#he rarely smokes but just knowing he has the option now is nice for him

[doulayogimama]

This building is turning out to be really amazing. It has a really strong community. There’s an app that you can use to ask your neighbors anything, like recommendations for cleaning people, things to do in the area, people are giving furniture away and posting about it, etc.

I found my handyman in literally 3 minutes because someone messaged me within 1 minute that she had a recommendation. The fact that she was a woman also made me feel good about hiring this guy because that meant she felt safe with him in her place (although Kevin insisted on being here for helping the guy but still).

Our handyman is SUPER NICE and Kevin happened to meet a dude yesterday who sells CA🍃 and he lives in the building too. He came over while the handyman happened to be here and when they saw each other they each excitedly were like, “heyyyy it’s this guy!” 😂

The 🍃🍃 guy was also very nice lol. My handyman then recommended a cleaning person who also lives in the building so I’ll def be taking advantage of that when I’m PP & for Airbnb cleanup. 🙌🏽

Sky has literally made a new BFF here named Mason, they love each other and they’re both super active and extroverted ☺️ I also get along with Mason’s mom, we chatted for over an hour the other day while the kids played and she’s 3 months PP with a baby boy, so we are in similar places in life. Plus, she’s from NY! Queens, I think. So she gets us on another level, too.

We are all really thriving here and I’m very grateful 🥲✨🙏🏽

[ozarkthedog]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒, 𝐏𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

summary: hitchhiking is especially dangerous during the outbreak.

chapter warnings: 18+ only. mdni. dark!joel miller x rescued fem!reader x dark!tommy miller. dubcon → noncon. set a few years after the outbreak and before they meet tess. mention of dead bodies and guns. no beta.

word count: 1414

author’s note: I just want to be their plaything ☺️ this part is pretty tame fyi but the following chapters will be intense.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

No one dies from love Guess I'll be the first Will you remember us? Or are the memories too stained with blood now?

You curse your car as it breaks down halfway to your destination. A town on the outskirts of the state that supposedly was a safe haven. As smoke billows from the hood, you sling on your backpack and head out on foot.

The scenery was the same mile after mile. Carnage mixed with bountiful greenery. Burnt, dismantled bodies no longer empty vessels as flowers and weeds filled the cavities.   

A vulture circles the darkening sky above you as the low rumbling of a truck catches your attention. You turn on your heel towards the sound as it echoes up the road, growing closer.   

It was rare to run across friendly folk. Everyone was trying to survive. Doing things they never thought they’d do and that included yourself.

You knew you were unlikely to survive another few days out in the wilderness with no food or water. Taking a chance on whoever was driving was your only hope. Your hand drops to the gun strapped to your hip. It holds only 3 bullets but no one has to know that. 

The truck slows to a stop and idles. The dim headlights cut through the evening haze and make it hard to see the driver but you hold your ground. There could be a little old lady behind the wheel (unlikely) or a massive motherfucker has his rifle trained on your forehead. 

You raise your hands hoping the little sign of submission will help your cause. You need to find shelter soon if this is going to go south.

The driver’s window rolls down. It’s dark inside the cabin but you can make out the driver’s face as he lights a cigarette. A flicker of orange gives you just enough time to see brown eyes and a head full of dark, loose curls.

Smoke billows from the window as a man leans an elbow on the frame. The silver moonlight paints an eerie haze over the scene, highlighting just enough to know he didn’t have a gun on you.

“What’s this now? You tryin’ to get killed or somethin’?” He asks, a sly smirk tugging on his lips. 

His pointed eyes rake up and down your body and spies your side piece as he takes a heavy drag on his cigarette before flicking the hot embers away. 

“I- My car-” You start but trip on your tongue from the nerves building in your belly.

He looks up and down the road then back at you. “You alone?” 

You nod. “I’m not looking for anything but a ride to the next town.”

The man tongues his cheek in thought before looking to the right. “Whaddya’ think?” 

Shit. There was someone else in the truck.

“She looks nice enough.” The driver mutters ominously. His eyes never leave yours as he takes another drag on his cigarette.

You shift on your feet and swallow down the notch in your throat.    

“Sure.” A deep voice rumbles from the pitch-black passenger seat. “Why not.”

The driver grins and lets out a little holler. “You heard him, girl,” he hooks his thumb over his shoulder. “Hop in.”

Relief washes over you like a hot bath. “Thank you. I’ll give you anything you want from my pack as payment.” You offer as you open the back door behind the driver.

“Now hold on a minute, Sugar.” The driver raises a hand. “Give me your gun.”

Fuck. You knew it was too good to be true.

“How about I give you the bullets?” You counter with a half smile, not wanting to part with your gun even if it was unloaded.

The driver shakes his head. “No can do. The gun or no ride.”

You grit your teeth and weigh your options which are bare minimum at best just as the raspy screech of a clicker sounds in the distance.

“I’m taking off in 5 seconds whether you’re with us or not.” He informs and settles a hand on the shift.

Another screech echoes into the night forcing you to unholster your gun and shove it at the man before jumping in the backseat of the pick up truck.

“Good choice.” He flicks his cigarette onto the pavement and puts the truck in gear. 

The dimly lit cabin reeks of grime and gunpowder. There’s a sack filled to the brim on the seat next to you. You assume it’s weapons or food as your eyes flick to the front seat and meet the grim stare of the passenger.

He’s large; the flannel shirt he’s wearing tugs on his bouldering shoulders as he shifts in his seat to keep an eye on you. His salt and peppered jaw sets in a hard line. “You gotta name?”

He’s unnerving as he stares you down. You squirm but do your best to put on a brave face as you tell him your name. The passenger's jaw twitches but he remains stoic as he keeps his eyes trained on you. 

You couldn’t stand the unnerving silence despite the man’s intimidating presence. “How far are we from the next town?” You ask, timidly.

“‘Bout a day's drive.” The driver says, flicking his eyes to look at you in the rearview mirror.

Your heart plummets. “Shit.” 

“Not to worry. You can stay the night with us.” The driver suggests, sending his partner a smirk.

“That wasn’t the deal.” You argue, instinctively reaching for your gun only to have your hand brush your empty hip.

“You’re not really the one to be calling the shots, now.” The passenger hums before patting the empty seat between the two men. “Join us up front.”

“I’d rather stay back here.” You quip while scanning the back seat for any kind of makeshift weapon. 

“I wasn’t asking.” The older man warns as he cocks your gun, pointing it at you.

Tears fill your eyes but you don’t let them spill as you shakily raise your hands. The man keeps the gun trained on you as he shifts closer to his door to make room. “Climb over.” He commands. “Slowly.”

You quickly nod and do as he says. It was awkward climbing over the bench seat. You try not to bump the two burly men as you settle in between them but with the lack of space your limbs brush their arms and jean clad legs.

Even with the open view of the road through the windshield, you’ve never felt more confined. The passenger slides an arm around the back of the seat and turns his body towards you. “Ain’t this nice, Sweetheart?” 

“The name’s not, Sweetheart.” You seethe through gritted teeth. 

The two men chuckle at your feeble attempt at coming off stronger than you really are. “We’ll see about that.” The older man muses.

You spy your gun as he casually rests it on his knee. You wonder how long you’d have to wait before making a move to grab it.

A harsh hand suddenly grips the back of your neck making you cry out. “Don’t even think about it.” He growls and lifts the gun, pointing it towards your body. 

“Alright. Alright.” You gasp, your throat constricts until nothing but a whimper slips through.

“God damn. You make some pretty noises.” The driver says while pinning your stare and rubbing a callous hand over his crotch.

You want to vomit. This can’t be happening. You needed to find a way out fast. 

“Can see your mind working, Sweetheart.” The passenger claims your attention when he tips your chin towards him with the barrel of your gun. “Don’t think too hard or this won’t end well for you.”

Ice gathers in your veins. You can barely hold the man’s stare as tears fill your eyes. 

“It’d be a hell of a waste to dump this sweet body.” Lust filled eyes trail down your quivering frame as he lets the threat linger. “But it ain’t no skin off our backs.”

Tears spill down your cheeks as your heart beats against your chest. “Don’t be scared, Sweetheart.” The passenger thumbs at the wetness with a soft coo. “You’re in safe hands.”  

He tucks you into the crook of his body despite your weak protest. He smells of cedar and gun power as he cages you into his side. 

The truck veers off the road suddenly. It follows a long winding dirt path that eventually leads to a small cabin surrounded by trees.

The driver lays a hand on your knee making you twitch. “Welcome home.” 

💌 send me mail - feel free to scream at me :)

[kiwi-channn]

Scared to love

John price × fem reader (nurse)

∆ reader has trust issues and doesn't admit her feelings ∆

(reader referred to as "she")

.........🪻🪻🪻..........

She doesn't understand that man at all... With his weird mustache...and the hat he rarely removes...

She has been a nurse in the military for two years... And since she started working with 141 task force... She started feeling more and more upset by every passing day... All because of this man... John price... She sometimes feels that he is so nice to her... Treating her specially... She hates it...

She thought working in the military will get her away from romantic feelings... But she was wrong...

Since he stopped a few soldiers from pestering her .. she can't stop looking at him since then... She can't get him out of her head... His warm blue eyes.. his kind smile (she really thinks it's so cute) ... The way he always smokes his cigars... looking dangerous The way he always covers his head with that hat .. and how he gets angry when he loses his hat or one of his cigars ... The way he talks.. the way he looks at her... The way he asks her if she wants anything at the end of his work... the way he checks on her every now and then during the day ... She hates it...

~I don't know if Iam ready for love again... I mean the last two times I tried, it didn't work out at all... Every time iam left... With a feeling of being unwanted at all... I don't believe that anyonr can love me ... No matter how good iam.. no matter how hard I try... It never keeps anyone... I don't wanna even think about being with someone anymore... I just wanna stay safe ... I wanna protect my heart... Yeah.. sometimes I feel so lonely... So lonely to even eat my meals...~

~But when he talks so nicely to me... When he do small good things to me, like defending me when someone annoyes me.. or help me feel better when iam depressed... encouraging me when iam feeling down.... Those little things push me through my day... Make my heart warm... It make me feel alive... But Iam scared... I don't wanna be hurt... I don't wanna feel the same way I felt before.. I don't wanna be someone's second option again...~

~He is just a man like all men... At the end of the day, he will do the same thing.. he will just abondon me little by little... He will just break my heart ...~

~Iam never gonna fall for this again.. iam not gonna fall for a man just treating me softly... I won't fall again for a man's lies... I will never believe him... Nor trust him...Never...~

She won't give up to her feelings and thoughts ever....

[danyvhell-writes]

Ais headcanons pt 2 ! (Touchstarved)

GN reader - no warnings | Ais, my beloved. My brain won't stop thinking about him, there's so much to say omg ! I need to draw him this is serious :')

+ Not really a headcanon but when I first saw Ais in the trailer I thought he would be a kinda pirate character :') don't make fun of me lmaouiadubgziu !! I really imagined our first encounter with him on the coast of the city/harbor and that his story would be based on pirate tales and marine legends. I'm still sticking to my idea that it would be fucking awesome to have Ais as a captain or something, traveling the seas and oceans with him and his crew. (let me dream) PIRATE AIS AU WHEN ????!!? (Helloooo sailor !!)

• Has really pretty hands for someone who fights so much ! Likes to be presentable in front of you.

• He's a simp in his own ways. Someone making a remark about how good looking you are, he's gonna brag "Damn right they are ! Look at them."

• If you're mixed or have unusual features for your ethnicity, he would try to guess your origins (and he's strangely good at it ?). And if you have a weird/rare mix it's even more fun to see him struggle a bit.

• Likes to share foods ! Please feed him, he loves it. He'll just watch your dish with insistance until you ask him "You want some ?" and lean opening his mouth. He'll gently make you taste his meal in return. You're his little sparrow after all, so of course he's gonna let you peck in his plate.

• If your gaze meets his, he'll wink casually. It's his way to say "Hi babe."

• Completely forgot to ad this in my last hc post but !! If you use ASL, he will learn just so he can talk with you. Teach him everything you know, he's a good student >:) And if you happen to know how to read lips, this man would be thrilled to learn how to do it ! I just know he'd love to spy on people's conversation and gossip with you hehehe

• When you guys go on a walk and see sparrows he's always saying stuff like "Look, your friends' saying hi !" "This one looks just like you, cute." or "Wonder who's the real little sparrow… Sure you're not an impostor hm ?"

• When he doesn't smoke, he smells like a mix of cloves, iodine, humid air & metal (you know what i mean ?)

• Ties up his hair in a little ponytail sometimes and it's the cutest thing ever !!!

• If you're sensitive to the smell of cigarette (I personally despise that shit), he'd be careful not to smoke near you or puff in your direction. Passive smoking is not an option ! When you tell him it's fine, he responds "I don't want to screw up your healthy lil lungs !" ↑ However if you take cigs too, he'll gladly share a smoke with you. Really likes to have a calm talk with you while you guys enjoy your stuff. (+ shotgun kiss grrr)

• If you trip on your feet or something while walking, no need to feel ashamed. He would simply do the same on purpose to reassure you and act like it's something casual. "Can't watch my feet either apparently :)" You can be clumsy around him, do not worry !

• We know he doesn't like easy fights and he's kinda into brats so… give him challenges. Dumb ones, hard ones whatever you want ! He needs adrenaline and what's better than a little dare. "Bet you can't climb that tree in less than twenty seconds !" "Oh yeah ? Don't be presumptuous, I'll show you." and there he goes, perching himself on a big branch.

• Related to that... You're a snarky little shit ? Good. He likes it. Be cocky with him, that's what he needs. Of course he loves your soft side but no bickering nor teasing would be boring. This man needs a challenge.

• Loves going on walks with you and his babies (soulless). He'd show you around, make you visit nice places you've never been to and you get to play with Princess + the rest of the pack ! Sometimes his destinations are a little perilous but it's worth the risk. Two whole hours walking in the mist to watch the sunset ? Okay let's go, handsome !

• You're a trans person ? Great. He is too. Now go makeout like the T4T couple you are. (My Ais is trans and I won't come back on this statement 🏃🏽‍♂️💨)

• Always rests his hand on your hip. Number one resting place, comfortable & perfect shape for it. Sometimes the touch feels almost ghosting against you, you wonder if you're imagining things. Please, do the same for him. His waist is literally snatched with that pretty belt of his, perfect place to put your hands on ! He would really appreciate.

• He's good with makeup. Let him put you some red eyeliner so you guys can match ;) Just imagine him holding your face gently while he's concentrated on making a cool pattern with the liner. "Don't move." "I'm trying sorry !" "Am I that distracting to you ?". He won't mind if you try some on him. Dark lipstick omg, he'll rock that shit !

[gublernatural]

obx grass ✰ jj maybank

warnings ✰ mentions of drinking, marijuana use

summary ✰ jj surprises you with more than just weed

“like never ever ever?” jj looked at you with a slightly confused face. it wasn’t that you hadn’t wanted to try or wouldn’t even try, it just wasn’t something that had happened yet.

“no, jj,” you clarify for the third for fourth time, “i’ve never done it.” you were kind of getting aggravated, unsure of why he kept asking. he was your best friend, but damn could he be annoying sometimes.

“but we smoke all the time.” the ‘we’ in question was the pogues. it was true, there was usually some weed involved in all of their hangouts, but you didn’t usually attend the group hangouts.

“okay? how often am i with them all together?” now you were getting really annoyed. his inquiry into your lack of marijuana use had definitely gone too far and was taking too much time. there was a party tonight and you were getting ready, propped up at your makeshift vanity of a mirror resting on your desk while he interrogated you. “that’s true, i guess. you usually run off with some touron.” jj laughed to himself, comfortable on your bed, tossing around a stuffed animal.

you stopped applying your makeup to glare at him, causing him to laugh more. he wasn’t wrong per say, but a lot of the time you used the touron excuse to get away from the party, not to actually be with one. parties aren’t really your things, and honestly neither are jj’s friends. you don’t hate the pogues, and the kooks in the island definitely see you as a pogue. however, you didn’t really hang out with all of them. you knew john b pretty well, as jj had grown up with him. you were actually quite close with sarah, you two texted a lot and you were her shoulder to cry on when she needed it. after the whole kiara and pope thing you took pope’s side and ended up hanging out with him more. this has created tension with kie, so you don’t really talk to her.

that’s not the only reason there’s tension between you and kiara. it’s very obvious she likes jj, which has always bothered you. you’d never admit it to anyone, but you were very much physically and emotionally attracted to the blonde boy. your family teases you, uses the ‘L’ word, but you won’t admit to yourself that they’re right. so, you avoid kiara. there’s no reason for any unnecessary competition. if he wants her, he can have her, even if it would break your heart.

“well maybe we change that tonight, get some good ‘ole outer banks grass into your system for the first time,” jj smiled as you stood up to grab your bag so you two could head out. “definitely not. my first time getting high will not occur within 5 miles of any kooks, let alone in their backyard.”

“that’s fair,” jj nodded. he grabbed your hand, pulling you to the door. “but we can still get fucked up.” you both laughed. the use of ‘we’ made your heart flutter. if you weren’t going to smoke, neither was jj.

the party was nice, you guys had a lot of fun. you danced, got super wasted and passed out on the couch of john b’s place afterwards. the kooks were surprisingly well-behaved, which made the night significantly more enjoyable than it would’ve been otherwise.

a week or so passes by before you see jj again. he was working a job now. some place on island needed people to clean boats during the day. jj always skipped school anyway so he picked it up. you guys still texted and such, but didn’t get the chance to meet in person.

the sun was starting to set when you received his text: ‘haven’t seen you in a while’. you replied with a simple: ‘sorry! been busy’. it wasn’t really your fault, but you wanted him to know it wasn’t like you were avoiding him. he answered quickly: ‘it’s all good. i’ll pick you up tonight at like 7. i got a surprise for you’.

his text made you smile like an idiot. he rarely ever has anything for you, so this was exciting. it made it hard to focus on your homework as you brainstormed your options.

a knock on your door startles you. you paused your show to open the door and were greeted with jj’s smiling face. “hi” he said. “hi, j”. you wanted to ask about the surprise so bad, but decided not to rush it.

“come on,” he gestured you away from the door. you followed, climbing on the back of his bike. he didn’t have anything in his hands, so you assumed he was taking you to the surprise. you were so excited to see what it was, you didn’t even put down the bottle of water you had been sipping it on. it was a little awkward as you had to hold onto him and make sure you didn’t drop it. luckily, it was a short ride down to the beach. there was a log that you guys would come to sometimes, just to talk about whatever was going on in your lives.

“do you know wanna know what your surprise is?” he says with a smirk. you eagerly nodded, not caring how childish you looked, sat on the log staring up at him. he reached into his pocket, pulling out a joint, placing it in his palm and holding it out to you.

“there’s no kooks for miles,” jj starts, “and i think it’d be good for you.” your smile had dropped when he pulled it out. your heart started to race. “jj,” you said with a sigh, “i don’t know.”

“come on princess, just try it. it won’t kill ya. if you don’t like it we’ll stop.” he was trying to get you to relax, you knew that. your nerves weren’t hidden at all. “i’m just nervous. what if i get all paranoid or whatever?”

“i’ll fight off your delusions, don’t worry,” he joked. when you glared at him, he begun, “no but seriously, i’ll take care of you. it’s not like we’re doing ecstasy, it’s just weed.” you stared at him a little longer before given a hesitant nod. “sick,” he said as he lit the joint and sat down next to you. “we’ll start easy.”

he took a few hits himself first. you could see the way the drug made him relax. the way his shoulders dropped and his face relaxed after a few hits. he turned towards you, “come ‘ere”. he took a hit and you leaned towards, thinking he was gonna pass you the joint. instead, he brings the hand that isn’t holding the joint to the back of your neck, pulling your face towards his.

you can’t help the gasp that comes out of your mouth. you can’t lie, you thought he was gonna kiss you. that thought quickly dissipated as he blew the smoke from his last hit towards your face. the gasp you had let out meant you inhaled a ton of it very quickly. this sent you into a coughing fit.

jj didn’t know what to do. he was just trying to get you started, not send you into an asthma attack. he just watched as you coughed an entire lung up. as your coughs began to slow down, he reached for the water bottle you accidentally brought with you, unscrewing the cap, and passing it to. you chugged the rest of it.

“i’m sorry,” he says as soon as you finish. “i was trying to do the thing in the movies, where they just share the smoke. so it wouldn’t be so scary for you. i should’ve told you first.” he sounded like a little kid as he tried to explain his thought process. if he wasn’t so adorable, you’d be pissed at him.

“it’s fine, j. i just thought,” you cut yourself off, not wanting to tell him what you thought. his eyes seemed wider now, waiting for you to finish your thought. “i just thought,” you start again, “that, um, never mind. i don’t know what i thought.” now you were really nervous. fuck the weed, what if he realized what you thought? what if he knew you wanted to kiss him?

“do you want to try again?” he said, changing the subject. the gears in his head were still turning, trying to figure out what went so wrong. “i’ll just try from the joint,” you said, reaching your hand out to it. “okay, be careful. just start small,” jj instructed.

he watched as you brought the joint to your mouth. he didn’t expect his thoughts to get so dirty as he watched you. as you inhaled, all he could think about was what other things you could wrap your lips around. this brought his eyes down to your lips. “shit,” he whispered with a small smile.

you finished your turn, passing the joint back to him. “shit what?” you asked after letting out another cough or two.

“you thought i was gonna kiss you.” he declared.

you face flushed, and your expression drop. how the fuck did he know that? jj’s not dumb, but you didn’t expect him to figure that out. “what are you talking about?” you sheepishly asked.

“wanna know how i know?” a big grin spread across his face as he locked eyes with you. your eyes were wide, trying to see if he was just guessing or actually figured it out. you nodded.

“because i really wanna kiss you right now.”

[lily-alphonse]

Omg pls do smth for Haley x Sebastian. I can imagine her hating him for being the ‘town freak’ but she actually loves him yk yk??

Hi Seph! I had an insane brain blast for this one and I would love to write it one day. I'm going to try to summarize as best as I can because my brain is absolutely sprinting with this idea and I already have the makings of a full fic formed lol. 

I checked AO3 for funsies and was surprised to find they genuinely are rare, I was expecting more. At the time of my search I see ten, you can click here to see existing Haley/Seb on AO3.

I actually have a plan for these two to hook up in my SamAlex series (it isn't posted anywhere yet but sooo soon, you can check out the ask its based on though) but that's more casual, let’s give them the makings of a real relationship this time.

I might have seen this somewhere but I love the idea of Haley going to Sebastian for weed, and that's how they get closer.

I need Sebastian to SAVE her. That’s what got me all fired up. That’s my climax.

Ok so initially, Haley definitely just sees Sebastian as a freak, especially because he was even weirder in high school while he was figuring out his style and stuff. 

She dreads that she has no other option but to go to him for weed, preferring to go through Sam whenever possible, but Jodi is really strict you know, he can't always be meeting her for stuff like that or keeping weed in his place. 

So she has no choice but to meet him.

Sebastian has changed. He's grown, he's gotten his style together. He's kind of punk, but Haley doesn't hate it. (I'm imagining @modern-gremlin 's interpretation of Sebastian for this). Haley's even a little intrigued, but won't admit it to herself. He's not the kind of guy she usually goes for.

The first time she meets him at his house on the mountain she complains about the trek, but she’s wearing fashionable heeled boots and Sebastian looks at her like she’s stupid. “Nice boots.”

“Is that sarcasm?”

Sebastian can't tell if she’s asking that seriously or not. It makes things awkward (high implications that Haley is autistic I love autistic Haley fanon). “Maybe” he decides to answer.

She waggles a gloved finger at him. “No, no. I don’t take sarcasm. I will thank you for your compliment, and your backhanded joke is ruined,” she says matter-of-factly.

Sebastian, amused and a little high, just chuckles and says “Okay.”

“Thank you. Now where’s my weed?” 

Sebastian shakes his head to himself, an incredulous smile glued to his face. He can’t quite shake his sarcastic tendencies when he gestures back to the house, “After you my lady.” 

She nods and flips her blonde hair behind her.

They start meeting up regularly, usually once a month. Always short business dealings. At first Sebastian does offer to smoke her out so she can test it, but she refuses. More than potentially being awkward, she really prefers just to smoke at parties. It's not that she doesn't trust him, she supposes she does if she's buying weed from him, and he never seems to short her.

I want to have a buildup bonding moment where she learns something about him that's surprising and she likes it. Maybe she comes by and he is working on his motorcycle (🥵 every Sebastian lover when we get that scene) and after that starts opening up to him a bit more.

She starts letting him know about the parties she is going to in town where she's taking the weed to. When it seems a little sus or new territory, he asks her how she's getting home and stuff like that, just to make sure she's safe, and she laughs him off. She's a big girl, she can take care of herself. He assures her anyway that if she's ever in a bad situation she can call him or Sam. They are often in town on the weekend anyway. Haley is touched at that.

She decides maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to get high with him sometime. I’m thinking the first time is a fun little hangout with a group though I’m not sure who exactly yet. Essentially I need them to get high and have a good time and with their guards down there actually starts to be a little romantic tension between them but they can’t do anything about it because of the others there. 

Next we get a party scene where Haley is kind of checked out and uninterested in hooking up or playing any racy party games because unfortunately she’s kind of hung up on Sebastian now. Both are individually having their own 'damn I might have caught feelings' moments.

A few days after those realizations they stumble across each other by accident and are both sober, that's important. They have a cute little sober moment like she comes across him in the woods as she’s taking pics, or he takes her out on his motorcycle. By the end of it they are officially both interested in each other. They are looking forward to seeing each other again, but neither of them has spelled out that they're dating. 

Then, first conflict. Something happens, probably some kind of miscommunication. They don’t end up reconciling before Haley gets herself into trouble at the next party she goes to.

This bit originally got too graphic for this post so I will just say, she ends up in a bad situation, and manages to call Sebastian.

Sebastian comes in fully prepared to do jail time. I'm not pretending he is a big guy, I know that, he knows that. He has just seen some shit in his life and knows how to defend himself. Plus it helps that he is pissed. He majorly fucks up the bad guy and rescues Haley.

She's super out of it but murmurs his name. "Seb..."

“I told you I’d come get you,” he says, choking on relief. 

Haley smiles a little and closes her eyes again. He picks her up, walking out of the party cradling her in his arms. 

And then we could get an epilogue of them properly reconciling and becoming official and all that teehee

This ask is a part of the (now closed) SDV Rarepair Challenge! Check out the other answers here, and make sure to boost your favorite so it can appear in the final fic poll! More info on that here.

[sparklyslug]

omg 👀 here you come again and here I go pls!!

DID YOU KNOW I'M JUST DEEPLY UNWELL ABOUT WAYNE MUNSON? AT ALL TIMES??? So I gave him a nice little romance with local drug dealer Reefer Rick, who in my brain looks like Robert Redford (possibly for alliterative reasons, I am just now realizing), as a treat.

This fic hypothetically spans from when Eddie starts dealing, through to Rick getting locked up (during which a string of epistolary romance may or may not unfold), to post-s4 when poor Eddie not only has to cope with the loss of a nipple and knowledge of the horrors in this world, but also with the knowledge that his uncle is fucking his boss/mentor.

This scene takes place some years after the last time Rick and Wayne have properly talked, which I will tell you now but won't be revealed until later, they may or may not have made out against a wall in a sexy angry fashion.

Rick reaches for his cigarettes without looking away, tapping one out as he speaks. “Not having been a troubled teen like myself and Mo here, maybe you wouldn’t understand what it’s like. To feel like you’re out of options. To grab any way out you can.”

“You’ve always had options, just elected to ignore them time and time again,” Wayne says, barely blinking as Rick lights the cigarette about three inches away from his face. “And so does Eddie.”

“Maybe,” Rick says magnanimously, bemused and charmed as ever by the ideas Wayne has apparently held on to about Rick’s options. “But maybe I can keep an eye on him better if he’s exploring those options working for me, instead of trying his luck with someone who isn’t family.”

“You’re not family, Lipton,” Wayne says, close to deadly as Rick has ever heard him. 

“And you’re not his daddy, Wayne,” Rick says, matching his tone for the first time. 

Wayne goes absolutely still. Rick keeps an eye on him, and takes a long drag from his Marlboro. It’s one of those rare times when Mo sits back, showing off the uncanny ability to read when Rick gets to a place where he can and will handle his business himself. 

“But, tell you what,” Rick says, when he decides that no, this isn’t going to be that kind of night. “You’re worried about Eddie. You want to know what he’s up to, and finding he won’t talk to you about it, since he’s at that age. I understand. You want to know what’s going on with him while giving him his space, I’ll tell you.”

Wayne lifts an eyebrow. “You’ll tell me.”

Rick takes another drag and quirks his lips to the side, angles his exhale just to the side of Wayne’s face. Catches the whip-quick glance, only sees the split-second when Wayne’s eyes drop down to his lips because he’s looking so closely for it. 

What is it about this man? Rick thinks to himself, but without any really stress or anxiety. The question’s too old to get all worked up about it anymore, doesn’t dig under his skin the way it did when they were kids. Now he just has to smile. 

“I’ll tell you,” he confirms, and gestures at the bar around them. “You know where to find me.”

Wayne’s still looking at him uncertainly, silent, like he doesn’t quite believe Rick still. Or maybe (in Rick’s wildest dreams) like he’d gotten derailed by Rick’s little smoke screen move back there. 

“I have a pretty good idea of your opinion of me, Wayne,” Rick says with a tight little laugh. “So I guess you’ll have to take my word for it when I tell you that I know my business. I know how to keep Eddie safe. Out of any of the really serious trouble. And I know him, I think. Or maybe he reminds me of someone I used to know.”

Wayne’s mouth is a tight thin line. “Shane, you mean.”

“Even worse than that, sorry to say,” Rick says, taking his eyes off Wayne for what feels like the first time to share a grin with Mo. “I meant he reminds me of me. Come on, Wayne. Sit down, have a beer. Hurting my neck to keep staring up at you like this.”

Mo laughs, and Wayne scowls. 

“I find anything harder on him than grass, and–”

“--and you’ll reacquaint me with your right hook, yeah, yeah,” Rick waves the hand with his cigarette in it at him airily, bringing back his finest over-the-top drawl. “Fiddle dee dee, Mistah Munson. You run along now, I’m quite overpowered by your presence.”

To his delight, Wayne Munson actually rolls his eyes, an expression favored by the fifteen-year-old shithead he’d once been but rarely seen in these more sober adult years. He wheels away from the bar, stalking off without another word. 

“So,” Mo says, nodding for another round over at Chuck, who’s been polishing the same pint glass at the end of the bar for the last twenty minutes, pretending like he wasn’t eavesdropping. “You going to tell me what the hell that was all about, Lipton?”

Rick laughs. “Eh, there’s no point. We’ll never see him around here again.”

Only a few teachers throughout his spotty academic career had ever thought Rick had any kind of a brain. Which didn’t bother Rick too much, since he kind of thought the whole enterprise was fucking ridiculous. School maybe would have been easier for him if he wasn’t so goddamn bored all the time. He always knew where his smarts were, and found them a hell of a lot more useful than whatever had the poindexters like Wayne Munson sitting on the edge of their seat, hand in the air, waiting for someone to call on them. That’s never been him– the waiting. The needing someone else to call his name, before he decides to act. Not his style. And not the measure of success he’s ever looked for.

But he’s got a new Pontiac paid for nearly in full in the driveway of a house that’s what– four times the size of the double-wide he grew up in? Got a fridge full of food and a gym membership he never uses, a few discreet friends he can afford to show some of the finer dining spots in the area. 

And, most revealingly: despite the money that paid for all of this, he’s got next to no kind of criminal record. 

So Rick is smart. He isn’t wrong often. He doesn’t have any way to know that he’s wrong now, assuming it’ll be another fifteen-odd years before Wayne Munson deigns to rage at him again. He'd be even more surprised to know that it’s just the first in what’ll turn out to be a real interesting string of wrong occasions, with increasingly wrong consequences. 

[fayythe]

Divine Love: Prologue

Henry Cavill X OFC Summary: Rhylan Daines property of the United States Government, the training she took on, the beating, and pain was all manipulating her to loose her body autonomy, they tell her to eat a certain way, talk, walk, act. Nothing is hers, how can she escape the torture her life has become? Now an semi-active black ops Navy Seal working for the CIA struggled to make peace with her past.  She was always told that every life she took, every person she tortured, and every soul she crushed was for the greater good, but how is more violence supposed to help the world?  How can acting help her stop being forced to kill?  How can finding love help her find herself? Only time will tell...

Trigger warnings: Slight Alcoholism, Assault, Kidnapping, Blood, Skin Branding, Heavy Depression, Drugs, Undiagnosed eating disorder, Forced Eugenics, Talk of Genocide, talk of war, talk of gore, Hospitalizations for medical reasons, Mental Health issues, Hitman/murder unrecognized by law, Profanity, Military Brutality, torture, terrorism, violence, scars, seizures.

Rhylan's Tattoos

Rhylan's Body Scars Diagram

“Trust is like blood pressure. It’s silent, vital to good health, and if abused it can be deadly.” —Frank Sonnenberg

Prologue

  I watched the snowfall on the iced sidewalk; the sky was so dark only a few stars peaked so far away. I sighed, blowing out the smoke from the cigarette I inhaled. The nicotine filled my lungs with a slight burn, then the smell engulfed me as it slowly disbursed through the air as I exhaled. I rarely smoke, only when I’m stressed and today is one of those days.

My arms were visible, my coat tied tight around my waste protecting me from the wet wood bench. I didn’t know what I was doing here, in front of this little diner in the small city of Saint Heller Jersey, I should be back at the safe house trying to find another way to complete my mission.

Part of me knew that I should, but another part of me didn’t want to move. I was constantly moving, always traveling, always finding a lead no matter where it takes me. I just want to sit down, even if it’s for a few minutes.

I flicked my cigarette, “You know those are terrible for you” I looked over from hearing a rough raspy British accent and saw a tall guy with curly brown hair bundled up in a winter coat, boots, and a green rugby hat. I rolled my eyes, I don’t do very well with the people from the countries I’m stationed at, it’s not like I’m trying to be mean, I just don’t want to say too much and ruin my cover.

The cigarette still burning between my pointer finger and middle finger was halfway finished, in looking at the man once more before throwing the smoking white filtered stick to the ground and crushing it with my foot. I made sure to pick it back up and tuck it into my jean pocket. I’m probably going to accidentally wash the cigarette bud with my jeans, I thought.

The man smiled, “See that wasn’t that hard” I chuckled, his smile was nice, endearing, but also curious in a way. Since I didn’t say anything he spoke again, “What are you doing out here so late at night, especially without a jacket on?” He questioned, I thought about giving the honest answer and thinking whatever, never going to see this guy, again right? “I spend a few months in Russia off and on, this is nothing to me” I wasn’t lying, not exactly, of course, there are more details but there’s only so much I can tell him. He started walking towards me and gestured to the open seat of the bench next to me, I nodded. “American? What are you doing here, not many Americans I know who would vacation in Saint Heller?” His tone sounded curious, but you could also hear the slight rattle of his teeth as he shivered from the cold. 

I chuckled, this poor guy sitting out in the cold to speak to me on the frozen bench. “I’m on business, and you’re right this isn’t my first option for vacation.” My eyes wandered to my hands as I twisted my thumb. “Then what would be your first option for vacation?” I looked at him confused his piercing blue eyes almost carved into my soul, “You don’t even know my name and you’re trying to get to know me?” I asked as my southern draw poked through my words.

I had no problem with him trying to talk to me, I’m a better person to speak to at night anyway: it seems as if I’m more of a night person than a morning person. Trust me after being woken up at four in the morning every day for nearly three years, you’d learn to hate the morning—his voice interrupted my thoughts swirling, “Oh right! Name, I’m Henry, and you are?” Henry held out his right hand for me to shake, Fuck it, “I’m Rhylan”

“Well, Rhylan, what do you say we go somewhere to warm up, there’s a good diner down the road.” I looked at the blue-eyed man sitting next to me. I smiled, “Will you let me frisk you first?” I joked.

Nobody I knew liked that joked, yet he smiled. Maybe he is different.

--

The diner was small, quaint but cute. It was quiet in the booth we sat at in the back of the diner, that I got to get to know him more.

I smiled as I watched him slowly walk to the booth with two cups of hot liquid in his hands, one with a large whip cream swirl on top. I smiled at his cute hitchhiker walk trying his best to not let the cups spill, “One large hot chocolate for the pretty lady” He spoke in a more elaborated British accent while setting the hot glass in front of me and then setting his coffee across then sitting down.

“You should’ve let me pay, I feel bad now” I stared at the large hot chocolate, debating on whether to drink it. It just looks so pretty, with the whip cream and cinnamon, I caved once the whipped cream started melting into the dark chocolate, “Don’t worry about it, also do you even have any British pounds?” He questions.

To be completely honest, I didn’t even really think about the negative consequences to answer this question, I just felt so open around Henry like I’ve known him all my life. “Only about ten thousand” my face was still in the mug of hot chocolate as I said it, to cover what I said and make it seem like I joke I smiled, when I put down my mug he was smiling as well.

“Well pretty lady, did you rob a bank?” He asked, I saw the slight rise in his eyebrow as a curious gleam spread across his face—yet I could still see that charming slight smile. I decide to just go with it again, “No I infiltrated a drug terrorist rink down at some abandon docks” I laughed again, maybe if I place the truth in plain sight it will make me feel less guilt about lying to him. This time it didn’t play through as I wanted, “I’m joking, I swear” I covered nervously, thank gosh he changed the subject.

“So where are you actually from” He took another large sip of his hot coffee, I still don’t understand how he can drink this so late at night and still be able to sleep. “What do you mean?” He smiled, “You’re American, yes, but from what state?” “Texas” I didn’t even think about the consequences of telling him where I am from, my captain would be so angry with me. “That makes since, the funny accent really stands out” “My funny accent you should hear yours” I said in shock, “Would you like some tea or a crumpet?” I tried my best to imitate his accent and we both burst out laughing, “Oh really--- you want a beer with your fried chicken” We laugh harder, “Hey don’t judge you’ll never understand the love of fried chicken.” I spoke as we both started to catch our breath.

He shakes his head, a smile spread across his lips, “I’ll never understand the need for America to fry everything” “Because it tastes better” I shrugged.

It wasn’t very long after when we both left the café together; it was late nearly two in the morning. But we continued to talk and walk through the snowy park.

“Alright! Bad habits?” He questions.

I cringe, “Only one?”

Henry stops in his tracks and looks at me, “How many do you have?” I sighed and smiled “Too many,” we started to walk again. “Cigarettes, uhm- you saw that. I don’t smoke often, once, or twice a year. It’s complicated.” I continued, “All types of junk food, straight vodka—not the shit stuff that tastes like acetone, but like the good shit.” I paused, damn I have a lot of bad habits I thought, “I can’t think of anymore.” I shrugged, we continued to walk again the snow picking back up this time I put on my jacket, not that it does much.

Henry laughs, “I admire you can eat junk food and stay in shape.” I shook my head, “I don’t, heredity obesity actually runs in my family I just end up working out two to three times a day, it’s my go-to when I’m stressed, and so is alcohol, but working out is my first option.”  I explained, checking the blocky waterproof watch on my wrist at two-forty-five a.m. “Jeez, I thought my job is stressing.” I continued without even thinking about what he said, “What do you do—wait, how do you know it’s my job that’s stressing me, I could be a single mom with five kids.” I chuckled, I’m not, but how could he know that. “You’re not, you look about nineteen,” Henry put his gloved hands in his coat pockets and looked down at me on the side of him. “Quadruplets?” I questioned, seeing if he would believe it, he just shook his head and smiled, “Fine you’re right.” I frowned, “But hey! You didn’t answer my question, what do you do?”

This is the time Henry lit up, it seemed like he enjoyed talking about this topic. “Aspiring Actor” He smiled wide. “Really?” My words were longed in a shocked tone, “In anything good yet? I question, my eyes wondering to his brown hair, snow in the soft curls. He shrugged, “I’m getting there I hope…” He smiled at me, I looked at my watch to avoid the melting feeling his eyes give me. Nearly a quarter past three in the morning, I need to get back to my post.

I paused walking, and smiled at him as he turned to face me, “It’s getting late, we both need some sleep” “Fine---when can I see you again?” I shook my head my eyes following to my hands as my fingers tangled into themselves.

“One day, if fate is working on our sides” I smiled. Henry looked a little disappointed, but he didn’t push on it any farther.

“Well, it was great talking to you, Rhylan” He smiled, I could still see the disappointment in his eyes though.

I smiled and nodded, “Thank you for the hot chocolate”

“Don’t worry about it”

I checked my watch again and then looked back at Henry. “Now listen to me carefully, I wasn’t here, you don’t know my name or any information I’ve told you. You’ll tell nobody of me, it’s up to your safety.” I spoke with no emotion in my voice, I couldn’t show him that I felt anything for him, I just met this man.

“Rhylan—what are you talking about?”

I took Henrys hands into mine, “Just trust me”

“Close your eyes” I spoke my voice softer.

Just like that I was gone, that was the last time I saw Henry.

Little did I know fate was working with us.

Looking back at that day, I didn’t know much about love, life and hope. I didn’t know meeting Henry my change my entire life, with one mission, one moment, and one spark of life in my hardship. Then the thought of finding love was absurd to me. The thought of sticking together with one person for life never even crossed my mind.

But it was the moment I wouldn’t change ever again. Other than the savior of America, Henry was my purpose in life other than to become the drunk I was headed onto.

Instead I had something to look forward to, something to think about when I was down, or my many hospital visits, when I was on leave, I could only let my mind ponder about what could’ve been, what could’ve been made. I once thought, love, life, and happiness wasn’t in store for me. Little did I know.

[sailorspazz]

It's been 84 years...or 7 months, rather, but felt like an eternity between updates. But it's finally here!

I was happy that we got more than 10 pages this time. Since the chapter is being released in 3 parts, I'm not sure if all of them will be this length, or it will just depend on the scenes, like how this was a complete conversation between Max and Sugiki so that's why it ended there. Next time we move to the after party, as was shown in the preview sketches from Twitter, so that'll be exciting to see...I've developed so many goddamn headcanons for the party (and even wrote a fic) so I very much look forward to seeing what actually happens.

But back to what we actually saw this time, the dialogue between these two was great, and I loved that it both went over Sugiki’s issues and ended with some much needed comedy; I appreciate that she manages to slip those fun moments in so it's not just angst all the time. Throughout volume 7, it was clear Sugiki was struggling, but we didn't get a lot of his inner thoughts, so it was nice to get some insight from him here. It was definitely heartbreaking that he's been left questioning his own feelings ever since Suzuki told him his obsession isn't love...he's possibly traumatized from everything that went on that day, and I still feel Suzuki owes him an apology (though I don't know if that's likely to ever happen).

Though there were only two characters in the scene, the way Inoue utilized Max's cigar almost made it feel like a third character lol. Whether Max was burning himself and showing off his feet, using the scent from his lighting sticks strategically, or just holding it as a very phallic object in his mouth, it was a nice visual aid to give interest to the scene. I get the sense from her previous series (like Smoker) and author's notes that Inoue has an affinity for fine liquor and tobacco, so she probably had fun drawing this scene since it's rare for this series full of athletic characters to have anyone smoking haha.

Speaking of her previous series, Max talks about his past as portrayed in Gloria. Though he tries to play it off sympathetically, for those not familiar with the earlier story, he was trying to steal the new boyfriend of his ex, so it's not like this was some innocent romance or something (I mean, it's Max, so no one should expect that haha). With his suggestion that Sugiki should try to make himself useful to the one he loves, considering that he's already done so much with his connections to help with Suzuki's development, I wonder what more he can do? Does this have to do with the fact that even Max could see that Suzuki was out of control on the dancefloor, and Sugiki is the one who can calm him down? Maybe Suzuki needs a good long look at Sugiki's totally plot-necessary nudity (thank you Sensei). And what questionable decision could Max have possibly made while glancing at that gorgeous view? He's probably more trustworthy now than he's ever been, but that ass could send anyone's thoughts into impure territory lol.

Max getting totally flustered over Norman was so hilarious. Shortly before the chapter released, I had a dream that Inoue announced on Twitter that this couple was going to become canon, so this conversation about their relationship felt like it was confirming my premonition haha. Though my previous interpretation that Max has been knowingly pursuing Norman for years was off, as he was a total tsundere here as he denied liking him. That actually makes the scene of him helping Norman during Suzuki's performance kind of sweeter, putting his arm around the annoying brat he allegedly hates haha. Also Norman is becoming a Gary Stu more and more as we get yet another lore drop about him, with the reveal this time that he really does have blood ties to royalty. I wonder if this is something Norman himself knows since it was said to be a family secret; his annoyance at Max calling him "your highness" at the Inter could fit with either option, whether it's something he doesn't want to be known, or if he's tired of hearing Max say it as a "joke" because he doesn't know the truth.

The chapter ends with some good stuff, from Sugiki showing he's back to normal by being sassy, to him choosing Suzuki's preferred liquor of rum (wonder if we'll see that reciprocated next time if Suzuki chooses vodka at the party?), to Max being an illegally hot dilf as he puts on his slutty glasses. Does his proposal involve rolling into the after party so they can go get the men they want? I sure hope so! It was so great to finally get an update again, and the character exploration was both revealing and fun. Especially after series dance consultant Ai Shimoda excitedly tweeted high praise about the chapter (which she's presumably seen all of, at least in draft form), I'm so ready to see what happens next!

10 Dance - chapter 40, part 1 summary

Following the Japan International, where Sugiki froze up and could not perform the honor dance, Max takes him back to his place to offer advice. In a discussion that includes topics such as Sugiki's inability to seek help and his ongoing feelings for Suzuki, Max also receives a shock when the tables are turned and his own romantic pursuits are brought into question.

Full summary and highlight images under the cut.

Chapter 40, part 1: Come On-a My Life

Published online on June 9th, 2023, available to purchase on Comic Days, or rent for 10 days on Yanmaga.

A freshly showered, robe-clad Sugiki sits curled up on a bed inside Max’s mansion. Max comes over and tosses a towel to him, saying he looks disgraceful and needs to dry his hair. He says he’d gone to the competition just to see the dancing of the so-called Emperor, and wonders what was up with the lackluster performance Sugiki gave. He sighs and tells Sugiki that he needs to ask for help when he needs it. As he lights a cigar, he asks how anyone could expect to receive the help they need by relying solely on others reaching out to them. Sugiki says that he’s always been surrounded by kind onlookers. Max states that that’s because even if Sugiki were about to drown he probably wouldn’t even raise his hand to seek aid. He wonders why it’s so hard for Sugiki to voice his needs, and complains that he’s a pain to deal with. He’s interrupted as the ashes from his cigar burn his bare foot, and Sugiki takes the chance to say he’s grateful, which garners a shocked look from Max. Sugiki says he appreciates the things Max has done to take his attention away from Suzuki; that feeling of detachment from the real world he had while he was accompanying Max on his adventures did allow him to forget for a while. He stretches and sighs, then confides in Max that he can’t control his feelings. It seems unnatural for Suzuki to no longer be by his side, to no longer be able to touch him, and ponders how this feeling could not be considered love.

He wonders why Suzuki kneeled down and begged at his feet, thinking he might have wanted to do the same thing. He feels a bit defeated that he can’t quite put his thoughts together coherently. He’s then struck by the scent permeating the air, and asks if it’s from the pieces of wood Max used to light his cigar. Max says he used cedar sticks, and though he rarely uses this method to light them, on days like today it has a useful effect in that it can create a calming environment.

Getting back on the subject, Max muses about how this whole saga started because of the 10 Dance, asking if Sugiki planned all of this to satisfy his own ego. Though the story didn’t turn out like he imagined, Max asks if Sugiki would be satisfied if it all ended here. If he values Suzuki so much that he wants to grovel at his feet, then he needs to become useful to him. There are multiple choices Sugiki can make from here, and Max says in his own case he chose to let go of the one he desired (referring to the man he was pursuing in Inouesatoh’s previous work Gloria). It still hurts, but he doesn’t regret it, because even though he was never able to earn his love, he’s still proving himself to be useful to him in other ways. Sugiki asks if this has something to do with the glasses Max tried to gift him with before, and Max confirms that it does, saying Sugiki looks a bit like him, though this other man is older and wears glasses. Meanwhile, Sugiki gets up and starts to get dressed out in the open, while Max silently appreciates the view he glimpses when he turns his head. He thinks about how it looks like he’s got a body that can withstand a lot, and he internally comes to some decision (unspecified from the point-of-view of the readers).

Sugiki asks if the man Max is talking about is Norman, which shocks Max and makes him ask why he’d bring up Edward. Sugiki is confused about who Edward refers to, and Max explains that both he and Norman share the middle name Edward, which Norman hates. Max claims that he hates that irritating brat right back, and says that the one he loves wears glasses, is standoffish, doesn’t listen to a word he says, and is a striking man who sometimes looks villainous. Sugiki points out that Norman fits all of those descriptors. Max protests that he and Norman have never gotten along, and the one he’s after is a Japanese man he met much later on. Sugiki says that Lucas told him Max and Norman have known each other since way back, and though it might seem at first glance that they don’t get along, once Max lays eyes on Norman he’ll definitely try to flirt with him.

Max defensively counters that it’s only because Norman is such a rare species. Sugiki wonders what he means, and Max explains that Norman is a surviving descendant of a bloodline that supposedly died out long ago that has ties to the royal family. Though his relatives are trying to keep it hidden at all costs, Max is sure that it’s true, as he spent a significant amount of his precious time and ample resources researching it. Sugiki states that it seems like he spent all that time and money just so he could get to know Norman better, and Max starts to agree, but then calls Sugiki a brat and says he seems to be back to his normal attitude. With that being the case, he suggests that they have some drinks. He asks what Sugiki would like, to which he replies he’ll have rum. Max says that they should stop quarreling like kids and move on to talking about more mature subjects. He puts on his glasses and declares that he has a proposal.

Previous chapter: #39 part 6

Next chapter: Though a specific date has not yet been revealed, according to Inouesatoh's Twitter this chapter will be released in three parts over consecutive months, so we can anticipate part 2 sometime in July 2023.

[awakeshedreams]

sugar and spice ( 1 )

pairing : resident bad boy!jjk x model student!reader

setting : highschool!au x stepbrother!au

summary :

a messy highschool!au x stepbrother!au where model student reader who has quite a few dirty little secrets sees her world take an unexpected turn when her mother comes home one day with an engagement announcement, to the father of none other than the school's resident bad boy.... Jeon Jungkook.

genre : smut, for laughs, kinda pornish, slow burn with collosaly overwhelming sexual tension

rating: soft m ( for now ) due to adult content

warnings : unconventional relationship of sexual nature, tropes and clichès, teenagers partaking in porn-esque activities, made up things with made up people happening in a made up world, don't like don't read XD

wordcount : 2.3K

a/n : i've been fighting in a long standing war and I have lost. the man known as jeon jungkook had his foot on my neck for years and today, I have finally submitted to my fate and surrendered to his reign.

yes. after a hundred years, i'm writing again. specifically, writing for bts. particularly, writing for jungkook. its been a long time coming.

life just took over and I transitioned into an adult and kind of grew out of the state of mind I was in before. but. sigh. jeon jungkook has been tormenting me the whole time. it was only a matter of time before i relapsed honestly.

so here I am again. in mind, body and spirit, a different person from who I was before but still the same in the sense that with the way bts have my whole heart, jk will always be the demon in the corner of my room that I invite to bed for a cuddle even though it's (probably really) not good for me.

do not misconstrue. I love him more than I can say. but. sigh. he has me in a chokehold, loves. please try to understand where I'm coming from.

anyways, enough with this ranting. you all came here for the nitty gritty so let me not hold you hostage with my dilemma rambling any longer. here's to the first bts fic i've posted in literal years. introducing- sugar and spice.

1 2

Unless they told someone, no one would have been able to guess it.

At school they were complete strangers.

She was the nice head girl with a clean record, all smiles and straight A’s. He was the mysterious bad boy with a track record, all tatted up with bruised knuckles.

She wore plaid skirts with neat pleads in them and pastel sweaters with bows at the collar. He wore jeans with rips in them and leather jackets with studs.

They couldn't have been any more different.

As far as anyone was concerned, they existed on two extreme ends of a vast spectrum.

What they didn't know was that they shared a dirty little secret.

.

You were a girl with many dirty secrets.

For instance, you used to sell nudes online. It was a side hustle you did.

Not because you needed money.

Your mom was a renowned doctor so there was more than enough of that in your life.

Not because you needed validation from people online either.

Even without the constant compliments and the praises you knew you were visually blessed with a pretty face and a nice body too.

All things considered, you simply thought you had a nice pair of tits and you took pictures of them sometimes.

Posting the shots you snapped online came much later when you heard about this website where people were getting paid crazy money for posting racy things.

‘It’s just so degrading…’ It was one of your friends, June, who sneered, pretty nose scrunched up. She fixed her long ponytail and rolled her brown eyes while looking in the mirror at her locker. ‘Who would do such a thing, am I right?’

She said this, but June was the girl who has slept with more boys than she could count on her two hands. And those were the ones she told you about.

Like every other time, you said nothing. Even when it carried on to lunch with the rest.

‘Pretty desperate if you ask me.’ Mei the stellar track runner shrugged casually as she stretched her limbs like routine.

‘Where are their parents?’ Nina the library nerd shook her head in disapproval as she fixed her glasses so it sat right on the bridge of her nose.

‘Um… I don’t think it’s … appropriate… to talk about ….’ Kiko the one who always carried a cross and bible around mumbled into her sleeve.

All your friends spoke of it in derision and repulsion of course. This was a school for proper children so they were proper girls. At least they were supposed to be.

Regardless the conversation sparked a curiosity in you.

So you made an account and uploaded your first picture. Nothing bizarre. Just your tits in a pretty lace bra.

You made sure to keep your face out of the frame because that was the smart thing to do and you were nothing if not the smartest student in school.

In all honesty, you weren’t expecting anything out of it. In fact, in between work with student council and tutoring your juniors with finals right around the corner, you even forgot about it for an entire month.

It was by a complete whim that you decided to open the app while you’d been unwinding at your desk following a tedious day at school.

To say you were amused by the response you found waiting for you would have be a grave understatement.

You were staring at the four figure digit that now sat in your bank account.

Reading through the comment section was even more interesting.

There were all sorts of people there who had all sorts of things to say. Ranging from honestly sweet to downright dirty.

You had never been brought to tears laughing in her life before until then.

It was just so funny to see people misbehave and lose their minds over a pair of tits.

From then on it just sort of became a thing.

.

But that wasn't the worse of your secrets.

You were making a name for yourself on the crude web months later.

The next step was naturally to move from making taking pictures to making videos. Since you was already in too deep you didn’t see why not.

So you upgraded and opened another account. An amateur one where your touched yourself for an audience.

You were no prude.

You might have never been touched by a boy before but you had touched yourself plenty times. Stress and frustration came hand in hand with being head girl. Since you couldn’t quite vent it out at the annoying troublemakers at school, this was your second best option.

Third was watching porn, but that was mostly when you were extremely bored.

But that wasn’t where that little endeavor ended.

Later on it became a lot more risqué.

.

It all started when your mom hit you with a marriage announcement.

She met a guy on her business trip who she really liked and she was convinced he was the one.

Your mom had a tragic history of being a bad judge of character.

You’ve had this conversation at least five times since you became old enough to understand that boys and girls who were just friends didn’t kiss and sleep with each other.

Most times, it felt like she was doing it because she thought you needed a dad around.

You might have once, when you were younger and your mom was too busy with work to be there. But she worked from home these days and you were soo busy with school to worry about things like that.

This time it was like she was doing it for her. You were glad.

Your mom looked genuinely happy when she spoke about this guy.

Who were you to get in the way?

.

She spent almost the whole weekend in the kitchen. It was the longest you’ve seen her in there in your entire life.

She was excited for the dinner on Sunday.

Mr Jeon was the name of the chosen man.

He was coming over with his kid. A son, his only family. His wife passed away years ago.

You wore the dress your mom picked out for you, something cream in color and off the shoulders that brushed your knees. She looked pretty in her champagne dress. It was different from the office slacks and loose blouses you were used to seeing her in.

You stood by her at the door while the guests came through.

Lifting your head from a polite bow, you found herself staring straight into an achingly familiar pair of glinting dark eyes and went completely still.

‘Sweetie,' Your mother said sounding delighted, a soft hand on your stiff shoulder. 'This is Mr Jeon and his son Jungkook.’

Ah. Fuck.

‘Jeon dear, this is my daughter. Isn’t she lovely?’

.

Dinner was a mild affair, with small talk and the occasional clinking of cutlery on fine china.

From the outside looking in, you probably looked the picture perfect family already.

Only if no-one looked close enough.

Arms crossed, tongue in cheek. Your discomfort could be detected from miles away.

The two adults were oblivious.

The dark eyed boy with the slightest wave to his nape touching, brow grazing, ear covering onyx hair sat across you though; he took note of this with a passing glance and wordlessly returned to his food.

Jeon Jungkook had a countenance that betrayed his reputation.

Even though you’ve never talked, you knew plenty about him and you were sure he knew a lot about you too.

You went to the same school.

Dressed as he was in a crisp white dress shirt buttoned at the wrist and dark tailored pants with a fine belt on, it might have been hard to tell what kind of person he really was.

You lifted her gaze from your plate to look study him wordlessly, idly twisting the noodles with your fork.

People either called him the black sheep or the dark cloud but for you, Jeon Jungkook was the school’s resident lone wolf.

He smoked in the secluded areas on campus, sometimes playing his guitar. Beat up people who got on his nerves, sometimes using his guitar. Slept in class the rare times he was there, many times on his guitar.

Being his senior, you had never seen any of any of that for yourself. But you received plenty reports weekly to come to a sound conclusion.

There was no way people hated him enough to join hands in solidarity and make this all up.

It was quite the contrary actually. He had an alarming number of fans.

On the surface level you couldn’t see why. Most times you saw him, he looked bored out his mind and honestly, intimidating.

Maybe it was the tattoos. Or the ripped skinny jeans. Or the leather jackets with studs.

Maybe it was the domineering height and fit frame and structured face.

Maybe it was the intense dark eyes or the silky ruffled hair.

Even then, you failed to see the irresistible appeal in him. All those things that made him up only added to his unapproachable aura.

Bottom line was, he was bad news.

.

You didn’t want to be a spoil sport.

But how much of a thug your mom’s boyfriend’s son was shouldn’t be something that would make her like him less.

They were both their own people. Right ?

It was just that you just didn’t want her to be shocked and devastated if something happened later. When it happened.

Yet it seemed the serious conversation would have to wait.

After dinner your mom suggested you head to the living room to chat over wine and cheese.

You stayed back to do take out the dishes.

Earlier, your mom had stood to do it instead at first.

‘Don’t bother with that, dear.’ She reached for the plates in your hands. ‘Let me do it.’

‘It’s okay, mom.’ You smiled a little. ‘This is your night. I’ll meet you in the living room.’

'Sweetie...' Your mom looked close to tears. ‘But there’s so much of it…’

‘Jungkook,’ his father's voice had cut through the moment. He was a serious man in a crisp suit with a stoic countenance. His voice was just naturally authoritarian without him trying ‘Give her a hand.’

Jungkook stood, almost robotically.

‘It’s fine.’ You said. Politely. Nicely. Tightly. ‘I can handle this much.’

You left without another word.

That had been moments ago and now you were done with cleaning.

You stood at living room entrance for a while, taking in the scene.

The two adults were exchanging moon eyes and whispering in each other’s ears at the love seat.

Jungkook was sitting on a solo seat, but he was on his phone, completely unbothered by what was happening.

Your mom seemed to think it was the perfect time to pull out the photo album right then and there upon seeing you.

It was embarrassing but at least you knew you didn’t have to worry about the pictures spreading at school.

Jungkook was looking, picking up a picture occasionally to rove over, but he wasn’t the type to do that.

He also wasn’t the type to stare but you felt his glance shifting to you and lingering multiple times.

Once, you caught his eyes and he just stared at you across the coffee table wordlessly with a curious tilt to his head, idly flipping a picture of you dressed as a knight in glitter shining armor for Halloween at eight in his hands.

Honestly, it was starting to get annoying.

But you endured. For your mom’s sake.

.

Your alarm went off at exactly ten.

As subtly as you could, you excused yourself with an apology to the guests, saying you weren't really feeling well.

In hindsight you probably should have used a better excuse.

Your mom was notorious when it came to worrying, especially when it comes to your health.

Also, you probably should’ve locked the door before undressing just for good measure since people were over.

But in the moment, you were too busy setting your camera up where you were kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed to be concerned about that.

That day you were testing out a new toy.

.

Distractedly, you took note of a couple of people asking you if that was your boyfriend’s shirt you had lifted over your tits.

You ignored them.

Couldn’t a girl own an oversized tee without getting any flack?

Trivial comments like that aside, a good majority of the audience are fawning over how wet you were and how perfect you bouncing tits look being played with.

Your head fell back and your eyes fluttered shut.

You were sitting there, knees raised to your chest and legs splayed, your gushing pussy in full display where the toy was stuffed deep into her tightness, vibrating pleasantly.

‘I’m close…’ you mumbled throatily, squeezing your tits and pinching your stiff nipples in between your moving fingers. You moved your hips move faster, feeling the toy buzz against fluttering walls. You took a hand off one of your tits to rub at your engorged clit. ‘Fuckfuckfuck…’

Deep in your high, you didn’t hear the door open and close with a foreboding click.

You only heard your name being called by a deep, smooth voice through the heady haze.

Instantly you stilled.

When you snapped your head to look over her shoulder Jungkook was there, hands in his pockets, leaning against your doorframe with his sleeves drawn up to his elbows, muscle roped, inked skin on full display.

When he tilted his head to the side a little, appraisively, you dared to say as a quaking chill ran down your spine and your entire body felt like it was about to burst into flames, a bit of his hair fell over his face.

His eyes were like two black in the dark as he took you in, dragging his gaze up and down your exposed body languidly.

In the back of your mind, you wished the ground would part and swallow you whole.

‘Your mom,' he starts, capturing your attention wholly, dark gaze finally flickering to your face, his voice suddenly lower, hoarser. ‘She sent me over to check on you.’

It took you a moment to realize where you were, who you were, who he was.

It was like a bucket of cold water had been dropped over your head.

Jeon Jungkook, the school's resident trouble maker, soon to be your step brother, just walked in on you fingering yourself in in front of a recording camera.

Well. Yeah.

You gulped.

You were royally fucked.

depending on the response I get I might ( most probably will ) delete this. not because I'm ashamed of my work. because I'm embarrassed of myself. I really swore to never write again and here I am. sigh. yes, I have seen my previous works and noticed just how terrible they were and this is a big reason why. so sorry for putting you through that. a million apologies.

also, that's right. I have adopted a new style which might not be to everyone's liking. another reason why.

anyways, if you liked this filth ( i know it seems mild but I can tell you it's very likely gonna get worse ) please idk uh... fuck this isn't ao3. hm.

like and drop by in the ask box if you liked it and want to see more. it makes me happy. its like serotonin fuel to me.

have a nice day. see you next time ( maybe ). stay fresh. yeah. 💜💜.

[angry-geese]

Hi there <3 I've read some of your works and i'm in love with your writing. May I please request a fluff gojo x fem!reader? Like they finished their work in the evening and spend the rest of the night together at home💕 It could be a oneshot or a hc, whichever you feel to write. Thank you so much ^^ I'm sorry just in case my request is somehow not really clear☺️

Of course! here you go <3

Mochi

Gojo Satoru x reader

Warnings: none! entirely fluff! this will quite literally rot your teeth. afab reader

a/n: this ended up being a little longer than I intended lol whoops

Word Count: 2.5k

Satoru Gojo is a busy man.

The strongest can't really take a break. He’s on call 24/7. People are pulling him in all directions simultaneously. With everything that's been going on, between the mess with Sukuna, and everything happening at the school, he’s been short on time.

He needs a break.

He's more tired than he lets on. He’s good at hiding it. Especially around his students. It's hard to pull him away from his work. He's insistent that he’s fine. When you’re around someone for so long, you learn to pick up when they aren't. He can pretend to be fine all he wants. You know otherwise.

Sometimes what the strongest needs is someone to boss him around.

He’s capable of taking care of himself. He’s proven that already. But worrying is in your nature. You care about him, of course you’re going to worry.

You were a first year when you met him, having just transfered schools after an incident involving a curse. In a matter of weeks your life had seemingly been flipped on its head. The switch took some time to get used to. Switching schools your first year, let alone switching to this one in particular, was never going to be easy. Getting used to the way Jujutsu society worked took a while. He was a year above you, and you remember absolutely hating him. Gojo was insufferable- or you found him to be such. But he was friends with Nanami, who was a friend of yours, so you reluctantly hung out with him. Nanami, being in the same year as you, was the first to help you out, extending a hand and helping you get used to the way things worked.

Spending time with him didn't do much to change your views. The two of you couldn't have been more different. You still are. But something about opposites attracts.

The first time you gave him the benefit of the doubt was the first time he saved your life.

It may be a bit of an over exaggeration. You’re certain you would have survived without his help, but that could also be an attempt to preserve your pride. You went after a curse, not expecting it to be as strong as it was. As far as you knew, it shouldn't have been stronger than a grade three. Being a grade two at the time, this should have been well in your ability. There ended up being more than one curse, and they were stronger than anyone had realized. You were in over your head.

It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known. It's not like you could pick and choose which curses you fought. As a student, that was decided for you.

You had resigned to your fate, separated from the others, injured. Nothing fatal. It left a cool scar, though. But you were well out of your league, put on an assignment far harder than you could deal with. You hate to admit defeat, but you had no other option.

Out of what seemed like thin air came Gojo, taking out both curses like it was nothing. Despite not liking him all that much, it was hard to not be impressed. He was strong. Stronger than you could ever hope to be.

You made it home in one piece.

It was three days before you’d finally confront him.

Getting him alone was hard enough. Being an underclassman, you didn't interact with him a whole lot. You didn't have any classes together. The few times you ran into him were when you hung out with Nanami, who was gone at the time.

When the opportunity presented itself, you took it, cornering him behind the school.

Even back then it was impossible to sneak up on him. He could sense you coming.

“Jesus-” he said, referring to you by your last name, “you look like you want to kill me.”

“You helped me out.” You said. “Why?”

He only shrugged. Not wanting to take that for an answer, you followed him. You were insistent you paid him back. You’d never let a debt like that go unpaid. The first debts are always the hardest to pay back. And when a first debt involves saving your life, well, you’ve got a lifetime to pay back. You only left once Gojo showed up. He needed to talk to Gojo about something, and although you were curious, you didn't feel like sticking around.

Gojo spent the next couple days scheming. You were determined enough you would do just about anything. He could have easily abused his power. It would have been even easier to force you to drop it, but something told him you weren't about to take no for an answer.

You wouldn't.

3pm in the bathrooms. It was hardly a week later. Your last class had ended for the day. You had snuck cigarettes in, blowing the smoke out of the crack in the window. You don't smoke anymore, but you went through nearly a pack a day in high school. There wasn't a specific brand you liked—you didn't necessarily like smoking, but you did it when you were stressed—you just used whatever you got ahold of.

You didn't hear the door open. Gojo wasn't the sneaky type, but he could be when he wanted. You weren't too hard to sneak up on.

If you didn't have contraband that likely would have gotten you expelled, you would have screamed when you saw him. He scared you, not to mention he snuck into the girl’s bathrooms. The two of you would be in equally deep shit if you reported the other. So at that moment you came to a silent agreement.

“You still want to pay me back?” He asked. “Cause I have an idea.”

You perked up at his words.

“Get me mochi from that shop just down the road. You know the one that just opened up?” He asked. “Bring me some and I’ll call us even.”

“That's it?” You asked. It was almost anticlimactic. But despite everything, he was insistent.

Gojo hasn't changed a whole lot since then.

He still has his sweet tooth. He still makes you get him mochi from that shop. It feels like you’re the ones keeping it in business nowadays.

You’re not quite sure who made the first move.

Soon you began spending more time together away from Nanami and Geto. You got along better than anyone—mostly you—ever expected. You weren't the most outwardly affectionate. While you were far from shy, pda wasn't really your thing. Gojo is the opposite. Even now, years after you began dating, he’s still clingy. You’ve gotten used to it. Gojo is possessive, he wants everyone to know you’re his. Not that they don't know already. He can't shut up about you.

Getting him alone has always been hard. Not much has changed in the past few years. He’s only gotten busier. Try to drag him away from work all you want, you rarely succeed.

Tonight he's come willingly. He finished his work early, and all you had left was stuff you could finish in the morning.

Nights at home like this—together—are rare. It feels like you hardly see him anymore. You often fall asleep alone, only to wake up to the other side of the bed being cold. He’s been so occupied with this business with Yuji, that he’s hardly had time for anything else. You sneak away during your breaks, like you’re teenagers again, stealing kisses between classes. You almost don't know what to do.

It almost feels like you should do something to celebrate.

The lights are off when you get home. Your apartment looks empty. Megumi must still be out with his friends.

“What should we do for dinner?” Gojo asks.

“Takeout?” You say. "I don't feel like cooking."

Gojo’s a decent cook, but he doesn't feel like doing so either. He’d get takeout every night if you’d let him. But that's not good for him (or Megumi) so you force him to do otherwise. Because you’re normally home, and you like baking, you’re usually the one to make dinner. There's not much in the fridge. You'll have to get groceries eventually. Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. It shouldn't take long.

“How does Korean barbeque sound?" He asks. "From that place down the street?”

"Sounds good,"

You find a menu buried in one of your kitchen drawers, stashed with other takeout menus. You pick out something—two meals, plus some sweet buns for dessert—he calls the restaurant. You pay the extra cash to have it delivered. Neither of you feel like going and picking it up. It's more convenient than the alternative.

The tv drones on in the background while you wait. There’s not much on tv at this hour. News, some late night soaps. While you do like your occasional soap opera, none that you normally watch are on. Gojo changes it to the news. The weather. It looks like it'll rain tomorrow morning, but the rest of the day is supposed to be warm.

"We should go to the park tomorrow," you say, "having a picnic sounds nice."

Gojo hums in approval. As long as you make those tea cakes—the ones with honey drizzled on top—he'll agree to tag along. Maybe you'll go check out the bookstore too. It's been a while since you've last gone.

You strip out of your uniform, pulling on some more comfortable clothes; a pair of shorts and one of Gojo's shirts. It smells like him. You can't help but bury your nose in the collar.

When there’s a knock at the door, Gojo is the one to answer. He returns with your food. You gather napkins and utensils. Gojo never saw the point in anything other than stainless steel chopsticks. Or wooden ones—those given to you with takeout—if he wasn't feeling up to doing dishes. You, on the other hand, bought all sorts of colorful ones and stands that may or may not have been lifted from various restaurants. That's one habit from your teenage years you never lost. You'd pocket almost anything that wasn't nailed down. Your apartment has a rather impressive assortment of salt and pepper shakers. Not to mention the box of hotel soaps you never use, but took because you "might" need it. He enables you, taking some whenever he stays out of town, bringing them home for you. Gojo can hardly say no to you.

Gojo settles next to you on the couch, his shoulder pressed to yours. He can't keep his hands off of you. He’s possessive by nature. Everyone has to know you’re his. He always has to be touching you. Not necessarily with his hands, but he presses his thigh against yours while sitting next to you, or his body pressed against yours from behind in public.

The two of you eat in relative silence. Gojo’s attention turns to the tv, but that doesn't stop him from practically laying on top of you. Occasionally he’ll sneak bites of your food, and you of his.

When you’re done, you clear away the empty containers, sitting any leftovers in the fridge. Gojo sprawls out on the couch. He easily takes up any bit of space. The couch can hardly fit all 6-foot-something of Gojo. It hardly fits you. You've been meaning to look for another one, but haven't found the time to.

He opens his arms, and instinctively you go into them. You move so you can rest partially against the arm of the couch, Gojo's head leaning against your shoulder. His arms loop around your waist, his fingers lacing over your stomach.

It doesn't take him long to begin to drift off. He falls asleep in the crook of your neck. The low sound of the tv, combined with the warmth of his body makes you want to drift off to sleep. Sleeping on the couch like this isn't very good for your (or his) back, but you don't want to move.

The next time your eyes open, some late night game show plays, disturbing your sleep with loud music. The clock on the wall reads some time past two. It's hard to read the minute hand. You gently shake Gojo awake. One of his eyes cracks open and he lets out a soft “hm?”

“Come to bed,” you say, your arms wrapping around his neck, “it's late.”

His eyes close, and for a moment you think he’s drifted back off to sleep, when his grip around you tightens, and he’s rolling over on top of you.

“I think I’ll stay here with you, mochi,” he says, planting a wet kiss to your neck. The feeling of his lips on your neck makes you shiver.

And though he doesn't move, there's a look in his eyes that tells you he has something planned. You only notice too late that his grip never loosens, and the mischievous glint to his eyes. You couldn't wiggle out of it if you wanted to. You're effectively trapped.

He litters your neck with kisses, sending you into a giggling fit, and he doesn't stop until you’re begging him to. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes from laughing. Your nails dig into your palms so hard they leave little crescent-shaped indents.

When you finally settle down, he’s pulling you into his arms bridal style, heading for your shared room. The bed is still unmade from this morning. Neither of you bothered to put it away. You were busy, and the thought slipped your mind.

Gojo shoves the covers aside, pulling you to lay on his chest. His fingers gently trace up the curve of your spine as he watches the steady rise and fall of your chest. Goosebumps prickle your exposed skin. He’s careful with how he touches you, loving, and soft. It's like he’s trying to memorize every inch of your body. His heartbeat is audible. Steady, and quet, acting as a lullaby. Your eyes shut, but you’re still awake. The intimacy of the moment doesn't go over your head.

He thinks he could die happy at this moment. Any moment, with you, really. Even during fights, or nights where he doesn't come home until long after you’ve fallen asleep, and you’re left irritated with his lack of time. As long as you’re by his side, he’s content.

He doesn't give much to the thought of settling down. His work will never let him. Neither does he think much about having any biological children. You practically have two already. Settling down isn't really an option for the strongest. This is the closest he’ll get to it.

For now, he just thinks about the park, and the blue sundress you always wear when you go.

Not many people can say they’ve changed who Satoru Gojo is as a person—let alone for the better—but you’ve changed him twice. Once in your meeting behind the school, and once again tonight. He’s found the one.

The first debt is always the hardest to pay back. But you've paid it in full.

[lavishedinjimin]

all the good girls go to hell

— synopsis: The Angels made a deal with Jeon Jungkook, the son of Lucifer, to help them bring Y/n back to her good, prim and proper self. Even though Jungkook grants the atrocious plan, he leaves a lesson that no one should give their trust to a wicked devil like him.

↳ pairing: jungkook x f. reader

↳ genre: smut, very slight angst if you squint hard enough

↳ rating: m/18+

↳ word count: 10k

↳ warnings: religious themes, heaven and hell, angels, devils (this fic is not a correct representation of these figures and is purely fictional), alcohol intake, cursing, hard dom jk, daddy! jk, fingering, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, squirting, unprotected sex, breathplay, spanking, face fucking, filthy dirty talk, rough sex, jungkook and his demon cock ehe

a/n: title is inspired by billie eilish’s song all the good girls go to hell. her title inspired me to write this fic! please ignore if you find any errors <3

“You’re not good enough.” 

“You look so pathetic, really.”

“Can you at least try to look hot?” 

“This is why no one likes you.” 

These words will forever haunt you until the day you die. 

It wasn’t your fault that you were raised very strictly, your overly-protective parents treating you like some kind of rare treasure that no one, no man, can touch. The fact that your parents still had to drive you home from school even at an age like this always irritated you to the brim of your existence. So now you can’t even have the freedom, the life of a normal young girl can have. 

Being raised strictly with a heavy-handed family – not to mention religious, too – has taken a toll on your mental health. There’s always the feeling of pressure wherever you go and whatever you do. The fear of not succeeding and disappointing your mom and dad is the worst feeling, like the Devil punching your gut repeatedly, as many times as he likes. 

Plus, some students at your school know you for your lack of “personality”, the boring one, the killjoy. You can’t even refute because it was all true. You never experienced fun, parties, how to have interesting conversations, how to interact with a large crowd, all because of your parents being so uptight in you. 

“Y/n!” The high-pitched voice of your mother calls from downstairs, and you were quick to scurry outside your room and find where she was sitting on the couch. “Yes, mom?” You say. 

She was dressed in a royal-blue dress that goes up to her knees, her hair fixed perfectly and the hairspray is clearly doing a great job of keeping her updo in place. She grabs her purse while your dad walks into view, dressed up in a neat suit. “We’re leaving for our business trip, Y/n. Didn’t I tell you that?” 

“Ah.” You sort of forgot about that. 

Quickly nodding your head, you force a fake smile that you know all too well, “Yes.” 

She gives you a weird glance before she fixes her makeup in a mirror, and your dad decides to continue for her. “We’ve hired a nanny to look after you, so that you won’t go out and about going behind our backs—”

“But dad! I really don’t need someone to babysit me,” You scoff. You weren’t a child anymore, what are they thinking! “I’m an adult. I can handle myself. Don’t you trust me?” 

Trust. Something they don’t have with you, whether they admit it or not. 

Your dad just sighs deeply and starts to walk closer to you. He places a hand on your shoulder as he looks straight into your eyes, giving you an authoritarian look. “Y/n, just do as you’re told and be a good daughter.” 

“I’ve always been one,” you scorn. 

“A good daughter doesn’t talk back.” Your mother retorts. 

This is why you can never argue with them. They never let you speak your own opinion or have your own voice. 

Your parents left exactly at 5 PM as they went on their flight to Madrid, leaving the house all to yourself only for tonight.

It was the next day, and you were sitting on the dining table, eating your cereal peacefully as you watched Netflix on your phone – until the doorbell rings. 

You stand up and quickly make your way to the front door, pouting when you already know that it is the person that was supposed to look after you. 

This is ridiculous. 

“Hello!” A bright, short middle aged woman appears standing on the doorway, her bright energy startling you. “Y/n! I’m May, nice to meet you!” She lifts her hand in front for a handshake, and you chuckle nervously, accepting it. “I’m here to look after you for ten days, hm?” 

“Uh, ah, yeah. C-Come in!” You tried to sound as positive and energized as you could to match her own energy, but you couldn’t. You step aside to let her in, pulling her luggage with her and she immediately takes up the design of the house. She was nodding her head, her arms crossed together while you accompanied her little journeys throughout the whole ground floor. You found her weird. 

“Uh, come follow me, my dad says you’ll be staying here at the guest room —” 

“Wonderful! I thought I was sleeping on the couch!” She claps her hands, excited that she has her own room. 

You look at her with big, shocked eyes, yet you can’t say anything. 

“O-Okay…” you mumbled, “Here,” you helped her open the door and she immediately set her things up. “May?” 

“Yes, my dear?” She stops unpacking her bags to look up at you. “I’ll be at the kitchen, okay? If y-you wanna ask anything, I’m right over there.” 

“Ah, that’s okay, Y/n. Your mother told me everything I need to know. Your bedtime is at eight and no midnight snacks!” 

Your heart drops down to the floor as you immediately encountered a wave of emotions. Why did it matter?! Why did your mom had to apply all these stupid rules when she’s not even around? You thought at the start that you’ll have some kind of freedom when your parents aren’t here, thinking that your nanny might be easier, but perhaps not. 

“Okay.” You say simply. 

How else can you prove to people that you can be better? You're sick of everyone seeing you as the boring one, but your parents were the only thing that was keeping you from having fun. So you decide to be a little risky. 

Step one: Sneak out the house. 

Isn't that what people your age do? Usually they sneak out to party, to go hang out with their friends and have the time of their life. But you had none, no ‘best friend’, but a couple of lunch friends here and there. 

“I should try clubbing.” You mumble to yourself as you sit down on the plush comfort of your mattress. Until you hear your phone chimes, signalling a text. You grab your phone from the bedside table and frown when you see who the text was from. 

Mom: Remember to go to church later, Y/n. 

You didn't reply, instead, it got you thinking. 

Nothing will happen if you skip church, right? You've always attended Mass every Sunday with your parents, so there's absolutely nothing wrong with skipping at least once.

Besides, you need to plot your plans for tonight!

~

“What is this girl doing?” Armaros says in a deep whisper, his well-shaped eyebrows furrowing deeply while he watches Y/n on her phone, laying down on her bed as if church isn't just five minutes away from starting. 

Armaros rushes to the other side of the room to get a better view of her human who lays on her stomach, a white wisp of smoke trailing behind him. He shakes his head, crossing his arms together in front of his chest. “Y/n, Y/n,” he tuts, “What are you doing?!” 

He decides to step forward and reaches forward for his hand to caress the crown of your head. He chuckles when he sees your eyes expand in a quick second, your body abruptly sitting up straight from the tingling feeling in your neck. Your hairs stand up, a chill running down your spine. 

This was Armaros’ way of mustering his presence onto you. Your dad always taught that whenever you suddenly feel a chilling sensation out of nowhere, it means that your guardian angel is there with you and trying to send you a message. 

And you clearly know what he's trying to say. 

There was a slight feeling of guilt – uneasiness, even. But no. You've already decided that you weren't going to follow your old routine. 

Armaros’ jaw drops when you don't move from your position on the bed, only making yourself comfortable even further. ”Don’t you dare skip church...” he slowly whispers to himself. But he quickly shakes his head side to side, trying to be optimistic, “It's just one time. Just one time.” 

Time passes by faster than you think, you sink your teeth down on your bottom lip, chewing on it as you try to Google clubs near you. It was ridiculous, feeling so overwhelmed from all of the options the Internet is showing you. 

There was a generous list of bars and clubs with different ratings. It was a humane decision to choose the best one, right? So you went for a nightclub called ‘Soap Seoul’. Although, you feel your stomach churn when you scroll through the images attached to it; seeing all of the strange blue and red LED lights, big and tight crowds, and an HD picture of their bar. The bar was long and almost occupied the width of the whole club. You don't even know if you can stand such a place like that. 

But no. You can't back out now! You had to show yourself and to others that you can have some fun too. 

~ 

The club opens tonight at 8 pm, letting yourself have two hours to prepare. Rummaging through your garments of clothing, you try to find an appropriate outfit.

“I have nothing!” you whined, eyebrows furrowing in dismay. All you had were simple t-shirts and countless skinny jeans and leggings. Your dresses were almost knee-length and suitable for church – not for a nightclub! 

Armaros stands at a distance, shaking his head at you. 

Until, you heard a loud knock on the door, “Y/n!” May's voice shouts from the other side of the room, “Dinner's ready!” 

Oh no. 

Quickly opening the door, you stared at her with big, worried eyes. “May! I-uhh, I-I’m not gonna stay for dinner…” you mumbled, looking at the ground. 

“Oh, why is that?” she asks, a faint sad tone in her voice. You felt so sad and regretful that you didn't say anything to her because she already cooked your dinner. 

“I-I have plans for tonight,” you hold your hands behind your back, slightly getting embarrassed. 

“Are you going out with your friends?”

“Y-Yeah!” You lie. You've never lied before. 

“Ah, I understand. Have you told your mom?” 

She doesn't have to know. 

“Yup.” 

And there it was again, the chills in your neck appeared while your arm and leg hairs stood up. Armaros touches your scalp, desperate to seek your attention and bring you back to your old, good self. The angel didn't like that you were lying, for he was perpetually accustomed to your good deeds. It was making him anxious for what's about to come. 

But you ignored his message. May nods when you told her that she can have the food to herself. 

You feel a pang of guilt rush through your body when you shut the door behind you, your heartbeat suddenly racing faster. The nervousness in you made your head hurt. Is this the right thing to do? No. It wasn't. But you had to show people that you can be different. Will it be worth it? Of course. 

Thankfully, you spot a white dress that you've never worn before. It was a gift from your cousins that was supposed to be another addition to your collection of church dresses but it was too short for your liking. 

“Hm, maybe this will work…” you quietly mumble to yourself.

You tried the piece of clothing on, carefully examining your reflection in the full-length mirror. The hem of the skirt falls right above your mid-thigh, too high for your usual comfort but for the sake of dressing up for a nightclub — there was no problem. The dress was snug, hugging your body so that it accentuates your curves.

The dress was plain white and was relatively simple. You don't really know what people usually wear for nightclubs but you were certain that dresses were a part of the code. 

You looked for your black three-inch heel that you last wore during your highschool graduation, slipping it in carefully. Doing a little bit of makeup and applying a thin layer of lip gloss, you grabbed a purse and walked out of your room. 

“May, please don't wait for me, okay?” you say after walking past her. 

“W-Wait, I'm supposed to–”

“It's okay. I'll be okay.”

“She's not gonna be okay!” Armaros declares, kneeling on one knee before Archangel Michael – the protector and the spiritual warrior, as he mentions Y/n's recent mischiefs.

After you've been to the nightclub the first day, you've never stopped. You became addicted. 

Sometimes you don't even tell May that you're going out, you just sneak out of the window and let May worry about you. You've happened to know how to drink as you get wasted every single night, hanging around with people that you don't know, people that are a bad influence on your good side. These past few days had you acting up like you’ve never before. You longed for alcohol and the feeling of it numbing your nerves, and there’s not a day where you didn’t get drunk.

Armaros’ power wasn't enough to stop you. Every single day he's been drying his best to send signals, to make you feel certain ways and speak to your consciousness that what you are doing is by far dangerous and wrong. But you never listened. 

You've skipped church, stopped talking to God, ignoring your parents’ phone calls, not doing your homework just because you're busy either getting drunk or making out with someone at the club. It's like you have been addicted to misbehaving. 

But for you, you thought you’re doing the right thing. 

“Armaros, are you doubting your powers?” Archangel Michael replies, running his fingertips along the sharp blade of his sword. 

“N-No, but, nothing seems to work. She's been ignoring my calls for almost two weeks. I just want the best for her.” Armaros’ voice fades at the end of his sentence. He was speaking with such sincerity because he really cares for Y/n. He truly loves her. “Why is she doing this?” He asks for help.

“Because, my dear, she's trying to prove something she's not for other people.”

“What?” 

Archangel Michael laughs quietly, staring at him endearingly. He points his sword at him, “She obviously tries to be immoral to fit in. She's rarely praying to God like she used to, rarely respecting the people around her. Ever since humans bullied Y/n for being herself – she starts to change. But the question is…”

He walks around Armaros, his eyes never leaving his. “Is this making her happy?” 

Armaros lowers his head and shakes his head. “I don’t know.” 

The Archangel grins and returns his sword back on the scabbard attached to his belt. 

“If I can't warn her to stop, then who else can?” The angel asks. 

Michael lifts an eyebrow up, crossing his arms together as he stands right in front of him. His mouth draws into a slow smirk, a hint of playfulness in his eyes as if a lightbulb appeared on top of his head. 

“You wanna have some fun, Armaros?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Stand up, stand up.” Armaros quickly obeys his superior’s command. The Archangel places a hand on his right shoulder, preparing to speak. 

“I have an idea. We call Jeon Jungkook up and–” 

“No! Absolutely not! I will not allow Y/n to come face to face with the son of Lucifer!” Armaros bellows, instinctively pushes Michael's hand away from him. 

“Armaros! It's just an idea!” Michael chuckles, spreading his arms to the side as he shakes his head. “And besides, I have to ask permission from our Highness anyway.” 

“And what will he do? Taunt her? Provoke Y/n to be more sinful?” Y/n's guardian angel asks, referring to Jungkook. “We both know how manipulative and cunning he can be!”

“No, no. We'll make a deal with him, of course! No devil will do anything without receiving something in return.” 

“This idea of yours, not to be rude, but is really out of this world.”

Archangel Michael snorts from the out of the blue pun. 

“Do not be afraid. If our Lord agrees to our plan, I'll be watching. I always will. Give me your trust, Armaros.”

Armaros sighs deeply, yet smiles up at him right after. “Okay, I trust you.” 

“May, stop it,” you mutter angrily, pulling your arm away from her hold. May tries to block your way from going outside the house but you abruptly push her to the side. 

“Y/n! Your mom told you that–” 

“Told me what?! That I’m being independent? Unruly? That I should just stay home? I don’t give a fuck anymore, May. I’d rather hang out with friends than stay here and do nothing!” You bark at her. She was smaller than you and you were definitely giving off that intimidating vibes that you wanted to show. She isn’t the one wearing the pants in this house. You are. 

“Y/n, I will not tolerate this behavior!” May snaps, eyes glaring at you with her hands balled up into fists on her sides. 

Rolling your eyes, you let out a sour chuckle, “You sound like my mom.” 

May sighs deeply, the tiredness in her voice evident, “I’m just trying to keep you safe, Y/n. Just listen to me.” 

“I’m an adult. I can keep myself safe. Now, let me go and don’t wait for me.” 

“Y/n!” 

“Bye May! Have a nice sleep!” 

“Y/n! Where the fuck are you?!” Emilia, one of the new friends you've met no longer than three days ago shouts through the phone as loud, blazing music muffled her voice. “Sophia and I are waiting for you! Get your ass over here!”

“I'm almost there, save me a drink already!” you giggle, looking out from the taxi’s window. 

Sophia snatches the phone out of Emilia’s hand to speak to you, “Y/n, you still remember the bet we made, right?” 

“Of course! It's not a huge deal, c'mon now.” You roll your eyes, faking a laugh. 

“We'll see!” Emilia giggles. 

The driver drops you in front of the nightclub and you throw him a couple of dollars. Stepping out of the car, your high heels clicking on the cement. Upon entering the place, you were immediately greeted with your friends. They were both wearing a tight dress – glittery red and silver – whilst you wore a black one that reached down to your middle thigh. You bought the dress only a day ago, special thanks to your Amazon Prime account . 

“Hey! Here, drink this,” Sophia hands you a single malt whiskey and you swiftly drown it down your throat without any problem. You reminisce back to your first day where you can’t even take a sip of beer without gagging. Now look where you are. 

“Ahh fuck, that tastes good,” you mumble through gritted teeth. 

“Why are you late tonight, Y/n?” Emilia asks as she leads you to the bar to order more alcohol. Her high pitched voice mixing with the loud music,”You know it's always 9 PM. Sharp.” 

You breathe out heavily as you watch Sophia pour three shots of straight vodka into a shot glass. She distributes the beverage to the two of you. 

“Well, uh–” 

“What?” Emilia snaps.

“I couldn't find a goddamn cab, that's why!” you hide your falseness with laughter, hoping they won't sense your lie. 

“Alright anyway, let’s go get wasted and you, Y/n – will be our first player.” Emilia smirks as she crosses her arms together. She analyzes your body, eyeing you up and down. You didn’t like it, and you felt worried. 

Your eyebrows furrow, confused and slightly offended, “What, why me?” You take a sip of your newly-ordered beer, trying to get comfortable on the plush-covered stool. 

“Because,” Sophia answers for her, “we need to know your… capacities.” 

You snort, “Capacities of what? My capacity of having to get into a m-man’s bed? Pffft… easy!” 

Sophia’s forehead furrows, glancing at Emilia with a knowing look before focusing her attention back to you. “Sure. Anyway, let’s have fun first and then…” she leans closer to you, her face inches away from yours. You feel your face redden in embarrassment, “And then you can choose your man.” 

It wasn’t that bad. It isn’t bad dancing around the dance floor, beer in hand, as you danced all your worries away. Emilia and Sophia were out there – somewhere, but you didn’t care about them at this moment. You let your body go with the beat of the loud EDM music, holding your hands up in the air as you whipped your head left to right. You had a huge smile on your face, the alcohol kicking in like it was meant for your body to consume. 

Sweaty bodies were bumping each other from left and right, and you for sure stepped on someone’s toe with your pumps. Nevertheless, you didn’t care. You were having your fun. 

It was until the song changed from upbeat to a more sensual, heart-pumping song from the loud bass. As if there was a switch inside you, you turned into a sultry mess. 

Wasted. You were wasted like hell. 

Your eyes turn into little slits as you look around the dance floor to try and find someone to play with. Taking a huge sip of your drink, your throat burns yet you tried to ignore it. 

“Ah-hah!” you giggle, walking – or should we say, stumbling – towards a guy with black hair parted in the middle, nicely dressed in a black button up tucked in some skinny jeans. The man locks eyes with you, licking his plump lips as his eyes rake your body. 

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he smirks, making you blush in red as he holds your waist and tugs you closer to him. The song in the background was helping you a lot to get into that seductive, sexy mood that you planned to have. 

“Hey,” you smile up at him, “I’m Y/n.” 

“What a pretty name for a pretty lady.” He starts swaying your body to the beat, going along with you. “I’m Seokjin. Nice to meet you.” 

Seokjin tugs your body closer until he holds the back of your head with one hand, making you look deep into his dark eyes. “Y-You’re a new face,” you slur, “You don’t belong here.” 

Unexpectedly, your eyes grow big when Seokjin throws his head back as he laughs almost hysterically. “What?” you question. 

The man slightly leans down until his face draws near to yours, and you can immediately smell the alcohol in his breath. You didn’t judge though, you probably had beer-breath too. 

“Baby girl…” Seokjin suddenly speaks deeply, making your heart jump from the sudden change in his voice. There was a sultry look in his eyes that made it hard for you to keep eye contact. “Baby it’s you who doesn’t seem to belong. You don’t know who I am.” 

“Well y-you don’t know me e-either!” You try to retaliate, although it was messed up with your embarrassing stuttering.  

“You really wanna know?” he whispers, his lips right against your lips, almost touching yours. You couldn’t breathe properly, wanting to pull away but his intoxicating scent was forcing you to him. 

You nod your head, not trusting your voice. 

“I own this place, baby.” 

You almost tossed your cup right across the room from his sudden confession, totally not expecting such a young-looking man to own such a place like this. Your eyes expand, body staying still. 

’Wait! Be sexy… be sexy…’ you thought to yourself after an awkward five seconds of silence. 

You decide to chuckle, biting your bottom lip slowly as you draw yourself nearer to him. He lifts a brow up in surprise, wrapping his arms around your hips and he closes the distance between the two of you. 

“Really? Well then,” you mutter, “I want you to own me too.” 

“Oh, finally. Someone straightforward.” 

“Well I – oh!” Seokjin takes you by surprise when he quickly tugs your arm and leads you to the second floor of the club. You haven’t been in this area before, looking so luxurious and well decorated. Although what shocks you is the series of doors that passes through a long, wide hallway. 

“Seok...Seokjin,” you whisper, but he looks at you with a smirk, a playful glint in his eyes. 

“C’mon baby,” he opens a door and walks you inside, locking it behind him. “Let’s have a little fun.” 

Let’s have a little fun. 

Yeah. I should. 

This is fun, right? 

Before you can even process things, Seokjin shoves your body to a wall as his hands start to wander down your sides. With flushed cheeks, you look at him like you’ve just seen a ghost but he clearly doesn’t mind, grinding his hips into yours. 

“Mmm, what a cute babe I have in front of me,” he groans, leaning forward to pepper wet, gentle kisses all over your neck and down to your shoulders. 

Something feels off. 

“Y/n, right?” he asks, his forehead furrows and you nod. “Can I kiss you?”

Your heart starts to rapidly pump inside your chest, feeling as if it’ll burst at any minute. An uncomfortable feeling starts to overwhelm your system, sensing your palms getting sweaty. You can’t look at his eyes, looking anywhere but him. 

“Uh, o-okay,” you straighten your back as you try your best to look confident. 

This is the perfect opportunity to tell your friends. Having sex with someone like him will absolutely impress Emilia and Sophia. 

Seokjin chuckles, shrugging, “Alright then.” And without any warning, he throws you on the bed and he quickly hovers above your body. 

“Mmph–!” he immediately presses his lips into yours before you can even react to everything that had just happened. He caresses your cheeks with both hands, his lips moving softly with yours. You try your best to keep up with him and his pace, but you can’t. There was something stopping you from giving him your all. Seokjin grunts nevertheless, humping you. 

Seokjin’s right hand snakes down to grab the hem of your dress as he teasingly pulls the fabric up, then lets it snap back down. There was a weird feeling inside your stomach, and it did not feel good at all. 

His hand slowly starts creeping up your leg, and that’s where you couldn’t hold it back. 

“Mmm, n-no,” you mewl, pushing him away from you. Seokjin stares down at you with a frown, head tilted to the side. 

“Y/n?” 

Rapid heart rate, the back of your neck sweating, and chills all over your body occur all at the same time. You were panicking. 

“I-I…” immediately you stand up from the bed, hiking your stupid short dress down as much as you can. “S-Sorry,” furiously shaking your head from side to side, you stumble your way to the door. 

“Y/n, wait!” Seokjin yells, confused yet he felt sorry at the same time. “Let’s talk about it!” 

“No,” you whisper. You can’t do this anymore. There was no energy left in your body to talk, to process what just happened, to stand in this fucking club. Home. All you were thinking about was going home. 

You twist the doorknob open, trying to catch your breath as much as you can but you feel like you were going to pass out any minute. Making your way down the stairs, you run as fast as you can towards the exit of the nightclub yet a person catches your arm. 

“Y/n!” Your eyes widen when Emilia and Sophia stop you, observing your state. “What’s wrong with you?” 

“No…” you breathe tirelessly, “c-can’t do it…” 

“You failed?” Emilia snaps as she leans her body on one hip, resting her hands there. She looks at you with disgust, “But we saw the guy that you’re with! He was hot!” 

Sophia snorts, smirking as she stares at you sourly, “Proves our point. You’re nothing, Y/n. You had such an easy job, the guy’s already all over you and you just had to throw him? Where is he, let me get with him myself.” Sophia struts away, heels clicking as she flips her long hair over her shoulder, leaving you with Emilia. 

“What can I say, Y/n,” she smiles menacingly, the corners of her eyes crinkling, “You can never be like us.” 

Your whole body felt heavy, heavy like you were carrying a boulder behind your back. This isn’t what you had planned at all, everything was going so well until this! Your eyes started welling up with tears, blurring your sight. You had to go. 

Without saying a word, you quickly run away to the exit, ignoring Emilia’s insensitive laugh. 

What went wrong? Why did you feel that way? Negative thoughts were clouding your mind as you cried and cried to your poor, soaked pillow. 

Maybe you are just not enough. Perhaps you’re not meant to be like this. 

It was fun the first time around, and you were actually enjoying yourself. But the days passed and you sadly weren't doing this for your own pleasure anymore, but for the validation of other people. 

You should’ve stopped Seokjin from touching you when it clearly made you uncomfortable. There was a line and he crossed it, but you erased that line so you can finally say that you’ve slept with someone. But you guessed it wasn’t that easy. 

Grabbing your phone, you ignored all of the rude messages Emilia has sent you, blocking her and Sophia’s number. You turned off your phone, throwing it somewhere on the ground without care before you switched off your lamp. There was never a time that you’ve cried yourself to sleep, but tonight was your first. 

“And what do I get in return for this deal?” Jeon Jungkook purrs with a low, dark tone, crossing his legs together as he sits on his father’s fire-blazing throne. Even though he has his own throne for himself, thrones on fire were way cooler. He scans the frightened angel from head to toe through the strands that fell in front of his eyes. 

“The A-Archangel says you will obtain a soul. A soul that is longing for hell.” Armaros stutters as he tries to keep eye contact with the devil’s hard glare. 

Jungkook chuckles, hanging his head low. “You mean to tell me…” he starts to stand up and walks towards the angel. Armaros tries his best to keep his guard up and stand as tall as possible. 

Jungkook circles around him, arms crossed while his right hand plays with his bottom lip, “That I should convince this little girl to prevent doing bad, bad things to stop her from going to hell?” He laughs hysterically. “That’s quite… an unnatural job for a devil, isn’t it? It’s completely the opposite of what i’m supposed to do. Tell Michael that his plan is utter bullshit.”

Armaros takes a deep sigh, closing his eyes for a brief second before replying. “Firstly, Y/n is not a little girl. And second, this job is easy. You have the skill to persuade humans to sin – what’s hard with doing the opposite? Besides, you’ll obtain a soul either way.” 

His words made Jungkook ponder and deliberate with himself. He stops in front of Armaros and shows him his signature imposing smile. “I can have my way with the girl, right?” He bites his lip, “Anyway I want?” 

This made Armaros’ eyes go wide, mouth opening but no words seem to come out properly, “I-I… w-well, um… yes? Yes? P-Perhaps? Just don’t do anything bad to her.” 

Jungkook scoffs, running his long tongue over his teeth as he smirks, “Define bad, Mr. Angel.” 

“You know… hurt her.” He gulps.

The devil squints his eyes, absolutely loving Armaros’ reactions. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not gonna kill her, if that’s what you mean.” 

“I’m done with this conversation.” Armaros quickly chirps as he unfolds his large, white wings. “Remember what your main goal is, Jungkook. I’m counting on you.” 

Jungkook stops him before he flies back up. “Armaros…” he says, dragging his name long in his tongue. Armaros looks at him, eyes impatient, arms crossed together. 

“You know I’m a devil, right?” 

The angel chuckles, scoffing, “Oh, I know that alright.” He scorns, eyeing Jungkook up and down. Although the devil in front of him looks intimidating and his eyes are jet black, Armaros keeps his calm. “I’m only following orders. I didn’t agree with The Archangel in the first place.” 

“Do you know what devils do to… humans?” 

Armaros nods fully. 

“And what I might do to… that precious little girl?” Jungkook growls deeply, walking closer to him. He tilts his head down, looking at him through his lashes, “There’s a huge chance that I might not control myself when I see her.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Suddenly, black smoke appears from Jungkook’s right hand, summoning something beside him. The smoke appears to subside and at once, Y/n’s appearance can be seen through the thin air. Jungkook rests his hips on one side, twirling his hand so that her image spins around. 

“This is Y/n, right?” Jungkook studies your face, watching you read a book inside your room. “I’ve never seen someone so beautiful before.” 

“Jeon Jungkook!” Armaros bellows, his tone loud yet sprinkled with fear. 

“I’m just saying, Angel. You can’t stop me from trying to do devilish things to her.” Jungkook smirks, prodding his tongue on the inside of his cheek. “You might have to reconsider this deal of yours if you don’t want me to have my way with that pretty little girl,” He taunts, already warning Armaros.

“Jungkook,” Armaros’ nerves seem to heat up, slowly getting irritated although he tries to calm himself. He looks down, shaking his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “There’s no point in doing that. You think she wants to have an affair with someone like you?” 

The devil laughs loudly as he twirls his hand until your image disappears. This conversation further proves Jungkook’s argument that angels are actually dumber than they realize. 

“If you want me to help you, I will have my way with her. My job, my rules. Understand?”

Armaros feels defeated, but he can’t say anything but nod and agree to him. He can’t fight him anyway. Jungkook dismisses him, and with that, the angel ascends back up to earth. 

Jungkook can’t wait to have his fun. 

~

Prancing around, making friends, getting to know each other – Jungkook doesn’t want to do that. Instead, he’s very straightforward, saying words that he probably shouldn’t, he likes to say what he thinks no matter how bad it’ll probably hurt. 

That’s what he plans to do with you. 

If he gets his point clear, make you frightened, scare the shit out of you, then the job would be complete. 

Easy! 

You were currently on your laptop, scrolling through your pinterest tabs until you hear loud and frantic knocks on your door. “Y/n!” May shrieks, her voice quivering. “Someone’s at the door!” 

Oh no, you thought. 

Immediately hopping out of bed, you went out to see who it was with May following behind you. You peak out through the windows and suddenly, you inhale sharply from the man that you see. 

He was unfamiliar. Thankfully, it wasn’t Seokjin or Sophia nor Emilia, but rather tall, might you say handsome looking man waiting outside your doorstep. He was dressed in all black, his hair covering his eyes. 

“Do you know him?” May asks quietly. You shake your head slowly, “N-No.” 

“Y/n… I think you should just leave him.” 

“May, I can handle it. You can go now.” You say softly to her. 

“Are you sure—”

“Yes.” You spat a little harshly, blazing your eyes at her. May nods, sighing as she walks away to her room. 

Gathering the courage to open the door, you took a deep inhale and exhale, calming your nerves. 

Once you open the door, your eyes immediately fly to his dark ones. Your whole body suddenly shivers, the air around the place somewhat getting cold as if it was winter. 

You can't take your eyes off of the man. You have never met him before but it felt like you've known him for too long. There was a strange aura surrounding the two of you that you can't explain. 

“Hello.” He speaks first, giving you a sly smile. 

His voice. You've never heard such a dark and menacing timbre before. 

“Hi,” you gulp, “Who are you?” 

“May I come in?” Jungkook snaps, ignoring your question. He doesn't want to waste any time, that's for sure. 

You furrow your brows as you shake your head, “Answer my question first.” You blurt, blocking the entrance by placing your hands on either side of the doorway. 

“Hm,” Jungkook slowly shows you a deadly smirk, eyeing your body up and down. “You really wanna know?” 

What kind of a question is that? 

You quickly got annoyed, looking at him with a scorn. “Obviously!”

Feisty, Jungkook thought. 

“I'm the devil.”

There was a long pause, silence filling the air. This man is too handsome to be this dumb. You laugh hysterically, bending over as you hold your aching stomach. “A-Are you… oh my god… please tell me you're fucking joking!” you say with creased eyes. 

Jungkook already expected this reaction, and he only rolls his eyes without you noticing. 

“Mhm. You don't believe me?” he slowly pronounces his words, voice deep and sinister. 

“Nah,” you shake your head, giggling. 

“Aren't you religious?” Jungkook pushes you to the side without hesitation and enters, your eyes expanding slowly as his body suddenly comes in contact with yours. “Don't you believe in your God? You believe in angels, right?” He backs your body up and shuts the door loudly behind him. 

You felt a series of chills erupt from your system, his gaze locked on yours. You wanted to look away from his intimidating gaze, but you can't, for some strange reason. “Huh, Y/n?”

You gasp. “Wait, h-how do you know my name!?” 

Jungkook smirks at you, tilting his head to the side as he ignores your question again. 

Your body seems to move by itself, like you can't control your own limbs. The air thickens around the two of you as you feel your body submit to the man in front of you. 

Sighing, with a shaky voice you answer. “I do. I do believe in them.”

Although what shocks you is the way his eyes suddenly turn a bright shade of red. From deep black to red, his irises glow. 

“What the fuck–” you quickly back away, body shivering in fear until your back hits a wall. You rub your eyes, trying to see if your mind was only playing tricks with you. 

Jungkook grins and chuckles darkly, clicking his tongue. “Then…” he draws, walking closer to your frightened figure, “Can this convince you enough?” 

“S-Stop… stop playing games with me!” you whimper, feeling your palms get sweaty. “Your eyes are red!” 

“Hmm, I wonder why,” Jungkook snarls, forehead creasing, “Maybe because I'm the fucking devil?” 

And in a flash, Jungkook’s appearance changes from a tall, handsome boy into a dark red figure. Black, bat-like wings sprout from his back, long horns appearing from his forehead, a spear-like tail behind him. His lips and the area around his eyes were tinted in black while his fingers grew longer, sharper. 

You almost fainted then and there. 

“Oh— p-please,” your eyes turn watery as tears start to fall down your cheek, lifting your hands up to your mouth in shock, “please d-don't kill me!” Shutting your eyes to avoid the frightening image in front of you, your knees drop down to the floor with a loud thud. “I'm sorry, please f-forgive me! Don't k-kill me! Please!” 

“Oh, what a cute pretty girl you are,” the devil grins, his voice more gravelly now. He looks down at your frail self, amused. “I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to teach you a lesson.” 

You start to sob as your body shakes, “No! Please d-don't…”  

“Do you believe me now?”

“Yes! Yes I do!” you quickly reply, voice cracking. “I’m sorry s-sir, don’t hurt me!” 

Jungkook, satisfied with your reaction, morphs back to his normal human look within a few seconds. “Look at me.”

Slowly, afraid to anger the devil in front of you, you obey his words. You sigh in relief when he finally looks normal again, but you can't look at him the same way. 

“Stand up.”

You do so with wobbly legs. You felt so weak with your energy quickly drained so quickly. Wiping your tear-stained cheeks, you try your best to keep your composure. 

“Anyway, I'm Jungkook,” he gives you an award-winning smile, “I'm sent here to supposedly warn you from doing bad things.” He cringes, shaking his head. “Which, honestly speaking, I think is atrocious.”

He scans your body, biting his lip right after. “A good looking girl like you should have her fun.” 

You try to regain your senses back. A devil — a real devil appeared right in front of you. You can't seem to shake the thought away while he’s there looking so handsome in his human form. 

With a shaky breath, you ask him, “J-Jungkook? I'm really sorry. I don't know what I'm doing.” 

He snorts. Brushing his black hair away from his face. “Wrong. You know what you're doing.” 

“W-What?” 

Something in the air changes when Jungkook snaps his fingers. A thick, black smoke appears, capsuling the both of you in. “What is this?!” you question, terror overtaking your face. You watch your surroundings getting blurry, blackness covering the area. 

“Oh nothing,” he gives you a lopsided grin, “just making sure that your little angels can't see us.” 

Jungkook's eyes shine and his pupils enlarge, smiling as you notice how his teeth grow sharper. There were veins popping out in his neck, grimacing at you in pure excitement.  

“We can't afford your poor, guardian angel to stop us now, can't we? I don't want him to see us…playing.” 

“Playing?!” You gasp, eyes expanding in shock.. 

“Yes, baby. Angels are so fucking dumb, aren't they? Asking a devil to do their own work? Isn't that pathetic.”

You were locked to him like a magnet as your body seems to fill with utter desire in such a quick time. 

Was he doing something to you?!

A series of pleasurable chills erupt from your body, mouth getting dry as you look up at Jungkook with big eyes. 

His hand suddenly touches your bare arm, making you silently mewl from his chilling touch. He smirks at your reaction, “How dumb of them to trust the son of Lucifer himself.”

“Y-You… you're…” your voice fades, trying to process his words. 

“Mhm. Aren't you excited to play with me?” 

Maybe he's doing tricks to your mind, controlling your body – or maybe you’re just fucked up. Either way, you want him. 

You lust for him. 

“Yes.”

Jungkook draws his lower lip between his teeth, his hands finding its way to your waist, holding you firmly until he unexpectedly pulls you to his body. He lifts a single eyebrow up, “Really?” 

Your heartbeat quickens. 

“I've… I’ve never been more sure.” Words seem to spill out of your mouth without your consent, as if it wasn’t you who’s speaking. But you don’t try to take your words back.  

Jungkook laughs and starts to lift you up without struggle, finding his way to your bedroom while the smoke follows the two of you. “Bad, bad girl you are.” He lowers you down on the mattress, sending you a seductive wink, “I'm so fucking proud.” 

He preps himself on his knees, capturing your thighs in between. His eyes run down your body, chills running down your spine from how hot he looks. His figure was so big and muscular, making you feel like he can destroy your frail self. 

“Look at this, you look so fucking delicious baby.” 

His hand suddenly flies down to your armpits, roughly handling you as he carries you up as he sits down on the bed, his back pressed against the headboard, as he places you in between his legs. 

You hold back a whimper as he pushes your body closer to him. Hearing him growl deeply made your cunt throb, feeling a strange wet feeling down there. 

“Demons can't help humans,” he mutters lowly, his lips right against the shell of your ear. “They want you to sin and sin and sin until the day you fucking die.” 

His hands play with your shirt until in a quick flash, he rips the cotton material in half, your body shivering as it has been exposed to the cold air. “Ohh,” you whimper, covering your body with your arms. 

“Nu-uh,” Jungkook grins behind you, “Don't do that, baby.” He leans down and starts pressing wet and sloppy kisses all over your shoulders, running his mouth up to your neck. “Don't try to hide away from me.”

He sucks on the soft skin of your neck, his big dick throbbing in his pants from the way you were constantly squirming. You were so sensitive, and it made him so horny. He hums, marking your skin in bright red and purple bruises. 

“Ahh, Jungkook,” you moan, throwing your head back until it rests right against his shoulder. 

His hands suddenly fly to your breasts, his long and slender fingers pinching and twisting your hardened nipples. You bite your bottom lip as you can't seem to open your eyes from the feeling. It was until Jungkook suddenly digs his nails into your nipples, pinching them roughly that made you jolt right up. 

“Oh, t-that hurts,” you cry, the stinging feeling of his sharp nails pinching your buds. Jungkook watches your face contort, digging his nails even harder. He feels your body twitch, hearing your gentle whines and mewls. 

“Ohhh you don't like it baby, does it hurt too much for your sensitive, precious body?” he mocks a concerned tone. “Hm?” 

He was playing games with you, that's for sure. You nod your head up and down, trying to push his hands away. “Mhm…” 

Thankfully, he does stop but he quickly cups your breasts with both hands. He feels your rock-hard nipples pushing against his rough palms, kneading your boobs until he finally lets go. 

“Take these off,” he instructs you to pull your shorts down, and you do so. With trembling hands, you swiftly tug them off of your legs. 

“Mmm, fuck,” he grunts behind you, his right hand lowering down from your stomach until it reaches the destination right against your clothed pussy. His fingers slowly trace down your slick, feeling how wet you are through your panties. 

He smirks cockily, “You're fucking drenched, baby. Are you this horny?” he rubs your clit in slow, circular motions with just the right amount of pressure with the tips of his two fingers, your legs shivering. “Want something to stuff that little hole of yours?” 

He pulls your underwear down to your thighs, and you instantly shake it off with your legs. Jungkook pushes your legs apart, forcing your knees up with your feet flat on the mattress. Your cunt flutters around air from the exposure. You whine when his left arm possessively wraps around your stomach, his biceps flexing when he holds you tightly. 

“Stay fucking still,” he growls, his warm hand cupping your bare cunt. He chuckles, prodding his tongue against his cheek as he plays with your folds. He uses two slender fingers to spread your labia apart and you can feel your glistening arousal drip from your hole down to your ass. 

Jungkook hums in satisfaction, spreading your lips wider, making you emit a moan. “Jungkook—”

“No. I want you to call me something…” he elongates the pause in his sentence to suddenly insert the tip of his middle finger in your pussy, causing you to jump. “Something else, baby.” 

“Ah-ahh, what?” your legs couldn't stop trembling as he pushes his finger deeper, your walls sucking it in deliciously. 

You can feel him smirk against the skin of your neck, he snickers, “Starts with the letter D.” 

Your eyes squint in confusion, tilting your head up to look at him. Jungkook, with his glowing red eyes, scans your face with a quirked eyebrow expectantly. 

“Devil?” 

Jungkook scoffs loudly and instantly pushes the rest of his finger in your cunt, immediately pumping in and out at a rapid pace. Your hands quickly hold onto his arm that was wrapped around you, mouth agape from the sudden thrusts. “Ohhh!” your body shakes, leaning your head against him. Electric waves of pleasure run through your body, being new to the sensation. 

He growls as he removes his finger out to slap your pussy harshly, hitting your sensitive clit. “Wrong.” 

“Oww…” you mewl, your hips bucking up from the sting. He does this again, and again, and again, making your eyes watery. He tightens his hold on you, stopping you from squirming too much. 

“Daddy.” He purrs. 

Your body instantly feel a series of shivers. 

“Call me daddy.” Jungkook bites your neck roughly while he inserts his digits back, this time using his middle and ring finger. You hiss in pleasure, eyes tempting to roll back when he brushes the sponge-like texture inside your pussy. 

“Shit, right there daddy,” you curse, rolling your hips against his hand for more. “Right there!” 

Jungkook feels his cock harden even more, precum dripping down his tip as it twitches against his clothes. The way you pronounce that certain word drove him crazy. Jungkook loves how your body easily crumbles beneath him as you allow him to have all the control. He pounds your pussy faster with his hand, putting his bicep to good use. 

You were about to cum, the feeling of a tightness inside your tummy, a ball about to burst at any second. You warn Jungkook, “Daddy, i-i think… I think I'm gonna c-cum,” you sob. 

“I know.” He says simply, fucking you harder. Suddenly, he pushes his index finger in, three digits stretching your walls out. You cry loudly, thrashing around him as high-pitched moans carelessly leave your mouth. “Shiiiiit, d-daddy!” 

“Need to stretch this little pussy out for my cock” he purrs, “cuz’ we don’t want that tiny hole of yours to split into two, right baby?” 

Your toes curl, nails digging into the skin of his arm as you fail to warn him that you're gonna cum any second now. Although he can feel the way your pussy was pulsing around his long fingers. He angled his hand until your clit was brushing against his palm, “Daddy! Ohh fuck, just l-like that!”

Until it all stops. 

All of the pleasure stops when Jungkook pulls his fingers out. 

“Fuuuuuuuck!” you yell, never been more frustrated before as he denies your orgasm. You were about to cum so hard. Your legs shake uncontrollably, scratching his arms as your body shudders. Your poor cunt pulsates rapidly from the sour loss. You were a whimpering, sobbing mess. 

Laughing dryly behind you was Jungkook, licking his fingers clean as he watches your dignity wash away right in front of his eyes. 

“Fuck you,” you scowl, pushing away his arms and turning to face him. “Fuck. You.” 

But he wasn't bothered at all, of course. He was the devil after all. He had no remorse.

Before you know it, Jungkook wraps his hand around your throat and swiftly pulls you close to his face. You gulp, terrified from the intimidating look in his eyes. 

Jungkook thinks that he can easily kill you then and there. If it were a different person, he wouldn't hesitate to snap their neck like a stick. Usually he would feel tempted to physically hurt a person in this kind of situation. But no. He likes you. He likes you too much to kill.

“Take my cock out.”

Even though you hate him for denying your orgasm so brutally like that, you nod your head. Jungkook removes his shirt as you scoot down. You were careful to unbutton his pants, heart rate going faster from the thought of seeing his cock right in front of your face. By the look of the large tent evident, he was gonna be huge. Jungkook watches you with heavy eyes, running his hand through your hair softly. 

You pull the garment down and your mouth visibly waters from the sight. The outline of his cock was evident from his briefs, long and thick and was certainly rock hard. You were so afraid to even touch it as you let your hands sit right on his thighs. 

“Haven't done this before?” he asks, rubbing your cheek with one hand. You shake your head, afraid to look at his glaring eyes. 

Jungkook chortles, quickly pulling his underwear down by himself.

His cock immediately springs out and rests on his abdomen. With wide, surprised eyes, you notice his red tip leaking so much precum, dripping down his abs. You involuntarily whine and wiggle your hips in need, your wetness dripping down your thigh. 

“Take it in your mouth.” He orders, voice strict and demanding. 

“But—” 

“Did I stutter?” 

“No daddy.” You whisper, looking away and finally gathering the courage to wrap your hands around his girth. You clench your thighs together when you feel him against your palm – warm and heavy, yet the skin was soft at the same time. When you stroke his shaft up and down watching how his precum pours down to your hands, providing you lubrication as it coats his cock. 

Jungkook throws his head back as he smiles down at you, feeling so good. He bucks his hips up repeatedly, meeting your timid strokes. 

His patience runs out and slaps your hand away, gripping his cock tightly. Suddenly, he slaps his dick on your cheek, making lewd and wet sounds. “Open your fuckin’ mouth.” 

Obeying his command, you wrap your lips around his leaking tip. You taste the saltiness of his seed on your tongue, trying your best to take more of him. His thick girth was making it hard for you as your jaw immediately feels sore. 

His hand flies to grip your hair, making you whine around his cock, causing vibrations. “Look at that pretty little mouth tryna’ take this cock,” he smirks, “Go deeper baby. Gag around my cock if you don't wanna be punished.” 

Your hips swivel in need from his words, pussy soaking like a river. You slack your jaw as you sink down on his cock, trying to ignore the harsh gags when his tip hits the back of your throat. Jungkook growls loudly above you, seeing that the corners of your mouth were dripping in saliva. 

He uses both of his hands to force you deeper. Your eyes start to water when you swallow just half of his big dick, already being too much for you. The harsh and wet gagging sounds were music to Jungkook's ear, loving to see you struggle. “Mhm, fuck yes,” he grunts, “Choke on that big dick.” 

He keeps you down there, feeling sinister as his devilish instincts get the best of him. He ignores your cries and pleads, only focusing on the feeling of the sweet vibrations whenever you moaned around him. Or whenever your throat closes around his shaft when you choked, it was all too good for him. 

You immediately tapped on his thighs furiously when you can't take it anymore, but what did he do? He starts fucking your mouth with sharp thrusts of his hips. You whimper, closing your eyes tight as your nails dig into the skin of his thighs. He grabs you by your head as he uses your poor mouth for pleasure. 

Trying to breathe through your nose, you ignore the burning sensation in your mouth yet it feels too good. “Ahhhh holy fucking shit,” he grunts, feeling your throat tighten, “Look at that – fuck. Bad little girl aren't you? Mhm? You're my bad, naughty girl.” Jungkook mocks, watching the stream of tears drip down your cheeks. 

Finally, he pulled out and there were thick strings of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. He groans loudly, his cock twitching as it lays back on his stomach. 

“Ohh, c'mere baby girl, come here.” Jungkook whispers and pulls your body close to him. You straddle his lap, feeling his cock beneath your folds that made you hiss. He wraps his strong arms around you, his face inches close to yours. You try not to be intimidated by his menacing eyes, but he notices this and clutches your throat with one hand, squeezing it again that made you inhale sharply. Jungkook sees your pout, your lips bruised from your numerous bites, and he chuckles. 

He tugs you until his lips are right upon your ear. “You wanna cum, baby?” 

Your body shivers from how deep and alluring his voice was, although you nod your head. “Please, daddy.” 

“Oh but do you deserve it? Do you even deserve a cock like mine?” 

You hate how frustrated he can make you. You punch your hands down on his chest, whining, “I-I do…” 

Jungkook quirks a brow up, immediately forcing your hands behind your back. He roughly grasps your wrists together with one hand, surely leaving a red bruise. He bites his lip, “You do?” He swiftly lands a spank on your right ass cheek, making you moan. “Then sink down on my cock.” 

With a puff of your breath, Jungkook helps you align his dick to your sopping entrance. You couldn’t breathe properly, anticipating what will happen as soon as you slowly sink yourself on his thick tip. 

“Ohhh daddy!” Your walls stretch out as you take his tip in, making you feel a harsh, stinging sensation as he rips your walls. If it wasn’t with his impressive girth, it probably wouldn’t hurt as much. Jungkook grunts, his cock throbbing from the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him. 

“Fuck yeah,” he watches your pussy take him further, your juices coating his shaft. He tightens his hold on your wrists, slightly bucking his hips up. Jungkook lands another hard, loud spank. 

“Daddy you're so b-big,” you moan, almost halfway down his dick but you can't take more of him anymore. Jungkook gets turned on from the sweet tone of your voice, the thought of tainting such a girl like you made him chuckle. 

Jungkook feeds himself from the idea of corrupting you, letting you know how it feels to truly rebel. Who the fuck cares about what your parents think? Humans are all going to die anyway, there’s nothing wrong with having a little fun. 

You start to bounce up and down slowly, your pussy rubbing against him, feeling the thick protruding veins upon your walls. You dig your nails onto your palm, eyes closed shut as you prop yourself up to your feet. 

“That's it, baby. Ride daddy's cock,” he insinuates, watching your face contort in pleasure. With your eyebrows knitted together, eyes shut and mouth wide open, Jungkook’s cock throbs inside of you.

“Look at that fucking face, cant take it?” he snickers. 

“I can, I can,” you pant tirelessly, legs getting sore. Your brows drew deeper as you concentrated on the feeling of his cock hitting your sensitive nerves so good, already so close to an orgasm from how big he is. 

But Jungkook wanted more. He wants it harder, rougher. He wants to shoot his hot cum so hard and deep inside your fresh womb, filling you up. He wants to wreck your body until you break. 

So he releases your hands free and instead grabs a hold of your waist firmly, keeping you still. He plants his feet on the bed and starts to thrust his hips up like crazy. 

Your jaw drops into an ‘o’ shape and you release a particular loud squeal. Your hands hold onto his broad shoulder, throwing your head back as he continues to drill your abused cunt. His balls slap against your ass, creating lewd slapping noises. 

“Dadddyyyyy!” you shriek, eyes expanding so wide from the unexpected bliss of electric currents shooting down your spine. You can't handle it, your orgasm snapping in a quick second. “I'm—!” 

Jungkook groans loudly when your pussy squirts your cum all over his dick and gushes all over his stomach. He fucks you through your mind-blowing orgasm, your eyes rolling back to your head as your legs shake from the unexpecting feeling. Your mind seems to cloud in lust as he doesn’t stop fucking you. 

“Shit,” he laughs, “look at this poor little girl.” Jungkook caresses your ass before he spanks it roughly, emitting a whimper from your mouth, kneading the bruised flesh right after. “Squirting all over daddy. You love my big cock so much, huh? You horny, desperate little slut.” 

Before you can even process what he just said, he flips you over until you lay down flat on your stomach. He hovers on top of you, keeping his dick in without pulling out. You yelp as he wraps his big hand around your throat, tightly squeezing your jugular without mercy. 

“A-ahhh oh—” you choke, letting your forehead down to rest on the sheets as he continues to pound you from behind. 

He had absolutely no mercy, using you as his little fucktoy for his pleasure, abusing your pussy like it was made for his demon cock. He chokes you harder, almost making you see stars. 

Your cunt throbs once again, signalling that another orgasm is coming near. “Ohhhh fuck fuck fuck fuck!” you moan, heavy puffs of breath coming out of your mouth every time he thrusts into you. 

Jungkook feels his nerves getting hotter and hotter, his cock aching to cum. He doesn't think of anything else but the way your walls clench so tightly around him. “Gonna break this motherfucking pussy of yours,” he growls, leaning down until his chest presses against your sweaty back. “I'm gonna fucking paint your walls with my cum, baby. You're gonna take all of it, you're gonna take all of daddy's cum in that tight cunt.”

Your legs squirm, hands closing into fists as you hit the bed over and over from how sensitive you become. Your hands claw the sheets tightly, back arching from the breathtaking pleasure. 

“Ahhhh daddy! Ohh my fucking— ahhh yes, yes yes!” your body crumbles, mouth wide open as you scream while you cum for the second time. Your pussy pulses so harshly around his dick, coating it with your juices, making it more wet for him. 

He groans, removing his hand from your throat and slaps your ass again. “Naughty little shit right here.” It was so messy, just how he likes it. His cum covered in your glistening arousal, fucking you through your high. 

He immediately flips you around again, making you face him. He smirks cockily from your flushed chest and face, noticing that you were having trouble opening your eyes. 

He leans down and rests his forearms beside your head, “Take it baby, take it.” he murmurs roughly, his balls getting heavier. “Take my fucking dick.”

Your legs never seem to stop quivering, everything around you seems blurry besides Jungkook's face. How does he still look so handsome and perfect? His black hair falls down his forehead, swaying with every hard thrust, his deep dimples peeking through when he bites his lower lip slowly while he savors the feeling of your warm, wet pussy. 

“Gonna cum in you baby,” he pants, holding your cheek in one hand. “Daddy’s gonna cum so fuckin’ hard for you.” You notice a dark, sinister forming his lips as he looks down at you. There it was again, that intimidating, almost teasing look. 

He growls roughly, hips staying still inside you as he dips down to gnaw at your shoulder. You hiss, whimpering when he sinks his teeth so harshly into your delicate skin, leaving an ugly mark. “Ah-ahh, daddy!” His cock spurts out warm strings of his seed, filling you up to the brim. 

“Mmm, mmm, fuck yeah,” he moans, “take it, Y/n.” 

When he pulls his cock out, his pupils enlarge as he sees your arousal dripping out of your cunt and onto your bed. He chuckles, stroking his cock a couple of times to milk himself furthermore, not wasting any of his sperm.

The two of you were breathless, breathing heavily. Your legs feel so sore and you can't feel them either, your ass stinging from his numerous rough spanks. 

“Clean yourself up, Y/n.” Jungkook suddenly throws you a wet towel, about to ask him where it came from, although he just stares at you blankly with a quirked brow. 

Gulping, you nod and start wiping yourself clean. 

~

He can't leave now. Not after all of this. 

There was something that attracted yourself to him. You can't seem to grasp what it is – but whenever Jungkook looks at you in the eyes, you feel like submitting. 

It was like your body doesn't belong to you anymore. He possesses your body now. 

“Crawl to me, my love.” He whispers, and you were easily drawn to his beautiful eyes. 

Still naked, you do as you're told and crawl towards the edge of the bed where he stands. He wears his pants, thankfully covering his goods. 

He sighs and softly caresses your cheek with a warm hand, making you flutter your eyes shut whilst leaning against his palm. He hums delightfully, smirking. 

“Surrender.” He purrs, eyes drooping down as he looks at you with such gentleness, almost with care. He leans down until your faces are mere inches away from each other. “Surrender to me, my love. And I’ll take you to somewhere you belong.”

Your eyes shimmer, batting your eyelashes as you gawk up at him with eagerness. “W-Where I belong?” you repeat in question.

“Yes, Y/n.” He smiles, showing you his perfect teeth. “Where no one will judge you, no one will criticize you for you. You can be whoever you want, you can do whatever you want. Isn’t that exciting, baby?”

Mouth getting dry, your nerves heat up once again, feeling nothing but anticipation. “Yes.”

Jungkook holds your face in two hands, compelling you to stare unswervingly at his red eyes. “Submit to me, Y/n, and you’ll never worry about this earth’s dreadful problems.” His voice gravelly yet dark, somehow different to his normal human speaking voice. 

You didn’t know what he really means by ‘submit’, or where he was supposed to take you. But your mind was telling you to go. Your consciousness speaks to you like someone was whispering in your ear what to do. You kneel before him, still keeping eye-contact. The air around the two of your shifts and it suddenly grows warm as your body starts to sweat.

“Where are…” your voice was breathy, “Where are you taking me?”

Jungkook starts to chuckle, brushing your hair back with his fingers. Suddenly, your heart races when he presses a tender, wet kiss on your forehead. Your eyes widen, heart beating out of your chest when he continues to kiss you down to the bridge of your nose, until it stops right upon your lips. He hovers his mouth right against yours, feeling his warm breath.

He whispers the words so ominously that goosebumps appear all over your arms and legs. “I’m gonna take you down to hell.” 

Jungkook watches your face go pale, all the blood leaving your face as you gaze at him with such big, surprised eyes. Without warning, he presses his lips against yours. You can’t keep up with him, his kiss rough and dominating. You whimper when his hand goes to wrap itself around your throat, pulling you closer. His tongue easily slips in your mouth, causing you to gasp. Jungkook smirks through the kiss as he controls the way your mouth moves. The two muscles dance together with such need and passion, hands getting sweaty. 

He bites your bottom lip, chewing on the soft flesh while he gently rolls it against his teeth. Jungkook growls, eyebrows furrowing. He can’t seem to get enough of you, wanting you all for himself. He’s addicted to you; your scent, your beautiful eyes, your body, he doesn’t want to leave this earth without you. 

He needs you down with him. 

Jungkook pulls out as he watches your flushed face, all out of breath. There was nothing else that you could do but whine about the loss of his lips. You were craving more of him. You pout, hoping that he’ll give in but Jungkook just shakes his head with a smirk. 

“Answer me, baby. Go down with me, and I’ll treat you so good.” He insinuates, “I’ll treat you like my own fucking queen. Don’t you want that?” 

You nod your head furiously, “I do want that,” you say softly. 

He clicks his tongue, “Tch, louder.” 

“I want it, please. Bring me with you.” Jungkook watches your pupils dilate, growing bigger as you speak. “Please.” 

Jungkook smiles. And within a flash, the black smoke that was encircling the two of you all this time thickens and starts to wash over the two of you. You cough uncontrollably yet Jungkook just stands there and watches. The smoke fills your lungs until you lose consciousness. 

~

Sounds of the crackling fire fills your eardrums, and your body tries to accommodate the scorching heat of your surroundings. 

Opening your eyes, you see that you’re nowhere in your room, or in the overworld. All that your eyes can see was miles and miles of dark red and black hills, huge torches of fire everywhere, scattered all over the place. There were girls and boys dressed in all black outfits, walking around the place with blank faces, eyes having stripped off of their emotions.

You look down on yourself and thankfully, you were wearing clothes. A tight red dress that hugs your body perfectly, enhancing your curves.

“Y/n.”

A soft voice calls out your name, and you whip around to see Jungkook in his demon form, smiling at you as he sits on his throne. You feel a warm, familiar feeling in your heart as if coming home and going to bed from a long trip. His blazing eyes lead you to a trance.

He beckons you to him for he lifts his right hand out to you. He eyes your body up and down, fixing his posture whilst he runs his tongue along his bottom lip. The way your hips gently sways as you make your way towards him – not losing eye contact – and how your irises burn in desire, it was all that Jungkook asks for.

Your legs move without your permission, leading you up the stone steps to his throne.

His hand was warm when you grasp it, although it was rough and almost hard unlike his human skin, you touch as if there was no difference. You weren’t afraid anymore. Jungkook signals you to sit on his lap, and you gladly obey. With legs on either side of his thigh, you straddle him.

“You’re mine, baby.” Jungkook snarls, “This is your place now.”

“I…” you speak for the first time, “I can’t see my friends and family anymore?”

He shakes his head no with a sly grin.

You exhale, a big smile painting your face. You’ve never felt so content and happy in your entire life.

“Then I love it here.”  

Jungkook makes sure that your angels can’t and won’t look for you anymore. He swears that he’ll protect you in every way possible, promising to shield you from anything that will hurt you. Jungkook looks at your beautiful red eyes, feeling your arms wrap around his neck as you pull him close. 

The last thing anyone should do is trust a devil — and that goes for your foolish angels. 

[animeomegas]

Could I please request how would the naruto omega boys act after having a nightmare? For example, how they would want comfort from their s/o, or how would they get that comfort if their significant other is away on a mission?🙏🏾🙏🏾

(Of course you can! I hope you enjoy it~)

Naruto –

Naruto gets quite sad after a nightmare. All his enthusiasm and joy for life gets sapped out of him until he’s just miserable. He feels awful and down and he really could do with some comfort, so if his alpha wasn’t already shaken awake by his nightmare induced flailing, he makes the decision to wake them up.

The best way to comfort Naruto is with some simple cuddling. Just hold him in your arms and tuck the blankets around him. Don’t push him to talk but listen attentively when he does (and he normally does). Just… being there for him goes a long way. No one was there for him when he had a nightmare when he was younger, and it really makes him feel better.

Of course, those abandonment issues mean that Naruto doesn’t like waking up alone after a nightmare, but he is used to it. At first, he always holds your pillow and breathe in your scent while he tries to fall back to sleep, but it never works. Naruto normally ends up wandering to the kitchen and getting something to drink or making some ramen to calm himself down, stewing somewhat in bitterness that he’s alone to deal with it. After his drink/snack, he does manage to fall asleep while holding your pillow, but he’d much rather you were there with him.

“I dreamt about, well, about when Neji died, but you were there too, and I know it’s stupid,” Naruto rearranged himself on your chest so he could look up at you. “But I was really scared that you were going to get hurt or something too… I’m glad you’re okay…”

Sasuke –

Sasuke has awful, awful nightmares. Mostly about the night his brother murdered his family or the day he killed his brother. He often wakes up disorientated, panicked and upset, his scent is normally bad enough to shock his alpha awake with him. But if for some reason they don’t wake up, Sasuke will never wake them, always trying to comfort himself, to his detriment.

The best way to comfort Sasuke is to make him feel safe. Sit behind him to cover his back while he stares at all the entrances and exits into the room, never box him in or restrain him, and on really bad nights, move him into his nest where he can more easily defend himself and feel a lot safer. When he calms down, don’t speak too much, he’s likely embarrassed enough already, just tuck him back into bed or into his nest and hold him at the back of his neck. The firm pressure puts him to sleep every time.

When Sasuke wakes up from a nightmare alone, it takes him a much longer amount of time to calm down. He throws himself out of bed and into the corner of the room (somewhere more easily defendable) and he just rides the panic for as long as it takes for him to be too exhausted to continue. Oftentimes, he falls asleep like that, jammed into the corner, neck bent at a funny angle. They are rough nights for him, and they happen far too often. He can normally keep the nightmares under wraps while on a mission, he never enters a deep sleep during missions so it isn’t hard to avoid them, but at home they always plague him. He doesn’t like it when his alpha is on a long mission, he doesn’t like it at all. He’ll try and get a mission of equal length so that he isn’t left behind.

“It’s alright,” you cooed into Sasuke’s ear, massaging the back of his neck in the hopes that would be enough to settle him into his nest properly. “You’re safe, my omega, alpha will look after you.”

Shikamaru –

Shikamaru wakes up from nightmares tensed for a fight, and when he realises that he’s in bed, the tenseness melts away into a desire for something to drink or smoke. The bedroom has an attached balcony, so Shika will normally grab some cigarettes and step out into the cool night air to sort out his thoughts.

The best way to comfort Shikamaru is to leave him to think alone on the balcony, but be ready to welcome him back into bed when he comes back in. You could stand on the balcony with him, he won’t mind, as long as you don’t speak or crowd him too much, but the important part is after that. He needs a little affection when he crawls back into bed, some chest rubs perhaps, to settle him enough to fall back to sleep. Shikamaru never talks about his nightmares, but this is something you can do to lessen the load in a different way.

When his alpha isn’t there, much the same happens, but Shikamaru often spends longer on the balcony and occasionally forgoes going back to sleep entirely, simply deciding that if he’s awake, he might as well get some work done. He tries not to even think about the fact that his alpha isn’t there, it will just make him feel worse, so he avoids it.

“You’re cold,” you complained after taking Shikamaru into your arms. He had just slid into bed after twenty minutes standing on the balcony.

“Sorry,” he said, his head flopping onto his pillow. “I’ll warm up in a minute.”

Shino –

Shino hardly moves during or after a nightmare, nor does he make a sound, so his alpha is unlikely to be woken up without Shino waking them on purpose, which he rarely does. Shino normally shuffles around awkwardly for a bit, trying to get closer to his alpha without waking them up, gently placing his head on their chest for a bit of comfort. It is at this point that you are most likely to be woken up.

The best way to comfort Shino is to pull him properly into your chest and stroke his hair while he settles himself. Pretend you don’t know anything is wrong and understand that if he does want to share anything about the nightmare, he’ll share it the next morning, not in the moment.

If his alpha isn’t there, Shino will normally grab for their pillow and hold that to use their scent to soothe himself back to sleep. If they’ve been gone long enough that the scent on the pillow is faded, Shino will huff a little and go and take something out of his nest to hold instead. He doesn’t really like taking things out of his nest but needs must. If he’s super upset from his nightmare and his alpha has been gone a long time, he might just crawl into his nest and spend the rest of the night there.

“It’s a cold night tonight, huh?” you murmured sleepily as you tucked a recently awakened Shino’s head into your neck.

Shino hummed in agreement but was seemingly focused on pushing his whole body as close to his alpha’s as possible.

“Get some sleep,” you murmured before pressing a kiss to his head and drifting off back to sleep.

Neji –

Neji is a light sleeper, so normally he is able to wake himself up before his dreams turn from unnerving to horrifying. Normally, but not always. When he does have an awful nightmare, he awakes with a soft gasp, blinking rapidly to try and remove the horrible images that are still firmly placed in his mind. When that doesn’t work, Neji normally gets up and makes himself a cup of tea, sitting in the kitchen to drink it.

The best way to comfort Neji is to come with him to the kitchen but let him brew the tea in peace. When he sits down at the table, take his unoccupied hand and hold it, drawing patterns on his palm or running your thumb over the back of his hand. That rarely fails to calm him down. If Neji isn’t calmed by that, it’s likely that he had a nightmare about losing you, so scoot a little closer and sneak an arm around his waist. He prefers a little more contact with his mate if he’s had a dream about losing them, after all. If it’s late enough in the morning, Neji will probably just decide to get up for the day and he’s a difficult person to coax back into bed unless he was hit really badly by the nightmare.

When he wakes up alone, Neji does the same thing, but he doesn’t sit at the table for as long, choosing instead to just get dressed and ready for the day, even if it’s 03:00AM. He doesn’t want to wallow in his thoughts alone, so he powers through, as he’s always done.

“Do you want to head back to bed?” you murmured against Neji’s hair, placing a kiss there to end your question.

Neji hesitated before shaking his head.

“Then let’s get dressed and we can head to the market before the morning rush, my love, come on now.”

Iruka –

Iruka wakes up from nightmares with a shout on his lips, an arm automatically reaching out for his mate to ensure you’re okay or to protect you from whatever he was dreaming about. When he realises that it was all a dream, he flops back onto the bed with a sigh, annoyed that his precious sleep has been interrupted. He relies on his good sleep schedule to keep him functional under his insane workload, so he uses sheer force of will to send himself back to sleep on most nights. But if his nightmare was particularly rough, he always tucks himself into his alpha’s arms. His pride certainly won’t keep him from what he needs to sleep, so he lifts up his alpha’s arm and tucks himself in, too grumpy and overtired to care if he’s disturbing them. He lets out a nice little purr when he’s situated himself perfectly and will happily take any and all comforting touches from his alpha if he wakes them up.

The best way to comfort him if to give him those soft, comforting touches, and avoid grumbling too much at his heavy-handed attempt at cuddling haha. A little head massage goes a long way with Iruka, and while he’s the biggest advocate for talking through most things in a relationship, he likes to leave the conversation for tomorrow, so verbal exchanges should be short and sweet.

If his alpha isn’t there, then Iruka will continue trying to will himself to sleep until it works. Failure isn’t an option.

“’Ruka, what do you want? It’s the middle of the night,” you groaned, tiredly rubbing your eyes.

Iruka growled lightly at your question, but didn’t otherwise acknowledge your statement, instead continuing to arrange himself in your arms.

You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face as he finally settled.

“Happy now, ‘mega?” you asked, massaging the back of his head. Iruka’s purring answered that question well enough.

Kakashi –

Kakashi’s nightmares are horrific and very frequent. But they’re also very complicated. How he reacts depends on the type of nightmare, his general stress levels, how far into the relationship he is, etc. Generally, they perturb him enough that he can never go back to sleep afterwards and he is very reluctant to ever share any of the details of his nightmares. If he wakes himself up, Kakashi is prone to shutting down emotionally to protect himself. If someone else wakes him up, he can react violently before he realises where he is, so as upsetting as it can be to watch Kakashi in a nightmare, you learn that waking him up isn’t a good idea, because Kakashi would never forgive himself if he hurt his mate in a post-nightmare stupor. Once he’s properly awake, Kakashi might try to train or go and sit by the memorial stone.

The best way to comfort Kakashi is to make the room he’s sleeping is as safe as it can be. Scent the air so that he wakes up to your scent rather than just his own panicked one, make sure all the doors are shut and curtains drawn and remove any covers that he may be tangling himself in. When he wakes up, give him space to collect himself, but talk to him so that he can recognise the sound as not hostile. Very deep into the relationship, he’ll allow you to give him some water and tuck him back into bed with some gentle words and simple affection. If the relationship isn’t that strong yet, then there’s almost zero chance he’ll stick around long enough for such things.

When Kakashi wakes up without his alpha there, he trains, trains and trains some more to burn the negative feelings from his mind. If the dream was about his alpha, Kakashi can sometimes get halfway through packing an emergency bag to go and rescue you before he realises how foolish he’s being. He’s never been very good at properly comforting himself.

“Kakashi, it’s just me here with you,” you promised him, standing away from the bed to give your disorientated mate some space. “Only us, it’s safe, ‘Kashi, it’s safe.”

Itachi –

Itachi is a master at supressing his painful emotions, and after nightmares is no different. Itachi is still and silent upon waking up from a nightmare, and unless you were already awake, there is no chance that you would notice him waking up in a melancholic mood. Itachi won’t ever wake his alpha up either, putting their own needs and comfort above his (as he always does).

If you did happen to be awake and notice his nightmare, the best way to comfort Itachi is firstly to ask him if he’s okay. He’ll always say he is, but it really means a lot to him that you care enough about him to ask. After that, there are many ways to comfort Itachi, but making him a cup of tea and brushing his hair is always a safe bet. If he’s really torn, he’ll accept some cuddling and physical affection instead of tea.

When his alpha isn’t there, he simply represses everything, gets up and dressed, and sharpens his weapons or takes a trip to the nearest town to stock up on some more dango and green tea. Itachi is used to doing things alone, but he really needs someone with him sometimes, and he is eternally grateful that, despite everything he’s done, he has someone who can care and be there for him.

“Here, my love,” you passed Itachi a cup of green tea before sliding into your bed behind him, brush in hand.

“You don’t have to do this, it’s late,” Itachi whispered, looking down into his tea.

“I love doing things like this with you,” you reassured him, already playing with his hair. “Let me worry about these things, Itachi, just enjoy your tea.”

[morganaspendragonss]

give me all your love now

full credit for the idea goes to jamie ( @silvarafael ), i am just the person lucky enough to be trusted to write it. thank you for letting me, lovely, i hope i did it justice 💚

title from we might be dead by tomorrow by soko

ao3 | 2.6k | 2.12 fix-it of sorts

The fire is everywhere, and all TK can think is that they’re going to die here.

For all his training, for all his experience, panic still has him by the throat; he’s been trapped in fire plenty of times before, but it’s never been like this. It’s never been his house, never been his boyfriend in danger. Carlos’s terrified gaze locks onto his as they crouch on the bedroom floor, and TK has to force himself to focus because it’s not just his life on the line anymore — Carlos needs him to take charge.

He searches through the smoke for something, anything, that could help them, his eyes eventually alighting upon the window. 

“The window,” he says, coughing. “How far down do you think that drop is?”

Carlos frowns. “Um, I—twenty feet? Twenty-five?”

TK barely manages to suppress a wince; a twenty foot drop is no joke, and visions of all the different injuries they could receive flash through his mind, ranging from a few bruises to a broken neck. But the flames are getting ever closer and the smoke thicker, and he knows that there’s no other option.

Either they jump, or they die.

“Come on.” He grabs Carlos’s arm, one hand on his back to keep him low, and they stumble over to the window together. Carlos seizes a chair and slams it into the glass until it shatters, grunting with the exertion.

He takes a step backwards when it’s done, tossing the chair away and looking at TK nervously. TK understands that fear, but he refuses to let it show right now, not when Carlos is so obviously struggling as it is.

“Go on,” he says, “you go first. I’ll be right behind you, I promise.”

“Okay.” Carlos nods and turns to the window, and TK takes the opportunity to let his mask slip. He folds in on himself with a hand pressed against his chest, closing his eyes as he fights to take a breath. His vision is going hazy at the edges and he knows they need to get out as soon as possible—but he refuses to leave before Carlos does. 

As much as Carlos would protest, TK knows that he is the priority in this situation. He doesn’t care what happens to him, as long as Carlos gets out and lives.

Then hands are on his face, gently bringing his head up. TK meets Carlos’s eyes, aching at the raw pain in them—Carlos so rarely lets his worry and fear show openly like this, and TK knows that the same thoughts he’s been having are running through his boyfriend’s mind.

“If we don’t…” Carlos starts, shaking his head. “If we…”

His jaw clenches, eyes going wide, and TK puts his own palms on Carlos’s cheeks, steeling himself for what they both believe might be the last words they say to each other.

He keeps his voice as calm as possible when he says, “Hey. I love you too, okay? Now go!”

He pushes on Carlos’s arm for emphasis, and lets out a breath of relief when Carlos nods and turns back around, stepping to the window. His hands clench briefly at his sides before he seems to steady himself and climbs onto the sill. Carlos sends him one last backwards glance, and TK forces a smile, a fresh pain stabbing through his heart as he gets one in return.

Then Carlos is gone, disappearing through the window with a barely audible yell. TK waits a minute, praying that Carlos is unhurt—or, as unhurt as possible—then moves forward, reaching to haul himself up.

But, before he can, the bedroom door crashes open. TK whips around, his watering eyes taking a second to recognise the bodies in the doorway as his dad and Billy.

“TK!” his dad calls. “Follow us!”

He stumbles over, gratefully accepting the damp cloth from Billy. “Dad,” he croaks. “Carlos, he—” He gestures to the window, hoping the message gets across as another coughing fit almost sends him to his knees. He’s steadied—he doesn’t know who by—then almost dragged out of the room, only aware of a guiding hand on his back and the sounds of his home collapsing around them. Dimly, he registers another voice, another set of hands, but TK can only focus on putting one foot in front of the other, everything else blending into a distorted mess of sensations.

Fresh air, when it hits, is both a blessing and a curse. TK heaves, falling to the ground as he tries to take in lungfuls of clean oxygen, but his throat is raw and his chest tight, and black spots dance in his vision as he fails to breathe. He’s vaguely aware of shapes moving around him, of the searing heat still at his back, but the burning inside him and the pounding of his own heart in his ears overwhelms it all; panic settles deep within him, and TK begins to slip as the darkness only grows.

It feels like a blink, but when he comes back to himself, the scenery is completely changed. He’s no longer outside, rough tarmac under his palms, but flat on his back, staring up at what his clouded mind slowly comes to realise is the inside of an ambulance. 

TK sits bolt upright, ignoring the dizziness that washes over him, and bats clumsily at his face until he manages to dislodge the oxygen mask someone must have strapped on him. He blinks hard, trying to clear his vision, but someone steps in front of him before he has a chance to figure out what’s going on.

“That stays on, Strand,” Captain Vega admonishes, replacing the mask over his mouth and nose. TK squints up at her, confusion clouding his thoughts.

“Cap? What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you, too,” she says wryly, before appearing to reconsider. “Actually, no, it’s not. Next time we’re in an ambulance together, please try and make sure that it’s because you’re doing your job, and not because you’re the patient.”

It takes a second for her words to process, but when they do, it’s like a puzzle finally falling into place. TK’s eyes widen and he shoves at the gurney, attempting to drag his uncooperative body into a standing position. He fails fairly spectacularly, his frantic wriggles leading him to almost roll off the gurney and onto the floor — if it weren’t for Tommy catching him at the last second, he’d probably have a broken nose to add to his list of injuries. Whatever those injuries are, anyway.

“Woah, woah, woah!” she cries. “What do you think you’re doing?”

TK takes a moment to breathe, the exertion setting his aching lungs aflame, then looks up at Tommy through watering eyes. “Carlos,” he gasps, the single word taking all the air he has.

Tommy’s face softens and she glances out of the ambulance. “Paramedics are with him,” she says, and TK’s heart plummets when no further explanation is forthcoming. That means… Well, he knows what it means. 

It means that Carlos is hurt, badly, and Tommy doesn’t want to tell him.

He opens his mouth to argue, to plead, to do something, but before he can, his dad appears, switching out with Tommy in the ambulance. Other paramedics he thinks he vaguely recognises from calls jump in too, slamming the doors shut behind them. One of them tries to guide him back onto the gurney, but TK fights against them, panicking as the rig rumbles to life.

“No, I can’t leave. Carlos — I need to see him. Please. Please, I—”

“TK!” His dad is gripping onto his wrists, pinning them down, and TK is too weak to stop him. “You need to calm down, okay? You inhaled a dangerous amount of smoke back there; you have to focus on breathing for us.”

“But—Carlos—”

“Is already being transported.” His dad sighs, loosening his grip. “Son… He fell twenty feet. They wanted to get him to hospital as soon as possible.”

The information sinks in slowly, the guilt following much faster. TK slumps, a sudden, intense weariness overcoming his body even as his mind goes into overdrive with worry. He still itches to know how bad Carlos is, but his imagination fills in the gaps plenty, and TK feels sick with the knowledge that whatever happened, it’s on him.

Carlos fell twenty feet, and TK was the one to tell him to jump.

This is all his fault.

*

“You should not be out of bed.”

TK looks up from pulling on the shirt Paul had donated, scowling at his dad. “I’m fine,” he counters, though his lungs decide to betray him by sending him into a coughing fit.

“Want to try that one again?”

When he’s recovered, TK takes a couple of deep breaths, then looks his dad dead in the eyes. “Sure. I’m fine.”

His voice is raspy and talking grates at his throat, but no coughs follow this time, so TK considers his point firmly proven and continues getting dressed. He can feel his dad’s gaze burning holes in his head, but he ignores him, pushing himself up onto unsteady feet.

His dad shakes his head, but walks over and lets TK lean on him. It’s frustrating to need the support; TK is grateful for it, but it also means that he can’t go anywhere without his dad agreeing to move, which he knows he’s going to refuse to do.

“The doctors wanted to keep you overnight.”

“It’s not like I’m going to leave the hospital,” TK points out. 

“But you won’t be getting any rest either, and they specifically told you to do that.”

“What do you want me to do, Dad?” he demands. The outburst hurts, but TK swallows down the pain and focuses his gaze on his dad, setting his jaw. “I need to see him; I need to know that he’s going to be okay.”

“I know that, son,” his dad says, sighing. “But you can’t take care of him if you don’t take care of yourself.”

“I’m barely hurt. You were there too; you heard them say that the smoke didn’t do any real damage.” TK looks down at his shoes, bitterness welling up in him and bleeding into his voice. “‘Lucky’ was the word they used. Wish I felt it.”

A brief silence falls, then his dad shifts, pulling TK’s arm over his shoulders. “Alright, then,” he says wearily. “Let’s go.”

The walk to Carlos’s room is both too short and too long. It feels as though it takes forever to get through the endless corridors, but, by the time they’re standing outside the door, TK hasn’t even begun to prepare himself for what’s waiting for him. His dad had given him the cliffnotes version—burns, a broken arm, a nasty head wound and probable concussion, a shattered kneecap that had needed surgery, and more bruised skin than not—but hearing and seeing are two very different things.

It’s only his dad at his side that gets him to take those final few steps into the room, his hands trembling as he nears Carlos’s side.

He looks… TK wants to pretend that he’s just sleeping, but there’s a slackness to his face that betrays the lie before he can even tell it. Carlos is a light sleeper—not a restless one, but if he were truly sleeping, he would have woken up at this point, roused by so many people being in the room. 

Andrea looks up at their entrance, immediately standing to give up her chair for him. TK goes to protest, but she sends him a stern look and he wilts, accepting the seat with a grateful nod. She rubs his shoulders gently, her gaze so kind and motherly that it almost breaks something in him.

“He’ll be okay,” she murmurs.

TK swallows, squeezing his eyes shut. Tears begin to slip down his cheeks, and he twists away when she reaches to wipe them away. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “This is all my fault.”

The frowns of everyone else in the room are practically audible, and TK burns with shame under the weight of all their gazes.

“What do you mean?” Gabriel asks, his tone hard—though TK knows the anger isn’t directed at him. “You didn’t start the fire; this is the fault of that sick bastard who rigged your house.”

“Not the fire,” TK corrects quietly, opening his eyes but not daring to meet anyone’s gaze. “Carlos. Jumping out of the window was my plan. We didn’t know if or when help would come and I just… I guess I panicked because I couldn’t think of anything else, and I told him to do it. All I wanted was for him to get out safe, and now look where we are. If I’d just gone first, then—”

“Then, you’d be in the bed instead of Carlos, and the rest of us would be in exactly the same position,” Andrea interrupts. “You had no way of knowing what was going to happen, and I know you did the best you could. What matters is that you’re both alive; the rest we can figure out.”

TK shakes his head, wanting to argue, but all the fight has left him, replaced by an overwhelming guilt and sorrow. Andrea pulls him into her side as sobs wrack his body, the physical pain paling next to the open wound of seeing Carlos so still before him.

*

“Are you okay?”

TK sighs, wearily looking up at the sound of the hesitant voice from the bed. “Don’t ask me that, Carlos, please. Not now.”

Carlos purses his lips, but nods, understanding clear in his eyes. He’d woken up a day ago after sleeping for two, and to say he’d been struggling would be an understatement. The total loss of their home and all their possessions had hit him hard, and they’d spent much of that first day he was awake just holding each other, words irrelevant and unnecessary.

Today, though, has been different. The team has been trickling in and out, making attempts at light conversation and, when that’s failed, offering up reassurances and, several times, their homes if TK and Carlos need it.

TK appreciates it, but he’s glad for the quiet in this moment. It’s just the two of them, his dad taking a breather with Carlos’s parents in the cafeteria, and he feels he can finally let some of the exhaustion of the past few days show on his face.

Not all of it—he still has to keep up some sort of façade for Carlos’s sake—but it’s not as though Carlos can’t see through it anyway. They know each other too well for that.

“Hey, um, back there,” Carlos starts nervously, not needing to clarify what he means by ‘back there’, “just before I jumped. I thought… I thought we weren’t going to make it. And I just—I just couldn’t say it. I don’t know why. But it kills me that we could have died and I didn’t tell you that I love you, I—I’m sorry, TK.”

TK frowns, reaching to grasp at Carlos’s hand. “What are you talking about?” he says. “Carlos… I know you love me. You don’t need to say it for it to be true. I promise you, I know.”

“I know you do,” Carlos says. “I still should have said it.”

“Baby, no.” TK leans over and kisses Carlos’s palm, lips lingering for a long moment. “No. Don’t… Don’t think about it, okay? We’re alive, and we have the rest of our lives to say it; can we just enjoy that?”

Tears shine in Carlos’s eyes, but he manages a wobbly smile as he meets TK’s eyes. “We can try,” he allows. He sinks back into the pillows, squeezing TK’s hand as hard as he can. “I love you.”

TK smiles. “There we go,” he says softly. He kisses Carlos’s temple, resting their foreheads together and closing his eyes.

“I love you too.”

[honeypirate]

making cookies Soulmate AU

Obi Akitaru x reader 

The first words your soulmate says to you is tattooed on your wrist.. Those words disappear if the other one dies. 

After the great cataclysm soulmates were few and far between, less and less people were born with the marks, so it was rare that you were one of the few blessed with the mark... although sometimes it didn’t seem like a blessing

Being the captain of Company 8, he hears those words countless times a day, “Yes Sir” so many times that he stopped thinking it was important. Those two small words on his wrist that, growing up, meant so much to him. But now they seem like just words. 

The words on your wrist, caused you a lot of confusion growing up, “welcome to company eight,” it said in small type script. You’d lay awake at night and trace over the letters with your finger, paying attention to the small comma. You knew where company 8 was, you lived just a few blocks away from it. But you didn’t want to be a fire soldier, you thought about going to company 8 once, a few years ago, just to see who worked there, but you didn’t, choosing instead to trust in fate. So you tried to live like those words didn’t matter. You became a baker like you always dreamed, opening a shop in your childhood town, living in the small apartment that resided above the shop. You happily served the people of your town, making a few friends who even worked in the 8th but you didn't tell them your secret, you always wore a bracelet which covered the words. 

Your soulmate was a fire soldier, and that terrified you. Every day you check your tattoo, to make sure it’s still there and your soulmate didn’t have an accident at work. Every morning the first thing you look at is your wrist, gently kissing the tattoo before you start your day, sending good omens to him, praying that Sol protects him, and then heading downstairs to start baking and open up the shop. 

“Good morning!” the familiar boy's voice rings through the shop as he walks through the door “good morning Shinra! The usual?” you ask as you walk out from the kitchen with a smile “yes! But i would like to order a couple dozen of those chocolate cupcakes as well” you chuckle “you got it!” you watch him as he looks out the window, waiting for you to be done boxing up the croissants and getting his coffee, he was dressed in his usual fire force get up with his bare feet like always, the first time he had found your shop he ate one of your cupcake samples and then told you if you needed a hero just to call his name because he would not allow you or your shop to be harmed. You laughed but at the same time your heart swelled, it made you feel amazing when people loved your food.

You placed the box on top of the counter and got him a coffee to go “here you go! It’s on the house today. For being my best customer” as he walks to the counter it’s like your world goes in slow motion, a flash catches your eye out of the window behind him, it’s racing right towards you shop, it doesn't take you any time to realize that it’s an infernal, “SHINRA” you shout just as it collides with the window, breaking through the windows and door, glass shattering and raining down, you only have time to gasp before Shinra has you in his arms and flying out of the way, taking you down to the company, setting you down and then disappearing inside to tell the rest of the team, leaving you shocked on the street for about four seconds before the entirety of company eight came running from the building “Shinra who is that?” a deep voice asks, when you turn your head to look at him you pause for a moment, he was tall with broad shoulders, short dark hair with shaved sides and brown eyes. ‘what a gorgeous man’ is all you can think.

 “That's y/n she owns the shop I bring baked goods from. The one that was just destroyed.” Shinra answers, hopping into the truck. Before he closes the door the gorgeous man looks at you for a moment before saying “welcome to company 8, Stay here” your heart stops for a second, your hand grabbing your wrist as you force yourself to say anything back to him “y-yes sir!” you stutter out and then curse yourself, that was so dumb why did I say that. He just looks at you, stunned for a second, part of his heart lighting up with a small glimmer of hope, hope that this beautiful human turns out to be his soulmate, before Shinra yells “captain!” and he looks away from you, his ears turning red, and drives off in the direction of your shop that was currently burning to the ground. 

“Wait,... what am I doing?” you say before taking off running in the same direction. 

You keep a distance, watching in shock as they work like a well oiled machine, fighting the infernal in the destroyed remnants of your shop and home. You can't help the shocked tears that flow down your cheeks, sure you had savings and insurance and could rebuild, but this was your life, the things that made your home a home were burning down before your eyes. You didn’t even really register that you just met your soulmate, it didn’t really matter when you just lost everything, in the moment when he said the words you recognized it but after that it was pushed to the back of your mind. 

You’re standing in the middle of the street, just a block away, and you hear the words of the prayer whispered as it floats down to you on the wind along with the smoke. Then in slow motion a blonde guy uses a sword to put the infernal to rest. You slowly walk up to the building as they put out the fires, tears still running down your cheeks. You end up standing next to Shinra “this was all I had” you whisper. He looks at you and his face slowly breaks out in his tense smile, he watches you for a few seconds, your tears streaming down and your arms hugging your body as you look at the wreckage, the sign above your shop barely hanging on by it’s last nail. 

Shinra quietly slips away, running over to the Captain. “Captain we have to let her stay at the company. The infernal was targeting me and she has no where else to go.” Captain Obi thinks for a moment, considering the options, if you really didn't have anywhere else he wouldn't turn you away, he couldn't. It wouldn't be right. “Okay. She can stay with us and we will spend the next few weeks rebuilding for her. She can stay with us until we finish rebuilding.” 

Shinra finds you again, now talking to Maki in the same spot he left you. She hugs you and  says something he doesn't catch but it seems to make you feel a little better

“Y?n!” he says as runs over, “I talked to Captain Obi, he said you can stay with us until we’ve rebuilt your shop!” your heart starts to race and you cock your head and look up at him “really?” you ask, brain a little foggy from the shock of it all still. He nods “of course. It’s the least we can do” you wipe away the rest of your tears and nod “Thank you Shinra. That is so nice of you guys” Maki gets excited with that information “this is perfect! What do you say about going shopping for a few things since.. ya know.. And then i'll show you around the place!” you chuckle at her excitement, her personality already making you feel better “that sounds good” you nod and she squeals, running off to get Iris and Tamaki as well. You sent Shinra into your house to check and see if your wallet by your bed was burned, which it was, but your bank card thankfully wasn't, the fire that melted the plastic of your wallet being put out before it burned the last pocket. You kissed the card when Shinra handed it to you, you really hated calling the bank. 

You went down to the few shops in town and got a few replacement outfits as well as replacing some other necessities. Shopping with them was easy, they came into your shop a lot and you were only 6 years older than Maki, the longer you all talked the more it was like having sisters. During the middle of your shopping trip HInawa had called Maki asking about your insurance provider “you guys take care of that?” you ask, a little shocked, you half expected a day of phone calls trying to get them to cover that accident. “Yeah! Obi likes to make sure the people are taken care of” you felt butterflies enter your heart, you haven’t even met him yet but all you have been told about him has been really good to hear. 

“If i am going to be staying there for a little bit can you tell me about who else also lives there?” you felt genius for this, a way to learn more about Obi without being obvious. “Of course!” Tamaki said, “we will skip Shinra and Arthur because you know them from your shop and Vulcan and Lisa because we already talked about them” it’s true, for thirty minutes they were all they talked about because of how cool Rhee were to them since they was the newest to the team. You didn't really pay attention to what they were saying about Hinawa, a little impatient, trying to use your thoughts to get them to move on to Obi now. You felt your heart rate quicken when Iris said “on to our captain!” you felt your cheeks get warm so you turn to a different clothing rack to avoid them noticing. Maki still noticed though, and she grinned when she saw your reaction.

 Iris continues talking though, looking through the rack next to you “he’s really kind and does not tolerate anything except respect for those bereaved or grieving. He’s very courageous! He doesn't have an Ignition Ability but he doesn’t flinch or hesitate because of his responsibility to his teammates” she talked about him like he was her personal hero, you can tell she respects him. Maki is on your other side and she pipes in “and he is insanely buff! Always working out at any opportunity, lifting weights during a meeting and doing pull-ups while having casual conversations. He can be serious and strong-willed, but still likes to joke around. Also” she leans in closer to you “he doesn't have a soulmate” you gasp as your face turns red, its clear Iris didn’t hear and for that you’re thankful. “Hey guys should we get this for Hinawa?” Tamaki says with a laugh and holds up an entire cat outfit along with ears. Maki gets distracted then, leaving you to go join in the laughter with Tamaki. You let out a breath and  try to calm down before going to join them, changing the conversation to learn why exactly they would get weird things for the poor man.

After showing you the offices and the kitchen, Tamaki shows you where you will be staying, “you will be at the end of the hall, Maki and Iris share a room at the opposite end, followed by Me and Lisa, Shinra and Arthur, Vulcan and Viktor, though Viktor usually stays in the lab, then there is Hinawa in the next room with you in the last room and Obi’s room the only room on the left side of the hall across from yours, with the bathrooms being around the corner.” She helped you carry your bags to the room and put away your new clothing in the dresser and closet. You looked at the small bedroom, a single bed off to the side, it looked bare and empty, you wished you had your normal pillows and blanket but you guessed they were destroyed. “We usually have dinner around 7 together, if you want you can shower and rest before then. It’s been a long day.” “thank you Tamaki. You all have been so kind I feel like I’m with family” her cheeks flush a little “it’s no problem!” she says and smiles before she leaves you ask her if you could use the kitchen after you bathe, to bake something. “Of course! We all want you to feel at home here. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

After you shower, you head to the kitchen, happy when you find it empty. You decide to make your favorite dessert along with the cupcakes Shinra likes and some flan that he sometimes used to get for his team. You were fluid in the kitchen,able to make all three different desserts at the same time while singing along to your favorite song, the one you always listen to when you're stressed. What you didn’t know was that someone was watching you from the crack in the door, a small smile on his lips as he watched you in your zone. As Obi walked away he was absentmindedly humming along to the tune you were singing and heading to go see if he had it on a record.

The flan was in the fridge, your favorite dessert was cooling, and all of the cupcakes were frosted perfectly, you wiped down all of the counters, washed the dishes, and you were now finishing drying and putting the dishes back in their places when the door opens and a stiff man came in, pausing when he sees you. You are using a towel to dry off a bowl and you meet his eye with a smile “you must be Lt. Hinawa. I am told you do a lot of the cooking. I hope I didn’t mess up any of the order in here, I made sure to put everything back when I found it.” you place the bowl in the cupboard and hang up the towel on its rod “No worries, it’s nice to finally meet you y/n. I hope you are comfortable here” he says and then starts to cook dinner, you move your desserts out of the way and then leave the kitchen to get out of his way, accidentally leaving your bracelet by the sink without noticing. you decide to go find Maki and see what she is doing

You find Maki with Tamaki and Iris in Maki’s room, Lisa was with Vulcan and everyone else had things to do. You end up hanging out with them talking until dinner. Tamaki notices your bracelet was gone when you ran your fingers through your hair as you listened to Iris telling a story about being a fire soldier. “Where is your bracelet?” Tamaki asks and you gasp and look down at your hand, your fingers going to cover your tattoo at that moment. “Shoot, I must have left it in the kitchen when I did the dishes” Maki gasps “. Do you have a tattoo? Do you have a SOULMATE” she exclaimed excitedly “oh please be quiet please keep it a secret'' you plead with them and they calm down “why? What's wrong?” Iris asks and you sigh looking down at your hands ``because I think it's Obi” you whisper and then show them your tattoo “welcome to company 8 comma” Tamaki reads aloud then grins in recognition “what did you say to him first?” She asks and you blush in embarrassment “he told me to stay here and I said ‘yes sir’” you say and bury your face in your hands “so lame” you add muffled against your palms. 

“Oh my god Obi’s wrist says yes sir” your head snaps up and you look at Maki “really?” you ask and she nods with a grin. You chuckle and then smile “ will you guys keep it a secret? I want to tell him at the right time” they nod with smiles on their lips and your body floods with excitement. 

During dinner you had to keep sending pointed looks to the girls so they would act normal in front of Obi who happened to sit next to you at the table. They kept looking at you with grins and you would put your fingers to your lips. “I've been meaning to come by your shop for a while, I'm sorry this is how we would meet.” Obi says after everyone sat down to eat and talk you smile at him, making sure you keep your wrist in your lap and covered, “Don’t worry about it!.. uhhh... do i call you captain?” you ask and cock your head at him, he chuckles “just call me Obi” he says and nods once “well Obi, thank you for letting me stay here and helping me rebuild. I appreciate it more than you know” your voice is kind and sends tingles down his spine “it’s the least I can do” his ears turn a little pink which doesn't go unnoticed by Tamaki who is sitting across from him. 

“Did you always want to be a Fire Soldier?” you ask and he laughs “originally i was just a firefighter, I realized that the Companies have a lot of weak points and i felt responsible to fix them” you nod “You sound like a good respectable man” you say with a nod and take a drink of your water. “Did you always want to bake?” he asks, trying to hide his obvious fluster to your praise. “I did. I debated being a FIre Soldier, just to prove I could, but that wasn't my fate” he fights a smile at your choice of the word fate, thinking back to the fact that your first words to him matched his soulmate tattoo, but he is failing at finding out if you had a soulmate tattoo or not since you’ve kept your wrist hidden. 

When Obi got distracted talking to Hinawa you took that opportunity to study him, his strong arms and his large hands, his handsome face and the curve of his jaw, his adam's apple and the veins in his neck. Tamaki and Maki watching the whole ordeal with stars in their eyes. 

You start to clear the table “I made dessert for everyone, if you want some i can bring it out and we can eat together” you feel a little shy until Shinra gets excited “you DID? YES!” he’s up and gone before you, taking the dishes form your hands on his way. Before you can even follow he's back with the desserts and more plates. You chuckle and help pass around plates of flan and your favorite dessert, the cupcakes being just set in the middle of the table. “You are the best y/n!” Shinra and Arthur exclaim, everyone else taking what they want quick before the two start in a competition like usual. You knew what they were like when they would come in and each order an astronomical amount of strawberry tarts just to see how many they could in a row tring to best the other, they usually ended up sick. It's why you hid some of the dessert in the kitchen.

“This is amazing y/n” Obi says and takes another bite. “I also like those cookie frosting sandwiches you make, Shinra brought some back once and I stole one. Amazing.” you blush “thank you Obi. I’m glad you liked it.”  After everyone is done, they all slowly break away from the group, heading to get ready for bed or do paperwork. You head to the kitchen to help clean up, mostly unsure what you were going to do about your soulmate situation. You thought he deserved to know but at the same time you were nervous. After the dishes were done you head to your room to try and sleep. 

When two am rolled around and you were still awake and thinking about Obi in the next room, you sighed and got up, deciding to do some more baking, it helped you think. 

You were chopping up chocolate bars for the cookies, deciding to make frosting filled cookies since Obi said he liked them, you had all the ingredients measured and ready to go, the recipe memorized. You were just getting the chocolate ready and not really paying attention, you did this so often you got into a rhythm. But you were a little distracted too, thinking about the best way to bring up soulmates. It was a little taboo after all, since not a lot of people had them. You gasp out in pain when the knife drags across your fingertip, you look down at the cut, watching as blood emerges and it starts to sting “shit” you say and sigh, getting a towel to hold against the bleeding. 

“If I was a first aid kit, where would I be?” you whisper quietly as you look around in all the cupboards. You sit on the ground, letting out a huff as you decided to lay down on the cold floor. A chuckle makes your eyes flick open and up to the sound “Hi” Obi says and waves slightly “what’s going on in here?” he asks with an amused expression so you sit up and turn towards him “do you have any bandaids?” you ask and he turns immediately concerned. “What happened?” he asks and then fetches the first aid kit, in a cupboard that you had already checked cashing you to frown. “I was making cookies because I couldn't sleep and I cut my finger. I'm just glad I didn’t get any blood anywhere. No food contamination.” You furrow your brows at the feelings in your heart. You barely know him but you feel like you could talk to him about anything, like he was always with you to begin with. You felt comfortable and you knew without a doubt that you could trust him with anything. He sits down in front of you, stifling a yawn as he holds out his hand for yours. You gently place your hand in his own and he gently peels away the towel. “It’s not bleeding anymore and it isn't too deep. What cookies are you making?” you blush and watch him as he cleans and bandages your finger, grateful for your long sleeve hoodie for covering your wrist, but still nervous as his hand gently holds your wrist over the words, it could slip at any moment. 

“I uh..” he looks up into your eyes and you feel your cheeks get warmer “I was making those ones you mentioned earlier” your voice quiet from his proximity. He smiles warmly “you were?!” you nod shyly “That really makes me excited. But you should be more careful. Your hands are too pretty to be hurt” he blushes as he speaks, his hand still holding your wrist even though your finger was taken care of already. “Why are you awake?” you ask and he shrugs “I felt like something was off so I decided to just look around and make sure everything was fine. I guess I was up to take care of you” he chuckles softly as you blush, you felt your neck getting hot as well from his words, it was like he knew you were hurt and needed to find you, you really were soulmates there was no denying it. 

 “Obi, I need to tell you something” you whisper and look down at your lap “what is it?” his brows furrow but his hand doesn’t release your wrist, secretly hoping to somehow move your shirt to see if you had a mark. “Do you remember the first thing you said to me?” you ask, his heart stops, realizing where you were going “welcome to company 8 stay here” he whispers and you nod  “and do you remember what i said to you?” you take his other hand, “yes sir” he says and you mouth the words along with him, your fingers brushing over the mark. He uses his thumb on the hand holding your wrist to brush your sleeve up, exposing your mark. 

You sat there for who knows how long, his left hand in your right as you stare down at the words, your fingers brushing against his skin, running from his mark up to his elbow in swirls. Your left hand was being held in his right, his eyes on the mark and his thumb moving softly back and forth, the ingredients on the counter forgotten about for the time being. 

“I figured” his voice cuts through the silence and you look up at his face, not stopping your movements on his arm. He clears his throat and then meets your eye, a smile on his lips, “I figured that yours had to be something specific since mine wasn’t at all” you chuckle “ ‘yes sir’ when you're a captain means little” and he nods with a chuckle “I wanted to come here before, to just see, but I didn’t want to mess anything up. I let it just be what it was supposed to” he nods “that was my guess, I know how it can be when not a lot of people have soulmates anymore” you chuckle and reach up, cupping his cheek “I still worried about you, every day, sending you good luck through my mark.” You tilt your head and smile “you don’t have a safe line of work if you didn’t know” he laughs at that, leaning into your touch “I know I know, I’m sorry for making you worry, and i'm sorry for the worry i will most likely put you through in our lifetime” your heart races “at least you can really have my good luck kisses now” you say with a chuckle, your cheeks flushing as you look into his eyes. 

He leans in slowly, his eyes flicking down to your lips, you wrap your free hand under his arm and grip his strong back, the muscles rippling under your palm, as you pull yourself closer to him, smiling and closing your eyes as his lips connect with yours. 

“What. the. Fuck. is happening in here?” Hinawa says, a glass in his hand and sleep still evident in his eyes as you break apart and look up at him in the doorway. “We’re making cookies” you and Obi both say at the same time in the same way and then look at each other and bust up in giggles like you weren’t two grown adults sitting on the floor kissing like teenagers

[taexual]

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (7)

  jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: angst + some cute bonding

words: 5.3k

    chapter seven

You returned home to your parents that weekend, always grateful that they lived only an hour from campus. It was always nice to go home – especially when your thoughts were in chaos – but with your return here, you were also reminded of the issues that made you glad you’d moved out in the first place.

Despite returning home on Friday night, you only saw both of your parents at the same time for Sunday night dinner – right before you went back to your dorm – because they were the sort of people who didn’t know how to quit working. You often felt like you’d inherited their drive but you prided yourself in firmly believing that if your kids visited you from college for the first time in the whole semester, then, unlike your parents, you’d take the weekend off and give them your undivided attention.

You felt like this was where you differed from them most – they rarely prioritized relationships over achievements – but, in the middle of dinner, you found out that the concerned look on your mother’s face – that appeared there after a phone call she’d gotten right before sitting down by the table –  wasn’t caused by a business deal going wrong but, rather, by her best friend.

“She said that Jungkook didn’t show up for dinner,” your mother said, chewing very thoughtfully. “They’re all going out of their minds.

This wasn’t the first time that your mother mentioned Jungkook’s name over dinner, but she used to be more careful about it before. However, now that Jungkook’s mother informed her that you’d visited him at the hospital, your mother was convinced that you and him have reconnected – if only she knew... – so she felt much more comfortable bringing him up.

“Why?” you asked. “It’s not the first time he’s done that, I’m sure.”

“Well, no, but ever since he got into that accident,” your mother paused as she said this, looking at you pointedly – she was mad you hadn’t told her you visited him – and then carried on, “he made a deal with his parents to show up for dinner every Sunday night. And he missed this one.”

“Well,” you said nonchalantly, even though, admittedly, the look in his eyes when you’d last seen him haunted your memory, “it was bound to happen sooner or later. You know what he’s like.”

“They were really worried,” your mother continued and, slowly, it started to seem like she was subtly asking you for something.

“They shouldn’t be,” you said, choosing to ignore her pleading eyes instead of outright questioning what she expected you to do about this. You had a feeling you knew what her answer was going to be. “I don’t doubt that he’s fine.”

Your father cleared his throat suddenly. “Do you know where he is?”

You looked at him in confusion. “No. How would—”

“Well, then you can’t not doubt that he’s fine,” he stated. Sometimes he was just as frustratingly un-father-like as Jungkook’s father was. “Something could have happened to him.”

You looked down to your plate, considering your options. You could attempt to turn back the time and never come home this weekend. Or you could do what your parents clearly wanted you to do and try to find Jungkook even if it meant stepping over your pride by reaching out to him first.

Hesitantly, you lifted your eyes to meet your mother’s hopeful gaze. “Do you want me to call him?”

“Would you, dear?” she asked but she was really telling you to just do it, please.

“Of course,” you said and excused yourself from the table.

You had to take a few obligatory deep breaths in your bedroom before you could pick up your phone. In all honesty, you’d have rather climbed out of the window and returned to campus on foot – surely you’d make it in time for your classes on Monday – but you knew you’d never forgive yourself if he actually got himself into some more trouble and you stayed away, too prideful to check on him.

Unfortunately – or, perhaps, fortunately; you were yet to decide – Jungkook didn’t pick up your call. Not the first, not the second, and not even the fourth one. His phone was turned on, though, so it was almost like he was ignoring you on purpose, and you started to think that this may have been his way of getting revenge after you ignoring his calls a few days ago.

He hadn’t given up when you refused to answer, though, and showed up at your dorm – a lot of good that did for you two – so you felt like you somehow owed him to keep trying, too. This frustrated you, however. You weren’t even calling to apologize – although it was possible that he thought you were and that was why he wasn’t answering – you just needed to let his parents know that he was alive since, clearly, he didn’t care enough to do so himself.

Sighing, you tried to come up with a different way to reach Jungkook and then remembered that Inna had mentioned she’d gotten Yoongi’s phone number at Parental Advisory’s last party. Thinking that this was worth a shot, you texted your roommate, asking her help.

True to her nature, Inna inquired why you needed Yoongi’s number before she sent it, but she agreed to wait until you got back to the dorm to hear your explanation.

Realizing that this may have been bordering on stalker behavior, you dialed the number of Jungkook’s bandmate and prepared to get laughed at because he was probably just passed out drunk like any other weekend.

“Yes,” Yoongi said when he picked up your call, his voice oddly high-pitched. “It’s me.”

Confused by his unusual method of answering the phone, you double-checked the screen to make sure you were really connected and this wasn’t his voicemail, before you stuttered awkwardly, “hi, I’m Jungkook’s friend. I was—”

“Jungkook’s friend!” he repeated excitedly. He did not sound sober. “So good to hear from you.”

You sincerely doubted he knew who you were, but you had no time to get into that.

“Yes, well, do you know where he is right now?” you asked.

“He is present,” Yoongi said and then elaborated after a moment, “he is here.”

“Here?” you couldn’t understand. “As in, home? At your house?”

“We’re having a jam session,” he laughed, his mind elsewhere now. “Well, we were having a jam session. Now we’re having a smoke session.”

“A smok—are you high?” you asked, standing up from your bed. “Is Jungkook—”

“He is present!” Yoongi repeated, so excited to help. You wondered what was it that they were smoking that got him so disoriented and cheerful. “Are you really his friend?”

The question took you off-guard. You didn’t know how to explain your relationship with Jungkook to a sober person, so even trying to explain it to someone who was so very obviously high seemed impossible.

“Yes,” you ended up saying. “Could I talk to him?”

“I don’t see why not,” Yoongi said.

“Okay,” you said.

“Okay,” he repeated.

You waited for Yoongi to pass the phone but the silence on the other end didn’t seem to end. You had a feeling he didn’t understand what you had asked him to do.

“Yoongi?” you tried.

“Yes,” he said right away. “It’s me.”

You could have strangled him in that moment. “Could you please put Jungkook on the phone?”

“No, I can’t do that,” he said.

You groaned. “Why not?”

“He left.”

“He left?” you repeated, exasperated. “Where did he go?”

He didn’t reply again. In his defense, he shrugged – it’s not his fault you couldn’t see him.

“Yoongi?” you said again.

“Yes,” he said. “It’s—”

“Where did Jungkook go?” you repeated quickly before he could give you the break-down of who you were talking to one more time.

“I don’t know,” he said with a sigh. “I’m tired. I’m going to get some food. Do you want some?”

“I—Yoongi, hey, listen,” you continued even though this was clearly an uphill battle. “I need you to find him.”

“Find him?” Yoongi repeated, seemingly puzzled by this task you’d given him.

“Yes,” you said and slowly spelled it out for him, “find him, okay? Find. Jungkook.”

“Yes,” he said. “That would be nice. He has the bong.”

“Okay, yes. Find the bong.”

“The bong!” he screeched and you heard excited shrieks follow in the background of the call. You couldn’t even begin to guess how many people were there. “Oh, the bong is right here. Funny.”

He giggled for the next half a minute, not letting you interrupt. Your sanity was hanging on the edge of a cliff.

“Yoongi,” you tried, only for him to wheeze and start giggling again. “Yoongi, so is Jungkook there, too?”

“No,” he replied through laughter. “But the bong is!”

Everyone cheered on his end once again.

That was your breaking point.

“Nevermind,” you said. “Stay safe, okay?”

You didn’t wait for him to reply – or, God forbid, start giggling again – before you hung up the call and left your bedroom in a huff.

Your mother was the first one to notice that you’d left your room but she closed her mouth right after opening it when she saw your frustrated expression.

“Is everything okay?” your father asked since your mother was struggling with words.

“I’m going back home,” you announced, grabbing your sneakers from the hallway and sitting down on the floor to put them on. You looked up to see your parents exchange a confused glance. “Will one of you drive me?”

“Of course,” your mother finally spoke. “B-but did you get a hold of—”

“No, but I know where he is,” you said, your irritation evident in your voice, “I’ll go over there and drag his—tell him to call his parents.”

Your mother looked at your father one more time after your near slip-up – you never swore or used any language that was even remotely foul around your parents – and was about to suggest you stayed home instead, but when she turned back around, you were already putting your coat on.

“Perhaps it’s enough for them to know that he’s okay,” your mother said, careful now. Suddenly, she seemed to have no trouble remembering how big of an impact Jungkook used to have on your emotions when you were still friends – the smallest argument with him would have you slamming doors – and, more importantly, what an emotional mess you’d become when he decided to stop being friends. “You don’t have to look for him.”

“I don’t know if he’s okay,” you said, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. Your mother looked even more worried when you looked at her again. “I mean, he probably is, but just to make sure—”

“Are you okay?” she asked. She had these caring moments sometimes – well, to be fair, she’d never forgotten to check on you when she could tell that you were suffering, she was just usually more of the cold-and-calculated type – and they always took you by surprise.

“I’m—no, yeah, I’m fine,” you told her. “I just—well, I haven’t seen him this whole week and the last time we spoke, we didn’t part on good terms. He had this look in his eye that was, I don’t know—I get that it sounds stupid but he just looked like—”

Your mother extended her hand, placing it on your arm in a comforting manner.

“Let’s go,” she said, accepting your concern as valid even if it was caused by something as trivial as ‘a look in his eyes’ that you couldn’t properly articulate. “You can check on him and then call me, so I can update his mom.”

You felt a little awkward saying goodbye to your mother when she let you out in front of your dormitory several hours earlier than she was supposed to. You told her you’d walk to Jungkook’s place on your own, not wanting to make this weirder by having her to drop you off there, even though she insisted.

Waving at her as she drove away, you turned towards the Parental Advisory house, hoping to lose your discomfort on the way there.

However, if you’d felt a little awkward before, you felt properly pathetic on the doorstep of where Jungkook lived. You could see the light inside so, obviously, someone was home – but in what state? Would they even understand that someone was at the door once you rang the bell? – and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to let your presence be known.

This was wrong. You regretted coming and couldn’t help but feel embarrassed in advance because Jungkook – or one of his band members – was most likely going to kick you out for showing up here.

You completely forgot the irritation your hopeless phone call with Yoongi had caused you to feel, and this rescue mission no longer made any sense to you. Jungkook was probably fine, smoking with his friends, not at all worried about the anxiety he’s caused his parents.

Probably.

“Something could have happened to him,” your father had said and, with a deep breath, you finally got over yourself and knocked on the door – not just because of Jungkook’s stressed parents but because of your own distress, too.

The door opened almost as soon as you knocked – as if the person on the other side had been waiting for someone to come – and you were met with Jungkook’s red eyes. For some reason, you were expecting Yoongi to open the door and had already prepared a very slow request to take you to Jungkook - all so it’d reach the more sober cavities of his brain - so now you were almost completely speechless.

“I, uh—h-hi,” you said distractedly.

Jungkook watched you in confusion for a moment or two. “Did you say you were coming?”

“No, I’m—no. I didn’t,” you replied, giving him a once-over to get an idea of what you were going to have to deal with. His eyes could have been red because he wasn’t sleeping. But also because he was high on something. “Are you okay?”

What you really meant was, are you sober enough to understand what I’m saying?

“I’m fine,” he said with a scoff. “Did you come all the way here to ask me that?”

“Actually, yeah,” you said and then cleared your throat. “Your mom called mine. She was worried about you. Apparently, you, uh, skipped dinner?”

Jungkook just nodded to himself – realizing that you weren’t here by choice, you were here because of his parents – and then sighed. “It’s fine. I just didn’t feel like playing a responsible son tonight.”

“You could have called,” you said, lowering your eyes and mentally preparing yourself for a yet another don’t-tell-me-how-to-live-my-life speech from him.

“I could have,” he agreed instead and then opened the door wider. “Do you want to come inside?”

You lifted your gaze again, the invitation catching you by surprise. You thought that perhaps Jungkook actually was high – otherwise, why would he invite you in? – but, in all truth, he seemed sober, just very very tired.

Coming inside wasn’t a good idea. You hadn’t planned it. Hell, you barely planned what you were going to say to him and you certainly didn’t think the conversation was going to progress this much.

And yet you found yourself shrugging your shoulders.

“Yeah,” you said, your tongue loosening itself from your brain. “Yeah, okay. I’ll just—I’ll text my mom so she can let your parents know you’re alive.”

He rolled his eyes at this but moved to a side to encourage you to come in. You walked past the threshold and stopped as soon as you entered, typing a text message to your mother. When you put your phone away, the two of you found yourselves awkwardly situated on opposite ends of the hallway of his house.

“I’m glad it’s you my parents sent as a search party for me,” Jungkook said when you looked at him, “and not the police helicopters.”

“Ah,” you said as you contemplated how to explain why you came without making it sound like a big deal, “your parents didn’t send me. It was my decision. I tried to call you but you weren’t picking up and then I called Yoongi—”

“You called Yoongi looking for me?” he asked.

Funny how just a few days ago you thought that Jungkook and Namjoon having a face-off outside of your dorm room had put you in the most uncomfortable position you’d ever been in. Right now, having to tell Jungkook how you went through every possible measure to find him – just hours short of actually calling the police, really – you felt much worse.

“I did,” you said, swallowing your dignity since there was barely any of it left anyway. “But he was no help at all. So, I had no choice but to come.”

You and him both knew that you had a lot of other choices – completely ignoring his absence, for example – but they weren’t the ones that you’d picked.

Trying not to make it obvious how pleased he was that you’d done all this just to find him, Jungkook looked around the hallway as he respectfully waited for the smirk to disappear from his lips. Then, he focused on you again.

“I’m glad you came,” he said.

“I’m glad you’re not dead,” you replied.

The smirk returned and he couldn’t fight it anymore. “Did you really think I was dead?”

You inhaled sharply before admitting, “I didn’t know what to think. Last time I looked away from you for one second, you drunkenly crashed your car into a pole.”

“It was a tree trunk, I think.”

“It—is that really the part to focus on?”

“No, sorry,” he snickered. “I get it. You think I’m out of control when left unsupervised.”

“I don’t think,” you disagreed. “I know.”

He just smiled at you for a while after you’d said this. You were about to ask him what the problem was when he finally explained.

“That is the most you thing I’ve heard you say since we started talking again,” he said.

“Well, falling off the grid has been the most you thing I’ve seen you do, so we’re even,” you replied, avoiding his smiling eyes so you could remain cool and collected.

“Do you want to go inside?” he asked then. “I mean, into the actual house. I don’t think I’ve ever spent this much time in my hallway.”

You had agreed to come inside but this second invitation suddenly cleared the way for more doubts.

“I don’t want to interrupt,” you said. “When I called Yoongi, he seemed to be in the middle of a very unusual, uh, social gathering.”

“It’s not that unusual,” Jungkook said as he turned around and walked towards the kitchen, expecting you to follow after him. Naturally, you did. You always did, for as long as you could remember. “And you’re not interrupting. You’re my guest.”

“Oh, what an honor,” you couldn’t help the sarcasm, automatically imagining him saying this to plenty of other people that he’d brought here before.

Jungkook glanced at you over his shoulder. “It’s not?”

You countered, “should it be?”

“Yes,” he replied, pulling back a stool by the kitchen island for you to sit on while he headed for the fridge. “We don’t have guests over during weekdays. It’s sort of an unwritten rule. But you’re always welcome here.”

He shrugged when he said that last part – to make it seem nonchalant – but his lowered eyes proved how nervous he got when he found himself in the middle of saying it.

“Thank you,” you said and, just as Jungkook opened the fridge to get you two some drinks, your phone buzzed with a response from your mother. She had sent a three-paragraph text message, thanking you for what you did on behalf of Jungkook’s parents, herself, and, basically, the entire nation. “Your mom needs you to call her tomorrow when you’re free.”

“Sure,” he mumbled from inside of the fridge. Yoongi had hidden all the soju bottles – it seemed like a funny prank to him – and Jungkook was too focused on finding them to fully register anything you were saying.

So, to confirm that he’d really heard you, you asked, “are you going to do it?”

He finally located the green bottle and pulled it out. “Do what?”

“Call your mom.”

“Oh,” he didn’t want to say no to you, so he shrugged and said, “sure. We never have anything to talk about but, yeah, I’ll call her.”

You sighed because, even though you’d already told him this when he was at the hospital, he still didn’t seem to get it.

“When it comes to you, it’s not so much about having things to talk about,” you said. “It’s about simply knowing that you’re doing okay when you disappear out of the blue.”

“It wasn’t out of the blue,” he argued, hitting the base of the bottle against his elbow before opening it.  

“It was,” you disagreed. “You’d told them you’d come and then you didn’t show up.”

Jungkook paused before reaching for a drawer where they kept a set of shot glasses.

“They just,” he said and a tired sigh passed his lips mid-sentence, “they expect so much from me. And it’s like they know I won’t deliver, so they’re turning me into a huge disappointment before I even do anything.”

“They’re not,” you said but you were uncertain. “They want what’s best for you and, okay, sure, they expect a lot from you but all parents do.”

He gave you a doubtful look. “Do they?”

“Yeah. Mine do, too. They’re never proud of anything I do unless I’m the only one doing it. Unless I’m setting an example,” you said.

Jungkook lowered his eyes because he knew that, of course. He knew about your family almost as well as you knew about his and yet, in a roll of self-pity, he had forgotten that you didn’t grow up being coddled -- like most of the other kids in the suburbs where you grew up -- either.

“How do—how did you grow up like that and didn’t turn out like me?” he asked suddenly. The bottle of soju sat still in front of him, momentarily forgotten.

You didn’t like the self-deprecation in his question – even despite having some similar thoughts – as you said, “you’re not all bad.”

“No, you know what I mean,” he said. “If it weren’t for my parents, I probably wouldn’t even be in college.”

This surprised you. “You don’t want to be here?”

“No, I—I don’t know. I don’t know what I want,” he admitted, his words an echo from when you talked to him at the hospital. “But I’d appreciate some time to figure it out. Now, it’s just like I’m only here as an obligation to our stockholders before I inevitably join the company.”

You didn’t really know how to counter that because, essentially, that was really what this was. Jungkook’s family had always prided itself on their good education and even greater ambitions, but now, for all the kids in his family, going to college has become a mere formality to prove that they deserved their place in the family company.

“Looks like we’ve found our core difference,” you said finally as Jungkook poured the soju into shots and passed one to you. “I actually want to be here. I’m not here for my parents, I’m here for me. For my own dreams.”

Jungkook tried not to sound jealous as he said, “you don’t have your whole future decided for you.”

“That’s right,” you said, your voice laced with tones of irrational bitterness. You knew it wasn’t Jungkook’s fault he was born into a family that had a legacy. A family that could have made your dreams come true. “I don’t.”

“I didn’t mean it like a bad thing,” he clarified quickly. “I was just saying how y-you get to decide who you are. You get to build yourself, create your own business.”

“That—see, that’s just it,” you said with a sigh and gulped down your soju shot. Jungkook followed suit. “I’m just like everyone else here, ambitious and yet uncertain.”

“At least you’re ambitious,” he said. “I’m just uncertain.”

You smiled sadly. “If only we could trade places, right?”

“Yeah,” he said and then added with a scoff, “I’d love to see my father try to order you around.”

“He wouldn’t have to,” you said indignantly. “I’m a very obedient daughter.”

“Hmm, yeah. I know you are.”

You were too focused on his hands as he poured soju into shots so you weren’t looking at him as he said this, but when you raised your eyes, the teasing grin on his lips covered his words with a flirty layer.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, which was, obviously, the wrong thing to do because your stomach was already sizzling with an approaching fire and, as Jungkook’s smile widened, it completely burst into flames.

It was like you were thirteen again, watching him ride bikes around the neighborhood with his friends. Every time he’d drive past you, he’d turn to look at you and he’d give you a smile – his most special one, the one rarely anyone got to see from the moody teenager that he’d become – and you would stay awake the whole night after that, thinking of it for weeks to come.

You really shouldn’t have come here tonight.

“Nothing,” Jungkook said and, as he passed you another shot of soju, the two of you fell quiet.

Coated in silence, you considered if maybe -- as long as you remembered not to let your past feelings take over -- you actually could develop a new, genuine friendship with him. And then, even if he did choose to end it abruptly again, you wouldn’t be as hurt as you’d been the first time. You’d be fine. It would hurt because losing a friend always hurt but it wouldn’t hurt as much as losing someone you were in love with would.

You both downed your shots without looking at each other and, with the alcohol now in your veins, the comfortable silence around you started to get heavy.

Both of you were thinking. Remembering.

Finally, after a while, Jungkook could no longer resist bringing up the last time he’d seen you.

“So, uh, how was that project?” he asked, leaning on his elbows on the island as he remained in his spot opposite you.

You weren’t following. “What project?”

“The one you were doing with that guy,” he said. “Namjoon.”

The way he said his name was ridiculously exaggerated – as if somehow Namjoon was now his number-one nemesis – and you snorted, not yet realizing the gravity of his question. But Jungkook’s face was completely somber when you looked at him.

“Uh, the project is fine,” you said, coughing to ease the tension in the air around you. “We gave the professor a progress update this week, and we’ll be able to present it in a few more weeks.”

“I see,” Jungkook nodded. “So, are you going to see him again after you wrap the project up?”

“I don’t know. I mean, we’re in the same class—” you could tell you’d said the wrong thing by the way his gaze darkened. “Uh, but we’re not dating or anything. He’s just a colleague. We’re barely even friends.”

He liked this answer better as he stood up straight and considered where to go from here. You beat him to it, however.

“What happened to you?” you asked. The question just slipped.

That caught him off-guard. “Sorry?”

“I mean, what have you been doing since I’d last seen you?”

You were afraid of the answer and Jungkook could tell. When you saw his concerned expression, you realized he could tell, so when he spoke up, you weren’t sure if he was telling the truth or just making light of the situation for your sake.

“Nothing much,” he said. “I stayed at the house with the other members most of the time. We found ways to occupy ourselves as I’m sure Yoongi showed you.”

“Oh, yeah.”

He laughed. “I didn’t get into trouble if that’s what you’re asking.”

Now you knew he was lying. But ignorance was bliss and you decided not to push him any further. It was sort of futile anyway – it wasn’t like you could go back in time and prevent him from making whatever dumb decisions he'd already made.

“I-I’m sorry I was a bitch to you that morning,” you said then.

Your plan to move on and forget all about him instead of apologizing for the way you’d acted was long abandoned. Clearly, the universe wasn’t going to give you two a break from each other now that you’d started talking again, so you needed to make this right.

“W-when I saw you at my dormitory, I mean,” you explained but Jungkook  already understood. “It really wasn’t my place to make assumptions about—”

“No, I understand,” he stopped you. “I mean, I can imagine the way I must have looked coming out of her room that morning but, uh, for whatever it’s worth, I didn’t actually sleep with that girl. I think I passed out as soon as I walked through the door of her room.”

You recalled the conversation you’d overheard in the library and, so far, the stories seemed to match. Curious now, you brought your tongue over your dry lips and tried to get to the bottom of this even though you feared what awaited you at the foundation.

“Why did you go to her dorm in the first place?” you asked.

You didn’t think he’d actually say it but he took a deep breath and almost forced your heart to collapse with his words, “I went to see you. She—The girl mentioned her dormitory and I remembered that you lived there. I obviously underestimated how drunk I was, though. I don’t even know how I’d planned to find your room.”

Why? your mind was screaming. Why did you want to see me? What were you going to say to me once you did? What were you going to do?

But you cleared your throat and nodded.

Understanding that there was nothing else to be said – because there were only so many times you could have apologized to one another before your feelings for each other became unbearably obvious – Jungkook jumped on the island, sitting down on it and turning to you.

“So, hey, we’re doing a gig next Friday,” he said. “Will you come watch me play?”

You were probably – definitely – over-analyzing the question, but he didn’t ask you if you’d like to come. He asked if you would. And, you cursed yourself for even coming to this seemingly far-fetched conclusion, but it sounded like he needed you there.

“Yeah,” you said, swallowing. “Inna was probably going to drag me there with her anyway.”

Jungkook hesitated. “That’s good. It’d be better if you came because you wanted to, but me and my bruised ego will take it.”

You chuckled, not meaning to tease him – or leave him wanting more, or whatever else it seemed like you were doing – but, rather, wanting to show him – and yourself – that you could control the feelings that were waking up from a long hibernation.

You could control them and not make them obvious.

“I do want to come,” you said and then, in the most heartbreakingly sincere way, added, “I want us to be friends.”

Jungkook nearly flinched but he nodded wholeheartedly, trying to play his unexpectedly painful disappointment off.

“Right,” he said. “I, uh—that’s what I want, too.”

But it wasn’t. Not really. And it became quite clear to him that he had gotten ahead of himself with his feelings -- you weren’t going to meet him halfway because you were so far behind.

I want us to be friends, was what you’d said. But I don’t want to be with you was what he’d heard.

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