “You don’t like anybody.”

“As if you’re not the most misanthropic person I know.”

“Wow, this ain’t about me,” Yoongi throws his hands up in the air in faux-defeat, “This is about you and Taehyung. Can you at least tell me why you hate his guts?”

The empty remark that brews on the tip of your tongue dies instantly and all you can lamely mutter is, “Over my dead body.”

“Seriously? Why?”

“Because I’m embarrassed.”

“Wait, what? Did you embarrass yourself in front of him?” Yoongi urges with a confused frown, but your lips are still sealed.

“Something like that.”

“Would you be so kind as to elaborate on that?”

“Nope, continue suffering.”

He rolls his eyes in disbelief, before flipping you the bird.

The next two mornings, you find yourself dragging yourself across the campus and past the newsroom, just to show up at the football field. Upon your arrival, the entire team ditches their warmup session and falls into a collective silence, openly gawking at you and your every movement. The sudden change in the atmosphere elicits an uncomfortable shiver to crawl up your spine. Looks like your social anxiety is about to have a field day.

“Captain, you have a visitor!”

One of the boys hollers with a playful glint in his voice, breaking the silence. At that, some teammates instantly gather in their own circles to whisper to one another, while some discuss your presence without bothering to be discrete. Is this… a jock version of Mean Girls?

“Tae! Your girl is here again!” Another dude shouts and you turn around to shoot a glare at the owner of the voice, eyebrows furrowed.

“Call me his girl one more time and I’ll make sure your legs won’t make it to finals.”

“Damn, a feisty babe. Noice.”

Another guy comes up to you – Jungkook, you recognise him because he’s in one of your classes. His build towers over you, while he flashes you a small, shy smile and you can’t deny that he is pretty cute with his dimples and doe eyes, which makes him look like a little bunny, but all hope is irrevocably lost when he opens his mouth.

“Hey, I think I lost my number. Can I get yours?”

“Seriously?”

The earlier guy who calls you feisty butts in, “If Taehyung isn’t fucking you right, call me yeah? I’ll make you feel real goo—”

“Minjae, leave her alone.”

You hear a displeased grunt from behind you and turn around to an annoyed Taehyung. His grip on the football in his hand tightens, before he shoves it roughly at Minjae, throwing his teammate off completely.

“Guys, please leave Y/N alone. She’s here to interview me, so I’d appreciate it if you could keep it in your pants and have some decency or respect for yourself.”

The boys instantly mutter a sorry, the peculiar sharp undercurrent of their captain’s voice has them heaving themselves upright in alarm.

You turn your head slightly to look at Taehyung, who’s wearing a vexed frown on his face – well that’s a first for someone who is joking around and laughing. Seeing his strong side profile irks the fuck out of you because someone this attractive shouldn’t be such a big nuisance. What an unfortunate waste. Of course, you would rather be impaled than admit this.

“If you don’t go back to warmups, you’re getting another 5 more laps around the field!” He raises his voice to the entire team and they scramble back to their warmup positions like ants.

After making sure that the team is back on the grind, he spares you another look and leads you to an empty bench away from the warmup area.

“Pretty sure you could have handled it yourself, but you looked uncomfortable,” he smiles apologetically, resting his hand on the back of his neck.

“Well, if you didn’t make me wait, I wouldn’t have needed to go through that.”

“I was helping this freshman who needed extra help with his dribbling. It’s a one-on-one thing so we were in the clubroom.”

“Whatever, it’s cool.”

“Anyways… I got an earful from Yoongi-hyung this morning. He said that I was being too annoying yesterday, so yeah, sorry about that…” His voice trails off and for once, the smile playing on his lips is sheepish, instead of a cocky one.  

“Huh?”  

“I said I’m sorry. And also for my teammates’ behaviour. Don’t know why they act like this every time they see a girl on the field.”

“D-Did you just apologise to me? Is everything okay, like you know, with your brain?”

“What?” He scoffs, but the smile on his face still remains, “I’m not an asshole. I will apologise if I crossed the line.”

“Kim, not to burst your bubble, but you’ve crossed the line with your annoying and rude ass self since the beginning of time.”

And there it is again. That little grin tugging softly at his lips as his eyes lock themselves on yours.

“Not going to lie, that’s part of my charm.”

You hastily ignore the stirrings of intrigue in your chest, deciding to stop with the chit-chat, “Yeah sure. Let’s just start with the interview. I’ve got a class in an hour.”

He extends an arm to gesture you to sit down on the bench, while he settles down beside you and leans back in an elegant slouch, one ankle crossed over a knee.

“So, let’s talk about the freshmen players this year. Anyone potential successors yet? Do you have a lot of one-on-one trainings?”

“Wow, we playing 20 questions now?”

“Kim,” you sigh loudly with every intention of making sure that he knows how done you are, “I’m literally here to interview you. If I don’t ask questions, then what’s the point.”

“I was just kidding!” He throws his head back with a chuckle, “All right, shoot me with your best shot.”

“Okay,” you clear your throat, “You’re called the dark horse of the school. How do you feel about that?

“Do you like horses?”

“What?”

“Bet you’ll like mine.”

You cup your face in your palm, as your heaving suspire lowers into an interminable groan, “Kim Taehyung. Before I—”

“Hmmm, so a dark horse…” he begins slowly, “I think it’s a respectable and fulfilling title. It’s when you amaze them with how unexpectedly good you are. It’s about really proving your competence to everyone who didn’t think highly of you before, so I’ll take it with pride and satisfaction.”

You nod your head as he speaks and when he finishes his sentence, you ask with a raised eyebrow, “Practiced that much?”

“Every day before I go to bed.”

“Clearly.”

“Well, I can show you first-hand.”

“You fucking wish.”

Thankfully, Taehyung gradually stops playing around and actually starts answering your questions properly without giving bullshit answers or making suggestive remarks.

At your last question about his legacy in school, he even elaborates without any prompters and you gratefully take everything down, nodding once in a while when he brings up a good point.

“Wow, you’re writing all these down while I’m talking? Can I see?”

You casually hand him your notebook and he gapes dramatically at the notes you’ve taken.

“These are just scribbles, but they’ll help with transcribing later on.”

“Wow I have to say, I’m impressed and also a little turned on right now.”

Rolling your eyes for the nth time in disbelief, you grunt, “Kim, you do know that you’re still being recorded, right?”

“Of course,” he smirks, raising instant flags for mischief etched across his lips, “Here’s a little note for Y/N who will listen to this when she gets home – I think she’s hot as fuck.”

“You’re shameless.”

Laughter bellows from his lungs, “That I am. I’m not going to deny it.”

Afterwards, he offers to take you for a tour around the clubroom, showing you the medals and trophies that the team has snagged over the years. As he elaborates on the trajectory of the varsity team, the noisy chatter of other students outside fades into background noise like timing in your ears.

He shows you a picture of the team taken from two years ago and your eyes nearly pop out at how small and out of place freshman Taehyung looks. He’s grinning widely at the camera, surrounded by his poker-faced burly seniors, painfully sticking out like a sore tongue, even more so with his scrawny build.

“You look way too happy in the picture that I actually have second-hand embarrassment,” you mutter, but Taehyung manages to catch it.  

“Hey! I was an excited freshie and they didn’t tell me it was a formal picture.”

When you leave the clubroom that day, you take along with you new knowledge about Kim Taehyung. Firstly, you learn that he has only been playing football for two years, which comes off as a shock and almost a form of embarrassment when compared to the other guys with at least a decade of football experience, thus deserving the title of a dark horse. He’s always been more of an arts dude, but he got sucked into the sport when he and his best friend from high school Jimin walked past the football tryouts during orientation.

Secondly, either his cologne or shampoo has a fruity undertone and this is derived from the fact that he is suddenly standing so close to you that you can feel the warmth of his breath and see each glimmer of darkness that surfaces in his orbs, alongside the humming warmth radiating off of his body.

A chill runs down your spine and your heart starts slamming against your chest out of nowhere at the proximity. You’re not used to being so physically close to him and you try not to think about how his alluring scent has you biting the inside of your cheek.

Taehyung seems to know his effect on you because his lips start to spread into a wolfish grin, inching closer to you.

“Your fuckboy antics won’t work on me, Kim.”

Your voice doesn’t come off as strong as you wanted it to, but you hope that he doesn’t catch on.

“You sure about that, princess?” His breath fans out across your cheeks when he speaks, causing instant warmth to scatter over your skin in the rise of gooseflesh.

Irritation bubbles like a brook throughout your entire body.

It’s taking every single willpower of yours not to headbutt him in the face. You desperately want to, but because you’re obviously the bigger person here and you need to prevent yourself from being expelled from school, you could only jab your finger harshly at his chest.

“Try it on another chick, yeah?”

He uncoils from his slouch and rises to his full height, exuding a smug superiority.

“What if you’re the only one I want to try it on?” He teases, his voice echoing with timber, rich and velvet.

You shoot him a leer, accompanied with the imaginary daggers to his face, trying to ignore the steadfast flutter in your belly. By the anger that undulates from your pinched features, he knows he’s left you tongue-tied, and this only spurs his grin to widen, your clear distaste for him a pure entertainment and amusement to him.

“I hate you.”

You grit, but your voice comes out as a mere squeak. You feel like burying yourself from the weight of his longing gaze. Clearing your throat, you push the strange flutter that’s settling in your belly as you hoist your bag over your shoulder and speed-walk away from him, missing the way he smiles at your departing silhouette.

The shift in Taehyung’s demeanour on the field is beyond commendable, almost palpable to everyone who has their eyes on him. When he’s on the field, there is no fooling around, only the giving of his one hundred and one percent to the game.

Moving agilely with astounding precision, you observe how his sun-kissed skin shimmers with a thin sheen of sweat on his neck, while his eyes sparkle with intensity.

All right. There is some truth that Taehyung looks kind of cool (do people still use that word to describe someone?) and charismatic like this, all serious and immersed in the game. You just wonder if he could be the same when answering your questions.

His brown mop of tousled locks is damp, parted haphazardly, while his jersey clings onto his frame, drenched with perspiration. His biceps strain against the fabric and the veins on his exposed forearms are given prominence when he grabs onto the ball with his fingers effortlessly. Taehyung’s not the buffest, but he is lean with just a nice amount of toned muscles.

When your eyes trail further south for an infinitesimal moment, his tight football pants accentuating the swell of his thighs and the curve of his ass on full display come into view.

Fuck. Your eyes divert back up to his face when you realise what you’ve been gawking at. As the sun hikes up in the sky, it casts a pretty golden glow on his profile, highlighting his sun-kissed skin. You push away the sensation of a small bud blooming in your chest when you meet his gaze, especially when he shoots you his signature boyish smile, a foil to your frown.

Well, looks like someone is happy to see you.

A disconcerting feeling starts to stir in the pit of your stomach when Taehyung approaches you without wiping that smile off his face.

“Good job for surviving two and a half days with me. You ready for today?”

“Replying yes or no literally won’t make a difference at all.”

Shrugging, you lift your tumbler to sip on your coffee before pulling a face.

“Fuck,” you curse quietly under your breath, unexpecting Taehyung to catch it but he does.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing… My coffee isn’t hot anymore.”

“Oh—”

“I bought this tumbler not long ago and it’s supposed to be good at trapping heat, but it just sucks and it was kind of expensive? I’m so angry I need to get another one—”

You stop your rant abruptly when you realise that Taehyung’s been staring at you quietly. He even urges you to continue with a nod of his head.

“Sorry, I’m oversharing.”

It’s not your fault that you tend to get too passionate when talking about your distaste for lukewarm coffee. For something that’s your bloodline, it has to be the right temperature, or else.

“Is that your pet peeve?”

You nod, “You can’t judge me though, or I’ll punch you.”

“It’s cool. If your greatest nemesis is lukewarm coffee—”

“Wrong. My greatest nemesis is the boy who’s currently talking to me right now.”

“As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted,” he rolls his eyes in faux-annoyance, “I absolutely detest coffee, big ass pills that I can’t swallow, and bread crusts.”

“Wait,” you stare at him pointedly in a cursory silence. “You don’t like coffee?”

“Nah, never liked the bitter taste.”

“Okay…” You drag your word out, “But you can just add sugar? Not that I do, I like it bitter. But please elaborate on the big ass pills and bread crusts. For a big boy like you, I have to say that this is pretty amusing.”

Laughter rises in Taehyung’s lungs at the pure confusion on your face, “I can’t swallow pills. Used to always puke them out. I usually crush them and yes, I know it tastes even worse but really, how else can I take my medicine? And bread crusts? Incardinate of evil. I’m really picky when it comes to bread.”

You can’t help but laugh at his dramatic expression. You don’t think you’ve ever had a proper chat with Taehyung that didn’t include insults, remarks, or retorts of any kind.

“You’re one weird boy, Kim.”

The conversation carries on smoothly, tucking itself into every available space, and you’ve got to admit that not only is Taehyung not bad at holding a conversation, he’s also a decent listener and listens quietly when necessary. This really piques your curiosity – maybe Yoongi’s right about him, maybe there is indeed a decent side to him. You’re just not sure why Taehyung loves to push your buttons. It’s as if he wants you to give him the time of day.

From your periphery, you realise that Taehyung’s looking straight at you and you freeze at the weight of his piercing gaze, feeling hot all of a sudden. A stunned silence encompasses the space between you, sitting heavily in your lungs.

After mustering up some courage, you look up to meet his eyes to reciprocate his actions, but your gaze diverts to the ground when you realise that his eyes are piercing right into your soul, like they’re searching or yearning for something.

“Kim,” you clear your throat awkwardly, “What are you doing?”

“Looking at you,” he replies matter-of-factly, his intense gaze never leaving your face. You want to bury yourself alive when you feel a persistent heat simmering under your skin, tinging your cheeks a translucent pink.

“And may I know why?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The right corner of his lips curls up into a smirk. He’s raising a challenge.

“Spit it out.”

“Do I say the truth or?”

“Not that bold after all, huh?”

“Well,” he opens his mouth again with a devious little gleam in his eyes, “I was thinking about kissing you.”

You don’t miss how he is openly gawking at your lips and your eyes instinctively rest on his as well, which are somewhere between the colour of peaches and cherries. You’re not sure of what washes over you, but your mouth takes the better of you. And for the first time, your words aren’t clogged in your throat.

“Do it then.”

You look at him through your lashes, dark and coy, eyebrow raised, testing the very limits of Taehyung’s restraint.

The erratic beating of his heart is in sync with yours, but it increases within a second when you notice his gaze fall back on your lips from your eyes. Suddenly, this sparks your curiosity and all you can think about is how good Taehyung’s would feel on yours.

“W-What?”

“Do it, Taehyun—”

Before you could even mutter his name, his lips are suddenly smashed against yours.

Goosebumps rise on your skin in its wake when his tongue grazes along the flesh of your lower lip, and you, suddenly so enthralled by the boy in front of you, part your mouth to meet him halfway.

You don’t know how long it has been. With his lips pressed against yours, you lose track of time, watch it fly away in the form of the licks on your mouth. Taehyung slackens his jaw to deepen the kiss, cupping your face with his hands to bring you closer to him. His tongue brushes against the underside of yours and then he recedes slightly before tangling for dominance.

Your name leaves his swollen lips in a dulcet whisper, causing your heart to spike in your chest and your stomach to unravel and knot again. You press your palm over your chest to calm the injured patter of your heart against the depths of your stomach.

The way his eyelashes that are almost impossibly thick and dark flutter just a fraction with each breath, brushing slightly against your nose and you squirm at the intimacy of the moment.

When he finally parts away, you feel like you’ve been electrocuted. But your stomach drops again when a pretty blush blooms over Taehyung’s face, crossing the bridge of his nose and spreading over his cheekbones. His hands continue to rest on your shoulders, but his touch is so hot and tantalising that it makes you want to melt.

Taehyung has always called bullshit on all those romance novels that rave about how lips can taste as sweet as strawberries. But you taste like the strawberries from his grandparents’ farm – sweet and delectable.

When he licks his lips again, he shudders when his senses register the honey musk of you and the ghost of your afternoon coffee. He hates bitter coffee with a passion, but you taste so fucking sweet. Overly saccharine that he feels dizzy.

You don’t talk about the incident the previous night and you’re grateful that Taehyung doesn’t act any differently. It was most probably the adrenaline that took over you and also perhaps your curiosity because you’re a reporter and reporters are supposed to be nosey, curious and also dreaming about kissing the varsity soccer team’s captain. Yep, absolutely.  

Your pride be damned. While it kills you to admit it, it’s common knowledge to everyone in the fucking school that Taehyung is just really nice to look at, be it when he dons his jersey, a button up or his colourful printed clothes. There is no doubting his ravishing features – his sharp nose, big almond eyes, long eyelashes, perky lips and the little moles that adorn his face.

Unbeknownst to you, you cross paths with Taehyung in a day more often than you think you do. Too often for your own good. Most of the time, you can hear him before he comes into view. His boisterous laughter that highlights a lilting charm to his low voice fills your ears like a plague. It is as though he has intended to haunt you with his loud presence. And though you’ve already made up your mind to avoid him unless it’s necessary to spare him a glance, it’s quite impossible. After all, you have one job – and that is to follow Taehyung for a week.

“Hey Princess!”

You could almost hear the sneer hidden in his coo and envision it with perfect clarity, that infuriating spark in his eye whenever he manages to rile you up. You don’t turn around, your feet bringing you further away from him, but eventually come to a halt when he jogs up to you, blocking your way of passage.

“Princess!”

“I heard you the first time.”

“And you still ignored me? I’m hurt.”

“What do you want?” You grunt loudly, having absolutely no qualms about showing your displeasure.

He slings his football bag over his right shoulder and smiles, “You know, you shouldn’t be mean to a person who just bought you coffee.”

“Wha—”

With a goofy smile pulling at his lips, he pushes a tumbler towards you that was initially hidden behind his back.

“You said you don’t like lukewarm coffee and a styrofoam cup wouldn’t keep it warm by the time I pass it to you, so I got you a tumbler… Besides, you said yours wasn’t good so I figured that I’ll just get you a new one.”

Warmth violently flares in the full of your cheeks, tipping your ears pink at his words. You try not to let the fact that he remembers get to you, but he fucking remembers.

You are a college student to the bone. Turning your back on coffee would be a sin. But coffee from Taehyung? In a tumbler that he purposely bought because he fucking remembers what you said?

“How—”

He beams, simpering at your speechless self. He thinks your shocked expression is adorable, doing nothing for the wildfire claiming the land of his chest.

“Did you, like, stalk me or something?”

“Pfft. Maybe?” He runs a hand through his hair with a lopsided smile, eyes filled with mirth.

“You’re so weird.”

Despite being surrounded by the steaming, teeming mass of students in the crowded hallway, the moment you two share is as private and as comforting as sitting on the sideline bench alone.

“Enjoy your coffee! This tumbler has very good reviews, I checked! So your coffee should be still hot. If not, text me and I’ll give them a bad review.”

“W-What? Tae—”

Before you could call out for him, he has already scrambled away and blended in with the crowd. You deadpan mentally when you realise that the entire hallway is gawking at you and the tumbler around your hand. But what’s more alarming is the strange tightness in your chest and the warm, tingling feeling coursing through your fingertips that you can’t get rid of.

You start learning random things about Taehyung beyond just football and general facts that everyone knows about him. It’s surreal how drastically your relationship with Taehyung has changed over the past few days. While snarky ripostes and greasy comments (from Taehyung, of course) are still exchanged, talking and listening to each other, or just being with each other, feels almost natural to you. But you’re no longer at each other’s throats and his annoying retorts have significantly decreased.

The daily meetings bring the two of you into line: by tacit and unconscious consent, you two have begun to weave a space for each other in your lives, forming a joint narrative like a breeze in the boughs, hanging in the spaces in between the two of you.

He was telling you about how he likes comparing his cheeks to bread buns, and he likes to stuff his cheeks when he eats, and that his grandparents would get upset if he returns to his hometown with sunken cheeks. You don’t realise that you’ve been grinning this entire time listening to him ramble on about his cheeks, but your smile grows even wider at Taehyung’s lock screen when his phone lights up from a notification.

“Oh my god, is that a dog?”

“Yes!” He exclaims, a little too loudly and shoves his phone in your face, “Say hi to Yeontan! Isn’t he just adorable?”

Your heart jumps at his excited smile and the tinges of pure adoration dancing in his orbs.

“Aww, he looks like a little ball of fluff.”

“He is! But he can also be very grumpy. Like you.”

“Did you just compare me to a dog?” You fold your arms fold over your chest in faux-rage.

“Such audacity!” He raises his palm to his chest with a gasp, feigning indignation. “He’s not just a dog. He’s the best thing that has ever happened to me ever since I saw him at the shelter.”

“Shelter?”

“Oh, I volunteer at a shelter for abandoned and stray pets every month. You know, Yeontan was actually abandoned by his previous owner and I don’t know, I just had to take him in? I would take all the animals at the shelter if I could, to be honest. Maybe next time. Anyways, let me show you more pictures! I have an album full of his pictures.”

“Dude…”

“Don’t be like that. I already have a Yeontan who gets super unenthusiastic whenever I show him pictures of other dogs. I think he’s jealous.”

A small smile tugs at your lips and the edges of his lips start to curl up to a semblance of a smile as well.

“Well, Yeontannie sure is one lucky dog.”

“More like I am one lucky boy,” he beams, flashing his honey bread cheeks in all their glory.  

There’s no denying the sweet quiet of Taehyung’s presence when he’s not making stupid remarks, and this is expounded by how time seems to forget about its own existence these few days. Before you know it, it’s already dark and you’re soon packing up to head back home.

“I’ll need you to go through some fact-checking with you tomorrow. You free around 6pm?”

“Shit, I think I have something on,” Taehyung pouts, fishing out his phone from his pocket, “Let me check.”

“Oh, then it’s fine—”

“Do you want me to cancel it?”

“No! No, it’s fine!”

“It’s okay, I can just postpone it—”

“That’ll mean that you’re cancelling for me.... and you know, you don’t have to.”

“It’s just dinner with Jimin. Fact-checking is important for your article, right?” He says quietly, while his eyes come slowly round and rivet themselves upon your face.

You don’t miss the twinkle in his eyes, igniting a blaze deep in your bones and washing your senses away. All of a sudden, your throat feels constricted, breaths coming out short. You’re hyperaware of how close he is and to be honest, you feel like you’re standing in a room that’s on fire, too hot for the chilly evening which has a very high chance of rain.  

Even if you continue to insist that you despise him, you can’t help but admit that somewhere deep down, something between the two of you is now different. 

Exhaustion creeps up onto Taehyung, the pain in his arms manifested in his back as well, gradually sneaking into his legs until all his limbs are aching and stiff. Hunched over on a bench, he grits his teeth in frustration, nails digging the skin of his palms, while hot tears threaten to spill.

On Friday, you’ve walked into the team huddled in a circle, frowns all over their faces, a congealing tension evident in the air. From the clamour, it seems that one of the boys have gotten injured during practice and the team was split into two on who to be held responsible and whether there was any foul play involved.

From the sidelines, you watch Taehyung order everyone to shush and makes everyone sit down for a deconflict session. He appears surprisingly calm and addresses the issue in a collected manner. Afterwards, he invites the team to share about how they feel, allowing the conflict to openly spoken about and viewed from different perspectives. He listens attentively, like he always does with you, and speaks clearly and practically, easing the tension in the air till their teammates start coming to a consensus.  

When he sees you standing at the sidelines, he gives you a small smile that you easily see through and approaches you after making sure that his teammates are cool with one another and reminds them that whatever happens on the field stays in the field.

“So um,” you begin quietly, treading carefully around his feelings, “Are fights like that common?”

You already know the answer from looking at the size of the dark bags under his eyes. He is slowly breaking down, but still holding tightly onto the carefree façade that he puts on for show, for the team. It’s also mid-terms period and from the earlier interviews, you remember that he is on a scholarship that he cannot afford to lose because his parents are struggling to send his other siblings to school as well.

Contrary to popular belief, Taehyung isn’t an open book. He’s more of a sealed book, covered in dust and trapped in a forgotten corner of a bookstore. He has his own elusive way of dealing with ways, befriending people, treasuring the people and things around him, but he has also his own way of hiding his feelings. He hates the idea of being vulnerable with people.

He is a combination of hot and cold – sometimes you feel like he’s an old friend because of the emotional compatibility and his comfortable presence, but sometimes, he just goes back to being the cocky fuckboy he is. Maybe that’s just part of the jock persona – to deceive people into thinking that he’s more than that. But in all honesty, that’s not Taehyung and you wouldn’t compartmentalise him like that or homogenise him as just another fuckboy no matter how much you dislike him.

You think you’d know him quite well from having shadowed him the past week. It has come to your realisation that you’re no longer at each other’s throats and his annoying retorts have significantly decreased, but you’re not sure whether it’s because he’s just tired from everything to go out of his way to be annoying. But you don’t have any complaints.  

He lets out a dry chuckle at your question, his words sounding sugar crystalised and rough in his throat, “Are you asking this as a friend or as a reporter?”

“We’re friends?”

“We–”

Some threads of a biting remark begin to sew themselves together in his mind, but he stops instantly, too tired to really fabricate anything, much less bother to speak.

“Taehyung,” you call out after drawing a furtive breath, “Don’t doubt yourself. You’re a great friend and captain.”

Your soft and sincere tone permeates through Taehyung’s every last prickle of frustration, especially when you offer him a reassuring smile, “What you did out there was one of the selfless acts I’ve ever seen in a leader. And this should mean something, you know, considering that it’s coming from me.”

“Of course I am, I’m actually nicer than I look.”

“I know you’re kidding, but I’m trying to be serious here and on the off chance you’re not, fuck off.”

He remains quiet.  

“I’m serious though. It’s obviously not easy being the captain, but it’s clear that you have rightfully earned the respect from all your teammates. You handled it quite well without being biased or losing your cool.”

“I did?” His tone, deep in timbre, is so quietly surprised that it gnaws at your heart.

“Yeah.”

“Conflicts like that are a daily occurrence,” he mumbles, “But they can really break or make our teamwork and… the momentum for me as their captain, so I have to try? I have to be responsible for my guys.”

You watch how a cocky smirk instantly settles itself on his lips right after you think that he has opened up, “But I might be just great at forming relationships and team-bonding.”

“Judging from how you treat the girls around you, I don’t think that’s completely true.”

“Girls around me?”

“You’re a fuckboy. I don’t think it’s safe to say that your relationships with girls are great.”

“It’s just sex, no big deal.”

“And that gives you the right to play with their feelings?”

“Of course not, we just hook up that’s all. No hard feelings. It’s just sex with no strings attached and they all know it. Before I hook up with someone, I make it very clear that I’m not looking for anything serious. Just meaningless sex and fun.”

“Okay, but let’s say for example, a girl does end up falling for you. Is that solely her fault?”

He stops to think.

“For now, I just don’t wish to get involved in anything serious. I don’t have the time or the energy to deal with feelings.”

You scrunch your nose up in distaste when Taehyung shrugs his shoulders casually, dismissing the conversation.

You’re not someone who is easily lost for words, always quick to retort with a witty comeback, especially when it’s with Taehyung. But this time, all you could mutter is an “I see”, before pretending to focus on writing on your notepad. For some reason, you feel like your heart just took a dip. The thought of him playing around with girls leaves a bad taste in your mouth, but you can’t comprehend why. Since when did you care what Taehyung does with his life? You never did before.

Maybe it’s because at the back of your mind, you know that your said example might not exactly be one. Maybe.

Sunday arrives quicker than ever. In retrospect, you know this day would come – in fact, you’ve been waiting for this day ever since Yoongi assigned you the profile. But there’s just something – sort of a difference in the air surrounding you and Taehyung – that kneads at your heart about this coming to an end. Whatever this is.

He doesn’t say a word when you take a sip from the tumbler that he gave you, but you’re pretty sure that the way his eyes instantly lit up with a smile to match says it all.

“Oh right! Have you eaten breakfast? I, um,” he coughs awkwardly, hand scratching the back of his hand with a nervous smile, “made some sandwiches this morning.”

He turns around to his sports bag and fishes out a lunchbox, “Strawberry cream sandwiches!”

“My grandparents own a strawberry farm, so I get all the best strawberries!” He beams, and his eyes turn into little sparkly crescents. At that, your heart skips in two, one half in your throat and the other down in your gut.

“Not to be biased, but these are the tastiest and sweetest strawberries ever. Oh! After Japanese strawberries, but don’t tell my grandparents. They’ll be sad.”

“Anyways, try it,” he hands you a sandwich and you take a moment to observe how it screams Kim Taehyung at his finest. He has trimmed the bread crusts (his nemesis) and added a shit ton of cream cheese.

Taehyung’s crescent-like eyes are now staring straight into you as he watches you bite into the sandwich, anticipating for your reaction. There’s something in his gaze that makes your limbs heavy. It makes you feel trapped and lost in the depths of his eyes, warm and inviting.

You smile at the sweet and sour taste and he literally jumps with joy, flashing his honeyed cheeks.

“It’s good, right?” He chirps, beckoning you to eat more and you ignore how Taehyung’s cheeks are fully stuffed and how he chews with a natural pout on his lips.

For a moment, the world seems to be out of space and time as you sit on the bench, savouring the sweetness of everything. Taehyung is looking at you and the moment is lengthening. He becomes severely tongue-tied, no longer knowing what to say, but yearns for this moment to stay the way it is.  

“Nice weather, huh?”

“Talking about the weather now?” You ask in a bemused tone and he puffs, rolling his eyes playfully, but the growing tingle of pink on his cheeks doesn’t escape your notice.

“I-I mean... It’s nice.”

A softness settles into the lines of Taehyung’s face, and you can’t bring yourself to look away when his eyes land on yours, “It’s nice being here with you.”

And he means it. He generally feels good around you. He isn’t an anxious or socially awkward person, and he’s got tons of friends, but he still finds himself putting on a mask with most of them. A slightly louder, a more playful and enthusiastic version of himself. He almost always becomes the life of the party, the person who makes things easier and more comfortable for everyone else – breaking the silence, making jokes, drawing people out of their shells and easing them into conversations. He likes being that kind of person.

But it does get tiring, sometimes.

He likes being quiet, sometimes.

Sometimes, he just likes to curl up on the couch in his PJs and not feel like he has to be Funny! Loud! And gregarious! All at once. On some days, he just wants to laze around and watch anime till his eyes bleed. On some days, he just wants to be a normal college student without a team to manage and reputation to uphold.

You roll your eyes at his sudden confession, hoping that the warmth that sits high on your cheeks isn’t that obvious, but it probably is, from the way your heart ensnares at how Taehyung’s lips are stretched so widely across his face, his crescent eyes crinkling so adorably that you find yourself smiling too.

“You’re a loser,” you tease, shoving him lightly.

Then Taehyung is laughing, highlighting the undertones of oak and berries. He is laughing so hard that his stomach hurts and his chest aches with a drumming sound against his ribcage. Soon, laughter pokes its way across your glassy eyes, with tinges of amusement waltzing in your orbs, and pink cheeks and you’re doubling over him, with tears in your eyes and nose all scrunched up. Taehyung is holding onto you and the moment is lovely, everything is lovely.

You’re lovely.

Taehyung raises his arm to ruffle your hair, stirring up a mini tornado within you and chuckles again when you jump slightly.

“Gotta say that I’d miss having you around. You and your pesky presence. Can’t believe a week just went by just like that.”

“Rude,” you half-heartedly taunt, pushing his hand away, while a corner of your mouth curls up in retaliation.

“It was fun being your side hoe though. Do you know how many glares I’ve received by strangers, literally girls I’ve never seen before in my entire life, in the hallway? Imagine the power I have.”

“What side hoe?” He chuckles boyishly and your breath hitches, “You’re as good as my main.”  

Your heart pulses erratically in your chest, cheeks flushed with a warmth that matches the one that blooms in your heart. The way he makes your heart soar terrifies the fuck out of you.

“Not sure if I should feel honoured.”

“You know, I actually don’t know how we ended up like this. You hated me for the longest time and now we’re sitting here.”

“I did hate you, all right.”

“You have such a personality.”

“That’s another way of calling me a bitch.”

“As in… vibrant, colourful, I don’t know how else to describe you. You’re rude and endearing at the same time – it’s weird.”

The most adorable of smiles form on his face as he lets out a wholehearted laugh, it makes your insides melt.

A grin moulds on your face that resembles his own, “And you’re still a huge pain in the ass.”

“Still a bomb ass that I’ll tap.”

Later in the day, you receive a text from Taehyung. It’s not the first time that he has texted you. But little did you know that he would be a freaking double texter.

[from annoying ass jock] [18:49] hey you [18:49] do you want to grab dinner [18:49] i am very hungry right now lol [18:49] i mean you’re probably hungry unless you’ve eaten? [18:49] take this as a goodbye dinner, celebratory dinner wtv [18:51] feel free to say no tho HAHAHAHA

[you] [18:53] stfu I wasn’t going to say no [18:53] clam down [18:54] i’m kinda craving for a good burger and cheese fries

The night passes by smoother and faster than expected. Maybe it’s because you don’t realise the possibility of it being a date. The way Taehyung has asked you for dinner seems rather impromptu, so you’ve completely eliminated the idea of it being a date.

On the other hand, Taehyung himself knows that this is a date. While you’re cutting into your burger, he is furiously chewing on his fries, struggling to believe that you had even taken up his absurd offer of eating dinner together. On a Friday evening. With him. Is it a sign of peace? Or even something more?

He offers to walk you back to your dorm after that, telling you that he needs to walk off his burger. When he walks side-by-side with you, you focus at how he is so tall, how his height literally hovers over you, doing nothing but darkening the pink high on your cheeks.

When he stops in his track abruptly, you have to tilt your head upwards to look at his face, and each passing streetlamp casts his already golden skin in an orange glow, throwing tiny suns in his eyes into orbit.

Tonight is a little different.

The way he’s looking at you is a little different.

He takes your palms into his and starts playing with your fingers, allowing the two of you to stew and bask in the quiet contentment of the night.

His other hand rests gingerly on your waist, before bringing you closer to him. Then you find his lips graze the shell of your ear and shudder at his warm breath on your skin, inviting the rise of gooseflesh to scatter all over your body.

Your mind goes blank. All you can only think about how his touch on your waist burns, how ticklish his breath is on your face, and how there are little awakening tingles that shoot up your spine every time his skin comes into contact with yours. How he’s so gentle with you as if you’re a delicate piece of art.

How much you want him to kiss you.

Honestly, it takes you by surprise how much you actually want him to do just that, how much you’ve unconsciously thought about this so often that you can already imagine the ghost of his fingers down the cleft of your chin.

A fizzle of electricity runs down your spine when he brings your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to each finger, before he brushes over your knuckles to intertwine his fingers with yours.

He’s looking at you with as much certainty as you know that he’s going to sweep in and kiss you. You offer him a smile, and it is all the reassurance Taehyung needs before he leans in to press his lips against yours. Something akin to fireworks explodes inside you, colouring your insides and nerves with rainbow sparks. It makes you feel so alive.

The gentle brush of skin becomes static charge. He takes his time with you and kisses you like he’s always had the intention of doing so, like this isn't a spur of the moment catastrophe. Like he wants more of you, needs a taste of what he’s been yearning for the longest time.

You are abstrusely drawn to Taehyung. Like planets condemned by gravity to collide, you two have become yoked as one. It’s the headiness of his scent, the taste of his lips, his tongue that carefully darts over your bottom lip and seeks entrance. It’s the way he’s kissing you, so different, so soft and gentle, like it’s grounded in something you can’t quite place, compared to the first kiss.

Taehyung’s lips are soft like the cup of his hands around your face, but it is the settling of the repeated brush of his mouth against yours that makes you almost melt into the ground.

Nipping lightly at your lower lip, his lips curl up into a smirk when he hears a gasp escape from your mouth, your heart ricocheting in your chest.  

It’s an amalgamation of teeth, hidden feelings and pure adoration that are coming to a head and finally bursting – absolutely everything you wanted and more. But even when your tongues tangle with one another, it is more sensual and romantic than hasty and lustful.

The night is upon you when he parts from you moments later, allowing you to catch the breaths that have escaped from your now swollen-red lips and come down from your highs. You’re staring at him with eyes laced with fondness, before he leans in to meet your forehead and chuckles to himself at how surreal everything is.

You shouldn’t be feeling so happy, so satisfied, but you feel like you’ve been moon-struck. God, you can’t even figure it out yourself. Not when you’re tucked into his broad sturdy chest, his chin resting on the crown of your head and hand resting gently around your waist. Listening to his heartbeat. Though you’re aware that he isn’t looking for anything serious, you want to believe that maybe, just maybe his heart is beating as thunderously as yours because he’s serious this time.

“Not about to feint surprise at how you’re still alive because I’m going to need that profile from you, but I have to ask. Did you not sleep last night?” You look up to see Yoongi raising his eyebrow at you with suspicion.

“Ah, the appearance of negation in a question – my cup of tea. Do I reply yes or no to your pervasive question?”

“Very snarky today, I see. You look like melted ice cream, topped with tasteless sprinkles.”

“And you look like a boiled dumpling.”

“Thanks.”

“I was up doing work last night.”

“You’ve already handed up all your submissions,” he replies matter-of-factly.

“I know… I just… was,” you shoot Yoongi a pointed look, “thinking about stuff.”

The change in his expression lets you in that he knows exactly about what’s up, “Thinking about stuff, huh?”

“I’m just so—”

“Whipped for Kim Taehyung and I want to tap that ass. South Korea’s ass, yeah?”

“Disoriented. The word I was going for was disoriented, thank you very much. But also, what the fuck?”

“I said what I said.”

“I also said what I said. Don’t be gross.”

“Look,” Yoongi clears his throat, as if to brace himself for his forthcoming words, “I don’t really want to be involved in whatever feud or relationship you have – look how I didn’t overgeneralise because I’m generally confused. But one thing’s for sure. You clearly have feelings for him.”

“Yeah, of course I do. Anger, impatience and animosity.”

“You know what I mean,” he sighs in incredulity and gives you a look like he can look through your soul and tell that you’re lying through your teeth.

“What the fuck, dude? Kim Taehyung is just urgh. There is nothing good about that jock – all he knows is fucking around and getting onto my nerves. Seriously—"

“Seriously? You expect me to believe that? Don’t think I didn’t notice you smiling at your laptop while working on that profile? Or how you’re glued to your phone because he’s texting you or sending you memes?”

“What?” You blurt out in disbelief.

“Don’t fight me on that – you hate texting. I’m not blind, Y/N. He obviously ignited something in you.”

“What the fuck,” you snarl, “That’s disgusting. I don’t even know what’s so interesting about him, like why the heck are people so smitten by him. They must be blind or something. I swear that I’ve lost at least 10 years of my life from spending an entire week with him. Don’t know how I’m still alive.”

“Y/N…”

“I don’t fucking understand why people put him on a pedestal. He’s really your typical jock? Another egotistical fuckboy. An airhead with no personality. I don’t understand why people like him so much—"

“Um… Taehyung…”

“What?” You flare up impatiently, acrimonious at how Yoongi keeps interrupting your hate speech, totally missing the grimace on his face.

“Y/N, Taehyung… He’s behind you.”

You spin around and your heart drowns in your chest.

The sight of Taehyung’s face of reticence at the door punches you straight in the gut. He shakes his head with a forlorn smile that you can easily see through and turns on his heels, walking away quickly.

Without hesitation, you run after him, your chest tightening with a disconsolate, stifling feeling, as if you’ve just swallowed a hard lump of cloud.

“Tae! I can explain–”

He turns around, maintaining his distance from you, “Gee Y/N, I didn’t know you hated me that much. I thought… thought that after spending all this time with me, your feelings might have changed. But you still… you still hate me, don’t you?”

“Taehyung, listen – I didn’t mean it. I j-just–”

His brows crinkled together in a tight wedge, eyes pressed shut.

“You meant it.”

“I–”

Your tongue feels heavy, like it’s made of iron.  

“You meant it,” he repeats, shoulders sunken low, crestfallen, and you swear, you see hurt in his eyes.

Your heart immediately falls with it, knowing that you’re the cause of his sadness. It feels like there’s a fist seizing your heart and squeezing it until it bursts and splatters all over the walls. When he walks away from you, the pain remains, unabated.

Only heaven and you yourself know how much you did not mean it.

When you wake up the next few mornings, it’s as if a shadow is lurking at the back of your mind.

There is a tirade running on loop in the back of your mind, the more you thought about it, the angrier you got. But anger is merely a convenient emotion that easily covered up for sorrow. You are angry at yourself for hurting Taehyung.

You’d never say it, but in between glances, hazy mornings at the field and the exchange of witty ripostes, your feelings for Taehyung have changed, unbeknownst to the world. You have no idea when it happened. When the lines that so clearly distinguished you from Taehyung became so blurred. When he stopped being irritating, an obstacle, an enemy and became something else entirely.

You don’t exactly know when you started to thaw and let your guard down to let him in, but you know that you… like seeing Taehyung smile. And you also know that you want to be one of the reasons for his smile.

Despite the overwhelming amount of work you need to attend to, these few days, you spend a lot less time working on your assignments like you should be and a lot more daydreaming about twinkling eyes and a distinctive laughter from a boxy smile. It doesn’t go past your notice – how your heart goes all erratic when a particular football player is around, his sunshine smile radiating the darkest part of your mind and threatening to break your steely, collected demeanour into bits.

You have been so scared to let him in, so afraid to let yourself fully submerge in the comfort of his touches, in the calm that envelops you when Taehyung is beside you, listening to you ramble, or when he looks at you when he thinks you’re not looking.

You tell yourself that you’d be fine. That life goes on. That Taehyung is just another almost and you can live without talking to him again like how your life was before this whole shit-show. But you remember the current that zaps you whenever he brushes his hand against yours, the ricocheting of your heart whenever you find him staring at you. You also think about the little crinkle at the edges of his eyes whenever he laughs and the music of his laughter that you’ve grown to adore. Little did you know, the warmth at the pit of your stomach has long built a house to reside in and it’s yearning for its owner to come home.  

It hurts.

It hurts because Taehyung has the prettiest, purest and brightest of all souls. He views the world in a different light with all his little quirks. You adore his ardent love for classical jazz (he accidentally played his music out loud when you were with him and gave you a whole lecture on and you didn’t stop him for he spoke so animatedly with stars in his eyes), for strawberries and his family that he would have been a farmer with his grandparents if he didn’t attend college.

Because when he loves, he loves so fiercely, softly and dearly, like the first snow, like the fresh dew on a perfectly bloomed rose. Soon, the gentle heat of the morning will send him back to the clouds and the bloom will raise her head, calling to the summer bees. Taehyung flows like honey in your soul and makes you feel so whole, but vulnerable at the same time.

He’s a dream come true, a daydream, a part of the labyrinth where reveries rest. He’s just so wonderfully and ethereally endearing.

The ache in your chest throbs especially when you spot a cute dog on the way to the café downtown and whip out your phone to snap a picture to tell Taehyung that it’s one of Yeontan’s little friends. You almost hit the send button, but your thumb freezes into place when you remember.

Right.

He’s never going to talk to you again.

It also hurts extra bad when you’re glued to your laptop, fingers hacking away to finish up the feature article on the said boy, writing about the true Kim Taehyung that currently, only you know of. But he probably hates your face right now.

“Hey, you’re—”

“Yoongi, no. I’m not alive. I’ve never felt more dead before.”

“I was going to commend you for being here today after you know, yesterday’s incident.”

He grabs a chair and sits by you and a dreadful sigh escapes from your lips because you’re well-aware that Yoongi is going to make you talk. He isn’t the type to let you ignore your feelings, preferring in honest and open communication even if it pains you to talk about your feelings because you’re so emotionally constipated.

“How are you?”

Burying your face in your hands, you somehow manage to choke out the words lodged deep in your throat, “Feel like shit. I thought I hit rock bottom. But now it’s rock bottom, 50 feet of crap and then me.”

If Yoongi notices the tremble of your fingers, he doesn’t comment on it and you’re grateful for that.

“Tell me more.”

It’s not a question.

God, you hate it when he presses. Fuck journalists and their persistence of sticking their noses into other people’s business. You want to laugh at how ironic this is.

“I don’t even know where to start,” you laugh dryly and cringe at how fake it sounds.

You have your usual self-defensive answer rolling off the tip of your tongue, “I am just another dumb bitch who fell for him.”

“You know, if you’re going to continue being like this, I don’t really know how to help you.”

“I’m not kidding. I feel so dumb for liking him. In fact, one part of me is fucking furious that I’m so vulnerable right now. I hate feelings.”

“First of all, you’re not dumb for liking him. And second of all, human beings are vulnerable and all feelings, no matter how small or insignificant or cliché they are, are all valid. That’s how we grow.”

He continues sagely, “Look, whatever happened between you two is a mess. So you hated him last time, but you’ve developed feelings for him, and that’s all that should matter, no? Don’t refuse your feelings just because you know, you’re too ashamed or scared to acknowledge them.”

Your mouth opens and then snaps close. You repeat this in your state of stupefaction as your brain tries to process everything that has occurred.

“Does it matter if I acknowledge my feelings?”

He doesn’t answer.

“He told me that he isn’t looking for anything serious. Just meaningless sex and fun. I literally just played myself.”

“I don’t exactly know what Taehyung feels about this. But what I know is that they have their first game in a few days and he hasn’t been doing well. Coach has been going really hard on him. You should go talk to him, yeah?”

“Yoongi,” you whisper helplessly, “I’m scared.”

“I know.”

He puts his hand atop yours as a form of comfort and suddenly, everything seems okay. Even if it is just in that moment.

Before you clock out of the editorial room, Yoongi sends you back with your article to vet through before giving the green light to the designers. Scrolling all the way to the bottom of the document, you realise that Yoongi hasn’t fixed anything at all to the point that you wonder if he has accidentally sent the wrong version. Until you spot his message at the bottom in really tiny font because you know, Yoongi.

I said that you’re the only person who could cover this feature article and I wasn’t wrong. Well done. Hope you know that I’ll always have your back, alive or dead.

You decide to drop by football practice the next day. Lurking near the bleachers, you jump in horror when Jungkook spots you being suspicious. From the way his eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights upon the sight of you, you know that he’s aware of the recent happenings.

“Hey,” he offers you a small smile, but you could tell from the size of the dark bags under his eyes that he is shagged to the bone.

“Hi.”

“Y/N, right? You okay?”

You let out an awkward chuckle, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because Cap is a mess?”

“Is he really?”

He laughs dryly, “Aren’t you here to confirm that?”

“Um—”

“Sorry, I just… the stress is getting to all of us. But especially to hyung. He’s being really grilled by Coach for the sudden dip in performance.”

“Right… I’m sorry… If I caused this. I just—”

Across the field, Coach’s whistle shrills through the air and you realise that it’s directed at Taehyung. From where you’re standing, his grunts are almost inaudible, but the sound of his voice still traverses the darkness of your mind.

“You know, this is the first thing hyung is being grilled by Coach. He’s always been Coach’s favourite, even right from the very start, so Coach doesn’t really know how to deal with him either. Hyung’s even worse than his freshman self. You know, hyung didn’t know shit about football when he first joined? It was a joke. He really worked his way up, even though all he wanted was just to play on the field.”

A sudden prick of guilt pinches at your chest.

“Hey Jungkook, could you do me a favour? Could you pass this to him? You can just leave it on top of his bag? I think he’ll know.”

When Taehyung hobbles into the locker room feeling like death after a vigorous grilling session, his legs almost collapse on the floor. But then he sees a lunch box atop his bag and runs towards it, huffing louder than usual, so hard that he feels like his lungs might collapse like his legs. And when he opens it, only to see a nicely packed strawberry sandwich with a little post-it note on top of it, he lets out a huge breath and for the first time in years after his grandmother’s passing, Taehyung cries.  

Don’t tell your grandparents (sorry!) but these are Japanese strawberries. Good luck for Sat, Yeontannie and I believe in your galaxy 💜

A big commotion startles Taehyung from his mandatory quiet time that he sets aside before each game. He’ll put on his headphones and play his jazz playlist to meditate for at least a good 10 minutes, allowing both his muscles and mind to rest. But even his noise-cancelling headphones can do so much in blocking out his rambunctious and adrenaline-filled teammates.

“Captain! Your girlfriend’s here!”

“Captain!”

“Tae!”

“Wha—”

Before Taehyung could even remove his headphones to bark at his teammates for disturbing his peace, the door that swings open reveals his very confusion, rendering him utterly speechless.

He sees you standing there with an apprehensive expression, looking out of place as fuck, and if it’s possible, Taehyung can hear the gears in your brain turning frantically from here.

When your eyes land on Taehyung sitting across the room, the first thought that pops into your mind is that it feels like eons since you’ve last seen his face. It’s only been a few days, but you miss seeing him. You miss him so fucking badly.

He looks tired. There are dark circles painting his under-eyes and frown lines on his forehead and that doesn’t sit well with you, because there’s always either an annoying smirk or a bright smile plastered on his face.

For moments and moments, your eyes rest on the boy in front of you, drinking in his presence – the coruscating eyes and pretty lips behind his inspired, untiring voice.

“Hi,” he breathes with an indifferent expression, removing his headphones hastily before he stands up to close the gap between the two of you. The nervous flickering of your eyes doesn’t escape his notice.

“Hey,” you whisper back, lips quivering. There are many more words on the tip of your tongue, but the prevailing fear that catches in your throat freezes your lungs.

The boys have filed out of the locker room to give you two some privacy and now the world is basking in their awkward, ricocheting off the window in a quiet plea for noise. It is so quiet that if you focus more, you could hear the erratic thumping of your heart.

“How’s your article?” Taehyung asks and silence comes to splinter like a stone thrown at a wall, colliding with it and shattering like lightning bolts.

A frown settles itself on your temple at how he is trying to make everything seem all right. How the first thing he does is ask you about your article when you’re the one clearly at fault and he isn’t even showing signs of anger towards you. How could he be so selfless?

“It’s fine,” you mumble, “But I’m not here to…. I’m…”

Without warning, you go on your toes and reach for the rosy flesh on his mouth. At your touch, his entire body softens. It feels like there’s a cavernous hole in his aching heart.

“I’m sorry, Tae.”

Taehyung gives you a little nod, his way of saying it’s okay, before closing his eyes until they disappear in the shadows of his long black lashes.

You kiss him with profound earnestness that had been missing during the first kiss, dusting kisses over every inch of his blushing features, until you’re breathless, dizzy with want. There’s this inexplicable spark of desire growing within you and warming your body from inside out. Your heart longs for him, marvels in how right it feels to be in his arms, to kiss him, to be as close to him as possible.

Gosh, you’ve missed this so much.

Taehyung’s hands find your face, cradling your cheeks as if you’re the most delicate flower he has ever encountered, as if your petals would tear apart if he wasn’t gentle with you. He doesn’t look away from your eyes, searching your gaze silently. Now that you’re here, standing right in front of his very eyes, it makes everything all the more painful.

You move your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him into another gentle kiss, falling onto him like moonlight on a window seat.

“Princess…” He calls for you, voice deep and huskier than you’d ever heard it, and the timber of it sends shivers raking down your spine, “You know that I’m physically incapable of being angry or upset with you.”

The two of you move silently in each other's orbits, solitary planets in a lonely galaxy.

“I’m sorry for everything,” you whisper against his lips as his fingers play with the hem of your shirt.

“Hey, it’s okay, love. I’m just happy that you’re here.”

More words are lost on his tongue as he seizes the opportunity to drink in the sight of you, his eyes trace the outline of your visage, from the curve of your nose to the arch of your philtrum and down to the soft of your lips.

“Are we just going to stare at each other until the buzzer rings?” You joke.

“Can I? I haven’t looked at your face enough lately,” he laughs, “Missed your face. A lot.”

His eyelashes brush against his cheeks, following the stare of your eyes into deep brown irises. When he leans a fraction of a space closer, his bangs brush softly against your forehead.

“Taehyung…” You breathe out, reaching out to caress his face, fingers brushing away his bangs from his eyes, “Can I ask you something?”

“As a friend or a reporter?”

“Neither,” you reply, “I just wanted to know… Since when?”

“Since when?” He tilts his head.

“Since when did you start having feelings for me?”

He laughs like it’s an obvious question, tugging the fallen strand of your hair behind your ears. His expression is hard to decipher, it’s a combination of amusement and endearment, but he is smiling so widely that it’s almost blinding.

“I’ve always liked you, Y/N. Remember when Yoongi-hyung introduced you to me and you were angry about something?”

“I’m always angry about something.”

“I thought you were interesting as fuck.”

“You’re fucking weird.”

“Okay, but can you at least tell me why you hated me?”

“Fine. It’s because… Iwasjealousathowyou’regoodateverything.”

“W-What?”

“I was jealous… because you’re good at everything. Like without even trying. And I thought it was plain unfair, because people like me need to work so hard to do well, while there are people like you who are just… born talented.”

“I—”

“But after getting to know you, I realised that I’ve completely misunderstood you. You hide a lot of things about yourself, but you’re incredibly humble and hardworking even though you’re fucking annoying and cocky. And you’re so selfless, you offer help to your teammates when you notice them struggling. And you’re also so nice to everyone, you make them feel comfortable. Y-You kind of bring light to everyone around you. That’s just your charm, I guess.”

You reach out to hold his hand, but he beats you to it, taking your palm into his. He starts playing with your fingers, mapping every whorl of the ridges on your fingertips.

“Remember the day Yoongi introduced us to each other? It was also the day I failed my scholarship interview. I was up against you and there was only one slot left. You got it, so when you were teasing me for being grumpy, I kind of took my anger out on you. Felt like you were making fun of me.”

“Shit,” he curses under his breath, “I was smiling at you because I found you cute, dumbass. I kept pestering Yoongi-hyung to introduce me to you so when he finally, I was so nervous and didn’t know how to behave in front of you. I didn’t even know that I was up against you for the scholarship.”

When Yoongi first introduced you to Taehyung, he thought that you two would hit off long. But he didn’t take into account the fact that Taehyung and you are polar opposites – your petulance and Taehyung’s happy-go-lucky attitude is a stark juxtaposition. So when Taehyung opened his mouth and told Yoongi (right in front of you, bitch) that you looked like you were about to cry, his chin tilted up slightly, one eyebrow cocked, right after you found out that you failed your scholarship, so it was a straight-up no for Kim.

“Well, we’re both dumb.”

You look away in faux-annoyance, desperately trying to prevent your cheeks from igniting under the warm gaze that deftly lights upon you. “Long story short: I’m mean and I don’t deserve you.”

He cups your face with a smile so bright that his nose scrunches up adorable, “What are you on about? We were made to complete the living hell of each other.”

This prompts another fond smile to play on your lips, one so tight it hurts your cheeks.

When you realise that time’s running out, you tip-toe to press another kiss on his cheek, “For good luck. Go out there and get the trophy for me, bitch.”

The smile you give is soft and pink-cheeked, but familiar in every kind of way and for the umpteenth time, Taehyung gets the fucking air truly knocked out of his lungs. He’s a goner.

“You know,” his eyes are soft and there’s a wisp of a smile on his rosy lips, “I’ll get you the moon if you asked. But you deserve so much more than just the moon, Princess.”

If there’s one thing you know, it’s that you have almost always wanted to kiss Kim Taehyung. From the very start. And if there’s one thing that you don’t, it’s that the same boy will almost always kiss you back until you’re drowning in honey.

After Taehyung receives the trophy and lifts it high in the air for everyone to see with his teammates cheering around him, the entire ordeal almost has you in tears and you run to him, pressing kisses and bites down necks and collarbones. The ministrations don’t stop even when the two of you waltz-dance and skip all the way to his apartment, never getting enough of each other’s touches.

Taehyung’s fingers knot in your hair, controlling the kiss, his other hand finding purchase on the curve of your waist and teeth digging into the swell of your lower lip. You let out a whine that only encourages Taehyung to press against you closer and kiss you harder, in such a primal way that has heat swirling in your belly and wetness to pool between your thighs.

Your fire to him is the most peerless of lights.

Adrenaline runs through his entire body, lighting up his nerves like fireworks as he removes your shirt and openly soaks in the sight of your body, how your breasts are cupped by your lacey bra and how you’re blushing fervently.

“So pretty for me. All for me.”

You don’t miss the way he growls and licks his lips, eyes hooded as he stares at you like you’re a piece of meat that he can’t wait to devour. And his actions prove his ardent hunger when he grabs your chin and tilts it to the side, before attaching his lips greedily to the skin on your neck and licking a stripe over the flesh. He carries on nibbling on the sensitive part of your skin, sucking and biting in a way that is sure to leave you crying for more.

“Wow, and I thought you’d be tired after the game.”

He is already breathing heavily as he towers over you, biting back his moans, rocking his hips upwards for some needed friction.

“Can’t be tired when I’m just getting started with you.”

He pushes you onto the bed and comes crawling to hover over you within seconds as he connects his lips aggressively with your neck once more. While he continues to suck faint lilac bruises into your skin, you can’t help but jut your hips firmly against his, an instinctive reaction to feel more of him.

He groans loudly and this spurs you to give another experimental roll of your hips over his. This time he freezes and accidentally bites down on your neck a little harder than before which earns another sharp gasp from you, but this only douses the flames licking your abdomen. He leans back to apologise, but his words are lost at the tip of his tongue when you continue to grind against him shamelessly. His hands fall to your hips, nails digging firmly in place, and holds you down against his raging boner that now pokes at your inner thighs.

Thrashing in Taehyung’s grip, you sit up, hands finding the courage to explore the soft material of his shirt. Running your fingers over the buttons, you hastily tug it off him, lingering your fingers over his bare skin that you desperately want to kiss with your lips, lick with your tongue and mark with your teeth as yours.

You feel his hunger swallow you whole, his gaze leaving trails of fire as they run all over your body, electrifying you all over.

“Can I eat you out?” His voice is deep, much huskier than ever, and the timber of it sends shivers raking down your spine.

“God, why did you ever think that I would say no?”

In the briefest of moments, Taehyung tugs your shorts down with a grunt. Your eyes lock briefly, heat blooming like a stove burner, flaring up with that low flickering blue when you notice the pure, unadulterated lust in his concupiscent eyes. Fizzy warmth floods your belly, the knot of lust tightening within your abdomen.

His hands rub at your thighs, spreading them widely as he moves down the expanse of your body. There’s a raw power hidden in his hands and it’s tantalisingly arousing to feel those fingertips pressing into the meat of your thighs, wandering under you to squeeze at your ass.

Leaning in, he begins to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses over your bare torso, before trailing lower to your inner thighs and giving them a few kitten licks. You squirm underneath him at the intimacy, while an involuntary gasp leaves your lips at the sensation of his warm breath and lips dusting across your sensitive skin. The sudden stimulation leaves you aching for his lips to be somewhere else, somewhere where it’s throbbing to be touched, to be filled.

Taehyung seems to sense exactly what you want and the next thing you know, you’re falling back onto your elbows and his nose is pressed into the cotton of your underwear. He inhales deeply and groans, eyes cloudy with lust and pleasure, relishing the unbidden scent of your arousal.

Fucking hell.

The hot of his tongue starts teasing your bud through the sheer fabric, sucking through your underwear. Timidly, you lift your lips up, seeking for friction, but Taehyung doesn’t relent, pushing you back down.

“Gotta be patient, Princess.”

When he finally, like finally, removes your soaked underwear, he dips his head between your thighs and licks a long, languid strip along your folds. This elicits a loud keen from you, hips bucking but he winds his arms under your legs and over your hips to properly restrain you. He begins slowly again, lapping up your juices like a man starved, his satisfied whimpers sending vibrations straight to your clit.

“You smell so fucking good,” he continues on to wrap his plush lips around your clit, growling against your pussy and you feel it vibrate deep in your core, “But taste even fucking better.”

Ecstasy washes over you and you cry out, pleasure hot and sharp shooting through your veins to feed the tightening coil in your abdomen as you writhe in his iron grasp, fingers grasping for purchase at his hair.

“Can fucking eat you out all day, want to bet?”

His teeth scrape lightly against the nub when he speaks, and your back arches at the pleasure. He continues to slurp up whatever you offer him, before giving in to your unspoken request, trailing a finger up your folds and sliding it in.

You’ve always known that Taehyung has long, slender fingers – you’ve noticed how long and pretty they are when they’re wrapped around the football, when he waves to you and when he plays with your fingers. And perhaps, you’ve thought about him doing things to you with those fingers before, but now that he has his finger in you, you cannot emphasise how otherworldly it feels. Fucking delirious.

His long digit meets no resistance, instantly enveloped in the tight, slick heat of your core as he goes in knuckle-deep and adds another finger, and it makes you feel so full that you’re losing your mind. You scream even more when he fucks you deep with both his knuckles and the flat of his hot tongue, bringing the inklings of stars behind your eyes.

His fingers continue to pump into you in a quicker succession that has you trembling and keening. Your pussy gushes at his merciless, erratic flicks and pokes at your hot spots, clenching around his fingers and soaking them in your intoxicating sweetness. Shockwaves begin to tear through you and you’re coming too hard and too fast. But Taehyung doesn’t stop and continues to suck harder to help you ride out the pleasure, the squelch of his tongue lapping at your juices filling the entire room in their entirety.

“Please, Tae, please I’m c-close. Your fingers… Fuck. Feel so good. Fuck, fuck!”

You’re dripping, leaking even by now and when he detaches away from your clit to look at you, you can see your own juices glisten on his lips, dribble down to his chin, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. The throb in your core has never been more torturous.

He leans in to give your clit another chaste kiss and your hips buck up instantly into his face as he gathers the arousal onto his tongue, tasting the heavenly mix of your juices and his saliva.

“Does Princess want to taste how sweet she is? Princess likes my fingers, doesn’t she?” He purrs, coating your juices with his fingers and holding them up so you can see how they coruscate in the dim light.

Nodding hazily, you open your mouth and he doesn’t hesitate to slide three of his digits in and you suck the evidence of your own bliss off his skin, enjoying your own taste and the weight and fit of his slender fingers in your mouth. Taehyung swallows in satisfaction and fervour at how dirty you look.

“Fuck, Y/N. Can’t wait to fuck you. Going to fuck you so good you can’t walk for days.”

A spark of a fire in the very core of your being, beginning to fizzle outward at his words.

Without warning, he pounces onto you, planting kisses on your jawline and down your neck again. When you crane your neck to give him more space, he takes his time, hard muscle of his tongue lapping at your sweet skin, lips sucking until a bruise begins to bloom.

“So fucking beautiful, God,” he croons, threading his fingers through your hair as he groans at how hot this is.  

“Taehyung,” you breathe, looking up through your eyelashes, vision hazy with lust, “Want your fat cock in my fucking mouth. Please?”

Taehyung grunts loudly at your crude request, rolling his eyes in a mixture of disbelief and pleasure. He wants your words, this exact memory, to be burned into the very cells of his brain.

“Yeah? Princess wants my dick?”

Pushing his sweats and underwear down with swift fingers, you watch how his dick slaps hard against his stomach. It is searing red at the tip, the head thicker than the shaft, begging to be touched.

You want to fucking sit on it, suck him till you’ve milked him of all his cum. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before, not when his long fingers are wrapped around his fat cock, giving it a couple of quick strokes. Fuck, his fingers can barely wrap around his dick and that itself makes you dizzy with arousal.

“Open wide, sweetie.”

You throw yourself in front of his thighs, mouth wide, sticking your tongue out in anticipation. You can’t help but moan out loud when Taehyung slaps the head of his dick against your cheek, spreading precum all over, and then on your tongue, before slowly feeding you his cock. Fuck, you feel so dirty.

Taehyung’s cock rests heavy on your tongue, throbbing in the wet heat of your mouth. You lick a long stripe with your tongue on the underside of his length, feeling the very veins that have popped out.

He doesn’t believe that it’s happening. He can’t, not at how he has dreamt about this more times than he can count with both hands, and now it is actually fucking happening.

He grunts, “Dreamt about this so many times. You have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off to this.”

“Jerked off to what?” You tease as your fingers wrap themselves around the base of Taehyung’s dick to keep it steady, massaging his balls every now and then, as you suck noisily around the tip. Running your tongue along the side of his shaft and then back up to swirl your tongue at his slit to lick at his precum, you rejoice in the almost pained whine he lets out.

“Jerked off to you on your knees, looking pretty as fuck, while sucking my fat cock,” he smirks, without blinking an eye at the announcement of his fantasy.

Shuddering at his words, you start to bob your head, taking a little more of him every time you go down until you’re choking and your eyes are watering.

“Fuck yeah, just like that. Does Princess want me to fuck her throat? Feel so full and good?”

A low groan rumbles from deep within his throat, bordering on animalistic, which sends tremors of desire to thrum through your veins.

Peering up through fluttering lashes at Taehyung with your plush lips stretched wide around him, you smile at his fucked-out expression and proceed to alternate licking between his balls and his hard shaft.

When you take his cock into your mouth again, you purr at the fullness of him, opening your mouth wider to take him deeper until he’s fucked himself to the hilt of your throat, your nose buried in the tussock of cleanly trimmed pubic hair at his navel.

“Not so snarky anymore now with my cock in your mouth, huh?”

You don’t reply. The darkness in your eyes is enough to send a punch of heat straight into the pit of Taehyung’s gut and he can’t help but buck his hips forward, sliding right into the wet, hot vice of your throat, fucking right into your throat ruthlessly, leaving you a whimpering, writhing mess.

You don’t stop suckling with your lips, coating his length in saliva and then pull off with a little 'pop’, your hands still working at the base of Taehyung’s cock, fondling his balls.

“C-Cum,” your lips gleam in saliva and precum, “Please… Cum on my face.”

“Want me to come all over your face, doll? You’re so fucking dirty.”

Taehyung grips at his cock, stroking it a few times, before he taps his cock against your cheek again. His mind is sent in turmoil when you stick your tongue out and before he knows it, he’s ejaculating in thick spurts all over your face.

You look so fucking pretty with globs of white all over your chin and cheek and Taehyung shivers in ecstasy, a growl ready at the back of his throat, “Y-You really have no idea what you do to me.”

You lick off what he can, relishing in the taste of Taehyung as you swipe your thumb over your mouth to coat it with his cum and suck on it, while your other hand reaches behind to squeeze his ass.

“You weren’t kidding about your ass,” you whirl, slapping his ass and loving the way it jiggles.

“Yeah? It’s all yours, Princess.”

Taehyung traces the knobs on the base of your spine with his other hand, finding warm and soft skin. You let out another desperate sound against your lips, feeling a shock of electricity zip through your back down to your very core.  

Arching your back, you throw your head back and Taehyung takes this opportunity and slips his tongue in the hot wet of your mouth and licks fervently at the four corners, rougher and needier this time round.

It’s as if all at once, something connects between you two. You find it impossible to breathe properly, hands fisted in Taehyung’s locks, dizzy and lightheaded and hot all over. Taehyung’s teeth scrape over your bottom lip. It’s almost impossible to pull away, but when you finally break apart, a strand of saliva connects your mouths together and it lands on your chest.

“Fuck, so dirty,” Taehyung’s eyes are golden, blown wide, and he smiles at you so dearly that it makes your chest gnaw. It’s the littlest of moments and softest of gasps that render you breathless. Every part of your body that Taehyung has touched feels like it’s on fire, but it’s the deep timber of his voice, almost a growl, that makes you feel like he’s melting.

“So wet for me.”

He yearns to memorize the map of your body, the trenches of the grooves on your lower back, the stars living in your eyes, the parts of your body that have you shuddering from the pleasure.

You can feel it, the tip of his cock brushing against your wetness and you let out a soft plea. Your stomach ties into a knot when he slaps his dick against your clit a few times, loving how his head is already soaked by your juices. When you search for his eyes, you see that his irises are long gone, blanketed with pure, unadulterated lust.

“Want you. Want you to fuck me with your fat cock, Tae.”

He has to bite his own flesh to suppress the feral moan threatening to drip from his swollen, red lips, “Fucking hell. Can’t believe you used to hate me. Now here you are, begging me to fuck you.”

Your breath hitches when you feel him enter you, his cock pushing against your walls and stretching you out so good. He eases his cock slowly until it fills you the brim, pushing against your hot walls until he can go no further.

“You’re so tight for me. Feels fucking good,” he breathes out with a hazy smile, and your eyes flutter closed.

He doesn’t move for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the stretch and burn, before the wriggle of your hips urges him to move and he knows that he’s about to take you higher than ever. He lifts his lips to almost pull all the way out, the tip nestling an inch within your entrance, and without warning, slams back into your cunt, drawing a choked moan from the both of you as his length drags against your walls and hits a spot deep inside you.

Your back arches off the bed at the pleasure, a sharp cry leaving your lips.

“Fuck yeah, you like that princess? Going to be a good girl for me?”

“Yes, yes! Fuck Taehyung. You feel so good.”

This only prompts him to repeat the movement a few more times, until he settles on pounding into you mercilessly with a precision that he flaunts on the field. He continues fucking into that same sensitive spot over and over again with no signs of slowing down, finally able to fulfil the primal, animalistic need and urge that has accumulated ever since the day he met you.

As his hips snap into yours, his palm remains gentle on your face, his tongue hot and assimilating your own so passionately and tenderly that it makes your heart melt. There’s just something so tangibly tender and sensual about the way he’s kissing you, while fucking you senseless, as if he wants you to know how much he wants this, how much he wants to give himself to you with each stroke.

How much love he has to devote to you.  

“Faster, faster, don’t stop, Taehyung. Fuck.”

You can feel every drag of Taehyung’s thick cock inside you, his ridges sliding against your walls and hitting that little bundle of nerves inside you that has got you babbling nonsense and your eyes rolled all the way up.

Screwing your eyes closed, the sparks glow brighter, and your moans heighten in pitch, while you sink your teeth into the swollen flesh of your lower lip. Above you, Taehyung learns that your mouth is sinful from the way you’re repeating curses and cries like a mantra and from the way drool is dripping down your chin. It’s just how unbelievably rough he’s fucking you, rough enough that you’re convinced there will be bruises all over your body and he’s going to rip you apart. But maybe that’s what you want, maybe that’s exactly what Taehyung intends to do to you.

“Say please.”

He then sits up and leans back to rest on his calves, before he hikes your leg up to rest over his shoulder, effectively folding you into half, and pulls you towards him roughly to fuck into you harder. You keen loudly at the new angle, how he’s able to fuck into you so much deeper, hands clawing at the sheets and dragging long, red marks on his back.

“Please, Taehyung. Please, you fuck me so fucking good.”

He smirks at how helpless you are underneath him and frees his hand from your thigh, reaching to search for yours, intertwining them tightly.

Which each thrust, the both of you grow closer to your impending orgasms, excitement curling in your abdomen along with pleasure that shoots straight to your core as Taehyung continues to pummel into your welcoming heat, strong thighs trembling against the backs of yours.

His other hand rest on your hips as his fingers squeeze and caress your skin each time you curse and whimper his name lasciviously, blending in with the symphony of skin slapping against skin, of his balls and thighs smacking against your ass that stirs the silence.

“I’m on the pill. Cum inside me, please. Want your hot cum in me.”

“Princess wants to be my personal cum-dumpster, doesn’t she?”  

Taehyung dips his head over your chest and takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking it lavishly as if the taste of you is suddenly too much to bear. You wail in pleasure, back arched all the way up, the grip on his hand tightening as your hips rise to meet the brutal thrusts of his hips, pleasure shooting white hot to join the heated desire in your core.

That’s all you need to lurch over the edge. The coil within your core suddenly snaps with the tension and then comes the onslaught of immense white-hot pleasure, curling and roaring like a beast in your stomach, the pressure between your legs immeasurably high. You clamp around him one last time, galaxies firing in the murky red of your eyelids as he coaxes you through your orgasm.

You know Taehyung’s close too – now faster, more erratic, as he chases his release relentlessly. For a moment, all you can see is glorious light, blinding your vision until it consumes you whole and you’re shaking ferociously.  

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when Taehyung comes hard with a harsh shudder and an animalistic growl from between his clenched teeth, thrumming at his warm seed inside you. He isn’t done with you yet though. When he pulls out, the emptying sensation of his cock being drawn out of your walls gives rise to another wail from you, but you forget all over it when he rubs the swollen tip of his dick against your clit in a circular movement, playing to its sensitivity and pushing in his cum inside you again. His personal cum-dumpster.

Taehyung kisses you once more just because he can, and then lets his eyes run over the girl in front of him and his mind goes blank because wow, that actually happened – and it certainly did, evident from the mussed hair, blown hazy pupils, lovebites all over flustered skin and the soft, dreamy smile belonging to a pair of swollen-red lips.

This, Taehyung registers despite the giddy turbulence in his mind, is the most beautiful smile he has ever seen. So unbelievably, heart-wrenchingly beautiful that he can feel something in his chest splinter.

There’s a passing second of staring at each other, your cheek deep in the pillow, his head lulled against the headboard.

Taehyung lets out a chuckle, airy and filled with a rasp of post-sleep that would never come. He moves slowly, creaking the mattress in droning successions as he slips his arm around your waist, dusting little kisses on your nose before bringing up your hand to his lips. You realise that he likes doing that.

He stares at you for a long while, thumb over the back of your hand in tandem with the flick of his eyes, back and forth, between yours.

Even in the dark, Taehyung’s lovely flush is brilliant, otherworldly effervescent.  

“You know when you said those things to Yoongi, I knew you said it out of a fit, but I couldn’t help but be upset about it.”

“Tae—”

His lips quirk upward on the edges into something knowing, “Then I realised that this was the first time I was genuinely upset about someone’s opinion about me. I usually don’t care what people think of me. I mean I don’t live to impress them, so this made me realised that I actually care a lot about what you think about me. About how you feel about me, whether I’m just a dumb fuckboy to you or whether you see the real me.”

He presses another kiss to your knuckles and your entire body tingles with warmth, “Then it hit me. That you know, maybe I really, really do have feelings for you and I want you to like me too. Like for real. I know I said that I don’t have the time and energy to deal with feelings. But you… You drive me insane. I used to be cynical about being so vulnerable for someone, and it’s so scary how much you can yearn for someone’s attention and affection. It’s just crazy – the things you do to me.”

As his words spill into the spaces between you, you simmer in the comfortable silence, ignoring the sharp tugs at your heartstrings.

“Never thought I’d live to see this day,” he mumbles, before pressing a kiss to your forehead with an earnestness that heightens the tugs at your heartstrings.

“Talk about character development,” you joke, burying your face in his chest and finding solace in the warmth of the sweet honey gold that he possesses. His hand on your waist begins caressing the small of your back, bringing you closer to him, until his nose is settled in the crook of your neck.

“Looks like my YOLO-ing did me some good,” he whispers into your ear and there’s a resplendent lilt to his voice.

It takes you a while for you to realise that he’s referring to the fake quote you’ve assigned to him.

Taehyung smiles at your deadpan expression and it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. His mouth is pulled into a rectangle and his eyes are curved into crescents. You realise this a long time ago, but you will finally admit to it now – Taehyung is beautiful. He is so beautiful that he could rearrange continent with that smile of his.

When he laughs and the moonlight catches on the flecks of gold in melted brown, that’s when you know that you’re struck with a love the size of the entire galaxy for him. To hell with your past hatred and feud with him, you’re just grateful to have your entire universe lying right beside you, right in this moment, under the burning light of the great, yellow moon that hangs heavy and radiant above the two of you.

that’s it. that’s the mammoth i’ve been brewing over the past few months (and rushing it like mad over the past two weeks)! i wanted to depict tae as accurately as possible so i made sure to include the little tiny details and quirks of his ;; did you know that he was the one who coined the term bread cheeks??? there’s a video of him comparing his cheeks to bread buns and i think that started the entire trend i’m just. i never want tae to be sad he has the purest and biggest heart

thank you so much for reading this and if you enjoyed it, please please hit that like or reblog button or/and hmu in my inbox/dms! ♡ i love receiving asks and messages tho sometimes ;; i just disappear from the face of the earth. i literally post a fic every 6 months sobs but next up sugarplum elegy (and i promise i won’t take another 6 months, my aim to upload it is end june!) love you guys  much and remember to take care of yourself – i believe in your galaxy ☁️💫💜💞🌃✨

[touchstarvedsam]

Deft hands remove the tacky yellow polo, revealing flawless tanned skin slick with sweat, a moan of “Dean” falling from parted pink lips, kiss swollen.

Dean wakes up with a hiss, sitting up in the motel room bed. There’s a light sheen of sweat on his forehead and his chest is heaving from the dream he was having. Nightmare, he tries to correct, but knows that’s not true. He looks down and sees the thin blanket is slightly tented and he growls in frustration, looking over at the clock and pointedly not past it towards Sam.

4:27 AM the digital clock on the nightstand tells him and he resigns himself to another sleepless night. He gets up and heads for the shower just knowing it’s going to be a long day.

The cold water doesn’t help his erection all that much with those visions swimming around in his head, both turning him on and turning his stomach at the same time. He remembers how it felt, Sam under him. He remembers the breathy way his brother -- no, not his brother, a different Sam, though deep down he knows it was still his Sam -- would moan his name.

They woke up like Sandover never happened and, well, to Sam it never did. Sam didn’t have the honor of meeting Zachariah. Sam isn’t tainted with the memories of Dean pushing him down face first onto Dean Smith’s desk and fucking him raw. Though Sam felt it, Dean knows. He saw the way Sam hissed in pain when he first sat up upon waking, the weird limp he walked with, and the careful way he’d lower himself into the passenger seat of the Impala. And he hated himself for not being able to apologize when Sam said, “I think I pulled something, because I- it just hurts.”

Four days later and he still hates himself.

Four days later and he’s still having wet dreams -- memories -- of their coupling, like a teenage boy crushing on his hot teacher. He’s harbored these feelings for Sam for so long and all it took was one meddling winged dickhead and all of it comes crashing down.

He wishes Zachariah took his memories because then he wouldn’t have to remember that getting what he’s wanted all along was just a one time deal. The angels are doing more harm than good and Dean wants them gone.

Every time he closes his eyes he sees Sammy pushing his ass back, begging Dean for more. Sees the way Sam’s big, skinny hands grip the opposite side of the desk as Dean pounds into him from behind, hands that aren’t littered with callouses from gun wielding gripping Sam’s lithe hips and bruising him, leaving his mark for days.

Dean almost came in his pants when he saw the bruises on Sam the next morning as Sam got dressed. Luckily for Dean, the motel didn’t have big enough mirrors for Sam to look at his hips after showering or he’d have questions Dean can never answer.

“You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?” Dean Smith asks, lips centimetres away from Sam Wesson’s. He can feel his breath fanning over his lips as he pants. Sam’s backed against Dean’s desk, partially sitting but still fully clothed, and Dean presses a knee against Sam’s erection. The kid from tech support hisses, his chest arching as he tries to gain friction, but Dean holds still, just keeping pressure. “Are you going to be my good boy, Sam?”

“--ean!”

“Yes, yes, Mr. Smith, please just--”

Trailing a finger over Sam’s flushed cheek, he says, “What did I tell you, Sam? Call me--”

“DEAN!”

Dean startles out of his reverie and looks over at Sam, shocked that he’s remembering in the middle of the day. He blinks at Sam then asks, “What?”

“Dude, I’ve been calling your name for like five minutes. Are you okay?”

Am I okay, he thinks, wishing he could just snap, No because I’m imagining holding you down and fucking you like I did in the alternate world you don’t remember.

“I’m fine, man, just tired. What’d you find?”

Sam seems to visibly relax at the mention of the case they’re working. “So get this...”

~ ! ~

Dean wakes with a start but not with an erection or from a dream. He’s not panting or sweating. What the hell woke him up?

“Please...”

His head turns so fast his neck protests but Sam sounds like he’s in pain and big brother instincts always kick in when Sam’s in pain. “Sammy?” he asks softly.

“Dean... please...”

Dean stops moving to get off the bed, one foot on the floor; he’s frozen, eyes locked on Sam’s sleeping form. Sam’s sweating, his hair matted to his forehead, and his chest is rising and falling at a more rapid pace, panting. His thin fingers grip the blanket pulled up to his chest.

And he just moaned Dean’s name.

“Sam?” he cautions, moving slow. His left foot comes off the bed to meet his right and he stands. The closer to Sam he gets the better he can see him. He’s got his lower lip trapped between his teeth and his whole body seems to be wracked by tremors, but it’s only when he’s standing right above him that he sees it, sees what’s got Sam moaning.

Sam’s hard, and there’s a wet patch growing on the blanket right above the tent and Dean has to take a deep breath to calm himself before he does something stupid. Sam’s a guy, and they’ve been sharing a room for years, it’s not like he’s never seen Sammy have a wet dream before. He just- Sam’s never called out Dean’s name before.

“Oh god, Dean- Dean- I need you, please--”

“Dean, I need you- please!”

“Fuck,” he groans, running a hand through his short hair and messing it up more than the pillow did. “You’re killing me here, kiddo.” If he wasn’t having memory flashes of Sam Wesson writhing under him and saying the exact words his baby brother is moaning in his sleep right now, it wouldn’t be as bad. But god, Dean is yearning.

There’s an unspoken bro code: don’t wake a guy up from a wet dream; it’s just fucking weird. But he can’t listen to Sam moan like this anymore or he’ll do something they will both regret.

He shakes Sam’s shoulder, relishes in the heat radiating off of him, and Sam startles awake with a yelp. His eyes are frantic as he searches for the enemy before landing on Dean, lust blown and wide. Dean licks his lips and lets go of his shoulder, “Hey, hey, you’re okay, Sammy,” he soothes, backing up to sit on the edge of his own bed. “You’re safe. You were just, uh- dreaming.”

Sam still looks panicked, eyes wide and almost scared. He says, voice cracking, “I- we were- oh god. Dean.”

Dean knows exactly what Sam is sputtering about but he plays dumb, asks, “What were you dreaming about?” despite his better judgement.

Sam seems to deflate at that, shoulders sagging as he whispers, “You’d never wanna look at me again.” He fiddles with the blanket. “I’m gonna go take a shower,” he says and proceeds to get off the bed on the other side, presumably to hide his obvious erection.

It isn’t until he hears the water running that he lies back down. If Sam’s getting his memories of Sandover back in his dreams, Dean is screwed.

~ ! ~

A new development is Sam’s cheeks pinking when Dean gets too close. He teases Sam because that’s what he’s supposed to do as a big brother, but now it seems to be affecting Sam in a completely different way. He’s been woken up from a dead sleep three times now with Sam’s moaning, and every morning he’s rock hard as he watches his little brother come in his sleep pants.

He particularly loves when Sam’s chest arches almost completely off the bed, hair fanned out over the pillow, as he comes with Dean’s name on his tongue. He feigns sleep while Sam gets up to shower at the ass crack of dawn, and Dean rubs one out to Sam’s moans playing over and over in his head.

If this keeps up, he’s not going to be able to hold off any longer.

~ ! ~

“I, uh--” Sam’s got that gorgeous blush on his cheeks again. “I think I’m gonna get a separate room tonight, Dean. I- I’m not feeling well and I don’t think you need to hear me getting sick all night...”

If by getting sick he means moaning Dean’s name all night Sam couldn’t be more wrong.

“Sammy, when have we ever got separate rooms? Even when you had the flu I didn’t leave you. C’mon.” He tugs on Sam’s jacket sleeve and pulls his little brother against his side to make sure he can’t get away. “Just let big brother take care of you. I always know what to do with you, don’t I?”

If possible, Sam’s blush turns a deeper scarlet and Dean smirks when his head is turned away. Oh yeah, he’s still got it.

His dreams stopped right around the time Sam’s started, like a transference, but Dean’s not complaining. He’s enjoying the view of Sammy coming every night to the thought of Dean fucking him on an office desk. If it gets any worse, Sam might seek out real Dean’s attention, and Dean is -- not so patiently -- waiting. He’s not gonna let Sammy go on like this for too much longer. Dean’s dick can’t handle how frequently he’s jerking off.

~ ! ~

This time he’s not awoken by Sammy’s sweet little moans. He’s awoken by the bed dipping behind him and he self-consciously reaches for the knife he’s got under his pillow, until he smells Sam’s sweat and girly shampoo. He relaxes back into the mattress and waits.

“Dean,” Sam whispers, sounding lost.

Not moving, ever the blase big brother, he asks, “Yeah, Sammy?”

“I keep- I keep having these dreams and they- Dean, they feel so real- I don’t know what to think anymore.” He sounds so lost, so broken that Dean rolls half onto his back and looks up at his little brother. “I know this is going to sound gross because we’re brothers and I’m sorry but I- I can’t hold it in anymore, Dean.” He takes a deep breath, like he’s psyching himself up to talk about what Dean already knows about. “I’m having dreams about you. And me. And--”

Without thinking, Dean reaches a hand up and cups Sam’s very warm cheek, startling his baby brother. “I know, kiddo,” he soothes. “I know. I’ve had them, too.”

“You- what?”

“I’m gonna sound like I’m crazy but hear me out, Sam.” He sits up completely so they’re face to face, hand never leaving Sam’s pinkwarm cheek. “They aren’t dreams. They’re memories.”

Sam stares at him blankly a moment then laughs awkwardly, says, “Yeah sure, Dean,” and moves to get up from the bed, but Dean’s hand on his cheek moves to grip the back of Sam’s neck and pulls him in so they’re nose to nose. “Dean--”

“Remember the morning you woke up sore? When you couldn’t sit right for a few days?”

“Yeah, I- no, no way.”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he replies, the pet name just rolling off his tongue like he’s said it his whole life. “Yeah.”

“Oh god.”

Dean keeps him grounded by squeezing the back of his neck. “But listen, Sammy, I don’t regret it, and I don’t want you to, either. I think it’s something we could have.” He smiles softly, making sure Sam’s eyes are on his as he starts to lean in. “If it’s something you want, that is.” Sam meets him halfway and they share their first real kiss.

Sam doesn’t go back to his own bed that night.

[sephiwhore]

Ok but literally all the cyberpunk oc questions? LETS GO CHOOM!!! -thosetwistedtales

Bet you didn’t think I’d actually do it >:3 Okay well I technically didn’t, I did skip some of them cause I couldn’t think of anything, I’d already answered it, or the answer was just “no”.

Without further ado I present, All The Questions about Tess, answered under the cut!

— BASICS

full name: Tess Valere

birthday: She has no idea, and for most of her life she didn’t even know birthdays were a thing

gender and pronouns: Female, she/her

nicknames or aliases: V (obviously), her surrogate brother called her Tessa

sexuality: a big ol bisexual

ethnicity: a big ol white girl

affiliations [corporation/gang/themselves/etc]: she grew up on the streets of Heywood, so certain Valentinos would help her out now and again. She’s nowhere near loyal to them, but she’ll try to avoid killing them during jobs

what languages do they speak?: English, conversational Spanish, and she knows a handful of Japanese words

— PERSONALITY

alignment: Chaotic Good, but she dabbles in Chaotic Neutral

color(s) you associate with them: cyan and black and after Johnny comes into her life, red

theme song: Unbreakable by Fireflight

what heavenly virtue would you assign them? Humility

what deadly sin would you assign them? Wrath

what is their biggest strength? Sheer fucking perseverence, mostly fueled by spite

what is their biggest fear? Losing the people she loves, because throughout her life those have been few and far between and she’s lost a good number of them

what is their biggest weakness? Again, the people she loves

are they confident in their abilities? Oh you bet your ass she is, so confident that she stormed Arasaka Tower with nothing but her revolver and her cyberdeck

what is their opinion on cybernetics? They’re a necessary evil. Her brother dealt with cyberpsychosis so in a way she resents cybernetics, but she also knows that you won’t get far as a merc in Night City without a few implants

do they have a good sense of humor? Yes, very dry and sarcastic

how do they cry? When she cries it’s either from rage or panic, very little in between

how do they laugh? Quite subdued, usually the most you’ll get out of her is a hearty chuckle. Very rarely does she go into a full laughing fit

do they smoke? She started smoking after Johnny popped up in her head cause she felt bad for his situation (after she stopped hating him anyway) and figured she could give him this one thing. And now she smokes like a chimney.

do they drink? She’s been dealing with alcohol dependence and borderline alcoholism for half of her life

what kind of drunk are they? As she drinks more it progresses from pretty chill, then VERY affectionate, and then Fightey

do they take any drugs? She knows how she is with alcohol so she avoids drugs like the plague

— COMBAT

preferred weapon: For close/mid-range, a nice beefy revolver (Overture) or Johnny’s Malorian. Long range, a sniper rifle.

combat style [stealth/melee/brute force/etc] Depending on the environment, it’s either stealth with a silenced pistol and lots of quickhacks, a John Wick style headshots-galore shootout, or sniping from a distance

primary stats [ex: intellect] Intelligence and Reflexes

biggest weakness in combat: She sometimes forgets to watch her back, and tends to ignore injuries and see the fight through when retreating would probably be the best course of action

threaten or charm? Depends on the target, she’s great at both

lethal or non-lethal? For corpos, the more malicious gangs (Tygers, Animals, 6th Street), or anyone who has hurt innocents, full lethal. If she’s just infiltrating a warehouse full of workers, non-lethal

leave quietly or send a message? She sends a message WHILE leaving quietly

strategy or improvise? Improvise

— APPEARANCE

hair style and color [is it natural? do they change it a lot?] She has synthhair so she can change the style and color at will (I have no idea if that’s how it actually works but I say it is) but she usually sticks to come kind of short sideshave/undercut in some shade of blue.

eye color: Natural eye color is green, but she usually has black scleras with a red circle

height: I had her at 5’8 until yesterday when I realized ya know what, I want a tall girl. So she’s 6 feet.

describe their body type: Skinny, small tiddies, but still fairly curvy

describe their style: Dark colors, leather jackets, lots of boots (also Johnny’s tank top and aviators)

do they wear makeup? Very smudgey eyeliner. Her upper lip is tattooed black and she usually leaves the bottom one bare

tattoos? any significant ones? Lots of tattoos that I haven’t figured out yet, except fir a modified version of the Valentinos neck tattoo, the V being to honor her brother Ven (she took on the name V to honor him too)

scars? Random ones here and there from random gunshots, stabbings, and other work-related injuries

piercings? A bunch that I can’t remember off the top of my head

cybernetics? Gorilla arms, the charge jump ankle ones, eventually she gets synth lungs as a preventative measure cause of the whole smoking thing

— FAVORITES

favorite place in night city: The streets of Heywood because they’re home to her, despite all the awful memories growing up. After Johnny comes along, she starts to like high places, and she loves to hang out on the patio outside Kerry’s house

favorite tv show and/or movie: She loves horror movies, except ghost one cause she doesn’t believe in ghosts so she just finds them dumb

favorite vehicle. do they prefer cars or motorcycles? Vastly prefers motorcycles, she hasn’t really driven a car much since she was a teenager. Her favorite is Jackie’s Arch.

favorite food: She sees food solely as a source of fuel, she will eat whatever is easiest

favorite drink: Tequila

favorite song: Black Dog :3

favorite type of weather: She LOVES the rain (but the water kind, not the acid kind)

favorite radio station: Vexelstrom, and then Morro Rock cause Samurai :3

favorite pastime: Working out, shooting ranges, Jackie and Vik got her into occasional boxing

— RELATIONSHIPS

what are their parents like? what kind of relationship do they have with your character? She had no memory of her parents and assumes they’re both dead

do they have any other family members? what kind of relationship do they have? She has a “brother”, who she knew only as Vendetta (or V). He found her on the streets and took her in when she was 10, and raised her from then on until he “died” 12 years later. Their relationship was great, despite the fact that he was not a very nice person to everyone else but her. 

who is their closest friend? Of course Jackie, and then Kerry (and Johnny ofc)

who are their other friends if they have them? Nope! :D

what are their exes like? any significant ones? She’s never really had a serious relationship, mostly just flings and acquaintances-with-benefits

are they in a relationship? with who and how is it going? Johnny! And it’s uh. Well, ya know.

who are their enemies? She has a passionate hatred for whichever corpo makes cyberpsychosis medication, and for Max Tac cause she sees them as responsible for the loss of her brother. And of course Arasaka.

have they ever lost anyone important to them? Her brother, Jackie, Johnny

would they betray their own morals for their loved ones? Abso-fucking-lutely

have they ever sacrificed something for someone they care about? if so, what? In one of my two canons for her, she gives Johnny her body

— BACKGROUND

where did they grow up in night city? if not from night city, where are they from? The streets of Heywood, then in a shitty apartment in Heywood

how would you describe their childhood? Miserable

were they well-off, poor or somewhere in between when growing up? After Ven took her in, they did have an apartment but because he needed monthly baloperidol (cyberpsycho meds) injections, they were quite poor

what kind of education did they receive? The only real education she ever got was “how to shoot a gun”

what is the biggest lesson they learned growing up? Everything and everyone in the world is going to try its best to destroy you. Destroy it first.

what is their happiest memory? A few weeks after Ven took her in and and it finally hit her, this was real, she had a home, someone that cared for her, and she never had to go hungry again,

what is their most painful memory? Watching her brother, in the middle of a psychotic break, being gunned down. After that it would be saying goodbye to Johnny (in the canon where that happens)

have they kept any meaningful mementos from their past? One of the revolvers she owns was given to her by her brother, and all of her piercings and a couple of her tattoos were done by him so they’re mementos, in a way

is there anything they would change about their past? She would do anything to save her brother.

[the-omni-princess]

Blood Bound [Chapter Seven]

Author: @the-omni-princess​

Pairing: Vampire!Bucky x Witch!Reader

Summary: Vampires and witches have been known enemies since the dark ages. Backstabbing, secrets, and magic turned supernatural brethren again each other. As a natural-born witch, you grew up on these stories, your own monsters under your bed. What happens when one of those sworn enemies claims that you are his blood mate, the vampire equivalent of a true mate? Will you give in to this man out of time? Or destroy him for the sake of your Coven?

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: smut! (18+ only), blood kink (?kinda? lol he’s a vampire so), fluff, nightmares, cursing, flashbacks, Bucky being adorable, a hint of dom!Bucky and Praise kink, let me know if I missed anything

A/N:

For a <18 version/summary, please message me and I got you.

Finals are killing me so rip, I’ll be working on writing challenges/Secret Santas (lol I’m in multiple) first then the next chapter of this series (on the bright side, guess who’s writing a Stucky one shot :D )

-

[Series Masterlist]  [My Masterlist] [Playlist Inspired by the Series]

-

----

Previously….

“Hey, Bucky?” You whispered softly.

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me again.” He obliged, closing the distance to kiss you again. He was the one to deepen the kiss first, gentle yet dominating, demanding your full attention. You got lost in his touch, pressed against him as his hand around your waist pulled you tighter against him. “James,” you practically purred against his lips.

He groaned softly, smirking. “I love it when you say my name.” His lips brushed against yours, easily pulling your mouth back on his.

“Then I’ll keep saying it, Angel Eyes,” you murmured, pulling far enough off of him to run a hand through his fluffed up and mused hair. He groaned softly, making you grin as you lightly traced your fingertips against his scalp. “I want to remember, Bucky. Help me remember and I help you remember? All of it? From the beginning? I know a witch from another Coven who can help us.”

He leaned his forehead against yours, lips brushing past yours as he nodded. “All of it, Sweetling. From the beginning. And Theo?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

----

“Hey, Bucky?”

“Yeah, Little Witch?”

“Why’d you jump in front of that silver dagger? It would have like, ya know, hurt Nat, but it would like kill you. Dumb bitch juice much?” You turned to face Bucky, still wrapped in his arms, completely content with just teasing him.

“Don’t come after me with facts, y/n/n, it's not fair.” He groaned, “I just acted, didn’t really stop and think.”

“Also, did my entire coven fuck off because they thought we were gonna bone?”

“Honestly, I was kinda crying because I took too much blood from you, Nat called me a pussy and said your anemic ass passes out easily, paraphrasing here-“

“Obviously.”

“And Nat and Steve, totally have a thing going on btw,” he continued, ignoring your interruption, “Kinda like shared a look and Nat went, ‘Alright, well, coven’s gonna just move this party outta here, give these kiddos some space,’ and that’s when I noticed you killed that Council Member, which is incredibly hot honestly, and like woah you’re hot, sorry sidetracked.”

“Keep boosting my ego and you might get more kisses out of it,” you bopped his nose, grinning playfully as he snapped his fangs towards it, making you yelp and burst into a fit of giggles.

He happily buried his face in your neck, holding you close, “My powerful and adorable witch,” he murmured.

“My brooding and dark and mysterious but actually a big goofball vampire,” you retorted, grinning when he pulled back to give you a look. “What? It’s completely true.”

You shrugged, grabbing your phone off the nightstand to shoot Nat a text. The Coven group chat was already lit up with messages, mostly them talking behind Sam and Steve’s back about the vampires, and planning their next move, and of course, the obligatory ‘making fun of the couple for their sex-scapades’ messages.

Bucky read most of the messages over your shoulder, not wanting to let you go so easily. “How many eggplant emojis can Wanda text before her fingers hurt?”

“Don’t let her hear that, or you’ll find eggplants everywhere. I made that mistake with the donut emoji,” you leaned your head against his shoulder, shooting a gif of a girl rolling her eyes.

“Did that picture just move?” Bucky whispered behind you.

“Do you not know what gifs are?”

“Phones are too easy to track; we usually use burner phones. Call and simple texts only.” He explained, much to your amusement.

“Allow me to teach you, oldie,” you teased, spending the next hour showing him the world of social media. His little grin and wide eyes sent your heart fluttering, and you silently prayed he didn’t hear it.

Soon, you yawned, your eyes threatening to close as sleep started to pull you in. Bucky simply tightened his arms around you, tucking you both underneath the covers of the bed. “Sleep, Sweetling. I’ll be here when you wake up,” he kissed your head tenderly, causing you to smile tiredly.

“Promise?” You spoke mid-yawn, letting Bucky place your phone back on the nightstand.

“Promise. And then we’ll talk about everything that happened. You deserve to rest.” You didn’t reply, only burying your face into his chest, elated to drink in his scent, the warm vanilla, and mint overtaking your senses. Spending so much time around him lately, you no longer minded the faint scent of copper blood mixed into his scent, but now you noticed something else. Tones of earthy traces, sparks of flame, and salt from the sea. He was starting to smell like a witch too. That last thought had you smiling goofily as sleep overtook you and your mind plunged into darkness.

-

Warm hands. Big, dragging, gentle, soft. Light kisses below your ear. Whispers of love. A murmur of “Sweetling.” Contentment. Sated. But this time the memory didn’t flee, it continued. Light kisses became heated, hands pressed against each other, fingers brushing alongside a soft fur blanket. Gasping breaths, nerves lit up on fire. Bits and pieces like a puzzle pulling together to make the final picture.

“Come on, James! It’s the summer solstice and a full moon, and you are taking positively forever!” Your voice cried out, tugging a warm hand with you, your other arm carrying a woven basket filled with candles and blankets.

Pale moonlight illuminating the grassy meadow as you let go of his hand, placing the fur blankets down before lining the stones, crystals, and candles in a circle. “I do not think the moon will climb any faster than it does every year, Theodosia,” Bucky stood there, his hair an inch longer than you remembered, grinning as he helped make the circle comfortable.

“Still! I want this to be perfect,” you whispered, sighing softly as you stood in the middle of the circle. Alone with only your lover in the wilderness, unafraid to be who you really were. At peace. Excited.

You pulled on the string of your cloak, tugging it off until you tossed it out of the circle entirely, bare as you sat on the furs. Looking up at Bucky, you smiled, “Will you be joining me, or staring the entire time?”

He simply smirked, “I would not mind watching, I must admit.”

“Oh nonsense, hurry yourself or I will send you back home,” you teased, ignoring the blush threatening to creep onto your face.

“I am moving, do not worry, Little Witch,” he chuckled, pulling off his own cloak and tossing it out of the circle before lying beside you.

Without a word you threw your leg on the other side of his hips, easily finding your way above him, straddling his hips. “Why hello there, My Love,” you smiled warmly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Hello there, Sweetling,” his hands gripped your hips, the electricity pulsing from your body didn’t affect him, simply surrounding you both as the winds started to pick up. Light kisses became needier, heated. “I’m yours,” he pledged in a soft voice.

“And I’m yours. Forever, mo chridhe,” You smiled warmly, his eyebrows furrowing as he pulled you close to kiss again. Your hands ran through his hair, moaning softly as he nipped at your bottom lip. Electric pulsing came from a source that was not your powers, euphoria as flashes of other memories swept along like a coursing river.

-      

Picking flowers in a meadow, laying amongst the lavender.

-

Lying beside a fire, warm hands around your body, pulling you closer by your hips.

-

Handmaking candles in preparation for the winters, lining your coats with furs, placing new fur blankets on the bed.

Your back arching, fingers gripping those same furs as you cried out.

-

Murmurs of spells and enchantments, healings.

-

Whispers with sour tones behind your back. Witch. Devil’s Spawn.

-

As quickly as the wave of memories turned changed, they quickly turned back to icy blue eyes. Eyes and arms that pulled you in, kissed your head and lips that said they loved you. James. Bucky.

“This isn’t real, Little Witch,” He gently cupped your face in his hands. “This isn’t real, it’s time to go,” He whispered.

“I don’t want to go again, James. I don’t want to lose you again,” you murmured, closing your eyes as you leaned against his hands.

“Don’t you remember, Theo? You found me again, I won’t let you get away that easy.” Your eyes fluttered open, deep blue ice pulling you back into the bright room. You noticed it was an older room, seemingly of a log cabin. You’ve been here before, but you couldn’t quite remember when. “I’m never letting you go again.”

“I thought you said it was time to go?” You looked back at him, nuzzling deeper into his warm arms. Something about that seemed wrong.

He smiled warmly, tilting your chin up to look at him, affection burning in his eyes, “It is, but I’ll be right there when you open your eyes. I’ll be your anchor in the light, you’ve always been the Good Witch, now it’s my turn to guide you to light magic. We’ll go together.”

“Promise?” Your voice showed exactly how terrified you were.

“Promise, Sweetling.” He smiled, kissing your temple affectionately, “You won’t be alone. Now, wake up.”

--

You gasped awake, eyes wide, shaking. Bucky was sitting up above you, wide eyes and trying to calm you. His mouth was moving, and you absentmindedly felt his hands gently holding your face. Your senses seemed to flood you at once, the bile rising in your throat, terror filling your body as Bucky’s words finally registered in your brain.

“There you go, baby girl, breathe with me. In, out, just like that,” following his words your trembling soon stopped, and you let your eyes close, trusting in the man in front of you. Sighing softly, he pressed his thumbs against your cheeks, and you were surprised to find that it came back wet. You were crying. God, you felt kinda pathetic but being in his arms made you feel safe. “You alright now?” He asked softly, your only response being a small nod. You couldn’t even remember why you were crying.

You moved closer, leaning against him on the bed again. “The memories… They’re coming faster than I can stop them.”

“What did you see?” His voice was soft, still cradling you close, not willing to let you go so easily.

“Doesn’t matter too much,” you mumbled, hoping he didn’t notice you blushing as you recalled the moonlit ritual with him.

“Does it? Or are you too embarrassed to say it?” He teased, tilting your head up to look at him, you were curled up in his arms, both of your arms secure against your chest.

“Rituals in the light of the full moon,” you swallowed thickly, steeling your courage. “Using sex magic for bigger spells,” you murmured.

His cheeks flushed pink but kept on grinning, clearly enjoying your shyness. “Is that it, Little Witch?”

“Mostly flashes of random moments,” You paused, becoming more serious, “I hate how none of them connect, it’s all a bunch of random pieces of string in a cobweb…”

“Or a really fucked up jigsaw.” He gently laid you back down across the soft blankets, laying beside you. “I understand that more than you think.”

You moved closer, gently rubbing your nose against his, allowing your eyes to close as you pressed a kiss to his head, letting his head rest at the top of your sternum. “I want to remember you, all of you. You’ve always been there, in the back of my head for years and I haven’t even noticed. You’ve always been a part of me,” you gulped faintly as his nose pressed lightly against your collarbone, grazing past the skin there, lips dotting small kisses along the exposed flesh above your mint charm necklace.

“I used to wonder why I was obsessed with honey. Sam used to tease me that there was no pleasing me,” he continued pressing kisses up your skin, “No matter what honey I tried, I never liked it, it was never right. Now I know it’s because,” he paused at your pulse point, teasingly licking up the thin cords of your neck that shielded your arteries from exposure. The attention made you keen, a faint whimper escaping your lips; one you instantly regretted as you felt his responding smirk against your skin. “Your scent is the honey I was missing. My mate’s scent,” he murmured, placing a possessive kiss just below your ear.

“Mate?” you whispered, the question at the forefront of your mind promptly evaporating the second he started to suck gently on your pulse point, fangs brushing against the skin without breaking it.

“Mine,” his voice was at a near growl, which sent a warm spark directly to your core.

“Make me remember, mo chridhe,” you weren’t quite sure where that phrase kept coming from, an underlining need to say it, but you decided not to question it. “Please-“ your pleas died off with a small breathy moan as his kisses moved up just far enough to suck a line of hickeys right under your jaw.

“Gladly, Sweetlin’ I’d do anything for ya,” as his voice got huskier, his accent started to slip in. He rolled a bit of his weight onto you, moving his lips higher again to claim yours. He was dominating, just a level below overwhelming; too much without being too much.

As your lips are being kissed, very thoroughly mind you, his hands start to push up your shirt, a random button down you happened to have on a chair earlier and Nat must have put on you while you were passed out. Must have had blood on the other shirt.

Your skin was heating up, your hands finding their way onto his body. One hand pressed against his abdomen, nails scratching faintly, enjoying the little groan he would give you in response. The other hand in his thick curls, finding purchase in them as you arched faintly against his touch.

“Bucky?” you murmured, biting your lip as you pressed your forehead against his. “Bite me,” you paused before adding in a soft voice, “Claim me.”

He pulled away, icy blue eyes wide, voice hoarse, “How do you know about vampire claims?” It was a little archaic, but a vampire could claim another nocturnal, and sometimes even humans. It wasn’t painful per se, but it would be for life.

“When I was doing research into vampires, I read it in one of the older texts.” You whispered, suddenly nervous. “Y-you don’t have-“

“No, no, Sweetling,” his hands pulled away from your hips, tenderly holding your face in his palms. “I just want you to be sure. Being Bound to each other is one thing, we cannot control that, but Claiming? It’d be forever, no one would come near you,” his thumbs gently rubbed circles into your cheeks, eyes watching your response carefully.

“I know… I’m yours, remember? Forever,” you placed your hands on top of his, pressing a soft kiss against his fingertips.

His face softened, his thumb running along the seam of your lips, his eyes glancing down before focusing on your eyes again. “And I am yours,” he agreed, smiling faintly. “I remember…. Are you sure you want this, Little Witch? You don’t have to let the past define you - define us.”

“I’m sure. The past isn’t making this decision for me, Bucky. Our past brought me to you, but I fell in love with this version of you. I love every form and every part of James Buchanan Barnes.”

“God, I love you,” he confessed before pushing forward and kissing you. Desperate as he kissed you deeper, demanding in his ministrations. You pushed his hands back onto your hips, your own hands quickly finding their way back to his hair, tugging him closer as you moaned softly against his lips. He groaned softly, his hand gripping your thigh and pulling it over his waist.

Lips breaking apart for breath, voice hoarse and gasping pleas. He simply smirked in response, your hands moving past his shoulders to tug his shirt up. He pulled away, sitting up, chuckling as you whimpered softly from the loss. “Patience, baby,” he teased, pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside. You blinked a few times, your brain connecting to your body again before pulling your own shirt off, looking up at him shyly. He ran his hands down your sides, before tugging your hips closer to where he was kneeling on the bed. “If you want to stop, just say the word,” he leaned over you, foreheads pressed together as he kissed you again, this time softer, with more reverence.

“I want this, I want you. Don’t stop, Angel Eyes,” you murmured against his lips, eyes fluttering closed with a small moan as his hands ran up against your inner thighs, pushing them apart.

“Gladly, Sweetlin’” his touch was teasing, but his hand soon moved right over your throbbing core, making you gasp softly. He dragged your shorts and panties off with one tug, throwing them aside hastily before his fingers returned to your folds, teasing as he spread your slick around. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?”

He pressed harder against your clit, rubbing small circles there making you cry out. “Ye-yes! All… all for you,” your hips jerked against his hand, choking out a moan as the pleasure started to electrify every nerve in your body.

“Is that right? How bad do you want me, Little Witch?” You whimpered softly, your mind swirling, unable to fully formulate a response. Your hand gripped his wrist, writhing under his touch as his hands started to tease your entrance. “Answer me, baby,” he warned against your ear, thoroughly enjoying your squirming. He kissed down your neck, taking his time teasing your skin with his teeth. Your hands quickly gripped onto your comforter, toes curling as he kitten licked your nipple, lips attaching to it before sucking harshly.

“So- ah! So bad!” You cried out, breathy moans escaping your lips as he slid two fingers into you.

He pumped them in and out slowly before curling them against your walls, smirking against the skin of your collarbone as you practically wept. “There it is,” he marveled, soon pumping his fingers faster against that spot, his thumb rubbing circles into your bundle of nerves as he sped up.

The knot in your stomach tightened, your heart fluttering as you neared your edge. “Please, James. Please,” you practically begged, not noticing his smirk as he watched you squirm for him, his free hand pressed against your stomach to keep your hips from moving.

“That’s it, Sweetlin’, let go, I’ve got you,” his hand pushed your hips down as you arched against him, the show of strength adding to the building ecstasy. The knot snapped, sending you into euphoria as you moaned his name. Electricity ran up your spine and down your arms, gripping onto him as little sparks surrounded you.

He watched you in awe, slowing his hand once you squirmed away from his hand from the overstimulation. He chuckled, pulling away from you as your eyes opened. You groaned, the first sight you saw being him sucking his fingers clean. You tried catching your breath, pushing off of your elbows to sit up, grabbing onto his jeans and pulling him close with it, attacking him in a heated kiss.

Your hands immediately went to the button of the jeans, practically ripping it off as you unzipped them. “Off. Now,” you gasped against his lips. He nodded, obliging as he pushed his knees up off the bed to stand, scrambling out his jeans and boxers. You bit your lip, smirking as you watched him trip over himself. He froze, unsure if he should continue, giving you the ‘deer in headlights’ look. You sat up on your knees, pulling him closer and using his surprise to push him down onto the bed, putting yourself on top of him. “Need you now, babe,” you murmured. Straddling his hips, you kissed him deeply as he lined himself up.

Slowly lowing yourself down onto him, you moaned, feeling the stretch of his length. He wasn’t small by any means, so you slowed down, whimpering softly as your hips met his, his length fully seated in you. “F-fuck, you feel so good,” he mumbled, his hands gripping onto your hips. You preened at the praise, taking a moment with him bottomed out, adjusting to his thick length.

“So do you,” you lean your forehead against his, pressing kisses across his face as you softly rock your hips. You moved slowly, lacing your hand in the hair at the nape of his neck, your other hand gripping onto his shoulder as you raised your hips a little faster. You dug your nails into the thick cords of his muscles, moaning as you moved. His hips bucked up against yours, making you basically mewl out, “Fuck.” You whimpered, your eyes closing as he fixed his stance, continuing to meet your hips thrust for thrust as you rode him. “Couldn’t just let me be in control, huh?” you teased, circling your hips against his.

He chuckled, gripping your hips to still you. “Bold of you to assume you’re in charge here,” your eyes opened in slight surprise, a chill going up your spine as you realized his eyes were a mix of his witch and vampire sides, red with a golden ring around them. He took charge, slamming his hips up, making you yelp as the pleasure spread at the rough display, both arms around his neck holding on for dear life. You most definitely didn’t mind this side of him. “You take me so well, such a good girl,” the praise sends your head spinning, a fact he locked away in his head for later. “Fuck, Sweetling,” He groans loudly as he grips you tighter, using the angle to pound up into you.

“Fuck, ple-please,” your voice died off as he continued, in total control of your pleasure. One hand was wrapped around your waist, keeping you steady as he moved harder, his length pressing against sensitive nerve endings you didn’t even know existed. His other hand slid between your bodies, roughly circling your clit, making your body seize up, clenching around him.

“Cum for me, Sweetling,” his voice was husky, lips pressed below your ear, “Then I’ll Claim you,” he promised, his own moan cutting his voice off.

You could only reply in breathless whimpers and mewls, brutal yet beautiful bliss overwhelming your body as the familiar knot in your stomach snapped again. He licked right over your pulse point, his hips stuttering a bit as he praised you, “That’s it,” he practically snarled against your skin.

Just as the pleasure started to die down, you felt his fangs brush against your skin. You relaxed in his arms, perfectly boneless. “Come on, Bucky. Cum for me,” you nuzzled your nose under his ear, “Please,” you groaned quietly, one hand tugging lightly on his hair.

His growled softly, fangs bared before they sunk into your lifeline just as he came hard. You cried out, the bite sent euphoric sparks down your neck and spine, pooling at your core and lighting up your brain which sent you gasping and crying out into another orgasm. It was completely different from the last time Bucky fed on you.

Just like that, you felt something snap inside of you, the hole you felt in your chest all your life shifted, filling. The yearning gone, filled instead with contentment and consuming bliss. You could feel and hear Bucky whimper against your neck as he pulled away, hips slowing until they stilled. He still held you close, gently licking the mark on your neck, cleaning off your blood as the wound closed while you mewled softly.

You both just held onto each other, catching your breath, gladly pressed into each other. “Did you feel that too?” You whispered once your breathing became normal again.

He pulled away slowly, a small sheen of sweat on his skin but he was grinning at you. “I did… I think my vampire side is a little happy I claimed you,” he teased.

You blushed but couldn’t help your little smile. “I concur,” you joked, kissing him softly. The heat and passion from earlier dwindling down, both of you sated. He held onto your hips, turning and laying you both down on the bed again, holding you close, unwilling to let you go just yet. “Ya know, we didn’t get much talking done.”

His eyes lit up as he laughed, grinning as he kissed your temple. “I don’t think your Coven will mind much. Now rest, Sweetling,” he pushed a curl of hair behind your ear, tenderly holding you. Your legs curled between his, your body tucked into his broad chest, letting his scent mixed with the smell of sex surround you.

“You too, mo chridhe,” you smiled warmly, holding yourself close together as you let sleep take both of you into the depths of darkness.

---

mo chridhe means My Heart in Scots Gaelic

---

Tags:

Permanent Tags:

@minetticatinwonderland​  / @lumar014​ / @maniacproffesor​ / @gollyderek​ / @nerdy-bookworm-1998​ / @avengerstones​ / @momc95​ / @loving-life-my-way​ / @agentpeggybarnes​ / @marvelmaree​ / @thefridgeismybestie​ / @miraclesoflove / @hello-fanfiction-goodbye-grades  

Bucky Tags:

@cassandras-musings​  / @darkness-doughter​ / @novaddictx​​ / @thedancingnerdmermaid​ / @mood-pancakes​ / @gracethegeek9902​ / @ravennightingaleandavatempus​ / @sunkissedbarnes​​ / @annavega333​ / @im-not-an-armrest-im-short​

Blood Bound Tags:

@itz-kira​ / @rinthehufflepuff​ / @evilzinblr​ / @starkrobb​​ / @paranoiadestroyah​ / @misplacedorphan​ / @ladysergeantbarnes​ / @gobemywonderwall​ / @yallneedtrek​ / @momobaby227 / @what-is-your-plan-today

For a tag, just reply/comment, if I don’t see it, just message me. Tell me what you think! Literally, any comment makes me happy! Like, comment, reblog, interact <3

[thanx-idonttry]

Bakugou's Rut (ALPHA!BAKUGOU X READER)

This was my first time trying to write in Omegaverse. I hope I did right. Plus I wrote this when I was.... In the mood lol. @cherrykwrites inspired me because she turned me into a Baku-Slut. Lol THANK YOU FOR TURNING ME INTO A BAKUHOE!!!

Word Count: A lot? Lol

Warnings: SMUT, ROUGH SMUT! Smidge of Fluff. Praise Kink.

______

The Rut of Katsuki Bakugou is something to be feared. He and and everyone around him knew it was coming. He was grumpier, yelled louder, and merciless to his enemies. So when it finally did hit, He decided to stay indoors. It's definitely safer for the world if he's in the house.

Bakugou was aggressively working out in his personal Gym, trying to work off some of his aggression. His phone started to ring, it saw it was (Y/N) and answered instantly. He heard noise in the background, "Where are you?" He growled, he didn't mean to, but his Alpha was going crazy "Kirishima invited me to his house for Game night, He said he invited you." Right, Kirishima does do dumb shit like this, he also forgot he was invited.

No doubt Kaminari and Mineta was there, probably mind fucking you as we speak. That tiny, Grapefruit, Omega, Bastard will fucking die if he got within 5 feet of her. He knows they smell His scent on you, Seen your Claimed mark, but knowing Mineta, that won't stop him from trying. He wanted you gone from the party ASAP.

"I'm not coming, you shouldn't be there either. Come over."

The Alpha in Bakugou was pissed, Kirishima is another Alpha, and the thought of him being around his Omega made Bakugou's Quirk kinda go off. Little explosions came from his hand, before he made it stop. "Is everything alright?" You asked "everything is fine, I just need you to come over."

You can hear the Jealously laced in his voice. "Okay, let me just get my things and I'll drive to you." "Hurry." He added before you hung up, this was getting bad. She better make it here fast, He had an urge to blow up anything right now. At that moment, Bakugou's phone exploded in his hands.

"Fuuuck!"

---

You, and Kirishima stepped out the car in front of Katsuki Bakugou's Apartment. They could smell Bakugou's Rut from outside the building. He is a powerful Alpha, so of course his Ruts are equally or more Powerful. Glass from a window from the top floor exploded and shattered. Kirishima looked nervous.

You wasn't surprised that it was from Bakugou's place. "Katsuki..." You sighed. You never seen Bakugou's during his Ruts, no one has. Kirishima only tagged along for two reasons, to make sure nothing happened to You, and to check on Bakugou. Kirishima thought that Bakugou was just blowing them off, you know, Typical Bakugou. But now that he could smell the Rut, He understood.

They, especially You, was cautious every step that brought them closer to Bakugou's doorstep, the intense smell of Burnt Sugar only getting heavier when you guys reached the top floor. Slowly ya'll walked down the hall to his apartment, little did you know, Bakugou knew you arrived. He could smell your Lilac scent when you stepped out of the elevator.

He was happy, but only for a second. The smell of sandalwood hit his nose. Before he knew it, he was growling like a bear. "Kirishima..." Bakugou opened the door right at the time you were about was about to knock, and he was still growling. "Uh oh." Kirishima said when his Rutting Best friend answered the door.

"Get away from her!" he growled before pulling You into his sweaty chest. "Katsuki, he was just making sure--" "I don't care! Go away!" Kirishima was scared, but he understood. Bakugou didn't want to come off as so harsh, but his Alpha hated that Kirishima was so close to you. Kirishima honestly thought Bakugou was going to blow his head off for being with you. He didn't consider his Rut, Kirishima know how a rut can make an Alpha.

"I didn't touch her." Kirishima simply said.

Before Bakugou slammed the door in Kirishima's face, he saw the state of Bakugou's apartment. You looked around with wide eyes, his place was in shambles. Holes in the walls from both fists and his Quirk, furniture half blown up, and not to mention the windows. "Katsuki, what the fuck?"

Bakugou didn't answer, he was behind you, smelling for other scents. When he didn't smell any other scents other than his and yours, he wrapped his arms around you and held you tight. He buried his face in the crane of your neck, inhaling your Lilac scent. "Fuck that shit, I can replace it." "But why? Katsuki, what made you do this?" Bakugou picked you up and carried you to the bedroom.

He threw you on the bed, then took off his shirt. You couldn't help but gaze at his chiseled, God-Like chest. "You asked, what made me do this?" He pinned you down. "The thought of another man being near you..." He growled before nibbling on your ear, you gasped as your back arched from the feelings shooting through your body.

He put both your wrists in one of his hands while the other roamed under your shirt. "Another man touching you like I'm doing now." He gripped your left boob while he viciously attacked her neck, breathing in your scent was addicting for him. He pulled your bra down a bit, and rubbed his thumb over your nipple, teasingly. "Who is the only man that can please you?" He growled.

"You're are, Katsuki." You moaned. Music to his ears, "That's it Omega, I'm the one." You maybe an Omega, but you have knowledge of Alphas, and their Ruts. It can bring out insecurities, and Bakugou is a proud man. Being around other guys, without him, must've really bothered him.

You figured that Bakugou must feel like he's never enough, which makes sense on why he aims to be the best. He's not the #1 hero, but he is the #1 Alpha, and believe it or not, that's huge. Omegas everywhere dream of having a Alpha like him, someone who's strong and fearless. Not only that, Katsuki Bakugou is a great provider and lover.

"Alpha." You called to him.

His eyes met yours, you stared deeply into his eyes. "I will never love anybody as much as I love you." Bakugou stopped everything he was doing, he just stared at you. He was in a state of shock from your words, not expecting that at all. But, he's glad you said that.

For the first time, Bakugou showed soft affection. He kissed her softly, it made (Y/N) heart flip and flutter. But it was short lived, as Bakugou's kiss soon got heated. He pulled off your shirt, placed his hands on your hips, and let his fingers dance on your exposed skin. (Y/N) decided to the same, it was like a competition on who can feel who up more.

His hands then hooked onto your jeggings before pulling them swiftly down, leaving you in her bra and underwear. He got on his knees, threw your legs over his shoulder, and stared up at you with a new look in his Red Eyes. A blush crept up on your face, Bakugou just bit his lip and pulled your panties to the side. He levelled his face to your heat, and smirked. "Kats-OH!” Your hands flew up to his hair, Gripping it.

Bakugou had a firm grip on your waist, and that moan did nothing but made Bakugou pull you closer. Your moans only getting louder, Bakugou have never did anything like this. He was surprisingly good, You wondered where did he learn this? Have he always known? Your thighs clenched around his head before Bakugou hands gripped them.

He started getting aggressive, Slowly pushing your thighs back, pushing you on her back, giving him complete access to your pussy. Your legs spread wide in the air, tongue deep in you, just devouring you. You were breaking, sanity slipping away. Your mistake was looking down, and catching his eyes.

His eyes was locked on yours, your face, your facial expressions, the way you looked while he dominated you. (Y/N) Thought he looked like a lion, basking in his meal like it's his last. He added a satisfied growl as he pulled/suck on your clit softly. She completely lost it, letting the Omega in you gave yourself to your Alpha instantly.

He pulled away, face glistening from (Y/N)'s juices, he licked his lips to taste you. "Fuck." He purred "You taste so fucking amazing." Then he flipped you over, putting you on all fours. He stood up, gazing at your exposed, wet, heat. His dick couldn't help but twitch, God, he just wanted to be inside you. But, he feels a difference this time, he wanted his Omega to be pleased, and begging for more.

"Alpha..." You moaned softly

"Shhhh...." He smirked mischievously.

"Your Alpha is make sure you're well taken care of." He purred as he levelled himself again to your Heat. Then he went back to eating you out, this time, adding fingers. (Y/N) moaned, lowering you upper body, leaving your ass in the air. You gripped the sheets as your were calling out his name. Bakugou stopped eating, now just fingering you, letting his fingers dance inside you.

"FUCK YES!"

"KATSUKI, OH MY GOSH!"

"YOU'RE THE BEST ALPHA IN THE WORLD!"

All that from just fingers? It was enough to fuel his Alpha. His classic Brovado is boasted 10x, "You like when I do this?" He purred "Yes, Yes I do My Alpha!" "You're so fucking wet, Has any man made you like this?" He was still smirking and sliding his fingers in and out of you. You were still: Face down, Ass up, and gripping his sheets.

"No!"

"Is All this for me?"

"YES!

"Are you ready for me to fuck you?"

"Yes Alpha! Please!"

"C'mere." He demanded.

He undid his pants and pulled them down, his dick popped out, fully erect and already leaking a lot of pre cum. You were in front of him, on all fours, face-to-face with his dick. Just looking at the sight gave Bakugou chills, his thumb slowly grazed the bottom of your lip before he stuck his thumb in your mouth.

"Open." He simply commands, Your mouth open, tongue sticking out like a dirty, thirsty little slut. He groaned, throwing his head back, and rubbing/gripping your hair. Just when he thought it couldn't get better, you proved him wrong. He gripped his Dick, and slid it against your tongue, he shuddered before shoving his dick in your mouth.

He held the back of your head to keep you in place. "That's right, suck it." He groans "Good little Omega." He praised, only making (Y/N) wetter. He pulled out your mouth, giving you air to breath. Then he shoved it back in your mouth, this time, you started playing with your pussy. You were moaning around him, the vibrations of your moans, sending stimulation through his body. You pulled your fingers away from your pussy, trying to grip his waist, but he caught the hand in mid air, looking at your mess.

"Fuck (Y/N), you're so fucking soaked." (Y/N) couldn't reply, at least not with a full mouth. He pulled you away by the hair, then motioned you to turn around by circling his finger. When you did so, he knew you were fully submissive. He couldn't fight it back anymore, his Alpha instincts in full control. No warning, he slid into you, not so slowly.

You screamed loudly, Bakugou gripped your hips, but not before slapping your right ass cheek. His strokes were hard, deep, he went in fast, pulled out slowly. He pulled you back on to him, getting deeper and adjusting himself, all that did was made (Y/N) walls clench around his length, while moaning loudly.

Bakugou moaned, he looked down a pon his Omega, he thinks you look perfect in this position. That damn smirk reappeared.

Brovado level is on 1,000

"Scream my name, Take this Dick." He thrusted into you, he leaned down do he was closer to your ear before gripping a handful of hair. "Tell me no body fucks you Like I can" His voice was low, deep. It almost drove (Y/N) to your edge. You've never been so lewd with anyone, and here is Katsuki Bakugou, your Alpha, making your vision blurred.

Still close to your ear, one of his hands left your hips, and started to massage your swollen clit. High pitched moans filled the room along with the smell of: sex, burnt sugar, and lilac. Bakugou pushed some of your hair to the side to expose your neck, right before he bit down on it. He bit and licked your claiming mark, which is basically the Most sensitive spot on your body. He dug deeper into you

"Scream my name." He Demanded, then added a hard thrust.

"KATSUKI!!"

"Again." Thrust.

"KATSUKI!!!" Yout pitch was a bit higher.

"Who Is your Alpha?" Thrust.

"YOU ARE, KATSUKI!!!!"

"You're so fucking beautiful, (Y/N)." He kissed the mark, he relaxed with the deep strokes. He began a steady pace, tongue swirling around the mark, adding soft kisses. He felt that you were close, your walls clenching around him. It drove him closer to the edge as well, the moans, the smells, You. "Are you close Omega?" He asked.

"Very, My Alpha." You replied, your voice was high pitched and breathy. "Cum for your Alpha then." Bakugou thrusted in deep, sat there for a second before digging into you deeper. There is was, (Y/N) saw white as you came. Her whole body stiffened, you've never came so hard in your life. The moment you finished cumming, you collapsed. Bakugou caught You.

"Not yet love, I haven't got mine yet."

He held on to you, you tried to keep your balance for him, but you couldn't. He flipped you over, so you were on your back, and he got the full view of the front half of your body. There was a blush on his face, once he made eye contact with you. Your eyes, peeked through your lowered eyelids, and eyelashes. He thought you looked so amazing right now right here, still taking his dick, even when you're tired. It sent him straight to his edge. He pulled out and came on his Omega's face, feeling like he truly marked what's his.

Bakugou, after taking a few breaths, got up and went to get a towel. He cleaned up your face and kissed you on the lips softly. He looked you dead in the eyes. "I don't think you understand what you've done for me tonight. I fucking appreciate and I... Loveyou." He said quickly then adverted eye contact.

You smile, you know how hard it is for Bakugou to show Appreciation or any type of affection. He's being vulnerable, it's because of his Rut. "I love you too, Katsuki Bakugou. I'll do anything for you. I'm glad to have you as an Alpha." Bakugou's heart flutter, he pulled (Y/N) into his arms, held you tight, and inhaled you scent. You two laid there cuddling, then a nagging question kept bothering Bakugou.

"Was Mineta there?"

"Ugh, of course 'The Grape Pervert ' was there. He tried to pull something, but I turned that little fuck into a Snowman before kicking him far away from me."

(You Have a Snow Quirk)

"That's my Girl." Bakugou cheered proudly as he held (Y/N) tighter. "And sorry If I went too hard on you." "Hey, Omegas are made to Withstand an Alpha's Rut. I'm good, it was honestly the best sex I've ever had."

Bakugou couldn't feel anymore prouder.

[targaryenfamilyorgy]

Mutual Diversion

Chargestep smut. 1k. I think I took out all my dumb notes? Ricardo/Octavia

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Ortega leans in for a kiss. You give him a quick peck and sidestep his attempt at more. You’re here to keep him distracted but that doesn’t mean you have to give in to everything. “I just wanted to stop by.”

“Aw, you wanted to see me. You missed me.” He leans in to kiss you again and you smack him lightly on the lips.

“I resent how you didn’t say that like a question.”

Ignoring his smirk, you walk further into the building, catching his hand as he reaches for you, and let him intertwine your fingers.

By now you don’t need him to lead you around. Not that memorizing floor plans has ever been hard for you. You can drag him along behind you instead of being dragged. You can sway your hips a little bit more than needed and know he’s behind you looking.

(You saunter saunteringly into Ortega’s office. “Wanna fuck?” You ask.)

You’ve learned you’re a temptation Ortega can’t resist. It’s to manipulate him, you keep telling yourself. Keep your enemies closer. Right? Even if it doesn’t fit with how your thoughts linger on him. How you can’t stop remembering how soft his hair had been all those years before when you used to run your fingers through it. It looks just as soft now.

It’s to manipulate him. So you visit him at work, bringing coffee and food and idle conversation.

And kisses.

Like now, you lean back against his desk and look at him through half lidded eyes. Smiling and pretending that this is pretending. When he kisses you, holds you a little too tight a little too right you sink into his arms. You suck his lower lip into your mouth and give it a gentle bite.

More making out

The words you mumble against his lips as he rubs his hand over the front of your jeans aren’t as planned out and calculated against your plans as they should be, more pure feeling bubbling up out of your lips and spilling out like acid.

Acid that will eat you up just like -

Best to throw that thought away. Away with thoughts of blood and lies. Focus.

The first time was a slip up. You were so starved and couldn’t think of a reason not to stay on that couch. Now it’s okay though because it’s all an act. A part of your plan. Keep him distracted. Keep him looking at you with lust instead of suspicion.

His teeth nip at your collar, a string of Spanish you can’t really make out when you slide your own hand down to touch him. You can’t help but smile when you feel he’s hard already, it’s a heady mix of pride and lust at knowing you’re the cause. He’s not shy about telling you what to do, what helikes, bringing his own hand in to show you.

It’s stupid how many times you’ve done this. Like you can’t resist any chance to learn more about his body. At least he can’t talk if he’s busy kissing.

You hate how he takes his time, touching every part of your body but never how you really want. The smug look on his face tells you he knows exactly what he’s going. Winding you up and falling to his knees to put his mouth on you. Drawing out a surprised moan.

Bury your hands in his hair as he works his tongue against your clit in slow circles. His hands caressing your thighs. You want more, you need more. You nearly sob when he teases you with a finger. Pressing against you and then pulling away to languidly rub against your folds. You grind your hips against him and try to thrust down on his finger. If you have to fuck yourself on him you will.

He pulls away and kisses up your stomach, laugh tickling your skin when you loudly sigh. You twist your fingers in his hair and pull. He stutters and moans, following your momentum up to kiss you. Lips slick and you can taste yourself.

“Fuck, Ortega, fuck me. Just fuck me already.” You gasp against his lips. Grinding your hips together. The longer this takes the more opportunity for you to say something stupid.

He just laughs into the kiss, moving his hand so you have something better to thrust against, needy and erratic. You should care that he can reduce you to this, but right now any higher thought is slipping away in a haze of pleasure.

Shit. Get yourself together.

You’re Leviathan, you’re in control.

It’s a simple thing to grab him and twist so he’s the one caught against the desk. He grunts at the impact of his lower back against the metal. Not exactly according to plan but oh well.

“Sorry.” You lean in and kiss his chest. Stopping to trace his scars with your tongue. It’d be so easy just to go lower and take him into your mouth. Licking up his chest, you take him in your hand and pump slowly, pausing to bite his nipple and smirk at the sound it earns you.

“Octavia,” he sighs. And you lean in to reclaim his mouth, gently sliding your tongue against his and tickling the roof of his mouth.

He’s putty in your hands. Lost in the feel of your hands and lips. It’s a fight not to lose yourself too.

Bite your lip, focus on the pain.

You know how to tilt your hips to make taking him an exquisite slide. Even at this angle. You know how to rake your nails down his chest and watch red lines rise as you start to rock your hips gently. It’s a little awkward and you’re essentially standing on your toes to make it work.

His hands squeeze and caress your ass. If he doesn’t stop looking in your eyes you’re going to headbutt him.

“It’d be easier to ride you if we could lie down.” You eye his couch. It’s covered in files and boxes, not really enough space for what you want to do.

His fingers trace up your back. “I could get on the floor?”

You laugh. “Your bones are too old for that.”

“Maybe it’s your knees that can’t take,” he pinches your ass, “But that’s not what I’m worried about you taking.” His voice lowers to a husky rasp.

Before you can respond, he grabs the back of your thighs and hoists you up. You’ve barely gotten your arms around his shoulders before he sets you down again, spinning you around by the waist and grinding his hips against your ass.

Your face is pressed into the wall and you don’t think he meant to be that rough because he presses a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. But his hands on your hips aren’t, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. You moan at the thought of him marking you, and you hate that it gets you so hot.

He holds you still as he enters you again, moving with shallow but forceful thrusts that betray his neediness. A string of whispered Spanish accompanied by soft moans. You think you hear your name in there somewhere. Whispered like a prayer.

He’s tugging you back into the movement, and it’s shaking loose a whimper every few thrusts. Shit, he’s not even actively fucking you and it’s doing stupid things to your brain.

One hand against the wall to keep you steady and the other gripping the bookshelf next to you. You grit your teeth and arch back into the next roll of his hips.

The next thrust is harder, the pace faster now, like he was waiting for permission to give you everything he wants to. Make you feel every moment he waited for you.

He tilts his head to drag his tongue against the underside of your jaw. Taking your skin between his teeth and biting, forcing a hoarse and stuttered moan out of you.

He’s rough. Not brutal, always thinking about your pleasure. One hand traveling around to your front to flatten against your clit and he’s slamming into you so hard it sends the bookcase crashing against the wall. You whine, wince, and grab his wrist, your clit fucking hurts it’s so good.

You wanted to be in control, were so sure you would be. The feel of his cock and the slide of his hand taking your breath away. Your surprised to realize the needy moans are coming from you.

Ortega’s hand feels so good right where it is but you grab his wrist and bring his fingers up to your mouth. Dragging your tongue from palm up and swirling your tongue over the tips of his fingers. He groans, pressing his fingers into your mouth, and you let him. Hollowing your cheeks and lavishing your tongue against him. (Wtf am I even talking abt?)

You roll your clit between your fingers. Motions not as smooth as you hoped. Everything ratchets higher, tighter, until your rocking between Ortega’s thrusts and your hand.

“I’m gonna kill you, I’m gonna fucking kill you,” you moan because there’s a tension coiling in your stomach and you’re trying not to beg.

“I love you,” he breathes out over your skin. Kissing it into the flesh of your shoulder. Thrusts going off tempo, shoving you forwards and dragging you back until there’s no choice but to but hold still as he fucks you. The bookshelf you lifeline as your knees turned to jelly long ago.

You’re going to come. Your so fucking close, you want to beg for it, so you bite your lip so hard it bleeds. It doesn’t take long after that, vision going blurry and somehow too sharp, and the buzz in your ears goes deafening.

His name comes out of your mouth, you make sure of it. Terrified of what else you might say in its place. A list of confessions he always seems to drag out of you.

Ortega comes while your still shaking. Grinding close and whispers sweet things into your ear about how beautiful you are, how perfect, how much he loves you.

You don’t respond. Not that you need to bother with replying since Ortega is too far gone, still leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses along your neck as he tries to catch his breath.

When your clothes are back in place you’ll accept his kiss before you leave. Not letting him hold you but not being too obvious you’re running away. You aren’t. It’s simply a retreat. Not even that. Mission accomplished. You distracted him.

You’ll pretend you aren’t distracted too.

[mrneighbourlove]

Into the Darkness and Unknown: Ch 7. The Burden of Knowledge

‘My dear Revan. Are you well? I know you are still learning to read, but I do this for your future. Either you read this when I return, or if something unexpected happens to claim my life. Need not worry. Your father is mighty, but more so, he is careful. Omisha has been a vast and colourful country. The air is hot, and the jungles vast. I think someone with your imagination will come to like it if you ever explore its land yourself. However, to be honest, it is difficult to judge in the present if that is a possibility. The people of this land are opposed to humans, as of now. I hope to change that with time, and I know that it will be your generation who will no longer know of prejudice. I’m sorry I’ve been away for so long, but the work I do is important. It is for your future as well as everyone else. This does not mean I don’t miss you. I hope to be home soon. I love you son.

- Your father Malik.’

~

A month and a half. A whole month and a half Leere and Malik found themselves in Omisha. Due to the attack, and unfortunately only three days into the trip, no communication could be sent to Hyrule due to Mother being paranoid information being intercepted by additional enemies. Bonegrinder needed time to recover, but neither had any idea it would take such a strenuous recovery.

Malik spent his time learning combative history of Omisha, sharing stories of Ganondorf and Link throughout the ages. Leere made herself getting comfortable knowing every villager she could. As a tease, she decided not to have sex with Blue and White’s younger sister, being catty that the doctor could wait. The poor woman couldn’t get Leere alone with her. Currently, she was playing with Solani, climbing up a tree. It seemed that her mother slowly eased up on letting Leere get closer.

“Solani, the secret to climbing tree’s for humans is balance.” The princess was carefully reaching for a piece of fruit near the top. “Steady your feet, reach up, aaaaand... got ya.”

Leere indeed snatched the fruit off the tree, but with a snap under her, the branch she was standing on broke, sending the princess plummeting to the ground. Other branches broke most of her fall, but she still hit the ground hard, having the wind knocked out her, the back of her skull ringing as loud as two brass cymbals smashing loudly in the coffins of her brain.

"SQUAWWWK!!!" Solani rushed over to the princess and looked slightly panicked. "You okay?!" Thanks to a spell that Mother had allowed her children to use, there was easy communication with the two visiting humans. "I told you that I could get it! I have wings! You are bound to fall and fall you did!"

"Why are humans so clumsy?" Sneha, her sister, rolled her eyes. "Trip, fall, repeat."

“Simple my dear girls, I wanted to show you the strength of tiny humans. Ow my fffuuu-reaking head.” Even in a dazed state, the woman was noble enough to not swear around kids. Leere felt the back of her head, frowning at the feel of blood. “Darn it. You kids ever see human blood before? Feels so gooey.”

"Only the ones that tried to kidnap us when we were chicks." Sneha spoke without filter, earning a jab from her sister. "Ow! What?! She asked!"

“I’m sure they got torn up good eh?” Leere cracked a smile, trying to stand. “Oh man. Doc might get her wish to have me alone in her office. Woooo, the earth is spinning.” The princess immediately fell on her ass. Appeared she was losing balance in her legs as much as she was losing balance in her filter. “Don’t suppose one of you wants to get some help while the other stays close?”

"I'll go get Nomusa, I'm faster than you." Sneha took to the sky while Solani waited with Leere. "I'll be sure to tell her that you got hurt being stupid."

"Don't call her stupid!" Solani huffed as her sister flew away. "Just because she hatched two minutes ahead of me, she thinks she knows everything."

Leere felt close enough to pull Solani close enough for an arm around the shoulder. Pretty sure after a month her mother wouldn’t treat her like Prometheus. “Well not stupid, but maybe climbing up the tree without a harness was a little dumb.”

"... well... a little, perhaps so." Solani agreed. "You humans don't have a defense against gravity like we do."

“Oh boy, that’s the truth right there. Lucky I didn’t go splat like a raspberry pie.”

"Next time, please leave the task of picking fruit to me." Solani asked Leere as an afterthought. "Are you going to go check on Bonegrinder today?"

“Yeah. Probably after I get myself checked out.” Leere sighed, giving the girl a half-hearted smile. “If things go well for him, I’ll probably be leaving.”

"Aww, you're not staying? It's been fun learning from you." Solani pouted a little. "Mama said to be careful. But you're not too bad. I think."

“You’re a pretty great kid Solani. But I got a home of my own to go back to. I’m sure my own mama is a bit worried how I’ve been doing all this time.” Leere gave the bird a light ruffle on the head. “How about this? Ask me anything on your mind.”

"It's not good to make your mom worry." Solani had to agree with Leere's reasoning. Her own mother worried enough. So, it was logical that human mother would worry too. "I guess... why aren't you with the other Mortuus? Why aren't you like... a bad guy? Why do you wanna be a good guy? ... I mean girl. Not guy."

“Well, I don’t remember them too much, but my birth parents were bad guys. They escaped to Hyrule with me when I was a young little thing. After being adopted by my new family, I wanted to help people like you Solani. I wanted to use my gifts to save lives, help other people feel safe.” Leere looked to the sun in the sky and smiled. “Maybe there are other good Mortuus, trapped in Malus. Maybe I’m the only one. Regardless, I’m going to do my best living a life where people can look into the shadows and still feel safe.”

"There's been a lot of bad Mortuus..." Solani said quietly, "A lot of bad humans too. Mama wonders if Mother is doing the right thing sometimes. Though, everyone knows that Bonegrinder's visions are never wrong. We have to have a little faith... but it's hard."

Leere silently nodded along to Solani. Maybe it was the dazed head and leaking blood, but the princess asked in an almost worrisome tone, “Do you think I’m a good human?”

"Yeah, I do." Solani nodded. "It's just... hard to think that there are some good ones out there when all we've ever known is bad."

“That’s called hope Solani. And if I can be the start to your list of good humans, that’s honour enough for me.” Leere grinned, giving the girl a light tickle on the stomach to get a laugh before her sister came back. The princess wondered if she really did make a difference to these people. She certainly hoped so. There was so much mistrust, so much secrecy in Omisha she had yet to crack.

Kiume broke the princess’ thoughts when he approached Leere and Solani. "I have news." The father of White and Blue told the princess. "Bonegrinder is awake."

“He is?!” Leere was so excited, that, when she tried to move, she forget her own injuries. She was quick to stumble back onto her but with Solani in hand. “Ow.”

"... Sneha also sent me to tell you to stay out of trees." Kiume then bent his eight legs to lean down to inspect Leere's head.

“I just reopened an old head wound. Not a great big deal.”

"You let me decide what is 'a great big deal' or not." Kiume was not the best healer, but he could mend an open wound. "There... might be a little tender for a few days."

“I’ve been knocked around by worse.”

"Would you like to go see Bonegrinder now? Or fetch Malik first?" Kiume informed the princess. "He's still a little woozy, so he's resting in Mother's nest. Though, she will allow you to see him. As long as he can slither and eat by the end of the day, he should be able to return with the two of you to Hyrule tomorrow."

“I’m sure Malik won’t mind continuing his journal on his own if seeing Bonegrinder doesn’t guarantee our departure. You don’t want to keep me in your care for a while first?”

"I'm quite confident you'll be all right. There's no brain matter leaking from your head." Kiume then arched his eyebrow. "Unless you're referring to the 'other' type of company, which should not be discussed in front of a chick."

"Hey! I'm almost ten! I'm practically grown up." Solani squawked with a huff and puff of her cheeks.

"Sure, sure."

“You’re the one who can’t stop batting those pretty eyes at me.” Leere patted Solani’s head. Her head was still woozy because she didn’t notice the obvious as of yet… “Advice kid. When a boy or girl does that to you, that means they like you. Bonus points if they stutter around you.”

"... boys? Ew." Solani was not exactly at that age where she thought of romance. "Boys are yuck. Why would I want a boy to like me?"

"You keep thinking that until you're about two hundred years old, kid”, the old spider chuckled.

"I'm not a kid!"

“Nomusa? Aren’t you a teenager hopelessly in love yourself?” Leere grinned mischievously towards to who she still believed was the young doctor. “Besides, what is a kid anyway? Who are we to judge? Solani can fly after all. That’s a pretty grown up thing for birds to do.”

"A 'kid' is someone who isn't old enough yet to learn how reproduction takes place."

"How what takes place?"

"See what I mean?"

“Ok. Point proven.” Leere paused when she saw Solani’s mother fly down with her sister. In her current position, she couldn’t exactly hide the fact she had an arm around her daughter getting heart to heart with her. “Oh. Hello there!”

"... it's time for lunch." Solani's mother, Syndia, was not exactly comfortable around humans. It was still taking a bit of getting used to since Mother decreed these two visitors were not to be harmed. She did not like it that her child wanted to hang around a... a Mortuus of all types of humans, but would not dare go against Mother. "Come, you need to eat, and you're still growing feathers."

"Mooooom, five more minutes?"

"No, it's ready now. Come along."

"Aww... okay, I'll see you later, Leere."

“Hey, it was good to hang out. In case we don’t get to say goodbye again before I leave... you’re a good kid. It was awesome to met you.” Leere gave Solani a warm hug. “I’ll be back for more than on visit to Omisha. Now go eat and do as your mother says.”

"Before you walk, I think you require a clear head." Kiume placed his large hand on top of Leere's skull and used his magic to clear her senses. "You have quite a knot there."

Leere waved goodbye before stretching out her limbs. Her head suddenly felt all the clearer. “Thanks, Nomusa. Don’t know what you missed the first time. Maybe I can-!!!” A deep sense of confusion rose up to her chest from her gut. “You’re not Nomusa.”

"... no. I am Kiume. My daughter is Nomusa." The elder healer crossed his arms. "Maybe we should wait until you got a little more clearer head."

“Oh wow. Did I make a move at you in her place?”

"Yes."

“…”

“…”

“…..”

“…..”

Leere took a deep gulp to swallow a sense of embarrassment wanting to crawl out. “Sorry about that. I’ll go see Bonegrinder now. Oh... maybe it’d be best to not tell Nomusa.”

"I figured you were not in your right mind since you prefer females instead of males, but I will take it as a compliment." Kiume gestured toward the Temple of Ruin. "Mother is waiting. You best go."

“Well, your daughters had to get their beauty from somewhere.” Leere took a few deep breaths before entering the temple. Since her emotional epilogue a month ago, Leere saw Mother only a few select times for check ins. In her time, Leere tried to study Echidnan language, explore the territory of the country, as well as grow a stronger relationship with as many monsters that felt safe around her. Seeing Mother at her throne, she bowed respectfully. “Greetings Mother. I was told Bonegrinder is finally feeling well?”

"Modoc is well enough to talk and move." Mother told Leere, looking rather tired. She had researched text after text to find a way to ensure that the deity inside the Anagari remained stable. The Echidnan leader had spent a majority of her magic and resources and was in dire need of rest herself. Yet, she could not slumber until she was sure everything was all right once more. "He is still... out of sorts. Do not be surprised if he says things which make no sense."

“I will be careful around him. Mother, are you well? You look fatigued.”

"I am simply tired, Leere. It is not easy using magic when you have none to spare." Mother admitted to the princess. "Yet, I have seen worse. Go visit with Modoc. Even if he is still confused, it will do him good to see a familiar face."

“Please take care not to strain yourself.” Leere gave her a kind glance before leaving to journey deeper into the temple.

Mother had constructed a new nest for Bonegrinder on the ground level. It was too difficult to carry his body up to the higher levels of the temple. So there he rested, on pillows and silk. His body had mended well, with a few new scars to boot, but his mind was still threading itself together after the strain.

Leere carefully journeyed close, placing a hand upon his chest to feel a heartbeat. “Bonegrinder? Are you awake?”

"Faces, faces, everywhere in places... hrm... another face..." Bonegrinder was murmuring to himself and his eyes were glazed. "When are you?"

“I’m Leere Dragmire. In my 40’s.” Leere looked down into those glazed, dazed eyes. “Who am I talking to?”

"He does not know if he's... Modoc... no, Bonegrinder... what about Prama? He barely knows, barely knows himself, but knows all..." The Anagari's tail flicked back and forth. "Who do you want to talk to, princess who desires answers? Part of him keeps you from knowledge, the other part thinks you should know."

Leere’s fists squeezed tightly, feeling so much older than she appeared. There were indeed answers she needed to have unearthed. “Can you tell me what is so important about the markings about my back? And do you believe Malus is truly dammed to hell?”

"Ah, curious little one..." The Anagari even sounded different than his usual self. "Malus used to be prosperous until their downfall. A downfall due to promises of power. You know power is so seductive, but can be so corruptible." He then elaborated. "I was there, I saw them turn from using their gifts to transport the souls to the afterlife, but then decided to manipulate them for their own purposes. Such was a cause for their damnation." His head then turned to look at her. "And you would be part of their plans, princess. Modoc wanted to ensure you were kept ignorant. Bonegrinder agreed. But I know you wish to have that knowledge. The knowledge that you are a piece of their ritual to bring back the entity of Chaos, incarnated as pure Tyranny. To bring forth corruption." He asked Leere. "Another reason why the Temple of Time scares you, beckons you and torments you... to show you what is a possibility to come."

Leere looked down at him, unsure what to say at first. It was one burden replaced by the next. She always knew that she was a failed sacrifice, yet now she knew what for. More so, there was always a danger of her forced purpose being fulfilled. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

"Modoc, Bonegrinder, your friend didn't want you to hurt further than you've already been hurt." He mused. "Figured it would be best to keep you in the dark so you would live the remainder of your days in normalcy... humans always want the usual. So boring... but it keeps the balance."

“I wanted the truth. Why couldn’t he- why couldn’t you give me that Modoc? I... what else are you hiding from me?” Leere’s voice fizzled to a whisper, her muscles relaxing from a sense of defeat.

"He would not tell you for he feared you would hate him. He is already facing blame from his creations," The Anagari's hazy eyes blinked slowly and then he said. "He earned your friendship and did not wish to lose it. One of the victims of Chaos' terrors, if he could spare even one, it would be a good deed done..."

“I don’t need secrets. I don’t need to be kept in the dark. I’m afraid of the dark after all.” A sad chuckle escaped her, her head falling down into her arms. “I need friends who can be honest with me. I need a light to rely on. If not you... than someone else.”

"Would you hate him for trying to protect you? He is, simply, a host." The Anagari then had a bit of a maniacal giggle. "Darkness and shadows bring nothing but dread, two can keep a secret if one is dead..."

Leere tilted her head, unimpressed by whatever was talking through Bonegrinder. “I am shadow. Now how about whatever entity you may be, take leave of Modoc’s body?”

"He cannot until Kaska comes to fetch him, princess. Just as does Dhakk and Chaos with their bodies, he has his. Surely you know the tales, Mother should have taught you well." He then asked with a tilted head. "Should he teach you the rhyme?"

“Wait. Dhakk? You speaking in third person like Bonegrinder, or the first? Which god does that make you?”

"Which do you think, princess? Snakes have a very bad reputation for having part in the end of the world..." He chuckled, partly rising from the bed. Bonegrinder's eyes were no longer hazy but now solid white. He was very clear that there were two souls within one body. The Anagari's eyes were usually redder than blood, but now, were the color of fallen snow. "Very clever of Kaska to manipulate the circumstances so my host would be just that. Somewhere no one would look for him. Someone who would be avoided due to fear to keep him safe. Until it is time for the final battle until Chaos, he will be unable to leave his host."

“I see a lot of destruction from your host...”

"He is a formidable creature and deadly shaman... what he does is not me. I am not him and he is not me."

“Cryptic. Like most higher beings I know.” Leere gripped his hand, looking deep into those white eyes. “I want my friend back please.”

"Why? So you can torment him further?" The deity was curious. "I still do not understand what draws you to him. My host is by no means a saint, but serves his purpose well. He has accepted his fate, yet still tries in his own way to benefit others. What has he ever done to benefit you? Didn't you say he brings forth much destruction? Hasn't he brought you misery? Why stay by his side?"

“He was a friend to me when I needed one. The destruction he brings is chosen by those who seek it. He saved my life. The misery I felt was inflicted on myself and by monsters in the dark. Now, tell me, exactly, what do you mean I torment him?” She aggressively grabbed him by the thin beard dangling from his chin. Leere didn’t know if she could truly intimidate a god, but she didn’t care.

"You truly do not know? He wants to save you from your impending fate," The deity then paused. "But knows he may not be able to do so. He lost his family and does not want to lose anyone else."

"That's not torment you sniveling being. That's concern. How dare you make me believe I'm a burden on him." Leere let go of his beard, patting down her pockets for chalk. Soon as she found an old broken piece, she started to get to work on drawing a circle around Bonegrinder.

"If you are trying to exorcise me, it won't work." The deity told the princess. "In time, you will see what I mean. For now, I will allow you your friend back. If you have more questions, I will be waiting... or you could ask Kasdeya. The mother of many will elaborate more so than I." He then told her. "Be grateful this snake cares for you, Leere. He took a hit for you, and we have been repairing ourselves for a long while."

Then he retreated to the recesses of the Anagari's body.

Leere paused her attempted exorcism. Throwing the chalk away, she sat down next to Bonegrinder until she heard his presence stir next to her. "Modoc?"

Once the deity had retreated into the recesses of Bonegrinder's mind, the Anagari squirmed. He was in agony. The pain would not subside. For all Mother's magic, she could not cure all that ailed him. Dark magic had its price and while light tried to battle it, he had to suffer the consequences. He looked so frail. "Tiny princess..." He tried to mask the discomfort from his voice. "He would have thought... you'd be home by now."

"Malik and I wanted to wait for you. We're a team." Although she smiled, and her hands were soft and kind as she held his, there was a sense of unease in her voice.

"Don't jest, tiny princess, you know that Malik hates this snake's guts." The Anagari said dryly, being a bit of a brat. "Still sore since he lost a fight and knows he would lose again and again."

"He has honour Modoc. He respects you enough to not abandon. He hasn't had any contact with his family for over a month now. Stop acting like a child." There was something about his brattish behaviour that seriously got under Leere's skin now.

"He is not Modoc!" Bonegrinder shouted so loud that dust shook from the stones. He jerked on the bedding and held his head so tightly, that his claws made it start to bleed. "He is not him! He is... he is... he doesn't know who he is!" He groaned and closed his eyes. "When is he! The visions, the memories, what is what, who is who, when is when, he can't stand it anymore! Let him forget! He wants to forget the screams, the bodies, the failure, the absolute failure! All this power and he can't save one fucking soul!" Sparks of magic filled the air. "Why did you tell her?! She had to know! She didn't, she doesn't, she won't---"

Mother quickly skittered around the corner and approached the nest. She held tightly to the Anagari, trying to ensure he would not have another outburst of celestial magic. It could harm everyone within the Temple or even outside of it if he was too agitated.

"Don't laugh as death passes you by, for you might be the next to die," Mother repeated the age old rhyme, trying to bring some sense of clarity back to the snake. "The grim reaper walks beside of thee, she comes for all, for you and me. What's next? Tell me what is next."

"Darkness and shadow bring nothing but dread, two can keep a secret if one is dead..."

"She... the grim reaper walks beside of thee..."

"Answer me!" Mother nearly shook him. "Don't let your mind crack again! You're here! You're with me! With your friend, Leere! You don't want to hurt her, right? Keep control!"

"He is... I am... who am I?"

"You are the shaman once known as Modoc, you call yourself Bonegrinder now. Why? Why do you call yourself that?"

"Because... because..." His eyes nearly rolled back into his head. "The bones of his enemies will be ground into dust... nothing left..."

"Good, good... tell me of your family..."

"Ngh... Kaksa... no... Akihara..."

"Your children."

"Osage and Ponca..."

"Your friends."

"Blue, White, Red, Black, Silver... such pretty colors."

"And the kid in the maze?"

"Hrm... tiny princess... so small.... so... so lost..." Bonegrinder emphasized the last word, looking heartbroken. "Mother, how can he help her if he cannot even save her?"

"It's okay, it's okay, she's right here... she's still alive."

"Alive... still alive..."

"That's right... sleep now. She's all right."

"Hrm-hmm..." Bonegrinder started to doze in Mother's arms. "So... tired..."

"Then sleep."

Once Bonegrinder had dozed off into sleep again, Mother's tense body relaxed with a deep sigh. "Oh thank Kaska..."

Leere watched the whole ordeal with dread, watching two massive slithering monsters shake back and forth all so one could keep the others emotions calm and in control. The temple stone shook for a few moments there. Finally feeling like she could take a breath, Leere leaned back against a stone pillar. "I don't even know what to think of that."

"I doubt he will recall any of this when he wakes again." Mother kept as still as a mouse while holding Bonegrinder. "When he's in pain, he barely remembers what happened or what he says. It's all like... a dream to him. That's as close as I can describe it." She looked so tired herself, but held strong. "Destroyer and Chaos are out there... Prama is here." She stroked Bonegrinder's long hair. "Prama is bitter for what has happened to him and has been separated from Kaksa for what feels like an eternity. Yet, he still protects us through Bonegrinder's eyes. While sullen and crass, Prama still looks for Kaksa and to us..." She then said, "Despite what you may believe or anyone else, he does have our interests at heart. At least that is one objective they both agree upon."

"What now? Is he going to sleep for another month?"

"The last time he was attacked by Chaos, he was asleep for nearly an entire year." Mother told Leere. "It would not be fair to keep you or Malik from your families any longer. When he is well, I will send him there. For now, if you wish to return to Hyrule, I will open a portal for you."

"What about his family within the Hive?"

"We will send word that he is in recovery still. They have faith in him." Mother then told Leere. "This is great a burden to know, Leere... if you wish to rid yourself of this knowledge, there are ways."

"... this." Mother held up her hand, magic forming in her palm. Yet, it aged her skin prematurely. "Pure life force. Prama is the Maker. His host can accept nothing else."

"Modoc complained about too much light in him."

"It hurts him sometimes, but I know naught of what else to do. This is the only solution which works." Mother's magic returned to her body. "I have tried many other ways. Perhaps he will wake sooner, perhaps not. For now, tell Malik that Bonegrinder is still unstable. The last thing your kingdom needs is the chance of a deity wiping it off the map."

"His body holds darkness within him... with all due respect Mother, I think you aid the spirit of the god inside him, but not Modoc himself. On that note, perhaps I can be of true assistance."

"I cannot allow you to use your magic upon him, Leere." Mother told the princess with a small shake of her head. "I am ancient and will live until you and yours are long gone. You are mortal with a select number of years left. Any unknown move could result in transference of your life energy... willing or not." She sighed and carefully laid Bonegrinder's head back on the pillows. "I aid the deity to save us all. I aid Modoc because he is my friend. Prama require light. Modoc uses darkness. Hence, he can use either type of magic. Yet, too much of one... and the scales are tipped."

"Two things you should know about me Mother. Most of the life I have has been taken other mortals to fuel my own youth. Stolen from criminals and murders. And I am all but willing." She placed a hand on Bonegrinder's chest, taking a deep breath. "You're right. He does need balance. But I can also see in those beautiful eyes of yours, despite proclaiming your superiority over mortals, there is fear in your mirrors to the soul. I believe you haven't been giving him that balance he needs due to your own fears. My own mother and father taught me that every source of light casts a shadow. Both must be embraced as they can't be separated. Please... trust me." Slowly, Leere channeled her stolen abundance of life energy, laced with shadow magic to fill the darkness Bonegrinder was missing.

Bonegrinder started to stir, grumbling curses, and Mother calmly removed Leere's hand from the Anagari. She was holding her breath. The Anagari then settled and returned to slumber. "We cannot have another outburst, for I have not the energy to contain him." Mother then told the princess. "And I never said I was superior. Just that I live much, much longer."

"Most people don't like being called mortals. Makes them feel like they are being talked down to someone with a god complex." Leere was very tired herself suddenly. She must have given him 5 years of life within the span of ten seconds; the Anagari was like a sponge. "I thought that would wake him... I'll go fetch Malik, and we will leave. Taken up enough of your time and hospitality as is."

"While you do wish to help, you cannot know everything for sure, Leere. Please be more cautious in the future." Mother covered Bonegrinder with a thick fur pelt before rising. "I will escort you to the exit."

"I know..."

________________________________________________________________

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/190828059731/into-the-darkness-and-unknown-ch-6-poking-the

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/190959464556/into-the-darkness-and-unknown-ch-8-connection-to

[ticklishhpickle]

Worth The Whisk (4/?)

Summary: When superhero Dan Howell gets paired up with fellow hero and arch nemesis Phil Lester for an important mission, he’s pissed beyond belief. But as the two are forced to work together to take down the evil Dr.Bickletwist, Dan finds Phil might not be as awful as he first thought… (Phan superhero AU) 

Previous Chapter

Ao3 link

Dan was walking down the hallway with Tyler, dreading the mission ahead of him. He’d spent the whole weekend studying the papers the commander had given him and it was safe to say he was extremely well-prepared for the mission of hell with a certain black-haired man. Phil had interrupted him many times too, turning up to his and Tyler’s dorm, obviously in a panic and asking Dan about the tiniest , most insignificant details about Dr.Bickletwist. Dan was all for being well-prepared for the mission, but being enemies with Phil, it was just annoying.

The last time Phil had ‘visited’ Dan had kicked him out abruptly, slamming the door in his face seconds before hearing Phil swearing his revenge on the boy. Dan guessed it was kind of his fault for doing that, it would just serve to make the next day, or days, or weeks- however long it would take to defeat the villain- even more awkward.

“Excited for your mission, whiskorino?” Tyler chirped, in a suspiciously happy mood considering his best friend was leaving on a potentially life-threatening mission.

“No. To the nickname and your question. Of course not. Phil and I had another fight yesterday so it’s going to be even more awkward now! I literally cannot wait until this whole thing is over and Bickle is behind bars where he belongs.” Dan huffed, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, why are you in such a good mood? Aren’t you gonna miss me?” Dan asked teasingly, though secretly he was insecure about the fact that Tyler might not miss him as much as he was going to miss Tyler.

“Oh, of course I’ll miss you. I’m just really happy you’re gonna get to go on this mission of a lifetime! You’re gonna go down in history, Dan! You’ll be as well known as the Ocean Liner himself!” Tyler exclaimed, his blue eyes lighting up excitedly.

“Yeah, as if. No way someone like me could ever be as good as the commander. But I appreciate the sentiment, Tyler. I’ll try and make you proud.”

“Well I think not, but okay. And you will make me proud, as long as you try.”

The two friends walked for a couple seconds in comfortable silence, finally reaching the spot Dan was meeting Phil and the commander before Tyler stopped suddenly and grabbed Dan’s arm.

“Wait! Before you go, I have something for you. The first, is a piece of advice. Don’t let your hatred for Mr. Sunshine get in the way of the mission. There’s no way you’ll be able to do this alone, as great as I think you are. You have to work together.” Tyler said, all traces of the usual humour and jovialness gone from his face.

Dan sighed and rolled his eyes. He’d heard this a million times before, it was getting old and no one seemed to understand that Phil was well, kind of an ass.

“No, Dan. Listen to me. I don’t want you to ignore me on this, I hate being serious almost as much as you do but you need to take my advice.”

Dan looked at his friend’s face, feeling ashamed of his admittedly immature behaviour.

“Alright, fine. I’ll keep it in mind. And what’s the second thing?”

A huge grin spread across Tyler’s face, replacing the stern look that was previously occupying it. His hands twitched in excitement.

“Oh ho ho, mister Howell. You’re gonna love this.” Tyler reached into his pocket, felt around for a few seconds and extracted something small that he kept covered with his hands before bringing it to Dan’s face.

Tyler opened his hands like a clam.

“TA-DA!!!” he giggled, studying Dan’s face intently for a reaction.

Dan’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor and his eyes widened in rage or shock- he wasn’t really sure which, probably a mixture of both. Insider Tyler’s soft baby hands lay a teeny-tiny whisk on the end of a thin silver chain, shining innocently in the bright lights of the corridor.

Dan looked at Tyler with a face straighter than Tyler (and Dan’s) sexuality. He took a deep breath in to calm himself, and then breathed out. He looked at the ground, refusing to meet Tyler’s excited gaze.

“Tyler, you’re literally half a whisk joke away from me leaving your gay ass behind and getting a new best friend.”

Tyler scoffed.

“Yeah, good luck with that one, your equally-as-gay ass is as intolerable as mine. And I promise you this whisk-lace is not just for aesthetic appeal. It has a function too.” “I’m actually bi but whatever… Tell me what the function is then, if you want me to actually keep it.”

“All I’m gonna say Danny, is that they don’t call me the Flame-ingo for nothing. And you’ll regret it if you don’t bring it with you, trust me. But only use it in an ABSOLUTE emergency, you hear me?” Tyler poked Dan’s chest sternly, smiling gleefully.

“Ugh, fuck it. I’m already going on this stupid fucking mission with Lester, could wearing this whisklace really be any worse than that? I managed to escape one shitty name from hero school, I guess the universe wasn’t kind enough to let me escape my actual hero name.” Dan sighed and took the necklace from Tyler’s hand, making sure to put it on backwards so that it would be hidden by his cape.

“Oh, you mean ‘Dani snot on fire?’ I remember that! No one even said it correctly by the third week of year eight! Who even thought of that dumb name?”

“Uhm, it may have been me…” Dan admitted sheepishly.

Tyler nearly cried out in shock and delight, but Dan quickly put a hand over his mouth to stop any sound from escaping.

He looked around before lowering his voice to a small whisper. “Look, I don’t tell a lot of people, or anyone really, this. But as you know, my lesser known power is that I’m immune to burns and fire, so I thought it would be… cool to, you know, call myself ‘Dan is not on fire’. It was an ironic thing, really, and I was twelve but it took so damn long to shake off that name. It still haunts me to this day.” Dan cringed at his old self.

“Anyway, you are never to speak of this to anyone. If anyone asks, you still have no idea who thought of that dumb-ass name.”

Tyler was red in the face, clearly trying to hold back a dramatic fit of giggles. “Mm-hm!” he squeaked out, his voice being muffled by Dan’s hand.

“Now swear you’ll never speak of this to anyone. This is my darkest secret. I memed myself over.” Dan looked Tyler in the eyes sternly and lowered his hand off Tyler’s mouth cautiously.

“Okay, whisk-o. I won’t. But you can’t forget about the whisk. Just promise me that, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t. Thank you Tyler, for everything really. And if I don’t come back-”

“No! Don’t say that, you will!” Tyler rebuffed dramatically, not wanting to believe it.

“Tyler, it’s a possibility. If Dr.Bickletwist twists me over, just know that I appreciate everything you’ve ever done for me, despite your excessive whisk jokes. Thank you.” Dan smiled at Tyler before putting the code into the door and walking out.

“You’re welcome! Come home soon, I’m nothing without my number one whisk-a-roo!” Tyler joked, but Dan could see the tears welling in his eyes.

Dan quickly ran back to his friend, wrapping him in a hug. “This is stupid, we know I’ll be fine. I’ve been on so many missions before. I’ll come back soon, we’re being ridiculous. That bickle is no match for me.” He squeezed Tyler tighter in the hug.

“You’re right, I’m just really emotional because I think Louise’s period is coming soon and-”

Dan looked at his friend quizzically.

“You know that shouldn’t really affect your body, right? Just Louise’s.”

“O-oh. Um, I knew that.” Tyler sniffled.

“If you say so, Tyler. If you say so.” -

It had taken Dan a good few minutes to pry the flaming homosexual off of him, causing him to be a little late for take off. The commander was not happy.

“Daniel, I hope you know this is your second strike for tardiness. When i set a time for you to leave for a mission I expect you to be there at that time, not fifteen minutes after.”

Dan shrunk into himself, embarrassed that he’d let it happen again. It wasn’t his fault though, Tyler was literally clinging to him like a limpet.

“Sorry, it won’t happen again. Tyler had a little trouble saying goodbye… he’s very attached.” Dan said sheepishly.

“Well you and your boyfriend are going to have to find a way to be apart for a couple of days if you actually care enough to defeat Dr.Bickletwist, Dan.” Phil spat out saltily, particularly enunciating the word ‘boyfriend’ with venom.

Dan narrowed his eyes at Phil for what was probably the billionth time in his existence. “He’s not my boyfriend and even if he was he’s allowed to be upset that I’m leaving for a while even if it’s not going to be that long.”

Phil opened his mouth to retort but the commander stopped him.

“Daniel, Philip, I think it’s time you two stopped acting like children and starting acting like the heroes I’ve trained you to be. We don’t have time for your childish bickering.” The commander’s voice was sharp and cold, shutting the both of them up immediately.

The commander smiled when the silence was sustained after a few seconds. “Good. Now take these. They have everything you need in them.” The commander handed Dan and Phil identical compact purses. They did look small, but Dan knew they would probably carry fifty times the amount they looked like they should. The Ocean Liner was good at what he did.

“Don’t complain about the design. It looks great and you know it. Now off with you two.”

Dan awkwardly stuffed the purse into his pants, making it look like he had a hernia. He didn’t bother to fix it, today was already way too long and tiring.

The two men walked to the take off zone as slowly as the Ocean Liner would allow, which was not very slow at all. Dan looked down at his feet, up at his commander and finally directly at Phil. He exhaled slowly before hovering in the air. This was going to be his longest, hardest mission yet. An indefinite amount of time spent with his enemy was the last thing he wanted, or quite frankly needed at the moment, but he was going to have to do it. It would be worth it. Worth it for justice.

Next Chapter

[dia-sana]

I will seek Spring if Winter intends to last

Pairing: Saeran/Unknown/Ray x MC Genre: Romance. Disclaimer: None. A/N: Are you my savior, dear Anon? I saw your request when I was on the 8th night (Fate!!!), I was so depressed because I cannot stand seeing Saeran in pain but you gave me an opportunity to write a happy ending and I feel slightly better ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡ ♥

For some reason, he was back in her room. There was no point to it. It was useless and only made him depressed. Lazily, he dropped his body on the side of her bed. He was fully aware of what Ray used to do every time he came here, since she left. Laying in there, inhaling only what remained of her presence, drowning their memories in intractable tears as he tried to find out where everything went wrong, what he did that was worth corrosive agony… And Unknown was somehow curious. What was it like to scent her? He only knew what she was like thanks to his feeble mind mate and wondered how he would feel himself. He was pretty well aware of his beating heart longing for her and his mind going places he never went before. But was he that weak for her too? Hesitantly, he laid on her sheets and took her pillow closer. To his own surprise, the process revealed to be intoxicating, pleasant beyond state. This girl was something drastically special. His heart beating faster, he clenched on the submerged agitation he choked with. If she was able to make him feel this helpless without even being here, it would definitely be even more tremendous if he got to her. Therefore, now more than ever, he wanted to get her. Worship her so he could feel all those intense sensations with a much more stirring potency. She drove him crazier than he already was and how amusing this was for him to finally find something beautifully rousing in this world. Without much daze, he chuckled at her sudden phone call. Even if she may not have had any intention on coming back, she sure was addicted to him.

“I want to have you… No matter what. Didn’t Ray also say that?”

Getting the coordinates of their positions proved to be quite easy. The redhead was good but not as much as him or Ray. Hence, he only needed to distract Luciel with a weird coding pattern and stole his informations while he was busy looking away. Half an hour later, he was in his car, not giving any thought about Mint Eye or his savior. Ray may have been the most loyal person on this planet, Unknown knew what was important now. They both were perfectly conscious that they were used by Rika but the difference between them resided on the fact that Ray could not stand alone. Thinking about that, could Unknown really do it? Probably. He had that ache pinned to his chest but his mindset and projects were enough to drive him far even by himself. If it were for him, every damn problem Mint Eye had would have been resolved since long ago. At least, that was what he thought.

The clock indicated that it was past two in the morning and he pressed on the accelerator. He had to get to her before the redhead became suspicious or this dumbass would take annoying measures in order to keep her in his little impenetrable tower. His right hand tensed around the steering wheel while his left hand was hovering outside of his opened window, to feel the cold wind in a vain attempt at calming the everlasting irked storm in him. He recalled how much Mint Eye meant to him. How his savior saved his miserable life and gave him an opportunity to avenge for his injustice. But may it be him or Ray, something became slightly more important than this to them. Or more precisely, someone. They both saw how the savior grew attached to their precious tester. Who would not? The issue was that they knew she would keep her to herself if she could. Ray may have dumbly complied because of his puppy nature but Unknown could not let such thing happen. She was his. His favorite little toy had no other place than by his side. Thus, he wondered. It may have been possible that the only outcome available for them was to do what she asked to Ray on the phone some time ago. “Can we not run away together?”. That marshmallow should have agreed. What a fucking idiot. Nonetheless, it gave the opportunity to Unknown to be the one to shine in his doll’s eyes. If he was the one to rescue her and to satisfy her plead, she would desperately fall for him. More than for Ray. That pink gummy may be all sweet, but he was such a pain in the ass. Unknown was way more fun to be with.

It was past three when his car stationed in front of the cabin where the two traitors and her were. How delicate she was to be innocent enough to fall for their trap; he would have to keep an eye on her if he did not want to see her hurt in the future. Anyhow, he had already decided on detaining her in his line of sight. Problem solved. Stepping out of the driver seat, he approached the place slowly. They heard the engine for sure. In that sense, there was no need to be stealthy nor make a fuss. Would that redhead remembered him when he would see his face? Would he be tormented? He was not here for him now but he still hoped to see some pain taint his dumb face. He was not even close to the door when this one opened, his princess running towards him at full speed. Was it relief that he witnessed on her face just before she crashed against him for a hug? His hands hesitantly made their way to her back and hair, arms wrapping around her as he exhaled in solace. She was there. Right in front of him. Right in his arms. She was there.

- Ray, you came. I missed you so much.

He sneered before placing two fingers on her chin. Temptation was delicious as he noticed how the stars gave a soft tint to her lips. Still, he fairly jumped as she unexpectedly pressed them against his, leaving him like a breathless mess. He felt drowsy for a second but soon got grip of the situation and tightened his embrace before responding to her kiss with a feverish desire. Far in his head, he could hear Ray almost fainting partly of happiness, partly of jealousy. But, overall, they were both euphoric and Unknown, for once, could not care any less about what Ray was doing. When they broke the buss, he laughed once more with his devilish octaves, pretending his cheek were not invaded by a wide mist of pink as ha gave her an amused stare.

- You know that I am not Ray, right, little doll?

Again, she surprised him as she only smiled and kissed him a second time with much more tenderness. Only a peck that left him frustrated but aroused anyway.

- I figured what was your link with Ray already.

She stated her sentence with such cute pride, he could only melt on the inside. Which kind of disgusted him because Ray was doing the same and just nope. Leisurely, he took her wrists so he could free his neck and shoulders from her hug but kept her hands in his as he was afraid she would vanish again. He understood why Ray was such an emotional wreck every time they were together; this girl was something beyond this world. Lucky her for not being able to read all the things that crossed his mind as he thought about what they would do as soon as they would find shelter away from here. For a brief second, he looked away from her just to monitor their surroundings and that is when he saw Luciel. All the cheesy sparkling delight he felt disappeared instantly as they were hunted down by anger and turmoil. His arch enemy was at the doorway, grim devastation carved in every trait of his visage. Was Saeran really satisfied with that? He wished he could have proclaimed how happy this made him but something was odd, like an old memory he could not recall properly. In this instant, he could have reach out to him, ask for his help so he could flee with his love and hide or suggest that they stayed together, the three of them. Yet, that was not what he did nor what he believe he wanted. Eight years of convincing had made his beliefs harder than carbon and there was no coming back for now.

- Saeran… What are you doing here?

Finally, he spoke. His voice was merely a whisper in the night, a sound carried by the breeze of the early hours of the new day. But it still sounded oh-so painful and Saeran was confused at how much it  seemed genuine. This was not the time for chatter and he frowned in aggravated resentment as his lips curved in his most menacing smirk.

- I am not here for you tonight, Luciel.

Saeran eyes softened to an astounding extend as he gazed back to his princess before whispering in her ear to go seat in his car. His command was muttered with tenderness but she could not miss the hazardous undertone hinting that she had no choice there. She did as she was told and Unknown watched closely until she was secured. There was no doubt that Luciel would intend on getting her back. However, that redhead was out of words, speechless. There was nothing he could do here as he was a prisoner of the situation they were in. Should he stop her or Saeran? He knew he could not encounter his brother but he had to protect his friend. What should he do? By the time he was anxiously trying to find a solution, Unknown was climbing back in his driver seat. His engine back to life, he drove to the front of the cabin, turning to the side and leaned closer to his girlfriend so Luciel could perfectly see both of them through her opened window. A laugh cracked the silence. She barely had the courage to look at the devastated Luciel while Unknown was having hysterical stomach cramps. Once he behaved out of his mania, he placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer while glancing at his enemy with jovial provocation.

- Do not worry Saeyoung, I will come back especially for you. For now, I have to take care of our princess.

He sniggered once more and drove out of the place as fast as possible, feeling his anxiety kicking where Ray was locked. After a few minutes, he glanced at his love and smiled. Ray was right, she was such a pretty girl. A porcelain doll he wanted to play with as soon as possible.

- Is Saeran your real name?

He tensed his fingers around the steering wheel as he heard the doomed syllables. No matter how much he hated that combination of sounds, he had to admit that he kind of liked them coming out of her delicate mouth. He only nodded and she seemed to think for a moment before looking back at him.

- Can I call you like that? At least when we are alone if this is a secret.

She was such a smart girl. He agreed and took her hand so he could kiss her knuckles before biting them playfully. Should they stop for a while? They were on a road in the middle of the woods and the sun had still some time before rising. Ray suggested that they needed to gain some distance but Unknown only wanted to make her his now. He needed to feel all his torturing thoughts being shut and replaced only by her exalting existence. He wanted to melt in her as soon as possible. Maybe she had noticed the unidentified impatience on his face because she caressed the back of hair before playing with a lock of pink hair and spoke with a calming voice.

- Let us create our own happiness, Saeran.

Happiness…? Yes, that had been the purpose of his new life for so long but he could not reach it so far. However, Saeran had the confidence that, now that she was here, they could truly make it real. Unknown chuckled and hastily pressed on the gas pedal. They needed distance, he was okay with that, but he could not wait any longer and was only pushing his patience beyond limits.

- You are such a good girl. Let me drive just a little bit further and I will give you a reward.

The sun finally rose in the horizon as Ray woke up from the best sleep he ever had. It took him a little while to comprehend why he was laying at the back of his car and to realize that his lover was resting on him. Great new habit of his, he almost blacked out from the huge amount of blood rushing to his face and choked with it, accidently waking her up in the process. She placed sleepy eyes on his redness and simply smiled as she greeted him with a loving kiss on the tip of his nose.

- Looks like Ray is back… Did you sleep well, Saeran?

Damn it, was he dreaming again? Was it one of his bothering dreams he had way too often? He made a weird panicked expression as he spluttered in embarrassment. Even worse, he almost released a high-pitched whimper as she chuckled and kissed his lips. She sat up straight on his hips, letting his jacket fall off her shoulders as she started putting her clothes back on and Ray scrambled to hide his eyes from the heady view he had. What a perv Unknown was! Damn it!

[spacyparker]

The difficulty of dating

MASTERLIST - PROMPT LIST

Request : Hi! Can you make a Peter Parker x Reader where the reader is Tony’s cousin and she has superpowers too (Telekinesis and Pyrokinesis and she’s kinda more serious than Tony) ans she’s an avenger and Peter has a crush on her and he asks the Avengers for advice and each one gives him an advice and they all fail until he tells Tony about it? ( by @zainab-al-huwaizi )

Characters : Peter Parker x reader

Word count : 1.6k

A/N : Okay this is the first part guys, I had fun writing the summaries on my phone and I can’t wait to write the other parts (there will be 3 parts for this actually). ENJOY and don’t forget to tell me what you thought and that my requests are open !

The Stark Tower hadn’t been so occupied for such a long time. It was like a family reunion, everyone was there. Bruce Banner was in the lab all days doing no one knew exactly what, some experimentations Tony and him talked about all the time as if the health of the Earth depended on it, Steve  Rogers watched the television with Sam Wilson making up for lost time with the most important films of the century, Natasha Romanoff passed by everyday to check on everyone but she was also busy outside doing some minor missions for Nick Fury and for herself sometimes, Scarlet Witch was locked inside of her bedroom yelling at Vision when he came in her room through the wall without even knocking or warning about his entrance. And there were two new persons in the tower, Peter Parker who didn’t live here but loved to hang out with the Avengers, and Y/N Stark, Tony’s cousin, whom he offered to stay in for few months since she had helped the Team a couple of times and he needed to learn more about her powers.

For a reason no one knew, Y/N was a mutant, one of the last on Earth after the X-Men things. She was born with powers and it was a total mystery for the Stark family since she was the only one to have some. Y/N was really powerful, she was gifted with telekinesis but also pyrokinesis. She spent her days training with her cousin Tony to figure the limits of her powers and how dangerous she could be because she didn’t fully control it. Anyways, she only showed up for dinner or when she needed some rest, despite she hated to lie down doing nothing.

The first time Peter had seen Y/N was when he fought Captain America standing by Iron Man’s side. She was there, in his team, and he already had a pinch to his heart. She seemed to have his age,or maybe she was a little older, and the seriousness stuck on her face had him shook. When he was all friendly with his enemies and talking, Y/N screamed at the other team having no pity for them, she even had sent Hawkeye at the hospital.

Peter entered the living-room, where Captain was still watching TV and Falcon threw pop corn on some intelligent machines Tony had made, laughing his ass off since the robot was searching where the food was coming.

“Here’s the baby spider !” Sam exclaimed. “Don’t you have school ?”

“It’s five pm Mister Wilson, it makes hours now that school is finished.”

Peter joined the team months ago, but he still couldn’t call the Avengers by their names, it was either their last names or their heroe names. Not that they didn’t want him to, but he was just too intimidated to do so. He always felt like a kid in front of them and May had taught him to call the older oned by their last names. He was just following the rules.

“Is it your juice time already ?” Falcon giggled, loving to treat him as a child to annoy the spider.

“Shut up Sam, I didn’t hear the reason why the gremlins can’t eat during the night !” Steve retorted.

Peter felt discomforted right away, he came today for a special reason and he was starting to think he would look like a damn fool after he’d ask his question. Why was he asking them anyway, and not aunt May ? Oh, right, because the last time he asked, he finished with his girlfriend’s father as an anemy. Not that it was aunt May fault but… Maybe she just wasn’t her lucky charm. Plus, Steve and Sam were both men, maybe they had some victory stories to help him.

“Actually, ehm…” Peter took the speak back. He was blushing and all, rubbing his arm by unease. “I… I need an advice.”

Both superheroes watching TV looked up to the spider boy, immediately interested on what he was willing to tell even if they had no clue what it was about. “Okay kiddo, we’re listening.”

“Okay, so…” It was hard to launch into explications but once he started he couldn’t stop. “I like Y/N. Like, she’s always on my mind since I saw her the first time when I stole your shield Captain and she’s just so wonderful and we talked few times but she doesn’t seem to be interested in me which I understand because I’m sort of a loser and she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen but I was wondering how I could catch her attention up, right I don’t want to give up before even trying but obviously flirting is not for me and I need help you guys please don’t let me down. She… She’s great.”

Sam and Steve were arching an eyebrow, speechless of what Peter just confessed. But he was only fifteen and they knew how hard it could be at this age to be confident with girls. Steve knew it the most, he also was a loser back in his childhood and everyone was into his best friend Bucky forgetting about him.

“Well, first you should learn how to breathe when you talk and also how to pause.” Sam assured. Peter sighed, he didn’t take any pause because he was too stressed to do so, it was the first time he admitted someone -Ned didn’t count- he liked Y/N.

“I know what you need to do, Parker.” Steve said, making his representative smile with hope. “You just need to buy a bouquet of roses, and take her to the bal.”

Sam and Peter both remained speechless. The bal, was he kidding ? What was that supposed to mean anyway, the bal ? There was homecoming, but beside that… ? “Bal isn’t a thing anymore nowadays, Captain.” Sam made fun of him.

“Are you telling me I’m old ?”

“You’re like 100 ! Of course you’re old, such a handsome guy but still old.”

“Do you mean I should take her to a club ?” Peter cut them in their little fight. “I’m only 15, do you know that or… ?” He passed his hand in his hair awkwardly. That wasn’t his best idea to ask Captain some advice.

“Really ? Tony told me you were 14.” Peter groaned, Tony really had to learn how old he was. “Anyway don’t take on board what this relic just said, he’s out-of-date. I'mma tell you what you really need to do. Take her anywhere so you’re both alone, and talk to her about things, and other things, tell her things you like and dislike, don’t be too distant, then tell her you like her, be honest, she’ll notice anyway.”

“Somewhere we can be alone… I don’t know such a place.”

“Take her on the rooftop, girls love height.”

Peter came back to his apartment to change his clothes and put some perfume. He wanted to be as handsome as possible for Y/N, make a good impression. Earlier he had the guts to ask her if she wanted to join him at nine on the rooftop to help him with some homeworks, and she agreed even if she didn’t understand why he wasked her and not someone else. They weren’t that close and she certainly was less brilliant than him.

He was back at the front of her door at 20:53 but waited 21:02 to knock. The poor little boy was so stressed he didn’t want her to think he was ahead of time, anyway he was. She opened her door, she had just brush her hair and Peter could smell her shampoo flavor coming right to his nose. A real delight. She hadn’t take the trouble to change, which was normal since she thought she was just going to help him with his homeworks.

“So, how old are you, I don’t even know.” Asked Peter while climbing the stairs to go to the roof of the tower.

“I’m seventeen, but I know I look quite your age. Puberty had not hit me yet.”

Peter bit his lower lip. “You don’t need puberty.” He whispered and Y/N smiled, not answering. “So, uhm… Do you… Do you like heights ?” Y/N frowned, what was that question, really ? Peter was only trying to have a discussion with her and he remembered what Sam said. “Okay, that was weird. It’s just… It’s for class, my homeworks you know” He started lying. “I have a presentation and…”

“Am I the subject of your presentation, Peter ?” Y/N noticed he was nervous, and decided to gently play with it. She wasn’t dumb, and she understood by his clemsiness that he might have a little something for her. She thought it was cute. Peter was the only boy of her age or almost she talked to.

“No ! No you’re not you’re ! Not that you’re not interesting enough to have a presentation all about you but.. Okay there’s no presentation.” Peter sighed and he sat down on the side of the building, his legs in thin air. He remembered what Sam also told him. Be honest. “I like you.”

What Y/N responded him made his heart stop for a second. “I know.” He was so shocked he lost his balance, and suddenly fell of the roof. Wearing his web bracelets as always, he catched up on a window stopped his fall. The coincidence had him stopped right in front of Captain watching TV, and Sam whom turned his head to see Peter. He giggled, thumbs up.

“Good job kiddo !” Peter could read on his lips.

PART TWO

[buckleyy--diazz]

Jimon 49

Camping!?

*

Camping! Simon couldn’t believe he had agreed on  going camping. But Clary asked and pouted like the little shit that she was knowing full well her best friend couldn’t say no to her puppy eyes.

“I’m going to what now?”, exclaimed Simon.

“Share your tent with Jace,” repeated Clary like she was talking to a small child.

Simon sighed, he really hated his best friend sometimes.

“But why?”, whined Simon, “Jace hates me, I’m probably going to end up dead. I hope you’ll feel guilty for the rest of your life Fray.”

Clary laughed and shook her head, her red curl bouncing on her shoulders.

“Because I am sharing my tent with Isabelle and Alec is obviously sharing with Magnus. And Jace doesn’t hate you, you know.”

Simon rolled his eyes. Of course Jace hated him. People like Jace didn’t liked people like Simon.

“But why can’t Isabelle share with her brother and we can share my tent. I don’t see why you absolutely want to be with Isabelle. And what about Raphael and Meliorn, they’ll be there too.”

Clary’s cheeks reddened and oh! oh now Simon understood.

“You have a crush on Isabelle!”, accused Simon. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I didn’t noticed before.”

“I don’t!”, said Clary, her red cheeks betraying her.

“You do,” said Simon, pointing her with his finger, “Oh my god, I am being sexiled, I will end up dead because you want to have a crush on my enemy’s sister.”

Clary bat Simon’s finger away from her face and laughed.

“Stop being so dramatic, you’re getting ridiculous. And first there is no sex going on here and second Jace is not you enemy. I told you, he doesn’t even hates you.”

“He does and he is my enemy. He hates my guts and he will kill me and hide my body and the wood and it will be all your fault.”

“Well, if you talk a little less you might stay alive, might…”

“I don’t talk that much, Clary. I can totally keep my mouth shut and not talk. Anyway it’s not like I could have anything to say to him.”

Clary gave Simon a flat look and he shut his mouth.

“About Raphael and Meliorn, you can always ask if Meliorn wants to room with Jace and you could share with Raphael but I think there is something going on between them so I think they’ll probably say no.”

Simon sighed, defeated. He would have to sleep next to Jace and hoping he doesn’t die.“

“I have to go back home, but you need to be ready at 7 tomorrow morning.”

“Or what? You’ll leave without me?”, asked Simon.

“Don’t dream.”

*

The next morning Simon’s alarm woke him at 6 am. All his stuff was already packed but he wanted to take a long and warm shower before leaving. Simon liked his comfort and being able to clean himself with hot water and not in a freezing river. Call him a princess, Simon didn’t care.

Simon yawned and walked to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and set the water so hot his skin would turn red in a second, just how he liked it.

He stepped in the shower and let the shower relax his muscle. He still couldn’t believe he would have to sleep in a small tent with Jace freaking Herondale. Jace and his arrogant smirk, his slick blond hair and his stupidly gorgeous body…Wait what? When did Simon started thinking Jace was hot? Objectively, Simon knew Jace looked good, he should have been blind to not notice but hot? This was new and that was not good at all. Now that’s all he would think about when he laid next to him in a few hours.

*

Clary texted Simon to tell him they were around the corner and he was better me ready to leave when they arrived. Simon pocketed his phone, took his bag and got out to wait for his friends. Just as he sat on the stairs to wait, the minivan they rented for the weekend parked in front of Simon’s apartment building and of course, of course Jace was driving.

Simon got up and saw that Clary and Isabelle were sitting in the far back, Raphael and Meliorn in front of them, leaving the passenger seat next to Jace for Simon to take.

Simon put his bag with the others in the trunk and joined his friends in the van. He said nothing but he sighed loudly as he sat next to Jace.

“Don’t look so happy to see me, Lewis!”, Jace greeted him.

Simon rolled his eyes but said nothing, it was way too early to banter with Jace. In the back he heard Clay and Isabelle giggling.

“Where are Alec and Magnus?”, asked Simon

“Magnus insisted on taking his own car, he probably want to alone time with Alec, if you know what I mean,” answered Jace.

Everybody groaned and Jace laughed.

“Jace you’re gross, you’re talking about our brother,” said Isabelle.

“I’m just kidding, Magnus have to go to work Sunday night so he took his car so he doesn’t have to make us leave early just for him.”

*

After an hour of rolling on the highway, Simon was getting restless, fiddling with everything he found and bouncing his knees until Jace put his right hand on Simon’s thigh to stop him. Simon froze and suddenly Jace seemed to realized what he did. He removed his hand hastily like he’s been burned. Simon took his phone out of his pocket and started playing a game of Angry Birds , trying to forget the feeling of Jace’s hand on him.

Simon was really ytpptrying to concentrate on his game but all he could think about was how Jace’s hand was warm and wondering how it would feel directly on his skin. Simon shook his head, no, thy were enemies he couldn’t entertain these thoughts and anyway since when did he thought about Jace like that?

*

They arrived at the camping at around 1pm. Alec and Magnus were already waiting for them. Simon noticed how disheveled both Alec and Magnus looked.

“I don’t say this very often but maybe Jace was right after all.”

Everybody groaned again except for Jace who laughed and high fived Simon. Alec looked at his brother quizzically, arching one of his eyebrows.

“I’ll tell you later.”

“Whatever.”, answered Alec.

*

“Why are you so silent?”, questioned Jace after an hour installing their tent, “I know you’re not really happy to have to share a tent with me but my presence never stopped you from talking before.”

“Maybe I have nothing to say or whatever I have to say won’t interest you so I decided to shut my mouth? And what makes you think I’m not happy to share the same space as you?”

“Simon, you said I was your enemy, I mean, I know were not super close friend or friend at all, we just have friends in common but honestly I didn’t think you hated me that much.”

Simon gaped at Jace he didn’t know what to say and if he wasn’t getting so annoyed at Clary for telling Jace he would have noticed how Jace looked hurt that Simon didn’t saw him as a friend. Simon dropped his tent’s picket and walked to Clary.

“Fray!”, started Simon furiously, “I need to talk to you now!”

Clary looked at him curiously but said, “Sure what’s up?”

“You told Jace I told you we’re enemies!”

“First, I told Isabelle who must have told her brother, second, I don’t know why you care since you hate him so much and lastly if you stopped acting like Jace was some kind of movie villain maybe you would know he thinks you’re great.”

“How d'you know that?”

“Isabelle.”

“Whatever, I’m going back to my tent.”

Simon turned around and walked back to his camping spot. The tent was finished installing and Jace was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey Alec,” called Simon, “have you seen Jace? I went to talk to Clary for like two minutes and he disappeared.”

“I don’t know why you seem to care but he said he was going for a walk.”

“Why wouldn’t I care?”

“Maybe because he thinks you hate him?”

Simon sighed.

“And I’m the one being called dramatic,” mumbled Simon as he decided to go search for Jace.

Simon knew he never been fair to Jace. He never let himself get too close to Jace or trying to really know him because that people who looked like Jace used to bully him in high school. This was stupid, Simon knew this and deep down he also knew that Jace was a good person. He loved his siblings more than anything and he could kill for them. He owned and awesome coffee truck and yeah, maybe Simon should give Jace a chance.

He found him sitting on a rock in front of the lake with a book in his hands. Jace had obviously not heard Simon approaching because he continued reading, Jace looked absorbed by what he was reading and he looked very carefree and handsome at this moment. After a moment, Jace must have sensed Simon creeping on him because he sighed and closed his book and put it back in his backpack.

“You read,” is the first thing that escaped Simon’s mouth.

“Surprised I am not as dumb as you thought, Lewis?”, retorted Jace.

“I never thought you were dumb, I know you are intelligent ”, said Simon, looking at his shoes. “And…well, I wanted to say sorry, I haven’t been fair to you.”

“Oh you think so?”

“Hey! I’m trying to be nice okay, I’ve been an ass to you because you always glare at me or answer sarcastically to everything I say, and you also make me really nervous…and you haven’t been all nice, too.”

“I know I can be an ass sometimes, it’s just I don’t know how to act around you.”

“Why?”, asked Simon incredulously.

“Because-”

“Boys, here you are!”, interrupted them Isabelle.

Jace and Simon turned around to see Isabelle standing a few feet away with her hands on her hips.

“We’re gonna eat soon, so whatever is going on here, talk about it later”, said Izzy as she gave a pointed look to her brother.

Simon looked back at Jace and noticed he was blushing. This conversation would have to wait apparently. He hold up his hand toward Jace.

“Truce?”

Jace shook his hand, “sure”.

Simon smiled and they both followed Izzy back to their camping spot, it’s just before they arrived where the others were that they realized thy were still golding hands. Jace removed his hand from Simon’s like he’s been burned and walked to Alec and sat beside him.

“Here they are!”, exclaimed Clary.

“What were you doing alone in the wood?”, questioned Raphael,  wriggling his eyebrows suggestively

Simon shot him a flat look and decided it was better not answering. Everybody laughed and imitated Raphael. Simon was really friend with a bunch of idiots.

*

It was around 3 am when Simon started to get sleepy. Beer and food tended to do that. He yawned and decided to go to bed. He said goodnight to his friends and he got up from where he was sitting, and wobbled to his tent. He opened the tent door the best he could and crawled inside. He opened his sleeping bag and tried to get as comfortable as you can when you are sleeping on the ground. He closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep. Tried was really the key word here because his brain refused to shut up,  only thinking about Jace and they’re aborted conversation.

After 15 minutes he heard Jace say to their friend that he was tired too and that he was going to bed.

“Tired uh?”, Simon heard Isabelle say.

“Oh shut up Iz!”, exclaimed Jace before zipper of the tent opened and Jace joined Simon inside.

“Oh hey, you’re not sleeping…”

“No, I tried but my brain is fully awake, freaking alcohol,  I get sleepy and super awake at the same time!”

Jace shrugged and removed his t-shirt before laying over his sleeping bag. Simon then realized how close they were. He knew they would be close, they were sleeping in tent, he was not an idiot but he hadn’t realized before how small the tent really was and now that he was laying next to Jace’s gorgeous body it was hard not to think about how there was barely 5 inches between them. Also, Simon wondered when he started referring to about Jace as gorgeous instead of annoying in his mind.

The silence was starting to get on Simon’s nerves because all he could hear was Jace’s deep breathing.

“Can I ask you something?”, Simon asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, what?”

“Earlier, you said you didn’t know how to act around me…I mean, why? I just, I just don’t understand. ”

Jace sighed, he lifted his right arm and he put it under his head. For a long time he stayed silent and Simon thought he would get an answer.

“I don’t know, you’re just always so happy and smiling  and making jokes and well…you know about my past and before the Lightwood adopted me, it’s not glorious and…”, Jace sighed again, “I know you didn’t have it easy either but you don’t let it control your emotions and also you’re a huge nerd, you know a lot of cool fact about everything and you’re very pretty and I don’t know, you intimidate me and I guess it’s easier to be an ass. This way I am sure I won’t be disappointed but in the end I am anyway because you hate me.”

Simon was frozen in place, did Jace had really just confessed his feelings for him, it was impossible but Simon realized at this moment that maybe Jace was not the only one with a crush.

“I think I never heard you talk so much”, finally said Simon trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Jace glared at him in the dark.

“You think I’m pretty?”, asked Simon, beaming because oh my god Jace Herondale had a crush on him and he had a crush on Jace Herondale and he’s been in denial for so long a out what he felt for Jace that he hadn’t realized it before. For a moment Simon wondered if Jace would have confessed his feelings if he was sober.

“Yeah, sorry if you think this is weird, I kinda vomited my feelings on you and this is stupid. ”

Jace tried to turn away from Simon but Simon’s hand on his bicep didn’t let him.

“Can I say something?”

Jace kept his mouth shut but made a noncommittal sound with the back of his throat and let’s be honest, Simon would have talked anyway.

“It’s not stupid Jace,” started Simon looking at Jace dead in the eyes, “you feelings are not stupid and I don’t want you to feel this way.”

Jace huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Hey, I’m being serious.”

“Why do you care anyway? You hate me, I happen to like you, end of the story. I’ll get over it.”

“Jace,” said Simon gently, “we’ve been over this, I don’t hate you, at all. And when I thought I hated you it was for the bad reasons. I already told you, you make me nervous too. I can’t say that I feel the same way you do but I definitely feel something and yes it’s relatively new and I am an idiot and I’ve been in denial for a long time but, I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of exploring what it is.”

“Are you serious?”

“Of course I am.”

“Can we…can we cuddle? Oh god! This sound so stupid.”

“We totally can.”

Simon sat up and motioned Jace to do the same and he opened his sleeping bag.

“Open yours too, we’re gonna zip the together. It will be easier to cuddle this way,” said Simon, smirking at Jace.

After they were settled, Jace lifted his arm and Simon closed the distance between their body and he put his head on Jace’s chest. It felt great. Simon couldn’t believe he was cuddling with Jace Herondale. If someone had told him this would ever happen he would have laughed at their faces.

Simon brought his hand up to Jace’s chest, caressing it gently with the tip of his fingers.

“It feels good”, said Jace.

“Mmm, yeah.”

Simon yawned and fell asleep, followed by Jace soon after.

*

Simon woke up first, during the night they had changed position and Jace’s arms were now around Simon’s waist, holding him tightly and their legs were tangled together. Simon kept his eyes closed until he felt Jace stir up behind him.

“Good morning.”

“Morning.”

Simon stretched his legs and moved his toes.

“Ugh! Quit touching me, your feet are cold.”

Simon laughed and turned around to face Jace.

“Stop complaining and kiss me.”

Jace smiled and gladly obliged.

-FIN-

I hope you enjoyed your reading :)