#every single time they zoomed in on her face for way too long it made me laugh. i love this choice very much lol

[sollucets]

genre: the princess is Plotting Something

[ch4nb4ng]

Stress relief

Pairing: afab!reader x Chan

Word count: 4.5k

Genre: friends to lovers

Warnings: Kissing, mentions of gentalia, handjob, tit job (?), praise, creampie

Note: idk if anyone is actually going to read this because I haven't posted in like 10 months so yeah but rusty but genuinely enjoy writing this so much

Summary: You were a great student, and Chan was struggling, bad. This is what happened when you tried to reduce his stress by 'studying.'

Time was nothing but a mindless construct for you and the many young individuals that attended college. Prestigious or not, it was deep into the second semester of your second year, and if you had to look at one more textbook about a specification type of referencing, you were going to explode. 

Being a psychology major was something you had worked toward for a long time. Having a job that nurtured people back to optimal health and wellbeing was something that always felt nice on the tip of your tongue. Nice to tell people, nice to give to people. That didn’t mean it did not come with its challenges. Researching, literature reviews, group assignments… It was hard and enduring work.

It was helpful that by the end of the first year you had discovered others on the same greuling yet rewarding path. Having a decent support system was essential, especially when traveling to the other side of the world to study. The 4 boys and two girls, who would be named Felix, Changbin, Hyunjin, Chan, Mina and Lia would be the be all and end all for you. Crying together, partying together, doing everything together. Traveling to South Korea was difficult at first. Adapting to the culture and language, so having them by your side got you to where you were today. Life is stressful currently, but then again, things could be worse.

**

“Okay class, this is the last class for the semester, so if you have any questions, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

You listened eagerly, wanting to pick up on any tips or tricks necessary to ace the exam. Cognitive psychology was a piece of cake to you, so this exam was in the bag. The others… not as much. Changbin and Felix were pretty good, thanks to Lia helping them every other day, and Mina only liked to study alone, got too distracted by the lot of you which to be fair, isn’t hard. You were a loud group. Most of the time you studied on your own as well, the occasional time with Felix if he was bored or needed to catch up on notes from readings (and by catching up on notes, basically just stealing yours). But most of your time was spent with Chan. He was good, but always needed a little bit of extra help. He was kind of whisked into psychology, not really sure what he wanted to do. Therefore, Chan had little to no background before coming into the degree.

“Ms, is Piaget theory required for this exam?”

“Tsk, yes Chan,” she replied, much disdain to her tone, “have you not been listening to anything for the past 6 weeks?”

Tiny giggles permeated through the room after the professor's sarcastic response. It made your skin crawl, and not in a good way. It was quite rude if anything. Chan laughed it off as well. He was the type to just laugh things off, but you could tell on his face that he was nothing but serious when asking his question. His ears began to turn red, sinking into his chair simultaneously. 

Luckily the bell rang, and you had never seen someone zoom out of a classroom as fast as Chan did. You chase after him, wanting to make sure he was okay and not feeling completely humiliated. It felt like a marathon, you were very much out of breath by the time you caught up to him. Slapping a hand on his shoulder, he turned around, the unintentional force causing him to face you.

“Jesus christ Chan,” you stumbled, completely out of breath, “why did you have to run so fast?”

You looked, a weak chuckle coming from his lips, a single tear simultaneously dripping out of the corner of his eyes. Your smile faded, beginning to feel really bad for your poor friend.

“Sorry Y/n,” he whispered, wiping it away quickly with the sleeve of his hoodie, “you’ve caught me at a bad time.”

You motioned to the bench next to you, sitting next to him as you rubbed his back in circular motions. Chan was such an intelligent individual, it made you feel sorrow when he doubted himself, and this was one of those moments. 

“Oh Chan don’t even worry about that,” you cooed, “she’s been rude all semester, definitely had a stick up her ass or something because I have no idea what her problem is.”

That made him giggle, turning to you and grabbing your hand as a silent thank you.

“Yeah you're right aha. I’m really struggling with the cognitive stuff though, and I have no idea how I’m going to do this exam.”

The other, who moved at a normal, not heart attack inducing pace, finally caught up to the two of you,lips pouted and solemn as they noticed Chan was having a down moment.

“Aw Chan it’s ok,” Felix hummed, giving him a bright smile, “we will all help you, promise.”

“Yeah,” Changbin chimed in, “let’s have a study session at Chan’s, tomorrow, 3pm good for everyone?”

Everyone nodded in agreement, you and Chan following behind the rest. He grabbed your wrist, making you stop in your tracks, “Y/n, could you come an hour earlier? Just so I don’t sound like a complete idiot? Also, they’re kind of hard to keep up with. I like the way you explain things.”

You’d be lying if you said the skin on your arm was burning up. He didn’t know, too innocent to realize, but his praise had an effect on you, one too many times. You would like nothing more than to take care of him, in all the ways anyone could imagine. Wash his clothes, feed him an insurmountable quantity of food. Was his hair in the shower, lather his body in soap and just, well, you know. The chiseled state of his body was no secret. The many beach trips accounted for that. Chan was a very good looking man, one of the first things you noticed when Felix introduced you to his friends. However, it was something that you suppressed deep down. A romance was the last thing you needed.

 Your cheeks follow a similar temperature. The thought almost made you dizzy. You blinked a couple of times, coming back to your senses and not trying to look out of the ordinary.

“Uh yes,” you shrieked, the attempt to act normal utterly dismissed, “of course. Anything to help you out.”

You continued to walk together, a million thoughts running through your mind as you attempted to keep them subtle, failing to rope them in and keep them at a minimal level.

**

To describe you as nervous was an understatement. Your hairbrush ran through your hair in a frustrating manner. You felt stupid, ridiculous even. If you had a dollar for every time you went to Chan’s dorm, you would be a millionaire, why did this time feel different? Looking at yourself in the mirror, you sighed, putting the last touches of your makeup before grabbing your keys and walking across campus, heading to your ‘friends’ door.

A gentle couple of knocks was all it took for you to be greeted by your handsome friend. His hair was swept back, forehead showing. His outfit was casual, black hoodie, black tracksuit pants. It was nothing different to what he usually wore, but he looked ten times hotter than usual.

“Y/n,” he groaned, “thank god you’re here.” 

He dragged you inside, closing the door behind you. He began to pace back and forth, biting on his fingernails simultaneously.

“Chan slow down, what’s wrong?”

“I opened the textbook, and I can’t stop freaking out. Y/n I’m so stressed, why are you not pacing with me?”

“Because,” you laughed, gripping his forearms stopping him in his tracks, “by the end of the day, you will understand Piaget, and every other theory we need before the exam, okay?”

You were close, eyes piercing as you gave him a loss of reassurance. You weren’t sure if it was your mind playing tricks on you, but it felt like Chan was moving closer. His eyes began to bore into yours, holy fuck he was hot. 

You broke away, not wanting to misinterpret anything. Taking a seat on his couch, you picked up his textbook, scanning and analyzing what he was trying to understand. Chan sat right next to you, thigh distractingly touching yours as you attempted to read. You could feel his gaze over his shoulder. The smell of his cologne flowing into your nostrils, becoming intoxicating. Your frustration began to increase. You knew that you were being unreasonable, but it was like he was trying to seduce you. You were already out of your mind, and nothing in the slightest of being sexual had occurred.

“Chan, I can hear your breathing down my neck.”

“Oh,” he moved away, “sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“Are you sure?”

“What?”

You put the textbook down, turning your body to face him. The look of concern on his face, like the one you were met with when you opened the door had not disappeared. A look of disapproval now on yours.

“Can you please talk to me?”

“What do you want to know?”

“What exactly is stressing you out?”

A large sigh escaped his lips, 

“I just feel like I’m failing. I had to convince my parents to live here instead of Australia, and I just feel like I’m not living up to what they expected.”

Your heart sank at his words. You sat there for two minutes of silence. You weren't sure what you could say that would be perfect and what he needed to hear, but it didn’t mean you wouldn’t attempt to.

“Chan I-”

“And I have other needs as well.”

At first you were confused, completely unsure of what he referred to. Your mind was ticking once again, rummaging to what he referred to. But when it came to your mind, your eyes widened, mouth dropping before you spoke.

“Oh, I get what you mean.”

“Yeah.”

Another couple of minutes of silence passed as you looked around, refusing to make eye contact with each other. An idea popped into your mind, but it was way too inappropriate to ask. You wanted to help him so badly though, a proposition if you will. It was such a fine line to cross. It really was inappropriate, but the innocent look on his face was triggering something in you, sparking your innermost fantasies and desires. 

You don’t know what took over or what in your right mind possessed you to do what you did next, but time moved and all of a sudden you were on top of Chan, arms wrapped around his neck as you looked down at him, like a predator hunting his prey.

“You know, I can help you if you want?”

A large gulp was evident as it paced down his throat. He wasn’t sure what to say, him now analyzing if he himself was being too inappropriate to take you upon your proposition. His hands spread across your rear, gently nudging you forward. He was in unfamiliar territory, not sure how to proceed.

“Did you mean with studying or, you know, my needs?”

The look you gave him was priceless. It was amazing how genuinely oblivious Chan was sometimes. You got up from his lap, saying nothing and walking towards his room. He followed, closing the door behind him, even though nobody else was home.

“Sit on the bed.”

He did as he was told, legs spread wide at the edge. He always sat like this, and it turned you on, every single time. Chan, without knowing it, just looked so cocky, so arrogant, and fuck, did you used to like arrogant men. The ironic thing was that he was the complete opposite. Smart, kind, generous and warm to others. He was probably the only guy that you met that had all the qualities you looked for.

But that was irrelevant now. This moment wasn’t about how likable he was, it was about how hot he was. You took two steps closer, lifting your arms above your head and discarding your shirt. You could hear the audible gasp that escaped his lips, stunned by the way your chest looked. You did not assume that this would happen, therefore the reason why you had no bra on. You stood there, chest inline with his face as he watched you with so much intent. The way he was taking you in, drinking you up like a crisp, refreshing beverage. Chan, not a complete virgin, had little experience. He was a hard worker, never giving into his temptations. If anything, it kind of explained why he was so intense ¾ of the time. Nevertheless, it made your insides throb the way he gazes at you like you were the most beautiful woman on earth.

“If you don’t want this, talk now.”

You waited for what felt like 5 hours, but was really thirty seconds before he shook his head, vigorously. The notion made you smirk. His eyes remained wide, focusing nothing but the curve of your boobs. He went to lift his shirt, thinking it would be the right thing to do seeing as you were half naked yourself. But you said no,grabbing his wrists and placing them on your own zipper. His fingers gently shadowed yours, the sound of the zip the only noise filling the room. Stepping out of them quickly, simultaneously pulling your underwear off as well, another gasp escaped his lips. You were now fully nude, him fully clothed. There was something sick to you about getting off at the fact he was fully dressed and you were the opposite. 

“Like what you see?”

“Mhm,” he gulped once more, “really, really beautiful.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but that wasn’t the time for this. Dropping to your knees, your fingers began to fiddle with the drawstring of his own bottoms. It did take long, seeing as Chan liked to wear very baggy clothes. They came off in one swift motion, spreading his legs even farther apart so you could fit right in. He was already extremely hard, the sight of your tits getting even near his cock made him twitch. Looking up at him, his chest was visibly tense, like he was holding in a large breath.

It wasn’t until your hand gripped the base of his length, and you started pumping, was when his chest fell deeply, almost concave in. His facial expression still looked tense, however, you could tell it wasn’t a look of agony, it was quite the opposite. A small whine escaped from his lips when you added another hand, adding more friction to his cock and you began to pump him a little faster. 

“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath, too embarrassed to allow you to hear his satisfaction. The muscles in his legs and arms were much looser than they were prior, and the fact that you were only using hands was absolutely blowing your mind. Your arousal was increasing. Seeing how pathetic and easy it was to turn Chan on. 

“Is that good Chan?”

“Yes,” he breathed, barely able to get his words out, “that feels so good, fuck Y/n.”

The breathy tone of your name sent a shiver down your spine. It had been a while since someone made you feel like that. You felt like he needed to be rewarded. You maneuvered your body closer, but taking his hands off of his length, placing them on either sides of your chest as you took him in, watching his length slide in the crevice of your tits. Chan jumped out of his seat, jaw slack and dropping to the floor as he watched his extremely hard cock disappear in between your cleavage. Eyes remained on him, your core was throbbing harder, watching his face contour, eyebrows strongly furrowed; he was enjoying every single second of it. Your chest moved with anticipation, tongue sticking out to reach the slit of his tip every time it reached the peak of your cleavage.

“You’re so cute,” you smile, “you’re so pathetic you know, have you ever done this before?”

“No,” he moaned, hands already gripping his bed sheets forcefully, “you’re right, I’m so pathetic.”

“Oh you like that? You like when I take control?”

“Yes.”

“You’re such a good boy,” you coo, picking up your pace, “taking my tits so well aren’t you?” His head rolled back, eyes closed but looking like he was looking at the ceiling. It was almost as enjoyable for you as it was for him. The textures and ridges of your cock not going unnoticed. He felt amazing, and your mouth began to salivate because if he felt that good in between your tits, he would feel 10 times better inside of you. Chan came back to life, head snapping back into motion as he looked down at you, so much innocence yet corruption filled his being. You moved away, hearing the sound of disappointment come from Chan’s lips as you stood up.

Lifting a hand, you pushed him by the chest, laying him flat before crawling on top of him. Still sitting up, you hovered over intertwining your fingers with his and you lined yourself up with his cock. A sudden pang of doubt creeped into your mind. Was this the right thing to do? Did you feel the need to do this to satisfy your own wants and needs? 

“Are you ready for this?”

He said nothing, only nodding because he knew that if he tried to speak, it would come out as a voice breaking murmur. Placing your hand on his shoulder, straightening your back, allowing yourself to sit on top of him. A small moan escaped your lips as your clit landed on his cock. That was fortunate. A hiss escaped him. Chan had been super patient until this point, it kind of made you feel guilty for making him wait. But another part of you kind of loved this almost sick power you had over him. He was so complicit, not doing anything and letting you take control. It felt rare, because most of your previous partners needed to have control.

“Do you mind if I do everything myself?”

His eyes never left yours, biting down on his bottom lip as he shook his head, eagerly waiting for you to get on with it. You lifted your hips once more, taking the hand that was intertwined and bringing it to the base of his length. A moan in unison, one of relief and gratification as he effortlessly slid into you. Chan was a decently hung man, but it didn’t matter anyways. You were already so wet and so turned on that fucking him would be a piece of cake.

“Fuck,” he cursed, eyes glued to your tits as the had a light bounce. You began to gently rock, not wanting to overwhelm him at a rapid rate. This was supposed to be relaxing for him, and it was, feeling his cock already twitching inside of you.

“You’re not going to cum are you?”

You leaned forward, pressing your lips softly against his. The electricity was great, moving with so much attention yet sensuality you slipped your tongue inside his mouth. A soft groan vibrated from his mouth the longer you kissed him. Breaking the kiss, he looked up at you, keen to answer your question 

“No,” you whined, unsure what to do with his hands, “sorry I’m just so excited.”

“You’re excited?”

“Yes,” he replied looking back up at you, “I can lie and say I haven’t thought about this before?”

A mischievous gasp left your mouth at his words. The combination of him thinking about fucking you and actually fucking you was causing your body to heat up. The temperature in the room increased and the tension felt even thicker than before. You kept a slow pace at first, hands on his shoulders in your attempt to remain balanced. It truly was adorable at how into you he truly was in this moment.

“We can do this as many times as you want now baby,” you cooed, “this is only the beginning if you want it to be.”

You picked up speed a little not wanting to go too fast, but needing just enough friction and gratification to work towards your high. Chan was so immersed in you that his hands barely lingered across your hips. It had come to your attention that maybe he genuinely needed some assistance. It was clear that even though the agreement was that his stress relief was in the palm of your hands, it was important to him that for you, it was equally enjoyable.

“You know you can touch me,” you whispered, giving his palms a gentle nudge upwards. It didn’t take much, almost like his hands were in, or on, their most natural position; your tits. A gentle moan escaped your lips at the contrasting ice cold temperature of his fingertips lingering on your nipples. The long string of moans and gasps from Chan was becoming anything but adorable. Each noise he made aroused you even more. The gentle massage of his hands was delightful. It wasn’t the first time you had thought about this. Especially when you were frustrated, stressed, or having a dry spell, the physicality of Chan was always a lingering cognition. Always there to coax you through your sexual frustration. If anything, this became stress relief for the both of you. Chan because he was stressed out because he needed to pass the exam, and yourself because now you didn’t have to suppress the surplus of fantasies and desires that stayed awake in your mind.

“Mmm, how are you doing Chan?”

“So good,” he growled, “I don’t know if I can last much longer.”

A small giggle escaped your lips. Keeping your composure, but really you were grateful because you could feel the pit in the depth of your lower abdomen. Your orgasm was coming, and there was nothing you could do about it. Although you did all the work, his cock was hitting you in the exact spot you needed. The slapping of your ass against his groin was getting louder, and you rhythm faster yet a little erratic, the intensity of him starting to overwhelm you.

“Y/n, wait,” he paused, making you stop in your tracks, “I don’t want to cum in you.”

A pout puffed from your lips at his words.

“You don’t?”

“Well,” Chan gulped, “I would, but I didn’t think-”

Instead of letting him finish, your index finger was across his lips, completely shushing him.

“You shouldn’t assume things about me Mr. Bang.”

You picked your hips up again, leaning back on his knees he bucked your hips, rapidly feeling the strokes of Chan’s cock. You wanted him to cum, you wanted him to cum so badly. The way you were dying to see the face he made when he came, how he looked at you was your soul volition in this very moment. 

“Are you gonna cum?”

“Fuck, Y/n please,” he moaned, his loudest noise yet.

He nodded, jaw slack open as you rode him like your life depended on it. His cock was twitching at a rapid rate, hipe gently bucking into yours as he felt his high coming. 

“Would you like to cum in me?”

He nodded once more.

“Cum in me Chan, cum in me, come one baby, you can do it.”

 Chan mouthing ‘fuck’ one more time, before completely blowing his load inside of you. His jaw cracked, distressed gasp strangling his throat as he grabbed your hips, controlling your speed as you milked him dry, your orgasm waving over you simultaneously. 

“Oh my god,” you moaned, knowing Chan was guiding you through it, but at this point, you didn't even care. It felt too good to discipline him for not letting you do everything. You stood up, a sharp groan coming from you as you felt his seed drip out. 

“Fuck, what if-” 

“Don’t worry,” you interrupted once more, “I’m on the pill.”

A sigh of relief disappeared from his chest.

You lied down next to him, trying to catch your breath as he turned to look at you.

“How do you feel?”

“Y/n that was amazing?”

You chuckled at his admiration, turning to him and seeing the sweat condensate across his forehead. Wow, did you make him work up a sweat.

“Still stressed out?”

“Far from it.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, hope I wasn’t too overpowering or anything.”

“Absolutely not,” he scoffed, “it was really fucking hot actually.”

Fuck. You kissed him again, really enjoying the validation of your feminine power over him. It was a nice moment, that was until you heard a knock on the door. Fuck. The two of you were so immersed in what you were doing, that you completely forgot about the study session with the others.

“Shit, uh, just put your clothes on, I’ll stall them.”

You nodded, quickly redressing yourself and heading to the bathroom. You cleaned yourself up, looking at the mirror and shit, did you kinda look like a mess. A pang of embarrassment hit your chest. How on earth were you supposed to just hang out with your friends, and act like you didn’t just fuck one of them. Nevertheless, there was no time to think about it, fixing your hair as much as you could before opening the door, and returning to the lounge where the others smirked at you when you walked in.

“Hey guys,” you smiled, choosing to ignore them, “what’s going on?”

“What are you already doing here?”

The two of you gave each other a quick look, praying to the lords that you came up with the same explanation.

“Oh me? I only got here like 5 minutes before you guys.”

“Oh you did,” Felix chimed in, sarcastically placing a hand on his chin, like a detective, “and Chan, why do you look almost sweaty?”

“Uh me, well I just had a shower before you guys got here. Then Y/n knocked about 10 minutes later.”

You shrugged, nervously chuckling and just praying they were taking this.

“Fuck Y/n, please,” Changbin whined, mocking Chan. Your eyes grew wide.

“Yeah come on baby, cum in me cum in me,” Felix added, making everyone burst into laughter. Your face was as red as a bunch of tomatoes. They heard everything. Fuck, this was embarrassing.

“You guys don’t have to lie, you know. We saw this coming from a mile away.”

“You did?” The two of you asked in unison, making the rest of them laugh again.

“I mean yeah,” Felix shrugged, “I’m sure this is what all the ‘extra studying’ was for.”

“No dude,” Chan began to yell, even you giggling at him now getting defensive, “I do need help! I’m terrible at this!”

“Is he y/n?”

“Terrible at psych? A little,” you paused, sitting down next to Felix on Chan’s couch, “sex? Absolutely not.”

[waaayoutofline]

Detka It’s Cold Outside

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x F!Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: After being away for some time, you finally return to New York, going straight to visit your best friend, Wanda Maximoff. The hours fly by and you have to return home, a certain someone however has other plans in mind. Inspired by the song Baby It’s Cold Outside because I can’t stop hearing Christmas songs. Word Count: 5267

The harsh cold was unforgiving as you got out of the comfort of the cab, your already freezing hand frozen instinctively clutching your coat tighter. It hasn’t snowed yet, but you were certain that it wouldn’t be too long for the white to cover the entire city of New York. You thanked your father for moving more to the south, where the temperatures were usually warmer.

You weren’t a big city girl per se, being very fond of the countryside with immense lands of green and with way cleaner air. So why are you here, in the city that never sleeps, in the very first place? Well, the answer was rather easy.

The one and only reason was a certain witch called Wanda Maximoff. Your best friend.

With your dad being one of the Avengers, you have always been familiarized with the team of heroes. Accompanying your father on visits to the tower, you became part of the Avengers’ extended family, even having your own room courtesy of Tony Stark.Even if you weren’t really an official superhero, you usually helped on the more technical side of things, often assisting Tony in the lab or even helping with the hacking during info recovering missions (from a safe distance of course, they would never let you close the action).

And then a pair of twins came in. The Maximoffs. They were both your age when they joined the team, so it was natural that all three of you got along fast enough. Pietro, the older of the two, was the most energetic and extroverted, when you shared your video games with him you two became instant best friends.

Wanda, on the other hand, was more reserved. She caught your attention with her deep, dark green eyes and an air of mystery, you even felt a bit intimidated at first. She also seemed the most affected by the loss of her country. The only one she talked to at first besides her brother was to your dad, Clint.

Apparently she felt guilty about joining forces with Ultron and about the whole “inducing your worst fears” in the team's minds. It was that moment where you decided to befriend her, show her that despite the rocky past, she was one more of the team.

So, after a talk with Pietro, you set your plan in motion. As it was rather to approach her directly, you started doing small things. A master baker, you decided to break the ice with a plate of pastries which you made by following the recipe shared by the older twin. Standing outside Wanda’s room, nerves gripped you as you hesitated before knocking.

You remember how you stood on her bedroom door with the plate of cookies for what felt like an eternity, scared that she would take it as an offense or insult or that she wouldn’t like it at all. But before you could keep overthinking, a flash of blue zoomed in front of you, a “knock” sound being the only thing left. You cursed every single insult you had at Pietro as the door started opening.

Your body tensed, head tilting up as Wanda was taller than you. Her eyes landed on you, a perfectly arched eyebrow raising. She seemed cozy, in an oversized red sweater and gray sweatpants, a huge difference from her rather daily clothes.

She is pretty. With long, soft looking brunette locks of hair falling down her shoulders, bright emerald eyes, straight nose and full lips that were usually twisted in a scowl.

“Is there something I can help you with?” she asked. Red quickly got a hold of your cheeks as you realized you had been staring at her without saying a word. You presented her the plate, almost shoving it in her face.

“I made this and…” A stutter was all you let out, not understanding why you were so nervous. “Uh, here. I hope you like them.” With each passing second, you were even more convinced that you were making a fool out of yourself, unable to hold visual contact. When she grabbed the plate, your hands touched ever so slightly. You almost jumped as a spark turned every single nerve to life. Even more startled now, you basically ran off, not knowing what the hell was wrong with you.

Perhaps if you had managed to look at her, you would have seen the same confused expressions, eyes looking at the place where your hands connected. She muttered a small “Thanks,” confusion all over her face.

The next interaction you had was when the team decided to make a “secret friend” to lift spirits. Yours was Wanda. Your mind started working on the perfect gift, wanting to make it memorable, as both twins weren’t familiar with such things. It was only when you were in the common room, bored out of your mind while waiting for the debrief to be over, that your eyes landed on the stack of movies on the coffee table. They were organized by genres, and an empty slot caught your attention. Taking a closer look, you noticed that the missing one was an old sitcom.

Huh. If your suspicions were correct… “Hey, Friday. What sitcom is missing, and who borrowed it?”

“It seems that the missing sitcom is the season 3 of Bewitched. Ms. Maximoff took it one week ago, Ms. Y/L/N.” You grinned, quickly thanking Friday before grabbing your jacket and bag.

Days later, you were basically buzzing with restless energy as you waited for the gift opening to start. Not for receiving your gift, but for seeing Wanda’s reaction. Steve, however, wasn’t helping as he was the one picking the packages and handing them to their owners. You groaned each time he didn’t grab yours. You were so focused on that, that you jumped when a gift was pushed into your hands. Oh, right.

It was small, but you got an idea of what it could be. “Final Fantasy VII! Thanks, Aunt Nat!” You beamed, giving a quick hug to the redhead spy. She patted your head. “But…the release isn’t until a month from now…How did you-?”

“Oh well, a spy can never reveal her secrets, kid.” She winked.

The next gift were given. Your dad got what seemed like a pack of blankets and cushions, Tony shrugged saying that it was so he wouldn’t get cold when he decided to sleep on the vents. Your dad grumbled that “it was only one time”, making everyone laugh. Bruce got a new oversized pair of pants, Thor a lot of Pop Tarts, Natasha a new set of daggers and so on. It kept going on until Wanda had her gift on her hands. Your heart started thrumming in your rib cage as she started ripping the paper rather delicately.

Her eyes widened with surprise when she finally saw the contents – the entire series of Bewitched. Her eyes lit up, corners of her lips lifting. The sight made you feel warm all over. Everyone seemed to hold their breath as the girl finally showed her emotions so freely. She looked at you. “Thanks, Y/N,” she said honestly. You returned her smile shyly.

“Good job, Kiddo,” your dad muttered, patting your shoulder. He seemed to be rather fond of Wanda, as you knew he helped her during the fight at Sokovia. He was a softie.

You hummed happily for the rest of the day, glad that your gift was a success. You were about to go to your room when a voice stopped you. “Y/N, wait.” Wanda called out. You complied, suddenly nervous. The girl never went to you so directly.

“I wanted to thank you for the gift. How did you…” She started playing with the rings on her fingers. A nervous habit of hers. “Know that I like Bewitched?” You smile a bit.

“Well, I noticed that the third season we had went missing, and Pietro once mentioned that you loved sitcoms, so…” She nods. A few moments of silence went, and you saw a glint of hesitation on her face. So you smiled reassuringly, wanting her to trust you.

“That makes sense. Thank you, again. I loved it.” Another pause. “Well, I won’t keep you up any longer; it’s getting late.” You nodded, slightly disappointed. For a moment, you thought that… never mind.

“You’re welcome, Wanda. I’m happy you liked it.” And with that, you start walking away, but you hear a sharp breath intake.

“Wait!” A hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You looked down, dumbfounded. Her hand was rather warm, while yours were usually cooler. It surprised you how nice it felt.

You turned around to look at the taller girl, who seemed almost as shocked at her own action. Perhaps it was the lights, but you could swear you saw a hint of pink on her ears. “I um…” It was the first time you saw her without her neutral, composed demeanor. You wanted to release a giggle at how adorable it was, but held it as you saw the already struggle in her eyes. Wanting to assure her, you looked up at her with patience and an easy going smile.

“I was wondering that… maybe, well, we could, uh…” She closed her eyes in frustration before opening them again and taking a deep breath. “Maybe we could watch the first episode together?” She finally let out. Your heart broke a little at the insecure look in her troubled emerald eyes, her body prepared as if expecting a blow. Like she was ready for the worst. Not wanting her to be in that state any second longer, you quickly answer.

“I’d love to.” You say softly and almost immediately her demeanor changes.

“Oh…you would?” She asks again. So you just nod and tug her along to her room, hands still intertwined until both of you realize it later on.

Ever since that, you and Wanda have been inseparable, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You two spend most of the time together, always talking about everything and anything, and in a year, there wasn’t a single person on this earth that knew you better than the brunette. Even Pietro faked jealousy over how close you two were. You three became a force to reckon with around the tower, as you slowly convinced Wanda to trust the other and let her guard down to the point where she truly felt like she belonged. Of course, sometimes you fought over silly things, but not even then did you two stay far from each other for long. For both of you, communication was key. Especially after your biggest fight. Wanda was still wounded from her past, and she had some abandonment issues that she was currently treating with her psychologist. So after you stormed off, she retreated in herself, becoming cold and harsh for the following week, which hurt you just as badly in return. So after that, you two had a long talk so it would never happen again. That way, your friendship grew even stronger, and you two became even closer.

So close, in fact, that along the way, you began to perceive her as something… more. The connection felt deeper, more intricate, and a tension manifested in every lingering touch, longing gaze, and shared pet name. It wasn’t one-sided; you could sense the same desire reflected in her deep, emerald eyes. But both of you were afraid of the consequences. To stuck with the “what-ifs”.

A relationship could put your friendship in jeopardy. Both of you were hesitant to risk it. The idea of loosing Wanda send a pang of pain through your chest, you couldn’t bear to loose her. And she couldn’t either.

So that’s where you two stood now. In the center of a blurry line that stood right in the middle of friendship and romantic tension. For now, you just were excited to see her. It was the first day of winter break and you begged Aunt Natasha to bring the jet to fly you all the way back home. Back to her.

Natasha, with both being your aunt and a spy, easily found out about your pining. According to her, she realized it before you. And after that, she teased you endlessly but still accepted your petition without question.

“You know, I think you should tell her.” You sigh, packing up your things. She was currently leaning on the doorframe of your dorm. “That girl has it bad for you just as much, I see it everything her eyes land on you.”

“Aunt Nat…it’s not that easy.” She rolls her eyes, approaching you.

“I swear your generation is so dramatic. Listen,” She grabbed your shoulders, gently but firmly turning you around. “ You are the most wonderful girl I’ve ever met.” You open my mouth to make a sassy remark but she glares at you, “And no, no because your my niece and I’m biased. You are kind, loyal, compassionate and just so… so selfless.” I look down for a second, not being able to hold her caring stare. But she tilts my chin up. “You would give everything of yourself in exchange if nothing for the ones you care. That scares me.”

“Why?” I nervously laugh, “Isn’t that something good?”

“Yes, but it can also be detrimental if the ones you give yourself to aren’t there when it matters or unwilling to reciprocate even half of it. But with Wanda, when I see the way she is with you? I just know that she would complement you perfectly. I see how much she cares, how much you matter to her. That’s all I want for you, to find yourself a perfect half.”

“I can’t risk it, Tasha. I just can’t,” you finally blurt out, stepping away while releasing a deep breath. “Relationships are messy, complicated. Most of the time, they end in disaster. It’s not worth it if I end up without her at all.” Your voice cracks on your last words. She looks at you before backing off, not wanting to pressure but not quite giving up.

“I’ll wait outside your dorm.” I nod, faking to be occupied. There is a beat of silence before she speaks up.

“Well, I think that sometimes,” she says, “the risk is worth it. Even if just to open ourselves up to what we truly deserve. You’re a wonderful person, Y/N. Don’t deny yourself happiness for the sake of uncertainty.”

***

The blare of cars in the street brings me out of the memory. You sigh, knowing that Natasha was right. “She frustratingly always is,” your dad usually answered. But for now, you push all of that away, focusing on the moment at hand. You will finally see her.

Sure, the two of you did constant videcalls but it wasn’t the same. You could see her, but you couldn’t touch her. You two couldn’t cuddle, you couldn’t smell her perfume or hear her precious laugh. You couldn’t gift her a batch of just out of the oven cookies and she couldn’t give you a plate of her paprikash. You couldn’t hold her hand or bask in the security of her arms when either one of you were upset.

But that was about to change as you pushed the door of the tower, immediately heading for the lift. “Welcome home, Ms.Y/L/N” You smile at the familiar voice. “Heading for the 7th floor I assume?” Your furrow your eyebrows.

“¿Yes…? How do you know Friday? Don’t tell me that Tony upgraded you to read minds.” Friday laughs, or what you think the sound is meant to be at least.

“It’s the floor where Ms.Maximoff currently is.” Great. Now even the IA teases you about your crush.

It feels forever until the doors open, letting you almost run towards were you assumed Wanda would be. According to Aunt Nat, she took a liking to the bartender gig and has been trained by the redhead. It was a way to keep herself occupied.

The lights were warm and low, soft music creating a gentle atmosphere. The song was an oldie, surely chosen by Steve. Everything was just as you remembered, the only thing missing was the crowd of people that were invited over by Tony when he threw a random party. It was a gorgeous place,really. The lavish penthouse showcased a modern sophistication that held polished marble floors and a panoramic view of the city skyline, which added a touch of grandeur to the space. Plush, stylish furniture provided comfort seating areas alongside a large bar that followed the same color scheme with dark wood paneling.

And just beyond that, a truly captivating sight awaited. Wanda Maximoff adorned in a crisp white button-up shirt, effortlessly combining elegance with a laid-back vibe. The tasteful roll-up of the sleeves offered a tantalizing glimpse of the toned arms concealed beneath, your mouth went momentarily dry as your gaze lingered in admiration.

The immaculate shirt was tucked into the tailored black slacks, connected by a set of red suspenders completed her ensemble that absolutely didn’t have your head riling. The pants appeared to keep a perfect balance between comfort and style, maintaining a sleek silhouette that enhanced the overall allure of her athletic figure.

As if attuned to your gaze, her eyes locked onto yours. A smile played on her red lips, and in that moment, the chill that surrounded you vanished, replaced by an intense warmth that surged through you, igniting you like a Christmas tree. As Wanda Maximoff drew nearer, striding with a catwalk-like confidence, her tousled brown locks falling gracefully over her shoulder, and a mischievous grin adorning her face as she practically sized you down, nothing but sinful thoughts enveloped your mind.

“Hey, stranger,” she greets lazily. Over time, her English has improved, but a lingering accent still remains, which drives you crazy as you absolutely love it. Do you have a thing for accents? Perhaps. Or maybe it’s just Wanda’s. You immediately jump into her arms, eliciting an “ooof” from her. She looks down at you, a mixture of amusement and warmth in her eyes before she warmly returns the embrace.

It took time for her to open up emotionally and even more to accept physical affection like this. The first time you hugged her, she remained frozen and awkwardly patted your back. You stifle a laugh at the memory. She looks at you suspiciously.

“What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing. Just remembering how awkward you were the first time we hugged,” you answer mischievously, your words slightly muffled against her neck. “And look at you now, holding me like a koala.”

She rolls her eyes with a playful smile. “Well, with you being clingy, I was bound to end up like this.” You gasp at her teasing, separating enough to look at her.

“Well, I don’t see you complaining.” You shot back.

“That never.” She answers with a big grin and you just prat at whatever is out there that loud pounding of your heart doesn't reach her ears.

“I missed you, Wands. “ You say almost breathless.

“I missed you more, Y/N/N.” You are about to deny such a statement but she steps back, grabbing your hand and pushing you along.

“Now c’mon, we have to catch up. And if you behave good enough, I’ll show you my awesome bartender skills.” You sighed at her antics with a hopeless smile, gosh did you miss her.

The time went as usual when the two of you were together, flying. You told her all about your classes, complaining about teachers and group projects and subtly mentioned that no one caught your eye. She told you all about her missions, complained about Pietro and the teams bickering and subtly mentioned that no one caught her eye either. You quickly extinguished the small flame of hope that lit up in the back of your mind.

Before you knew it, it was already 9 PM, your phone came to life with a message from your mother to ask you when you were going home. Your family had a house in New York that you usually wnety to when approaching Christmas so it was easier to have dinner with everyone.

“Ugh, I should start going. I promised my mom that I would be there. Apparently, the little ones miss me,” you confess, even if you really didn’t want to leave Wanda’s side at all.

She whined too, looking at you with exaggerated puppy eyes, “But detka, it’s cold outside.” You blush at the nickname; you didn’t know what it meant as Wanda never really told you, but you had a vague idea.

“I loved spending the evening with you; I really missed it,” you mention, resting your left cheek on top of your arms which were crossed on the bar. Wanda was in front, leaning over after she did an exaggerated demonstration that almost cost her two bottles of expensive rum.

“Me too. I wasn’t sure if you’d dropped in at all, so it was a great surprise,” Wanda says softly, emerald eyes gleaming under the warm lights. “It was nice of you; I bet you are tired from the jet.” You shrugged her off.

“Please, like a bit of fatigue and below-zero temperatures are going to stop me from seeing my favorite girl,” you slip out, immediately regretting the cocktail from before. Before you know it, she grabbed your hand with a gentleness that always left you quivering. As always, her hands were extremely warm compared to yours.

“How can it be that your hands are still this cold?” She wonders, playing with your fingers, which send chills all the way up your arm. The tension that surrounded you both felt heavier, the electric beat of the jazz music wafting in the air alongside your breaths.

You were stalling. You both knew that.

“My mother will start to worry…” you mention, but still not making a move to leave the high chair.

Wanda hums, still playing with your hand. “And soon enough, Clint will start pacing the floor.” She adds. You chuckle to yourself.

“He is protective.” You say in response. The crackling of the fireplace and the gentle caresses of Wanda made you almost sleepy. “So I’d better start leaving.”

“You don’t have to hurry though,” Wanda protests. You both were soaking in each other’s company, looking at each other as if it were the first time. “Especially in this weather… Besides, I missed you.”

Your insides melted. “Maybe just a half drink more. And when I finish, I leave.” She instantly perks up, and you can almost see a wagging tail.

“Great! I’ll put some records on while I pour.” She beams, removing her hands that were previously doing sopothing circles on your wrist. You almost let out a whine of discontent. With grace shee went to the vintage record-player, the first familiar notes raising into the air. You gave her an amused smile.

“It’s been a long time, really? Looks like someone stole old Steve’s playlist.” You tease, watching her as he does a show of pouring two drinks. She shrugs.

“I have to say it has grown on me.” She confesses, “Besides, it fits the occasion, don’t you think?” Wanda pushe the drink towards you as you arch an eyebrow.

“And then they say I’m the dramatic one.” You tease back, but she looks at you with seriousness.

“Well, it has been too much time apart for you, Y/N. I missed you greatly.” You can't help but flush at her honesty, her words hitting you like a train. She really did miss you, maybe even just as much as you did. The days were slower and less tasteful without Wanda Maximoff, that is a fact.

“You had Pietro to keep you company though.” You joke, not being able to hold the intensity of her irises. She tsks, not fully convinced.

“He has been extremely hyper lately as he knew you were to return. I am accustomed to his antics because I'm her sister, the mystery is how are you able to keep up with him.” You laugh at that. It was true that Pietro was a force to not subestimate, usually he pulled you along with his jokes and mischievous plans that usually landed you some well deserved consequences.

“Talking about him, where is he?” Wanda shruggs, and you haven’t even realized that she moved to sit next to you.

“He is in his room, Cap forced him to study the blue prints of the Hydra’s base the team has to infiltrate tomorrow after he rushed into the last one without any care.”

“Ah, that sounds likely of him.” You nod.

“…And maybe I told him that you would be back tomorrow.” She adds without making eye contact. You arch an eyebrow, an amused smirk tracing on your lips. It grew even bigger when Wanda's ear tips grew redder.

“Aw, Miss. Maximoff wanted me all to myself?” You tease. “How naughty of you.” It is clear that you are having a good time with the confession, but she doesn’t let you have the high ground for long.

“And so what if I did, Ms.Y/N?” Wanda dares before leaning slightly closer, her voice dropping an octave and her Sokovian accent wrapping around each word, her raspiness accompanying the sudden darker eyes that reminded you of deep oaked forests. It was a bold movement.

Wanda was dipping her toes on the enchanted waters that went beyond the safe land of the concept of friendship.Your body tensed as the lovely scent of pine and ivy reached your nose. You could swear you could feel the warmth of her body, you did always joke that she was a humane furnace. Your stomach tightened as droplets of liquid heat pooled in earnest.

Still, a sudden calmness came right after with the familiar scent and presence, as if all your defenses and tensions of the past few months evaporated just like that. You cough, hoping that she isn’t allowed to the red on your cheeks.

“Say, what it’s in this drink?” You say when you sip on it, the sweet taste invades your pupils alongside a tinge of sourness. Trying to clear the air, as you could feel like you couldn’t breath.

It was good. She plays dumb. “Well, let’s just say that there are no cabs to be had out there with that weather.” You giggle when she raises her eyebrows suggestively, endeared that she doesn’t want you to go.

“I missed your eyes,” the brunette blurts out, and you almost choke on your drink. “They are so lively. I swear they get lighter when you’ve had just one drop of alcohol. They are like magic.” Your heart beats in your chest once again, threatening to spill over.

And for a second, you want to scream. Yell at her for acting like this, for saying things like this that make your love for her grow like ivy on the crumbled walls of a ruin. Reproach her that it’s not fair, this grip she has on your sanity that you know will drive you to madness. Yell at her some more for being so charming and gorgeous and—God! What you wouldn’t do to just lean in and—Nuh, uh. Alarms blare in your mind. No, no, no, sir.

Deep breath, Y/N. Deep breath.

“I should at least try to leave, y’know,” you murmur, still shaken. She fakes a shotgun to her heart.

“Aw, but I thought you loved my company? Why are you hurting my pride like this, Y/N?” A wholehearted laugh escapes you at her theatrics.

“You have spent too much time with Pietro.” She nods, sipping on her own drink as you drop yours on the counter. “But I really can’t stay. I just know Lila will grow up to be all suspicious or something; she is reaching that age where everything is a soap opera. And I promised Nathaniel that I would help him with his science project.” You start to get up, stretching after being sat for so many hours. Wanda quickly follows.

“But look at the blizzard! It is not safe for you to be outside, detka. You’ll freeze out there.” Your eyes left her for the very first time that evening to look at the window and indeed, snow was starting to fall. But you would exactly call it a “blizzard”. But…it’s not like you were an expert on the weather, right?

You give her a playful shove, “You are very pushy you know? There is bound to be talk tomorrow.”

“I like to think of it as opportunistic. Besides, tomorrow you’ll spend it with your family and I’ll have to go to that annoying recon mission. We won’t see each other at all.” She practically whines, and your are amazed at her sudden clinginess.

Sure, once she was comfortable with you she became more relaxed, but there was something different this evening. From the way she stood close next to you, the way her eyes looked at you as if she couldn’t believe what she saw, that way she had to keep her hands on you “so you don’t catch pneumonia and die or something”.

The air was crackling. It’s like she had something in mind. Oh, how you wish you had her abilities to read her thoughts. Wanda may have opened to you, but there was this aura of mysteriousness that always fascinated your curious nature.

“Here, let’s dance a bit shall we?” She offers a hand. You look at it and then to her face. It was bright with hope. The words of Natasha echoed in your mind, and an invisible force made your own hand raise and intertwined it with hers. With a laugh, you two positioned in the stance. Your left arm on her shoulder, her on your waist after she insisted on leading because “I’m taller, you know this already Y/N”. You mentally thanked Steve for making you all take some sanding lessons to show oyu what “true dancing is”.

Your faces were close, so you were able to see her perfectly. From the greenish hue of her eyes that were kissed with specks of silver, to the faint freckles on the bridge of her nose, to the dimples on her cheeks, her bright smile, the little scar on her lower chin. No matter how many times you have seen her, it always seemed to feel like the first time. She was analyzing you too, but you were just basking on her attention, the jazz and cracking of the fire being the only thing that could be heard. Beside your pounding heart, at least.

Taking a deep breath, you let all the anxieties and fears leave and disappear in the darkness of the night to never return, at least for the rest of the night. Your head lands on her shoulder as you both sway softly with the rymth, eyes fluttering at the warmth of her skin and smell of roses from her shampoo. It was comforting, familiar, safe.

The thought of returning to the freezing streets made you shiver.

“Okay fine, just another drink.” You mumble after a while. You feel her hands around you twitch before securing you, as if you were to disappear or be stolen away by a mysterious force.

She lets out a warm, rich chuckle. “That took a lot of convincing.”

[graylinesspam]

One of these days Ahsoka was really gonna have to confront the fact that explosions were very high up her list of strategies. And wasn't that a bit dramatic?

---

Or basically the jailbreak scene from THE suicide squad but make it Star Wars.

His metal caf cup fell to the floor with a clatter, the last swig of cold liquid staining the floor. Cody’s heart was in his throat. Obi-wan’s face shone on the other side of the blue holoprojection; shock in the part of his mouth.

No one else in the room was moving, consumed by the advertisement being played by the holo-table. The foreground showed a pyke flanked by two Black Sun operatives. The Pyke was moving his hand in beckoning gestures as he droned on in his guttural language. Translations scrolled across the bottom of the screen.

And in the background of the video, slowly making her way to the center of attention as the recorder zoomed in, was Ahsoka, suspended from the ceiling in electric shackles. Her long red dress had been torn to tatters and her head hung limply.

One of the Black Suns gripped her by the back lek and yanked her head back so that the camera could capture her unconscious face. One eye was swollen shut and there was blood smeared in an indiscernible pattern across her face. In this low definition, it was hard to tell where she was wounded. Her face was almost misshapen from the swelling.

More text scrolled across the screen as the Pyke jabbered on in what counted as excitement for their species.

Cody’s fist slammed onto the table disrupting the holo in a waving blue blur. “They’re auctioning her?” he demanded.

Obi-wan’s hands had tucked themselves into his sleeves to hide the fact that he was gripping himself by the elbows. “So it seems,” he replied in a strained manner.

“We cannot let this happen.” Cody insisted. Several of the men surrounding them made noises of agreement.

“I’m afraid, as Ahsoka is no longer a member of the military, We’ll need council approval, even the Chancellor’s approval to use military powers to retrieve her.”

“Sir, you know as well as I do that there's no way we’ll be able to stop the vode from going after her. If we don’t organize this, it will happen anyway, and the loss could be greater.”

“I know that Cody. I’ll contact the council. See if I can appeal to them.”

The rescue of Ahsoka Tano was not a mission that was easy to sell. The council was torn between guilt for turning on her and bitterness that she left them. Several times the matter was almost sent higher up the chain for senate approval. But ultimately it was the amount of information that she possessed that turned their minds.

Coming off of the mess with Quinlin and Ventress they certainly did not want Dooku to get his hands on another highly trained jedi with a vendetta against the order. The kind of Sith that Ahsoka could make sent a shiver of dread down the backs of every Jedi master.

She had been a premiere padawan. A prodigy in terms of combat skill and the development of her own inherent ability. For another member of Yoda’s impressive lineage to fall to the dark side.

It would be a disaster. And it would do considerable damage to Obi-wan and Anakin.

And that was before considering the amount of information she had about the Republic’s military movements, their bases, hyperspace routes, tactics, and supply routes. She may be able to single-handedly topple the war in their enemy’s favor.

So the council ruled in favor of rescuing Ahsoka Tano. What they planned to do with her afterward was to be seen.

They had to find her first. Tracking the transmission was useless. Black Sun was too clever for that. But they could track all the major recipients of that broadcast. Money began changing hands. They were following the transactions as they were set in motion. It seemed everyone from flesh traders to Trandoshan hunters were bidding on her. She made a lot of enemies in her short time in the galaxy. And even more admirers which was never a good thing when you were a beautiful young woman.

Everyone could tell, however, that the auction was stalling. They were waiting to see if the separatist or the Republic would put a bid in. It was unlikely that the Republic could get the authority to do so in time, even if they were inclined to. But the separatists, at least the leader of the movement, Count Dooku, was able to make whatever decisions he saw fit with his own finances.

The splicers tracking the broadcast and splicing through the Pike’s network thanked every star in the galaxy that the separatists were dragging their feet, since it gave them more time to find her.

The puzzle piece that busted open the case was an old report of Blacksun scavengers harassing ships exiting the Kessel run. They’d been pursued by authorities and were chased back to a small base on the planet Randa. An uninhabited little rock in the Kessel system not far from Ord Mantel.

It took some digging to find proper aerial photographs from that planet but when they did the base was clearly visible.

It wasn’t much more than a duracrete box from what they could tell, but it would do fine to hold a hostage for a long period of time.

With even more long needless debates happening amongst the jedi and the Admirals Cody had his men gearing up for the extraction. Master Windu had briefly argued that his clones were far better trained in infil and exfil but a soft word from Ponds silenced him on the matter.

Absolutely no clone out of blue armor would have been able to talk their way into this mission if it hadn’t been Cody. The 501st were currently deployed deep in the belly of the war. It was the only way they would have been occupied enough to miss this. And as much as he was grateful for that, Cody would never be able to look his brother in the face again if he didn’t personally go to retrieve his vod’ika.

Besides, they didn’t want to waste any more time waiting for an elite squad. If Cody, as the marshal commander, was not elite enough for this mission, then he should hang up his helmet. He was going to bring Ahsoka home, no matter what.

Ahsoka woke to a terribly loud buzzing. Electricity always grated on her hearing when it was exposed so closely to her montrals. She was also displeased to notice that both her arms were asleep and her back burned in a way that indicated strain.

She cracked her eyes open as far as the swelling would allow. The room she was in was dimly lit but for the holocamera shining a searing beam of light directly into her eyes. She winced at that and her movement caught the attention of whoever was holding her here. A Pyke, with a big ugly gold helmet, was chittering at her in its unpleasant language. It chortled a little laugh as it leaned close and grasped her chin, tilting her face for the recorder.

She sneered at the foul little thing and tried to pull her head back.

It retaliated with a swift punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of her.

Ahsoka wheezed as she struggled to draw in air but it gave her a minute to asses her surroundings too. There was one more sentient in the room, a big burly guard with black sun tattoos on his neck. Just two then.

Ahsoka jerked in her restraints and snarled as soon as she had the air in her lungs to do it with.

The Pyke stepped close again to taunt her in a language she didn’t speak, she took the opportunity to sweep the feet out from under the short creature and send him sprawling to the ground. Disoriented from the water in his helmet moving so abruptly, he had no defense ready when Ahsoka slammed the heel of her stiletto into the glass eye of the helmet and shattered it, she could feel her shoe skewer soft flesh beneath and as he struggled away he broke the heel from her shoe leaving it lodged into his face.

She’d been leaning down to concentrate on the creature on the floor but as the bigger thug approached, Ahsoka bent at the knees and lept gaining height on the tall thug as he lunged to grab her by the neck. His open hand ineffectually collided with her chest as her legs wrapped around his torso and brought him in close to her body. At this distance and from this height it was no problem for her to aim for the black smudge of a tattoo over his windpipe and clamp down on it with her teeth.

A Togruta’s teeth were nothing to scoff at. Ahsoka tore the tattoo right off his neck and took a sizable chunk of flesh with it. As the second man dropped to the ground Ahsoka spat out her mouthful grimacing at the taste.

Taking a moment to gather herself she toed off her strappy heels with a bit of a struggle. Formal attire was not ideal clothing for a kidnapping.

With her bare feet she stretched her toes out to the still writhing Pike’s side and slammed her heel into his ribs, he collapsed down from his knees to his side once more and Ahsoka awkwardly stepped onto the little collection of buttons and lights on his wrist, rolling the pressure of her foot around until she pressed the right button and her bindings dropped her unceremoniously to the ground.

Once there she could slam her cuffed hands down onto the Pike’s face once again disorienting him and buying her time to retrieve the bindings key from the Black sun’s now dead body. Hands freed and swiping a blaster off the waistband of the idiot who hadn’t bothered to draw it on her Ahsoka aimed it at the Pyke’s head and finally put his writhing to an end.

She didn’t know where she was or how she’d gotten there. So she went over the information that she did know. She’d been attending a gala last she remembered. Then she woke up here, with a Pyke and a black sun. Oh and a recorder.

Ahsoka glanced back up at it unsure if she was still in frame or not.

Oh well, it isn’t like she’s never had an audience before.

Black Sun operatives almost never work alone. There’s got to be at least one more. Probably closer to five if this was a high-profile job where they’d been hired by the Pikes

So she readied her blaster as she slammed her hand onto the door’s sensor pad. Two guards stand on the other side of the door and Ahsoka has to fire on both of them before the door has finished opening. Both struggle to reach for their weapons before jerking violently and collapsing to the floor.

She’s no sharpshooter so it takes a couple of shots each to put them down even at this close range. She shoves down the familiar frustration at being left without her preferred weapons. There are probably countless guards and gang members left between her and the exit. And now there’s been blasterfire, so she has to move quickly.

Ahsoka shoves through the next door and into a short hallway; the grey stone walls dim but for a light at the end. When she reaches the end she realizes the light is coming from above. She is in a small atrium with windows over her head and connecting hallways in all directions. She takes a step back towards the hall she just exit and counts the others. Four plus hers makes five. Which way does she go?

That question quickly starts to matter less than the pound of boots on the ground towards her. The sounds echoed from all around her; impossible for her to tell what direction they were coming from.

She retreats further back towards the other guards that she killed and pilfers their blasters off of them as well. She’s far outnumbered here and she’ll need all the plasma power she can muster.

She settles down beside the open door, hoping to use this short hallway as a choke point. There are no other ways into the area outside of her cell, if they wanted to come get her they’d need to converge here.

She didn’t need to wait long before thugs started to enter her hall with their blasters already drawn.

Ahsoka leaned around the doorway and opened fire into the hall. Several enemies dropped to the ground bleeding or dead, and several more retreated back into the wider atrium to escape. As they ducked away Ahsoka made sure to fire again at those downed to make sure they’d stay that way.

These kinds of stalemates, the ones where both sides would wait for the other to peak out, they wasted time. The last thing she needed was to give them the time to call in reinforcements until she really was overwhelmed.

She needed a quick way to break out of here. Ahsoka looked down at her blasters and had a terrible idea. Thinking quickly she removed the power pack and the gas canister from one of the blasters and just a power pack from another. Gas canisters were almost indestructible from the outside They were as tough as beskar. You couldn’t even shoot one to explode it. But nonetheless, the gas inside was highly reactive. All blasters came standard with surge and shock protection to keep the power pack from accidentally igniting them.

But she’d seen before, mostly empty or defective gas canisters get off gassed so they could be disposed of without accidentally exploding anything. It was one of the more dangerous responsibilities of owning a blaster. If you screwed it up at all your face could be burned off.

Ahsoka scooted closer to one of the downed guards and retrieved a pair of binders from his belt She stripped the insulation from the connector point of both power packs and pressed the exposed metal together, immediately an acrid metallic smell began to fill the air. She secured the two pieces together with one cuff of the binders.

There were boots approaching her again and Ahsoka had to use the last blaster to shoot the approaching mirilian down.

She retreated again before the enemies retaliating blasts could hit her.

She quickly retrieved the firing pin from the disassembled blaster and carefully pressed it into the nozzle of the gas canister. The smell of gas is strong enough that she has to hold her breath as she clamps the other end of the binders around the canister.

The power pack has burned through the first layer of metal now and any moment it will spark into an electrical fire. She has to throw her little bomb as far down the hallway as she can.

She takes a steadying breath before reeling her arm back and leaning into the doorway, She force propels it as far as she can, over the heads of the thugs and down an opposing hallway. Dodging the next spattering of bolts Ahsoka throws herself to the ground and crawls quickly back toward her cell, The metal door squeaks as she slams it shut behind herself and scrambles even further into the room.

The explosion is sudden and spectacular. She’d been on battlefields with shells hitting the ground from aerial strikes and from cannon armaments. But this? This is like a volcanic eruption. A molten hot wave of air wrecks everything around her. The metal door is blown off its hinges.

It takes her time to right herself. The air is thin from the explosion eating up all the available oxygen and she’s grateful to the skylight she’d seen earlier, it’s likely been blown clean off and letting the atmosphere rush back into the space where it’d all been eaten up.

Her dress, formerly wide and flouncy and crimson red had been singed in a strange way making the outermost layer melt in on it’s self and shrink. And the color had been streaked with black at the knees from touching the floor.

In fact, all surfaces have been thoroughly singed. Black carbon scaring mar the stone around her. The dead bodies she’d left behind have been blown apart and burned black. Even the ground is too hot to touch. So Ahsoka scurries over to where she can see a pair of boots, whose feet are still laced in them.

She can hunt bare foot just fine but the ground would singer her feet if she tried, so she resigns herself quickly to the borrowed boots.

When she walks back through the doorway, what’s left of the atrium and the surrounding hallways is just a crater. There’s nothing left here that could even resemble a weapon. It’s the sight of the fallen walls and the exposed rock that finally reveals to her that she’d been underground this whole time.

She continues through the wreckage into what appears to be another hallway, long this time with proper metal prison cells lining the walls. From one cell ahead a black sun operative jumps out with his blaster drawn on her. Ahsoka reacts quickly grabbing his arm aiming it to the side and punching him squarely in the nose. As his head reels back she realizes how young he is. 15 maybe 16. He drops his blaster out of surprise and pain. She takes pity on the kid and slams him into the cell door jarring him terribly. She swipes the knife from his belt and throws him in, slamming the bars shut.

Acquiring another blaster was somewhat advantageous even if this pathetic little pistol had such low plasma power. And not a moment too soon as another armed thug rushed into the hallway. Unfortunately, he also looked very young.

That bleeding jedi heart would get her killed one of these days.

She grabbed the barrel of her own blaster with her non-dominant hand and used the other to grab him by the firing arm. She turned her body yanking him into her back and slammed her elbow into his face. When he dropped his blaster she reared her arm back and slammed the butt of her blaster into his head. Then she rolled him into the cell beside the other, who was hissing and spitting at her.

She was looking for the exit now. Ready to get the hell out of this fuckin pit.

She rushed out into the next room and found it was a hoard. Crates were piled in the center with various valuable-looking goods stacked atop them. Ahsoka thought she saw some vibroblades and even some fancy rifles. What caught her attention in the worst way was the wookie pelt. Laid out like an akul pelt. Sadness rose in her as she stepped closer.

Laying across the spread pelt was something else. It was long and made of Wroshyr wood from Kasyyyk. She could tell by the color and the pattern of the grain. On both ends it was capped with a long metal casing that ended it a spike at one end and a flattened spearhead at the other. She’d never heard of wookies using spears before. The closest thing she knew of was a war staff.

Maybe this was from some small tribe with obscure traditions. Or maybe this individual simply didn’t live by the traditional ways of his people.

Either way, Ahsoka was grateful to come across such a weapon. Though different from her separated twin blades, there was still a lot of familiarity between the techniques used to wield them.

And there’s something more than that. On her home planet, any good hunter's weapon of choice was a spear. Sure they had arrows and hunting blasters and the like, but a spear was the most versatile and ideal weapon for hunting in the grasslands. Ahsoka herself had trained with one briefly before the war started. But she hadn’t been home in some time.

Still, it felt right to find a weapon so like that of her people waiting for her in a place like this, when she was most in need of one.

She hefts the weapon up, it’s nearly as tall as she is well-worn wood grain as soft as leather against her palms. The metal cappings are in gold and they shine in the dim lighting as if polished to a mirror shine.

The girth is almost too thick for her hands. Certainly wider than her saber hilts had been. But on rare occasions, she had been forced to train with Anakin’s saber, and the thickness of that hilt coupled with the wide metal grips had nearly torn her palms to shreds. There were calluses there now that held onto the wood well.

She spins the spear slowly between her hands, getting a feel for the weight of it. At least the weapon is balanced, despite the different metal ends the weight is distributed evenly and it twirls with little resistance between her palms.

She can hear shouting ahead, whatever is left of the blacksuns that hadn’t been stationed near her cell and thus dispatched by her explosion are starting to rally themselves. She can hear them opening an armory of sorts, the metallic sounds of blasters being loaded are familiar enough that she could recognize it without the context of the moment.

So Ahsoka spins the spear until half of it is tucked under one arm and sticking out behind her. She marches resolutely through the last two dim storage rooms until she swings a door open and finds herself in a large open room.

Across from her is a group of various sentients. Black sun tattoos are the only similarity between them. Well, that and the look they give her as they raise their blasters.

There are six that she can see in front of her. Although just to the left of the group there's an open door that must be the armory. Who knows how many more are inside.

As they take aim, she takes a defensive stance, turning mostly to the side so less of her body is easy to target even as lowers her center and braces the spear against her chest.

The first two blasts are easily absorbed by the spear, so easily that it prompts her enemies to advance faster than she anticipated. She turns on the balls of her feet and swings the spear decisively the end tipped with a blade slices through a man's throat blood spraying in an arc as she continues the moment of her turn and jabs the spiked end into another’s chest.

Now this is the smooth rhythm of a fight that she’d missed.

All of this fighting with blasters and explosives has been grating on her. The fluid swing of a blade is what she’d always been meant for.

Pulling her spear free of his chest she whips the spear around again in a quick upward arc slicing his belly open. Her second opponent falls clutching his gaping abdomen.

She must dodge blaster shots again as the other four fan out trying to surround her but she is faster and more experienced than them. Ahsoka dodges quickly to the left and pins one woman’s foot to the floor as she tries to back away; then slams her elbow into her face. Releasing her foot causes the woman to crumble to the floor and a well-placed stab of the spike ends her life.

The others are approaching together now, trying to hem her in. Ahsoka responds with a wide sweep of the blade grazing all of them. Choosing one target she flicks the blade over their extremities slicing them shallowly. They stumble in retreat aiming their blaster at her chest.

She dodges and two blasts are exchanged the opponent in front of her and the one who’d been aiming behind her fall to each other's blasts.

One remains and as comfortable with the killing as Ahsoka has become in the war, she’s never relished it. She slices the old man’s throat open with a viscous jab of the blade letting her spear point fall with the body and aim itself at his chest. Two wounds in less minutes and he is dead.

It’s an unfortunate fate but Ahsoka cannot afford to mourn the deaths of men intent on killing her, not in a galaxy this cold. So she turns her eyes and her mind away from the deed as soon as it’s finished.

There are no more enemies cowering in the weapons store.

She wanders through the door at the far end of the room and finds a set of steep stairs. The walls are softer with soil rather than stone. She must be reaching the surface now. Up the stairs is a dank room with a single folding chair and a buzzing light affixed to the ceiling. It smells like a cellar but the way the light shines through the cracks in the walls makes her think it’s probably more like a shed. She’s on the surface now, finally. There’s one wooden door between her and freedom and Ahsoka doesn’t hesitate to brace her hand against it and push it open.

On the other side is nothing that she expected to see.

A black visor tilts back suddenly in surprise at coming face to face with her. Standing close enough to not allow her to step out of the door is a clone, but not just any clone, because even with the pale green moonlight Ahsoka can identify his armor with no thought at all

“Ahsoka?” he demands as if she shouldn’t be here.

“Uh, yeah, Cody what are you doing?” She asks bewildered.

“We-” Cody cuts off, incredulity coloring his entire countenance, “We were going to rescue you.” By the end of his statement Cody sounds resigned in that way he usually does when he finds himself forced to cooperate with one of Anakin’s inane plans. Baffled yet resigned.

All around her troopers in yellow armor move from their positions surrounding the dingy little surface building and gather with her and their Commander. The bemusement in their demeanor brought an unexpected note of joy to her chest. Her hand follows it resting lightly over her heart and a grin stretches across her face.

“Awe. Me? Cody, you were gonna rescue me?”

“Yes.” Cody sighs hand rubbing uselessly against the brow of his helmet. “We had to fight with the council and the navy board to get the clearance too,” his tone had migrated into irritation now.

“Well I can go back inside, you can still do it.”

“Get to the ship Tano,” He bites out.

Cody steps back to allow her through. She gathers the tatters of her fluffy red skirt in one fist and hefts her bloody spear in the other. Cody gives her a once over noting all the singe marks and slashes; bruises hiding under soot streaks. “Did you blow your way out?”

Ahsoka casts him a puzzled look. “Didn’t you see the crater on your way in?”

[jacquelinemerritt]

Dragon Ball Z: Abridged Episode 60 Review

What does it mean for an abridged series to go even further beyond?

Part I

I started this review series in 2015 because I loved Dragon Ball Z: Abridged, and I needed there to be writing out there that explained why I loved it so much.

It’s a funny thing, re-reading all of my old writing about it. Part of the nature of a weekly review series is that you tend to zoom in on the particulars, as that’s where the meatiest criticism lies. Going over the specifics of the story’s structure, how details in the show add to a greater whole, it’s all part of the process of finding out why something in a show works, or sometimes, doesn’t work.

It’s in those details though, that you come to a greater whole. By recounting the specific ways in which a story is threaded together, week after week, episode after episode, you start to bring forward recurring ideas, and piece together aspects that continually make a show work, and contribute to the greater whole. And when you’re critiquing a masterpiece, a show so lovingly crafted that every single detail lines up perfectly for its conclusion, you eventually are able to tie those thoughts together into what is hopefully a masterful conclusion of your own.

Dragon Ball Z: Abridged is the best possible version of Dragon Ball Z.

This might be the most contentious statement I’ve ever made about this show. It’s a statement I know for a fact the creators disagree with. But it’s a statement I believe wholeheartedly, and I even would go so far as to say that Dragon Ball Z: Abridged is closer to the spirit of the original Dragon Ball than Toriyama managed to pull off himself.

The original Dragon Ball manga is a masterpiece of its own. Akira Toriyama did a phenomenal job weaving together hilarious gags with thrilling martial arts action and compelling character growth, all while centering one of the most lovable, fun, and pure-hearted protagonists to ever be written. There’s a reason that it spawned an entire genre of imitators, and that’s because its blend of action, comedy, and growth were all executed masterfully.

I don’t think that Dragon Ball Z ever manages to capture that magic the way the original does. That’s not to say that Dragon Ball Z is a bad show, but by the time Raditz enters the story, the manga and show both change into something much more akin to a melodramatic soap opera. There’s so much waxing from the characters about how powerful these foes they’re facing are, and there’s very little levity sprinkled throughout these long, drawn-out fights, as the circumstances feel too dire for the characters to make jokes and be silly.

Silly humor was core to Dragon Ball’s charm though. The very first fight in the first World Tournament Arc is a gag about how Krillin is able to beat a martial artist who has never bathed and uses stench as a weapon, because he doesn’t have a nose to smell him with. The best side character in this series goes from being an angry, murderous criminal to being a cheerful, innocent sprite every time she sneezes, and she always sneezes at the worst possible moments for everyone. Hell, the entire Red Ribbon Army Arc is a joke about how Goku completely obliterates a major threat to the world on a whim, because none of them are martial artists, and not a real challenge as a result!

The very magic of Dragon Ball Z: Abridged is that it takes this melodramatic source material and finds the space within it to make jokes again. The Saiyans are a world-dooming threat, but Nappa is hilarious, and I will forever quote everything he said. Freeza is a genocidal tyrant who has taken the galaxy by force, but even when the world around him is unable to laugh, his spoiled, petulant attitude is funny as hell, and full of delightful dark humor. Even the darkest timeline of Trunks’ future is filled with jokes, whether that be the genuinely despicable ramblings of TJ and the Wombat, or a 50-year-old Bulma making a pass at Gohan, perfectly fitting her original boy-crazy characterization.

And phenomenally, Dragon Ball Z: Abridged manages to do everything I just mentioned without sacrificing an ounce of drama. Goku’s battle against Freeza is desperate, and his Spirit Bomb failing rips the ground out from under you. Future Trunks’ battle against the Cyborgs is tense, and his first transformation into a Super Saiyan is gut-wrenching. Even in the first season, before they fully found their feet, Team Four Star managed to make the battle between Goku and Vegeta every bit as tense as it needed to be, while still incorporating a constant stream of jokes.

So where does that leave us with Episode 60?

Part II

What, exactly, is the purpose of an abridged series?

I think it’s fair to say that an abridged series is, at its core, an adaptation of a work of art from one medium to another. This is a statement I’ve made before in these reviews, but I don’t think I’ve ever elaborated on it. It feels rather obvious to me that an abridged series be treated as any other adaptation might, because at the end of the day, that’s what artists like Team Four Star, LittleKuriboh, and Something Witty Entertainment are doing. They are adapting a work from the medium of televised anime to the medium of a comedy YouTube short, and making the same kinds of adaptational decisions in creating these series as a production team turning a book into a movie.

You can see this question of adaptation present itself as far back as some of the earliest abridged series, like Avatar: The Abridged Series. Most of that show intentionally leans into the weakest aspects of Katara’s character, emphasizing her feminity, thirst for cute boys, and quick temper far more than the original show ever did. Yet, in its last episode, Katara undergoes a significant transformation in the face of Paku’s sexism, and is completely reimagined with a new voice actress as she goes on a rant about the sexist ways she’s been written, and her refusals to stand for it anymore. The last episode of this abridged series ever made goes out of its way to critique both itself and its source material in its last episode, and it begs the question of how far an abridged series adaptation can go.

Sword Art Online: Abridged famously goes even further in its critique of its source material. Almost every character is completely rewritten to serve as both a more accurate representation of online culture, and a deconstruction of their original persona, with Kirito in particular standing out as a fantastic depiction of the kind of loneliness and self-isolation that comes with being a try-hard edgelord. It takes an entire season of the show for Kirito to learn to truly connect with other people, and that growth is made all the more satisfying by showing genuinely difficult it is for him to maintain anything resembling a positive friendship with anyone because of those edgelord tendencies.

These shows both have very different purposes, in large part due to the evolving understanding of what an abridged series is capable of between their creations, but they both raise a fairly similar question: what happens when you give everyone with a video editor and internet connection the ability to re-tell someone else’s story?1

The answer here is something I think is quite beautiful. The abridged series thrives outside of the realm of copyright locked down by rent-seeking ideas landlords, and allows individuals, groups, and communities to reimagine their favorite stories. Sometimes, what they imagine is as simple as few extra jokes, or a simple rant about the sexist way a character is written, and sometimes, what they imagine is a completely new version of the story that actually raises interesting questions and showcases compelling characters.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the abridged series found its roots in the copyright-less utopia of early YouTube, when anyone had the freedom to take something they loved or hated, and transform it into something completely different. The rise of Content ID has long since taken away this pure, unadulterated freedom from us, and I truly feel that the internet is worse off for it.

When it comes to Dragon Ball Z: Abridged, the show we are watching is the result of a bunch of people who love Dragon Ball and Dragon Ball Z more than anything else, asking what they can do to make the show funnier, smarter, and more meaningful. Team Four Star found their footing as writers when they began to focus on the comedy that came from character interaction, as we watched these huge personalities clash, and for every funny joke they were able to draw out of that foundation, they managed to draw even more pathos and catharsis for these characters.

Which is to say, Team Four Star took the idea of an abridged series, and went even further beyond.

Part III

Episode 60 of Dragon Ball Z: Abridged is a massive episode that provides a satisfying resolution to the whole series, and nearly every storyline running within it. It also highlights the relationship between its characters fantastically, placing most of the story’s emotional weight on the fractured dynamic between Gohan and his chronically absent father, Goku.

The entire first part of the episode is focused on the tension between who Gohan fundamentally is, and the man his father expects him to be. Goku has, in a stroke of fighting genius (the only genius he is capable of), perfectly planned out this encounter between Perfect Cell and Gohan. He’s manipulated Cell into hosting a tournament for the fate of the world, and placed his son in the perfect position to take down Cell and ascend to power greater than anyone has ever seen. And it’s all ruined because, as Piccolo perfectly points out, Gohan hates fighting.

The subtext of emotional strain between Goku and Gohan has been running throughout the entire series, but it’s finally brought to the forefront of the text in this moment. We see Gohan wrack himself emotionally and Cell wrack him physically, as he and Cell both try to force himself to fill the role his father has placed him in. Even as Cell violently births his own progeny to wreck Goku and his companions, in a last ditch effort to stir a fire within Gohan, Goku’s son cannot bring himself to be the warrior his father believes him to be.

Android 16’s speech and subsequent death changes all of that for Gohan. In a moment set to a breathtaking cover of Unmei no Hi, Gohan internalizes the lesson passed onto him by Android 16, who thoroughly eviscerated the liberal pacifism Gohan has been trying to embody. And Gohan gets angry. So angry that his power skyrockets, and he becomes a Super Duper Saiyan.

Super Duper Saiyan Gohan is fucking terrifying.

Throughout Dragon Ball Z: Abridged, we’ve come to know Gohan as an incredibly intelligent, exuberant, compassionate bookworm. Even though he doesn’t want his entire life to revolve around education and books, he still revels in knowledge and the opportunity to learn, and some of his cutest moments are when he is allowed to be truly childlike, like when he eagerly investigated Cell’s time travel pod for clues.

Every single ounce of compassion and love for life Gohan had before transforming into a Super Duper Saiyan is replaced with rage. Rage at Cell for destroying Android 16, a beautiful soul who did nothing wrong. Rage at Goku for thrusting him into this fight unprepared, and taking away the only hope he felt by throwing Cell a Senzu. And rage, most of all, at the world, for being so fucked up that he was forced into this situation to begin with.

Gohan’s rage is cold though. There is no righteous fury like Goku, no petulant tantrum like Vegeta, no sorrowful torment like Trunks. This Gohan slowly defines the word “filicide” for Cell as he effortlessly commits it, wiping out all of Cell’s children so quickly even Freeza, the most murderous being we’ve met in this universe, would be impressed.

That very rage drives all of Gohan’s decisions, as he lords his power over Cell and takes every opportunity to torment him. He blows away all of Cell’s limbs with a Kamehameha, and then guts him with his fist so hard that he throws up Android 18, and loses his Perfect form. It’s this blindness by rage that leads to Gohan’s greatest mistake, of not finishing off Cell, who tries to blow himself and the planet up in order to gain some kind of victory.

What’s perfect about this moment though is that while Gohan feels entirely responsible for his mistake, Goku knows better. He recognizes the responsibility he bears for Gohan’s bloodlust, and knows that the only way to make it right is to remove Cell from the equation altogether, teleporting the two of them to King Kai’s planet in bold move to save the earth.

Goku’s decision to sacrifice himself also recalibrates Gohan’s perspective, guiding him away from the rage that filled him before, so that when Cell returns, and murders Vegeta’s baby boy, Gohan doesn’t hesitate to put himself in harms way to protect Vegeta from a deadly blow. It costs him an arm, but his commitment to protecting others, even when it’s stupid, and even when it gets himself hurt, is true to the Gohan we’ve come to know and love. All that’s left for Gohan to do is face off against Cell, one Kamehameha against another, and draw on the strength and fighting spirit of his father to deliver the final blow.

Goku and Gohan aren’t the only two characters whose relationship is deepened in this episode. Vegeta’s enraged cry of “MY BABY BOY!” when Cell kills Trunks shows just how much Vegeta has come to love his own son, despite the airs he puts on to the contrary. Piccolo’s love for Gohan is also expressed incredibly here as he lectures Goku for not paying attention to the needs and wants of his son, who just wanted to receive love and affection from his father.

In fact, the love that these characters have for each other, and the ways they express it, is a theme that runs deep in this episode. Trunks love for all these folks around him is shown as he dutifully delivers them all Senzu Beans, quietly making silly puns to each of them. Krillin’s love for Android 18 is displayed wonderfully, whether through him gaining the strength to stand up to Vegeta because she’s resting in his arms, or through him wishing her and her brother free of the bombs implanted in them. Even Yamcha and Tenshinhan are given a moment of brotherly love, as they express for the first time in words how much they both mean to each other.

That very love is also what drives Goku to refuse to be resurrected at the end of the episode, despite Cell having been defeated. He genuinely loves Gohan, Goten, Chi Chi, and all of his friends, and knows that the best way to show his love, for once, is actually to be away from them, and spend time in heaven with King Kai. He’s not afraid of the great change this will be, both for him, and the people he loves, and is willing to embrace the afterlife if it means safety for his loved ones.

Goku’s speech about embracing change and not being a part of his loved ones’ life anymore is also very easy to read as a coda to Dragon Ball Z: Abridged itself. He, and all the rest of these characters, are saying good-bye to us, the audience that has followed them on their journey for years, and they are all embracing the truth that it is beautiful to let this show end on its own happy terms. It’s ironic that, at the time, Team Four Star announced that they would be trying to continue this series, but it’s clear they grew to see the wisdom in Goku’s words too.

A similar message can be found in Cell’s final moments, as he gives us a beautiful rendition of Frank Sinatra’s My Way. Team Four Star, just like this villain, has spent nearly a decade re-telling the three sagas of Dragon Ball Z they loved the most, and at every turn, they chose to do it their way. Sometimes, in the early days, that meant reference-based humor that aged like milk, but more often than not, it meant leaning into their strengths as comedic writers, taking creative liberties with the source material, and working to elevate the text of Dragon Ball Z to something even better than the original show.

I don’t know what to call that other than Perfect.

Epilogue

The journey that I’ve been on with Dragon Ball Z: Abridged, both as a viewer and critic, has been an incredible one. It has meant more to me than just about any other show I’ve ever watched, and stands up there with some of the most impactful art that I’ve experienced. It’s a show I’ve watched when I was suicidally depressed to find some sort of levity, a show I found enough depth in to meticulously critique every episode, and a show I’ve gotten even my shounen-indifferent partner to get extremely hype about, as I showed them the entire show in the lead-up to its fantastic finale.

What Team Four Star managed to create in Dragon Ball Z: Abridged is something genuinely special. It’s a show that makes me laugh harder than just about anything. It’s a show that’s made me cry more times than I can count too, as I was tearing up multiple times while re-watching the finale for this review. It’s even a show that I get to cringe at sometimes, when I think of the early seasons, but that cringing makes it all the more impressive how much Team Four Star improved as storytellers, and elevated their craft to tell their version of Dragon Ball Z better than anyone else could.

I love Dragon Ball Z: Abridged. I will always love Dragon Ball Z: Abridged. And even though it’s over, I know it will always be there for me, waiting for me to tag along with Goku, Krillin, Vegeta, and Gohan, as they power up and save the world.

Rating: 5/5

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Stray Observations

1This question, you might notice, is exactly the same question raised by the existence of fan-fiction, and this is because abridged series are, at their core, no different from any other form of fan-fiction. An abridged series does, by its nature, require more work and expertise than a piece of prose on Archive of Our Own, but all it achieves, in the end, is a greater level of accessibility, like the difference between a written article and a video essay.

I genuinely adore that in this episode, when Piccolo goes to yell at Gohan to dodge, he’s already dodging Cell perfectly. What a great ending to a running gag.

Yamcha’s every line in this episode is great too. He just wants to be included, whether that’s in Team Three Star, or Cell’s plans for tournament entertainment, and I love him for that.

Super Duper Saiyan is also, just, fucking brilliant. Like, what a great way to use Goku’s silliness to get around the awkwardness of these forms being called Super Saiyan 2 and Super Saiyan 3. Vegeta calling the next form Super-Dee-Duper Saiyan just sells the joke even further. If the show had continued for another season, I genuinely would have loved the comedy of these characters shouting about being “Super-Duper Saiyan” or “Super-Dee-Duper Saiyan,” and would love to see a mock-up of Goku’s “even further beyond” speech with these terms in Team Four Star’s style.

Krillin Owned Count: 0. And as a huge fan of Krillin, yeah, this makes me real fuckin’ happy J

Also holy shit, did Krillin cum 39 times??? That’s super impressive for a cis dude, mad props.

[moon-sang]

𝙶𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚗

~ 𝘋𝘪𝘯 𝘋𝘫𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

SUMMARY: A Mandalorian myth is proven to be true, but what’s that got to do with you? Turns out...more than you thought. 

WARNINGS: Set before Mando get’s the darksaber, Talk of being possessed, Made up Mandalorian myth, Fem!reader, Reader is described as smaller than Din, ANGST, mature language, a little bit of references to the adventures of puss in boots because the storyline is awesome XD, pls tell me if I miss anything. 

~~~

“Well, we’re finally here.”

The triangular obelisk stood proud and tall in front of the four of you. Or should you say hovered proud and tall. The stone the obelisk was made of was eroded and covered in dust, making the symbols carved into the stone almost impossible to read. 

Under the markings on the rock was a hand imprint. 

“Where’s the cabur? [guardian]?” Exclaims Paz.

“The legend says Sage Vizsla chose three cabur’s; Green, Orange, and Red, Green the merciful yet strong one, Orange the evil merciless one, and Red the chaos one, yet sympathetic.” Taroh states, going over the legend again. 

“We faced the green one when we got the emerald flower, we faced the orange one when we got the amber flower, where’s the cabur to protect the ruby flower?” Vizsla groans in question. 

~~~~

EARLIER THAT DAY

“So what are we doing on Mandalore?” You ask, all too intrigued. 

“I am in debt to Paz Vizsla from when he saved me back on Nevarro, so he has asked me to accompany him on this mission on Mandalore.” He replies. 

“And what’s the mission?” You question, eyebrow quirked. 

Din sighs coming to a halt. 

“It’s a long story.” He argues. 

“Well I wanna know what I’m getting into.” You chuckle, batting your eyes innocently at him. 

“You? No, you’re staying with the armourer, it’s WAY too dangerous where I’m going.”

“But-” You start. 

“This isn’t up for debate, Y/n.” And with that he starts walking in large strides through the remains of Mandalore, not giving you the chance to ask any more questions. 

~~

Soon after, the two of you found the armourer with two other Mandalorian’s; Paz Vizsla and Taroh Nem. 

“Ah, you’re finally here.” grumbled Taroh. 

Din offers a curt nod, before-

“We must leave straight away, times running out.” Vizsla hurries, ushering both Din and Taroh to their transport. 

“Stay with the armourer.” were Din’s last orders before being shoved into the ship. 

The engines roar to life and you watch as the ship lifts off of the ground, before zooming into hyperspace. The frown on your face deepens when you can no longer see the it. 

With a sigh you turn around and follow the armourer into the secluded covert on Mandalore.

You take a seat by a stone table...if it even was a table and stare into space, already bored out of your brain. 

“You want to go with them.” 

A voice suddenly booms through the empty hallway. 

Your head snaps to the armourer. 

“I-” You start. 

The armourer tilts her helm to the side, drinking in your form. 

“Yeah, kind of.” You laugh. 

“Din Djarin is right. It is very dangerous where he is going.” She exclaims. 

“W-where is he going?” You ask, getting slightly worried for his safety yourself. 

“Multiple places.” She announces, short and sharp. 

You sigh. 

“Can I at least know what they’re doing?” You plead. 

The armourer sighs and takes a seat opposite of you. 

“A long time ago, a Mandalorian named Sage Vizsla, Paz’s ancestor, bred a powerful plant, and it was able to create a medicine that could restore youth to those who drank it out of soup and cure their diseases. However, when it got into the wrong hands, it was remade into a killing plant, the pollen was changed to speed up the ageing process until the victim died within seconds. When Sage figured this out, he took every single one of his sacred flowers and killed them all, but one pair.” She explains. 

“It took three flowers to create the remedy of curing diseases and restoring youth. A green one, the emerald flower, an orange one, the amber flower, and the main ingredient; the ruby flower, which was red. He hid all three of the last flowers he kept alive in seperate temples, which he then chose three people to guard those flowers, which we call cabur’s, which means guardian’s in basic.” She takes a quick breath before continuing. 

“However, instead of trusting the cabur’s to guard it themselves, he put an ancient spell on them which would make them even stronger and deadlier. It also made them only loyal to him only, this way he knew he could trust them. So the cabur’s had no control over what they did, as long as they completed their mission of protecting the last of those flowers, they were satisfied....they could never live normal lives and were bound to their temples.” She sighs. 

“Taroh’s daughter is awfully sick, the doctors on Nevarro have claimed that she will die before she is 20. Vizsla and Taroh want to take the last of the flowers to cure her, and any other person who may be sick, they think there is greater purpose in those flowers than keeping them locked up in a temple.” She continues, getting up to pour you a small chalice of tea.

“I can help them,” You blurt, fascinated with this Mandalorian tale. 

The armourer scoffs, and then chuckles. 

“How so?” She questions, the smile audible in her tone. 

“I studied archaeology, I can read seven dialects of ancient symbols, maybe there will be some symbols they will not be able to read.” You suggest. 

She hums in agreement and goes silent for a second.

“It will be dangerous.” She says.

“Especially with the cabur’s they will have to fight.” 

“I want. to. help.” You affirm. 

She clenches and unclenches her fists, obviously debating whether she should let you go or not. But then-

“Alright, I will let you go, but first, you need to be prepared, I will pack you a bag.” 

~~~~

Of course you had gotten a scolding from Din when you got to him (the armourer sent you to where they were) for not staying, but he couldn’t be too mad at you, after all, the armourer had let you go, even when he specifically told her not to, besides, you were proving to been very helpful with your reading skills. 

~~~~

PRESENT DAY

You stared at the obelisk in amazement. How was it floating without anything supporting it? 

“Do you think the cabur for the ruby flower is dead, already?” Taroh ponders. 

“I doubt it.” Din replies instantly, fingers twitching at his stun blaster, whilst the other kept you behind him. 

“Be cautious, the red cabur is said to be the most dangerous.” One of the Mandalorian’s say, but you’re barely paying attention anymore. You’re too focused on the enchanting way the obelisk is calling to you. Like a siren it draws you in closer and closer until you’re standing right in front of it. 

“I’d be careful, Y/n, the cabur could come from anywhere. He wouldn’t let you get anywhere near the ruby flower” One says. 

And then, as if on cue, the ruby flower unravels itself right on top of the obelisk, twirling gently in midair. 

You can’t help but let out a small ‘woah’ looking at the hypnotising flower. It’s petals were a menacing red with black tips, and rosy pink bits as the petals dipped inwards, towards the centre. 

You didn’t get long to admire the lushness of the flower because suddenly a red light bursts out of the flower and surges towards you. 

“Y/n!”  Was the last thing you heard, before your vision was lost, along with your thoughts. 

~~~~

When the light had finally faded Y/n stood still in front of them, perched exactly where she was before the light invaded their vision. 

“Y/n?” Din calls, worry evident in his voice. 

Her head was dropped as she slowly turned to face him. Her eyes were closed, her eyelids occasionally twitching. 

And then her lashes lifted, revealing her eyes...but they weren’t her usual sweet e/c, no, no colour could be seen in her eyes except for the glowing dark red which occupied her pupils and irises, and tinted the white in her eyes slightly pink from the glow. 

“...Oh...MAKER.. DIN! SHE’S THE RED CABUR!” Shouts Taroh. 

Din’s eyes widen underneath his helmet. 

You...were the...guardian of..the ruby flower? But...HOW? He would know if you were...you would have know you were...

Don’t get him wrong...you were more than worthy to be the cabur of the ruby flower, you were strong, intelligent, kind, and beautiful...but...it was you! And now...He would have to....knock you out...hurt you.. so he could get the flower.

“Leave.” Was all you had said before readying the blood red sword that appeared in your hand from the light. 

“No, I need that flower.” Taroh growls, before rushing at her. 

“No!” Din yelled, but was seemingly frozen in place from shock. 

Taroh readies his sword to slash at you in midair, but as he jumped at you, your arm shot out and flung him into the nearest wall, as if he had weighed nothing. 

Your eyes were crinkled in a deadly rage of red and this time you had rushed at Paz. 

Vizsla ignited his jet pack and flew up, before you got a clean shot at him. However, you had gained the powers of the cabur and your jumps had been heightened. So you jumped onto a wall and flipped off of that onto Vizsla’s back, slashing the jetback. “Shit!” He yells as she jumps off of him and Vizsla crashes into the wall, landing on top of Taroh. 

Now that the two of them were unconscious, you had turned your attention to DIn. 

“Mesh’la..” He warns gently. 

You jump and spin in the air landing your blade on his spear he had managed to pull out in the knick of time. 

“Meshurok, you need to-” You slash at his head and he ducks. 

“Snap-” Your blades clash, and you push him up against a wall.

“Out of-” You sweep at his feet, but he manages to step over your leg.

“It!” 

You growl and twist around him attempting to stab him in the back, but he spins quickly and you stab his shoulder instead. 

He grunts in, and quickly pins you to the obelisk when he sees the chance. 

You grunt and try to kick him but he’s holding you in place. 

“STOP IT! You need to snap out of the spell!” He yells, his voice crackling under the modulator. 

You thrash under his hold, trying to fulfil your duty in protecting the ruby flower. 

Din is starting to worry. What if he couldn’t save you...what if this spell was going to take over the rest of your life? 

What was he going to d-

The...song..

His mother used to sing him...

It was worth a shot. 

And so he started to sing to you. Although through the pained grunts he was making it didn’t sound like a chorus he was singing, just broken words he didn’t know the meaning of. 

“Quer Shru-” 

You grunt and yell and writh underneath his weight, but he doesn’t let up, only continues singing to you, in the hopes it would do something.

“Shrey, doveru.” He grunts out. 

Then he sees it. 

The raging red in your eyes fades slightly. 

It was working..

He continues to grunt out words of the lullaby his mother sung to him as you struggled against his grip. 

“Trullap Cro sweo, medalda shiu-”

You start panting as you become weaker and start submitting to Din’s weight. You were transforming back to your normal self. 

“Miarwu, soru sha.” He himself pants the words out in laboured breathes. 

And finally the last of the red had disappeared from your eyes, and your black pupils came back to you, including your control on your own mind. 

When he is certain you won’t attack him, he cups your cheek gently, catching his breath with you. 

“Mesh’la.” He says finally. 

“Din.” You whisper. 

He rests his head upon yours, absent-mindedly giving you a keldable kiss. 

“I-I hurt you!” You whimper.

He shushes you and brings you in for a hug. 

“I-I couldn’t control it” You sob.

“Shh, I know, sweet girl.” 

After holding on to each other for a while longer you smile gently. 

“The song.” You whisper. 

Din too smiles under his helm. 

He had once used that song on you previously to pull you out of a really bad panic attack you were having. It had lulled you to sleep instantly and you had expressed you liked it the day after. 

“Let’s go home.” He says, just as the two other Mandalorian’s began to wake up. 

You nod.

“Home.” 

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

Just To Clear Some Things Up:

~ Y/n didn’t want to not let them get the flower she had no choice because of the spell put on her and the other guardian’s.

~ Taroh’s daughter was healed because the managed to get the flower with Y/n’s approval and support

~ The two other guardian’s were not killed because lets face it Din isn’t one to kill innocents, so they were just knocked out.

~ The lullaby is a language I made up, and can translate to whatever you wish it to translate to. 

If there is anything else you need cleared up please comment.

REQUESTS CLOSED

[somecrocanadian]

A Volunteer from the Past

So, instead of finishing a final project I wrote this to procrastinate. I hope you enjoy this!

~~~

President Snow sat in his velvet chair watching the reaping ceremonies across the districts, paying special attention to district 12s reaping. He watched as the camera zoomed in on Katniss, the only female tribute. He could tell she was barely keeping it together. Good. Her symbol of hope would be no more. 

Snow watched as the overly dressed Effie pulled out the single slip of paper from the bowl, a small smirk appearing on his face.

“Katniss Everdeen!” She called out.

The camera closed in on Katniss’s face as she barely held it together. Snow could only imagine what was going through her head. His smirk only got larger. Checkmate. 

Snow was lost in thought he almost missed the sudden turn of events before him.

“I volunteer!” An unmistakable voice called out. One that froze Snow right to his core.

The camera panned to the back of the crowd showing an 80 year old woman, with long white curls, wearing that same dress.

“My name is Lucy Gray Barid,” She said walking forward as the crowd parted before her, “Victor of the 10th Hunger Games.”

“It can’t be,” Snow muttered. After all this time she was still alive. How? He had killed her in the woods with the mocking jays. Why resurface now? Everything was so perfect, why would she resurface?

Snow went back to that day in the woods 65 years ago, a day that he never truly forgot. He remembered getting bit by a snake, shooting at her, watching her fall, finding her earring, then hiding the guns. He never saw a body, he had assumed that her injuries would kill her. There was no way to recover from a gunshot in the woods, especially with his impeccable aim. Either way he sent soldiers to track her down, even if it was just to recover her body.

Snow has to force himself back into the present. He made sure all records of the 10th Hunger Games were erased, that no one even remembered Lucy Gray. There is no way to prove her claims. That’s why Snow was speechless when the mayor came out and tested her DNA with a sample he had from an ancient looking document and it matched.

How is that possible? Snow made every effort, albeit discreetly, to make sure that she was erased. Who missed the mayor's records?

Snow missed the male reaping, too caught up in his thoughts to pay much attention. 

That filthy district bitch doesn’t deserve to be alive. She was hunted down. Who confirmed the kill? Why did I never see a body?

The broadcast cut but Snow didn’t move, too caught up over Lucy Gray to care about anything else.

~~~

Once Snow had recovered from his shock he sent someone to confirm that it truly was Lucy Gray and not someone trying to impersonate her, though he already knew the truth. Then he sent someone else to figure out who was on that mission to find Lucy Gray, and to execute every single one of them. He also sent someone to fetch Tigres, if one woman from his past was causing issues he was going to be sure the only other one would be faithful to him. 

It only enraged him further to learn that Tigres was nowhere to be found. Maybe she hid Lucy Gray all those years ago, maybe she was behind it all. One final act to stab him in the back after everything he did for her. She’d be dead soon too.

As soon as it was confirmed that it really was Lucy Gray, Snow invited her over for dinner. He would serve her the best meal then poison her to force Katniss back into the games. A small setback didn’t mean the end to his plans. 

~~~

“Coriolanus, I’d never thought I’d see you again,” Lucy Gray said entering the dining room.

“Leave us,” Snow said, dismissing the staff before they had fully served the meal. They all knew better than to question Snow and left quickly.

“I go by Snow.”

“Yeah, but I like Coriolanus better. It has a nice ring to it. It’s been a while.”

“Yes, quite. I thought you were dead.”

“I’m sure you sent men after me but I’m quite good at hiding.”

Snow didn’t know how to respond to that, Lucy Gray didn’t need one; “As I starved away in hiding I’m assuming you won that prize of yours and was able to afford as much food as your heart desired.”

Snow stayed silent.

Lucy Gray reached forward to grab the water pitcher, “Though I never figured out who that third person you killed was, and it definitely wasn’t your old self because I see him right in front of me.”

“I’ve killed a lot more than three people, Lucy Gray,” He said, trying to deflect the question. But saying her name out loud distracted him, a small voice in the back of his head was reminding him that this is the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with at one point.

“I know you have, but who was your third? You killed Bobbin in the area, Mayfair, the mayor's daughter, then someone else before you killed me,” Lucy said, now pouring Snow a glass of water, “Who was it?”

“Sejanus,” Snow said, “I sent a recording of his plans to Dr. Gaull and she ordered him to be hung.”

Snow took a long sip of water, this was something he had buried long ago, he didn’t need to drag it up again.

“Really? Your best friend?” Lucy Gray questioned, “All for power and money I assume,” She said, taking a sip of water.

“He was weaker than someone in the capital should have been,” Snow said, but something didn’t feel right.

Lucy hummed in response. Then pulled out an old compact from the folds of her dress.

Snow’s eyes widened in response, “You-”

“Yes, good-bye Coriolanus Snow,” She said. 

Snow was speechless, there was nothing he could do to stop this, he was dying and fast. What would become of his family name without him there? He couldn’t go out like this! Not killed by some district scum.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a gentle singing voice.

“Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be,” Lucy Gray sang as both of their noses began to bleed and the room went out of focus, “If we met… at mid-night, in the hanging tree…”

The pair were discovered a few minutes later by a servant, slumped over on the table, dead.

[ph4ngz]

lust quirk bkg plssssss 😭😭😭

Lust quirk w/ Bakugo

Contains: pro hero!Bakugo x fem!reader, aphrodisiac(?) themes, reader and Bakubro are complete strangers, squirting, exhibitionism, almost getting caught, slight size kink? Bakugo is so sexy when he’s not ripping everybody’s head off :P

Lust quirk w/ Izuku here

Lust quirk w/ Shoto here

/-/-/-/

Bakugo, Todoroki and Deku had been on patrol for the past couple of hours. Cars were loud as they zoomed past, pedestrians just going about their days. All three of them were bored out of their minds until you'd shown up, having already split up and examined the entire area independently before meeting each other again. You'd been on the way to go grocery shopping when you spotted them, your cutest dress flowing short around your thighs with the middle cinched and tight to your waist.

"Izuku!" You yelled loud enough to steal the pro hero's attention from afar as you crossed the road, a few people turning heads out of curiosity.

"Hm?" Izuku hums, stopping to search his surroundings for the source of your familiar voice. He called your name in return as you weaselled your way through a small crowd to approach the group of guys almost half tucked away in an empty alleyway. One of them in particular stood out to you as you latched onto Izuku's arm.

He studied your appearance for as long as you studied his.

"Oh! Yeah- Todoroki, this is my friend Y/n! We've actually known each other since we were kids! Our mom's were really close, and so..." The green haired hero introduced you to the other taller boy, though his words ultimately ended up fading out as you became enthralled by another's presence.

Your eyes trailed upward from his chunky, heavy boots to the baggy cargo pants, secured by a khaki belt, that seemed to accentuate his figure. Then, the tight black vest that clung to his abs, some parts orange that were made to form an X across his chest. And finally, the matching, spiky mask that concealed his face.

All you could see was his crimson glare, beating down on you like the summer sun rays.

And were those grenades attached to his arms?!

What felt like hours passed by before a large, calloused hand shot into the corner of your vision. Slightly flustered after jumping, you spun on your heel to face whoever's hand thankfully distracted you.

"Nice to meet you." A rather unenthusiastic greeting met your ears.

Oh great, another one. You were starting to feel not so attractive the longer you hung around Izuku and his hero friends. This one had heterochromatic eyes, one grey and one a striking turquoise.

"Uh- yeah! Nice to meet you too!" You gave Todoroki both of your hands with a giggle, glancing to your side involuntarily every few seconds. It seemed the mysterious grenade-arms kept a lock on your attention.

He was taller, bigger than you. You'd guessed he was about twice your bodyweight, if the muscles protruding from his upper half were anything to go by. He came off as insanely powerful. Even his stance was intimidating, and you couldn't imagine what his demeanour would be like.

"Ah, Kacchan, this is Y/n." Deku stated a lot less enthusiastically than the last time. You wondered if maybe these two got off on a bad foot.

Hardly tearing your eyes away from handsome Todoroki's, you'd slowly aimed your vision upward to get yet another glimpse of "Kacchan". But this time around, you were temporarily stiff with surprise.

He'd pushed the mask he wore just over his hairline, revealing the most grumpy expression you'd ever seen. Even your roommate didn't look this irked when you'd eaten her favourite chocolate snacks that you found stashed away. You definitely would've been put off him if it wasn't for the overall 'Sex God' vibe he gave off. Although, his immovable frown oddly suited his boyish features.

Another hand was extended to you. His hand.

But before either of you could exchange a touch, a single word to each other, you'd been literally hit with the weirdest pain. Only after the sensation bloomed from within your body did you witness the pink-purple glow outlining your skin. You'd almost failed to register the fact that your feet were not on the ground.

The forceful impact of whatever hit you had spun and knocked you backward further into the isolated alleyway and you skidded to a stop.

"Y/n! Kacchan!?"

"Bakugo! Be careful!"

Being pro heroes and all, the three guys you'd just been surrounded by had spread out in a matter of nanoseconds. No hesitation present at all. Though one had stuck by your side and hurriedly crouched to your level on the concrete floor to finally encase his hand with your own and prop you up against a wall. It was all a blur to you from then, the odd pain you were experiencing in your groin not letting you regard anything other. You didn't even catch who'd stayed with you.

"Oi! Snap out of it!" A deep, gruff yelling in your ear does in fact snap you out of it, the volume interrupting whatever injury you've attained. Damn, you can hear everything all at once now. People are screaming and there's rapid footsteps to accompany the terrified sounds. You're appreciative of the copious stacks of delivery boxes shielding you from the panic.

You lean your full weight on the building behind you, not caring if the old bricks dig into your spine. Your ass is probably bruised due to the hard flooring you've been sat on for what feels like years.

A pained grimace paints your face as your head shoots downward to locate the ticklish feeling on your propped up legs, unintentionally ignoring the firm grip continuously shaking your shoulder. Blood is soaking through the thick strips of gauze knotted around your wounds. What... who...?

“Your knees hit the ground before we even knew what was happening. Shit’s not as bad as it loo… hey I’m talkin’ to you.”

All of a sudden you're breathing a lot faster. Oh god, you're freaking out! What if your injuries are really bad? Why are your insides on fire? Are you overheating? What if you're bleeding internally? What if—

Eventually you're forced to come face to face with those same eyes, that now unmasked crimson glare. Even in your current state, your mind can't help but engrave the blurry image of his concerned yet pissed expression, his flawless skin illuminated by the pretty hue of your glowing aura.

A particularly strong surge of NOT GOOD emits from your core.

"Hey, stop panicking. I'm here to help, you're gonna be totally fine."

The hero's hand is still atop of your messy hair even though he's got you paying attention already. Still recovering from shock, you give your guy another once-over.

Steadily crouched between your numb knees, a slight sign of respect evident as he's an inch or two away from bursting your personal bubble. Stressfully massaging the bridge of his nose. He looks no different compared to when you first met him earlier, bar the fact that his shirt may as well not be there at all.

Yes, the sight of this guy practically shirtless is heavenly. The very real possibility that you're the reason for his injuries if he's sustained any? Not so heavenly.

Oh but why is he so gorgeous? And why is the area between your legs so hot?

Shit. Your insides contract along to the mere thought of him.

"Bakugo, your shirt. You okay? Are you hu- hurt?" You ask whilst trying your hardest not to let your eyes zero in on his physical existence. It's sort of... out there, but you think the trigger for your internal aching might be the hero himself.

"You ripped it off me. Memory loss?" Bakugo spits cheekily, his heart unwelcomely thumping at how you remembered his name after Todoroki yelled it. Removing his hand from your head, he seems a little confused. Why're you avoiding looking at him?

Heat rises from beneath the skin of your cheeks now that he's jogged your foggy memory. What in all hell did you do that for?!

"Right— sorry. I feel so weird I- Mmph! Agh-" Your apology carries into a lengthy string of anxious moans. You didn't look at him that time.

"What the fuck is goin' on? You sick or somethin'?" He asks deadly serious.

Bakugo attempts to shift closer to your shivering form to use the back of his palm to check your temperature but you stop him just in time, instinctively pressing your hand against his bared chest.

"D-Don't! Come any closer."

"Yeah, must have a cold or something, getting a little hot." You continue from your outburst and half-lie to his face.

He rapidly observes your odd behaviour as you force yourself to ignore the obvious discomfort. Scanning your convulsing body to discover your other hand is unconsciously jolting between tense thighs, fingers pressing down the fabric of your dress. Your glowing skin is visibly sticky with sweat, and so is the shivering it brings once it dries.

Oh. Oh, he's figured it out. A quirk. Something to do with aphrodisiacs, maybe? He remembers his hero buddy Kaminari telling him about a time he fell under a 'lust' quirk in the past. Perhaps?

For some reason unknown to you, Bakugo stills. You think you can see his cheeks redden in your peripheral vision. Paranoid, you spare a fleeting glance below his neck. The hand you'd placed on his chest has been slowly making it's way down, the position you finally catch it in being dragged directly over one of his nipples.

Absolutely horrified by your own actions, the rest of your body freezing in place, your eyes find his. Except they're not looking for yours in return. Following his awkward line of sight, you come to find your hand desperately rubbing where it shouldn't.

"Hey..." The hero's gravelly voice sends exaggerated tingles throughout the entirety of your weakened body.

No longer unable to move, you rip your hands away and hug yourself as you wobble into a stand in one fluid motion. There's a little more distance between you now, but this view... Bakugo knelt in front of you, head level with your—

No, you tell yourself. Well, try to.

All you can imagine is his spiky hair clasped between your fingers to pull him closer into you, his beautiful features covered in your juices.

You're currently unaware of how he's discarding the dangerous looking equipment that dons his neck and forearms, setting them aside. You know, just incase.

The dirtiest scenes flash by one by one within your cloudy head, rendering you hopelessly horny. They keep coming, each and every detailed fantasy clogging your brain faster by the second.

The sting you'd felt just now returns, still as unexpected as the last time, yet more unbearable than ever. You twitch uncontrollably as the concerned hero stands straight, his intimidating stance looming over you.

"Touch— me!" You don't mean to demand, but this calls for urgency. So much urgency in fact, that you dare to press down on his shoulders until he's kneeling once more. Real classy.

"B-Bakugo, touch me. Please, it hurts! Hurts so bad— so fucking bad and, I can't control myself-!"

He's letting you do this. He's witnessing you fall apart right there in front of him. Speechless as you proceed to beg him for his hefty touch. Helplessly touching yourself all the while. What the hell is he supposed to do? He can't just whisk you away to somewhere more private and fuck you! And you're injured, so his first destination should be the hospital, right?

"I'm in my right mind— hah! I pro—mise!" You yelp, hoping to rid him of any thoughts about taking advantage of you. You want this. Need this. Even if you weren't in pain.

A shimmery substance trickling along the soft skin of your thigh from beneath your dress steals Bakugo's faltering attention. Damn.

Were his pants always this tight?

It seems you've noticed it too, voice small as an embarrassed "fuck" falls from your plumped lips. He angles his head upward, then back to your thigh. You're expectedly peering down at him underneath you, his and your face both filtered by the pinkish haze outlining your increasingly sensitive body.

"Jesus fucking christ... I—"

He knows that you're the only civilian who'd been attacked, Bakugo had seen the villain flee without so much as touching anybody else, too busy avoiding his Deku and Todoroki's attacks. He has no other duty but to take you to the hospital. So... why isn't he moving?

"Touch. me." A twinge of seriousness shows through your words.

Don't fucking do it, his mind warns.

Don't do it.

As if your display isn't enough, you urgently slip your trembling fingers into his messy locks and tug him forward into your hips.

Damn it!

"Don't tell me what to do..." He mutters somewhat guiltily, giving into his present and not his future. You're irresistible.

After giving your surroundings a quick study, Bakugo's lustful face inches closer to the streak of arousal that'd escaped from your soaked panties, the speed at which he does so being way too slow for your liking. Fluttering his eyelids closed in an act of shame, he lets his eager tongue drag over the plush, wet skin, simultaneously taking a handful of your calfs to keep you steady. He misses the way your teeth bury themselves into your bottom lip.

Bakugo collects your sweet sick with the flat of his tongue, mouth wide open making every laboured exhale audible. If he said he wasn't thoroughly enjoying himself right now he'd be lying. You scrunch your dress up and secure it with a free hand on your waist, dying to continue watching his frowning expression before it's hidden.

"Mmmmmnnnn," You whine impatiently, the sting intensifying the closer the shameful hero gets to the drenched cotton concealing your yearning pussy. His breath fanning out upon your body is driving you up the wall.

His stabilising grip travels upward by the back of your legs, stopping just under your ass cheeks. Just as his mouth reaches the lower seams of your skimpy panties, blunt nails dig in and you're sure there will be red half-moons left in their place. This makes you suck the steamy air in through your gritted teeth.

Tears are rolling down your flushed cheeks, frustration growing within you.

Then, right as you're beginning to become more aggravated by the non-stop aching, Bakugo nuzzles into your covered cunt, damping his nose and lips with your scent.

The irritating pain seizes completely. The fuse in you is set alight.

"OH— yes yes, fuck! Keep doing... that!" Trying to lower the volume of your uncontainable moans proves to be very difficult, but the commotion taking place not even fifteen metres away is hopefully loud enough to disguise your sobs.

His huge hands are cupping the whole span of your ass now, fingers having slipped under your thong, pulling your jittery form even closer so he can take it all for himself, shaking his head and inhaling everything you.

A groan emerges from his throat once your pull increases on his hair, the guttural sound going straight to your muddled head. You're practically riding his face with your back arched away from the wall, and Bakugo wants to cry at how hard you're making him. He needs more.

You're about to pipe up when you see him move away, but your desperate whining and pleading immediately comes to a stop after he pushes your underwear to the side and licks a clean stripe through your folds, separating them to kiss your aimlessly clenching hole.

"No! No, please... I said keep do- MNMN!" The fingers clutching at your dress grow limp, letting the creased fabric drape over the antsy man knelt at your feet.

You swear you're temporarily blinded by white when you sense a skilled tongue swirl around your swollen bud only twice, the lone sensations hurling you head-on into what you believe is the most unbelievably mind-numbing orgasm you'll ever experience. The initial shock preventing you from noticing how he flinches.

The hero pauses for a hot second and his crimson eyes widen with disbelief beneath you, but he continues to flick, swipe, prod nonetheless.

His cock was begging to be released from the confines of his pants to begin with. Now this new incessant twitching is gonna drive him crazy.

"Grr! Urgh!"

All you can do is growl and put as much effort into keeping still and not crushing Bakugo with your thighs as possible whilst you come undone, every sudden wave of numbing pleasure whooshing through you with an unrivalled force causing your throat to open and close up for a short moment.

After a while spent to come down from your insane high, he eventually reveals himself from under the light cloth, removing the hands that once had a harsh squeeze of your asscheeks and comfortingly rubbing your vibrating upper legs instead.

You're confused.

He's staring up at you in an uncharacteristically adorable way, akin to a lost puppy, observing breathlessly as you clock the watery sheen layering his nose, the way his long lashes are clinging together with a teeny sparkle to them. Oh shit. You clamp a hand atop of your quivering mouth, droplets still flowing from your waterlines and subconsciously relishing in the unbroken eye contact between you both. Bakugo speaks first, though you're too surprised to register it, ending in a mutual interruption.

"Did you just...?"

"Did I—?"

Not only did you cum less than a minute into it, you squirted all over the guy's face in doing so. Great going!

Bakugo wipes his chin and nose with the back of his thumb, licks his lips then lets out a huff that turns into an undeniably sexy chuckle. His smile...

"Fuuuuuuuuck."

You'd be embarrassed if it weren't for that now familiar sensation returning to reside within you. Something is telling you that reaching orgasm isn't the key to stopping it.

"I need you. Now." The annoying quirk induced pain has you tearfully mumble the words before you can even think them.

"I-I don't think I should— is this eve-" The unsure hero stutters pathetically, still proceeding to grab your panties by the pretty lace hem and quickly yank them to rest loosely upon your feet.

"H-hurts! Please!"

You're half expecting him to decline again after seeing the guilt ridden look on him once he stands up. Wow, you forgot how tall he is when you aren't mounting his face. A regretful sigh leaves him. Then a hesitant attempt to speak up again. Then finally,

"...Alright."

Without a second thought, Bakugo latches his lips upon your own to greedily tongue you down, letting the taste of your sweet cunt mingle on the tip of your tastebuds. His buff arms are caging you in, both of them soon reaching for his belt and the zipper of his cargo pants. He expertly undoes both without breaking the heated kiss once, now taking deep breaths through his nose whilst he frees his unbearably stiff dick and smears precum all over the length.

Suddenly, your legs give out due to exhaustion. Luckily your hero catches you by the waist and pulls you into his chest, turning what would've been another fall into a clumsy stumble.

"Hey, jump." Bakugo orders moodily, and you don't need to be told twice.

Putting all your trust into him, you do as he says, ultimately jumping out of your underwear to accidentally hook them up with one foot as you land in his strong arms.

"Atta girl." He praises deeply.

You use your last remnants of energy to get your dress out of his way as he's positioning you, and he's wasting no time in coating himself in your cum once he's gotten his arms wrapped under your bandaged knees. The repeated drag of his thick cock, up and down on your throbbing clit, is enough to drive you mad. Muscles locking in place and toes curling in your shoes at the overstimulation.

"Please please please please please," A string of breathy whispers falls from your sore lips and hits the shell of Bakugo's ear, causing him to bare his bottom teeth out of sheer arousal, animosity. Your voice does things to him.

The way your small selection of words is slowly chipping away at his self control, he can deal with.

"Hah- 'm serious! It stings! Bakugo..."

It's the desperate, almost saddened moan of his name that gets him to crack.

He plunges into you within an instant, exhaling what, to his slight embarrassment, sounds like a positively defeated whine. As if he's experiencing the same overpowering pleasure that you are.

"H'oh my fuckin' god,"

You'd actually forgotten all about the magical-esque hue surrounding your form until it starts to flicker. It's fading.

You're clung to him like your life depends on him, and he's loving all of it. Your legs constricting his waist and biceps, arms looped around his flushed neck, squeezing his toned body harder and harder with every laboured thrust, the way your sticky sweet pussy is adjusting and sucking on every inch of his dick making it increasingly difficult to move.

"How are you this—" Bakugo seethes, pauses to snap his hips up into you with a new amount of strength whilst simultaneously resting his head on your shoulder for some kind of fucked-out comfort, the same way your head is on his. "Tight!" He muffles into the crook of your neck, drinking in each debauched cry you bless him with.

"Ah, ah, ah!" You struggle not to bite your lolling tongue with how hard he's fucking into you, bouncing you on his perfect cock with just the power of his thrusts alone. You think he could please you the same without the wall as support.

He's hardly given you any time at all to get accustomed with his size and shape buried deep inside. Are you truly that fucking wet? You open your mouth with a silent scream, the enraptured hero having changed his pace to go even faster.

Well, if you weren't that wet before, you definitely are now.

Your coloured aura is completely gone, darkness of shadows cast by city buildings drawing a veil to conceal both of your animalistic deeds.

"Sho g-ood! Gonna cum shoon gon- cum shoon," Your lips are smushed upon his salty skin, shamelessly indulging in his delicious scent.

As if on cue, Bakugo comes to an abrupt stop.

"What are youMMPH!?"

You're roughly sandwiched between him and the bricks at your back, squished impossibly closer to his heaving chest, the new position spreading your legs almost painfully to accommodate his frame. The large, scarred hand that had clamped over your mouth the second you raised your head kept a steel grip in it's place. Leaving one of your shaking legs to dangle beside him. His wide eyes signal to somewhere behind him, informing you of someone else presence. Nostrils flaring with anxiety, you rear your head to the side.

Deku and Todoroki.

Bakugo turns his upper half away from you to check on them a second time, appearing to be holding his breath. Ah, he's still inside you, dick twitching and jumping with the involuntary clenching of your cunt. This must be torture for him, too.

You feel him tense and see his ruby eyes dart, like he's forming an urgent plan.

As smoothly as he possibly can, he sighs and rapidly takes his hand from your mouth to replace it with his tooth-marked lips. This kiss is much more hurried and passionate than the others, so much so that your senses are practically void of anything else but him. But that also comes to a stop.

The sudden lack of his taste enhances your other senses dramatically, allowing you to catch on to the quiet concerns of a suspicious green hero to his half and half friend.

"Wait, Todoroki. I think I just saw something."

"Like what?"

"I'm not really sure. I just caught this flash of something in the corner of my eye..."

You don't understand why he's acting so reckless right now when you could easily be caught until his hand returns to your face once more. You're absolutely bewildered.

Oh, god.

This sight is something you'll never forget.

Your hero is face to face with you, the twisted lace hem of your panties secured between his gritted teeth, thick eyebrows bowed with a silently pleading sparkle in his irises to match. 'Please, stay quiet' they say. This entire situation is fucking unreal, it's making you dizzy. The other hero had seen your cum-stained, saturated underwear from behind the cardboard boxes keeping you hidden. Mostly.

Deku is slowly sauntering in your direction when Bakugo has the audacity to resume moving inside your fluttering pussy, picking up the coil in your abdomen from where he'd left it just to tighten it again. Not once breaking eye contact.

And you thought he was reckless before.

"Maybe it was a stray cat or something." You hear Todoroki approach Deku's side.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. You're both so turned on, so close to one another's release.

Ecstasy consumes you as your hero begins to hump into you, not daring to pull away even the slightest bit in fear of the smacking noises. You wish he would've warned you beforehand, and he wishes he would've too.

No. No no no! He's gonna make you cum again! Your heartbeat is through the roof, and you try to warn him by shaking your head as quick as you can but—

The swollen tip of his length is repeatedly nudging the one spot within you that brings enough pleasure to have you sobbing. And naturally, you sob. Initial volume hardly muffled by his palm until he presses down too late. You're cumming even harder than earlier, you and him clenching wide eyes shut in sync at the feeling of your sex squirting all over his clothes, his scalding skin, his pulsing cock.

"MmmmHmHm-!"

"Uraraka! Hold on a sec!"

Bakugo's heart plummets. Shit! He can't stop himself. Not after that.

"Fuck! God— damn!" A muffled, strained groan escapes his narrowed throat into the panties in his mouth, along with your spellbinding cry, his greedy body too busy jackhammering your poor little cunt to notice Deku’s voice overriding everything. Including the obvious squelch emitting from your hole.

Two sets of running footsteps quickly fade away, relieving the two of you from a crushing weight on your shoulders as white hot ropes of your hero's cum coat your insides. One final burst of glowing purple-pink shows itself before you're deservedly rid of any symptoms caused by that bastard villains quirk.

At last…

You smile into space, warm and genuinely appreciative.

Bakugo removes himself from you, understanding of how his cum seemed to be the cure. You can sense his release sliding down your bare legs. To say he's been struck by love would be an understatement when you collect some on the tip of your finger whilst he stuffs your underwear in his pocket, to then teasingly suck on it once he looks up again.

The hero gawks at your exhausted but albeit playful display and proceeds to manoeuvre you so that he's resting against the wall with your back to his chest. Neither of you care about the intimacy, already comfortable together as if you'd known one another for years. You guess that villain was good for at least one thing…

An overwhelmed sigh from him blows past your hair.

"Don't think I've ever been so stressed out," He complains tiredly with his cheeks puffed out, dropping down to the concrete beneath him with you complying to curl up in his lap.

You close your eyes. It sounds like the commotion outside has finally come to an end, the city's usual ambiance having returned during your panicked moments. An amused giggle shakes your weak body.

"I hadn’t even asked you out yet and we’ve already fucked. Wanna get married next?"

"Pfft, shut up..." Bakugo replies with a snort, placing his spinning head atop of yours.

/-/-/-/

This took fucking forever

[buckysimp101]

Love at First Grade (18+) - 1

Single Dad!Bucky Barnes x Single Mom!Reader

chapter warnings: none

a/n: I am so excited to work on this fic. I am a sucker for a good singledad!Bucky fic and to add the teacher!Bucky to it as well? A dream! let me know what you think of this first chapter in the comments! I hope y'all enjoy!

Series Masterlist

“Becca, come on you have to get up,” Bucky whispered as he lightly shook his sleeping, six year old daughter. Becca’s face twisted up in discontent as she attempted to pull her blanket up to prevent having to go to school.

“Sweetheart, don’t make me turn on the lights,” Bucky threatened lightly, not wanting to turn on the lights himself but he needed her to get up. They had to be leaving for school in thirty minutes, he’d already been up for an hour and a half preparing for the day.

Becca groaned at that threat, knowing he’d do just that if it meant she’d finally wake up. She threw her hands over her face and peaked through them, her blue eyes catching his.

Becca was Bucky’s twin with her brown hair and blue eyes, she got way more of his genes that she did her mother’s. A fact that made Dot angry every time any of Bucky’s family brought it up. When Dot walked out on them Becca was two. She hadn’t known her mother long enough to miss her, but Bucky knew that there was a mom shaped hole that he would never be able to fill completely, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try.

“But daddy I don’t wanna go to school,” Becca whispered from behind the safety of her hands, trying not to make eye contact with her dad.

“Why not, Bex? You were all excited about going to first grade last week, what changed your mind?” Bucky asked quietly, trying to find out where his daughters sudden fear of the first grade had come from.

“Because you’re not my teacher,” she whispered, looking down at her hands and avoiding Bucky’s face. His heart dropped. He knew that Becca had been hoping he would be her teacher, but since he was her father that wasn’t going to happen. Their school liked to avoid the “my parent is my teacher” stereotype and placed the kids with other teachers instead.

“I know, sweetheart. But you know who is your teacher?” He responded, smoothing her brown curls as she looked at him with those big blue eyes, shaking her head no. So Bucky whispered, “Uncle Stevie.”

Becca’s eyes grew three sizes and next thing Bucky knew she was throwing off her blanket and running to the closet, “UNCLE STEVIE IS MY TEACHER!?”

Bucky chuckled as he watched Becca’s curls fly around her head wildly as she tried to find “the best outfit for the best teacher EVER!”, though that last statement hurt Bucky just a little bit.

“Alright Bex, calm down. Now. Let me see what you plan on wearing,” he said, his hands on his hips. He didn’t care what Becca wore to school but sometimes she liked to play dress up just a little too much. Becca showed him her outfit and he nodded his head in approval.

“Alright kiddo, I’ve got breakfast ready. Let's go eat real fast then you can get changed, brush your teeth and we’ll be off to see Mr. Rogers.” At that, Becca zoomed past Bucky to the kitchen and he swore he’d never seen a kid eat faster, and he’d had plenty of lunch duties in his day.

As Bucky finished packing their lunches and fixing his togo coffee, he listened to Becca chatter on about how excited she was to be in Uncle Steve's class and how she was scared that she'd forget to call him Mr. Rogers and how many friends she was going to make, the last statement making Bucky chuckle as he shook his head. Becca didn't know a stranger. She made friends everywhere she went. Suffice to say, she got that skill from her mother. The difference? Dot made friends at the drop of a hat, but she was terrible at maintaining those friendships. Bucky was physically pulled out of his thoughts by his six year old tugging at his slacks, "okay daddy! I'm all ready!"

Focusing on Becca, Bucky had to hold back a laugh. While his daughter had managed to put on her clothes correctly, right side out and everything, her hair was a different story. The chestnut curls looked like they hadn't seen a brush in days, and knowing how busy he'd been setting up his classroom and getting ready for the school year, it probably had been that long. "Okay, Becca Bug. We need to fix this hair, now run and grab your brush so we can head out. Daddy can't be late for the first day of school," he said with his hands on his hips trying to put on as serious a face as possible, the action nearly impossible with a giggling six year old running from him. He couldn't help but think, "this is gonna be a long year."

By the time the pair made their way to the school Becca was practically buzzing with excitement. Gone was the shy and somewhat scared six year old he found laying in her bed this morning, Rebecca Dolores Barnes "but you can call me Becca please" had taken her place. The pair didn't make it as early as they normally would today but Bucky had the opportunity to walk Becca to her classroom before returning to his own to greet his students. 

Steve Rogers opened his classroom door as he heard the excited tone of Rebecca Barnes approaching. "UNCLE STEVE!! I'm in your class this year!" Becca shouted, practically flinging herself into his arms making Steve and Bucky laugh at her enthusiasm. The two offering a one-armed hug around Becca's small body. 

"Remember what I said this morning, Becca- bug," Bucky said somewhat sternly, making sure to look her in the eye. Where her sudden sass came from, Bucky had no clue, because next thing he knew his daughter was rolling her eyes and sighing, "I know daddy, he's Mr. Rogers when I'm in his class and at school."

Steve tried his best to suppress his laugh with a cough. Steve knew where she got her attitude from. It was a perfect (read: deadly) combination of Bucky, Dot and Becca's namesake her Auntie Bex, Bucky's sister. Not him though....she definitely wasn't influenced by her Uncle Steve...not one bit.

 Bucky cut his eyes at Steve, trying to get him to realize that he was serious about teaching Becca what she needed to know at school, when he recognized the slow flow of students entering the halls. The first day of first grade had started. Bucky turned to Becca and wrapped his daughter in a hug, "Alright, Becca. Be on your best behavior for Mr. Rogers, learn lots of things, make new friends, I'll see you at lunch. I love you to infinity and beyond, Becca-Bug."

"I love you to the moon and back a kajillion times, daddy!" Becca responded, squeezing her dad tight before kicking her feet to try and get down and enter her classroom. That was Bucky's cue. He gave Steve a final hug before heading to his classroom. As the kids approached, Bucky greeted them and the people dropping them off. Most of the kids were excited to see some of their friends from Kindergarten again, others were already in the process of making new friends. Bucky continued through the line of students and guardians, avoiding the occasional flirting by some of the moms thrown his way, when he reached the final student in line.

She was looking at her feet, suddenly preoccupied by the pink converse on her feet and trying to avoid his eye, her fingers finding interest in picking at the sequins on her pink unicorn shirt. A throat cleared from behind the young girl. Bucky saw black heels first, followed by a black pantsuit, a white blouse and finally a  slightly concerned face looking down at the young girl. You bent down to get to her level and whispered something in her ear, the girl looking up at Bucky quickly but promptly turning her face into your shirt. You looked up at him with an apologetic look on your face. Luckily, Bucky knew what to do.

He bent down slowly, and stretched out his hand, "Hi, I'm Mr. Barnes and welcome to the first grade. We've got a lot of fun things we're going to do this year." The little girl poked her head out under your arm, looking at Bucky's outstretched hand as if it might attack her any second. You took that moment to nudge her, nodding your head when she looked at you like she wanted to say something. 

The little girl took a deep breath, poking her chest out and thrusting her palm out to meet Bucky's, "My name is Avery Claire L/N, and I am six years old. It is very nice to meet you, thank you," she stated, stumbling over her words a little but when she was done she looked at you, almost for approval. You shook your head at your daughter's silliness. What Bucky didn't know is that Avery had been practicing for days how she wanted to introduce herself, she'd seen her mother do it a million times and she wanted to get it just right.

"Well, Avery, it is very nice to meet you, are you ready to go make some new friends and have a great year," Bucky asked, gesturing to the classroom door behind him where the other students were already talking and playing with each other. Avery poked her head around his legs to get a better look, obviously something sparked her interest cause the next thing you knew she was giving your legs a squeeze and yelling, "bye mommy! Love you!" as she ran into Bucky's classroom.

Bucky laughed at her enthusiasm, she reminded him of Becca. He turned to face you, extended his hand and said, "I look forward to teaching Avery this year, as I said I'm Mr. Barnes. It's nice to meet you, Mrs. L/N."

 The corner of your lip twitched upwards, almost like you wanted to smirk at his assumption that you were married, and you reached your hand out to give his a firm shake before stating, "It's Ms. L/N. Y/N L/N. And I look forward to hearing all about the joys of first grade, Mr. Barnes."Bucky swore his face lost all color. The blood drained out of his face so fast the second he heard her full name. He'd heard of Y/N L/N. Who the hell hadn't. She ran L/N Enterprises and was known as one of the most ruthless executives in New York. Your smirk turned into a smile full of teeth, a smile Bucky was sure you'd perfected in all sorts of business deals and meetings over the years. 

Or maybe it was one you reserved just for people when they found out who you were, your reputation obviously preceding you, Bucky couldn't help but think to himself. He opened his mouth to respond but you cut him off as your phone started to ring, "thank you for the introduction, Mr. Barnes. And thank you for your work this morning with Avery, she's a little shy and I'm not entirely certain where she got that from. I'm sure we'll see each other soon." You turned down the hall, heels tapping the linoleum flooring as you answered the phone with a harsh, "What?"

As Bucky watched you walk away he let out a sigh he didn't know he'd been holding in since you introduced yourself. "This really is gonna be a long year." 

~~~~~~~

I don’t have a taglist for this fic yet, but if you’d like to be added just let me know!

[writerpeach]

Foot Fault

IZ*ONE Kim Minju x Male Reader

categories: smut, foot fetish, daddy kink, quickie

1818 words

Kim Minju struggled to keep her balance, running back and forth, trying to return shot after shot, hardly having enough strength into her racket to hit the ball over the net. 

“You can do better than that, Minju!” you said, winding back your arm and smacking the torn tennis ball back into the corner of the opposing backcourt. Minju barely made it in time, almost tripping on the asphalt, using all the power in her body to thwack the ball back. But it put her out of position, and she could only see the ball zoom past her as she desperately swung her racket, only hitting the air as the ball crashed into the ground out of reach.

Game, set, match. 

Minju looked utterly defeated as she loosened the grip of her racket and hung her head down in shame.

“Good game, Minguri. You’re getting better.” 

Minju had a hard time believing it. She couldn’t help being frustrated, even if it was just a casual game with no stakes. It was hard to hide the pout on her face. “Minju never gets to win.” 

“We’ll practice more, you’ll win one. Everyone has to start somewhere.” 

“Impossible. You’re just too good, I can’t keep up,” Minju frowned, as she sat down on a chair outside the tennis court fence, opened a bottle of water, and crossed her beautiful long legs.

“Practice makes perfect. You’ll be better than me in no time.” Minju laughed, almost sarcastically, and leaned back against the chain-link fence. She looked like a model as she basked in the sun’s rays and kept herself hydrated. Today, she opted for a simple white skirt and top that only added to her signature angelic look. 

“That skirt looks great on you,” you said, admiring the way her hourglass body looked.

“You’re just saying that because it shows off my legs.” 

“You caught me.” Minju wasn’t wrong. You couldn’t take your eyes off them. You loved how soft and creamy they looked, and you missed the way they draped over your shoulders or wrapped around your body. Just the sight of them made your mouth salivate. 

“My feet hurt, daddy. You made me chase the ball so much!” Minju whined. It wasn’t often she dropped that pet name in public, unless she was needy or frustrated. 

“Poor baby. Want me to rub them and make you feel better?” 

“Yes, you better! But not here, daddy. Let’s go back to the apartment.” 

“Why not here? They’re going to hurt more when you have to walk back to the car.”

“But there’s people watching. It can wait.” 

“Who’s watching? I booked the court for two hours, and we still have an hour left. Plus…your feet look really delicious today.” 

Minju’s cheeks reddened. “Thank you, daddy. Do you like my new pedicure? I know you like this color a lot.” 

“Of course. Your toes look so pretty. And it’s always good to have a little meal after exercise.” 

The praise put a smile on Minju’s gorgeous features. “But we’ve been in the sun so long, they’re so sweaty. We’ll go home and shower, and they’ll be nice and clean for you.” 

“No, I like them like this. That just means they’ll taste better.” 

Meeting Minju’s innocent gaze, you lowered yourself down onto the ground and onto your knees, inches away from the most prestigious prize—her beautiful creamy feet. She dangled her black sandals, as if both to tease and tantalize, to make your mouth water even more, but gave you the honors of removing them. 

It wasn’t long until you took a necessary long breath and pulled MInju’s sandals off one by one. Leaving her completely barefoot, you just gawked at how perfect her feet were as they could breathe, freed to bathe in the sunlight that kissed her pristine skin. 

Minju lifted her feet up, and wiggled her long painted toes, letting your eyes gander and inspect every inch of them, from her delicate arches to her smooth, soft soles, to her immaculate heels. Feet like this belonged to a goddess, worthy of all the praise, adoration, and worship that she deserved. Not a single imperfection or tainted by a solitary blemish, the very definition of perfection. And you couldn’t wait to dive in.  

It was hard to know where to start. Minju’s soft skin was made to taste, lick, and kiss, but you had to start somewhere—so you grabbed one petite foot and kissed the smooth heel. But one kiss wasn’t enough. You brought Minju’s gorgeous foot to your face, planted a kiss on her silky smooth sole, and inhaled. 

The much desired aroma was intoxicating. Desperately, you needed more as you brought both perfect feet closer to your face, burying your face into the soft soles and inhaling deeply, an exquisite perfume that couldn’t be reproduced, a natural scent that you wanted to live in your nostrils. 

“They don’t smell bad, do they?” Minju asked, with much concern on her face. One more deep whiff demonstrated you loved the way they smelled, before you kissed up and down, and gave equal attention to each of her feet. 

“They never do. I love everything about them.” Soft kisses planted on her delicate soles grew hungrier, which caused lust to awaken in you when you licked Minju’s arches, swiping your tongue up and down the wonderful texture of her creamy soles. Your tongue worked patiently and cleaned up every drop of sweat, making sure not to miss a drop, savoring the salty taste and treated Minju’s feet like a five-course meal. 

Minju just looked down and enjoyed every moment. Her pretty toes were the highlight of it all, and you couldn’t resist the way the beautiful white polish shined in the sunlight, beckoning for a taste, a succulent buffet that never closed. Words could never describe the absolute flawless nature of Minju’s feet, beautiful toes shaped so well, so appetizing that they belonged in your mouth during every waking second. 

The wiggling of Minju’s toes was more fuel added to an uncontrollable blaze. Your feast continued—lips sealed tightly around her big toe, you suckled intensely, and swirled your tongue around, lapping up the sweet taste, releasing it just for a moment to give her warm sole one more lick, before snatching it back in your mouth. 

“Ah, fuck—” Minju moaned out, trying not to be too loud, but her body betrayed her. 

Minju’s succulent toes in your mouth were the very definition of heaven. Each one carried their own distinctive taste and texture, and the perspiration left on them was nothing but an additional morsel of deliciousness. Taking your time, you catered to each individual toe, slobbering on them until they glistened with your saliva and licked in between, gathering more flavor to feed your insatiable appetite. There was no meal that compared to Minju’s feet in your mouth. 

Not one spot was left without a lick or a kiss, not one toe unsucked, and you didn’t leave an inch of bare feet untouched by your lips. And yet, you couldn’t help but crave more. You could worship Minju’s feet until the end of time. 

“Do you wanna fuck my feet, daddy? I can see how hard they’ve made you.” An obvious question that only had one answer. After planting several more kisses on her feet, you stood up and reached for the waistband of your shorts, desperate to free them off your waist. Minju’s soft soles interrupted you and pressed against your crotch, rubbing the noticeable bulge.

“Wait, let me.” Not one to deny her, you lifted your shirt up enough as she used her talented toes to grab your shorts, pulling them down to your ankles, then repeated this with your boxers, letting your painfully hard cock spring free. Kim Minju had many talents. 

With your cock now freed to the warm air, Minju’s toes curled and pressed up against your swollen head, teasing your dripping slit, and played with your balls carefully while she watched the look in your eyes, her feet spreading the leaking precum everywhere. 

Minju might not have been good at tennis, but she sure as hell knew how to pleasure your cock with just her feet. Expertly wrapped around your throbbing shaft, and her toes worked together to deliver heavenly bliss. Her delicate feet squeezed your cock with just the right amount of pressure, rubbing her toes up and down your shaft enough to rile you up, urging you to take the next step and finish the job. 

“Come on, daddy, fuck my pretty little feet. I know you’re just dying to bust all over them.”

Minju always knew the right things to say. Unable to stay idle much longer, you grabbed her ankles—the scrunched soles of her feet were lubricated enough from the mixture of sweat and saliva, and formed a perfect gap to vigorously thrust into, the velvety surface driving you crazy. 

“That’s so hot, daddy. I can feel your cock twitching. Fuck those pretty feet until you blast all over my toes.” 

It was driving you crazy, the intense friction created from sliding in between Minju’s feet, so warm and wet with saliva that every stroke filled your body with electricity. It wouldn’t be much longer—fucking Minju’s gorgeous feet sent you spiraling out of control, so much that you felt lost in the heavenly sensations, only taking minor glances into her eyes to distract you, but there was no denying you were about to erupt. 

“Cum for me, daddy! Please use Minju’s feet to explode. Cum all over my pretty little feet, cover them in your thick load, please, daddy!” 

You couldn’t resist Minju’s whines and pleads for your cum, the soft angelic voice desperate for it, craving it more than oxygen. But it didn’t matter. You reached your limits with one more frantic series of thrusts, as you furiously stroked your cock between her delicious toes while Minju kept her feet up in the air, ready and willing to receive your climax. 

Throbbing spurts blasted in succession and painted Minju’s toes in a different shade of white, milky semen clung to the tops of both feet equally, and covered her beautiful skin. Minju gripped your tip with her sticky toes, surrounding it on all sides and squeezed up and down your shaft, coercing more cum from your balls, not wanting a single drop left behind. 

“Thank you, daddy,” Minju said, proudly displaying the creamy mess left on her feet, before she wiggled her toes, letting you see your cum dripping on them as she rubbed them together, using your load as her favorite lotion. “Maybe I should keep losing if it means daddy gets to worship my feet.” 

“You don’t have to lose for me to do that. It’s still pretty hot out, but we’ve still got some time left. One more round? Then we’ll see how nice their showers are.” 

[lovergiirlsblog]

YOU DID NOT!!

GIF credits: @mountsmason

This is my very first imagine on here also English isn’t my first language!

in which England and Y/N’s national team play against each other.

Y/n’s love for her country is indescribable,she would watch every single game of Y/C national team and whenever they score she would jump around like a 5 year old,shower Mason with kisses and give him million hugs.

Mason loved how passionate she can get and adored her energy. They were convinced that their neighbours hate them because of how loud they cheer during the game as if they were in a stadium. But today it’s a bit different, since England is playing against Y/C. And he didn’t have to ask her about who she’s supporting since he already knew the answer.

“Good morning,loser !” She jumped on top of him and wrapped her hands around his naked waist” I made you breakfast and don’t worry i didn’t put poison in it. I still love you” she joked. He opened one eye and smiled softly “Good morning baby, thank you for not putting poison in my food” he kissed her nose and observed her for a while then pointed at her national team shirt that she was wearing “ This. I don’t like this missus. It’s really hurting my eyes” she looked down at her kit and got up faking an annoyed face.

“You’re just jealous mount” she stated and was heading back downstairs.

“Jealous?who ? Me? Oh I’m just trying to protect you from the disappointment because you have really high hopes and I’m sure you won’t be too happy by the end of the day”He replied acting offended.

Minutes later, Mason joined her in the kitchen and they set up the table together.

“I wish I didn’t have to work tomorrow so I can watch the game at the stadium” she took a sip from her juice “ oh and by the way Sarah is coming over later , I thought it would be fun to watch it together. You know her husband will be your opponent and we’re both supporting him”

“Oh please do ! I really don’t want you gloomy on your own. I wonder how many goals am I going to score” he teased then faked a scream when she playfully hit his leg.

After they talked about random stuff Mason looked at his watch and declared “ Oh look at the time , i have to get ready. I’ll leave in 30 minutes”. He then quickly put the dishes in the sink and ran upstairs. Y/N’s gaze followed him and then her eyes fell on their wedding picture that was hanging on the wall and she wondered how she got so lucky to have such an understanding husband. He hasn’t forced to support him or his team on this game because he knew how keen she was on her team. Her smile grew wild when she saw their dog Leo approaching her “Good morning love. Are we hungry ? Let’s get you something to eat”

20 minutes later Mason’s footsteps’ echo on the stairs was heard. “Leaving too soon ?”Y/N softly lifted Leo’s head who was laying on her lap, and walked towards her husband. “Yeah I’ve got to pick up Dec.You know how long it takes for him to get ready”. She got along with his friends and teammates especially Declan and chilly and he was thankful for that.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and his found their way to her waist. “ Come home safe baby” she pecked his lips and it didn’t take him seconds to kiss her back, she could feel him smiling against her lips. “I love you” he put her hair behind her ear,his eyes locked on hers,then he caressed her chin and kissed her forehead “ I love you more I’ll see you tonight. Don’t miss me too much”

She watched him put his bags in the car from the front door and thought of how each day she has loved him a little bit more than the other for 5 summers now. “Mason ?” He turned around as he heard his name being called “Good luck” her sentence came out almost as a whisper. He just smirked at her and got in the car.

Later in the evening, she had a zoom meeting with a client and then opened the TV even though the game starts in 3 hours and waited for Sarah to come over. Then her phone buzzed.

2 hours later She was making popcorn with Sarah who has just arrived.

“I can’t believe you’re not supporting Mason” she said and let out a laugh. “Hey I’m supporting Mason but I’m not supporting Mason’s team”. Sarah put down the popcorn bowl on the table and put a handful in her mouth “That’s the same thing tho”

Y/N ignored her comment and focused on the game that was starting.

The first half was pretty crazy both teams were playing well and looking for a chance to score a goal. But at the beginning of the second half Sarah’s husband scored a penalty and she screamed out of her lungs. Y/N was jubilant and hugged Sarah who was crying from joy. “That’s my man !”. The camera was now on Mason who was sweaty and pissed off. 30 minutes later into the second half, Harry Kane scored the equaliser with an assist from Mason. The girl was pacing back and forth in the living room and biting her nails .The tension got really high on the pitch and both teams were eager to win. There was only 5 minutes left and the score was still 1-1. Y/N went to the kitchen to grab a cup of water when she heard the commentator screaming Mason’s name and she ran towards the TV to see Mason’s teammates hugging him as he refused to celebrate. Y/N was really sad because of the result but her eyes became glossy when she saw Mason’s reaction after the goal. She never thought he wouldn’t celebrate his first goal this season with the national team because of her. “ we’re screwed but man that was cute” Sarah commented and hugged Y/N as tears were now streaming down her cheeks. The game ended with England’s victory and Y/N didn’t change the channel as she was talking with Sarah about the game. “And now we’re with the golden duo Mason Mount and Declan Rice. What a performance you guys ! Especially you Mount” Both of the girls turned their attention back on the TV at the mention of Mason’s name who was smiling at the interviewer “Thank you. It was a tough game. Both teams were attacking and creating chances but thankfully we got to score our winning goal minutes before the end of the game” his hair was wet from the shower and his cheeks were burning red from all of the running. “ Mason you didn’t celebrate the goal earlier. Can we talk about that ? People wonder what’s the reason behind that” Mason looked down at his feet, blushed and ran his hands through his hair” My missus is from Y/C and she really is a huge fan of the team. Couldn’t break her heart twice” Awwh were heard from Declan and the interviewer “ He just didn’t want to sleep on the sofa tonight” Declan joked. Y/N and Sarah laughed at dec’s comment. Then the players head to the cantine to have dinner and Sarah went back home.

Y/N wasn’t happy about the result but she was really proud of her man who worked hard and has dreamt of this moment from his debut with the national team. She really wished for him to score even if it’s against her country but she has kept it to herself. She was cuddling Leo and smiling like an idiot as Mason’s act didn’t quit her thoughts.

“Your daddy is a true gentleman,isn’t he ? “ she petted him“ he will be back soon and we can all cuddle together”

[forever-rogue]

His + Hers

Summary | You didn’t want a bodyguard and certainly didn’t need one. Bucky didn’t want the job. But as soon as the two of you meet, all bets are off.

Pairing | Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 4.2k

Warnings | language (including light degradation, possessive!Bucky, smut (oral - f receiving, piv) - minors dni or you will be blocked

Masterlists | Bucky, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I don’t need anyone to watch over me,” rolled eyes and loudly snapped gum. Crossed legs and an anxiously jiggling foot. The aging clock ticked loudly as your gaze burned into the giant dual monitors that shielded the man on the other side. He had just oh so casually dropped some horrible news to you. 

What was his name? Jeff? Jeffrey? Jefferson? It didn’t matter. Funny. For a man that you’d seen more often than your father in recent years, you’d think you might have remembered his name. Despite all that you still hadn’t seen him more than four, save five, times.

“Those are your father’s wishes.”

“Then why isn’t he here telling me this?”

“He’s a very busy man.”

“A man too busy to see own daughter, his own child, always work, work, working,” you spat, “what he could be doing that’s so important that he couldn’t even spare me fifteen minutes of his time?”

“He’s-”

“It was a rhetorical question,” you stood up and grabbed your bag, “sometimes it still shocks me that a man that claims he loves me so much he barely speaks to me, sees me. I don’t want this bodyguard - if you send them to me I will simply send them away. Don’t waste my time or theirs.”

“Your father is going to send someone regardless of your wishes, you must know this by now.”

“Tell him if he’s so insistent upon me being chaperoned like a puppy that he can come and talk to me himself,” you threw your shoulders back as you tried to chase away emotions or feelings. This was not the time or place for them, “see you in another six months for so.”

“Miss -”

You slammed the door shut before he could say anything else. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“This is fuckin’ ridiculous,” Bucky’s groan was heavy - irritated - as he trudged up the stairs to the ninth freaking floor. Of course you couldn’t live somewhere near the bottom. Of course the elevator was broken, “I’m gonna murder you, Wilson.”

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, he calmed himself with every single step. Left foot, right foot, and repeat. Before he knew it, he arrived on your floor, less angry but still annoyed. 

Bucky looked around for your apartment number, finding it quickly but wishing he hadn't. It was supposed to be a simple job - hang around you for a little while until things calmed down around your father. There was never any huge threat to you, but you were to be kept safe anyway. Typical rich people, he practically rolled his eyes. Complete idiot, he sighed at himself. He could have walked away from the gig easily, but things had been quiet after everything in New York and he needed something fresh. Naturally he’d say yes to this when Sam mentioned the job to him. 

Once he found your apartment he slowly trudged through the hall, his mind all but made up about you already. You were going to be nothing more than a spoiled little brat. He looked at the golden number above your door and sighed heavily before knocking loudly. 

For a few moments, nothing but silence met his ears before he finally heard what he was sure was annoyed grumbling inside accompanied by soft footsteps. The door was whipped open and Bucky came face to face with you. 

Your brows knitted together as you studied him before crossing your arms over your chest, “can I help you?”

“James Barnes,” his name practically came out as a sigh. You raised your eyebrows at him but remained silent.

“And?” you asked as you moved to close the door, “I’m in the middle of my fifth zoom meeting of the day and annoyed and hungry. Thanks for wasting my time. Have a fantastic day.”

Before you could slam the door in his face, Bucky stuck his foot in the doorway and prevented you from closing it. A huff escaped your lips as you glared at him through the crack, “your father sent me. I’m supposed to look after you.”

“Ahh yes,” you rolled your eyes and frowned, “the baby-sitter my father hired. I told him and his assistant that I don’t want - or need - anything to watch me. I’m fine. So if you don’t mind you can leave. I’m busy and don’t have time to deal with you.”

“You don’t pay me sweetheart,” he scoffed lightly as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. You wanted a challenge? He’d give you one, “and as long as that’s the case, I stay.”

“I’ll double whatever he paid you.”

“Oh honey, I doubt you could ever afford that.”

“What can I do to get you to leave?”

“Nothing.”

“It really doesn’t seem like you want to be here either so why don’t we both do ourselves a favor and cut the shit?”

“Not until your father tells me it’s okay to leave,” he smirked, “I don’t take orders from little girls, sweetheart. Nor do you pay my bills.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re a bitch,” your mouth opened into a little pout as you attempted to shut the door on his foot, “you can shut the door, it won’t hurt me. I’ll just tear it down if I have to.”

“Are you serious?!”

“Want to find out?” he asked as you threw your head back and sighed at the ceiling. Yes and no. You wanted to push his buttons and see how far you could press. But you also didn’t have the energy to deal with it. Instead you slowly, ever so reluctantly opened the door, refusing to move but motioning for him to come in. He practically sauntered in with a victorious little smirk on his lips, “good girl.”

You were to let him have it when he turned around to face you and finally got the chance to study him. And your jaw almost hit the floor. Fuck. 

He was handsome - dark hair and the bluest eyes you’d ever seen with a five o’clock shadow. He was dressed in very well fitting jeans, along with a henley and leather jacket. So casual but he managed to make it look so good. For a moment you thought he looked familiar but you couldn’t quite place. Maybe you’d seen him around somewhere. 

Well, this presented a whole new predicament. This would have been so much easier if he hadn’t been one of the most gorgeous men you’d laid eyes on.

“Like what you see?” 

“I’m not into old men,” you cocked your head to the side and watched him with a smirk. Bucky almost tripped up and let an emotion slip but instead he remained pointedly neutral as he looked you up and down. 

It would have been easier to dislike and hate you entirely if you weren’t so damn cute. You were dressed in a comfy, oversized sweater and joggers and big fuzzy socks - casual and cute but effortlessly so. It was a challenge not to stare. 

“Whatever you say,” he held up his hands in mock defeat as you became momentarily placated, “what’s the plan for today?”

“I have a job and things to do,” you huffed as you pushed past him, “so just do something or whatever and stay out of my way. If you insist on being here.”

“I do.”

“This is going to be fucking hell, isn’t it?”

“It can be whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart!”

“Sure thing, doll.”

"I hate you already.”

“The feelings’ mutual, honey.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hating Bucky was a full time job. Bucky having to chaperone you through all of your shenanigans was a full time job. Both of you were incredibly stubborn and damn near made the job impossible. 

You'd be lying if it said he wasn't attractive and that you hadn't thought about him. Especially late at night. Alone in bed. But you'd rather die than admit that to him. 

Bucky had a feeling he'd break you down eventually; not that he expected anything to come of it. He enjoyed flirting with you and watching you get frazzled and nervous. But you weren't his type. Nuh uh - Bucky Barnes wasn't into pretty little spoiled brats. Even if they weren't attractive and smart and genuinely kind underneath it all. 

That wasn't part of the job. Which was why he never let it go past anything that could be deemed as flirtatious.

Just as he vowed to break you down and just admit you liked him, you might have had a little goal of your own…

"Come on," Bucky sighed as he paced around your living room, waiting for you to come out of the bedroom so you could pizza and watch movies. It had become somewhat of a Friday night tradition, reluctantly so. It was hard to get out and have a lot of fun when you had a silent, intimidating brooding man following you around, "how long does it take to change?"

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes as you opened your bedroom door and stepped out, slipping on your heels, "I'm ready."

Bucky's eyes widened as he looked you over. You were wearing a little black dress and fuck me heels along with ruby red lips and a full face of makeup. He fought back a little growl as you smirked at him, "what the fuck are you wearing?"

"Its called a dress, genius."

"To get pizza so we can come back and watch movies?"

"That's not the plan," you straightened up and walked past him, grabbing your purse and jacket.

"You said-"

"I lied," you stated the obvious, "I'm going out to finally have some fun. Without you."

"I'm coming with you," he crossed his arms over his broad chest as you tried not to stare, "that's the job, sweetheart."

"And I'd like to actually have fun and get laid," you threw your hands up, "its hard to do that with you breathing down my neck constantly! If you insist, can you at least like stay ten feet away. Give me a fucking break."

His breath had hitched in his throat as soon as he heard the words get laid and he worked to keep it together. He sighed as he forced himself not to imagine you underneath, naked and begging for more. 

"Fine," he agreed reluctantly, "ten feet only."

"Thank fuck."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

One drink had turned into two which easily turned into three and after that you’d both lost count. Bucky had been sitting at the bar, a singular, but arbitrary drink in his hand as he watched you get progressively looser as the evening wore on. His steely gaze almost never left yours as he watched you chat up people around you. You were naturally extroverted, and definitely a flirt - but then again maybe that was the alcohol - and it wore Bucky out trying to keep an eye on you. He wasn’t terribly concerned about what was going on, but still, he was a man that took his job seriously.

It wasn’t until he decided that it was fine to let you out of his sight for a few moments only to turn back and found you missing. A growl bubbled up in his throat as he scanned the tightly packed pace and found you in the middle of the dance floor. You were pressed against a man that had been eyeing you up since you’d gotten there, mouths smashed together as you kissed him like your life depended on it. Your arms were wrapped around his neck and his hands were on your ass the entire time.  

As soon as you ground up against him, something in Bucky snapped. He threw back the rest of his drink and quickly made his way over to you. The people in his path parted like the seas when they noticed the predatory expression in his eyes. Before you could even realize what had happened, you felt a hand tightly squeeze your shoulder. A gasp left your lips as Bucky pulled you away from your newfound friend.

“What the fuck!” you glared at him as the man that just had his hands all over you grew visibly nervous. Bucky grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him close, “Bucky!”

“Keep your filthy fuckin’ hands off of her, you understand?” he growled at the man as he just nodded, “I ever see you near her again and you’re dead. You leave my girl alone.”

Bucky shoved him away and the man practically skittered across the bar and out the door without so much as a single glance back. Breathing angrily, he turned around to find you staring at him in awe, arms over your chest. You were suddenly incredibly sober, “what the hell was that? I’m not your fucking girl, Bucky.”

“We’re going home. Now,” he reached for your hand and held your wrist in a tight grip as he dragged you without another word. You wanted to argue with him and fight back, but there was something about his possessive nature that had sent a shiver down your spine and a rush of warmth to your core as you let him pull you along like a ragdoll. 

Maybe your dangerous little plan was finally going to turn into reality.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Are you going to finally tell me what’s going on?” you asked as you walked back into your apartment, trailing after Bucky and slamming the door shut, “you chased off my only chance of-”

Before you could say anything else, Bucky’s hands found your waist and he crashed his lips onto yours in a bruising tangle of tongue and teeth. You responded with a surprised moan as he backed you up against the wall, making sure you didn’t hit your head. 

“He’s a fuckin’ boy,” he insisted as he lightly gripped your throat, causing you to part your lips as you fought back a moan, “he wouldn’t have made you cum. Probably doesn’t even know where your pretty little clit is.”

“And you would?” you challenged, already knowing exactly where this was leading. Something in your mind told you that this was wrong and you should have stopped it, but the larger part of you really just wanted him. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it for weeks and weeks now, touching yourself late at night to the thought of him. Bucky smiled at you - a dangerous, toothy, wicked thing causing you to swallow thickly, “I don’t think you could. You’re all talk, Bucky. Probably haven’t even been laid since the 40s.”

“Don’t act like you don’t want this too, sweetheart,” he whispered in your ear before trailing kisses along your jaw and down your neck, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin, making it a point to mark you up. That way everyone would know you were his. He rutted his lips lightly against yours, and you could already feel how hard he was, “I see the way you look at me - I know you’ve thought about me. Probably touched that pretty pussy of yours and wished it was my cock, huh little girl?”

“Bucky,” his name was nothing more than a whimper of your lips as you tried to reach down and touch yourself. He was quick to grab your hand and pull it away. You whimpered as he just chuckled darkly. Oh, how easily he could break you down with just a few words, “please. Need you.”

“I’ll give you what you need,” he swore as he watched you with hungry eyes. He shimmied up your dress and moved to touch you. His smirk only grew when he noticed you’d forgone panties, “look at you, such a little slut. You didn’t even put on panties? You really wanted this, didn’t you? Were you just hoping I’d touch you? I bet you had this whole thing planned out - just wanted me to fuck you, didn’t you?”

You looked at him with wide doe eyes but remained silent as you tried to play coy. But he was having none of it, and grabbing your jaw, “answer me.”

“Mhmm..,just want you,” you admitted as he slowly let go before grabbing both of your wrists in his vibranium hand and pinning them above your head, “just touch me.”

And he did - slowly, he dragged his fingers through your folds, smirking at how wet you already were, “oh honey, you’re practically dripping. So wet already, and I’ve barely even touched you. Such a good little slut.”

Your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of him circling your clit slowly before feeling your soaked folds and sliding a thick finger inside. A small sound of surprise reached his ears as you almost rutted into his hand and he easily slid another finger in. The stretch from his fingers was enough to spark the warmth in your belly as you bit your lip to keep from whining. 

“Look at you, such a needy little thing,” you could hear the smirk in his voice as he fucked with his fingers, “but you’re not going to cum on my fingers. I’m going to see if you taste as sweet as you look. Gonna make ruin that pussy for anyone else. You’re mine - you understand?”

“‘m yours,” you whimpered as he let go of your hands and slowly sank to his knees in front of you. His large hands, a contrast of warm and cool, splayed on your thighs before slowly traveling up to your hips and grabbing them in a bruising grasp. This man was really working to make sure he would remain all over you. He pressed a few kisses to your thighs before stopping at your mound, and you could feel his warm breath fanning across on your pussy, “please.”

“That’s right, you can be a good girl,” he didn’t even hesitate for a moment before diving in and licking a stripe up your folds, causing sparks to shoot throughout your spine. You could feel him smirking against you at the immediate effect he had as he ate you out like a man starving. 

Bucky Barnes was not a shy man when it came to eating pussy. He licked and suckled on your clit as he let two of his cool vibranium fingers slide into your pussy. He crooked them just right, effortlessly finding your g-spot as your knees threatened to buckle. No one man had ever made you feel this good before, nor so easily. 

“F-fuck,” you hissed as he pulled back and look at the blissed out expression on your face, “more please.”

“Look at you pretty little thing,” he grinned as he pressed a few wet, sloppy kisses to your mound. He pulled his fingers from you before reaching up and practically ripping your dress off. If you’d hadn’t been so close to cumming, you would have yelled at him, but in the moment you didn’t care. Especially not as his hands found your breasts and massaged them before he played with your pert nipples, causing you to arch into his touch, “not wearing a bra either. You are bad.”

“‘m so close,” you whined as he just smirked at you. Before you could say anything else he slapped your pussy, causing you to jump slightly before you keened into his touch, silently asking for more. 

“You like that, honey?” he teased as you nodded with closed eyes, your mouth forming a small o. He repeated the motion before he grabbed your ass and buried his face back into your pussy. You moaned into his touch, bucking your hips against his mouth as he made all the most sinful noises as he ate you out like his life depended it on. He worked pure magic with only his tongue and he soon had you seeing stars as your legs started to shake around him. He anchored you to him and kept you from falling down as he brought on your orgasm, “that’s it honey. You’re going to cum all over my face, going to taste all that pretty pussy has to offer.” 

“F-f-fuck,” you reached down and carded a hand through his dark hair as you held him against you, “jesus.”

“Cum for me,” he commanded and you did just as you were told, crying out his name like a prayer as you felt your release wash over you. Bucky stayed between your legs as you came all over him, cleaning up every little bit you had, not stopping until you were begging him to stop from the over stimulation, “tastes like fuckin’ candy. Best pussy I ever tasted.” 

“Jesus,” your chest was heaving as he kissed his way up your body. He stopped at your lips and offered you a victorious little smirk, “you’re an asshole but at least you know how to eat pussy.”

He grabbed your chin in his hand and forced you to look at him, “you’re mine - this pussy is mine and no one else’s, you understand, little brat?”

“Ruin me then,” you raised your eyebrows before you kissed him again, trying to beat him at his own little game. But it was no use - he was easily more dominant and held control over you, “make me yours.”

“Turn around,” he growled as he flipped you in his arms and pressed you against the wall. You moaned as his hands mapped out every curve of your body before you felt the sharp sting of his hand on your ass. Just to spur him on a little more, you bounced your ass and he slapped you a few more times before massaging your skin to soothe the pain, “you like it when it hurts. God, you’re perfect. My little slut.”

“Please fuck me. Need you so bad,” you practically whined but quickly grinned when you heard him undo his belt and pants before he pulled his cock out.  He groaned in your ear as you heard him stroke himself a few times.

“‘m so fucking hard, baby,” he ran the tip of his cock through your folds and you could already feel how big he was, “got me leakin’ already. Thought about you and that smart little mouth so many times. Always cum so hard when I think about you. Can’t wait to see how good this pussy feels squeezing my cock. You’re going to take all of me, little thing.”

He coated his length with your arousal - you were already so wet again - before slapping his cock against your ass. You tried to reach around so you could touch him but he slapped your hand out of the way. 

“Put your cock in me,” you practically begged and before you could say anything else, he plunged into you, causing you to practically scream in surprise. He didn’t stop until he was fully sheathed inside of you, feeling like he was practically splitting you apart. The burn quickly faded away as you moaned and clenched your walls around him, “fuck, you’re so big.”

“Did you expect anything else, pretty baby?” he whispered in your ear before grabbing your hips again. He slowly pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back into you with no warning. You clawed at the wall as he set a brutal pace, slamming his hips into yours over and over again, letting you have almost no room to breath. The only sounds that left your lips were small whimpers and mewls he fucked you to an inch of your life. 

You felt the coolness of the vibranium snake around your body before he found your clit. You let him press you against the wall as he pounded into you, and you quickly left your second orgasm start to bubble up in your tummy. 

“Taking my cock so well,” he praised as he slowly played with your clit. He was not shy about being loud and moaning, all while murmuring filthy praise into your ear, “so tight - so perfect. This pussy was made for me.”

“More,” you begged in between breaths, “harder, please.”

“You want it harder, pretty baby? You’re not gonna be walkin’ after this,” he smirked before he picked the pace and fucked you even harder than before, which you hadn’t even thought possible, “good girl. Good fuckin’ girl. Gonna cum all over my cock?”

“Mhmm,” you agreed with a wistful smile, a fucked out expression on your face as you felt his cock twitch inside of you as your walls started to clench around him, “please, please, please.”

“Gonna fill you up,” he said through gritted teeth as he slowed his thrusts, making them slower and deeper than before, “gonna make sure you know who you belong to.”

It was a few more thrusts before you came again, crying out as the pleasure rippled through your body. Bucky came quickly after, grunting as he came inside of you, filling you up with hot ropes of his cum. He fucked you through it all, not stopping until you were feeling boneless and he had filled you with every last drop. 

He easily caught you just as you were about to collapse in his arms and pulled you against his chest as he pressed a few kisses to your shoulder. You reached behind you and carded a hand through his arm, scratched at his scalp as he continued to kiss your neck and shoulder.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you said as you tried to catch your breath, “that was incredible.”

“I told you I’d ruin every other man for you,” he slowly pulled out and turned you around so you were facing him. You put a hand under your chin and turned your face up to his, “you’re mine.”

“I’m your girl,” it was like music to his ears as you reached between your thighs and swiped his cum mixed with your arousal up and sucked it clean off your finger, “my pussy is yours and your cock is mine.”

“Good girl, “ he praised with a wicked smile, “now get on your knees and put that pretty mouth to use.”

“Yes sir.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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[jooniyah]

Lover Bouquet : One

Pairing: OT7 x Fem Reader

AU: Yandere!au, Idol!au

Genre: Angst, Mature, Smut (R)

Warnings: Two instances of NON CON, polyamory, established relationship, yandere behavior, pregnancy discussion, emotional abuse, violence, kidnapping, scandal, blood, degradation kink, mobbing, manipulation, profanity, group sex, oral, smut, cum play, groping

Word count: 19.58k

Disclaimer:  This is a work of fiction and I do not condone any of the actions of the characters in this fiction. This is to be treated as pure fantasy, and should not be misconstrued to be demeaning the idols in any way. If any of the above warnings cause you discomfort, kindly refrain from reading.

This is an idol au setting, please proceed only if you are not triggered by the warnings. I repeat, please be sure to read all the warnings carefully.

Author’s note: This fic is set in an au where the boys are part of a 7-member boy band called the Biker Boys Squad (BBS) and everything that follows is completely fictional with no intended resemblance to actual places, bands or agencies.

Cover credit: @maleficosmos-2 ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ, ˡᵒᵛᵉˡʸᵎ

─── ·❆· ───

The smooth roll of wheels outside had visibly no impact on the inside of the limousine. The shiny interior, complete with Italian leather and crystal wine glasses screamed luxury. The windows were completely tinted, reflecting the bright lights of every radiant storefront the car zoomed past.

The car smelt like heaven, a bouquet of smells fanning your nostrils and intoxicating you. Cologne, aftershave, hairspray, all the most delicious masculine smells danced around your senses, tugging at your inner coil that was slowly rearing its head up.

Namjoon was going through a little chit in his hand, mostly out of habit than necessity. He didn’t really depend on those notes, but it gave him a sense of security to know he had all the points in hand before stepping up to the mic.

“Hyung, add a line in English at the end for our International fans,” Taehyung said, peering over at the chit in Namjoon’s hand. The little note had words written in neat Korean letters, which the younger man glanced at.

“Yeah, will do, Tae,” the elder man responded, his hand reaching down to pat the head nestled in his crotch.

“Keep going, baby girl,” he said, gently ruffling your hair as he resumed scanning the chit. Taehyung and Jimin were sitting on either side of him, Jimin casually sipping the Cheval Blanc from his crystal glass, his pillowy pink lips made even glossier by the fine red wine.

You bobbed your head up and down Namjoon’s length, savoring his unique scent with your cheeks hollowed out around him, sucking deep and hard.

“Shit, that’s it, baby,” he hissed, too far gone to focus on his acceptance speech anymore.

Jimin smiled warmly, his hand snaking down to Namjoon’s lap. His fingers gripped your hair, and he tugged it gently, seeking control over your head. You obliged happily, letting him maneuver your head as he liked.

He slowly pushed you further and further down Namjoon’s shaft, his eyes trained on Namjoon’s face, watching his face twist in hunger. Jimin’s palm was flat against your skull, pushing you to gobble Namjoon’s cock without sparing an inch.

Yoongi was playing a game on his phone, and he looked up just in time to see you struggling against Jimin’s hand.

“Let her breathe, Jiminah,” he lazily scolded, his gummy smile out in full brilliance.

“N- no,” Namjoon panted, looking at Yoongi with pleading eyes. “So close- I’m so close.”

And with that, he groaned out loud, his hips bucking up subconsciously. He ground his body down to the leather seat, his legs trembling in the aftermath of his orgasm.

The hand pressing against your head stayed put, not budging until Namjoon’s legs stopped shivering. Namjoon leaned back and removed his glasses, wiping his hot forehead with a groan. The hand left your hair, moving down to caress your neck.

“Feeling good, hyung?” Jimin’s voice came to your ears like a song.

“You wouldn’t believe how good, Jiminie,” the elder man replied, his breaths coming out in strained intervals.

“Tch, baby…” Jimin said, handing you a Kleenex to wipe your mouth. “You left a drop on Hyung’s trousers.”

Namjoon snapped his head down, his eyes rolling when he saw the single blob of cum on his crotch.

“Damn, those paparazzi will roast us alive,” he murmured, reaching down to wipe it clean.

“No, Joonie,” you whined, hastening to dip your head back down on his crotch. Namjoon’s hand remained suspended in the air with his fingers grasping a tissue, his thigh muscles tensing up when you timidly licked a stripe on his expensive trousers, gathering the blob and sucking it up.

“Oh Y/N, you are so fucking naughty,” Jimin giggled, pulling you up so you could rest your knees.

“Come here, baby,” Yoongi said, his voice thick and raspy. He had waited patiently until Namjoon finished, and now he couldn’t wait a second longer.

Hoseok was sitting next to Yoongi, and the seats were somewhat cramped because four of them were sitting across from Namjoon. The limousine had been altered to their taste, but the seats were a bit smaller than needed.

“Here,” Jin extended his hand, pulling you so you could sit on his lap.

You took advantage of the brief moment to lock your lips against Jin’s neck.

“Hey, no hickeys,” he said, gently swatting at your shoulder. “It’s awards night. No hickeys.”

You puckered your lips up in disappointment. You were only pretending to bite him, just to see his eyes flash. Stern Jin was so fucking sexy.

Yoongi was in the far corner of the seat, and Jin being the smart guy he was, always found a solution.

“Lie down on our thighs,” he said, helping you sprawl yourself across the three sets of thighs, the tips of your toes resting on the owner of the fourth set.

Yoongi’s fingers worked quickly on his zipper, and Jimin’s clear voice teased, “Hyung, you’ll be wrinkling your Saint Laurent suit if you wiggle around too much.”

“Y/N is worth ruining a thousand Saint Laurent suits, Jiminah,” Yoongi quipped as he fished his dick out.

Jin’s long sensitive fingers drew soft circles on your calves, admiring your splendid legs. He brushed his fingers against the curve of your ass, finally settling down to squeeze and knead the firm flesh in his big palms.

The man next to Jin sighed heavily, looking out of the window and squinting through the tinted glass. He had a hard time trying to control himself, but the little toes that kept grazing his thighs distracted him. He bent his head, fighting himself to avoid looking at the sight around him. Of all the men in the limo, Jungkook was the only one who wasn’t staring at your body with simmering lust.

Yoongi was groaning, his hand fisting in your hair as he guided you to take him even deeper. He rested his head against Hoseok’s shoulder, closing his eyes and losing himself in bliss.

Hoseok gazed at Yoongi’s scrunched-up face with warm affection. He always felt supremely happy when Yoongi was having a good time. Your torso was laid on his lap, and he patted your back, encouraging you with soft whispers of praise.

“Yes, baby, that’s it keep going. You’re doing so good.”

Yoongi’s vein bulged alongside his cock, throbbing hard. He was straining so much, curling his toes inside his shoes.

“Gosh, I wanna get inside you,” he moaned, his voice coming out needy and whiny. Taehyung raised his eyebrows, whistling at his wristwatch.

“We’re gonna be on the red carpet in ten minutes, hyung,” he said, clucking his tongue. Yoongi opened his eyes, sending Jin his best pleading look right from his position on Hoseok’s shoulder.

Jin pursed up his pretty lips, looking down at your butt. It was not an easy feat to have full-on sex in the limo. As usual, he was the one who had to improvise a plan.

“Ten minutes is enough for a quickie,” Yoongi whined, his meat still lodged in your hot mouth.

“Okay okay, quit whining. Y/N baby, go sit on Namjoon’s lap,” Jin said, patting your ass. Namjoon looked up, removing his glasses and tucking them inside his breast pocket. He wished he had thought about asking Jin earlier.

You grinned and crawled over to Namjoon, cozying up with your back against his chest, his strong muscular arms spreading your legs wide open.

“All yours, hyung,” Namjoon said, nodding at Yoongi.

It was such a pretty sight to see your red lace undies completely soaked. Hoseok couldn’t hold on anymore, and his hand slipped down to palm himself through his pants.

Yoongi licked his lips, unbuckling his belt for better access. Your legs were already open for him, and Jimin had started caressing your clit with gentle touches. He crouched into a half-kneeling position, grazing his tip against your core.

“Please, just fuck me already,” you cooed, unable to bear Jimin’s teasing anymore. You had to have a cock inside you, it was urgent. Jimin was such a tease, and he enjoyed working you up into a frenzy.

Yoongi smirked, winking at Jimin and slamming his hips into yours, burying himself into you completely.

The car started slowing down, and Jin’s panicked voice rang behind Yoongi’s heaving form.

“We’re here, there’s so many cameras! Stop it, you two!”

Sure enough, there were hundreds of cameras outside, flashes going off every few seconds, waiting for the biggest boyband in the world to step out onto the red carpet.

Yoongi pounded into you harder, sweat running down his temples. He was growling with each thrust, the sound rumbling from deep inside his chest and sending a delicious thrill up your spine.

The car rolled to a stop, directly in front of the sea of people. Hushed murmurs were going around as everyone strained to peer through the tinted windows.

“What’s up? Why aren’t they stepping out?”

“Is something the matter?”

“Are you sure they are inside?”

A few reckless journalists tried to inch closer and glance through the windows. But the blinding camera lights reflected off the glass, completely blocking out the interior of the limousine.

Inside, Jimin hastened to pat down Yoongi’s streaming face, his nerves strung out completely. Yoongi buckled over and collapsed on Namjoon’s shoulder, blissed out at his climax. Jin grabbed him by the waist, pushing him back into his seat.

There was no time to be lost, and you got to work immediately, sucking Yoongi clean and zipping him up. You were just done tucking his shirt back neatly when one of the agency’s managers politely knocked on the door.

Looking up, you grinned at Yoongi, patting his knee.

“All done. Off you go, guys.”

You stayed back, keeping yourself hidden while the boys got out of the car one by one, smiling and waving at the crowd. The camera flashes multiplied manifold, clicking incessantly as the lenses gobbled up your boyfriends.

─── ·❆· ───

“I miss you,” you whined, pouting at your phone screen. Hoseok’s gorgeous face pouted too, as he ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

“I miss you too, Y/N. Everyone does.”

A chorus of groans behind Hoseok declared their assent. Taehyung’s head popped into the screen, and he settled his chin over Hoseok’s shoulder.

“It’s so frustrating without you, Y/N.”

You sighed and shook your head sadly.

“I know, it’s the same here.”

“Hold up, Yoongs wants to talk,” Hoseok said, moving his phone and pushing it into Yoongi’s hand.

“Babe...” he drawled, only half-awake from his power nap. “Get on a flight and come over.”

You twisted the cord on the hoodie you were wearing.

“How? You guys are all so busy. You’re touring so many places. Besides, your schedule is jam-packed.”

Namjoon’s voice piped up from the background.

“I got an idea.”

─── ·❆· ───

“Are you sure this will work?” you asked, shimmying into the black uniform Namjoon had brought you.

“Of course. You can travel with us throughout the tour and no one will know.”

Taehyung whistled on seeing your outfit.

“You know hyung, I’m beginning to see why they call you the brain of our band.”

Namjoon chuckled, his dimples popping out.

“Yeah,” Jimin said, holding you by the shoulders and turning you over to let the others see. “This is brilliant.”

The white letters were stamped boldly on the back of your outfit.

‘BBS CREW’

Jin came closer, pinning an identity badge on the belt loop of your jeans.

“There. You’re officially a crew member now.”

There was a knock on the door, and you ran to hide behind the clothes rack.

“We’re all set,” a crew member said, gesturing that it was time to go on stage. “In five.”

She left the door half open, and you peeped out from behind the rack.

“Time to go?” you asked.

“Yep,” Jin said, gripping your hand. “Come with us.”

There were so many people wearing the same outfit as yours, milling around the backstage rooms. It was very easy to blend in.

You walked with the guys to the very entrance they would go through, heart fluttering to hear the thunderous welcome they received from the audience as they stepped on stage.

It was a terrific experience to stay so close to the stage and see them perform. It was even more astounding to watch the audience get enthralled in the magic your boyfriends created. You stood at the wings, your heart swelling with pride.

After a while, it was finally time for a break, and the guys made their way off stage. They were soaked in sweat, and were panting hard.

“Sprained my ankle,” Hoseok whispered, limping gingerly while Jimin supported him.

“Fan, please,” Yoongi groaned, and a crew member hurried to get him a mini fan.

People were running everywhere, stylists were dabbing touch ups to the makeup and assistants were helping the guys change into the outfits for the next routine.

You hurried to Hoseok’s side, kneeling beside him and taking his hand. A medic was tending to his sprain, and you squeezed his hand tenderly.

“You okay?” you whispered, and he managed a weak nod.

“Better rest this foot,” the medic murmured, to which Hoseok shook his head.

“No. Rest after the concert. Gotta dance.” He was clenching his teeth tightly.

A heavy hand gripped your shoulder, and you looked up. Namjoon was standing with a mini fan, sweat streaming down his face.

“He won’t listen to the medic,” you said in a low voice.

“I know,” he sighed, gently pulling you up to your feet. “Don’t worry too much. It’s like this all the time.”

You nodded, looking around. Everyone was holding mini fans and wiping their sweat off with towels. Yoongi was sprawled out on the floor, and a crew member was fanning him with a big cloth.

“This is hard,” you said, turning back to face Namjoon.

“Yes. But they’re all strong. They’ll handle it.”

You nodded again. This was something they were used to. It would take you some time to get used to it, though.

“Here,” Namjoon said, clasping your hand and walking towards the wings again. The audience were still energetic, doing the fan chant over and over until the guys would get on stage again. Their light sticks were glowing bright, lighting up the whole arena and making it feel as if the stars had rained down to watch the concert.

“See that?” Namjoon whispered, his voice taking on a tone of astonishment. “That’s surreal. So much love, so much energy. They’ve all camped out in the cold for two days. Forget us, imagine how much they’d have gone through to get here.”

You hummed in agreement, still lost in the beauty of the light sticks.

“That’s who we perform for,” Namjoon said, his voice warm and sincere.

You smiled and looked back at his shining face. His eyes were reflecting the radiance of thousands of light sticks.

“Stand by in three...” someone’s voice shouted, and all the guys shot up to their feet with exhausted groans.

They assembled in line again, ready to get on stage for the next performance. One by one, they hurried through the entrance, until everyone except Namjoon had gone back to the waiting area.

“Namjoon-ssi!” someone screamed in alarm, and you shook his arm to get him going.

“Go on, Joon,” you hissed, trying to push him into action.

He looked at you in a daze, and dipped his head urgently.

“Namjoon-ssi!” Another voice called out in emergency, when he cupped your chin and captured your lips in a frantic kiss.

You saw people running towards Namjoon out of the corner of your eyes. There were confused shouts, as the red digital timer counted down the seconds to cue the music.

In a quick flash, he broke the kiss and squeezed your hand, running over to join his mates on stage.

─── ·❆· ───

“Jinnie?”

The mischievous eyes twinkled at you when he replied with a coy “Hm?”

You were lying on his chest, content with listening to his heartbeat thudding away. When you raised your head to look at him, you placed your chin on his ribs, making him squirm and giggle.

“Y/N! It tickles!”

He was still laughing, trying to lift your pointy chin when your next words caught him off-guard.

“Jungkook was so sulky today.”

His laughter died down, the glee on his face replaced with an inscrutable emotion.

“Do you know why?” you pressed, not ready to leave it undiscussed. “He looked like-”  you batted your lashes, “-like he was pissed off at us.” You drew a long breath. “Mostly at me.”

Jin was quick to cup your cheek, tutting at the last comment.

“Of course not, Y/N. He was probably nervous about the concert.” He could clearly see that you weren’t convinced. “I��ll talk to him about it.”

You nodded, lost in thought. Did Jungkook not want to be part of the relationship? He hadn’t kissed you or said a kind word to you in days. He had flinched hard when you had touched him earlier in the day. You were about to open your mouth and voice out your thoughts when the bed dipped beside you, and Taehyung’s large sinewy hands landed on your waist.

“Jin hyung, I need to cuddle Y/N to sleep,” he said, his sleepy voice deeper than it normally was.

You swallowed your words, forgetting your thoughts at the deep voice booming into your back. Jin hummed his acknowledgment to Taehyung, gazing at the ceiling in peace, content with having you draped on his chest.

The boys rarely closed their doors, because it was so normal for one or the other to pop into your room at night. You were in love with all of them, yes, but you always slept with Jin. He had been your first boyfriend, and it was a given that you would go to bed with him every night.

The rest of them dropped by sometimes, as Taehyung had just done. Sometimes it even led to threesomes and steamy hot sex. But tonight, you were content with the Jin-Taehyung sandwich. Because the boys were frequently in and out of the room, you left the door open at night.

A digital watch somewhere in one of the rooms lit up its iridescent digits, sounding a slight chime when it turned 2 am.

You were having a dream, and the sound interrupted it, waking you up. You had no desire to open your eyes. You lay with your eyes closed, listening to Jin’s even breathing in tranquil happiness.

Taehyung moaned slightly in his sleep, burying his head into your neck and crushing you tighter against his chest. His thick hair brushed against your skin, and you grudgingly opened your eyes.

It was so dark, and you made out Jin’s hand stretched towards you, in case you wanted to nestle into the crook of his armpit. You smiled to yourself, loving how sweet he was. You wanted to crawl into his arms, so you decided to move slightly.

You raised your head, and your sleep-heavy eyes caught sight of a figure sidling along the open door, the sudden apparition eliciting a strangled scream from deep within your bosom. You rubbed your eyes and squinted again, but the apparition had vanished.

“What? What is it?”

Jin was up in an instant, his groggy voice somehow soothing your anxiety. Taehyung woke up too, and between them, they asked you what had happened, and you pointed at the door with shaking fingers.

“I- think I saw someone. Something.”

Jin squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.

“Y/N, baby, what exactly did you see?”

Your nerves were shaken so bad you couldn’t raise your voice above a whisper.

“Someone- was watching… me. I only saw the eyes. And then- it- disappeared.”

Jin looked at Taehyung, the brief glance laden with meaning.

“Okay, I’ll go investigate. Taehyung, stay with Y/N.”

Jin got out of bed, tiptoeing out of the room in search of the mysterious apparition. Taehyung hooked his chin on your shoulder, hugging you protectively and blowing air softly on your neck. Jin was gone for a good ten minutes before he returned to the room.

“I did a thorough sweep, Y/N. There’s no one at the house except the guys.”

He climbed into the bed, pulling the sheets over his legs. He took your hand in his, squeezing it gently.

“Don’t worry baby, even if he or she comes back, you’ve got two strong boyfriends in this room to protect you.”

God, Jin was so good at making you feel perfectly safe. You smiled and squeezed his hand back. Taehyung hummed behind you, agreeing to Jin’s words.

In a few minutes, Jin was peacefully breathing again, his hand resting on your waist. It was heavy, but the weight gave you reassurance.

─── ·❆· ───

“Yoongi!”

Hoseok’s morning routine included waking up his friend and kicking him out of bed. The guy was simply impossible to rouse, and the rest of the guys steered clear of his morning temper. He reserved a string of eloquent curses to fire at the unfortunate person who woke him up, intentional or otherwise.

Hoseok and you were the only ones immune to his foul mouth. Hoseok simply cursed back at him, and you had a completely different method of waking Yoongi up. A method that involved locking your lips around his morning wood and humming around it.

Today, however, you weren’t around to save Hoseok’s ears.

“Where the hell is Y/N?” Hoseok muttered to himself, ripping the sheets off the man curled like a kitten underneath. Yoongi had a large queen-sized bed, but he insisted on rolling into a ball when he slept. It was endearing to find him curled up like that, but the next moment he would hiss and scowl, cross at being woken up. That man certainly ran hot and cold so quickly.

Yoongi opened his mouth, ready to go off, when Hoseok pushed a pillow into his face.

“Save your breath. I’m gonna go find Y/N. Get your ass off the bed, hyung.”

The rest of the guys were up and about, chattering noisily and clattering dishes in the kitchen.

“WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU USE THAT PAN FOR THE EGGS?”

“Taehyung I swear to God if you break that plate…”

“Namjoon just flip the pancake, man you’re burning it!”

Hoseok waded through the noise, walking down the kitchen and crossing a suite of rooms. His sharp ears picked up your whimpers, and he followed the sounds, briskly trotting towards the source.

The door was half-open, and he stepped in, not bothering to knock.

“Goodness, what a racket!”

Jimin had you pinned up against the wall, your legs wrapped tight around his lithe body. One of his hands was around your neck, and the other was working on rubbing your clit. He had been ramming into you hard, and he jerked to a stop at Hoseok’s voice.

“Hobi hyung!”

Hoseok licked his lips when he saw your pretty little cunt filled to the brim with Jimin’s thick cock. He felt himself stirring in his pants.

“Such a noisy one,” he said, walking towards you. “I could hear her whining all the way in the kitchen.”

Jimin grinned, his eye-smile lighting up his face.

“I’m doing my job right then.”

Hoseok snickered, tracing his finger along the bridge of your nose, bringing it over your lips. You opened up obediently, sucking on his finger with closed eyes, still impaled on Jimin’s cock.

“You need something to stuff your mouth with, darling,” Hoseok murmured, and you nodded in agreement. He wasn’t satisfied though, and he glanced at Jimin, and the latter slipped out of you without a word.

“No,” you moaned around the finger, whimpering at the loss.

“Use your words like a good girl, baby,” Hoseok said, popping his finger out of your mouth. “Only then you’ll get Jimin’s dick back.”

You loved it when Hoseok was all riled up and ready to snap. He was delicious when danger oozed out of his persona, threatening you into submission.

“My mouth needs to be stuffed, Hobi,” you said, drawing the syllables out sexily.

“With what, baby?”

Jimin’s sly smile returned, and he bit his lip while he waited for your pretty lips to form the words.

“With your cock.”

“That’s right.”

Hoseok nodded at you, and Jimin set you down gently, untangling your legs from his hips. You went down on all fours, and Hoseok turned so his back was supported against the wall. He sunk his fingers into your hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling your face towards his crotch.

You had learned the art of unzipping pants with your teeth, so it was easy to unzip him. Behind you, Jimin was spitting on his palm and stroking his length.

“Please,” you whispered, lust blinding you. “Please fuck me.”

The men grinned at each other, and with one savage push, Jimin sheathed himself inside you again. Hoseok had been slapping his dick against your cheek, and when you opened your mouth to moan at Jimin’s entrance, Hoseok took the chance to push himself inside your warm silky mouth.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hand grabbing at your roots hard. “Beat that pussy hard, Jiminah.”

Between the two of them, they found a steady rhythm that let you get fucked on both sides without any lag. Jimin was going at it hard, slamming himself into you like it was his last day on earth. It was sinfully delicious to hear his angelic voice groaning loud with each thrust.

You moaned around Hoseok’s cock, tapping his thighs softly. He stopped abruptly, looking down at you in concern. He slipped out of your mouth gently.

“Yes, baby?”

You ran your finger on your lips, smearing his pre-cum all over your mouth. You knew it always drove him crazy when you did that.

“Hobi, sit on my face.”

A smirk spread on Hoseok’s face, and he chuckled lightly.

Jimin pulled your hips towards him, helping you lie down on the floor. Hoseok gently placed your head down, making sure you weren’t uncomfortable in the slightest. And then, he knelt so his thighs were on either side of your face, and dipped his pelvis down a bit, ghosting his weight on you.

You reached out and pulled his thighs closer, whining “Just sit on me please.”

He giggled, his whole body vibrating in mirth.

“Want me to teabag you, little slut?” He lowered himself down a little more. “Huh? Is that what you want?”

“Mmnnhhhh” you buried your face into his balls, and Jimin lay down flat on the floor, his face burrowed into your clit. His lovely lips clasped tight around your bud, his tongue working hard and fast to reduce you to a pool of wobbly jelly.

Above you, Hoseok grabbed his dick and pumped himself hard, dipping his balls in and out of your mouth all the while. He growled when you sucked on them and used your teeth to slightly graze them.

His hands roamed over your chest, gathering your breasts and massaging them. He saw Jimin eating you out at a feral pace, and a fresh pang of want made his dick throb. He aligned his cock between your supple mounds, starting to fuck your breasts while you suckled on his balls.

“Fuck, Y/N. You are a damn fucking goddess,” he breathed, picking up his pace and working his cock faster, amazed at how your breasts bounced so beautifully around him. His thighs started quivering, and you could feel his sweat beginning to moisten his skin. He was so close.

He ran his hands over your breasts and traveled down, leaning forward a bit, doubling up so that his face was in level with your navel. His hot breath sent all your nerves into overdrive, and he started kissing a line down to your belly button.

You moaned out loud, but the sound came out strangled because you had a mouthful of balls. Jimin felt you tremble and shake under him, and he smiled into your pussy. He worked his finger into you, curling and twirling proving even his fingers could dance.

You felt Hoseok’s tongue lick a hot circle around your belly button, and that was it for you. There were stars in your vision, and you trembled so hard that Jimin gripped your calves tight, helping you ride it out. Hoseok straightened his back, seeing you shake all over. He put his arm around your neck and held on to your shoulder, wiping your sweaty forehead and kissing your hand softly, cooing to you.

Jimin shot up the next moment, wiping his mouth and laughing that sweet tinkling laugh.

“Hyung, she squirted all over me!”

Hoseok had just finished shooting his cum all over your breasts, and you strained to look at Jimin.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Jimin.” Hoseok tilted his hips and you propped yourself up to look at the mess you had created. All of Jimin’s shirt, right from the collar to his torso, was soaked.

“I’m sorry... let me clean it,” you reached your hand out, and he simply swatted it away.

“What are you sorry for?  Lie back down and let me eat your pussy again, baby.”

─── ·❆· ───

Eighteen months ago

“Jinnie,” you called, turning to face your boyfriend who was stuffing his face with noodles. You were fidgeting before the mirror, unsure what your boyfriend’s reaction would be.

“Huh, babe?” he asked, still busy scraping the last bits of noodles from the takeout box.

You quickly stole one last look at yourself in the mirror and then marched to the side of the bed. His suit was strewn over the white sheets, and he was in his boxers, slurping noodles like his life depended on it.

“Tell me if this dress is okay,” you said, standing directly before him.

“Why, that’s a lovely dress, you’re so pretty!” He paused to fan his mouth, the spice finally catching up to him. “Hot. Damn hot. You. And the noodles.” He fluttered his hands wildly, coughing dramatically.

You tossed a water bottle to him, giggling at his red face.

“So,” he said, sipping the water thankfully, “why do you even ask that? I bought that dress for you.” He scrunched his nose up, looking at you in mischief. “Are you doubting my taste?”

He got a well-aimed pillow thrown against his face, and he laughed.

“Why else would you ask?” he raised his voice like a bratty child.

“This.”

You pointed to your boobs, biting your lip. He pushed the cushion under his head, ogling at your body lazily.

“I don’t see anything wrong with your rack.” He smiled proudly to himself. “You look awesome.”

“But,” you sighed, nervously pulling at the fabric. “The neckline- it’s too deep.”

“So? It’s even more sexy.”

He didn’t seem to get it.

“Seokjin,” you said, putting your hands on your hips. “What about the rest of the guys? What would they think? Isn’t this more... like… suitable for when we go on a date, alone, just the two of us?”

“Ah.” He finally understood what you were going on about. The dress had a very low neckline, and you found it weird that he had suggested you wear it to the party with his friends.

He cleared his throat as if he were going to say something. He opened and closed his mouth several times, not a sound escaping his lips.

“Y/N, listen. I need to tell you something. But can it wait until after the party?”

He saw the curiosity burning on your face, but you managed to nod.

“Also, don’t forget to wear the fishnet stockings I got you.”

You tilted your head and gazed at him, pursing your lips.

“Are you trying to show off before the guys, Kim Seokjin?” you asked, accusingly.

He shook his head, the smile never leaving his lips. “Just wear it to the party and I’ll tell you all about it later.”

———❖———

You were slipping your heels off, Seokjin was lending you his arm to balance yourself. He had looked stunning in his suit, and you had loved the way his eyes streamed while he joked and kept everyone in splits.

It was a very hush-hush party open only for the label’s artists and their dates. Seokjin didn’t have much privacy in his life, and he tried his best to take advantage of the precious few private parties that came his way.

“Careful,” he said, catching hold of your arm just before you slipped. “I don’t know what you get by torturing your feet like that.”

You simply giggled, pouting your lips at him. “You’re too tall, Jinnie. I need to be able to kiss you whenever I want.”

And there, you had done it. You had made the master of jokes blush so hard his ears turned red. He cleared his throat, his breadcheeks straining hard to contain his smile.

“Let’s go and have a drink.”

He tried to walk ahead, but you caught his sleeve and tugged.

“Jin, tell me what the big secret is,” you mewled, loving how good his toned arms felt. “You know, you said there’s something you had to say.”

He patted your knuckles, nodding sweetly.

“I know. That’s what I need the drink for.”

You huffed, watching him saunter over to the cabinet to pull a bottle of wine. He was so damn hot when he was in suits, but he was hotter when he was pulling his bow loose and mussing his hair. You followed him to the bedroom, tagging along like a lovesick puppy.

The rest of the chaotic group were drinking and fooling around in the living room, rocking the walls with their boisterous laughs. It wasn’t unusual for Jin to bring the boys over; they were always hanging around one time or the other.

“Ahem.”

You crossed your arms, and the gesture didn’t help Jin. Your boobs were squished together and the deep neckline made it impossible for him to focus. He licked his lips and took another sip of the wine to steady his nerves.

But Jin had such an easy relationship with you. He knew that he could talk to you about anything. He trusted you so much that he just knew what he was about to say wouldn’t break your relationship. He just needed to find a way to break the ice.

“Come here,” he murmured, patting his thigh. “Come sit on my lap.”

You glided towards him, settling down on his lap happily. Your cleavage was even closer now, and Jin just lost control.

He placed his glass down, not caring about staining the rug. With a deep moan, he pushed his face into your chest, burrowing into his favorite place in the world. He rubbed his face against the soft flesh, purring in delight.

You let him be, carding your fingers through his thick glossy hair. He would talk when he was ready. Meanwhile, you would enjoy your boyfriend’s attention contently. His teeth were grazing your skin now, sucking soft love bites to show his appreciation.

“Jin,” you breathed, and he lost it completely.

“Fuck, yeah. Say my name like that.”

He lifted his head to look into your eyes, and you saw the rich want coloring his pupils.

“Lemme inspect my girl,” he whispered, pushing his hand between your legs and feeling around for the familiar wetness of your undies.

“You’re soaking already, Y/N,” he groaned, and you saw his nostrils flaring. He gulped at the feeling, and his Adam's apple bobbed enticingly.  It was the most beautiful sight ever.

His finger pushed the fabric aside, easily scooping up your essence. He looked straight into your eyes as he brought his digit to his lips and licked it, curling his pink tongue and making your insides clench.

Jin was blessed with long bony fingers, and they were a bit crooked too. A fact he took huge pride in. Because it allowed him to do things to your pussy that no one else could. He slid one finger inside you, drinking in how bothered you looked.

With a soft groan, you parted your legs wider to give him better access. His finger pumped in and out of you, drawing strangled moans from your shaking body. He slowly increased his pace, never taking his eyes off you.

“J-Jin..”

He slid another finger in, and this time his crooked bony fingers found your happy place and pushed against it, reducing you to a whimpering mess on his lap. He never stopped, his chest puffing with pride when he saw how you came undone on his fingers.

“Wanna cum?” he asked, and you nodded vigorously. His grin made an appearance again.

“You gotta ride me first, baby.”

Smiling impishly, you tore the jacket off his shoulders in one swoop. His shoulders were so wide, and you loved grabbing onto them when you rode him. The white dress shirt underneath had gold-plated buttons, winking at you. Seokjin certainly deserved to be dressed from head to toe in gold.

You could hear the boys knocking things around in the living room, and the little wildcat in you reared its head. You liked the thrill of riding Jin with his friends just outside the room. Jin might never guess it, but you wouldn’t even mind if one of the guys actually walked in on you bouncing on your boyfriend’s cock.

Snaking your hand down to his crotch, you unzipped his pants and fished his dick out. He was rock-hard. Jin always had loads of glossy pre-cum, and you slowly worked his juices all over his shaft, stroking him. He grabbed your wrist, his plush lip caught between his teeth.

“Sit on me.”

You gladly obliged, shifting your hips and hovering over him. He pushed your undies aside with his thumb, and you slid down his length, sheathing him completely. Once he was fully in, you rotated your hips, drawing sharp curses from his pillowy lips.

“Ah shit, Y/N. That’s it. Faster, go faster.”

You picked up your pace, holding on to his broad muscular shoulders and bouncing as fast as you could. Jin usually wanted to see your breasts when you rode him. That day, however, he made no effort to undress you. The red fabric was bunched up unceremoniously around your waist, but your breasts were still clothed.

“Oh gosh, Y/N, allow me….”

He grabbed your hips, pushing himself off the bed and thrusting up into you. You let him take over, squeezing his shoulders and letting him rail you as he pleased.

Jin loved the whimpers escaping your dirty little mouth, the sounds egging him on to ruin you completely. He pounded into you, the sound of skin slapping on skin filling your ears like a crescendo.

“Like my cock stretching you, huh?” He panted between his thrusts. His stamina was out of the world.

“You’re my little cockpuppet, aren’t you?”

His words always had the effect of reducing you to putty. That man had such a filthy mouth, one he was only too happy to unleash on you.

“Oh goddamn, Jin!”

You knew he was close; the taut flesh of his abdomen was quivering with the stirrings of a powerful orgasm. Your fingers clawed into his broad shoulders just in time.

Jin sounded nothing like his ordinary self when he cummed. He had a special sex voice that only you had the privilege of hearing. He moaned out loud, growling like an animal in pain as he shot all his seed inside your walls.

You could feel his cock pulsate inside you, twitching as your pussy milked him for all his worth. His breaths came out in hot pants, beads of sweat rolling down his temples.

“Feeling good, baby?”

He looked into your eyes, and you smiled happily at him.

“Never been better.”

The soft breadcheeks stretched into a smile. Damn, he was so beautiful when he smiled like that.

You hooked your finger under his chin.

His finger was tracing circles over the fishnet stockings, and you raised an eyebrow naughtily.

“Since when are you into fishnets?”

He chuckled slowly, chewing his lip.

“It wasn’t exactly for me... Remember when I said I had something to tell you?”

You huffed in impatience, gripping the hair at the base of his neck and peering at him curiously.

“Come on! Tell me. Now.”

He looked down at where both your hips joined. He slid his softening dick out of you, and you silently helped him tuck himself back into his pants.

The sound of the zipper closing shattered the silence. He bit his lip and peered into your eyes.

“Y/N,” there was a slight shake in his voice. “Have you ever…” His pink tongue darted out to lick his lips. “What do you think of…”

You blew out your cheeks. It was unusual for your ever-confident boyfriend to sound so doubtful.

“Just say it, Jinnie.”

He took a deep breath, and ran his fingers up your thigh, gathering his thoughts.

“Y/N baby, you sometimes moan in your sleep.”

You smiled at him playfully.

“What do I moan?”

He knotted his eyebrows and sighed softly.

“You moan the names of the other members.”

The smile froze on your face, your heart steadily dropping in your chest. It felt like someone had shoved a giant block of ice down your throat.

“I- I didn’t mean to… It wasn’t…”

Jin saw the panic on your face and shook his head hastily.

“Hear me out, Y/N.” He reached his palm to cup your cheek. “Wait, listen.”

He hadn’t meant to make you feel guilty in the slightest. He shushed you and blurted the words out:

“I meant to ask what you thought about sharing.”

You wrinkled your forehead in confusion.

“Sharing what?”

He wiggled his nose, carefully looking at your reaction as he said the words:

“Sharing you with the other members. Like- like a poly relationship.”

Your jaw dropped, and you regarded your boyfriend with a wary look. Was he really suggesting that? Or was it a snide question? You knew the Jin you loved would never be mean to you. He was too straightforward and blunt to beat around the bush.

“Are you… really asking me?”

His finger traveled up your face and traced your cheekbone.

“Of course I am. You can tell me no if I crossed a line.” He paused for a second.” I genuinely want to know if you’d like it.”

You bunched his shirt up in your fists, scared of what would happen next. Would he hate you if you said “Yes”? Would he feel inadequate? Would he feel like he’d been cheated on?

It was a while before you found your voice.

“Am I going to lose you?”

His face became serious.

“Why would you? Of course not! Baby, I’m the one suggesting it.”

He was suggesting it? The thought made your head spin. It was all too raw to process.

“Are you drunk, Jinnie?”

You knew he wasn’t. Your boyfriend had an extremely good tolerance for alcohol. He shook his head without taking his eyes off your face.

“Don’t worry, I am not. And no, I am not going to back out in the morning.”

He really was serious. You chewed on your lips, gazing at his open face.

“And- the guys, how will you talk to them about… this?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, his rare dimple peeking at you.

“I may have already talked about it with them.”

You drew back in horror.

“What?!”

He shifted his hips into a more comfortable position. He had talked about it with his guys, and they had been open to trying it if you really wanted it. Jin knew how your mind worked, and he was sure you’d want to try at least once.

“Sh, Y/N. It’s all up to you now. No one will judge you for it. I know the guys. They all adore you. Just tell me if you want to try this.”

Your hands flew to your hot face in a poor attempt at hiding yourself. Jin’s big palms caught your wrists.

“Don’t hate me,” you whined, your voice so low it was close to breaking.

———❖———

Jin held your hand tight as he guided you to the living room. The six other guys were boisterously arguing about something. A sudden hush blanketed the noise as soon as Jin ground to a halt in the middle of the room.

You refused to look up, staring at the rug like your whole body would ignite and go up in flames if you did.

“Let’s go to the guest bedroom,” Jin said, addressing the men in the room. He jerked his head at them and turned on his heel, pulling you with him.

The bedroom was the biggest in your apartment, and it housed two queen-sized beds. You had originally intended to rent it out to your friends before your boyfriend came along.

Jin drew the blinds and returned to your side, tapping his foot on the floor gently. One by one, the guys made their way into the room, forming a semicircle around Jin and you.

They were all still in the suits they had worn to the party. Granted, a few ties and bows were loosened and some suits were specked with pizza crust. But they looked just as fucking handsome as ever, disheveled or otherwise.

Everyone looked slightly nervous, and they waited for someone to break the ice. Namjoon, used to his role of the leader, took the lead naturally.

He cleared his throat, glancing at you.

“Y/N, I… um… understand this is all new, but…”

Jin stared at Namjoon, silently urging him to use his eloquent mouth to come up with something more confident.

Namjoon took a step forward, his palms open to in an attempt to instill trust.

“We all love you so much, and I assure you that there’s nothing to be worried about.”

The rest of the group nodded in silence, and you looked at Namjoon through lowered lashes. This was so surreal. Was it all a dream?

Jin squeezed your hand, and you squeezed it back. Gosh, this was so real.

You saw the polished tips of Namjoon’s shoes advance towards you.

“If you say no, we’ll leave this room and forget that this ever happened. We’d understand.”

God, no. You couldn’t say no. It would be a lie if you said you didn’t want them. But how was it all true? How did all seven of them like you back? Was it right to even think about it?

“No,” you saw the tips of Namjoon’s shoes stop abruptly on the floor.

“No," you repeated, "I can’t say no.”

The gleaming shoes hesitantly made their way towards you again.

He stood directly in front of you, and Jin let go of your hand. A sudden feeling of panic rose up your chest, but it disappeared when Jin’s hand reached to grip your shoulder lightly.

Namjoon reached his hand out, saying,

“Is it okay if I do…” He rested his palm against your hip, “…this?”

You gulped and nodded, staring into his chocolate eyes.

He gently squeezed your hip, watching you in rapt attention.

“And this?”

“Yes,” you breathed out shakily.

“You’re wearing fishnets,” Namjoon noted with barely contained eagerness, and you saw Jin cheekily nod his head at his band mate.

“Just how you like it, huh?” Jin teased, winking at Namjoon, who blushed in return.

Namjoon’s hand slipped around your waist, and he murmured in a soft voice, “Is it alright if we move closer to the bed?”

You nodded your head in a daze.

“Uh-huh.”

The rest of the guys parted, breaking the semicircle and making way for you. It really was happening. The thudding in your ears grew louder and louder.

Namjoon sat down on the edge of the bed and patted his lap.

“Come sit, honey.”

You turned and looked at your boyfriend, seeking reassurance before you let yourself go completely. Jin nodded his head and winked, a little smile playing on the edges of his lips. Drawing a shaky breath, you climbed into Namjoon’s lap, feeling incredibly self-conscious.

“We can stop anytime you want,” Namjoon said, gazing earnestly at your face. “Do you want to continue?”

You bit your lip and looked at the men clustered around you. This was it.

“Yes, I want to.”

A barely audible sigh escaped Namjoon’s lips. Had he been holding his breath too? Was he nervous too? Nothing about his persona gave away his nervousness. His fingers were steady, so was his voice. He had an aura of confidence in every move.

“Are you sure, baby? You are okay with this?”

“Yes... oh yes, please.”

The last word was drawn into a needy whine, and Taehyung chuckled from across the room. A few of them were sitting on the other bed, watching the events unfold. Jin was standing at the foot of the bed, his hawk eyes never leaving you. Yoongi was leaning against the wall, looking unbothered. But only he knew the way his stomach was doing backflips, the thought of having you leaving him shaking in his shoes.

Namjoon gently cupped your jaw, pulling you in and brushing his lips softly against yours. His other hand roamed over to your shoulder blade, a finger hooking under the spaghetti strap. Taking his sweet time, the man peeled the strap off your shoulder, his hand moving to free the other strap as well.

“Ready?”

His whisper was full of lust, and you nodded in urgency. With one fluid tug, he pulled the top of your dress down towards your waist, leaving your lace push-up bra for all the men to see. There was a sharp gasp from somewhere in the room, but you were far too gone to identify who it belonged to.

Your eyes flitted over to Jin’s, and you saw him looking straight at your chest, enthralled. He didn’t look the least bit concerned. Rather, he seemed to be enjoying it, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he gulped at the sight.

There was a deafening silence in the room, it was almost unbearable. Namjoon’s hand roamed over to your thigh-high stockings, and his long index finger slipped under the elastic band, dragging sinful lines along your skin.

He sighed darkly, admiring the way your legs looked. He had only mentioned to Jin about his kink for fishnets in passing. He couldn’t believe Jin had remembered.

His other hand was on your back, his fingers hooked under the clasps of your bra.

Deftly, with just two fingers, he undid the clasps, ridding your skin of the offending fabric.

The cold air in the room coupled with the sudden nakedness gave you such a rush, so much that all the fine hair on your skin stood up in goosebumps. There were a few groans around you, and it became so hard to sit still on Namjoon’s lap.

“Make sure she’s feeling comfortable,” Yoongi murmured from his position against the wall, his palm resting ever so slightly on his bulge.

“Here,” Yoongi said, moving towards you and stooping to look into your eyes. “Are you feeling okay, Y/N?”

You nodded, too enthralled in his brilliant black eyes to answer.

He dropped his voice lower, sliding a finger along your jawline.

“Tell us what you want.”

Your nipples were so hard, painfully neglected by not one but seven men in the room.

“I-”  You looked at Namjoon, and gripped your hip gently, running his tongue over his plump lips. “-just, can you all take your shirts off?” Your naked torso was in stark contrast to their suits, and you were hyper aware of it.

Jungkook’s little giggle reached your ears, and you sighed in relief as one by one, all the suits and dress shirts came off, revealing sculpted chests and hard, taut abs.

God, Jin was fucking ethereal when he was naked, you always had to remember to breathe when he undressed. But now, right in front of you, seven sons of Aphrodite were offering you their shirtless bodies, letting you feast your eyes on godly perfection.

Namjoon’s bare chest heaved perfectly in harmony with yours, the warmth of his body seeping into your pores.

“Please…” you whined, needy for attention. “Please touch me.”

Yoongi groaned, rubbing his face against your neck, and starting to press kisses down your shoulder blades.

Namjoon nodded at the rest of them, and slowly everyone moved towards you, crowding around you like children around an ice cream truck. One strong arm pulled you, so you were sitting sideways on Namjoon’s lap, providing better access to the others.

Jimin dove straight into your chest, attaching his mouth to your breast and suckling eagerly. He gobbled up as much of the flesh as he could into his little mouth, earning shaky moans that spilled out of your lips.

Namjoon’s finger pushed your underwear away, dipping into your core and curling a bit. He popped out his dimples, smirking hard at Jin.

“Guys, hyung has already marked his territory.”

Jin’s ears went red, and he stammered out while waving his hands,

“It’s nothing like that! It’s just impossible to resist her.” He paused, looking down and grinning at you before adding, “You’re all gonna discover that soon enough.”

You giggled, catching sight of his red face and puckered lips. Jimin was still attached to your chest, working his devilish tongue on your breast.

“Show some love to the other tit too,” Jin said, and everyone chuckled, the tension in the air evaporating completely.

Soon enough, Jungkook’s veiny hand was kneading your other breast, and everyone closed in on you, their eager hands running all over your body, sending you tumbling into bliss.

─── ·❆· ───

Present day

“Yoongs?”

He was hunched over some sheets of music, his nerdy glasses making him look wise and serene.

“Huh?”

He removed his glasses, running his hand through his shock of black hair, mussing it up. A genuine smile lit his face up when he looked at you.

“Yeah, baby?”

You knew he was busy, producing music for one of his collabs. But he had asked you to hang out with him in the studio. And that was when Jungkook had entered, his face hostile and sullen, passing by to drop some of Yoongi’s lyric sheets. He had practically glowered at you, slamming the door behind him unnecessarily loud.

“Um, do you think Kook is mad at me?”

He looked surprised.

“No, why would he be?”

You hadn’t the faintest idea why. But something was up. You knew that. You had tried multiple times to talk to Jungkook, but he had just shrugged and slipped out of your efforts to light up a conversation.

“I think he doesn’t like this.” It had been a thought that had started out as doubt, but Jungkook’s behavior made the doubt grow stronger and stronger until you were subconsciously convinced that it was the reason.

Yoongi leaned back in his chair, raising his eyebrows.

“He doesn’t like what?”

“This.” You flung your arms out, tracing the air, frustrated. “Maybe he doesn’t really want to be in this relationship? I tried talking to him many times, but he just won’t speak to me.” You pursed your lips. “It has been weeks since he even smiled at me.”

“Y/N,” Yoongi drawled, reaching to pull you closer. “You know he loves you. We all do. He’s probably overworked and exhausted. Try talking to him after some time, you know?”

You nodded absently, thinking of how Jungkook had sprung up like a startled cat and stomped out of the room while you were watching a movie with all the guys. Just because you had placed a hand on his thigh.

There was something off about Jungkook. But he shut up like a clam, choosing to slip out of the way whenever you tried to talk to him.

“Y/N?”

You snapped back to focus on Yoongi. He was partially right. They were all working their asses off for the new album. You would talk to Jungkook later.

“Okay, babe,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. Your hand reached for the phone.

11:21 pm.

Yoongi had made lunch reservations for both of you. You still had plenty of time.

“You get going on that sexy producer thing you do,” you said, cozying down on his sofa. “We still have some time on our hands.”

So back he went, his serious face poring over the sheets of music sprawled on his table. Yoongi probably didn’t realize, but he looked like a grumpy kitten when he was concentrating hard on something.

You smiled at his bent head, swiping on your phone to check for emails from work. There were none. Good. Maybe you could scroll through Pinterest for new design ideas. You worked for an ad agency as a graphic designer. You had to always be on the lookout for new stuff.

The endless stream of pictures was flooding your feed, and your finger was trying to catch up. Ding. The notification chime wasn’t usually enough to distract you. But this time, it held the title you just couldn’t resist. It was a YouTube notification from your favorite graphic artist.

You were halfway through the video when the suggested section caught your eye. An involuntary chuckle shook your chest when you read the title.

“Boy band BBS talk about DATING and SECRET GIRLFRIENDS?!!”

It was classic clickbait. Something everyone seemed to be doing for views. You knew it was just a clip from the Red Carpet of the MTV Music Awards. You still remembered the hickey you had given Hoseok that had forced him to wear a turtleneck under his suit. Delicious times.

You had watched that video already, but something just pulled you towards the video. You would never tire of re-watching your seven gorgeous boyfriends slaying the red carpet.

Sure, you were right. It was just a clip that everyone who had followed the awards had already seen. The familiar questions about collabs, celebrity crushes, favorite food, every question your boyfriends were already tired of but answered anyway, made up the first 4 minutes. Click bait much?

“Haha we have all the love in the world, we have our fans,” Namjoon was saying, his sweet little dimple flashing at the camera.

“But,” the redhead insisted, her dazzling smile widening. “You boys have any secret dating lives we aren’t privy to?”

The answer was already in the question. No one was supposed to be fucking privy to that information. You pursed your lips, waiting for Namjoon’s sassy reply to tumble out of his lips.

“We wanna focus on our careers, we don’t have time to date,” he said, a small lilt of mockery creeping into his voice.

Damn, you had teased him mercilessly that night, bratty about him saying ‘not having time.’ You remembered how he had begged to lay a finger on you, and a satisfying warmth spread over your belly.

The video was ending, and you grinned at Namjoon’s closeup fondly. But just before the replay button came on, you caught onto something odd.

You had been scrolling down, and a few comments had popped up in your line of vision. People were screaming about how dazzling their bias looked, or how proud they were of the boys. But there were a few ones written by hawk-eyed fans.

“not at how bored JK got of the question at 6:48 lmao he’s so pissed”

“damn, was it just me, or did JK actually ROLL his eyes sfakjfkjfk hahaha”

What?

You hit the replay button, dragging the seeker to the last few seconds of the video.

There, glowering with mad eyes, stood Jungkook. He was well behind Namjoon, a bit out of focus around the 6:45 mark. He had put on a charming smile throughout the video. Until the host popped the dating question, at least.

For anyone else, it would seem like Jungkook was bored with the question. But you knew his quirks. He had been casually gazing at the camera, letting Namjoon answer the host’s questions. The word “dating” left the host’s lips, and Hoseok lightly touched his turtleneck at the exact time when Jungkook’s expression flattened out to a cold hard stare. He rolled his eyes ever so subtly, his face turned sideways. He had been annoyed.

Annoyed at Hoseok that he was reminded of who he was dating. Annoyed that the question had reminded him of the hickey his turtleneck was covering. More like disgusted. Disgusted at what exactly? At the host for asking that question? Or- was it at what dating meant to the eight of you?

“Y/N, babes?”

Yoongi’s voice finally reached your ears, and you looked up in a daze.

“Huh?”

He scratched his head, his other arm supporting the jacket casually flung over his back.

“I said we can go. We’ll be late if we don’t hurry.”

Oh, the lunch. You had totally snapped out of focus.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” you said, jumping up and slipping into your shoes. Yoongi watched you closely, a bit concerned.

“Are you alright, Y/N? You look... odd.”

You debated if you should tell him what was bothering you. But you didn’t want to ruin the date with your speculations. You’ll talk about it to your boyfriends after you had enough time to sort your feelings.

“No, it’s probably nothing, Yoongs. I’ll tell you later. Let’s go, I’m famished.”

You would have to tackle Jungkook and his surly temper later.

─── ·❆· ───

“How’s the track shaping up, hyung?” Taehyung asked, pouring more wine into Yoongi’s glass. You were cozily settled between Yoongi’s thighs, the warmth of his chest on your back.

“Hm, I worked out most of the chords,” Yoongi returned, picking up his refill and taking a sip. “But I still have some more work to do, especially with the bridge.”

You hummed contentedly, listening to your boyfriends discuss music, sprawled on the floor around the coffee table. It was lovely, watching their serious faces talk about what they loved and lived for. The door opened, and Jungkook walked in, clutching his sports bag.

He mumbled an “I’m home,” directed at his friends, before turning to kick off his shoes.

“…and before I knew it, the time had flown like… phew!” Yoongi was saying, while you eyed Jungkook’s bag. He had been going to the boxing ring too often these days. What was up with him? His hair was damp, and his face was flushed.

“…and then I bundled Y/N up into the car and we rushed off,” Yoongi said, and there it was again. You had been watching Jungkook’s face, and at the mention of your name, the annoyance - no, the disgust flashed across his features. He scoffed to himself, unaware of your attention. It wrenched your heart to see that, and you looked away.

Jungkook picked his bag up again and stormed towards his room. You watched his retreating back, only half-listening to Yoongi’s praise for the lobster frittata.

“You guys keep talking, I’ll be back,” you said, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek.

“Uh-huh,” Taehyung purred, craning his neck and offering his cheek for you to kiss too.

“Clown,” you giggled, dropping him a kiss, and giving him a playful shove. “I’ll be gone just a sec, don’t miss me,” you said, winking and jumping up to your feet.

You had to talk to Jungkook and ask him just what his problem was. You just couldn’t bear his sourpuss charade any longer.

———❖———

Loud music hit you in the face as soon as you opened the door to Jungkook’s room. The guys never bothered to close their doors, but Jungkook had lately started closing his. Another red flag waving right under your nose.

He was on the floor, doing pushups and grunting out at the exertion. His sinewy arms were trembling, and he had changed to shorts that revealed his muscular thighs shining with sweat.

The guy certainly was on the fast track lane to exhaustion.

“Jungkook,” you called out, straining your voice to be heard over the blasting music. “Hey! Can you hear me?”

He went on exercising without any acknowledgment, so you stormed to the stereo and turned it off with a click.

“What the fuck?” he growled, snapping his head up before he caught sight of you.

“Well, you couldn’t hear me,” you said, crossing your arms and standing your ground.

“Of course I could,” he sneered, getting up to his feet and wiping the sweat off his chin. “I chose to ignore it.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief.

“Are you serious right now? You ignored it? What is that supposed to mean?”

He picked up his towel and started dabbing at his forehead, not even sparing you a glance.

“What do you want, Y/N? Why are you here instead of sucking Yoongi hyung’s dick?”

Your jaw dropped.

It was completely out of character for Jungkook to be so prickly. He was always the sweetest and goofiest man out of the lot. What had gone wrong?

“Jeon Jungkook, you dare not speak to me that way,” you said, bristling. “What is up with you? You are so sullen whenever I try to spark a convo.”

He scoffed and threw his towel down. His face was a strange mix of anger and disgust. You couldn’t understand what had ticked him off so bad.

“What is up with me? You tell me, because you’re so smart, Miss. Perfect.”

He crossed his arms and puffed his chest, using his height to his advantage to stare you down.

You huffed in impatience, stressed at his refusal to be drawn out. You had to simmer down and try to make him say what was bothering him.

“Jungkook, tell me why you’ve been so pissy lately. What did I do, to make you so upset? Just tell me.”

He glowered at you, the tips of his ears going red as he clenched his teeth.

“Good question. What didn’t you do?” His eyes swept over your clothes, taking in the wine splotch on your shorts. He averted his eyes, staring at his treadmill instead. “Whose cum are you leaking this time?”

The question was almost inaudible, but the spite in it had already reached you and poisoned the air in the room.

You stood rooted to the spot, shock numbing your senses.

“Did you just-” you struggled to keep the quiver in your voice under control. “-say that…”

You had never been in a real fight with any of your boyfriends, and this was a cold punch to your gut. You had only had the occasional bickering and loads of makeup sex after every disagreement. But this was new. This was raw, palpable and spiteful, and left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You waited for him to rush and say something, to explain and say he didn’t mean it that way. Just anything really.

But he didn’t clarify or even attempt to take his words back. He simply stood there, glaring into your eyes in contempt.

The YouTube video flashed before your eyes. The disgust in his face when he even thought of dating. When he thought of you. The thought crept steadily into your chest, twisting and crushing your heart. He resented you. He resented the relationship.

When you opened your mouth to break the heavy silence, your voice came out in a whimper.

“If you didn’t want to be in this relationship, you could have said so. No one forced you into it.”

He didn’t reply, choosing to glare at his treadmill in stony anger. You went on.

“If I’m keeping you from finding someone else or dating other better people, you could just say so. Instead of insulting me like this.”

He snapped his head to face you, fury painting his face red.

“What the fuck are you going on about?”

“Please, Jungkook,” you said, scoffing and masking the low sob that threatened to escape your chest. “You resent being with me. You can’t even stand me. You don’t have to stay and feel trapped in this relationship. You think- you think-“ You bit your lip, “-you think I’m a slut. You could have just declined to be part of this. None of us forced you.”

His eyes went wide in shock.

“Why would you say that? That’s not fucking true.”

“Are you screwing with me, Jungkook? You don’t even look at me anymore. You cringe when I touch you. Do you think I’m blind to not see how much you hate being in the same room as you? You haven’t kissed me or spoke a kind word to me in weeks.”

He sighed hard, running his hand through his hair. When he spoke, his voice was soft.

“You’ve got it all wrong.”

You weren’t going to cry; you weren’t one to break down so easily. But there was a strange sadness in your tone when you asked,

“Do you love someone else? Are you feeling- trapped with me…with the rest of us?”

He grimaced, the steely look coming back to his features. He shook his head in despair, straining visibly to keep his calm.

“No. What do you… No, what the hell? Of course not. You’ve got it all fucking wrong.”

“Enlighten me then. Spit it out, Jungkook. I’m not a mind reader.”

Taehyung’s voice drifted from the living room, in a muffled sing-song tone:

“Y/N! Starting to miss you here!”

Jungkook’s lip curled, and he stomped to slam the door shut with a bang. He turned to face you, hot rage clouding his eyes.

“This. It’s this. I can’t bear this anymore.”

You had no idea what he was talking about. But you hated loud noises, and the loud slam had pissed you off.

“What exactly is this this you’re talking about?”

He scrunched up his face impatiently.

“God, Y/N. You just- you’re so oblivious all the time.”

This was getting nowhere. He was talking in circles, and you weren’t going to humor him anymore. The slam of the door had already set a headache off, and your patience was wearing thin.

“Just say it already. I’m not interested in guessing games.”

He buried his face in his hands, clawing at his skin. When he looked at you again, you could see the vein in his forehead stand out.

“I can’t do this anymore. This is so stupid. It’s such a dumb idea. I don’t like this. ”

There it was. Out in the open.

“So, you want out? Are you breaking up with me? I already told you that no one is forcing you to stay. And you told-”

“Shut up, Y/N. Just shut up.”

You stopped, jaw open at his interjection. He shook his head, and you could see his nostrils flaring.

“Y/N, I love you. Okay? Don’t be silly.”

“What? Why the fuck do you keep contradicting yourself, Jeon Jungkook?”

He sighed and pulled your wrist, dragging you to the wall. He trapped you between his arms, pressing his warm body against yours, dominance lighting up his feral eyes.

“I want you to be mine. Just mine.” He sighed again, and his hot breath fell on your lips. “I can’t share you.”

“But- “

Your words were cut off abruptly, as his lips crashed into yours, silencing any words that were bubbling up in your mouth.

His kiss was hot and desperate, as if he was scared to stop. Scared that you would say something that would break his heart if he released your lips. The corner of his lip was trembling, and he bit into your lips to hold on just a little longer.

He had strong muscly arms, and they were crushing you relentlessly.

“Stop…” you breathed, pushing against his chest. “Jungkook, stop”

“No,” he moaned, whimpering with closed eyes. “Y/N, please…”

You pushed harder and violently struggled in his grasp until he had no choice but to let you go. Shoving him away, you spat at him with wet lips.

“Jungkook, this is a polyamorous relationship. You know it doesn’t work that way.”

He threw his hands up to hold the sides of his head, a painful look on his face.

“I can’t… it’s not fair. I can’t even stand the thought of the other guys touching you. Kissing you.” He grimaced. “Or fucking you.”

It was your turn to grimace.

“It’s not fair? I’m not just yours. You knew this when you got into this relationship. Jin is the one- “

He snarled and raised his voice cutting you off.

“He’s responsible for this fucking mess. He’s so fucking selfish, and …and…”

“Stop right there, Jeon Jungkook,” you said, your voice raising to a shout. “Don’t you dare call him selfish. He’s nothing but supportive of sharing. Don’t you dare.”

Jungkook kicked the treadmill’s frame, losing his temper.

“He stole you from me. He fucking betrayed me!”

“Don’t be delusional, Jin was my boyfriend longer than any of you.”

“HE STOLE YOU FROM ME!!!”

You flinched at his loud voice, pressing a finger to your throbbing temple. Clutching the sides of your head, you walked away from him.

“I’m outta here. I can’t listen to your deluded screams anymore.”

You stomped to the door, turning the knob to get out. But Jungkook was quicker, and he reached the door to block you from opening it.

“Let me go,” you said, speaking through clenched teeth.

“No,” he said, leaning his back against the door and glowering at you. “Fucking listen to me, Y/N.”

You had no other choice, so you folded your hands and glared at him in stony silence.

“I was the one who fell for you first. I told Jin hyung that I was in love. He told me I was too young, and that it would damage the band’s reputation, and that I would lose all our female fans if the word got out. He convinced me that it wasn’t wise to date.”

You didn’t reply, choosing to scowl instead. He angrily went on.

“And then imagine my surprise when he went ahead and asked you out. And you betrayed me by falling for him.”

Your scoff interrupted his flow.

“I’m sorry, I betrayed you? Have you gone crazy?”

“It would have been me if Jin hyung hadn’t stolen you from me. I would have been your boyfriend, and I sure as hell wouldn’t let any other guy lay a finger on you.”

The disgust in his tone annoyed you to no end.

“Has it ever occurred to you that I chose Jin? Do you think you could just turn back time and replace him? Are my feelings that insignificant to you?”

He shook his head urgently.

“No, that’s not what I meant…”

“And did you tell Jin that you were in love with me? Did you explicitly say my name?”

“No, I- I told him I was in falling for someone. I didn’t say your name,” he mumbled. “But he ought to have known, you were the only girl in my life at that time.”

You blew your cheeks in exasperation.

“Did you think he could fucking read your mind? You’re being so damn stupid, Jungkook.”

He whined again.

“He ought to have known. He knew I liked you very much.”

“He was just looking out for you! He didn’t ‘betray’ you. Why the hell did you agree to be in this relationship then, if you were so against sharing?”

Pain flashed across his face once more.

“Because there was no other way to be in your life. I gritted my teeth and bore it so long just to have a part of your heart. But…”

You tapped your foot, waiting for him to continue.

“…But I can’t share anymore. It kills me to see them look at you that way. It just…kills me.”

There was no response ready on your tongue for that. You had never expected such a situation to arise. You had talked and talked for days with the guys before jumping into the relationship. You had been confident about the success of the talks, but you weren’t sure anymore.

You sighed heavily. This wasn’t going to work. Jungkook and you, it was strained beyond repair.

“I love you, Jungkook. But I can’t and won’t choose you over the others. It doesn’t work that way.”

Something inside him snapped, and he snarled at you, bunching up your nightshirt in his fist.

“What if you got pregnant? Whose child will it be? Who are you going to marry? All seven of us? How will you explain it to the world?”

You struggled in his grasp, clawing at his hand to shake it off.

“It will be Jin I marry. And if I got pregnant, there will be eight people to love the child.” You closed your eyes, clenching your fists. “There’s nothing that can change that.”

The repulsion on his face was clear as day.

“You’re a fucking slut, Y/N.”

─── ·❆· ───

“Hey,” Jin called out, smiling at you from his position on the couch. Yoongi and Taehyung were passed out on the floor, the empty wine bottles sprawled around their bodies.

“Hey,” you said, flashing him a watery smile. “When did you come?”

“Just now,” he said, patting his thigh and signaling you to sit on it.

You shook your head, biting your lip.

“I need to-” you winced, gingerly pressing on your knuckles. “-can you get me some ice?”

His gaze fell on your swollen knuckles, and he jumped up hastily.

“Y/N baby, what happened?”

He rushed to get the ice, barreling to a stop in front of the fridge. There, with his head poking into the freezer door, stood a figure in gym shorts.

Jin knocked at the curly mop of hair, complaining loudly.

“Yah Jungkook-ah, get your head out. I need to get some ice.”

Jin was taken aback when Jungkook whirled around, sporting a bright crimson nose, a tiny trickle of blood running down one nostril.

“The fuck-“ Jin started to say, but Jungkook pushed him away, wiping his nose and storming back towards his room.

When Jin came back to you with a bowl of ice cubes, his quick mind had already sensed a problem.

“Y/N, what happened? Did you- punch him?”

He raised his eyebrow, scrutinizing your face.

“Yes.”

He hadn’t been ready for that.

“But why? You’ve got to tell me. We shouldn’t be hitting each other like this.”

You let Jin hold your fingers and ice them, holding your silence and thinking how best to explain it to him.

“I’ll tell you, but not now.”

He clucked his tongue in dissent.

“No, now.”

“Jin, just leave me be. Not here.”

Your boyfriend pursed his lips, and the disapproval was evident on the curl of his mouth. He pulled you up and guided you to your shared bedroom. It was farther down the suite of rooms, out of earshot from Jungkook’s.

“Out with it,” he said, closing the door and pulling you down to sit on the bed. “Now.”

You never kept secrets from any of your boyfriends. And this was a very big issue that you had no intention of hiding from Jin.

“Jungkook... he called me a slut.”

“What?”

He was on his feet, anger rising in his chest. He knew it wasn’t just dirty bedroom talk, judging from your swollen knuckles.

“Y/N, why did he say that? Tell me everything from the start.”

Ten minutes later, you had barely finished speaking when Jin stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

─── ·❆· ───

Namjoon and Jimin had been out all evening, working on the lyrics for Jimin’s new solo. They were surprised when they got back to a living room full of people, all looking stern and pissed.

“What’s up?” Namjoon asked, hanging his coat on the hook. “Did someone break something?” He internally prayed that no one had discovered the burnt pan stowed under the sink.

No one responded.

“What is it?” Jimin whispered to Taehyung, sliding into a spot on the couch.

“It’s Y/N…” Taehyung started to whisper back, and Jimin exclaimed loudly,

“Oh gosh is she pregnant?”

“Shut your damn mouth,” Taehyung hissed, elbowing him in the ribs.

Namjoon’s sharp eyes scanned the scene. There were only seven people in the room. Serious meetings were supposed to have all eight in attendance.

“So, what is this about?” he asked, settling down beside Jin. “And where’s Jungkook?”

Jin remained silent, his face red in a stormy temper. Namjoon looked past Jin at you, addressing you instead.

“Babe, what’s going on?”

You opened your mouth to respond when Jin broke the heavy silence with a piercing shout:

“JEON JUNGKOOK!”

A minute later, a door opened and Jungkook slunk down the corridor, head bent. A hoodie was keeping his head covered, and he sat down on the couch opposite yours. He looked up obstinately, throwing his hood down, earning shocked gasps.

His nose was bleeding, and the blood had dried up in a red streak. His eye socket was a dark purple, and his cheekbone was swollen, effectively sealing his right eye shut.

Everyone was stunned, and indignant voices started talking all at once.

“Who did that?”

“How did this happen?”

“Jungkook, who did this to you?”

Jin snapped at no one in particular, barking out an annoyed “Everyone just shut up.”

He had a sonorous voice, one that commanded respect, especially when he raised it to a shout. The room quietened down, but a low murmur arose again when his shock of hair bounced, revealing a bleeding gash on his forehead.

“I called all of you here to say that our beloved Jungkook wants out of this relationship.”

He raised his palm to silence the babble of voices that broke out again, continuing with:

“He insulted our girlfriend and she broke his nose.”

Jungkook bowed head, choosing to scowl at the carpet.

“And the black eye?” Yoongi’s mild voice asked.

Jin dug his nails into his palms.

“I did that.”

Namjoon shook his head, tsking in disapproval.

“We need to hear both sides of the story, Jin hyung.”

When no one said anything, Namjoon looked at his youngest friend’s bent head.

“Well, Kook? Got anything to say?”

Silence.

Jin stared daggers at the man in the hoodie, his face a hot shade of crimson. His fingers gripped yours, squeezing them protectively.

“Well then,” Taehyung said, breaking the long awkward silence. “If you’ve got nothing to say…”

You couldn’t hold bear the tension in the room anymore.

“He doesn’t wanna share He wants out!” you exclaimed loudly. “He wants me all to himself! And…” you bit out, glaring at Jungkook, “…apparently, I’m a whore for being in this relationship.”

“What?!”

Hoseok was up on his feet, his fists clenched. Yoongi reached his hand out to grasp his hand urgently.

“Sit down, Hobi-yah.”

The murmur of indignant voices was rising to a fever pitch when Jungkook suddenly stood up. Head still downcast, he muttered:

“Save your breaths. I’m moving out.”

No one stopped him, and his dazed surprise was hidden under his hoodie. He dragged himself out of the room, the stares of his brothers burning into his skin.

“The fuck just happened?” Jimin asked, inspecting your swollen knuckles. “Why is this happening?”

You chewed on your lip, wondering the same thing. What had happened to your close-knit boyfriends? Why was Jungkook suddenly discontented with the bond you all shared? Would your boyfriends slowly fall apart and float away like Jungkook?

You looked around the room, watching the intent faces of your boyfriends as they listened to Jin’s account of the day’s events. Would you lose them all one by one?

─── ·❆· ───

It was really awkward to go to your boyfriends’ studios when they practiced. Awkward because Jungkook was there too, dancing and sweating it out with the rest of them. He removed himself from the room whenever you showed up, and the shift in the mood was palpable.

The others confided in you that they weren’t on speaking terms with Jungkook either, and that the practice sessions were becoming too uncomfortable to be around each other. You knew well enough that it would take a toll on the group’s performance as a whole. After all, communication was paramount to ensure they were perfectly in sync for their dance routines.

You wished to attempt one last time to see if you could talk sense into Jungkook. So, you found yourself standing outside Jungkook’s studio one evening, long after the others had packed up and left. You had half a mind to turn around and leave. But a small voice inside your head kept telling you to give it one last try. Your boyfriends were already suffering enough. You owed them one last-ditch effort to try and mend things.

You raised your hand to press the buzzer, still unsure. Was this going to be a mistake?

The door opened even before the buzzer stopped buzzing. Jungkook stood in the doorway, with his grey sweatpants on, his hair swept back with a headband. His eyes widened in surprise, and you saw his muscles flex when he tightened his grip on the doorknob.

You were at a loss for words. It was strange because you were never out of words.

“I-uh…I thought…”

His veiny arm found purchase on your blouse, and his lips came crashing down on your mouth. His mouth worked urgently, claiming dominance before you could oppose. He pulled you inside and gripped both your hands behind your back, slamming the door closed.

“Jung…” you panted out, but he pressed his mouth harder, drowning your words. He nudged you towards the wall with his body, pinning you in place. His mouth never ceased attacking you, while he worked to trap your wrists into one hand.

His other hand roamed all over your skin, clawing and grabbing your flesh in hunger. Jungkook couldn’t believe you had shown up on his doorstep after so many weeks. It felt like a fever dream, and he held on to every piece of skin he could hold, desperately anxious not to let you slip away.

“I knew you’d come back,” he moaned between breaths, “…to me.”

You struggled in his grasp, trying hard to shake his hand off your wrists.

“No,” you breathed, turning your head slightly to stop the barrage of soul-sucking kisses. “I didn’t come back to you…”

He froze momentarily. Just a moment later, his grip hardened around your wrists. The soft emotion on his features evaporated into thin air.

Without a word, he pushed you tighter against the wall, pinning you under his shoulder blades.

“So, you’re telling me…” he hooked a finger into the waistband of your jeans, “…that you didn’t want me? You never thought about…” he pulled the zipper down, “this?” His hand tugged the jeans down urgently and slithered into the crook between your thighs.

“Stop it,” you said shakily, feeling your arms starting to fall asleep.

But he paid no heed. He pulled your leg and hoisted your hips up against the wall. You felt insecure with both your legs wrapped around his body, with nothing to support you except the wall behind your back.

“You’re telling me…” he repeated, lifting your hips and slowly dropping to his knees while adjusting your legs so they were on both sides of his neck, “…that you didn’t miss me at all?”

By that time, you were hovering mid-air with your neck against the wall and the rest of your body awkwardly supported on his shoulders.

Your hands were free of his grasp, but they were still pretty useless because they were trapped under the shoulder joints that were straining to keep you from falling.

He grinned from between your legs, licking his lips maliciously. His finger pushed the crotch of your underwear aside. He bent lightly and blew against your bare core.

You couldn’t help it, your core clenched at the rush of hot air and it drew another smirk on his face.

“See? You want me,” he crooned, laying the pad of his finger against your clit. You jerked slightly, and he shushed you softly.

“Don’t squirm, love. You’ll fall and break your neck,” he added with a wicked smile. “We don’t want that, do we?”

“Stop it, Jungkook,” you started, but he dove into your clit at the exact moment.

`Though his demeanor was relaxed and careless, on the inside he was anything but. He pressed his tongue flat against your bud, lapping all your juices with feral thirst. He saw your thigh muscles tremble at his ministrations, and he smiled into your pussy. Gosh, he had missed you so damn much.

His tongue dipped and swirled around inside you, and it took all your discipline to stay in place without squirming and snapping your neck. You hadn’t forgotten what a master Jungkook was with his tongue.

He started sucking and sloppily slurping up everything you had to offer, so hard that you were sure you weren’t going to last. You were definitely going to break your neck.

“Stop, just…” you moaned, feeling a cramp beginning in your neck. “I can’t… let me down. Just let me down, please.”

He raised his head from your crotch.

“Why should I trust that you won’t run?”

You could no longer feel your arms.

“Don’t you trust that I love you?” you replied, struggling to stay in position. “Do you think I am fine with losing you? Don’t you understand that I love you just as much as I love the others?”

He cocked his eyebrow at the last sentence, the slight sting of the words sinking in. With a reluctant grunt, he put his hands under your hips, slowly peeling you from the wall and setting you down.

You weren’t sure if you were paranoid, but it seemed that he knew your arms were still numb. He took his sweet time tugging your pants further down your thighs, but all of a sudden, he flipped you over and caught hold of your wrists again.

Damn, right when the little pinpricks on your arms had begun and your arms were regaining strength.

He pushed and held you down so your chin was against the floor, while his knee dug into the back of your thighs. He felt your hands struggle, and he grinned to himself.

“Y/N baby, you’re so weak. Don’t fight me, love.”

You cursed and writhed under his body, but a steady hand of iron clawed at your hips and didn’t let go.

“You don’t understand, Y/N,” he said, the slight sound of clothes scuffling behind you filling your ears. “You want me just as much as I want you.”

More sounds of something wet.

Page Break

Jungkook gave his shaft a few furious pumps, coating his thick glossy pre-cum all over his length. Damn, he was oozing so much pre-cum. He licked his lips and worked his dick, thinking of all the times in the past week that he had fantasized about your tight little pussy stretched around his cock.

His eyes scanned the pretty little birthmark on your left ass cheek. He smiled fondly, remembering how insecure you had been of it when you first started dating him. And the others. His smile vanished as quickly as it had come.

Jungkook had a lot of girth, and he usually prepped you well before entering. But not today. Not when you were writhing beneath him, trying to escape. With one quick push, he plowed into you, burying himself to the hilt.

A surprised whimper escaped your lips. He gave you no time to adjust, slamming into you repeatedly. The force of his thrusts shook your body, earning gasps that you fought hard to bite down. He kept up the unrelenting pace, pounding harder and harder with each thrust.

“What,” he panted between breaths, “won’t you moan for me?”

“Get off me, Jeon Jungkook,” you ground out through gritted teeth. He only chuckled in response.

His panting grew harder, and his thrusts became sloppier. You knew he was close. What would he do after that? He wasn’t going to let you go easily.

He pulled out and flipped you over, his hand returning to hold your hips down. Aligning his cock against your entrance, he pushed in again.

“Look at me,” he said, voice thick and needy. “Look at me when I cum in you.”

You stared back in defiance. Even though you loved Jungkook just as much as the others, none of them ever violated you like this. They hadn’t ever laid a finger on you against your will.

“You don’t love me,” you said calmly.

He raised an eyebrow, still slamming his hips into you.

“Your mind games won’t work on me, Y/N,” he replied, heavily panting. “You’re not going anywhere.” He licked the sweat on the corners of his mouth. “I’ll never let you leave me.”

With each thrust, your love for him withered and crumbled even more. A deep sense of regret washed over you for ever loving him. He didn’t understand love. He didn’t respect you. You had to get out of his grasp as quickly as you could. Would he take you somewhere and hold you hostage? Would he lock you up in a room and never let you see the light of day?

His thighs began shaking, and his thrusts became sloppy.

“Look here,” he grunted, teetering dangerously close to his release. “Fucking take my cum.”

He closed his eyes, his dick pulsing and throbbing inside you with the force of his orgasm. His grip on your body momentarily slipped, and you seized the chance.

Gathering all your strength, you punched him square in the balls, causing him to hiss in pain and topple over you. Even before he could react, you hit him in the ribs and pushed his body off, hauling your lower body out from under him.

His hand desperately snatched at your legs, but you kicked him and slithered away. He screamed out and clutched at your ankle, not letting go.

“Get off!” You screamed, reaching for the jeans bunched around your thighs.

The anger was bubbling in his face.

“No!” he shouted, trying to pull you by the ankle.

You swung your free leg at him, sending a hook kick that caught him under the chin with a sickening thud.

Without looking back, you scrambled up and unlocked the door, pulling your jeans up and running as fast as you could.

─── ·❆· ───

“Hot chocolate?”

You took the cup from Taehyung’s hand and nestled closer to Jin. Your boyfriend had bundled you up in blankets and seated you on his lap. Hoseok was sitting next to Jin, massaging, and rubbing your feet.

Namjoon and Jimin were sitting cross-legged on the rug, their mugs of hot chocolate forgotten. Yoongi was looking at the sheets of rain outside the window.

Everyone was eerily silent. To be fair, all of you had been shattered when Jungkook left. Over the weeks, a faint sense of normalcy had returned to the household. Until Jungkook cruelly wiped everything away again.

Jin had gone all kinds of crazy when you had run into his arms, your hair disheveled and tears streaming down your face. He had been unable to get a word out of you. He had examined the bite marks and welts with murderous rage, his blood boiling at the sight.

He had maintained his silence when you stayed in the shower for hours on end, curled into a ball on the bathroom floor. He had ground his teeth, bursting at the seams trying to hold his temper. He had soaped your battered body, his heart breaking at the way you tried to stifle your broken sobs.

When you had finally acquiesced to go out of the bathroom, he had carried you outside and dressed you gently. He had then bundled you up in the softest blankets as if they could protect and comfort you.

He had bent to kiss your cheek when you uttered it. Just one word.

“Jungkook.”

You had seen his jaw flexing dangerously. Bunching his shirt in your fingers, you had pulled him closer. Slowly the rest of your boyfriends had returned home. They had all seemed to sense the shift in the atmosphere. Somehow, they had realized that something was wrong.

You hadn’t said a word when Jin displayed the welts on your wrists for them to see. He had told them about the scratches and nail marks all over your thighs, and you listened numbly. It had felt like he was talking about someone else.

The sound of someone’s phone brought you back to the present. The notification sound chimed again, and again. Suddenly, all the phones in the room started chiming incessantly, cutting through the heavy silence in the room.

“What the hell,” Yoongi said, reaching for his phone. “The fuck’s happening?”

All of you stared at Yoongi, the notification sounds still going off in the background.

“What the fuck!” he shouted, furiously swiping at his phone. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Taehyung went to his side, alarmed at the panic in his voice.

“Hyung?”

“FanLive,” Yoongi blurted out, holding his phone up towards all of you. “Jungkook is on FanLive.”

“What?” Namjoon asked mildly, hopping to his feet and peering into Yoongi’s screen. “What about it?”

Yoongi hit the speaker button, setting the volume to Maximum.

“… I was so nervous,” Jungkook’s syrupy voice rang out from the phone, and your ears perked up. “…but I am so happy that I shared this with you. I love all our fans. I really hope you will make her feel safe and welcome.”

Jin slid his buzzing phone out of his pocket, and a news notification flashed on his screen. You looked at it dumbfounded, not trusting your eyes.

‘BBS BAND MEMBER REVEALS GIRLFRIEND!’

Jungkook’s voice was still pouring out of Yoongi’s phone.

“I love this person so much; she makes me really happy.” You could almost hear his bunny smile. You felt sick.

“… We talked a lot and decided it’s time to share our secret. So, yeah… my girlfriend’s name is…” he paused, and all your muscles tensed, “…Y/N.”

You blinked. The constant ringing of phones in the room grated on your nerves. Jin’s knuckles were white, his fingers digging into the sides of his phone. He was seething, the anger growing inside him like an inferno.

“That. piece. of. Shit,” Jin spat out, his body trembling in rage. “I’m going to…”

Jungkook’s rabbity voice piped up again, he was probably showing something to the camera.

“…this is a picture of us…”

You pounced on Yoongi, grabbing the phone.

“Give me that, Yoongi.”

Jungkook was grinning in a successful attempt at cuteness. A turtleneck sweater was hiding the bruises on his neck that your kick had caused. You knew he had probably used heavy concealers to mask the injuries from the struggle.

He was holding his phone up to the camera, and you saw the picture he was showing. It was a selfie Jungkook had taken with you several months ago. You were both smiling at the camera, leaning against each other cozily.

“… this is my favorite picture, Y/N looks so cute…”

Jungkook droned on about how much he adored you and how lucky he was. He even had the nerve to say how happy his band members were for him. You didn’t bat an eyelid, drinking in all the blatant lies he spewed on live camera.

“…that’s the reason for this surprise live stream. Thank you for your love, please accept Y/N too…”

He kept repeating your name as much as he could, as if he wanted to punch your name into every viewer’s brain. That you were his. And his alone.

The live stream ended, and Yoongi flung his phone down in disgust.

“Sick, pathetic leech…” he began, slamming the coffee table. “I am going to strangle him.”

He rose to his feet, but Jimin gripped his wrist tightly.

“No, hyung. Not now.”

“He violated Y/N!” Yoongi screamed out, and Jin flinched. “And now this? I want him dead!”

“Yoongi-yah,” Jin’s firm voice stopped Yoongi’s angry tirade. “Yoongi-yah, we’re all furious. I get it. But we should take a minute to think what to do.”

The younger man glanced at you, and you nodded.

“He has branded me to the world as his girlfriend. You will tarnish yourself if you go beat him up. And that’s not intelligent.”

Namjoon hummed in agreement.

“I want to wrap my fingers around his throat and feel his life leave his body though,” Namjoon said, an unusual murderous look glinting in his eyes.

The buzzing of your phone briefly broke your attention, and you glanced at the screen. It was Hae Jung, one of the BBS stylists. The texts were already flooding your screen. The latest ones popped up in the notification shade.

Hae Jung: Get out of the apartment quick!

Hae Jung: You can’t be seen with the rest of them!

Hae Jung: Y/N!! Answer my calls just once!

“Uh, Jinnie?” You tugged at his sleeve, pulling him gently.

He was simmering in a cold rage, and his gaze was sharp like knives when he snapped out a “What?”

You had a temper of your own and you found it kindling. Taking a deep breath, you displayed your phone for him to see.

“Hae Jung says I should leave the apartment at once. I can’t be seen with any of you. She’s got a point.”

Jin’s wide shoulders broadened as he placed his hands on his hips, shaking his head. Taehyung’s hand squeezed his shoulder, and he said,

“She’s right, hyung. Y/N has to leave.” He composed himself to mask the little break in his voice. “Just for now.”

Namjoon, whose brain processed things 10x quicker, gripped your hand, alarmed.

“I’d be damned if we sent Y/N straight to Jungkook’s apartment.” He gritted his teeth, “Especially after what he just did to her.”

His eyes involuntarily swept over the bruises on your neck.

“Of course not,” Yoongi said, folding his arms. “We’ll keep her safe at a hotel.”

Jimin’s fingers intertwined with yours, and he gave you a reassuring squeeze.

“Let’s send a few of our bodyguard hyungs to keep her company.”

Hoseok, who had been talking to one of the managers, cut the call and flipped his phone closed.

“It’s already a nightmare on Twitter. We need to secure Y/N as fast as humanly possible. All the tabloids will be raining upon us like vultures soon.”

Namjoon’s leader instincts kicked into action, and before long they were smuggling you into one of their getaway cars.

“Here,” Jimin said, slipped out of his coat and draping it on your head. “Stay low, baby.”

Hoseok slid next to you, and just before he could slam the door shut, Jin’s veiny hand slithered into the crack.

He caught hold of your wrist and gripped hard, as if transferring all his strength over to you. No words were exchanged, but the weight of unspoken words was evident in his grip. You nodded silently, and he let go.

Without losing another second, Hoseok slammed the door and the car raced into the traffic, headed straight to a hotel.

─── ·❆· ───

#WEAREHAPPYFORYOU

#BBSGIRLFRIEND

#WELOVEYOUJK

#CONGRATULATIONS_OUR_JK

The bird app was full of Twitter trends talking about Jungkook’s bombshell. Hoseok’s phone kept buzzing every few seconds from all the posts and hashtags tagging his band’s shared Twitter handle.

He had removed your SIM card and broken it, handing you a new one instead. He had also signed you out of all your social media accounts. You had been essentially cut off from any media that would give your identity away.

“Baby, I’ve ordered room service,” Hoseok said, drawing the blinds closed. He did a routine sweep of the suite, checking for hidden cameras out of habit.

“Do you want anything, Y/N?” he asked, kneeling on the floor, and peering under the bed.

“I just want you to hold me,” you said, hugging your knees and gazing at his bent form.

He looked up, those soft brown eyes emanating so much warmth. Without a word, he dragged himself up and crawled into bed, pulling you into a gentle embrace.

His nose was warm against the side of your neck, and you inhaled deep breaths of his comforting presence. Hoseok had the innate ability to bring cheer wherever he went, and it was probably why your boyfriends had sent him to keep you company.

“Y/N,” he said, drawing the words out. “Don’t… please don’t resent us for this,” he said, and your heart broke.

“No, no, Hobi-” you said, turning slightly to look into his glistening eyes. “-I never will.” Taking his hand, put it against your cheek. “I’d never resent falling in love with all of you.”

He nodded and smiled happily, his fears crumbling to dust.

“Just- don’t let Jungkook ruin what we have,” he whispered, and you hummed in agreement. You had not for one moment regretted being with them. Jin had opened the doors wide open to so much love, much more than you had ever imagined.

─── ·❆· ───

It had been four days since you went into hiding. Your boyfriends took turns to sneak visits, it was a mystery how they managed to achieve that feat without getting caught by paparazzi. To be fair, the hotel you were sheltered in catered to celebrities all the time, and the staff were very discreet.

Your stomach rumbled, and you scratched your tummy. Whether it was due to your impending periods, you didn’t know, but you craved ramen. Especially the kind with tteokbokki – that was your favorite. Did you dare go down to the nearest convenience store and eat some?

Throwing Jin’s hoodie on, you let your hair loose under Taehyung’s beanie. Hoseok’s baggy pants were your favorite, they were oh so comfortable. Your sunglasses took a while to find, they were buried at the bottom of the drawer.

Looking at the mirror, you were satisfied with your camouflage and decided to step out. The walk to the convenience store took longer than you had expected. There wasn’t one in sight for a few blocks. It felt good to stretch your legs after so many days. But by the time you entered a store, you were already wondering if it was a good call.

The store was quiet. A bit too quiet for your liking. You’d have much preferred a crowded and noisy ambiance, it would have made you far less noticeable. The heavy oily smell of sizzling fritters wafted to your nostrils, interspersed with the earthy aroma of ground coffee beans.

There were a few girls around the ramen aisle, and you tried hard to be inconspicuous while scanning the rows for your favorite robokki brand. All went well, and you managed to get the packet scanned and billed.

You were waiting in line to use the hot water dispenser, wishing you’d stayed put in the hotel room. The girl standing before you turned with her cup of hot noodles, catching you smack in the eyes. The sunglasses flew off your face, and the hot liquid from her noodles splashed across your neck.

“I’m so sorry,” she shrieked, setting the noodles down in an attempt to help you.

“No, I- it’s okay,” you muttered, deciding to get the hell out of there. In your haste, you bumped into a few more people standing in line behind you.

“Hey,” a girl shouted, picking up your sunglasses from the floor. “You left this…”

You shook your head and tried to dart out of there, but she was quicker. She body-blocked you, extending her arm towards you. You mumbled a quick “Thanks” and tried to move, but she persisted.

“I’ve seen you…”  Suddenly, recognition dawned on her face. “You’re Jungkook oppa’s girlfriend.”

“Er, no,” you said, kicking yourself for ever leaving the hotel.

“Ji Hee! Soo Yeon!” she shrieked, beside herself in excitement. “Come here quick!”

The girls you had seen in the line circled on you, wondering what the commotion was about.

“It’s her! It’s Jungkook oppa’s girlfriend!”

They advanced on you slowly, peering into your shocked face.

“You?” one girl snickered in a mocking tone. “What makes you so special?”

By that time, you were trapped amid four girls, and no one else seemed to care about the bevy of girls in the ramen section.

Another girl took a section of your hair and flicked it in disdain, clicking her tongue.

“Just what did oppa see in you?”

The third one egged her friend on saying, “Good that you threw ramen over her, Min Ji!”

“Empty the rest on her too!”

You started to back away, but the girl behind you pushed you, sending you tumbling forward.

“Let me g-“

The girl had thrown the rest of her noodles on you before you even finished your sentence. Instinctively, your eyes closed for a split second, and you felt your hair being pulled. A weak slap managed to jerk your face sideways before the owner yelled out loudly.

“Hey, no fighting. Take it outside!”

One arm grabbed your hoodie, and another pulled you out by the hair. The one called Soo Yeon threw your sunglasses on the pavement and stepped on it, crushing the glass to bits.

Passersby began to stare, and you had no choice but to make a run for it. You were stronger than your assailants, partly because Jungkook had been your gym partner, and all those arm days came to your rescue.

It was no use to try and keep a low profile now that you were out on the road. Pushing one girl away, you landed a karate chop on the arm pulling your hair. The owner of the arm yelped in pain, and you barreled towards the third one, butting her torso with your head and sending her tumbling down.

You ran like the wind, not once looking back. You hoped fervently that no passerby had recorded the whole tussle on their phone. God, you’d ruin your boyfriends if the little spectacle ever went viral.

Dripping in ramen and terribly out of breath, you made it to the hotel’s private entrance. A car was pulling up, and a startled voice called out your name just as you pressed the elevator button.

“Y/N?”

Jimin bounded out of the car, startled at seeing your disheveled appearance.

“What the hell happened?”

─── ·❆· ───

“But why did you call this urgent meeting, Namjoonah?” the band’s executive PD asked, rolling the paperweight on the table. The conference room in the BBS building was where the group’s most iconic song lyrics were birthed. It had been a room that had witnessed loud arguments about line distribution, heartbreaks over missed awards, and collective joy over record breaks.

“Let the others arrive,” Namjoon replied, his jaw set in determination.

Jin came in soon, followed by a steady trickle of the rest of the band. All except Jungkook of course.

“The fuck is he?” Namjoon bit out, impatiently glancing at the digital clock.

“We’ll get down to business anyway, good that’s he’s not here now,” Jin said, putting an arm over Taehyung’s lap to stop him from fidgeting.

“Well then,” the PD said, dragging a notepad towards him. “What is the purpose of this meeting?”

Everyone looked at Namjoon in unison, expecting him to spell it out for them.

“We all want to terminate our contracts with the agency,” he began, causing the PD to inhale sharply and lean forward urgently.

“What?”

“… effective immediately,” Namjoon said, his mouth set in a straight line.

“But why? Have we failed you in any way? You can tell me your grievances! I can try and resolve…”

Yoongi’s slow drawling voice eclipsed his boss’s.

“We are willing to reconsider if…”

The PD’s eyes widened in urgency. “If?”

“If you terminate Jungkook’s contract instead.”

Right on cue, the door opened and Jungkook walked in, an air of lazy arrogance stamped all over him.

He slipped into a seat, swiveling on his chair from left to right just to spite the men who were glaring at him.

“Don’t own a watch?” Jin asked scathingly, earning just a cool raise of eyebrows in response.

The PD was still speechless from the earlier discussion, so he didn’t participate in the bickering over Jungkook’s lack of punctuality. The babble of voices grew louder and louder around him.

“I don’t care for your disapproval,” Jungkook was shouting, slapping his fist on the table, when the boss shook himself into action.

“Stop!” he yelled, his voice cutting through the cacophony.

He glared at the youngest member, effectively silencing him.

“Now, what the hell is this actually about?” He turned to Jin. “You! Eldest! Speak.”

Jin looked at Namjoon, who nodded encouragingly. He cleared his throat, unsure how to start.

“Well, you know about our girlfriend…”

The boss sighed. Of course, this was about you. He had been privy to the unusual relationship between you and his artists. And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t expected this rift to occur sometime or the other. He had had years of experience working with hormonal youngsters to expect otherwise.

“Personal conflicts cannot influence your contracts,” he said, eyeing Jin sternly.

“Yeah, tell him,” Jungkook drawled haughtily.

“And you, shut your face,” the boss spat out, furious that his multimillion-dollar band was fraying at the edges because of girl problems.

“Personal?” Taehyung asked incredulously. “Of course it’s personal! Our girlfriend got assaulted and harassed because of him!”

“Correction. My girlfriend,” Jungkook said, staring at Jin’s throbbing neck veins. “She’d have been safe with me if she hadn’t been kidnapped and left uncared for.”

“The nerve,” Hoseok shouted, getting to his feet angrily.

Jimin pulled him back to his seat, hissing sharply.

“Sit down, hyung. Don’t let him get under your skin.”

Jungkook leaned forward, his black eyes glowering at Jin.

“I want to know where you’ve hidden her.”

“You’ve caused her enough harm,” Yoongi snapped. “You were the one who violated her privacy. You showed her to the world. You are the reason she got assaulted. You jeopardized her safety.”

Jungkook pursed his lips in stony mutiny. He had no witty response to Yoongi’s allegations.

“Well, PDnim, we want Jungkook’s contract terminated immediately. We refuse to work with him,” Jimin said, getting back on track.

“If you terminate me,” Jungkook said, leaning on his chair and rocking himself gently, “I’ll sue you. Every one of you. I’ll sue the agency till there isn’t a penny left.”

─── ·❆· ───

You knew it hadn’t gone well as soon as you saw the disgruntled looks on your boyfriends’ faces. They had all come to your hotel room with sulky faces.

“Babe?” you asked, holding the coat as Hoseok shrugged himself out of it.

“No go, Y/N,” Jimin said, shaking his head. “PDnim can’t terminate him. And he threatened to sue the agency too.”

There had been only a slim chance of it ever working out, so it wasn’t a big blow. But it did sting your boyfriends to even think of working with Jungkook ever again.

Jin pulled you snug against his body, sighing heavily.

“We’ll figure something out,” you said, squeezing his big arms that were wound around your torso.

“Hmm,” he mumbled half-heartedly. “We got you some lamb skewers,” he said, burying his face into your neck.

“Oh damn it, I sat on it!” Namjoon whined, guiltily eyeing the now squished package he dug out of his coat.

Everyone giggled, a sudden ease settling amid everyone in the house. It felt just like old times. Well, at least partially.

“Fuck you, Kim Namjoon,” Yoongi said, pulling the package from his clumsy brother. “Now I need to operate on this and save it.”

Another wave of giggles. Somehow it felt like you would all survive the situation and turn out okay.

“Mmm, kiss me,” Taehyung said, sandwiching you between Jin and himself. “I love it when you laugh.”

He dipped his head, cupping your cheeks fondly. Jin pressed himself against your back, his hands moving up to cup your breasts.

“Yah, get a room!” Hoseok snickered, slapping Taehyung’s butt playfully.

You smirked in response, pulling Taehyung’s boxy lips towards your mouth, and leaving teasing licks on the corner of his mouth.

“Ah, don’t tease,” he complained, his outrageously deep voice sending shivers up your spine. Jin’s hands squeezed your breasts through your shirt, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. Jin was a sucker for your tits, he loved playing with them. They were his drug of choice.

His bulge poked your back, and he slowly moved backward, taking care not to disturb Taehyung’s kissing. The others barely paid attention, they were lounging about, talking, or scrolling through their phones.

Jin was halfway through a doorway when Jimin’s surprised yell stilled him.

“Son of a bitch!” he shouted, furiously swiping on his phone.

Taehyung was just as startled, and you peeked around his head to see what bothered Jimin so much.

“What is it?” you began to ask, just as the others started to crane their heads over Jimin’s phone.

No one responded, so you pulled yourself out of the Jin-Tae sandwich and went to investigate. Pushing Hoseok’s head to the side, you stared at Jimin’s screen. And your jaw dropped to the floor.

‘BREAKING NEWS: BBS Band member’s girlfriend cheats on him with ANOTHER member!

Tap to see SHOCKING pictures!’

─── ·❆· ───

[wandaromanova]

can i request wandanat x r? r wants to propose to wandanat and has been sneaking around to hide her plans of proposal. wandanat thinks r is cheating and maybe leaves her? you decide but angst please and i just love all your work i can't stop re reading them💕

Ruined

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: cussing, arguing, very slight violence, cheating allegations

A/N: hi! thank you for your request! im flattered to know that you love and re read my work! i may or may not have intentionally left this on a cliffhanger whoops 🤭 <3

Ruined | Regret

Word Count: 1.8K | masterlist

(gif is not mine)

You had first met Wanda and Natasha when you were tasked with being the Avengers’ liaison. You were tasked to handpick missions that you believed required the attention of the heroes and assigned team members onto those missions.

You worked very closely with the team, you even lived with them in the compound for convenience. In the time spent working for them, you had grown super close to everyone; most especially Nat and Wanda.

It first started off with the pair going into your office, always asking for missions. You had found it odd considering they never took a break. You didn’t understand why they’d seek out missions when they were clearly exhausted. You figured that maybe they just loved helping people so much that they got excited and anxious for missions, but little did you know what their true intentions were.

They wanted to spend time with you. They wanted to observe you close up and not across a conference table. They wanted to know everything there was to know about you. As creepy as it was, they wanted to get close enough to know what you smelt like. They wanted to know what your lips tasted like. They wanted the relationship with you to surpass professionalism.

Eventually, the two Avengers stopped asking for missions when they came in; they just went to your office for the sake of going there. They’d bring you various lunches every single day and shower you with small compliments.

You’d brushed it off as the women being very good friends that just so happened to be flirts. You were wrong. They were interested in you, in the same way you were in them. You couldn’t help but admire the two beautiful women.

Their green eyes, fit bodies, and kind smiles were a recipe for disaster, in the best way possible. With one look, you’d drop to your knees and do whatever they wanted. They just had to say the word and you would do it, no hesitation. Yeah, it sounds absolutely ridiculous, but it’s painfully and embarrassingly true.

Over the course of time, you had grown closer to Wanda and Nat. Your daily lunches turned into daily movie nights and dinners too. You saw them all the time and you didn’t mind it one bit.

They finally asked you out after a year of spending time with and getting closer to you. It was safe to say, you instantly agreed with a smile on your face as you let out an, “of course! fucking finally!”

•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧─────────❅•

Now, you had been dating the two women for five years. Yeah, it’s been a long ass time, but it still wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to spend forever with Wanda and Nat.

You wanted to get an actual house in the suburbs together. Not an apartment in the middle of New York, but a place you could call home. You craved the domesticity of it all.

You wanted to settle down and have kids with them somehow; whether it be by adoption or via surrogate. You just wanted to have a family of your own with the two woman you loved more than anyone or anything in the universe.

So, you’ve been sneaking around trying to keep your secret, well… a secret. You were planning on proposing to your girlfriends. Yes, this was a very huge step in a relationship, but you felt as though it was the right time. You guys had been together for five years! You were practically married to them already!

You would sneak off suddenly during your usual movie nights with Wanda and Nat or before breakfast to go and meet with different jewelers. You didn’t want to go into a store and buy their rings. That was not an option in the slightest. They were special and deserved special rings. They needed rings that were as unique and one of a kind as they were. It’s what Wanda and Nat deserved.

So, you were constantly leaving, whether it be early in the morning or the late hours of the night, on the search for someone who could make your ideas for their rings, a reality. You would hide your phone from Wanda and Nat’s view and even changed your passcode in order to prevent them from finding out. You’d face your phone down whenever you left it in a room with the pair, as well.

Unfortunately, in your excitement of what was to come, you didn’t realize how suspicious your behavior had been. You figured that you were being pretty discreet, coming up with pretty believable excuses. You even had some of the team help you with your lies, since you let them know what you had planned.

However, you forgot you were dating a world class spy and a witch. You were wrong, obviously. As each day passed, your girlfriends worried and assumed the worst. They let their minds spiral and searched for worst case scenarios. The worst one of all seeming the most likely; infidelity. They came to the conclusion that you were cheating on them.

•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧─────────❅•

Natasha and Wanda cried to one another on one of the nights you bolted off and zoomed out of the apartment with a lame excuse.

Wanda sat on the couch as Nat held her in her arms. They both had tears cascading down their faces as their thoughts were plagued by you; by your supposed betrayal.

“How? How could she do this to us? After everything we’ve been through? She’s goes and cheats on us?” Wanda spoke brokenly as she released a sob. Natasha pulled Wanda closer, the Sokovian woman placing her head in the crook of Nat’s neck.

“I don’t know. I really don’t know, Wanda. All I know is, this can’t go on any longer.” Natasha spoke, trying to keep her voice steady, but her voice failed her. She came out shaky as the sadness and hurt seeped in. You had betrayed them, or so they thought.

They sat there in the same position, waiting for your return. Finally, four hours later. You had come back to the apartment.

You were ecstatic as you made your way up to the front door. You finally found a jeweler that could make the perfect rings for Wanda and Nat! You couldn’t wait to get on one knee and present the rings to the two women who would forever hold your heart. You were over the moon excited right now.

However, your joy was quickly wiped away the second you stepped foot into the apartment. You took in the sight of Wanda and Natasha on the couch, staring at you with dried and fresh tears on their faces. You instantly shut the door and tossed your keys onto the counter as you rushed towards your girlfriends worriedly.

��Nat, Wands, what’s wrong loves?” You asked as you approached them, but Natasha abruptly stood up before you could get too close.

“Don’t you take another fucking step!” Nat snapped at you, and you stumbled backwards a little, in total shock. Your concern increased as you looked between the fuming redhead and the heartbroken looking brunette.

“Did something happen? What’s wrong?” You were so confused and desperately wanted to comfort your girlfriends. You don’t recall doing anything that could anger and upset them this much.

“Yeah, something happened. Our girlfriend is a fucking pathetic, cheating ass bitch who can’t keep it in her pants.” Natasha spoke with venom dripping from her tone. You literally let out a gasp, her words physically hurting you.

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m not cheating on you guys! I love you both more than you guys could even imagine!” You raised your voice, getting frustrated with the situation.

Wanda suddenly stood up and stuck beside Nat. She stared at you with anger clouding her sadness now.

“You’re not cheating on us? Then why the hell have you been running off at weird hours of the day? Why have you been hiding your phone from us?” Wanda began to fire a bunch of questions towards you.

You froze in your place. The answers to their questions weren’t what they thought they would be. The true answers were the complete opposite of cheating, you were acting weird because you were planning on proposing! But you couldn’t tell them that!

You stood silently as the two women stared at you, breathing heavily. They took your silence as confirmation of their suspicions.

“We fucking knew it. You’re a fucking joke, Y/N. Were we not enough for you? Was two women not enough for you?” Wanda inched her way towards you, eyes glowing red.

You backed away, not in fear, but in sadness. You really wished you could tell them the real reasons behind your behavior, but you couldn’t without blowing up your surprise.

“Did you really think you could go behind our backs without us noticing?” Wanda continued to stalk towards you, like she was about to murder you.

“I swear to you both, I would never, ever, cheat on you guys. You’re both more than enough for me. You’re my home, I’d never jeopardize that.” You tried to convince your girlfriends to believe you, but they weren’t having it.

“Stop lying to us!” Wanda screamed out as she sent you flying back with a scarlet colored blast as she used her powers on you. Your back connected with the front door as you groaned. That was going to be a huge bruise later, for sure.

“I’m not lying. When have I ever lied to you both, huh? Why the fuck would I start now?” You asked exasperatedly as you stood up slowly. You cringed at the pain radiating from your back.

“And here you go again, more lies coming out of your slutty mouth. The fucking nerve you have, Why don’t you go and fuck whoever you’ve been seeing and leave us alone?” Natasha spoke as she moved forward, placing her hand firmly on Wanda’s waist.

Before you even have the chance to speak, Wanda opened the door with her powers and tossed you out of the apartment. She abruptly slammed the door in your face. Wanda and Nat’s angry, pain-filled faces and scarlet colored magic being the last things you saw before the door blocked your vision with a harsh slam.

You sat on the ground in front of the door in shock. They thought you were cheating on them. They didn’t want anything do with you now. What the fuck were you supposed to do now? What did this mean for your proposal? Should you cancel on the jeweler? Or should you hold out hope and pray that they’ll hear you out eventually?

All you did know was that your proposal had been ruined regardless. Whether you told them about your plans or not, the moment was doomed the minute they began to suspect cheating.

Withholding the information from them, caused them to push you away. But now that you look at it, if you had just told them about the proposal, you’d at least be in their arms right now and not on the floor of your apartment complex hallway with tears streaming down your face.

You were at a loss, and you didn’t know if you could gain back the trust of the women you loved.

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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[softboydrew]

friends and arguments

The ocean front restaurant roared with countless tables of friends and families, waiters and waitresses zooming past tables with large amounts of food and drinks as the night buzzed around you.

Laughter and raised voices erupted through the air as y/n watched her boyfriend top off their friends' wine glasses, forgetting count, y/n took a sip of the red wine that stained her lips. The tartness of it washing down her throat caused her cheeks to flush while Maddie leaned in towards her and clink yet another glass against hers.

"This is the best wine I've ever had!" She squealed.

Y/n shook her head, pointing towards the rest of the wine bottles that littered the white table cloth, "You said that one, and the one before that were the best you've ever had!" y/n laughed causing Maddie to shrug and take another sip.

"Then its settled, they're all my favorite!" she announced to the table, friends looking towards the two of them with amused expressions.

"How many glasses did you have?" Chase questioned, his cheeks flushed from all the chatter and body heat.

"It's my birthday, you can't ask me that!" Maddie hiccuped, causing the table to erupt in chuckles and nodding heads.

Y/n watched as Chase took the last bite of his pasta and motion at your friends that it was time to head back to the hotel and take the drunk stragglers back to their hotel rooms.

Y/n looked around, noticing Rudy and Elaine slumped together, giggling at their forks and she couldn't help but burst out in laughter. It was definitely time to go back to the hotel. It's all fun and games until people wake up hungover and not able to get out of bed, especially on vacation. None of them wanted anyone to miss tomorrows early morning water spot activities.

Drew sighed loudly, wrapping his arms around Chase's shoulders, calling out to everyone that it was indeed time to head back to the hotel so the group could get enough time to recuperate before tomorrow. "Y/n aren't you glad that you landed such a teddy bear?" JD said, shoving Drew playfully.

"I know, I got pretty lucky for my first one, huh?" she wiggled her eyebrows over at the group of boys, they all laughed as she winked at her boyfriend who suddenly froze.

Drew unraveled his arms that sprawled across his friends chest and stood up, his expression showing total shock but y/n didn't notice. Y/n stood up, grabbing her clutch before pushing her chair back towards the table. Her friends sporadically following her lead as she said wrapped her arms around Drew's arm while they said their goodbye's and goodnight's.

The walk from the restaurant to the hotel wasn't a long one, but y/n realized quickly that it would be a very quiet one.

Drew wrapped his arm around her as they walked silently, their shoes scuffling against the pebbled walkway. Y/n giggled, playfully poking at his side making him scowl at her with furrowed eyebrows, y/n's eyes narrowed taken aback by her boyfriends action towards her playfulness.

Maybe he wasn't in in the mood? y/n hummed to push away her hurt feelings and snuggled her head against his chest causing him to stiffen under her touch- her heart dropped at yet another standoffish reaction. "What's wrong?" She questioned lightly.

Drew scoffed out a 'whatever' making her eyebrows furrow as she leaned her head back to glare at him, watching him roll his eyes into the night. "Okay, what the fuck?"

If y/n wasn't pissed then, y/n was definitely pissed now. She crossed her arms as Drew flew his hands up in the air and pointed at her like she knew exactly what he was apparently annoyed about. "Are you seriously asking me that?" he chuckled darkly. "Like really?"

"Obviously! God forbid I can't read your mind!" she watched him storm way from her, y/n's shorter legs hurried after him with clenched fists. "Drew!"

He couldn't help but let out an annoyed laugh, shaking his head before rubbing his palm against his cheeks. Sure, he was annoyed at her, but the added alcohol in his system didn't help his emotions and he couldn't think twice about how he reacted.

"What?!" He felt her hand clutch onto his shirt and he groaned, his legs slowing down because he knew he regularly walked too fast for her. "Think! Think about why I might be annoyed y/n, seriously?" he shouted with his arms flying up from his sides. He watched y/n put her hands on her hips in frustration as she looked at him with confusion.

"You do this every single time, why can't you just be an adult and tell me what you're so pissed off about?!"

"No I don't! Why am I always the bad guy and what? I can't be mad at you?" He yelled, his legs bringing him closer to y/n as she shooed him off with her hand, she rolled her eyes and huffed out as she looked towards the beach in the distance, wishing to be anywhere but here, fighting with her boyfriend on vacation.

"You're aloud to be mad at me! But its not fair when you won't tell me why! I mean what could have possibly happened in that restaurant to make you so-” y/n stopped mid sentence as she snapped her head towards him, his eyes wide as he caught on to why she paused.

He nodded, "yeah, yeah" he scoffed as he took off his hat and ran his hand over his newly buzzed haircut. "Now you know."

Y/n covered her mouth with her hand and closed her eyes tight, she never meant to not tell him, but she kept putting it off because she didn't want to scare him off early on in their relationship. He never asked. Eight months passed by and she never told him, now she wanted to find the right time and every time she thought that it would be the time, it would slip her mind. She cursed loudly causing Drew to bite the inside of his cheek, watching her shoulders fall. "I'm sorry... I never meant to not tell you-"

"Then why didn't you?"

"You're older than me and I thought it would have been awkward, or you wouldn't be as interested in me if I told you. We were new and you were so.. so you, and I was nervous and I didn't want you to think differently about me. Obviously, I- I don't know what I was thinking 'cause I know you'd never think that way or make me feel any type of way." y/n gushed.

Her eyes swelling with tears as she finally explained to her boyfriend that he was her first beau. "I'm sorry. I seriously didn't mean to keep it from you I- I promise I'd never keep anything from you intentionally... especially something important for our relationship."

Drew sucked in his breath as the salty air blew around the couple, his eyes glossing over as he watched y/n quietly break down right before him. Drew quickly stepped towards her, his arms hugging her body close into his, her body shaking against his as she cried silently. "You don't have to be sorry I- I shouldn't have been so angry." he cooed. "I just wish you told me."

"I know" y/n croaked out as she sniffled, her big eyes scanning up to his face. Drew sighed, his hands gripping her puffy cheeks to wipe her tears away. "And I feel stupid."

'Shhh" he hushed, "you're not stupid y/n." he chuckled lightly causing her to blush beneath his soft hands.

She smiled lightly, rolling onto her tip toes as she felt him lean down and sprawl his lips against hers. They simultaneously moaned into the kiss as Drew deepened the kiss, licking her bottom lip to ask for entrance. Y/n happily obliged and smiled causing their teeth to clash- his tongue finding hers, feeling like the first time they'd ever greeted one another.

Drew's hands slid down her shoulders to grip her sides and squeeze her curves causing y/n's head to fall sideways while he sponged his lips against her now burning skin. The taste of lingering wine made them both hum lowly before he brought his hand behind her back and yank her against his chest, laughter pooling around them as he rested his forehead against her forehead.

"I think this calls for a truce?"

Drew bit back a laugh and nodded, interwinding their fingers before pulling her towards the pathway back to the hotel. "You know, I'm nervous that I'm your first boyfriend." he said bringing y/n to snort out- squeezing his hand as they began walking, "Let's make me your only."

-

taglist: @pogueslandia @carolineworld

[hardlyinteresting]

Anymore

Dieter Bravo x F!reader 18+ if I know you in real life don't read this...

Each day without her gets harder, each night without him gets colder. Aka Dieter loves you and shoots his shot at some late night sexting Warnings: sexting, needy Dieter, needy reader, feelings, unhealthy but not toxic relationship, long distance smut...but still smut (nothing super graphic) if you want me to add anything else let me know

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

This is based on the song Demi Moore by Pheobe Bridgers: Listen here || Dieter Bravo playlist || Pedro Character Masterlist

Take a dirty picture babe. I can't sleep and I miss your face That is what the text says. But what he means to say is, please tell me you're awake. I think I'm losing my mind in this hotel thousands of miles away from you and I know I'm a mess but I love you. Please don't leave me. 

It’s not too long before his phone lights up with her response; a single photo.

Her standing in front of the floor-length mirror that leans against the wall of their bedroom. She’s wearing a tank top with no bra under it and a pair of cute panties. Not lingerie by any means, but god she’s stunning. He zooms in, greedily taking in every detail of the image. Everything about her, from her exposed thighs to the sliver of her tummy where her shirt has ridden up to the way she tilts her head just enough that he can see through her reflection that she’s biting her lip makes his grip tighten on the phone, wanting nothing more than to feel her skin against his own. It’s been too long. He wonders if he woke her up, his heart clenching at the crumpled bedsheets he can see on the bed behind her. His phone buzzes with a follow-up text. He lets out an audible moan.

Tell me what you want to do to me. That is what the text says. But what she means to say is, I miss you, tell me you still need me. This bed is cold without you. Tell me you’re coming home soon. I know I can be needy, but I love you. Tell me you love me too.

She slips back into bed only half covered by the duvet as she curls herself around the stack of pillows from his side of the bed, passively hoping they might still smell like his cologne. She watches her phone waiting for his reply. Was she too much? Maybe he just wanted the picture? Maybe he passed out? She overthinks. Her eyes drift shut as her phone screen dims to black. Her phone vibrates her screen lighting up with a photo of Dieter lounging in the pool in their backyard. 

“I don’t want to be alone anymore,” his voice is slightly muffled through the speaker, but still somehow, as soft and as gentle as it was when he was next to her, and not an ocean away. “Tell me what you’ll do. Please,” She sighs, wishing more than ever that she could touch him. 

There's some rustling on the other line followed by a low pitched groan, “I’ve been thinking about that trip we took to Spain--the hotel room with the wall of mirrors”.

She can’t help but cast her gaze to the mirror across from the bed, her eyes meeting her own sends a shiver up her spine. 

“Do you remember that baby?” He speaks again. She swallows hard, tearing her eyes away from the mirror, “Yes”. Yes. she remembers. How could she not? The two weeks of nothing but relaxation; both of them had shut their phones off choosing to spend their time together without distraction. The days they hadn’t spent sleeping in, drinking wine, taking naps in the afternoon sun, or swimming in the ocean were spent in their suite. He’d made good on his promise to take her on every surface in the room (more than once). Memories of their last night there fill her head as her hand makes its way beneath the waistband of her underwear. She remembers her back to his chest, her head tipped back against his shoulder, watching in the mirror as he whispered filth in her ear, the two of them falling apart more times than she could count. “Are you thinking about it now, pretty girl?”  

A whimper in the form of a “yes,” passes through her lips. 

“Fuck, I miss you”.

“Miss you too, Dieter,” she all but whines.

“Can you see yourself in the mirror baby?” He asks, voice low. 

She nods, before the realization he can't see her hits, “I can,” she sighs, her eyes once again catching her own in the mirror. 

He tries to picture her, sprawled in their bed, hand between her legs. Each gasp and moan makes him feel like he's on fire, his body buzzing with the need to be with her. Think of me, remember me, don’t forget about me, he silently pleads. His desperation claws at him, settling heavily in his chest; hollow and empty and begging for love. He moans feeling himself getting closer to the edge, “want you to cum for me”. She doesn’t reply, but he listens intently to her breathy gasps and cries. A broken cry of his name has him finishing unceremoniously in his hand and across his stomach. The loneliness lingers, and the emptiness remains. 

When she catches her breath again she lays in silence staring up at the ceiling, begging for the tears to leave her eyes. She stretches out her arms feeling the unsympathetic chill of the untouched half of the bed. And she laughs. She laughs hard than she has in ages. Come home, I love you, don’t leave me, her mind cycles, but she laughs. Her heart races in her chest as she thinks of a million things to say to him, but she can’t get a single one of them past her lips. “I can’t breathe Dieter,” she tells him, her laughter giving way to the tears she’d been holding back.

“I can’t sleep,” he says, “I don’t want to be stoned like this anymore. I still miss you”. 

And so they sit in silence. 

“The sun is coming up,” she whispers. “Sleep,” he says. “Don’t want to be alone,” she confesses smushing her face back into his pillow. “I feel good about this project. I didn’t think it would take so long though”. “I know, Dieter,” she smiles, her eyes fluttering shut, “love you”. He takes a deep breath, choking back his own tears, “Love you”.